Page:Village curate (2).pdf/18

 this flood of joy, nor check the soft emotions of the soul. These tears become thee: which, like the fleeting shower that bathes the summer's day, give fresh lustre to the charms of nature."

"Is that which I have heard derived from truth; or is it but the dream of fancy? My father released from prison! By whom?"

"Why," said Trueman, "should you question whence the gracious bounty came? It is sufficient that he is returned. Think the measure of his bliss is incomplete, till in his paternal embrace he folds thy lovely form. Hasten, then, to increase and share his merited happiness." Then, folding her arm in his, he hurried towards her dwelling.

Mr Benley was seated at the door of the cottage, surrounded by many of his parishioners, when Charlotte rushed into her father's arms, exclaiming—"My dear, dear father!" The enraptured parent mingled the tears of fond affection with those of filial gratitude; and every countenance beamed with smiles of joy. Nor was the welcome of the worthy Trueman wanting in cordiality; but when the lovely Charlotte related her rescue from the hated Sandford, the murmur of applause fell from every tongue, while the grateful father strained the gallant stranger to his heart by the endearing name of son.

The return of the worthy pastor was celebrated by the inhabitants of the parish as a sort of jubilee. Every one strove to excel his neighbour in acts of courtesy. Stores of viands were conveyed from all parts of the village; and while, by the pale light of the moon, sprightly youth led up the merry dance, cheerful age sat and quaffed the nut-brown