WILLIAM FITZ-OSBERT.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume VI, Issue 58, 9 March 1871, Page 3

WILLIAM FITZ-OSBERT.

A STORY OF LONDON - LIFE IN THE DAYS OF RICHARD CCEUR DE LION. From the Family Friend. Chapter IX. A MORNING- OF JOY. During that day Nelly never left her lather's side. Twice a messenger was sent to the Priory of Holy Trinity, and the answer brought by the second messenger removed a heavy burden of anxiety. Armstrong thumped at the door about mid-day, but was sent away by Wilfred, _who told him that his master wishedVto be^jdone. The disappointed armourer stammered^ something about '"'Mistress Nelly," but Wilfred could not hear what he said, so he/ answered at random that she was in goofl health, and the armourer shuffled away very red in the face. W*hen*thejevening sha.des were darKe^iiug the room where Ne~UssjSat with her 5 father she rose and bade him *good-night. There was a humble sadness and a tender warmth in Fitz-Osbert's response which declared her the victor. Quietly and gently with wonderful tact she had wrestled with the violent and unruly spirit of her parent. Young and delicate though she seemed, she was armed with the might of a pure heart and exalted mind. The victory was hers. "Good night, Nelly dear, God bless you," he said. "Pray for me, Nelly, to-night, I have been wrong, very wrong. If the spirit world can view the things of earth, how weak, how selfish, how blind, how black with sin must have appeared to your good mother the dark dreams of -vengeance I have fostered all these years! Pray that we may have strength to do our duty, that the evil I have done may be forgiven, that we may all meet together in the last great day. Good-night, my child! Heaven protect you!" Nelly ascended to her own little room, and hours afterwards, when the last glimmer of twilight had long disappeared, a white robed-robed figure, kneeling in prayer and bathed in the light of the moon, might have been seen beside the thicklydraped couch. The next morning broke clear, bright, j and frosty. When Nelly came down it I was much beyond, her usual hour to be '

astir. Calmly and healthfully she had slept away the mental fatigues of the previous day. Her large blue eyes beamed with love and happiness as she ran up to her father and embraced him. The morning meal passed pleasantly, and Fitz-Osberfc looked with pride and affection on his daughter, as she stood at the window throwing out the remnants of bread to her winter visitors — the little robins, Having satisfied her little feathered friends, she went forth to bestow kind words and comforts on the poor and sick of the city. Possibly some of them whom she visited thought her more hurried than usual, for she had a duty to perform which she looked forward to with anxiety. It was necessary to go to For remainder of news see Fourth page.

