When the general had finished his narrative, the day was too far advanced, and the feelings of the party were too much interested otherwise, to allow them to prosecute their intended visit to Constantia; they therefore returned to Cape Town, where Catherine was anxiously expecting their return.
"Catherine, my love," said her father, "I expect a friend to visit me almost immediately. He is a young man of wealth and rank; and I beg you will give him a cordial welcome, as you must look upon him as your future husband, and think no more of Philip Douglas."
"Sir!" said she with the colour fading in her cheek; "forget Philip! Never!"
At this moment the door opened, and a servant announced, "Mr Fortescue." Great was Catherine's surprise, when she raised her eyes, and beheld Philip.
"Philip!" exclaimed she; then, looking timidly and inquiringly around, she added, "But where is Mr Fortescue?"
"Here he stands, my dear Catherine; no longer the foundling Philip Douglas, but Philip Fortescue, the son of one whom he is proud to call father. Next to the joy of discovering _him_, is that of finding that you have bestowed your love on one whose birth will cast no discredit upon yours."
"The heart acknowledges no distinctions of rank or fortune," replied she, blushing; "whether Douglas or Fortescue, you would still be my own dear Philip--the friend of my childhood--the preserver of my life."
"Nobly spoken, my fair young friend," said General Fortescue, who had entered unperceived. "Although I am not yet your father, allow me to claim a father's privilege." And he fondly kissed the blushing Catherine.
But we must hasten to the conclusion of our voyage, and of our tale. The following announcement appeared two months afterwards in the papers--"Married, at Eskhall, in Dumfries-shire, on the 13th inst., Philip, eldest son of General Fortescue of the Bengal army, to Catherine, daughter of Edward Douglas, Esq., of Calcutta."
"Bless me, Angus! do you wear a weapon of that kind about you? I never knew it before," said John Sommerville to his friend Angus M'Intyre, as he sat looking at him one morning performing his toilet; an operation which discovered the latter thrusting a _skean dhu_--which all our readers know is a short knife, with a black horn handle, once a favourite weapon of the Highlanders--beneath the breast of his coat, into a sheath which seemed to have been placed there for the especial purpose.