The Sun.
London, England, 1826-07-21 00:00:00

FRIDAY EVENING, JU LY 21, 1826

from his support, and, by a strong effort, repressing the tears that
trembled on her eyelids ; "it is time we parted;"
"My brother and his followers seek me, and will soon be here.
But why, why do you look so wildly?"
" Brother ! do you call him," ceekimed the youth, " call him
not--think him not a brother ; he it was that feigned your death
—he that detained my steps in distant lands--he that, to accom-
plish his own selfish views of ambition, wrests from you your
inheritance, and would have made two faithful—they were once
two happy hearts, Elliee,—the stepping stones to raise him in his
course of darkness."
The . brother and his party interrupt their conversa-
tion, and Ellice is borne away to the castle, where she
becomes dangerously ill from the effects of her fright,
and the sudden interview with her lover. Chiverton
takes advantage of this illness, and gives it out that she
is deranged—
" Sir John," returned the Physician, n I have already ventured
to point at the only mode which my hasty judgment is able to de-
vise, by which Prestwyche may be prevented from thwarting your
designs. That he may
disclose to the father of the lady, whom
you intend to make your bride, circumstances, most necessary to
be concealed from him, and which St. Mauricealone can commu-
nicate, is too probable to require observation. Perhaps, by deeper
consideration, a plan milder than the one proposed, and at the
same time equally efficient, might be devised. But if, which ap-
pears not unlikely, the mischief were done, ere the plan be ma-
tured, the pleasure of contemplating so ingenious a design, might
possibly hardly outweigh the inconvenience of par.:--ig with the
honours and possessions of Chiverton."
As if eager to escape from the doubts and indecision of his own
mind, the Knight hastily answered,
" Well, have it as thou wilt; kill, slay, murder—l care not
what—manage all—direct all, only rid me of this accursed enemy
and—thou halt not found me ungrateful."
The following is a sweet picture of a lovely and
blushing bride :--
Indeed she was beautiful :—she had the winning beauty that
looks and smiles itself into the heart, before the critic judgment
can scan the lineaments, which fancy invests with even more than
their native loveliness. The light laughing graces of seventeen—
she was budding into womanhood, yet could scarcely be more
than seventeen—played around her form and countenance,
Her ringlets of a glossy brown—her blue eyes and pouting lips,
all shared in the charm which youth and happiness wove around
her, like the hues of a fairy dream :—the buoyancy of every ,no-
tion—the elasticity of every step, spoke the mental and bodily
health of the rejoicing girl.
" Isabel is a good girl" said the old Knight, " I shall lack my
(laughter—she is truth, the treasure of my age." His eye
glistened as he spoke," my heart will be heavier when thou art
gone, wench—'twill be the first time that thou ever mad'st it
heavy."

The vault scene is powerfully wrought. Prestwyche
had been thrown into a subterraneous dungeon to
await the torments which Chiverton and the Physician
ware preparing for him, while Ellice, in the mean time
struggled through gloomy passages to effect his libera-
tion. She knocked at the door of his dungeon, but
only the echoes answered her.
" He speaks not," said Ellice inwardly, " he will speak no
more. His heart is cold, and mine I feel, will not long survive.
Yet, the last tribute of affection, Ellice Chiverton may yet pay.
I will visit his cold corse, and take a last look of him, who has
loved but too well for himself and me. And then—l would that
the same fate might reach me too : that, stretched by his, my
lifeless form might attest the depth of a woman's suffering, of a
woman's love."

It was long ere the lock of the prison door yielded to the key
which Ellice applied to it. At length it opened ; she stepped on
firmly, for in the belief of his death, calamity had done its worst.
There is a degree of sorrow, when it ceases to indicate itself by
the outward and visible sign, and such was hers. No shudder,
no tear, not the shaking of the hand, or the light quiver of the lip
had betrayed, bad there been any to watch, the inward working of
the spirit. •
The gloomy chamber into which Ellice entered, bore a near
resemblance to those she had already traversed. The damp ex-
halations with which It was filled, obscured the light of the lamp,
whose glimmering light hardly sufficed to direct her to a corner of
of the dungeon, where, stretched on a heap of straw, she discerned
a figure, apparently lifeless. Her breathing stayed—her feet seemed
rooted to the ground. With aviolent effort she sprang forward...
dropped on.her knees by the side of the motionless form. "It is
he, .he lives—holy Virgin, he lives !"
The object of her hasty exclamations, aroused by them from
the faint slumber in which he had been wrapped, started from his
wretched couch, and cast his awakened eyes on the form of pale
beauty that knelt by him.
"My dream, yet here! and am I not awake--'tis even more
distinct—speak, I adjure thee? what art thou, that hauntest thus
my sleeping and waking hours in that semblance?"
" And dust thou ask who I am, Reginald ?—am I en far for-
gotten in one brief hour ?—for surely 'tis not more since we parted.
But thou avert wounded, and --"
4. Speak to me not of wounds-i—of hurts--I know none—l
feel none, while thou art here. But say, how earnest thou hither ?
—has cruelty dared—but no, it could not—thou art not imprisoned
in these dreary vaults ?"
" Think not so harshly, Reginald ;—but thy wounds—thy
wounds? I must e'en, for want of a better, be thy leech? and wilt
thou dispute with thy physician ?"
She prevented his reply, and opening the box she had brought
with her, took thence the materials of her simple surgery.
The parting scene ensues. She urges his departure
to save his life, and he insists upon her accompanying
him to regain her liberty and rights. The outlet
from this dungeon was on the overhanging bank of a
river.