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the Priory of Holy Trinity and ascertain the condition of Sir Hugh. The last news from the Priory was brought the day before by the second messenger, and was to the effect that Sir Hugh gave signs of recovery. "It is well that I have met you, my child," he said after the customary benediction. "Wherefore? Sir Hugh is not worse, I hope?" "Hush! Thank God, he is much better. It was a fortunate escape. Had the blow on his head been a trifle more violent, the consequences would have been, serious indeed. By the blessing of Heaven, we may now hope that he will be speedily "well. He is quite sensible, and the giddiness has almost entirely departed; he is curious to know where he is, and has implored me to fetch you to him. I have advised him to be quiet, for he has symptoms of fever; caution prevented me from satisfying him as to his whereabouts. He is resolved to punish the man who betrayed him, he uses most threatening language against your father. lamat a loss to know how we can shield your father from his v. rath. I only see one means, but — but — " "What means is that?" said Nelly eagerly, blushing at the mention of her\ father in connexion with the crime. The good priest hesitated for some moments, and seemed suddenly absorbed in meditation. "Oh tell me, good father, what meaus is there to appease his anger?" pleaded Nelly with impatience. "You only can accomplish it, my child. You have made an impression on his mind by your courage and goodness. If you can foster that good impression, you can stand as mediator between him and his enemies?" "Do you think that he will listen to me?" said Nelly doubtfully. "Will he rather not turn with contempt and disdain on the daughter of the one who has done him this injury? lam not afraid to face his wrath' if you think that I can persuade him to forgive. Tell me, Father Broadhart, do you think I can persuade him? Do you think that he will listen to me?" "He will listen, my child, readily enough; and I do not believe that your father's conduct will cause him to reproach you," replied Broadhart. "He seems a generous though a rather headstrong young man. I like his bold and honest manners. He might become a noble and good example to the violent, ambitious, and selfish pride of our nobility. I can plainly see in him all the material for a truly noble character." While he spoke Broadhart turned towards the Priory, and Nelly, listening eagerly to every word, walked by his side. The last burden was being removed from her mind; she began to perceive the possibility of dispersing Sir Hugh's anger and of averting the punishment which her father would otherwise suffer for conspiring against an English baron. When they arrived at the Priory, and had entered the apartment where .Sir Hugh had been placed they found him asleep, and an old monk watching by his side. Nelly gazed thoughtfully at his face in the calm repose of sleep. There were slight traces of pain, but they did not disturb the pleasing effect of his open brow and regular features. She tried in vain to discover some sign of the selfish cruelty of his mother. "How long has he slept?" asked Broadhart, addressing the old monk. " This half-hour. Sleep will keep down the fever." " Heaven has been most merciful to him and to us. Go on thy rounds, and I aud our good daughter here will watch." The old man crept from the room, but the closing of. an outer door caused the patient to awaken with a sudden start. He raised himself on his elbow, and stared confusedly about him ; then his dark eyes rested on Nelly, and they were filled immediately with an expression of earnest joy. "Here is your gentle preserver, my son," said Broadhart, placing his hand on Nelly's shoulder. " Kind, noble lady," said Sir Hugh respectfully and fervently, " the debt I owe you by far exceeds the narrow compass of my words. If there is aught within my power to do or to give in token of my gratitude for saving this poor life, say, and . it shall be yours." "I have not done anything, Sir Hugh, . that can claim your gratitude. What I did was prompted by an impulse such as would have moved any other Christian man or woman, and I — l had a stronger, a selfish reason for my conduct. I sough| to my father from the consequences off a crime — if possible to save him. from the shame, the sin of a cowardly revenge, and I have come here, Sir Hugh, to ask of you a favor which I know you cannot easily grant. I have come to ask for that which I have no right to ask for." " Sweet lady," interrupted Sir Hugh, his large dark eyes flashing with enthusiasm, " if I were perishing with thirst, and you asked for the last drop of water within my reach, it should be yours." *■ Nelly was somewhat startled by the

vehemence of his manner, but with renewed confidence she resumed the earnest work of mediation. " You are well aware, Sir Hugh, that all the injury and insult t*hat you have received resulted from thaitfatred of my father, j Dare I hope that j^6u will forgive him? j For your forgivgjr^ss T have como v here of my own free will. I know that I am asking a very great boon, but my father has turned from his wicked purpose, and I believe that he now regrets the violence of his resentment, and " " Enough, enough. I know not the cause of his resentment, I never heard his name until the other day. I have never consciously done him any wrong. But you, my gentle lady, may most surely be the gentle bearer of my most free and hearty pardon. I only want one condition — that I may sec h'tn, meet him face to face, and probe the source of his mysterious auger." " Then you do not know the great wrong which he has suffered," said Nelly, with a growing feeling of confidence and interest in Sir Hugh of which she was scarcely conscious. Oh, it you but knew how cruelly he has been dealt with, and the great treasure that he has lost — how his whole life has been blighted by the persecution of your House — you will understand his wrath." "By Heaven! what wrong, what persecution hath he suffered? Tell me, I pray you. Most willingly will I restore all that has been unjustly takeu from him. My father was a great and valiant mau; he never knowingly Itooped to a mean injustice. I have heard his history from old men who were his comrades in the field of battle and in the council chambers of the King." "You cannot restore what^my father has lost, nor can you recall to' 'our home and hearth the worldly happiness ruthlessly destroyed by your p^ent." '•'My parent! Surely, my father " "Not your father, Sir Hugh; your mother." Without plan or purpose, guided only by the candor and openness of her heart and her anxiety to remove all of the anger between Sir Hugh andfher father — tempted, too, by a powerful &f nse of confidence in Sir Hugh — she sat down on the seat beside the couch on which he lay, and in -her own gentle way related all the events which her father had recounted with so much pain the day before. Broadhart stood in silence by the window, and Sir Hugh drank in every word with eagerness and surprise. Nelly with womanly gentleness and sympathy, threw a little doubt over his mother's guilt; but her efforts to conceal the worst features of the tragedy only inflamed Sir Hugh's imagination. To be continued. y--