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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Arthur Mervyn, by Charles Brockden Brown
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Arthur Mervyn
+ Or, Memoirs of the Year 1793
+
+Author: Charles Brockden Brown
+
+Release Date: June 5, 2006 [EBook #18508]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARTHUR MERVYN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Graeme Mackreth and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ARTHUR MERVYN;
+
+OR,
+
+MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 1793.
+
+BY
+
+CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWN.
+
+"Fielding, Richardson, and Scott occupied pedestals. In a niche was
+deposited the bust of our countryman, the author of 'Arthur Mervyn.'"
+
+NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
+
+PHILADELPHIA: DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER,
+
+23 SOUTH NINTH STREET. 1889.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+The evils of pestilence by which this city has lately been afflicted
+will probably form an era in its history. The schemes of reformation and
+improvement to which they will give birth, or, if no efforts of human
+wisdom can avail to avert the periodical visitations of this calamity,
+the change in manners and population which they will produce, will be,
+in the highest degree, memorable. They have already supplied new and
+copious materials for reflection to the physician and the political
+economist. They have not been less fertile of instruction to the moral
+observer, to whom they have furnished new displays of the influence of
+human passions and motives.
+
+Amidst the medical and political discussions which are now afloat in the
+community relative to this topic, the author of these remarks has
+ventured to methodize his own reflections, and to weave into an humble
+narrative such incidents as appeared to him most instructive and
+remarkable among those which came within the sphere of his own
+observation. It is every one's duty to profit by all opportunities of
+inculcating on mankind the lessons of justice and humanity. The
+influences of hope and fear, the trials of fortitude and constancy,
+which took place in this city in the autumn of 1793, have, perhaps,
+never been exceeded in any age. It is but just to snatch some of these
+from oblivion, and to deliver to posterity a brief but faithful sketch
+of the condition of this metropolis during that calamitous period. Men
+only require to be made acquainted with distress for their compassion
+and their charity to be awakened. He that depicts, in lively colours,
+the evils of disease and poverty, performs an eminent service to the
+sufferers, by calling forth benevolence in those who are able to afford
+relief; and he who portrays examples of disinterestedness and
+intrepidity confers on virtue the notoriety and homage that are due to
+it, and rouses in the spectators the spirit of salutary emulation.
+
+In the following tale a particular series of adventures is brought to a
+close; but these are necessarily connected with the events which
+happened subsequent to the period here described. These events are not
+less memorable than those which form the subject of the present volume,
+and may hereafter be published, either separately or in addition to
+this.
+
+C.B.B.
+
+
+
+
+ARTHUR MERVYN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+I was resident in this city during the year 1793. Many motives
+contributed to detain me, though departure was easy and commodious, and
+my friends were generally solicitous for me to go. It is not my purpose
+to enumerate these motives, or to dwell on my present concerns and
+transactions, but merely to compose a narrative of some incidents with
+which my situation made me acquainted.
+
+Returning one evening, somewhat later than usual, to my own house, my
+attention was attracted, just as I entered the porch, by the figure of a
+man reclining against the wall at a few paces distant. My sight was
+imperfectly assisted by a far-off lamp; but the posture in which he sat,
+the hour, and the place, immediately suggested the idea of one disabled
+by sickness. It was obvious to conclude that his disease was
+pestilential. This did not deter me from approaching and examining him
+more closely.
+
+He leaned his head against the wall; his eyes were shut, his hands
+clasped in each other, and his body seemed to be sustained in an upright
+position merely by the cellar-door against which he rested his left
+shoulder. The lethargy into which he was sunk seemed scarcely
+interrupted by my feeling his hand and his forehead. His throbbing
+temples and burning skin indicated a fever, and his form, already
+emaciated, seemed to prove that it had not been of short duration.
+
+There was only one circumstance that hindered me from forming an
+immediate determination in what manner this person should be treated.
+My family consisted of my wife and a young child. Our servant-maid had
+been seized, three days before, by the reigning malady, and, at her own
+request, had been conveyed to the hospital. We ourselves enjoyed good
+health, and were hopeful of escaping with our lives. Our measures for
+this end had been cautiously taken and carefully adhered to. They did
+not consist in avoiding the receptacles of infection, for my office
+required me to go daily into the midst of them; nor in filling the house
+with the exhalations of gunpowder, vinegar, or tar. They consisted in
+cleanliness, reasonable exercise, and wholesome diet. Custom had
+likewise blunted the edge of our apprehensions. To take this person into
+my house, and bestow upon him the requisite attendance, was the scheme
+that first occurred to me. In this, however, the advice of my wife was
+to govern me.
+
+I mentioned the incident to her. I pointed out the danger which was to
+be dreaded from such an inmate. I desired her to decide with caution,
+and mentioned my resolution to conform myself implicitly to her
+decision. Should we refuse to harbour him, we must not forget that there
+was a hospital to which he would, perhaps, consent to be carried, and
+where he would be accommodated in the best manner the times would admit.
+
+"Nay," said she, "talk not of hospitals. At least, let him have his
+choice. I have no fear about me, for my part, in a case where the
+injunctions of duty are so obvious. Let us take the poor, unfortunate
+wretch into our protection and care, and leave the consequences to
+Heaven."
+
+I expected and was pleased with this proposal. I returned to the sick
+man, and, on rousing him from his stupor, found him still in possession
+of his reason. With a candle near, I had an opportunity of viewing him
+more accurately.
+
+His garb was plain, careless, and denoted rusticity. His aspect was
+simple and ingenuous, and his decayed visage still retained traces of
+uncommon but manlike beauty. He had all the appearances of mere youth,
+unspoiled by luxury and uninured to misfortune. I scarcely ever beheld
+an object which laid so powerful and sudden a claim to my affection and
+succour.
+
+"You are sick," said I, in as cheerful a tone as I could assume. "Cold
+bricks and night-airs are comfortless attendants for one in your
+condition. Rise, I pray you, and come into the house. We will try to
+supply you with accommodations a little more suitable."
+
+At this address he fixed his languid eyes upon me. "What would you
+have?" said he. "I am very well as I am. While I breathe, which will not
+be long, I shall breathe with more freedom here than elsewhere. Let me
+alone--I am very well as I am."
+
+"Nay," said I, "this situation is unsuitable to a sick man. I only ask
+you to come into my house, and receive all the kindness that it is in
+our power to bestow. Pluck up courage, and I will answer for your
+recovery, provided you submit to directions, and do as we would have
+you. Rise, and come along with me. We will find you a physician and a
+nurse, and all we ask in return is good spirits and compliance."
+
+"Do you not know," he replied, "what my disease is? Why should you risk
+your safety for the sake of one whom your kindness cannot benefit, and
+who has nothing to give in return?"
+
+There was something in the style of this remark, that heightened my
+prepossession in his favour, and made me pursue my purpose with more
+zeal. "Let us try what we can do for you," I answered. "If we save your
+life, we shall have done you some service, and, as for recompense, we
+will look to that."
+
+It was with considerable difficulty that he was persuaded to accept our
+invitation. He was conducted to a chamber, and, the criticalness of his
+case requiring unusual attention, I spent the night at his bedside.
+
+My wife was encumbered with the care both of her infant and her family.
+The charming babe was in perfect health, but her mother's constitution
+was frail and delicate. We simplified the household duties as much as
+possible, but still these duties were considerably burdensome to one not
+used to the performance, and luxuriously educated. The addition of a
+sick man was likely to be productive of much fatigue. My engagements
+would not allow me to be always at home, and the state of my patient,
+and the remedies necessary to be prescribed, were attended with many
+noxious and disgustful circumstances. My fortune would not allow me to
+hire assistance. My wife, with a feeble frame and a mind shrinking, on
+ordinary occasions, from such offices, with fastidious scrupulousness,
+was to be his only or principal nurse.
+
+My neighbours were fervent in their well-meant zeal, and loud in their
+remonstrances on the imprudence and rashness of my conduct. They called
+me presumptuous and cruel in exposing my wife and child, as well as
+myself, to such imminent hazard, for the sake of one, too, who most
+probably was worthless, and whose disease had doubtless been, by
+negligence or mistreatment, rendered incurable.
+
+I did not turn a deaf ear to these censurers. I was aware of all the
+inconveniences and perils to which I thus spontaneously exposed myself.
+No one knew better the value of that woman whom I called mine, or set a
+higher price upon her life, her health, and her ease. The virulence and
+activity of this contagion, the dangerous condition of my patient, and
+the dubiousness of his character, were not forgotten by me; but still my
+conduct in this affair received my own entire approbation. All
+objections on the score of my friends were removed by her own
+willingness and even solicitude to undertake the province. I had more
+confidence than others in the vincibility of this disease, and in the
+success of those measures which we had used for our defence against it.
+But, whatever were the evils to accrue to us, we were sure of one thing:
+namely, that the consciousness of having neglected this unfortunate
+person would be a source of more unhappiness than could possibly redound
+from the attendance and care that he would claim.
+
+The more we saw of him, indeed, the more did we congratulate ourselves
+on our proceeding. His torments were acute and tedious; but, in the
+midst even of delirium, his heart seemed to overflow with gratitude, and
+to be actuated by no wish but to alleviate our toil and our danger. He
+made prodigious exertions to perform necessary offices for himself. He
+suppressed his feelings and struggled to maintain a cheerful tone and
+countenance, that he might prevent that anxiety which the sight of his
+sufferings produced in us. He was perpetually furnishing reasons why his
+nurse should leave him alone, and betrayed dissatisfaction whenever she
+entered his apartment.
+
+In a few days, there were reasons to conclude him out of danger; and, in
+a fortnight, nothing but exercise and nourishment were wanting to
+complete his restoration. Meanwhile nothing was obtained from him but
+general information, that his place of abode was Chester county, and
+that some momentous engagement induced him to hazard his safety by
+coming to the city in the height of the epidemic.
+
+He was far from being talkative. His silence seemed to be the joint
+result of modesty and unpleasing remembrances. His features were
+characterized by pathetic seriousness, and his deportment by a gravity
+very unusual at his age. According to his own representation, he was no
+more than eighteen years old, but the depth of his remarks indicated a
+much greater advance. His name was Arthur Mervyn. He described himself
+as having passed his life at the plough-tail and the threshing-floor; as
+being destitute of all scholastic instruction; and as being long since
+bereft of the affectionate regards of parents and kinsmen.
+
+When questioned as to the course of life which he meant to pursue upon
+his recovery, he professed himself without any precise object. He was
+willing to be guided by the advice of others, and by the lights which
+experience should furnish. The country was open to him, and he supposed
+that there was no part of it in which food could not be purchased by his
+labour. He was unqualified, by his education, for any liberal
+profession. His poverty was likewise an insuperable impediment. He could
+afford to spend no time in the acquisition of a trade. He must labour,
+not for future emolument, but for immediate subsistence. The only
+pursuit which his present circumstances would allow him to adopt was
+that which, he was inclined to believe, was likewise the most eligible.
+Without doubt his experience was slender, and it seemed absurd to
+pronounce concerning that of which he had no direct knowledge; but so it
+was, he could not outroot from his mind the persuasion that to plough,
+to sow, and to reap, were employments most befitting a reasonable
+creature, and from which the truest pleasure and the least pollution
+would flow. He contemplated no other scheme than to return, as soon as
+his health should permit, into the country, seek employment where it was
+to be had, and acquit himself in his engagements with fidelity and
+diligence.
+
+I pointed out to him various ways in which the city might furnish
+employment to one with his qualifications. He had said that he was
+somewhat accustomed to the pen. There were stations in which the
+possession of a legible hand was all that was requisite. He might add to
+this a knowledge of accounts, and thereby procure himself a post in some
+mercantile or public office.
+
+To this he objected, that experience had shown him unfit for the life of
+a penman. This had been his chief occupation for a little while, and he
+found it wholly incompatible with his health. He must not sacrifice the
+end for the means. Starving was a disease preferable to consumption.
+Besides, he laboured merely for the sake of living, and he lived merely
+for the sake of pleasure. If his tasks should enable him to live, but,
+at the same time, bereave him of all satisfaction, they inflicted
+injury, and were to be shunned as worse evils than death.
+
+I asked to what species of pleasure he alluded, with which the business
+of a clerk was inconsistent.
+
+He answered that he scarcely knew how to describe it. He read books when
+they came in his way. He had lighted upon few, and, perhaps, the
+pleasure they afforded him was owing to their fewness; yet he confessed
+that a mode of life which entirely forbade him to read was by no means
+to his taste. But this was trivial. He knew how to value the thoughts of
+other people, but he could not part with the privilege of observing and
+thinking for himself. He wanted business which would suffer at least
+nine-tenths of his attention to go free. If it afforded agreeable
+employment to that part of his attention which it applied to its own
+use, so much the better; but, if it did not, he should not repine. He
+should be content with a life whose pleasures were to its pains as nine
+are to one. He had tried the trade of a copyist, and in circumstances
+more favourable than it was likely he should ever again have an
+opportunity of trying it, and he had found that it did not fulfil the
+requisite conditions. Whereas the trade of ploughman was friendly to
+health, liberty, and pleasure.
+
+The pestilence, if it may so be called, was now declining. The health of
+my young friend allowed him to breathe the fresh air and to walk. A
+friend of mine, by name Wortley, who had spent two months from the city,
+and to whom, in the course of a familiar correspondence, I had mentioned
+the foregoing particulars, returned from his rural excursion. He was
+posting, on the evening of the day of his arrival, with a friendly
+expedition, to my house, when he overtook Mervyn going in the same
+direction. He was surprised to find him go before him into my dwelling,
+and to discover, which he speedily did, that this was the youth whom I
+had so frequently mentioned to him. I was present at their meeting.
+
+There was a strange mixture in the countenance of Wortley when they were
+presented to each other. His satisfaction was mingled with surprise, and
+his surprise with anger. Mervyn, in his turn, betrayed considerable
+embarrassment. Wortley's thoughts were too earnest on some topic to
+allow him to converse. He shortly made some excuse for taking leave,
+and, rising, addressed himself to the youth with a request that he would
+walk home with him. This invitation, delivered in a tone which left it
+doubtful whether a compliment or menace were meant, augmented Mervyn's
+confusion. He complied without speaking, and they went out together;--my
+wife and I were left to comment upon the scene.
+
+It could not fail to excite uneasiness. They were evidently no strangers
+to each other. The indignation that flashed from the eyes of Wortley,
+and the trembling consciousness of Mervyn, were unwelcome tokens. The
+former was my dearest friend, and venerable for his discernment and
+integrity. The latter appeared to have drawn upon himself the anger and
+disdain of this man. We already anticipated the shock which the
+discovery of his unworthiness would produce.
+
+In a half-hour Mervyn returned. His embarrassment had given place to
+dejection. He was always serious, but his features were now overcast by
+the deepest gloom. The anxiety which I felt would not allow me to
+hesitate long.
+
+"Arthur," said I, "something is the matter with you. Will you not
+disclose it to us? Perhaps you have brought yourself into some dilemma
+out of which we may help you to escape. Has any thing of an unpleasant
+nature passed between you and Wortley?"
+
+The youth did not readily answer. He seemed at a loss for a suitable
+reply. At length he said that something disagreeable had indeed passed
+between him and Wortley. He had had the misfortune to be connected with
+a man by whom Wortley conceived himself to be injured. He had borne no
+part in inflicting this injury, but had nevertheless been threatened
+with ill treatment if he did not make disclosures which, indeed, it was
+in his power to make, but which he was bound, by every sanction, to
+withhold. This disclosure would be of no benefit to Wortley. It would
+rather operate injuriously than otherwise; yet it was endeavoured to be
+wrested from him by the heaviest menaces. There he paused.
+
+We were naturally inquisitive as to the scope of these menaces; but
+Mervyn entreated us to forbear any further discussion of this topic. He
+foresaw the difficulties to which his silence would subject him. One of
+its most fearful consequences would be the loss of our good opinion. He
+knew not what he had to dread from the enmity of Wortley. Mr. Wortley's
+violence was not without excuse. It was his mishap to be exposed to
+suspicions which could only be obviated by breaking his faith. But,
+indeed, he knew not whether any degree of explicitness would confute the
+charges that were made against him; whether, by trampling on his sacred
+promise, he should not multiply his perils instead of lessening their
+number. A difficult part had been assigned to him; by much too
+difficult for one young, improvident, and inexperienced as he was.
+
+Sincerity, perhaps, was the best course. Perhaps, after having had an
+opportunity for deliberation, he should conclude to adopt it; meanwhile
+he entreated permission to retire to his chamber. He was unable to
+exclude from his mind ideas which yet could, with no propriety, at least
+at present, be made the theme of conversation.
