. . but what could escape the piercing alertness of
a sense surely guided by love? A transport then like mine was
above all consideration, or schemes of surprize; and I, that
instant, with the rapidity of the emotions that I felt the
spur of, shot into his arms, crying out, as I threw mine round
his neck: "My life! . . . my soul! . . . my Charles! . . ."
and without further power of speech, swoon'd away, under the
pressing agitations of joy and surprize.
Recover'd out of my entrancement, I found myself in my
charmer's arms, but in the parlour, surrounded by a crowd
which this event had gather'd round us, and which immediately,
on a signal from the discreet landlady, who currently took him
for my husband, clear'd the room, and desirably left us alone
to the raptures of this reunion; my joy at which had like to
have prov'd, at the expense of my life, power superior to that
of grief at our fatal separation.
The first object then, that my eyes open'd on, was their
supreme idol, and my supreme wish Charles, on one knee, hold-
ing me fast by the hand and gazing on me with a transport of
fondness. Observing my recovery, he attempted to speak, and
give vent to his patience of hearing my voice again, to
satisfy him once more that it was me; but the mightiness and
suddenness of the surprize, continuing to stun him, choked
his utterance: he could only stammer out a few broken, half
formed, faltering accents, which my ears greedily drinking
in, spelt, and put together, so as to make out their sense;
"After so long! .
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