CHAPTER XXVII.
Quangrollart's account of Youwarkee's journey, and reception at her father's.
Having set on the table some brandy and Madeira, and each of us takenone glass of both, I showed, by the attentiveness of my aspect andposture, how desirous I was he should proceed to what he had promised.Observing this, he went on in the following manner:--"Brother Peter,"says he, "my sister Youwarkee, as I don't doubt you will be glad to hearof her first, arrived very safe at Arndrumnstake the third day aftershe left you, and after a very severe flight to the dear littleHallycarnie,* who was a full day and a night on her graundee; and atlast would not have been able to have reached Battringdrigg but for mysister's assistance, who, taking her sometimes on her back for a shortflight, by those little refreshments enabled her to perform it: but fromBattringdrigg, after some hours' rest, they came with pleasure tothe White Mountains, from whence, after a small stay, they arrived atArndrumnstake.
* One of Wilkins' daughters.
"They alighted at our covett,* but were opposed at their entrance by theguards, to whom they did not choose to discover themselves, till noticewas given to my father; who, upon hearing that some strangers desiredadmittance to him, sent me to introduce them, if they were properpersons for his presence, or else give orders for such other receptionas was suitable to them.
"When I came to the guard, I found three gawrys and a glumm boss,**whose appearance and behaviour, I must own, prejudiced me very much intheir favour. I then asked from whence they came, and their businesswith the colamb. You-warkee told me they came not about business ofpublic concern, relating to the colamb's office, but out of a dutifulregard, as relations, to kiss his knees.--'My father' said I, 'shallknow it immediately; but first, pray inform me of your name?'--'Yourfather!' replied Youwarkee; 'are you my brother Quangrollart?'--'My nameis so,' says I, 'but I have only one sister, now with my father, andhow I can be your brother, I am not able to guess.'--'Have you never hadanother sister?' says she.--'Yes,' says I, 'but she is long since dead;her name was Youwarkee.' At my mentioning her name, she fell uponmy neck in tears, crying, 'My dear brother, I am that dead sisterYouwarkee, and these with me are some of my children, for I have fivemore; but, pray, how does my father and sister?'--I started back at thisdeclaration, to view her and the children, fearing it was some grossimposition, not in the least knowing or remembering anything of herface, after so long an absence; but I desired them to walk in, till Itold my father.
* Capital Seat.
** Youth.
"The guard observing the several passages between us, were amazed tothink who it could be had so familiarly embraced me; especially as theysaw I only played a passive part in it.
"When I went in, I did not think proper directly to inform my fatherwhat had happened; but calling my sister Hallycarnie, I let her intothe circumstances of this odd affair, and desired her advice what to do:'For,' says I, 'surely this must be some impostor; and as my father hasscarce subdued his sorrow for my sister's loss, if this gawry shouldprove a deceiver, it will only revive his affliction, and may prove atthis time extremely dangerous to him: therefore let us consider what hadbest be done in the matter.'
"Hallycarnie, who had attentively weighed all I said, seemed to thinkit was some cheat, as well as I did; for we could neither of us conceivethat anything but death, or being slit, could have kept Youwarkee solong from the knowledge of her relations; and that neither of them couldbe the case was plain, if the person attending was Youwarkee. 'Besides,brother,' says Hallycarnie, 'she cannot surely be so much altered infifteen years, but you must have known her; and yet, now I think, it ispossible, you being so much younger, may have forgot her; but whilst wehave been talking of her, I have so well recollected her, that I think Icould hardly be imposed upon by any deceiver.' "I then desired her togo with me to the strangers and see if she could make any discovery. Shedid so, and had no sooner entered the abb,* but Youwarkee calledout, 'My dear sister Hally-carnie!' and she as readily recollectingYouwarkee, they in transport embraced each other; and then your wifepresenting to us her three children, it proved the tenderest scene,except the following, I ever saw.
* Room.