+
+These words were accompanied with simplicity and pathos, and with tokens
+of unaffected distress.
+
+"Arthur," said I, "you are master of your actions and time in this
+house. Retire when you please; but you will naturally suppose us anxious
+to dispel this mystery. Whatever shall tend to obscure or malign your
+character will of course excite our solicitude. Wortley is not
+short-sighted or hasty to condemn. So great is my confidence in his
+integrity that I will not promise my esteem to one who has irrecoverably
+lost that of Wortley. I am not acquainted with your motives to
+concealment, or what it is you conceal; but take the word of one who
+possesses that experience which you complain of wanting, that sincerity
+is always safest."
+
+As soon as he had retired, my curiosity prompted me to pay an immediate
+visit to Wortley. I found him at home. He was no less desirous of an
+interview, and answered my inquiries with as much eagerness as they were
+made.
+
+"You know," said he, "my disastrous connection with Thomas Welbeck. You
+recollect his sudden disappearance last July, by which I was reduced to
+the brink of ruin. Nay, I am, even now, far from certain that I shall
+survive that event. I spoke to you about the youth who lived with him,
+and by what means that youth was discovered to have crossed the river in
+his company on the night of his departure. This is that very youth.
+
+"This will account for my emotion at meeting him at your house; I
+brought him out with me. His confusion sufficiently indicated his
+knowledge of transactions between Welbeck and me. I questioned him as to
+the fate of that man. To own the truth, I expected some well-digested
+lie; but he merely said that he had promised secrecy on that subject,
+and must therefore be excused from giving me any information. I asked
+him if he knew that his master, or accomplice, or whatever was his
+relation to him, absconded in my debt? He answered that he knew it well;
+but still pleaded a promise of inviolable secrecy as to his
+hiding-place. This conduct justly exasperated me, and I treated him with
+the severity which he deserved. I am half ashamed to confess the
+excesses of my passion; I even went so far as to strike him. He bore my
+insults with the utmost patience. No doubt the young villain is well
+instructed in his lesson. He knows that he may safely defy my power.
+From threats I descended to entreaties. I even endeavoured to wind the
+truth from him by artifice. I promised him a part of the debt if he
+would enable me to recover the whole. I offered him a considerable
+reward if he would merely afford me a clue by which I might trace him to
+his retreat; but all was insufficient. He merely put on an air of
+perplexity and shook his head in token of non-compliance."
+
+Such was my friend's account of this interview. His suspicions were
+unquestionably plausible; but I was disposed to put a more favourable
+construction on Mervyn's behaviour. I recollected the desolate and
+penniless condition in which I found him, and the uniform complacency
+and rectitude of his deportment for the period during which we had
+witnessed it. These ideas had considerable influence on my judgment, and
+indisposed me to follow the advice of my friend, which was to turn him
+forth from my doors that very night.
+
+My wife's prepossessions were still more powerful advocates of this
+youth. She would vouch, she said, before any tribunal, for his
+innocence; but she willingly concurred with me in allowing him the
+continuance of our friendship on no other condition than that of a
+disclosure of the truth. To entitle ourselves to this confidence we were
+willing to engage, in our turn, for the observance of secrecy, so far
+that no detriment should accrue from this disclosure to himself or his
+friend.
+
+Next morning, at breakfast, our guest appeared with a countenance less
+expressive of embarrassment than on the last evening. His attention was
+chiefly engaged by his own thoughts, and little was said till the
+breakfast was removed. I then reminded him of the incidents of the
+former day, and mentioned that the uneasiness which thence arose to us
+had rather been increased than diminished by time.
+
+"It is in your power, my young friend," continued I, "to add still more
+to this uneasiness, or to take it entirely away. I had no personal
+acquaintance with Thomas Welbeck. I have been informed by others that
+his character, for a certain period, was respectable, but that, at
+length, he contracted large debts, and, instead of paying them,
+absconded. You, it seems, lived with him. On the night of his departure
+you are known to have accompanied him across the river, and this, it
+seems, is the first of your reappearance on the stage. Welbeck's conduct
+was dishonest. He ought doubtless to be pursued to his asylum and be
+compelled to refund his winnings. You confess yourself to know his place
+of refuge, but urge a promise of secrecy. Know you not that to assist or
+connive at the escape of this man was wrong? To have promised to favour
+his concealment and impunity by silence was only an aggravation of this
+wrong. That, however, is past. Your youth, and circumstances, hitherto
+unexplained, may apologize for that misconduct; but it is certainly your
+duty to repair it to the utmost of your power. Think whether, by
+disclosing what you know, you will not repair it."
+
+"I have spent most of last night," said the youth, "in reflecting on
+this subject. I had come to a resolution, before you spoke, of confiding
+to you my simple tale. I perceive in what circumstances I am placed, and
+that I can keep my hold of your good opinion only by a candid
+deportment. I have indeed given a promise which it was wrong, or rather
+absurd, in another to exact, and in me to give; yet none but
+considerations of the highest importance would persuade me to break my
+promise. No injury will accrue from my disclosure to Welbeck. If there
+should, dishonest as he was, that would be a sufficient reason for my
+silence. Wortley will not, in any degree, be benefited by any
+communication that I can make. Whether I grant or withhold information,
+my conduct will have influence only on my own happiness, and that
+influence will justify me in granting it.
+
+"I received your protection when I was friendless and forlorn. You have
+a right to know whom it is that you protected. My own fate is connected
+with the fate of Welbeck, and that connection, together with the
+interest you are pleased to take in my concerns, because they are mine,
+will render a tale worthy of attention which will not be recommended by
+variety of facts or skill in the display of them.
+
+"Wortley, though passionate, and, with regard to me, unjust, may yet be
+a good man; but I have no desire to make him one of my auditors. You,
+sir, may, if you think proper, relate to him afterwards what particulars
+concerning Welbeck it may be of importance for him to know; but at
+present it will be well if your indulgence shall support me to the end
+of a tedious but humble tale."
+
+The eyes of my Eliza sparkled with delight at this proposal. She
+regarded this youth with a sisterly affection, and considered his
+candour, in this respect, as an unerring test of his rectitude. She was
+prepared to hear and to forgive the errors of inexperience and
+precipitation. I did not fully participate in her satisfaction, but was
+nevertheless most zealously disposed to listen to his narrative.
+
+My engagements obliged me to postpone this rehearsal till late in the
+evening. Collected then round a cheerful hearth, exempt from all
+likelihood of interruption from without, and our babe's unpractised
+senses shut up in the sweetest and profoundest sleep, Mervyn, after a
+pause of recollection, began.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+My natal soil is Chester county. My father had a small farm, on which he
+has been able, by industry, to maintain himself and a numerous family.
+He has had many children, but some defect in the constitution of our
+mother has been fatal to all of them but me. They died successively as
+they attained the age of nineteen or twenty, and, since I have not yet
+reached that age, I may reasonably look for the same premature fate. In
+the spring of last year my mother followed her fifth child to the grave,
+and three months afterwards died herself.
+
+My constitution has always been frail, and, till the death of my mother,
+I enjoyed unlimited indulgence. I cheerfully sustained my portion of
+labour, for that necessity prescribed; but the intervals were always at
+my own disposal, and, in whatever manner I thought proper to employ
+them, my plans were encouraged and assisted. Fond appellations, tones of
+mildness, solicitous attendance when I was sick, deference to my
+opinions, and veneration for my talents, compose the image which I still
+retain of my mother. I had the thoughtlessness and presumption of youth,
+and, now that she is gone, my compunction is awakened by a thousand
+recollections of my treatment of her. I was indeed guilty of no flagrant
+acts of contempt or rebellion. Perhaps her deportment was inevitably
+calculated to instil into me a froward and refractory spirit. My faults,
+however, were speedily followed by repentance, and, in the midst of
+impatience and passion, a look of tender upbraiding from her was always
+sufficient to melt me into tears and make me ductile to her will. If
+sorrow for her loss be an atonement for the offences which I committed
+during her life, ample atonement has been made.
+
+My father is a man of slender capacity, but of a temper easy and
+flexible. He was sober and industrious by habit. He was content to be
+guided by the superior intelligence of his wife. Under this guidance he
+prospered; but, when that was withdrawn, his affairs soon began to
+betray marks of unskilfulness and negligence. My understanding, perhaps,
+qualified me to counsel and assist my father, but I was wholly
+unaccustomed to the task of superintendence. Besides, gentleness and
+fortitude did not descend to me from my mother, and these were
+indispensable attributes in a boy who desires to dictate to his
+gray-headed parent. Time, perhaps, might have conferred dexterity on me,
+or prudence on him, had not a most unexpected event given a different
+direction to my views.
+
+Betty Lawrence was a wild girl from the pine-forests of New Jersey. At
+the age of ten years she became a bound servant in this city, and, after
+the expiration of her time, came into my father's neighbourhood in
+search of employment. She was hired in our family as milkmaid and
+market-woman. Her features were coarse, her frame robust, her mind
+totally unlettered, and her morals defective in that point in which
+female excellence is supposed chiefly to consist. She possessed
+super-abundant health and good-humour, and was quite a supportable
+companion in the hay-field or the barnyard.
+
+On the death of my mother, she was exalted to a somewhat higher station.
+The same tasks fell to her lot; but the time and manner of performing
+them were, in some degree, submitted to her own choice. The cows and the
+dairy were still her province; but in this no one interfered with her or
+pretended to prescribe her measures. For this province she seemed not
+unqualified, and, as long as my father was pleased with her management,
+I had nothing to object.
+
+This state of things continued, without material variation, for several
+months. There were appearances in my father's deportment to Betty, which
+excited my reflections, but not my fears. The deference which was
+occasionally paid to the advice or the claims of this girl was accounted
+for by that feebleness of mind which degraded my father, in whatever
+scene he should be placed, to be the tool of others. I had no conception
+that her claims extended beyond a temporary or superficial
+gratification.
+
+At length, however, a visible change took place in her manners. A
+scornful affectation and awkward dignity began to be assumed. A greater
+attention was paid to dress, which was of gayer hues and more
+fashionable texture. I rallied her on these tokens of a sweetheart, and
+amused myself with expatiating to her on the qualifications of her
+lover. A clownish fellow was frequently her visitant. His attentions did
+not appear to be discouraged. He therefore was readily supposed to be
+the man. When pointed out as the favourite, great resentment was
+expressed, and obscure insinuations were made that her aim was not quite
+so low as that. These denials I supposed to be customary on such
+occasions, and considered the continuance of his visits as a sufficient
+confutation of them.
+
+I frequently spoke of Betty, her newly-acquired dignity, and of the
+probable cause of her change of manners, to my father. When this theme
+was started, a certain coldness and reserve overspread his features. He
+dealt in monosyllables, and either laboured to change the subject or
+made some excuse for leaving me. This behaviour, though it occasioned
+surprise, was never very deeply reflected on. My father was old, and the
+mournful impressions which were made upon him by the death of his wife,
+the lapse of almost half a year seemed scarcely to have weakened. Betty
+had chosen her partner, and I was in daily expectation of receiving a
+summons to the wedding.
+
+One afternoon this girl dressed herself in the gayest manner and seemed
+making preparations for some momentous ceremony. My father had directed
+me to put the horse to the chaise. On my inquiring whither he was going,
+he answered me, in general terms, that he had some business at a few
+miles' distance. I offered to go in his stead, but he said that was
+impossible. I was proceeding to ascertain the possibility of this when
+he left me to go to a field where his workmen were busy, directing me to
+inform him when the chaise was ready, to supply his place, while
+absent, in overlooking the workmen.
+
+This office was performed; but before I called him from the field I
+exchanged a few words with the milkmaid, who sat on a bench, in all the
+primness of expectation, and decked with the most gaudy plumage. I rated
+her imaginary lover for his tardiness, and vowed eternal hatred to them
+both for not making me a bride's attendant. She listened to me with an
+air in which embarrassment was mingled sometimes with exultation and
+sometimes with malice. I left her at length, and returned to the house
+not till a late hour. As soon as I entered, my father presented Betty to
+me as his wife, and desired she might receive that treatment from me
+which was due to a mother.
+
+It was not till after repeated and solemn declarations from both of them
+that I was prevailed upon to credit this event. Its effect upon my
+feelings may be easily conceived. I knew the woman to be rude, ignorant,
+and licentious. Had I suspected this event, I might have fortified my
+father's weakness and enabled him to shun the gulf to which he was
+tending; but my presumption had been careless of the danger. To think
+that such a one should take the place of my revered mother was
+intolerable.
+
+To treat her in any way not squaring with her real merits; to hinder
+anger and scorn from rising at the sight of her in her new condition,
+was not in my power. To be degraded to the rank of her servant, to
+become the sport of her malice and her artifices, was not to be endured.
+I had no independent provision; but I was the only child of my father,
+and had reasonably hoped to succeed to his patrimony. On this hope I had
+built a thousand agreeable visions. I had meditated innumerable projects
+which the possession of this estate would enable me to execute. I had no
+wish beyond the trade of agriculture, and beyond the opulence which a
+hundred acres would give.
+
+These visions were now at an end. No doubt her own interest would be, to
+this woman, the supreme law, and this would be considered as
+irreconcilably hostile to mine. My father would easily be moulded to
+her purpose, and that act easily extorted from him which should reduce
+me to beggary. She had a gross and perverse taste. She had a numerous
+kindred, indigent and hungry. On these his substance would speedily be
+lavished. Me she hated, because she was conscious of having injured me,
+because she knew that I held her in contempt, and because I had detected
+her in an illicit intercourse with the son of a neighbour.
+
+The house in which I lived was no longer my own, nor even my father's.
+Hitherto I had thought and acted in it with the freedom of a master; but
+now I was become, in my own conceptions, an alien and an enemy to the
+roof under which I was born. Every tie which had bound me to it was
+dissolved or converted into something which repelled me to a distance
+from it. I was a guest whose presence was borne with anger and
+impatience.
+
+I was fully impressed with the necessity of removal, but I knew not
+whither to go, or what kind of subsistence to seek. My father had been a
+Scottish emigrant, and had no kindred on this side of the ocean. My
+mother's family lived in New Hampshire, and long separation had
+extinguished all the rights of relationship in her offspring. Tilling
+the earth was my only profession, and, to profit by my skill in it, it
+would be necessary to become a day-labourer in the service of strangers;
+but this was a destiny to which I, who had so long enjoyed the pleasures
+of independence and command, could not suddenly reconcile myself. It
+occurred to me that the city might afford me an asylum. A short day's
+journey would transport me into it. I had been there twice or thrice in
+my life, but only for a few hours each time. I knew not a human face,
+and was a stranger to its modes and dangers. I was qualified for no
+employment, compatible with a town life, but that of the pen. This,
+indeed, had ever been a favourite tool with me; and, though it may
+appear somewhat strange, it is no less true that I had had nearly as
+much practice at the quill as at the mattock. But the sum of my skill
+lay in tracing distinct characters. I had used it merely to transcribe
+what others had written, or to give form to my own conceptions. Whether
+the city would afford me employment, as a mere copyist, sufficiently
+lucrative, was a point on which I possessed no means of information.
+
+My determination was hastened by the conduct of my new mother. My
+conjectures as to the course she would pursue with regard to me had not
+been erroneous. My father's deportment, in a short time, grew sullen and
+austere. Directions were given in a magisterial tone, and any remissness
+in the execution of his orders was rebuked with an air of authority. At
+length these rebukes were followed by certain intimations that I was now
+old enough to provide for myself; that it was time to think of some
+employment by which I might secure a livelihood; that it was a shame for
+me to spend my youth in idleness; that what he had gained was by his own
+labour; and I must be indebted for my living to the same source.
+
+These hints were easily understood. At first, they excited indignation
+and grief. I knew the source whence they sprung, and was merely able to
+suppress the utterance of my feelings in her presence. My looks,
+however, were abundantly significant, and my company became hourly more
+insupportable. Abstracted from these considerations, my father's
+remonstrances were not destitute of weight. He gave me being, but
+sustenance ought surely to be my own gift. In the use of that for which
+he had been indebted to his own exertions, he might reasonably consult
+his own choice. He assumed no control over me; he merely did what he
+would with his own, and, so far from fettering my liberty, he exhorted
+me to use it for my own benefit, and to make provision for myself.
+
+I now reflected that there were other manual occupations besides that of
+the plough. Among these none had fewer disadvantages than that of
+carpenter or cabinet-maker. I had no knowledge of this art; but neither
+custom, nor law, nor the impenetrableness of the mystery, required me to
+serve a seven years' apprenticeship to it. A master in this trade might
+possibly be persuaded to take me under his tuition; two or three years
+would suffice to give me the requisite skill. Meanwhile my father would,
+perhaps, consent to bear the cost of my maintenance. Nobody could live
+upon less than I was willing to do.
