The Pirate

“I am here, sir,” said Jonathan, solemnly.

“Well, so you are! but, confound you! you come like the ghost of a butler!—But who do you think is coming here, Jonathan?”

“I cannot tell, sir.”

“But I can!—you solemn old! Edward’s coming here!—coming home directly?”

“Is he to sleep in his old room, sir?” replied the imperturbable butler.

“No! the best bedroom! Why, Jonathan, he is married—he is made a captain—Captain Templemore!”

“Yes—sir.”

“And he has found his brother, Jonathan; his twin-brother!”

“Yes—sir.”

“His brother Francis—that was supposed to be lost! But it’s a long story, Jonathan—and a very wonderful one! his poor mother has long been dead!”

“In caelo quies!” said Jonathan, casting up his eyes.

“But his brother has turned up again.”

“Resurgam!” said the butler.

“They will be here in ten days—so let everything be in readiness, Jonathan. God bless my soul!” continued the old gentleman, “I hardly know what I’m about. It’s a Spanish girl, Jonathan!”

“What is, sir?”

“What is, sir!—who, Captain Templemore’s wife; and he was tried as a pirate!”

“Who, sir?”

“Who sir! why, Francis, his brother! Jonathan, you’re a stupid old fellow!”

“Have you any further commands, sir?”

“No—no!—there—that’ll do—go away.”

And in three weeks after this conversation, Captain and Mrs Templemore, and his brother Frank, were established in the house, to the great delight of Mr Witherington; for he had long been tired of solitude and old Jonathan.

The twin-brothers were a comfort to him in his old age: they closed his eyes in peace—they divided his blessing and his large fortune and thus ends our history of The Pirate!