Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1875-02-17

1t is now more than year since went to
Eastboune, on the coast of Sussex, with my
father aud brother james.
My brother had then, as we hoped rccoy-
cred from the effects of fall in the hunting
field. He complained, however, at times OF
a pain in his head and the doctors advised
US to try the sea air. We removed TO East
bourne without a suspicion of the serious
nature Of the injury that he had received.
For few DAYS all went well We liked the
place the air agreed with us; aud we de-
termined to prolong our residence for some
weeks 10 come
Our sixth day at the seaside-a memorable
day to me, for reasons which you have still
to hear-my brother complained again Of
the old pain in his head lie and | went
out together to try what exercise would do
toward relieving him. We walked through
the town to the fort and one end of it, and
then followed a footpath running by the
side OF the sea, over dreary waste Of shingle,
bounded at its inland extremity by the road
to Hastings, and by the marshy country be
yond.
We had left the fort at some little distance
behind US | was walking in front; and
James was following me. lie was talking
as quietly as usual-when he suddenly stop
ped in the middle of sentence ! turned
round in surprise, and discovered my brother
prostrate ON the path, in convulsions terrible
to see.
1t was the first epiloptic fit | had eyerwt-
messed, My presence of mind entirely de
serted me. | could only wiring my hands in
horror and scream for help. so one ap-
peared either from the direction of the fort
or of the high road. was too far of,
suppose, TO make myself heard Looking
ahead of me, along the path, | discovered, 10
my infinite relief, the figure Of man run
ming toward me. As he came nearer, saw
/ that he was, unmistakably, a gentleman
young, and eager TO be Of service 10 me.
Pray compose yourself r. he said, after a
look at my brother. 1t is very dreadful t.
see but it is not dangerous. We must
wait until the conyulsions are over, and
then can help you"
lie seemed to know SO much about ii that
| thought he might be a medical man. ! put
the question to him plainly.
lie colored and looked little confused.
81 am not Doctor" he said. 81 happer
to have seen persons afflicted with epilepsy
and have heard medical men say that il il
useless to interfere until the fit is over
See, he added, "your brother is quieter al
ready. lie will soon feel sense of relic
which will more than compensate him fo
what he has suffered. will help him TO gc
to the fort-and once there, we can send fo
a carriage to take him home.
In five minutes more we were on our wa,
to the fort--the stranger supporting M
brother as attentively aud tenderly as if h'
had been am old friend. When the carriag,
had been obtained he insisted ON accompany
ing us 10 our own door, on the chance tina
his services might still be of some use. liz
left us, asking permission 10 call and inquir
after James health the next day. A mor
modest, gentle, and unassuming person
never met with. lie not only excited my
warmest gratitude but he interested me a
my first meeting with him.
lay some stress on the impression whicl
this young man produced on newly, yoI
will soon find out.
The next day the stranger paid his prom
ised visit Of inquiry. His card, which wa
sent up stairs, Informed us that his nami
was Ronald Cameron. My father--who i
not easily pleased a liking to him a
once. His visit was prolonged at our re
quest lie said just enough about himsel
to satisfy us that we were receiving persol
who was at least of equal rank with our
selves. Born in England, of-a Scotch family
he had lost both his parents. Not long sine
he had inherited a fortune from one of hi
unelss. II struck Inc as little strange tha