+
+I mentioned these ideas to my father; but he merely commended my
+intentions without offering to assist me in the execution of them. He
+had full employment, he said, for all the profits of his ground. No
+doubt, if I would bind myself to serve four or five years, my master
+would be at the expense of my subsistence. Be that as it would, I must
+look for nothing from him. I had shown very little regard for his
+happiness; I had refused all marks of respect to a woman who was
+entitled to it from her relation to him. He did not see why he should
+treat as a son one who refused what was due to him as a father. He
+thought it right that I should henceforth maintain myself. He did not
+want my services on the farm, and the sooner I quitted his house the
+better.
+
+I retired from this conference with a resolution to follow the advice
+that was given. I saw that henceforth I must be my own protector, and
+wondered at the folly that detained me so long under his roof. To leave
+it was now become indispensable, and there could be no reason for
+delaying my departure for a single hour. I determined to bend my course
+to the city. The scheme foremost in my mind was to apprentice myself to
+some mechanical trade. I did not overlook the evils of constraint and
+the dubiousness as to the character of the master I should choose. I was
+not without hopes that accident would suggest a different expedient, and
+enable me to procure an immediate subsistence without forfeiting my
+liberty.
+
+I determined to commence my journey the next morning. No wonder the
+prospect of so considerable a change in my condition should deprive me
+of sleep. I spent the night ruminating on the future, and in painting to
+my fancy the adventures which I should be likely to meet. The foresight
+of man is in proportion to his knowledge. No wonder that, in my state of
+profound ignorance, not the faintest preconception should be formed of
+the events that really befell me. My temper was inquisitive, but there
+was nothing in the scene to which I was going from which my curiosity
+expected to derive gratification. Discords and evil smells, unsavoury
+food, unwholesome labour, and irksome companions, were, in my opinion,
+the unavoidable attendants of a city.
+
+My best clothes were of the homeliest texture and shape. My whole stock
+of linen consisted of three check shirts. Part of my winter evenings'
+employment, since the death of my mother, consisted in knitting my own
+stockings. Of these I had three pair, one of which I put on, and the
+rest I formed, together with two shirts, into a bundle. Three
+quarter-dollar pieces composed my whole fortune in money.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+I rose at the dawn, and, without asking or bestowing a blessing, sallied
+forth into the highroad to the city, which passed near the house. I left
+nothing behind, the loss of which I regretted. I had purchased most of
+my own books with the product of my own separate industry, and, their
+number being, of course, small, I had, by incessant application, gotten
+the whole of them by rote. They had ceased, therefore, to be of any
+further use. I left them, without reluctance, to the fate for which I
+knew them to be reserved, that of affording food and habitation to mice.
+
+I trod this unwonted path with all the fearlessness of youth. In spite
+of the motives to despondency and apprehension incident to my state, my
+heels were light and my heart joyous. "Now," said I, "I am mounted into
+man. I must build a name and a fortune for myself. Strange if this
+intellect and these hands will not supply me with an honest livelihood.
+I will try the city in the first place; but, if that should fail,
+resources are still left to me. I will resume my post in the cornfield
+and threshing-floor, to which I shall always have access, and where I
+shall always be happy."
+
+I had proceeded some miles on my journey, when I began to feel the
+inroads of hunger. I might have stopped at any farm-house, and have
+breakfasted for nothing. It was prudent to husband, with the utmost
+care, my slender stock; but I felt reluctance to beg as long as I had
+the means of buying, and I imagined that coarse bread and a little milk
+would cost little even at a tavern, when any farmer was willing to
+bestow them for nothing. My resolution was further influenced by the
+appearance of a signpost. What excuse could I make for begging a
+breakfast with an inn at hand and silver in my pocket?
+
+I stopped, accordingly, and breakfasted. The landlord was remarkably
+attentive and obliging, but his bread was stale, his milk sour, and his
+cheese the greenest imaginable. I disdained to animadvert on these
+defects, naturally supposing that his house could furnish no better.
+
+Having finished my meal, I put, without speaking, one of my pieces into
+his hand. This deportment I conceived to be highly becoming, and to
+indicate a liberal and manly spirit. I always regarded with contempt a
+scrupulous maker of bargains. He received the money with a complaisant
+obeisance. "Right," said he. "_Just_ the money, sir. You are on foot,
+sir. A pleasant way of travelling, sir. I wish you a good day, sir." So
+saying, he walked away.
+
+This proceeding was wholly unexpected. I conceived myself entitled to at
+least three-fourths of it in change. The first impulse was to call him
+back, and contest the equity of his demand; but a moment's reflection
+showed me the absurdity of such conduct. I resumed my journey with
+spirits somewhat depressed. I have heard of voyagers and wanderers in
+deserts, who were willing to give a casket of gems for a cup of cold
+water. I had not supposed my own condition to be, in any respect,
+similar; yet I had just given one-third of my estate for a breakfast.
+
+I stopped at noon at another inn. I counted on purchasing a dinner for
+the same price, since I meant to content myself with the same fare. A
+large company was just sitting down to a smoking banquet. The landlord
+invited me to join them. I took my place at the table, but was furnished
+with bread and milk. Being prepared to depart, I took him aside. "What
+is to pay?" said I.--"Did you drink any thing, sir?"--"Certainly. I
+drank the milk which was furnished."--"But any liquors, sir?"---"No."
+
+He deliberated a moment, and then, assuming an air of disinterestedness,
+"'Tis our custom to charge dinner and club; but, as you drank nothing,
+we'll let the club go. A mere dinner is half a dollar, sir."
+
+He had no leisure to attend to my fluctuations. After debating with
+myself on what was to be done, I concluded that compliance was best,
+and, leaving the money at the bar, resumed my way.
+
+I had not performed more than half my journey, yet my purse was entirely
+exhausted. This was a specimen of the cost incurred by living at an inn.
+If I entered the city, a tavern must, at least for some time, be my
+abode; but I had not a farthing remaining to defray my charges. My
+father had formerly entertained a boarder for a dollar per week, and, in
+case of need, I was willing to subsist upon coarser fare and lie on a
+harder bed than those with which our guest had been supplied. These
+facts had been the foundation of my negligence on this occasion.
+
+What was now to be done? To return to my paternal mansion was
+impossible. To relinquish my design of entering the city and to seek a
+temporary asylum, if not permanent employment, at some one of the
+plantations within view, was the most obvious expedient. These
+deliberations did not slacken my pace. I was almost unmindful of my way,
+when I found I had passed Schuylkill at the upper bridge. I was now
+within the precincts of the city, and night was hastening. It behooved
+me to come to a speedy decision.
+
+Suddenly I recollected that I had not paid the customary toll at the
+bridge; neither had I money wherewith to pay it. A demand of payment
+would have suddenly arrested my progress; and so slight an incident
+would have precluded that wonderful destiny to which I was reserved. The
+obstacle that would have hindered my advance now prevented my return.
+Scrupulous honesty did not require me to turn back and awaken the
+vigilance of the toll-gatherer. I had nothing to pay, and by returning I
+should only double my debt. "Let it stand," said I, "where it does. All
+that honour enjoins is to pay when I am able."
+
+I adhered to the crossways, till I reached Market Street. Night had
+fallen, and a triple row of lamps presented a spectacle enchanting and
+new. My personal cares were, for a time, lost in the tumultuous
+sensations with which I was now engrossed. I had never visited the city
+at this hour. When my last visit was paid, I was a mere child. The
+novelty which environed every object was, therefore, nearly absolute. I
+proceeded with more cautious steps, but was still absorbed in attention
+to passing objects. I reached the market-house, and, entering it,
+indulged myself in new delight and new wonder.
+
+I need not remark that our ideas of magnificence and splendour are
+merely comparative; yet you may be prompted to smile when I tell you
+that, in walking through this avenue, I, for a moment, conceived myself
+transported to the hall "pendent with many a row of starry lamps and
+blazing crescents fed by naphtha and asphaltos." That this transition
+from my homely and quiet retreat had been effected in so few hours wore
+the aspect of miracle or magic.
+
+I proceeded from one of these buildings to another, till I reached their
+termination in Front Street. Here my progress was checked, and I sought
+repose to my weary limbs by seating myself on a stall. No wonder some
+fatigue was felt by me, accustomed as I was to strenuous exertions,
+since, exclusive of the minutes spent at breakfast and dinner, I had
+travelled fifteen hours and forty-five miles.
+
+I began now to reflect, with some earnestness, on my condition. I was a
+stranger, friendless and moneyless. I was unable to purchase food and
+shelter, and was wholly unused to the business of begging. Hunger was
+the only serious inconvenience to which I was immediately exposed. I had
+no objection to spend the night in the spot where I then sat. I had no
+fear that my visions would be troubled by the officers of police. It was
+no crime to be without a home; but how should I supply my present
+cravings and the cravings of to-morrow?
+
+At length it occurred to me that one of our country neighbours was
+probably at this time in the city. He kept a store as well as cultivated
+a farm. He was a plain and well-meaning man, and, should I be so
+fortunate as to meet him, his superior knowledge of the city might be of
+essential benefit to me in my present forlorn circumstances. His
+generosity might likewise induce him to lend me so much as would
+purchase one meal. I had formed the resolution to leave the city next
+day, and was astonished at the folly that had led me into it; but,
+meanwhile, my physical wants must be supplied.
+
+Where should I look for this man? In the course of conversation I
+recollected him to have referred to the place of his temporary abode. It
+was an inn; but the sign or the name of the keeper for some time
+withstood all my efforts to recall them.
+
+At length I lighted on the last. It was Lesher's tavern. I immediately
+set out in search of it. After many inquiries, I at last arrived at the
+door. I was preparing to enter the house when I perceived that my bundle
+was gone. I had left it on the stall where I had been sitting. People
+were perpetually passing to and fro. It was scarcely possible not to
+have been noticed. No one that observed it would fail to make it his
+prey. Yet it was of too much value to me to allow me to be governed by a
+bare probability. I resolved to lose not a moment in returning.
+
+With some difficulty I retraced my steps, but the bundle had
+disappeared. The clothes were, in themselves, of small value, but they
+constituted the whole of my wardrobe; and I now reflected that they were
+capable of being transmuted, by the pawn or sale of them, into food.
+There were other wretches as indigent as I was, and I consoled myself by
+thinking that my shirts and stockings might furnish a seasonable
+covering to their nakedness; but there was a relic concealed within this
+bundle, the loss of which could scarcely be endured by me. It was the
+portrait of a young man who died three years ago at my father's house,
+drawn by his own hand.
+
+He was discovered one morning in the orchard with many marks of insanity
+upon him. His air and dress bespoke some elevation of rank and fortune.
+My mother's compassion was excited, and, as his singularities were
+harmless, an asylum was afforded him, though he was unable to pay for
+it. He was constantly declaiming, in an incoherent manner, about some
+mistress who had proved faithless. His speeches seemed, however, like
+the rantings of an actor, to be rehearsed by rote or for the sake of
+exercise. He was totally careless of his person and health, and, by
+repeated negligences of this kind, at last contracted a fever of which
+he speedily died. The name which he assumed was Clavering.
+
+He gave no distinct account of his family, but stated, in loose terms,
+that they were residents in England, high-born and wealthy. That they
+had denied him the woman whom he loved and banished him to America,
+under penalty of death if he should dare to return, and that they had
+refused him all means of subsistence in a foreign land. He predicted, in
+his wild and declamatory way, his own death. He was very skilful at the
+pencil, and drew this portrait a short time before his dissolution,
+presented it to me, and charged me to preserve it in remembrance of him.
+My mother loved the youth because he was amiable and unfortunate, and
+chiefly because she fancied a very powerful resemblance between his
+countenance and mine. I was too young to build affection on any rational
+foundation. I loved him, for whatever reason, with an ardour unusual at
+my age, and which this portrait had contributed to prolong and to
+cherish.
+
+In thus finally leaving my home, I was careful not to leave this picture
+behind. I wrapped it in paper in which a few elegiac stanzas were
+inscribed in my own hand, and with my utmost elegance of penmanship. I
+then placed it in a leathern case, which, for greater security, was
+deposited in the centre of my bundle. It will occur to you, perhaps,
+that it would be safer in some fold or pocket of the clothes which I
+wore. I was of a different opinion, and was now to endure the penalty of
+my error.
+
+It was in vain to heap execrations on my negligence, or to consume the
+little strength left to me in regrets. I returned once more to the
+tavern and made inquiries for Mr. Capper, the person whom I have just
+mentioned as my father's neighbour. I was informed that Capper was now
+in town; that he had lodged, on the last night, at this house; that he
+had expected to do the same to-night, but a gentleman had called ten
+minutes ago, whose invitation to lodge with him to-night had been
+accepted. They had just gone out together. Who, I asked, was the
+gentleman? The landlord had no knowledge of him; he knew neither his
+place of abode nor his name. Was Mr. Capper expected to return hither in
+the morning? No; he had heard the stranger propose to Mr. Capper to go
+with him into the country to-morrow, and Mr. Capper, he believed, had
+assented.
+
+This disappointment was peculiarly severe. I had lost, by my own
+negligence, the only opportunity that would offer of meeting my friend.
+Had even the recollection of my loss been postponed for three minutes, I
+should have entered the house, and a meeting would have been secured. I
+could discover no other expedient to obviate the present evil. My heart
+began now, for the first time, to droop. I looked back, with nameless
+emotions, on the days of my infancy. I called up the image of my mother.
+I reflected on the infatuation of my surviving parent, and the
+usurpation of the detestable Betty, with horror. I viewed myself as the
+most calamitous and desolate of human beings.
+
+At this time I was sitting in the common room. There were others in the
+same apartment, lounging, or whistling, or singing. I noticed them not,
+but, leaning my head upon my hand, I delivered myself up to painful and
+intense meditation. From this I was roused by some one placing himself
+on the bench near me and addressing me thus:--"Pray, sir, if you will
+excuse me, who was the person whom you were looking for just now?
+Perhaps I can give you the information you want. If I can, you will be
+very welcome to it." I fixed my eyes with some eagerness on the person
+that spoke. He was a young man, expensively and fashionably dressed,
+whose mien was considerably prepossessing, and whose countenance bespoke
+some portion of discernment. I described to him the man whom I sought.
+"I am in search of the same man myself," said he, "but I expect to meet
+him here. He may lodge elsewhere, but he promised to meet me here at
+half after nine. I have no doubt he will fulfil his promise, so that you
+will meet the gentleman."
+
+I was highly gratified by this information, and thanked my informant
+with some degree of warmth. My gratitude he did not notice, but
+continued: "In order to beguile expectation, I have ordered supper;
+will you do me the favour to partake with me, unless indeed you have
+supped already?" I was obliged, somewhat awkwardly, to decline his
+invitation, conscious as I was that the means of payment were not in my
+power. He continued, however, to urge my compliance till at length it
+was, though reluctantly, yielded. My chief motive was the certainty of
+seeing Capper.
+
+My new acquaintance was exceedingly conversible, but his conversation
+was chiefly characterized by frankness and good-humour. My reserve
+gradually diminished, and I ventured to inform him, in general terms, of
+my former condition and present views. He listened to my details with
+seeming attention, and commented on them with some judiciousness. His
+statements, however, tended to discourage me from remaining in the city.
+
+Meanwhile the hour passed and Capper did not appear. I noticed this
+circumstance to him with no little solicitude. He said that possibly he
+might have forgotten or neglected his engagement. His affair was not of
+the highest importance, and might be readily postponed to a future
+opportunity. He perceived that my vivacity was greatly damped by this
+intelligence. He importuned me to disclose the cause. He made himself
+very merry with my distress, when it was at length discovered. As to the
+expense of supper, I had partaken of it at his invitation; he therefore
+should of course be charged with it. As to lodging, he had a chamber and
+a bed, which he would insist upon my sharing with him.
+
+My faculties were thus kept upon the stretch of wonder. Every new act of
+kindness in this man surpassed the fondest expectation that I had
+formed. I saw no reason why I should be treated with benevolence. I
+should have acted in the same manner if placed in the same
+circumstances; yet it appeared incongruous and inexplicable. I know
+whence my ideas of human nature were derived. They certainly were not
+the offspring of my own feelings. These would have taught me that
+interest and duty were blended in every act of generosity.
+
+I did not come into the world without my scruples and suspicions. I was
+more apt to impute kindnesses to sinister and hidden than to obvious and
+laudable motives.