She again urged his flight—he repeated his solicitations that it
might not be alone. She replied to him gently, but firmly; he
felt, but would not even to himself acknowledge, a conviction of
the truth of her words.
" And now," added Ellice, "thou had oft in happier days,
seemed to reproach me--nay—interrupt me not—thou but done
so, if not in words, yet in tones and looks as easy to be understood
—that I have been, as thou deemed'st, too backward in acknow-
ledging the feelings I have felt for thee. Thou didat wrong, Regi-
nald—it is not in professions that a woman's love is shewn. But
I will tell thee now, for in a moment like this words may have free
course—that never woman loved man better than Ellice Chiver-
ton has loved thee. And by that love—by thine own—by all
our mutual hopes—l do again conjure thee to fly ; 'tis but mad-
ness to stay. Dort thou still linger? I have conjured thee by all
that is dearest to me, and should be so to thee—wilt thou deny me ?"
The blushes which on her avowal of her love had rushed into
her cheeks, still mantled there as she ceased; there was a glowing
earnestness in her tune, and manner, that would nut be resisted.
Prestwyche yielded to it.
He went—and she returned into the vault, but her
lamp went out, Presently her brother and the phy-
sician entered the cave, and missing the liberated lover,
were madly grieved. Ellice retired in a corner, and
heard the proposition of the Doctor to destroy her as the
only means of securing the ?ossession of the estates.
The poor girl, in a fit of terrified fondness, rushed from
her hiding place and fell at her brother's feet, clasping
his knees' and imploring his merciful protection. He
raised her with emotion and tried to support her, when
she exehkimed, " Reginald, my Reginald." The
mention of this hated name roused him to frenzy,
and he dashed her to the ground.—
The act was scarce done, when be threw himself on his knees
and essayed to lift her.
under whit+ she had laboured;
toolfchtlinetetonrot;o"rshe eaclaimed, for the shock had
fearfullybeside,t
sc
h hoemsr,
eina 0
oe
tn
; you are not my brother—you will murder me—
ktip.,,,ged help me !" and dishing with frenzied haste through

the door of the passage, she retraced, with all her speed, her steps
towards the rock.

" Her senses are gone !" exclaimed Chiverton, " and 1 wretch
have,"—without completing his sentence, he sped in pursuit
of her.

In the heated, enfeebled state of her imagination, Ellice heard in
the pursuing footsteps of her brother, in his invocations to her to
desist from her flight, only the fearful sounds of death : violently
as she exerted herself to gain the extremity of the passage, her
brother gained fast upon her, when the light from the opening
burst at a short distance upon her sight. Yet the outstretched
hand of Chiverton would, ere she had reached it, have arrested her
flight, had he not, at this moment, stumbled on the broken and
irregular path. He fell heavily, and was stunned ; whilst Ellice,
having emerged from the cave, sprung wildly up the path which
Prestwyche had previously ascended. At the very turn, of which
she had warned him, the foot of the unfortunate girl slipped. His
name was on her lips as she fell.
There was a deep sullen plunge.
The circling gyres, that dimpled the smooth surface of the river,
as the waters dosed, glittered with cold mockery in the moon-
beams. They spread wider, and wider, and wider :--at length
the last vibration ceased, and the stream glided on smoothly as
before.

SUMMER AS sins.

GUILDFORD, WEDNESDAY, JULY 19.

COINING.

R. Fox and G. Wilson were indicted for feloniously and
traitorously colouring, with certain wash and other mate-
rials producing the colour of silver, a certain base and
counterfeit piece of metal, to the likeness and resemblance
of a shilling of the current coin of the realm.
The Jury, under the Learned Judge's directions, found
the prisoners Guilty.--Sentence of death was recorded.

EXETER, WEDNESDAY EVINING.

The Judges are expected every hour. The calendar of
the prisoners for trial is not formally completed ; but it
unfortunately does not show offences of so light a charac.
ter as have been under inquiry in the counties of Hants,
Wilts, and Dorset.

YORK WEANtSDAY, JULY 19.

MILNES V. TAYLOR.

Mr. Alderson opened the pleadings. This was an ac-
tion against the defendant for negligence as a surgeon.—
The declaration charged him first as a surgeon, and after-
ward as a bone-setter. The defendant pleaded the gene-
ral issue.