"My father having kept his chamber some time with a fever, and though hewas pretty well recovered, having not yet been out of it, we consultedhow we might introduce our sister and children to him, with as littlesurprise as might be, for fear of a relapse by too great a hurry of hisspirits. At length we concluded I should go tell him that some strangershad arrived desiring to see him; but on inquiry, finding their businesswas too trifling to trouble him upon, I had despatched them; I was thento say how like one of them was to my sister Youwarkee; and whilst I wasspeaking, Hallycarnie was to enter, and keep up the discourse till weshould find a proper opportunity of discovery. I went in, therefore, ashad been agreed; and upon mentioning the name of Youwarkee, my fatherfetched a deep sigh and turned away from me in tears. At that instantHallycarnie came in as by accident. 'Sir,' says she, 'what makes you sosad? are you worse to-day?'--'Oh,' says he, 'I have heard a name thatwill never be out of my heart, till I am in hoximo.'*--'What, I supposemy sister?'--''Tis true,' replied he, 'the same.'--Says she, 'I fanciedso, for I have just seen a stranger as like her as two dorrs** could be,and would have sworn it was she, if that had been possible. I thought mybrother had been so imprudent as to mention her to you; and I think hedid not do well to rip up an old sore he knew was almost healed, andmake it break out afresh.'--'Ah! no, child,' says my father, 'that sorenever has, nor can be healed. O Great Image! why can't it by some meansor other be ascertained what end she came to?'
* A place where the dead are buried.
** A fruit like an apple.
"'Sir,' says my sister, 'I think you are much to blame for theseexclamations, after so long absence; for, if she be dead, what use arethey of? and if she be not, all may be well, and you may still see heragain.'--'Oh, never, never!' says my father; 'but could I be sure shewas alive, I would take a swangean and never close my graundee till Ifound her, or dropt dead in the search.'--'And suppose you could meetwith her, sir,' says I, 'the very sight would overcome you, and bedangerous.' 'No, believe me, boy,' says he, 'I should then be fully easyand composed; and were she to come in this moment, I should suffer nosurprise, but pleasure.'--'No surprise, sir?' says I.--'Not if she werealive and well,' says he.--'Then, sir,' says Hallycarnie, 'will youexcuse me if I introduce her?' and went out directly without staying foran answer.
"When she was gone, 'Quangrollart,' says my father sternly, 'what is themeaning of yours and your sister's playing thus upon my weakness? It iswhat I can upon no account forgive. It looks as if you were weary ofme, and wanted to break my heart. To what purpose is all this prelude ofyours, to introduce to me somebody, who, by her likeness to my daughter,may expose me to your scoff and raillery? This is a disobedience I neverexpected from either of you.'
"'The Great Image attend me!' says I; 'sir, you have much mistaken me;but I will not leave you in doubt, even till Hallycarnie's return. Youshall see Youwarkee with her; for all our discourse, I'll assure you,has but been concerted to prepare you for her reception, with three ofher children.' 'And am I then, says he, in a transport, 'still to beblessed?'--'You are, sir,' says I, 'assure yourself you are.'
"By this time we heard them coming, but my poor father had not power togo to meet them: and upon Youwarkee's nearer approach, to fall at hisknees, his limbs failing him, he sunk, and without speaking a word, fellbackwards on a cught drappec,* which stood behind him; and, being quitemotionless, we concluded him to be stone-dead. On this the womenbecame entirely helpless, screaming only, and wringing their hands inextravagant postures. But I, having a little more presence of mind,called for the calentar;** who, by holding his nose, pinching his feet,and other applications, in a little time brought him to his sensesagain.
* A bed or couch covered with a sort of cotton.
** A sort of doctor in all great families.
/> "You may more easily conceive than I describe, both the confusion wewere all in during my father's disorder, and the congratulations uponhis recovery; so, as I can give you but a defective account of these,I shall pass them by, and come to our more serious discourse, after myfather and your wife had, without speaking a word, wept themselves quitedry on each other's necks.
"My father, then looking upon the three children (who were also cryingto see their mamma cry), 'And who are these?' says he.--'These, sir,'says Youwarkee, 'are three of eight of your grandchildren.'--'And whereis your barkett?' says he. 'At home with the rest, sir,' replied she,'who are some of them too small to come so far yet; but, sir,' says she,'pray excuse my answering you any more questions, till you are a littlerecovered from the commotion I perceive my presence has brought uponyour spirits; and as rest, the calentar says, will be exceedinglyproper, I will retire with my sister till you are better able to bearcompany.' My father was with much difficulty prevailed with to partwith her out of his sight: but the calentar pressing it, we were alldismissed, and he laid down to rest."
My brother would have gone on, but I told him, as it grew near time forrepose, and he and Rosig must needs be fatigued with so long a flight,if they pleased (as I had already heard the most valuable part of allhe could say, in that my father had received my wife and children sokindly, and that he left them all well) we could defer his fartherrelation till the next day; which they both agreeing to, I laid them inmy own bed, myself sleeping in a spare hammock.
END OF VOL. I.
PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON.
Life And Adventures Of Peter Wilkins, Vol. I. (of II.) Page 31