+
+I paused to reflect upon the possible designs of this person. What end
+could be served by this behaviour? I was no subject of violence or
+fraud. I had neither trinket nor coin to stimulate the treachery of
+others. What was offered was merely lodging for the night. Was this an
+act of such transcendent disinterestedness as to be incredible? My garb
+was meaner than that of my companion, but my intellectual
+accomplishments were at least upon a level with his. Why should he be
+supposed to be insensible to my claims upon his kindness? I was a youth
+destitute of experience, money, and friends; but I was not devoid of all
+mental and personal endowments. That my merit should be discovered, even
+on such slender intercourse, had surely nothing in it that shocked
+belief.
+
+While I was thus deliberating, my new friend was earnest in his
+solicitations for my company. He remarked my hesitation, but ascribed it
+to a wrong cause. "Come," said he, "I can guess your objections and can
+obviate them. You are afraid of being ushered into company; and people
+who have passed their lives like you have a wonderful antipathy to
+strange faces; but this is bedtime with our family, so that we can defer
+your introduction to them till to-morrow. We may go to our chamber
+without being seen by any but servants."
+
+I had not been aware of this circumstance. My reluctance flowed from a
+different cause, but, now that the inconveniences of ceremony were
+mentioned, they appeared to me of considerable weight. I was well
+pleased that they should thus be avoided, and consented to go along with
+him.
+
+We passed several streets and turned several corners. At last we turned
+into a kind of court which seemed to be chiefly occupied by stables. "We
+will go," said he, "by the back way into the house. We shall thus save
+ourselves the necessity of entering the parlour, where some of the
+family may still be."
+
+My companion was as talkative as ever, but said nothing from which I
+could gather any knowledge of the number, character, and condition of
+his family.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+We arrived at a brick wall, through which we passed by a gate into an
+extensive court or yard. The darkness would allow me to see nothing but
+outlines. Compared with the pigmy dimensions of my father's wooden
+hovel, the buildings before me were of gigantic loftiness. The horses
+were here far more magnificently accommodated than I had been. By a
+large door we entered an elevated hall. "Stay here," said he, "just
+while I fetch a light."
+
+He returned, bearing a candle, before I had time to ponder on my present
+situation.
+
+We now ascended a staircase, covered with painted canvas. No one whose
+inexperience is less than mine can imagine to himself the impressions
+made upon me by surrounding objects. The height to which this stair
+ascended, its dimensions, and its ornaments, appeared to me a
+combination of all that was pompous and superb.
+
+We stopped not till we had reached the third story. Here my companion
+unlocked and led the way into a chamber. "This," said he, "is my room;
+permit me to welcome you into it."
+
+I had no time to examine this room before, by some accident, the candle
+was extinguished. "Curse upon my carelessness!" said he. "I must go down
+again and light the candle. I will return in a twinkling. Meanwhile you
+may undress yourself and go to bed." He went out, and, as I afterwards
+recollected, locked the door behind him.
+
+I was not indisposed to follow his advice, but my curiosity would first
+be gratified by a survey of the room. Its height and spaciousness were
+imperfectly discernible by starlight, and by gleams from a street-lamp.
+The floor was covered with a carpet, the walls with brilliant hangings;
+the bed and windows were shrouded by curtains of a rich texture and
+glossy hues. Hitherto I had merely read of these things. I knew them to
+be the decorations of opulence; and yet, as I viewed them, and
+remembered where and what I was on the same hour the preceding day, I
+could scarcely believe myself awake, or that my senses were not beguiled
+by some spell.
+
+"Where," said I, "will this adventure terminate? I rise on the morrow
+with the dawn and speed into the country. When this night is remembered,
+how like a vision will it appear! If I tell the tale by a kitchen-fire,
+my veracity will be disputed. I shall be ranked with the story-tellers
+of Shiraz and Bagdad."
+
+Though busied in these reflections, I was not inattentive to the
+progress of time. Methought my companion was remarkably dilatory. He
+went merely to relight his candle, but certainly he might, during this
+time, have performed the operation ten times over. Some unforeseen
+accident might occasion his delay.
+
+Another interval passed, and no tokens of his coming. I began now to
+grow uneasy. I was unable to account for his detention. Was not some
+treachery designed? I went to the door, and found that it was locked.
+This heightened my suspicions. I was alone, a stranger, in an upper room
+of the house. Should my conductor have disappeared, by design or by
+accident, and some one of the family should find me here, what would be
+the consequence? Should I not be arrested as a thief, and conveyed to
+prison? My transition from the street to this chamber would not be more
+rapid than my passage hence to a jail.
+
+These ideas struck me with panic. I revolved them anew, but they only
+acquired greater plausibility. No doubt I had been the victim of
+malicious artifice. Inclination, however, conjured up opposite
+sentiments, and my fears began to subside. What motive, I asked, could
+induce a human being to inflict wanton injury? I could not account for
+his delay; but how numberless were the contingencies that might occasion
+it!
+
+I was somewhat comforted by these reflections, but the consolation they
+afforded was short-lived. I was listening with the utmost eagerness to
+catch the sound of a foot, when a noise was indeed heard, but totally
+unlike a step. It was human breath struggling, as it were, for passage.
+On the first effort of attention, it appeared like a groan. Whence it
+arose I could not tell. He that uttered it was near; perhaps in the
+room.
+
+Presently the same noise was again heard, and now I perceived that it
+came from the bed. It was accompanied with a motion like some one
+changing his posture. What I at first conceived to be a groan appeared
+now to be nothing more than the expiration of a sleeping man. What
+should I infer from this incident? My companion did not apprize me that
+the apartment was inhabited. Was his imposture a jestful or a wicked
+one?
+
+There was no need to deliberate. There were no means of concealment or
+escape. The person would some time awaken and detect me. The interval
+would only be fraught with agony, and it was wise to shorten it. Should
+I not withdraw the curtain, awake the person, and encounter at once all
+the consequences of my situation? I glided softly to the bed, when the
+thought occurred, May not the sleeper be a female?
+
+I cannot describe the mixture of dread and of shame which glowed in my
+veins. The light in which such a visitant would be probably regarded by
+a woman's fears, the precipitate alarms that might be given, the injury
+which I might unknowingly inflict or undeservedly suffer, threw my
+thoughts into painful confusion. My presence might pollute a spotless
+reputation, or furnish fuel to jealousy.
+
+Still, though it were a female, would not less injury be done by gently
+interrupting her slumber? But the question of sex still remained to be
+decided. For this end I once more approached the bed, and drew aside the
+silk. The sleeper was a babe. This I discovered by the glimmer of a
+street-lamp.
+
+Part of my solicitudes were now removed. It was plain that this chamber
+belonged to a nurse or a mother. She had not yet come to bed. Perhaps it
+was a married pair, and their approach might be momently expected. I
+pictured to myself their entrance and my own detection. I could imagine
+no consequence that was not disastrous and horrible, and from which I
+would not at any price escape. I again examined the door, and found that
+exit by this avenue was impossible. There were other doors in this room.
+Any practicable expedient in this extremity was to be pursued. One of
+these was bolted. I unfastened it and found a considerable space within.
+Should I immure myself in this closet? I saw no benefit that would
+finally result from it. I discovered that there was a bolt on the
+inside, which would somewhat contribute to security. This being drawn,
+no one could enter without breaking the door.
+
+I had scarcely paused, when the long-expected sound of footsteps was
+heard in the entry. Was it my companion, or a stranger? If it were the
+latter, I had not yet mustered courage sufficient to meet him. I cannot
+applaud the magnanimity of my proceeding; but no one can expect intrepid
+or judicious measures from one in my circumstances. I stepped into the
+closet, and closed the door. Some one immediately after unlocked the
+chamber door. He was unattended with a light. The footsteps, as they
+moved along the carpet, could scarcely be heard.
+
+I waited impatiently for some token by which I might be governed. I put
+my ear to the keyhole, and at length heard a voice, but not that of my
+companion, exclaim, somewhat above a whisper, "Smiling cherub! safe and
+sound, I see. Would to God my experiment may succeed, and that thou
+mayest find a mother where I have found a wife!" There he stopped. He
+appeared to kiss the babe, and, presently retiring, locked the door
+after him.
+
+These words were capable of no consistent meaning. They served, at
+least, to assure me that I had been treacherously dealt with. This
+chamber, it was manifest, did not belong to my companion. I put up
+prayers to my Deity that he would deliver me from these toils. What a
+condition was mine! Immersed in palpable darkness! shut up in this
+unknown recess! lurking like a robber!
+
+My meditations were disturbed by new sounds. The door was unlocked,
+more than one person entered the apartment, and light streamed through
+the keyhole. I looked; but the aperture was too small and the figures
+passed too quickly to permit me the sight of them. I bent my ear, and
+this imparted some more authentic information.
+
+The man, as I judged by the voice, was the same who had just departed.
+Rustling of silk denoted his companion to be female. Some words being
+uttered by the man, in too low a key to be overheard, the lady burst
+into a passion of tears. He strove to comfort her by soothing tones and
+tender appellations. "How can it be helped?" said he. "It is time to
+resume your courage. Your duty to yourself and to me requires you to
+subdue this unreasonable grief."
+
+He spoke frequently in this strain, but all he said seemed to have
+little influence in pacifying the lady. At length, however, her sobs
+began to lessen in vehemence and frequency. He exhorted her to seek for
+some repose. Apparently she prepared to comply, and conversation was,
+for a few minutes, intermitted.
+
+I could not but advert to the possibility that some occasion to examine
+the closet, in which I was immured, might occur. I knew not in what
+manner to demean myself if this should take place. I had no option at
+present. By withdrawing myself from view I had lost the privilege of an
+upright deportment. Yet the thought of spending the night in this spot
+was not to be endured.
+
+Gradually I began to view the project of bursting from the closet, and
+trusting to the energy of truth and of an artless tale, with more
+complacency. More than once my hand was placed upon the bolt, but
+withdrawn by a sudden faltering of resolution. When one attempt failed,
+I recurred once more to such reflections as were adapted to renew my
+purpose.
+
+I preconcerted the address which I should use. I resolved to be
+perfectly explicit; to withhold no particular of my adventures from the
+moment of my arrival. My description must necessarily suit some person
+within their knowledge. All I should want was liberty to depart; but, if
+this were not allowed, I might at least hope to escape any ill
+treatment, and to be confronted with my betrayer. In that case I did not
+fear to make him the attester of my innocence.
+
+Influenced by these considerations, I once more touched the lock. At
+that moment the lady shrieked, and exclaimed, "Good God! What is here?"
+An interesting conversation ensued. The object that excited her
+astonishment was the child. I collected from what passed that the
+discovery was wholly unexpected by her. Her husband acted as if equally
+unaware of this event. He joined in all her exclamations of wonder and
+all her wild conjectures. When these were somewhat exhausted, he
+artfully insinuated the propriety of bestowing care upon the little
+foundling. I now found that her grief had been occasioned by the recent
+loss of her own offspring. She was, for some time, averse to her
+husband's proposal, but at length was persuaded to take the babe to her
+bosom and give it nourishment.
+
+This incident had diverted my mind from its favourite project, and
+filled me with speculations on the nature of the scene. One explication
+was obvious, that the husband was the parent of this child, and had used
+this singular expedient to procure for it the maternal protection of his
+wife. It would soon claim from her all the fondness which she
+entertained for her own progeny. No suspicion probably had yet, or would
+hereafter, occur with regard to its true parent. If her character be
+distinguished by the usual attributes of women, the knowledge of this
+truth may convert her love into hatred. I reflected with amazement on
+the slightness of that thread by which human passions are led from their
+true direction. With no less amazement did I remark the complexity of
+incidents by which I had been empowered to communicate to her this
+truth. How baseless are the structures of falsehood, which we build in
+opposition to the system of eternal nature! If I should escape
+undetected from this recess, it will be true that I never saw the face
+of either of these persons, and yet I am acquainted with the most secret
+transaction of their lives.
+
+My own situation was now more critical than before. The lights were
+extinguished, and the parties had sought repose. To issue from the
+closet now would be imminently dangerous. My councils were again at a
+stand and my designs frustrated. Meanwhile the persons did not drop
+their discourse, and I thought myself justified in listening. Many facts
+of the most secret and momentous nature were alluded to. Some allusions
+were unintelligible. To others I was able to affix a plausible meaning,
+and some were palpable enough. Every word that was uttered on that
+occasion is indelibly imprinted on my memory. Perhaps the singularity of
+my circumstances, and my previous ignorance of what was passing in the
+world, contributed to render me a greedy listener. Most that was said I
+shall overlook; but one part of the conversation it will be necessary to
+repeat.
+
+A large company had assembled that evening at their house. They
+criticized the character and manners of several. At last the husband
+said, "What think you of the nabob? Especially when he talked about
+riches? How artfully he encourages the notion of his poverty! Yet not a
+soul believes him. I cannot for my part account for that scheme of his.
+I half suspect that his wealth flows from a bad source, since he is so
+studious of concealing it."
+
+"Perhaps, after all," said the lady, "you are mistaken as to his
+wealth."
+
+"Impossible," exclaimed the other. "Mark how he lives. Have I not seen
+his bank-account? His deposits, since he has been here, amount to no
+less than half a million."
+
+"Heaven grant that it be so!" said the lady, with a sigh. "I shall think
+with less aversion of your scheme. If poor Tom's fortune be made, and he
+not the worse, or but little the worse on that account, I shall think it
+on the whole best."
+
+"That," replied he, "is what reconciles me to the scheme. To him thirty
+thousand are nothing."
+
+"But will he not suspect you of some hand in it?"
+
+"How can he? Will I not appear to lose as well as himself? Tom is my
+brother, but who can be supposed to answer for a brother's integrity?
+but he cannot suspect either of us. Nothing less than a miracle can
+bring our plot to light. Besides, this man is not what he ought to be.
+He will, some time or other, come out to be a grand impostor. He makes
+money by other arts than bargain and sale. He has found his way, by some
+means, to the Portuguese treasury."
+
+Here the conversation took a new direction, and, after some time, the
+silence of sleep ensued.
+
+Who, thought I, is this nabob who counts his dollars by half-millions,
+and on whom it seems as if some fraud was intended to be practised?
+Amidst their wariness and subtlety, how little are they aware that their
+conversation has been overheard! By means as inscrutable as those which
+conducted me hither, I may hereafter be enabled to profit by this
+detection of a plot. But, meanwhile, what was I to do? How was I to
+effect my escape from this perilous asylum?
+
+After much reflection, it occurred to me that to gain the street without
+exciting their notice was not utterly impossible. Sleep does not
+commonly end of itself, unless at a certain period. What impediments
+were there between me and liberty which I could not remove, and remove
+with so much caution as to escape notice? Motion and sound inevitably go
+together; but every sound is not attended to. The doors of the closet
+and the chamber did not creak upon their hinges. The latter might be
+locked. This I was able to ascertain only by experiment. If it were so,
+yet the key was probably in the lock, and might be used without much
+noise.
+
+I waited till their slow and hoarser inspirations showed them to be both
+asleep. Just then, on changing my position, my head struck against some
+things which depended from the ceiling of the closet. They were
+implements of some kind which rattled against each other in consequence
+of this unlucky blow. I was fearful lest this noise should alarm, as the
+closet was little distant from the bed. The breathing of one instantly
+ceased, and a motion was made as if the head were lifted from the
+pillow. This motion, which was made by the husband, awaked his
+companion, who exclaimed, "What is the matter?"
+
+"Something, I believe," replied he, "in the closet. If I was not
+dreaming, I heard the pistols strike against each other as if some one
+was taking them down."
+
+This intimation was well suited to alarm the lady. She besought him to
+ascertain the matter. This, to my utter dismay, he at first consented to
+do, but presently observed that probably his ears had misinformed him.
+It was hardly possible that the sound proceeded from them. It might be a
+rat, or his own fancy might have fashioned it. It is not easy to
+describe my trepidations while this conference was holding. I saw how
+easily their slumber was disturbed. The obstacles to my escape were less
+surmountable than I had imagined.
+
+In a little time all was again still. I waited till the usual tokens of
+sleep were distinguishable. I once more resumed my attempt. The bolt was
+withdrawn with all possible slowness; but I could by no means prevent
+all sound. My state was full of inquietude and suspense; my attention
+being painfully divided between the bolt and the condition of the
+sleepers. The difficulty lay in giving that degree of force which was
+barely sufficient. Perhaps not less than fifteen minutes were consumed
+in this operation. At last it was happily effected, and the door was
+cautiously opened.
+
+Emerging as I did from utter darkness, the light admitted into three
+windows produced, to my eyes, a considerable illumination. Objects
+which, on my first entrance into this apartment, were invisible, were
+now clearly discerned. The bed was shrouded by curtains, yet I shrunk
+back into my covert, fearful of being seen. To facilitate my escape, I
+put off my shoes. My mind was so full of objects of more urgent moment,
+that the propriety of taking them along with me never occurred. I left
+them in the closet.
