Morton had been
parted with in the depth of her poverty. At that moment Lieutenant
Sommerville hastily entered the cottage. He stated that his uncle had
left the Hall, and delivered a letter from him to Colonel Morton. It was
of few words, and as follows:
"Morton,--We were rivals for Isabella's love; you were made happy, and I
miserable. But I have not been unrevenged. It was I who betrayed you
into the hands of the enemy. It was I who reported you dead--who caused
the tidings to be hastened to your widowed wife, and followed them to
England. It was I who poisoned the ear of her friends, until they cast
her off; I dogged her to her obscurity, that I might enjoy my triumph;
but death thwarted me as you had done. Yet I will do one act of
mercy--she sleeps beneath the grave where we met yesterday; and the lady
before whom you wept--is your own daughter."
He cast down the letter, and exclaimed, "My child! my long lost child!"
And, in speechless joy, the father and the daughter rushed to each
other's arms. Shall we add more? The elder Sommerville left his native
land, which he never again disgraced with his presence.
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