Mr. Searlett stated the case to. the jury. The plaintiff
in this case was an individual in an humble situation in life.
He was a stone-cutter, and-at the time the accident oc-
curred, was employed at an engine factory near Hudders-
field. While working there, he had the misfortune to fall
a height of 13 feet, and a jenny coming down at the same
instant, and falling upon his leg, broke it in a very bad
manner.--41p to that time the plaintiff had always been
considered a healthy man, and though the fracture which
he had met with was undoubtedly severe, yet there could
be little doubt, that under the hands of a skilful surgeon,
he would have recovered in less than three months. The
defendant proceeded to the plaintiff's house, to which, in
the mean time, the plaintiff had been removed from the
factory. The defendant examined the fracture, and being
determined upon setting it, he caused a handkerchief to
be 'drawn tightly round it, and to be fastened with a slip
knot, so that the tighter it was drawn, the greater would
be the pressure of the bandage. This ligature soon pro-
duced the effect of stopping the circulation of the blood,
but the Whitworth doctor, unmindful of that circumstance,
proceeded to surround the fracture with plasters and ban-
dages which he put over the handkerchief. However, he
left one small portion of the leg uncovered by any bandages
or splinters, so that at any time he might be able to dress
the wound without removing them. The poor unhappy
plaintiff bore the torture of the ligature with patience. as the
defendant assured him that the pain would soon be over,
and that his leg would speedily get well. In spite of their
faith in his skill, the patient's family could not at last fail
to observe some circumstances which did not augur very
favourably for their father's recovery. They perceived
that the great toe was getting quite black, and that the
leg had become so putrid as to be dreadfully offensive;
and finally, they saw that maggots were issuing from the
fracture. His family being at last convinced that the
plaintiff was in danger, called in other assistance. They
had not ventured on this step till the stench which came
from the leg was actually noxious. Two regular surgeons
were accordingly summoned, and they having examined
the leg, found that the foot had actually begun to mortify.
They communicated the result of their examination to the
plaintiff's family, and left a message desiring to know what
were the steps which the defendant had taken to effect the
cure. At the same time they expressed a wish that the
bandages should be removed, and declared that they ought
not to have been put on in that manner. Their
opinion, on being communicated to Taylor, met,
as might have been expected, with his opposition.—
Finally, however, the symptoms of mortification appeared
too strong to render further delay possible, and the medi-
cal gentlemen being again called in, they amputated the
leg above the knee as the only means of saving the life of
the plaintiff'. It was far from his (Mr. Scarlett's) inten-
tion to say that a respectable surgeon was in all cases to
be rendered answerable for the consequences of his treat-
ment of a patient, however carefully and cautiously he
might have acted; for the plaintiff's claim in this case
was grounded on the fact, that the defendant had neither
employed care, nor skill, nor caution, but had negligently
begun, and obstinately continued, a course, the almost ne-
cessary consequences of which was, to prevent the cure'd
the wound, and to render the amputation of the leg neces-
sary. The only 'question was, as to the amount of the
damages which the defendant ought to pay. In deter-
mining that question, they might ask themselves what com-
pensation they would think adequate to the loss of a limb ?
If great wealth, high rank, or extensive power, was of-
fered to any of them, on condition of losing one of their
limbs he had no doubt they would reject the promised
splendour. They must give the' plaintiff damages in
money. The degree of compensation to be thus afforded
varied extremely. The loss of a limb to him who de-
pended for his support upon his daily labour, must
be a matter of much more consequence than to a rich
man, who could ride in his carriage, and could thus artifi-
cially
the
s joufryalmv
oousit valu-
these take
b e n circumstancesal natural
supply,
divadvantage.
:otar
some
into measure,
enase
theirut re
u,
serious consideration, and,
g livesby
in awarding damages to the plaintiff, would teach a lesson
of
to such
tisellixeciahrmfiepnilei fras,4oimitbhjteehettiss.
defendant,igiwran tla;tdaiwnpoeurlidii
warn
tli them,
h t
The evidence bore out completelv the statement of Mr.
:end° ft
huthePlf follow-
1 out ‘hdv
Searlett. The only passage worth selection is the testi-
idint6e,:rtlidaliveloyofd,fStoDeMPsitr6ee.Peinieigierbeairn'pYtTlgn;°thioffoll%.: tshoaQfi'dn—itriul.e:lcsVOurriuvggerehe?g the limb, I
found it a complete mass of disease throughout ; no union
of the fracture had taken place; in moving the leg, the
foot separated from every part except the gristle of the
heel; the bones were separated, and the flesh was entirely
sloughed; the foot fell down over the side of the bed; the
leg was affected in the, same manner, the upper part being
diseased and dead; the patient must have suffered the.
greatest PaiP ; and there was great danger to the life of the
patient. If the leg had not been amputated, the general,