+
+I now glided across the apartment to the door. I was not a little
+discouraged by observing that the key was wanting. My whole hope
+depended on the omission to lock it. In my haste to ascertain this
+point, I made some noise which again roused one of the sleepers. He
+started, and cried, "Who is there?"
+
+I now regarded my case as desperate, and detection as inevitable. My
+apprehensions, rather than my caution, kept me mute. I shrunk to the
+wall, and waited in a kind of agony for the moment that should decide my
+fate.
+
+The lady was again roused. In answer to her inquiries, her husband said
+that some one, he believed, was at the door, but there was no danger of
+their entering, for he had locked it, and the key was in his pocket.
+
+My courage was completely annihilated by this piece of intelligence. My
+resources were now at an end. I could only remain in this spot till the
+morning light, which could be at no great distance, should discover me.
+My inexperience disabled me from estimating all the perils of my
+situation. Perhaps I had no more than temporary inconveniences to dread.
+My intention was innocent, and I had been betrayed into my present
+situation, not by my own wickedness, but the wickedness of others.
+
+I was deeply impressed with the ambiguousness which would necessarily
+rest upon my motives, and the scrutiny to which they would be subjected.
+I shuddered at the bare possibility of being ranked with thieves. These
+reflections again gave edge to my ingenuity in search of the means of
+escape. I had carefully attended to the circumstances of their entrance.
+Possibly the act of locking had been unnoticed; but was it not likewise
+possible that this person had been mistaken? The key was gone. Would
+this have been the case if the door were unlocked?
+
+My fears, rather than my hopes, impelled me to make the experiment. I
+drew back the latch, and, to my unspeakable joy, the door opened.
+
+I passed through and explored my way to the staircase. I descended till
+I reached the bottom. I could not recollect with accuracy the position
+of the door leading into the court, but, by carefully feeling along the
+wall with my hands, I at length discovered it. It was fastened by
+several bolts and a lock. The bolts were easily withdrawn, but the key
+was removed. I knew not where it was deposited. I thought I had reached
+the threshold of liberty, but here was an impediment that threatened to
+be insurmountable.
+
+But, if doors could not be passed, windows might be unbarred. I
+remembered that my companion had gone into a door on the left hand, in
+search of a light. I searched for this door. Fortunately it was fastened
+only by a bolt. It admitted me into a room which I carefully explored
+till I reached a window. I will not dwell on my efforts to unbar this
+entrance. Suffice it to say that, after much exertion and frequent
+mistakes, I at length found my way into the yard, and thence passed into
+the court.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Now I was once more on public ground. By so many anxious efforts had I
+disengaged myself from the perilous precincts of private property. As
+many stratagems as are usually made to enter a house had been employed
+by me to get out of it. I was urged to the use of them by my fears; yet,
+so far from carrying off spoil, I had escaped with the loss of an
+essential part of my dress.
+
+I had now leisure to reflect. I seated myself on the ground and reviewed
+the scenes through which I had just passed. I began to think that my
+industry had been misemployed. Suppose I had met the person on his first
+entrance into his chamber? Was the truth so utterly wild as not to have
+found credit? Since the door was locked, and there was no other avenue,
+what other statement but the true one would account for my being found
+there? This deportment had been worthy of an honest purpose. My betrayer
+probably expected that this would be the issue of his jest. My rustic
+simplicity, he might think, would suggest no more ambiguous or elaborate
+expedient. He might likewise have predetermined to interfere if my
+safety had been really endangered.
+
+On the morrow the two doors of the chamber and the window below would be
+found unclosed. They will suspect a design to pillage, but their
+searches will terminate in nothing but in the discovery of a pair of
+clumsy and dusty shoes in the closet. Now that I was safe I could not
+help smiling at the picture which my fancy drew of their anxiety and
+wonder. These thoughts, however, gave place to more momentous
+considerations.
+
+I could not imagine to myself a more perfect example of indigence than I
+now exhibited. There was no being in the city on whose kindness I had
+any claim. Money I had none, and what I then wore comprised my whole
+stock of movables. I had just lost my shoes, and this loss rendered my
+stockings of no use. My dignity remonstrated against a barefoot
+pilgrimage, but to this, necessity now reconciled me. I threw my
+stockings between the bars of a stable-window, belonging, as I thought,
+to the mansion I had just left. These, together with my shoes, I left to
+pay the cost of my entertainment.
+
+I saw that the city was no place for me. The end that I had had in view,
+of procuring some mechanical employment, could only be obtained by the
+use of means, but what means to pursue I knew not. This night's perils
+and deceptions gave me a distaste to a city life, and my ancient
+occupations rose to my view enhanced by a thousand imaginary charms, I
+resolved forthwith to strike into the country.
+
+The day began now to dawn. It was Sunday, and I was desirous of eluding
+observation. I was somewhat recruited by rest, though the languors of
+sleeplessness oppressed me. I meant to throw myself on the first lap of
+verdure I should meet, and indulge in sleep that I so much wanted. I
+knew not the direction of the streets; but followed that which I first
+entered from the court, trusting that, by adhering steadily to one
+course, I should some time reach the fields. This street, as I
+afterwards found, tended to Schuylkill, and soon extricated me from
+houses. I could not cross this river without payment of toll. It was
+requisite to cross it in order to reach that part of the country whither
+I was desirous of going; but how should I effect my passage? I knew of
+no ford, and the smallest expense exceeded my capacity. Ten thousand
+guineas and a farthing were equally remote from nothing, and nothing was
+the portion allotted to me.
+
+While my mind was thus occupied, I turned up one of the streets which
+tend northward. It was, for some length, uninhabited and unpaved.
+Presently I reached a pavement, and a painted fence, along which a row
+of poplars was planted. It bounded a garden into which a knot-hole
+permitted me to pry. The enclosure was a charming green, which I saw
+appended to a house of the loftiest and most stately order. It seemed
+like a recent erection, had all the gloss of novelty, and exhibited, to
+my unpractised eyes, the magnificence of palaces. My father's dwelling
+did not equal the height of one story, and might be easily comprised in
+one-fourth of those buildings which here were designed to accommodate
+the menials. My heart dictated the comparison between my own condition
+and that of the proprietors of this domain. How wide and how impassable
+was the gulf by which we were separated! This fair inheritance had
+fallen to one who, perhaps, would only abuse it to the purposes of
+luxury, while I, with intentions worthy of the friend of mankind, was
+doomed to wield the flail and the mattock.
+
+I had been entirely unaccustomed to this strain of reflection. My books
+had taught me the dignity and safety of the middle path, and my darling
+writer abounded with encomiums on rural life. At a distance from luxury
+and pomp, I viewed them, perhaps, in a just light. A nearer scrutiny
+confirmed my early prepossessions; but, at the distance at which I now
+stood, the lofty edifices, the splendid furniture, and the copious
+accommodations of the rich excited my admiration and my envy.
+
+I relinquished my station, and proceeded, in a heartless mood, along the
+fence. I now came to the mansion itself. The principal door was entered
+by a staircase of marble. I had never seen the stone of Carrara, and
+wildly supposed this to have been dug from Italian quarries. The beauty
+of the poplars, the coolness exhaled from the dew-besprent bricks, the
+commodiousness of the seat which these steps afforded, and the
+uncertainty into which I was plunged respecting my future conduct, all
+combined to make me pause. I sat down on the lower step and began to
+meditate.
+
+By some transition it occurred to me that the supply of my most urgent
+wants might be found in some inhabitant of this house. I needed at
+present a few cents; and what were a few cents to the tenant of a
+mansion like this? I had an invincible aversion to the calling of a
+beggar, but I regarded with still more antipathy the vocation of a
+thief; to this alternative, however, I was now reduced. I must either
+steal or beg; unless, indeed, assistance could be procured under the
+notion of a loan. Would a stranger refuse to lend the pittance that I
+wanted? Surely not, when the urgency of my wants was explained.
+
+I recollected other obstacles. To summon the master of the house from
+his bed, perhaps, for the sake of such an application, would be
+preposterous. I should be in more danger of provoking his anger than
+exciting his benevolence. This request might, surely, with more
+propriety be preferred to a passenger. I should, probably, meet several
+before I should arrive at Schuylkill.
+
+A servant just then appeared at the door, with bucket and brush. This
+obliged me, much sooner than I intended, to decamp. With some reluctance
+I rose and proceeded. This house occupied the corner of the street, and
+I now turned this corner towards the country. A person, at some distance
+before me, was approaching in an opposite direction.
+
+"Why," said I, "may I not make my demand of the first man I meet? This
+person exhibits tokens of ability to lend. There is nothing chilling or
+austere in his demeanour."
+
+The resolution to address this passenger was almost formed; but the
+nearer he advanced my resolves grew less firm. He noticed me not till he
+came within a few paces. He seemed busy in reflection; and, had not my
+figure caught his eye, or had he merely bestowed a passing glance upon
+me, I should not have been sufficiently courageous to have detained him.
+The event, however, was widely different.
+
+He looked at me and started. For an instant, as it were, and till he had
+time to dart at me a second glance, he checked his pace. This behaviour
+decided mine, and he stopped on perceiving tokens of a desire to address
+him. I spoke, but my accents and air sufficiently denoted my
+embarrassments:--
+
+"I am going to solicit a favour which my situation makes of the highest
+importance to me, and which I hope it will be easy for you, sir, to
+grant. It is not an alms, but a loan, that I seek; a loan that I will
+repay the moment I am able to do it. I am going to the country, but
+have not wherewith to pay my passage over Schuylkill, or to buy a morsel
+of bread. May I venture to request of you, sir, the loan of sixpence? As
+I told you, it is my intention to repay it."
+
+I delivered this address, not without some faltering, but with great
+earnestness. I laid particular stress upon my intention to refund the
+money. He listened with a most inquisitive air. His eye perused me from
+head to foot.
+
+After some pause, he said, in a very emphatic manner, "Why into the
+country? Have you family? Kindred? Friends?"
+
+"No," answered I, "I have neither. I go in search of the means of
+subsistence. I have passed my life upon a farm, and propose to die in
+the same condition."
+
+"Whence have you come?"
+
+"I came yesterday from the country, with a view to earn my bread in some
+way, but have changed my plan and propose now to return."
+
+"Why have you changed it? In what way are you capable of earning your
+bread?"
+
+"I hardly know," said I. "I can, as yet, manage no tool, that can be
+managed in the city, but the pen. My habits have, in some small degree,
+qualified me for a writer. I would willingly accept employment of that
+kind."
+
+He fixed his eyes upon the earth, and was silent for some minutes. At
+length, recovering himself, he said, "Follow me to my house. Perhaps
+something may be done for you. If not, I will lend you sixpence."
+
+It may be supposed that I eagerly complied with the invitation. My
+companion said no more, his air bespeaking him to be absorbed by his own
+thoughts, till he reached his house, which proved to be that at the door
+of which I had been seated. We entered a parlour together.
+
+Unless you can assume my ignorance and my simplicity, you will be unable
+to conceive the impressions that were made by the size and ornaments of
+this apartment. I shall omit these impressions, which, indeed, no
+description could adequately convey, and dwell on incidents of greater
+moment. He asked me to give him a specimen of my penmanship. I told you
+that I had bestowed very great attention upon this art. Implements were
+brought, and I sat down to the task. By some inexplicable connection a
+line in Shakspeare occurred to me, and I wrote,--
+
+ "My poverty, but not my will, consents."
+
+The sentiment conveyed in this line powerfully affected him, but in a
+way which I could not then comprehend. I collected from subsequent
+events that the inference was not unfavourable to my understanding or my
+morals. He questioned me as to my history. I related my origin and my
+inducements to desert my father's house. With respect to last night's
+adventures I was silent. I saw no useful purpose that could be answered
+by disclosure, and I half suspected that my companion would refuse
+credit to my tale.
+
+There were frequent intervals of abstraction and reflection between his
+questions. My examination lasted not much less than an hour. At length
+he said, "I want an amanuensis or copyist. On what terms will you live
+with me?"
+
+I answered that I knew not how to estimate the value of my services. I
+knew not whether these services were agreeable or healthful. My life had
+hitherto been active. My constitution was predisposed to diseases of the
+lungs, and the change might be hurtful. I was willing, however, to try
+and to content myself for a month or a year, with so much as would
+furnish me with food, clothing, and lodging.
+
+"'Tis well," said he. "You remain with me as long and no longer than
+both of us please. You shall lodge and eat in this house. I will supply
+you with clothing, and your task will be to write what I dictate. Your
+person, I see, has not shared much of your attention. It is in my power
+to equip you instantly in the manner which becomes a resident in this
+house. Come with me."
+
+He led the way into the court behind and thence into a neat building,
+which contained large wooden vessels and a pump: "There," said he, "you
+may wash yourself; and, when that is done, I will conduct you to your
+chamber and your wardrobe."
+
+This was speedily performed, and he accordingly led the way to the
+chamber. It was an apartment in the third story, finished and furnished
+in the same costly and superb style with the rest of the house. He
+opened closets and drawers which overflowed with clothes and linen of
+all and of the best kinds. "These are yours," said he, "as long as you
+stay with me. Dress yourself as likes you best. Here is every thing your
+nakedness requires. When dressed, you may descend to breakfast." With
+these words he left me.
+
+The clothes were all in the French style, as I afterwards, by comparing
+my garb with that of others, discovered. They were fitted to my shape
+with the nicest precision. I bedecked myself with all my care. I
+remembered the style of dress used by my beloved Clavering. My locks
+were of shining auburn, flowing and smooth like his. Having wrung the
+wet from them, and combed, I tied them carelessly in a black riband.
+Thus equipped, I surveyed myself in a mirror.
+
+You may imagine, if you can, the sensations which this instantaneous
+transformation produced. Appearances are wonderfully influenced by
+dress. Check shirt, buttoned at the neck, an awkward fustian coat, check
+trowsers and bare feet, were now supplanted by linen and muslin, nankeen
+coat striped with green, a white silk waistcoat elegantly
+needle-wrought, cassimere pantaloons, stockings of variegated silk, and
+shoes that in their softness, pliancy, and polished surface vied with
+satin. I could scarcely forbear looking back to see whether the image in
+the glass, so well proportioned, so gallant, and so graceful, did not
+belong to another. I could scarcely recognise any lineaments of my own.
+I walked to the window. "Twenty minutes ago," said I, "I was traversing
+that path a barefoot beggar; now I am thus." Again I surveyed myself.
+"Surely some insanity has fastened on my understanding. My senses are
+the sport of dreams. Some magic that disdains the cumbrousness of
+nature's progress has wrought this change." I was roused from these
+doubts by a summons to breakfast, obsequiously delivered by a black
+servant.
+
+I found Welbeck (for I shall henceforth call him by his true name) at
+the breakfast-table. A superb equipage of silver and china was before
+him. He was startled at my entrance. The change in my dress seemed for a
+moment to have deceived him. His eye was frequently fixed upon me with
+unusual steadfastness. At these times there was inquietude and wonder in
+his features.
+
+I had now an opportunity of examining my host. There was nicety but no
+ornament in his dress. His form was of the middle height, spare, but
+vigorous and graceful. His face was cast, I thought, in a foreign mould.
+His forehead receded beyond the usual degree in visages which I had
+seen. His eyes large and prominent, but imparting no marks of benignity
+and habitual joy. The rest of his face forcibly suggested the idea of a
+convex edge. His whole figure impressed me with emotions of veneration
+and awe. A gravity that almost amounted to sadness invariably attended
+him when we were alone together.
+
+He whispered the servant that waited, who immediately retired. He then
+said, turning to me, "A lady will enter presently, whom you are to treat
+with the respect due to my daughter. You must not notice any emotion she
+may betray at the sight of you, nor expect her to converse with you; for
+she does not understand your language." He had scarcely spoken when she
+entered. I was seized with certain misgivings and flutterings which a
+clownish education may account for. I so far conquered my timidity,
+however, as to snatch a look at her. I was not born to execute her
+portrait. Perhaps the turban that wreathed her head, the brilliant
+texture and inimitable folds of her drapery, and nymphlike port, more
+than the essential attributes of her person, gave splendour to the
+celestial vision. Perhaps it was her snowy hues, and the cast rather
+than the position of her features, that were so prolific of enchantment;
+or perhaps the wonder originated only in my own ignorance.
+
+She did not immediately notice me. When she did she almost shrieked with
+surprise. She held up her hands, and, gazing upon me, uttered various
+exclamations which I could not understand. I could only remark that her
+accents were thrillingly musical. Her perturbations refused to be
+stilled. It was with difficulty that she withdrew her regards from me.
+Much conversation passed between her and Welbeck, but I could comprehend
+no part of it. I was at liberty to animadvert on the visible part of
+their intercourse. I diverted some part of my attention from my own
+embarrassments, and fixed it on their looks.
+
+In this art, as in most others, I was an unpractised simpleton. In the
+countenance of Welbeck, there was somewhat else than sympathy with the
+astonishment and distress of the lady; but I could not interpret these
+additional tokens. When her attention was engrossed by Welbeck, her eyes
+were frequently vagrant or downcast; her cheeks contracted a deeper hue;
+and her breathing was almost prolonged into a sigh. These were marks on
+which I made no comments at the time. My own situation was calculated to
+breed confusion in my thoughts and awkwardness in my gestures. Breakfast
+being finished, the lady, apparently at the request of Welbeck, sat down
+to a piano-forte.
+
+Here again I must be silent. I was not wholly destitute of musical
+practice and musical taste. I had that degree of knowledge which enabled
+me to estimate the transcendent skill of this performer. As if the
+pathos of her touch were insufficient, I found after some time that the
+lawless jarrings of the keys were chastened by her own more liquid
+notes. She played without a book, and, though her bass might be
+preconcerted, it was plain that her right-hand notes were momentary and
+spontaneous inspirations. Meanwhile Welbeck stood, leaning his arms on
+the back of a chair near her, with his eyes fixed on her face. His
+features were fraught with a meaning which I was eager to interpret, but
+unable.
+
+I have read of transitions effected by magic; I have read of palaces and
+deserts which were subject to the dominion of spells; poets may sport
+with their power, but I am certain that no transition was ever conceived
+more marvellous and more beyond the reach of foresight than that which I
+had just experienced. Heaths vexed by a midnight storm may be changed
+into a hall of choral nymphs and regal banqueting; forest glades may
+give sudden place to colonnades and carnivals; but he whose senses are
+deluded finds himself still on his natal earth. These miracles are
+contemptible when compared with that which placed me under this roof and
+gave me to partake in this audience. I know that my emotions are in
+danger of being regarded as ludicrous by those who cannot figure to
+themselves the consequences of a limited and rustic education.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+In a short time the lady retired. I naturally expected that some
+comments would be made on her behaviour, and that the cause of her
+surprise and distress on seeing me would be explained; but Welbeck said
+nothing on that subject. When she had gone, he went to the window and
+stood for some time occupied, as it seemed, with his own thoughts. Then
+he turned to me, and, calling me by my name, desired me to accompany him
+up-stairs. There was neither cheerfulness nor mildness in his address,
+but neither was there any thing domineering or arrogant.
+
+We entered an apartment on the same floor with my chamber, but separated
+from it by a spacious entry. It was supplied with bureaus, cabinets, and
+bookcases. "This," said he, "is your room and mine; but we must enter it
+and leave it together. I mean to act not as your master but your friend.
+My maimed hand" (so saying, he showed me his right hand, the forefinger
+of which was wanting) "will not allow me to write accurately or
+copiously. For this reason I have required your aid, in a work of some
+moment. Much haste will not be requisite, and, as to the hours and
+duration of employment, these will be seasonable and short.
+
+"Your present situation is new to you, and we will therefore defer
+entering on our business. Meanwhile you may amuse yourself in what
+manner you please. Consider this house as your home and make yourself
+familiar with it. Stay within or go out, be busy or be idle, as your
+fancy shall prompt: only you will conform to our domestic system as to
+eating and sleep; the servants will inform you of this. Next week we
+will enter on the task for which I designed you. You may now withdraw."
+
+I obeyed this mandate with some awkwardness and hesitation. I went into
+my own chamber not displeased with an opportunity of loneliness. I threw
+myself on a chair and resigned myself to those thoughts which would
+naturally arise in this situation. I speculated on the character and
+views of Welbeck. I saw that he was embosomed in tranquillity and
+grandeur. Riches, therefore, were his; but in what did his opulence
+consist, and whence did it arise? What were the limits by which it was
+confined, and what its degree of permanence? I was unhabituated to ideas
+of floating or transferable wealth. The rent of houses and lands was the
+only species of property which was, as yet, perfectly intelligible. My
+previous ideas led me to regard Welbeck as the proprietor of this
+dwelling and of numerous houses and farms. By the same cause I was fain
+to suppose him enriched by inheritance, and that his life had been
+uniform.
+
+I next adverted to his social condition. This mansion appeared to have
+but two inhabitants besides servants. Who was the nymph who had hovered
+for a moment in my sight? Had he not called her his daughter? The
+apparent difference in their ages would justify this relation; but her
+guise, her features, and her accents, were foreign. Her language I
+suspected strongly to be that of Italy. How should he be the father of
+an Italian? But were there not some foreign lineaments in his
+countenance?
+
+This idea seemed to open a new world to my view. I had gained, from my
+books, confused ideas of European governments and manners. I knew that
+the present was a period of revolution and hostility. Might not these be
+illustrious fugitives from Provence or the Milanese? Their portable
+wealth, which may reasonably be supposed to be great, they have
+transported hither. Thus may be explained the sorrow that veils their
+countenance. The loss of estates and honours; the untimely death of
+kindred, and perhaps of his wife, may furnish eternal food for regrets.
+Welbeck's utterance, though rapid and distinct, partook, as I conceived,
+in some very slight degree of a foreign idiom.
+
+Such was the dream that haunted my undisciplined and unenlightened
+imagination. The more I revolved it, the more plausible it seemed. On
+due supposition every appearance that I had witnessed was easily
+solved,--unless it were their treatment of me. This, at first, was a
+source of hopeless perplexity. Gradually, however, a clue seemed to be
+afforded. Welbeck had betrayed astonishment on my first appearance. The
+lady's wonder was mingled with distress. Perhaps they discovered a
+remarkable resemblance between me and one who stood in the relation of
+son to Welbeck, and of brother to the lady. This youth might have
+perished on the scaffold or in war. These, no doubt, were his clothes.
+This chamber might have been reserved for him, but his death left it to
+be appropriated to another.
+
+I had hitherto been unable to guess at the reason why all this kindness
+had been lavished on me. Will not this conjecture sufficiently account
+for it? No wonder that this resemblance was enhanced by assuming his
+dress.
+
+Taking all circumstances into view, these ideas were not, perhaps,
+destitute of probability. Appearances naturally suggested them to me.
+They were, also, powerfully enforced by inclination. They threw me into
+transports of wonder and hope. When I dwelt upon the incidents of my
+past life, and traced the chain of events, from the death of my mother
+to the present moment, I almost acquiesced in the notion that some
+beneficent and ruling genius had prepared my path for me. Events which,
+when foreseen, would most ardently have been deprecated, and when they
+happened were accounted in the highest degree luckless, were now seen to
+be propitious. Hence I inferred the infatuation of despair, and the
+folly of precipitate conclusions.
+
+But what was the fate reserved for me? Perhaps Welbeck would adopt me
+for his own son. Wealth has ever been capriciously distributed. The mere
+physical relation of birth is all that entitles us to manors and
+thrones. Identity itself frequently depends upon a casual likeness or an
+old nurse's imposture. Nations have risen in arms, as in the case of the
+Stuarts, in the cause of one the genuineness of whose birth has been
+denied and can never be proved. But if the cause be trivial and
+fallacious, the effects are momentous and solid. It ascertains our
+portion of felicity and usefulness, and fixes our lot among peasants or
+princes.
+
+Something may depend upon my own deportment. Will it not behoove me to
+cultivate all my virtues and eradicate all my defects? I see that the
+abilities of this man are venerable. Perhaps he will not lightly or
+hastily decide in my favour. He will be governed by the proofs that I
+shall give of discernment and integrity. I had always been exempt from
+temptation, and was therefore undepraved; but this view of things had a
+wonderful tendency to invigorate my virtuous resolutions. All within me
+was exhilaration and joy.
+
+There was but one thing wanting to exalt me to a dizzy height and give
+me place among the stars of heaven. My resemblance to her brother had
+forcibly affected this lady; but I was not her brother. I was raised to
+a level with her and made a tenant of the same mansion. Some intercourse
+would take place between us. Time would lay level impediments and
+establish familiarity, and this intercourse might foster love and
+terminate in--_marriage_!
+
+These images were of a nature too glowing and expansive to allow me to
+be longer inactive. I sallied forth into the open air. This tumult of
+delicious thoughts in some time subsided, and gave way to images
+relative to my present situation. My curiosity was awake. As yet I had
+seen little of the city, and this opportunity for observation was not to
+be neglected. I therefore coursed through several streets, attentively
+examining the objects that successively presented themselves.
+
+At length, it occurred to me to search out the house in which I had
+lately been immured. I was not without hopes that at some future period
+I should be able to comprehend the allusions and brighten the
+obscurities that hung about the dialogue of last night.
+
+The house was easily discovered. I reconnoitred the court and gate
+through which I had passed. The mansion was of the first order in
+magnitude and decoration. This was not the bound of my present
+discovery, for I was gifted with that confidence which would make me set
+on foot inquiries in the neighbourhood. I looked around for a suitable
+medium of intelligence. The opposite and adjoining houses were small,
+and apparently occupied by persons of an indigent class. At one of these
+was a sign denoting it to be the residence of a tailor. Seated on a
+bench at the door was a young man, with coarse uncombed locks, breeches
+knee-unbuttoned, stockings ungartered, shoes slipshod and unbuckled, and
+a face unwashed, gazing stupidly from hollow eyes. His aspect was
+embellished with good nature, though indicative of ignorance.
+
+This was the only person in sight. He might be able to say something
+concerning his opulent neighbour. To him, therefore, I resolved to
+apply. I went up to him, and, pointing to the house in question, asked
+him who lived there.
+
+He answered, "Mr. Matthews."
+
+"What is his profession,--his way of life?"
+
+"A gentleman. He does nothing but walk about."
+
+"How long has he been married?"
+
+"Married! He is not married as I know on. He never has been married. He
+is a bachelor."
+
+This intelligence was unexpected. It made me pause to reflect whether I
+had not mistaken the house. This, however, seemed impossible. I renewed
+my questions.
+
+"A bachelor, say you? Are you not mistaken?"
+
+"No. It would be an odd thing if he was married. An old fellow, with one
+foot in the grave--Comical enough for him to _git_ a _vife_!"
+
+"An old man? Does he live alone? What is his family?"
+
+"No, he does not live alone. He has a niece that lives with him. She is
+married, and her husband lives there too."
+
+"What is his name?"
+
+"I don't know. I never heard it as I know on."
+
+"What is his trade?"
+
+"He's a merchant; he keeps a store somewhere or other; but I don't know
+where."
+
+"How long has he been married?"
+
+"About two years. They lost a child lately. The young woman was in a
+huge taking about it. They say she was quite crazy some days for the
+death of the child; and she is not quite out of _the dumps_ yet.
+To-be-sure, the child was a sweet little thing; but they need not make
+such a rout about it. I'll war'n' they'll have enough of them before
+they die."
+
+"What is the character of the young man? Where was he born and educated?
+Has he parents or brothers?"
+
+My companion was incapable of answering these questions, and I left him
+with little essential addition to the knowledge I already possessed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+After viewing various parts of the city, intruding into churches, and
+diving into alleys, I returned. The rest of the day I spent chiefly in
+my chamber, reflecting on my new condition; surveying my apartment, its
+presses and closets; and conjecturing the causes of appearances.
+
+At dinner and supper I was alone. Venturing to inquire of the servant
+where his master and mistress were, I was answered that they were
+engaged. I did not question him as to the nature of their engagement,
+though it was a fertile source of curiosity.
+
+Next morning, at breakfast, I again met Welbeck and the lady. The
+incidents were nearly those of the preceding morning, if it were not
+that the lady exhibited tokens of somewhat greater uneasiness. When she
+left us, Welbeck sank into apparent meditation. I was at a loss whether
+to retire or remain where I was. At last, however, I was on the point of
+leaving the room, when he broke silence and began a conversation with
+me.
+
+He put questions to me, the obvious scope of which was to know my
+sentiments on moral topics. I had no motives to conceal my opinions, and
+therefore delivered them with frankness. At length he introduced
+allusions to my own history, and made more particular inquiries on that
+head. Here I was not equally frank; yet I did not feign any thing, but
+merely dealt in generals. I had acquired notions of propriety on this
+head, perhaps somewhat fastidious. Minute details, respecting our own
+concerns, are apt to weary all but the narrator himself. I said thus
+much, and the truth of my remark was eagerly assented to.
+
+With some marks of hesitation and after various preliminaries, my
+companion hinted that my own interest, as well as his, enjoined upon me
+silence to all but himself, on the subject of my birth and early
+adventures. It was not likely that, while in his service, my circle of
+acquaintance would be large or my intercourse with the world frequent;
+but in my communication with others he requested me to speak rather of
+others than of myself. This request, he said, might appear singular to
+me, but he had his reasons for making it, which it was not necessary, at
+present, to disclose, though, when I should know them, I should readily
+acknowledge their validity.
+
+I scarcely knew what answer to make. I was willing to oblige him. I was
+far from expecting that any exigence would occur, making disclosure my
+duty. The employment was productive of pain more than of pleasure, and
+the curiosity that would uselessly seek a knowledge of my past life was
+no less impertinent than the loquacity that would uselessly communicate
+that knowledge. I readily promised, therefore, to adhere to his advice.
+
+This assurance afforded him evident satisfaction; yet it did not seem to
+amount to quite as much as he wished. He repeated, in stronger terms,
+the necessity there was for caution. He was far from suspecting me to
+possess an impertinent and talkative disposition, or that, in my
+eagerness to expatiate on my own concerns, I should overstep the limits
+of politeness. But this was not enough. I was to govern myself by a
+persuasion that the interests of my friend and myself would be
+materially affected by my conduct.
+
+Perhaps I ought to have allowed these insinuations to breed suspicion in
+my mind; but, conscious as I was of the benefits which I had received
+from this man; prone, from my inexperience, to rely upon professions and
+confide in appearances; and unaware that I could be placed in any
+condition in which mere silence respecting myself could be injurious or
+criminal, I made no scruple to promise compliance with his wishes. Nay,
+I went further than this; I desired to be accurately informed as to what
+it was proper to conceal. He answered that my silence might extend to
+every thing anterior to my arrival in the city and my being incorporated
+with his family. Here our conversation ended, and I retired to ruminate
+on what had passed.
+
+I derived little satisfaction from my reflections. I began now to
+perceive inconveniences that might arise from this precipitate promise.
+Whatever should happen in consequence of my being immured in the
+chamber, and of the loss of my clothes and of the portrait of my friend,
+I had bound myself to silence. These inquietudes, however, were
+transient. I trusted that these events would operate auspiciously; but
+my curiosity was now awakened as to the motives which _Welbeck_ could
+have for exacting from me this concealment. To act under the guidance of
+another, and to wander in the dark, ignorant whither my path tended and
+what effects might flow from my agency, was a new and irksome situation.
+
+From these thoughts I was recalled by a message from Welbeck. He gave me
+a folded paper, which he requested me to carry to No.--South Fourth
+Street. "Inquire," said he, "for Mrs. Wentworth, in order merely to
+ascertain the house, for you need not ask to see her; merely give the
+letter to the servant and retire. Excuse me for imposing this service
+upon you. It is of too great moment to be trusted to a common messenger;
+I usually perform it myself, but am at present otherwise engaged."
+
+I took the letter and set out to deliver it. This was a trifling
+circumstance, yet my mind was full of reflections on the consequences
+that might flow from it. I remembered the directions that were given,
+but construed them in a manner different, perhaps, from Welbeck's
+expectations or wishes. He had charged me to leave the billet with the
+servant who happened to answer my summons; but had he not said that the
+message was important, insomuch that it could not be intrusted to common
+hands? He had permitted, rather than enjoined, me to dispense with
+seeing the lady; and this permission I conceived to be dictated merely
+by regard to my convenience. It was incumbent on me, therefore, to take
+some pains to deliver the script into her own hands.
+
+I arrived at the house and knocked. A female servant appeared. "Her
+mistress was up-stairs; she would tell her if I wished to see her," and
+meanwhile invited me to enter the parlour; I did so; and the girl
+retired to inform her mistress that one waited for her. I ought to
+mention that my departure from the directions which I had received was,
+in some degree, owing to an inquisitive temper; I was eager after
+knowledge, and was disposed to profit by every opportunity to survey the
+interior of dwellings and converse with their inhabitants.
+
+I scanned the walls, the furniture, the pictures. Over the fireplace was
+a portrait in oil of a female. She was elderly and matron-like. Perhaps
+she was the mistress of this habitation, and the person to whom I should
+immediately be introduced. Was it a casual suggestion, or was there an
+actual resemblance between the strokes of the pencil which executed this
+portrait and that of Clavering? However that be, the sight of this
+picture revived the memory of my friend and called up a fugitive
+suspicion that this was the production of his skill.
+
+I was busily revolving this idea when the lady herself entered. It was
+the same whose portrait I had been examining. She fixed scrutinizing and
+powerful eyes upon me. She looked at the superscription of the letter
+which I presented, and immediately resumed her examination of me. I was
+somewhat abashed by the closeness of her observation, and gave tokens of
+this state of mind which did not pass unobserved. They seemed instantly
+to remind her that she behaved with too little regard to civility. She
+recovered herself and began to peruse the letter. Having done this, her
+attention was once more fixed upon me. She was evidently desirous of
+entering into some conversation, but seemed at a loss in what manner to
+begin. This situation was new to me and was productive of no small
+embarrassment. I was preparing to take my leave when she spoke, though
+not without considerable hesitation:--
+
+"This letter is from Mr. Welbeck--you are his friend--I
+presume--perhaps--a relation?"
+
+I was conscious that I had no claim to either of these titles, and that
+I was no more than his servant. My pride would not allow me to
+acknowledge this, and I merely said, "I live with him at present,
+madam."
+
+I imagined that this answer did not perfectly satisfy her; yet she
+received it with a certain air of acquiescence. She was silent for a few
+minutes, and then, rising, said, "Excuse me, sir, for a few minutes. I
+will write a few words to Mr. Welbeck." So saying, she withdrew.
+
+I returned to the contemplation of the picture. From this, however, my
+attention was quickly diverted by a paper that lay on the mantel. A
+single glance was sufficient to put my blood into motion. I started and
+laid my hand upon the well-known packet. It was that which enclosed the
+portrait of Clavering!
+
+I unfolded and examined it with eagerness. By what miracle came it
+hither? It was found, together with my bundle, two nights before. I had
+despaired of ever seeing it again, and yet here was the same portrait
+enclosed in the selfsame paper! I have forborne to dwell upon the
+regret, amounting to grief, with which I was affected in consequence of
+the loss of this precious relic. My joy on thus speedily and
+unexpectedly regaining it is not easily described.
+
+For a time I did not reflect that to hold it thus in my hand was not
+sufficient to entitle me to repossession. I must acquaint this lady with
+the history of this picture, and convince her of my ownership. But how
+was this to be done? Was she connected in any way, by friendship or by
+consanguinity, with that unfortunate youth? If she were, some
+information as to his destiny would be anxiously sought. I did not, just
+then, perceive any impropriety in imparting it. If it came into her
+hands by accident, still, it will be necessary to relate the mode in
+which it was lost in order to prove my title to it.
+
+I now heard her descending footsteps, and hastily replaced the picture
+on the mantel. She entered, and, presenting me a letter, desired me to
+deliver it to Mr. Welbeck. I had no pretext for deferring my departure,
+but was unwilling to go without obtaining possession of the portrait. An
+interval of silence and irresolution succeeded. I cast significant
+glances at the spot where it lay, and at length mustered up my strength
+of mind, and, pointing to the paper,--"Madam," said I, "_there_ is
+something which I recognise to be mine: I know not how it came into your
+possession, but so lately as the day before yesterday it was in mine. I
+lost it by a strange accident, and, as I deem it of inestimable value, I
+hope you will have no objection to restore it."
+
+During this speech the lady's countenance exhibited marks of the utmost
+perturbation. "Your picture!" she exclaimed; "you lost it! How? Where?
+Did you know that person? What has become of him?"
+
+"I knew him well," said I. "That picture was executed by himself. He
+gave it to me with his own hands; and, till the moment I unfortunately
+lost it, it was my dear and perpetual companion."
+
+"Good heaven!" she exclaimed, with increasing vehemence; "where did you
+meet with him? What has become of him? Is he dead, or alive?"
+
+These appearances sufficiently showed me that Clavering and this lady
+were connected by some ties of tenderness. I answered that he was dead;
+that my mother and myself were his attendants and nurses, and that this
+portrait was his legacy to me.
+
+This intelligence melted her into tears, and it was some time before she
+recovered strength enough to resume the conversation. She then inquired,
+"When and where was it that he died? How did you lose this portrait? It
+was found wrapped in some coarse clothes, lying in a stall in the
+market-house, on Saturday evening. Two negro women, servants of one of
+my friends, strolling through the market, found it and brought it to
+their mistress, who, recognising the portrait, sent it to me. To whom
+did that bundle belong? Was it yours?"
+
+These questions reminded me of the painful predicament in which I now
+stood. I had promised Welbeck to conceal from every one my former
+condition; but to explain in what manner this bundle was lost, and how
+my intercourse with Clavering had taken place, was to violate this
+promise. It was possible, perhaps, to escape the confession of the truth
+by equivocation. Falsehoods were easily invented, and might lead her far
+away from my true condition; but I was wholly unused to equivocation.
+Never yet had a lie polluted my lips. I was not weak enough to be
+ashamed of my origin. This lady had an interest in the fate of
+Clavering, and might justly claim all the information which I was able
+to impart. Yet to forget the compact which I had so lately made, and an
+adherence to which might possibly be in the highest degree beneficial to
+me and to Welbeck; I was willing to adhere to it, provided falsehood
+could be avoided.
+
+These thoughts rendered me silent. The pain of my embarrassment amounted
+almost to agony. I felt the keenest regret at my own precipitation in
+claiming the picture. Its value to me was altogether imaginary. The
+affection which this lady had borne the original, whatever was the
+source of that affection, would prompt her to cherish the copy, and,
+however precious it was in my eyes, I should cheerfully resign it to
+her.
+
+In the confusion of my thoughts an expedient suggested itself
+sufficiently inartificial and bold. "It is true, madam, what I have
+said. I saw him breathe his last. This is his only legacy. If you wish
+it I willingly resign it; but this is all that I can now disclose. I am
+placed in circumstances which render it improper to say more."
+
+These words were uttered not very distinctly, and the lady's vehemence
+hindered her from noticing them. She again repeated her interrogations,
+to which I returned the same answer.
+
+At first she expressed the utmost surprise at my conduct. From this she
+descended to some degree of asperity. She made rapid allusions to the
+history of Clavering. He was the son of the gentleman who owned the
+house in which Welbeck resided. He was the object of immeasurable
+fondness and indulgence. He had sought permission to travel, and, this
+being refused by the absurd timidity of his parents, he had twice been
+frustrated in attempting to embark for Europe clandestinely. They
+ascribed his disappearance to a third and successful attempt of this
+kind, and had exercised anxious and unwearied diligence in endeavouring
+to trace his footsteps. All their efforts had failed. One motive for
+their returning to Europe was the hope of discovering some traces of
+him, as they entertained no doubt of his having crossed the ocean. The
+vehemence of Mrs. Wentworth's curiosity as to those particulars of his
+life and death may be easily conceived. My refusal only heightened this
+passion.
+
+Finding me refractory to all her efforts, she at length dismissed me in
+anger.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+This extraordinary interview was now past. Pleasure as well as pain
+attended my reflections on it. I adhered to the promise I had
+improvidently given to Welbeck, but had excited displeasure, and perhaps
+suspicion, in the lady. She would find it hard to account for my
+silence. She would probably impute it to perverseness, or imagine it to
+flow from some incident connected with the death of Clavering,
+calculated to give a new edge to her curiosity.
+
+It was plain that some connection subsisted between her and Welbeck.
+Would she drop the subject at the point which it had now attained? Would
+she cease to exert herself to extract from me the desired information,
+or would she not rather make Welbeck a party in the cause, and prejudice
+my new friend against me? This was an evil proper, by all lawful means,
+to avoid. I knew of no other expedient than to confess to him the truth
+with regard to Clavering, and explain to him the dilemma in which my
+adherence to my promise had involved me.
+
+I found him on my return home, and delivered him the letter with which I
+was charged. At the sight of it, surprise, mingled with some uneasiness,
+appeared in his looks. "What!" said he, in a tone of disappointment,
+"you then saw the lady?"
+
+I now remembered his directions to leave my message at the door, and
+apologized for my neglecting them by telling my reasons. His chagrin
+vanished, but not without an apparent effort, and he said that all was
+well; the affair was of no moment.
+
+After a pause of preparation, I entreated his attention to something
+which I had to relate. I then detailed the history of Clavering and of
+my late embarrassments. As I went on, his countenance betokened
+increasing solicitude. His emotion was particularly strong when I came
+to the interrogatories of Mrs. Wentworth in relation to Clavering; but
+this emotion gave way to profound surprise when I related the manner in
+which I had eluded her inquiries. I concluded with observing that, when
+I promised forbearance on the subject of my own adventures, I had not
+foreseen any exigence which would make an adherence to my promise
+difficult or inconvenient; that, if his interest was promoted by my
+silence, I was still willing to maintain it, and requested his
+directions how to conduct myself on this occasion.
+
+He appeared to ponder deeply and with much perplexity on what I had
+said. When he spoke there was hesitation in his manner and circuity in
+his expressions, that proved him to have something in his thoughts which
+he knew not how to communicate. He frequently paused; but my answers and
+remarks, occasionally given, appeared to deter him from the revelation
+of his purpose. Our discourse ended, for the present, by his desiring me
+to persist in my present plan; I should suffer no inconveniences from
+it, since it would be my own fault if an interview again took place
+between the lady and me; meanwhile he should see her and effectually
+silence her inquiries.
+
+I ruminated not superficially or briefly on this dialogue. By what means
+would he silence her inquiries? He surely meant not to mislead her by
+fallacious representations. Some inquietude now crept into my thoughts.
+I began to form conjectures as to the nature of the scheme to which my
+suppression of the truth was to be thus made subservient. It seemed as
+if I were walking in the dark and might rush into snares or drop into
+pits before I was aware of my danger. Each moment accumulated my doubts,
+and I cherished a secret foreboding that the event would prove my new
+situation to be far less fortunate than I had, at first, fondly
+believed. The question now occurred, with painful repetition, who and
+what was Welbeck? What was his relation to this foreign lady? What was
+the service for which I was to be employed?
+
+I could not be contented without a solution of these mysteries. Why
+should I not lay my soul open before my new friend? Considering my
+situation, would he regard my fears and my surmises as criminal? I felt
+that they originated in laudable habits and views. My peace of mind
+depended on the favourable verdict which conscience should pass on my
+proceedings. I saw the emptiness of fame and luxury, when put in the
+balance against the recompense of virtue. Never would I purchase the
+blandishments of adulation and the glare of opulence at the price of my
+honesty.
+
+Amidst these reflections the dinner-hour arrived. The lady and Welbeck
+were present. A new train of sentiments now occupied my mind. I regarded
+them both with inquisitive eyes. I cannot well account for the
+revolution which had taken place in my mind. Perhaps it was a proof of
+the capriciousness of my temper, or it was merely the fruit of my
+profound ignorance of life and manners. Whencesoever it arose, certain
+it is that I contemplated the scene before me with altered eyes. Its
+order and pomp was no longer the parent of tranquillity and awe. My wild
+reveries of inheriting this splendour and appropriating the affections
+of this nymph, I now regarded as lunatic hope and childish folly.
+Education and nature had qualified me for a different scene. This might
+be the mask of misery and the structure of vice.
+
+My companions as well as myself were silent during the meal. The lady
+retired as soon as it was finished. My inexplicable melancholy
+increased. It did not pass unnoticed by Welbeck, who inquired, with an
+air of kindness, into the cause of my visible dejection. I am almost
+ashamed to relate to what extremes my folly transported me. Instead of
+answering him, I was weak enough to shed tears.
+
+This excited afresh his surprise and his sympathy. He renewed his
+inquiries; my heart was full, but how to disburden it I knew not. At
+length, with some difficulty, I expressed my wishes to leave his house
+and return into the country.
+
+What, he asked, had occurred to suggest this new plan? What motive could
+incite me to bury myself in rustic obscurity? How did I purpose to
+dispose of myself? Had some new friend sprung up more able or more
+willing to benefit me than he had been?
+
+"No," I answered, "I have no relation who would own me, or friend who
+would protect. If I went into the country it would be to the toilsome
+occupations of a day-labourer; but even that was better than my present
+situation."
+
+This opinion, he observed, must be newly formed. What was there irksome
+or offensive in my present mode of life?
+
+That this man condescended to expostulate with me; to dissuade me from
+my new plan; and to enumerate the benefits which he was willing to
+confer, penetrated my heart with gratitude. I could not but acknowledge
+that leisure and literature, copious and elegant accommodation, were
+valuable for their own sake; that all the delights of sensation and
+refinements of intelligence were comprised within my present sphere, and
+would be nearly wanting in that to which I was going. I felt temporary
+compunction for my folly, and determined to adopt a different
+deportment. I could not prevail upon myself to unfold the true cause of
+my dejection, and permitted him therefore to ascribe it to a kind of
+homesickness; to inexperience; and to that ignorance which, on being
+ushered into a new scene, is oppressed with a sensation of forlornness.
+He remarked that these chimeras would vanish before the influence of
+time, and company, and occupation. On the next week he would furnish me
+with employment; meanwhile he would introduce me into company, where
+intelligence and vivacity would combine to dispel my glooms.
+
+As soon as we separated, my disquietudes returned. I contended with them
+in vain, and finally resolved to abandon my present situation. When and
+how this purpose was to be effected I knew not. That was to be the theme
+of future deliberation.
+
+Evening having arrived, Welbeck proposed to me to accompany me on a
+visit to one of his friends. I cheerfully accepted the invitation, and
+went with him to your friend Mr. Wortley's. A numerous party was
+assembled, chiefly of the female sex. I was introduced by Welbeck by
+the title of _a young friend of his_. Notwithstanding my embarrassment,
+I did not fail to attend to what passed on this occasion. I remarked
+that the utmost deference was paid to my companion, on whom his entrance
+into this company appeared to operate like magic. His eyes sparkled; his
+features expanded into a benign serenity; and his wonted reserve gave
+place to a torrent-like and overflowing elocution.
+
+I marked this change in his deportment with the utmost astonishment. So
+great was it, that I could hardly persuade myself that it was the same
+person. A mind thus susceptible of new impressions must be, I conceived,
+of a wonderful texture. Nothing was further from my expectations than
+that this vivacity was mere dissimulation and would take its leave of
+him when he left the company; yet this I found to be the case. The door
+was no sooner closed after him than his accustomed solemnity returned.
+He spake little, and that little was delivered with emphatical and
+monosyllabic brevity.
+
+We returned home at a late hour, and I immediately retired to my
+chamber, not so much from the desire of repose as in order to enjoy and
+pursue my own reflections without interruption.
+
+The condition of my mind was considerably remote from happiness. I was
+placed in a scene that furnished fuel to my curiosity. This passion is a
+source of pleasure, provided its gratification be practicable. I had no
+reason, in my present circumstances, to despair of knowledge; yet
+suspicion and anxiety beset me. I thought upon the delay and toil which
+the removal of my ignorance would cost, and reaped only pain and fear
+from the reflection.
+
+The air was remarkably sultry. Lifted sashes and lofty ceilings were
+insufficient to attemper it. The perturbation of my thoughts affected my
+body, and the heat which oppressed me was aggravated, by my
+restlessness, almost into fever. Some hours were thus painfully past,
+when I recollected that the bath, erected in the court below, contained
+a sufficient antidote to the scorching influence of the atmosphere.
+
+I rose, and descended the stairs softly, that I might not alarm Welbeck
+and the lady, who occupied the two rooms on the second floor. I
+proceeded to the bath, and, filling the reservoir with water, speedily
+dissipated the heat that incommoded me. Of all species of sensual
+gratification, that was the most delicious; and I continued for a long
+time laving my limbs and moistening my hair. In the midst of this
+amusement, I noticed the approach of day, and immediately saw the
+propriety of returning to my chamber. I returned with the same caution
+which I had used in descending; my feet were bare, so that it was easy
+to proceed unattended by the smallest signal of my progress.
+
+I had reached the carpeted staircase, and was slowly ascending, when I
+heard, within the chamber that was occupied by the lady, a noise, as of
+some one moving. Though not conscious of having acted improperly, yet I
+felt reluctance to be seen. There was no reason to suppose that this
+sound was connected with the detection of me in this situation; yet I
+acted as if this reason existed, and made haste to pass the door and
+gain the second flight of steps.
+
+I was unable to accomplish my design, when the chamber door slowly
+opened, and Welbeck, with a light in his hand, came out. I was abashed
+and disconcerted at this interview. He started at seeing me; but,
+discovering in an instant who it was, his face assumed an expression in
+which shame and anger were powerfully blended. He seemed on the point of
+opening his mouth to rebuke me; but, suddenly checking himself, he said,
+in a tone of mildness, "How is this? Whence come you?"
+
+His emotion seemed to communicate itself, with an electrical rapidity,
+to my heart. My tongue faltered while I made some answer. I said, "I had
+been seeking relief from the heat of the weather, in the bath." He heard
+my explanation in silence; and, after a moment's pause, passed into his
+own room, and shut himself in. I hastened to my chamber.
+
+A different observer might have found in these circumstances no food for
+his suspicion or his wonder. To me, however, they suggested vague and
+tumultuous ideas.
+
+As I strode across the room I repeated, "This woman is his daughter.
+What proof have I of that? He once asserted it; and has frequently
+uttered allusions and hints from which no other inference could be
+drawn. The chamber from which he came, in an hour devoted to sleep, was
+hers. For what end could a visit like this be paid? A parent may visit
+his child at all seasons, without a crime. On seeing me, methought his
+features indicated more than surprise. A keen interpreter would be apt
+to suspect a consciousness of wrong. What if this woman be not his
+child! How shall their relationship be ascertained?"
+
+I was summoned at the customary hour to breakfast. My mind was full of
+ideas connected with this incident. I was not endowed with sufficient
+firmness to propose the cool and systematic observation of this man's
+deportment. I felt as if the state of my mind could not but be evident
+to him; and experienced in myself all the confusion which this discovery
+was calculated to produce in him. I would have willingly excused myself
+from meeting him; but that was impossible.
+
+At breakfast, after the usual salutations, nothing was said. For a time
+I scarcely lifted my eyes from the table. Stealing a glance at Welbeck,
+I discovered in his features nothing but his wonted gravity. He appeared
+occupied with thoughts that had no relation to last night's adventure.
+This encouraged me; and I gradually recovered my composure. Their
+inattention to me allowed me occasionally to throw scrutinizing and
+comparing glances at the face of each.
+
+The relationship of parent and child is commonly discovered in the
+visage; but the child may resemble either of its parents, yet have no
+feature in common with both. Here outlines, surfaces, and hues were in
+absolute contrariety. That kindred subsisted between them was possible,
+notwithstanding this dissimilitude; but this circumstance contributed to
+envenom my suspicions.
+
+Breakfast being finished, Welbeck cast an eye of invitation to the
+piano-forte. The lady rose to comply with his request. My eye chanced
+to be, at that moment, fixed on her. In stepping to the instrument, some
+motion or appearance awakened a thought in my mind which affected my
+feelings like the shock of an earthquake.
+
+I have too slight acquaintance with the history of the passions to truly
+explain the emotion which now throbbed in my veins. I had been a
+stranger to what is called love. From subsequent reflection, I have
+contracted a suspicion that the sentiment with which I regarded this
+lady was not untinctured from this source, and that hence arose the
+turbulence of my feelings on observing what I construed into marks of
+pregnancy. The evidence afforded me was slight; yet it exercised an
+absolute sway over my belief.
+
+It was well that this suspicion had not been sooner excited. Now
+civility did not require my stay in the apartment, and nothing but
+flight could conceal the state of my mind. I hastened, therefore, to a
+distance, and shrouded myself in the friendly secrecy of my own chamber.
+
+The constitution of my mind is doubtless singular and perverse; yet that
+opinion, perhaps, is the fruit of my ignorance. It may by no means be
+uncommon for men to _fashion_ their conclusions in opposition to
+evidence and _probability_, and so as to feed their malice and subvert
+their happiness. Thus it was, in an eminent degree, in my case. The
+simple fact was connected, in my mind, with a train of the most hateful
+consequences. The depravity of Welbeck was inferred from it. The charms
+of this angelic woman were tarnished and withered. I had formerly
+surveyed her as a precious and perfect monument, but now it was a scene
+of ruin and blast.
+
+This had been a source of sufficient anguish; but this was not all. I
+recollected that the claims of a parent had been urged. Will you believe
+that these claims were now admitted, and that they heightened the
+iniquity of Welbeck into the blackest and most stupendous of all crimes?
+These ideas were necessarily transient. Conclusions more conformable to
+appearances succeeded. This lady might have been lately reduced to
+widowhood. The recent loss of a beloved companion would sufficiently
+account for her dejection, and make her present situation compatible
+with duty.
+
+By this new train of ideas I was somewhat comforted. I saw the folly of
+precipitate inferences and the injustice of my atrocious imputations,
+and acquired some degree of patience in my present state of uncertainty.
+My heart was lightened of its wonted burden, and I laboured to invent
+some harmless explication of the scene that I had witnessed the
+preceding night.
+
+At dinner Welbeck appeared as usual, but not the lady. I ascribed her
+absence to some casual indisposition, and ventured to inquire into the
+state of her health. My companion said she was well, but that she had
+left the city for a month or two, finding the heat of summer
+inconvenient where she was. This was no unplausible reason for
+retirement. A candid mind would have acquiesced in this representation,
+and found in it nothing inconsistent with a supposition respecting the
+cause of appearances favourable to her character; but otherwise was I
+affected. The uneasiness which had flown for a moment returned, and I
+sunk into gloomy silence.
+
+From this I was roused by my patron, who requested me to deliver a
+billet, which he put into my hand, at the counting-house of Mr.
+Thetford, and to bring him an answer. This message was speedily
+performed. I entered a large building by the river-side. A spacious
+apartment presented itself, well furnished with pipes and hogsheads. In
+one corner was a smaller room, in which a gentleman was busy at writing.
+I advanced to the door of the room, but was there met by a young person,
+who received my paper and delivered it to him within. I stood still at
+the door; but was near enough to overhear what would pass between them.
+
+The letter was laid upon the desk, and presently he that sat at it
+lifted his eyes and glanced at the superscription. He scarcely spoke
+above a whisper; but his words, nevertheless, were clearly
+distinguishable. I did not call to mind the sound of his voice, but his
+words called up a train of recollections.
+
+"Lo!" said he, carelessly, "this from the _Nabob_!"
+
+An incident so slight as this was sufficient to open a spacious scene
+of meditation. This little word, half whispered in a thoughtless mood,
+was a key to unlock an extensive cabinet of secrets. Thetford was
+probably indifferent whether his exclamation were overheard. Little did
+he think on the inferences which would be built upon it.
+
+"The Nabob!" By this appellation had some one been denoted in the
+chamber dialogue of which I had been an unsuspected auditor. The man who
+pretended poverty, and yet gave proofs of inordinate wealth; whom it was
+pardonable to defraud of thirty thousand dollars; first, because the
+loss of that sum would be trivial to one opulent as he; and, secondly,
+because he was imagined to have acquired this opulence by other than
+honest methods. Instead of forthwith returning home, I wandered into the
+fields, to indulge myself in the new thoughts which were produced by
+this occurrence.
+
+I entertained no doubt that the person alluded to was my patron. No new
+light was thrown upon his character; unless something were deducible
+from the charge vaguely made, that his wealth was the fruit of illicit
+practices. He was opulent, and the sources of his wealth were unknown,
+if not to the rest of the community, at least to Thetford. But here had
+a plot been laid. The fortune of Thetford's brother was to rise from the
+success of artifices of which the credulity of Welbeck was to be the
+victim. To detect and to counterwork this plot was obviously my duty. My
+interference might now indeed be too late to be useful; but this was at
+least to be ascertained by experiment.
+
+How should my intention be effected? I had hitherto concealed from
+Welbeck my adventures at Thetford's house. These it was now necessary to
+disclose, and to mention the recent occurrence. My deductions, in
+consequence of my ignorance, might be erroneous; but of their truth his
+knowledge of his own affairs would enable him to judge. It was possible
+that Thetford and he whose chamber conversation I had overheard were
+different persons. I endeavoured in vain to ascertain their identity by
+a comparison of their voices. The words lately heard, my remembrance
+did not enable me certainly to pronounce to be uttered by the same
+organs.
+
+This uncertainty was of little moment. It sufficed that Welbeck was
+designated by this appellation, and that therefore he was proved to be
+the subject of some fraudulent proceeding. The information that I
+possessed it was my duty to communicate as expeditiously as possible. I
+was resolved to employ the first opportunity that offered for this end.
+
+My meditations had been ardently pursued, and, when I recalled my
+attention, I found myself bewildered among fields and fences. It was
+late before I extricated myself from unknown paths, and reached home.
+
+I entered the parlour; but Welbeck was not there. A table, with
+tea-equipage for one person, was set; from which I inferred that Welbeck
+was engaged abroad. This belief was confirmed by the report of the
+servant. He could not inform me where his master was, but merely that he
+should not take tea at home. This incident was a source of vexation and
+impatience. I knew not but that delay would be of the utmost moment to
+the safety of my friend. Wholly unacquainted as I was with the nature of
+his contracts with Thetford, I could not decide whether a single hour
+would not avail to obviate the evils that threatened him. Had I known
+whither to trace his footsteps, I should certainly have sought an
+immediate interview; but, as it was, I was obliged to wait, with what
+patience I could collect, for his return to his own house.
+
+I waited hour after hour in vain. The sun declined, and the shades of
+evening descended; but Welbeck was still at a distance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Welbeck did not return, though hour succeeded hour till the clock struck
+ten. I inquired of the servants, who informed me that their master was
+not accustomed to stay out so late. I seated myself at a table, in a
+parlour, on which there stood a light, and listened for the signal of
+his coming, either by the sound of steps on the pavement without or by a
+peal from the bell. The silence was uninterrupted and profound, and each
+minute added to my sum of impatience and anxiety.
+
+To relieve myself from the heat of the weather, which was aggravated by
+the condition of my thoughts, as well as to beguile this tormenting
+interval, it occurred to me to betake myself to the bath. I left the
+candle where it stood, and imagined that even in the bath I should hear
+the sound of the bell which would be rung upon his arrival at the door.
+
+No such signal occurred, and, after taking this refreshment, I prepared
+to return to my post. The parlour was still unoccupied, but this was not
+all; the candle I had left upon the table was gone. This was an
+inexplicable circumstance. On my promise to wait for their master, the
+servants had retired to bed. No signal of any one's entrance had been
+given. The street door was locked, and the key hung at its customary
+place upon the wall. What was I to think? It was obvious to suppose that
+the candle had been removed by a domestic; but their footsteps could not
+be traced, and I was not sufficiently acquainted with the house to find
+the way, especially immersed in darkness, to their chamber. One measure,
+however, it was evidently proper to take, which was to supply myself,
+anew, with a light. This was instantly performed; but what was next to
+be done?
+
+I was weary of the perplexities in which I was embroiled. I saw no
+avenue to escape from them but that which led me to the bosom of nature
+and to my ancient occupations. For a moment I was tempted to resume my
+rustic garb, and, on that very hour, to desert this habitation. One
+thing only detained me; the desire to apprize my patron of the treachery
+of Thetford. For this end I was anxious to obtain an interview; but now
+I reflected that this information could by other means be imparted. Was
+it not sufficient to write him briefly these particulars, and leave him
+to profit by the knowledge? Thus I might, likewise, acquaint him with my
+motives for thus abruptly and unseasonably deserting his service.
+
+To the execution of this scheme pen and paper were necessary. The
+business of writing was performed in the chamber on the third story. I
+had been hitherto denied access to this room. In it was a show of papers
+and books. Here it was that the task, for which I had been retained, was
+to be performed; but I was to enter it and leave it only in company with
+Welbeck. For what reasons, I asked, was this procedure to be adopted?
+
+The influence of prohibitions and an appearance of disguise in awakening
+curiosity is well known. My mind fastened upon the idea of this room
+with an unusual degree of intenseness. I had seen it but for a moment.
+Many of Welbeck's hours were spent in it. It was not to be inferred that
+they were consumed in idleness: what then was the nature of his
+employment over which a veil of such impenetrable secrecy was cast?
+
+Will you wonder that the design of entering this recess was insensibly
+formed? Possibly it was locked, but its accessibleness was likewise
+possible. I meant not the commission of any crime. My principal purpose
+was to procure the implements of writing, which were elsewhere not to be
+found. I should neither unseal papers nor open drawers. I would merely
+take a survey of the volumes and attend to the objects that
+spontaneously presented themselves to my view. In this there surely was
+nothing criminal or blameworthy. Meanwhile I was not unmindful of the
+sudden disappearance of the candle. This incident filled my bosom with
+the inquietudes of fear and the perturbations of wonder.
+
+Once more I paused to catch any sound that might arise from without. All
+was still. I seized the candle and prepared to mount the stairs. I had
+not reached the first landing when I called to mind my midnight meeting
+with Welbeck at the door of his daughter's chamber. The chamber was now
+desolate; perhaps it was accessible; if so, no injury was done by
+entering it. My curiosity was strong, but it pictured to itself no
+precise object. Three steps would bear me to the door. The trial,
+whether it was fastened, might be made in a moment; and I readily
+imagined that something might be found within to reward the trouble of
+examination. The door yielded to my hand, and I entered.
+
+No remarkable object was discoverable. The apartment was supplied with
+the usual furniture. I bent my steps towards a table over which a mirror
+was suspended. My glances, which roved with swiftness from one object to
+another, shortly lighted on a miniature portrait that hung near. I
+scrutinized it with eagerness. It was impossible to overlook its
+resemblance to my own visage. This was so great that for a moment I
+imagined myself to have been the original from which it had been drawn.
+This flattering conception yielded place to a belief merely of
+similitude between me and the genuine original.
+
+The thoughts which this opinion was fitted to produce were suspended by
+a new object. A small volume, that had, apparently, been much used, lay
+upon the toilet. I opened it, and found it to contain some of the Dramas
+of Apostolo Zeno. I turned over the leaves; a written paper saluted my
+sight. A single glance informed me that it was English. For the present
+I was insensible to all motives that would command me to forbear. I
+seized the paper with an intention to peruse it.
+
+At that moment a stunning report was heard. It was loud enough to shake
+the walls of the apartment, and abrupt enough to throw me into tremors.
+I dropped the book and yielded for a moment to confusion and surprise.
+From what quarter it came, I was unable accurately to determine; but
+there could be no doubt, from its loudness, that it was near, and even
+in the house. It was no less manifest that the sound arose from the
+discharge of a pistol. Some hand must have drawn the trigger. I
+recollected the disappearance of the candle from the room below.
+Instantly a supposition darted into my mind which made my hair rise and
+my teeth chatter.
+
+"This," I said, "is the deed of Welbeck. He entered while I was absent
+from the room; he hied to his chamber; and, prompted by some unknown
+instigation, has inflicted on himself death!" This idea had a tendency
+to palsy my limbs and my thoughts. Some time passed in painful and
+tumultuous fluctuation. My aversion to this catastrophe, rather than a
+belief of being, by that means, able to prevent or repair the evil,
+induced me to attempt to enter his chamber. It was possible that my
+conjectures were erroneous.
+
+The door of his room was locked. I knocked; I demanded entrance in a low
+voice; I put my eye and my ear to the keyhole and the crevices; nothing
+could be heard or seen. It was unavoidable to conclude that no one was
+within; yet the effluvia of gunpowder was perceptible.
+
+Perhaps the room above had been the scene of this catastrophe. I
+ascended the second flight of stairs. I approached the door. No sound
+could be caught by my most vigilant attention. I put out the light that
+I carried, and was then able to perceive that there was light within the
+room. I scarcely knew how to act. For some minutes I paused at the door.
+I spoke, and requested permission to enter. My words were succeeded by a
+death-like stillness. At length I ventured softly to withdraw the bolt,
+to open and to advance within the room. Nothing could exceed the horror
+of my expectation; yet I was startled by the scene that I beheld.
+
+In a chair, whose back was placed against the front wall, sat Welbeck.
+My entrance alarmed him not, nor roused him from the stupor into which
+he was plunged. He rested his hands upon his knees, and his eyes were
+riveted to something that lay, at the distance of a few feet before
+him, on the floor. A second glance was sufficient to inform me of what
+nature this object was. It was the body of a man, bleeding, ghastly, and
+still exhibiting the marks of convulsion and agony!
+
+I shall omit to describe the shock which a spectacle like this
+communicated to my unpractised senses. I was nearly as panic-struck and
+powerless as Welbeck himself. I gazed, without power of speech, at one
+time, at Welbeck; then I fixed terrified eyes on the distorted features
+of the dead. At length, Welbeck, recovering from his reverie, looked up,
+as if to see who it was that had entered. No surprise, no alarm, was
+betrayed by him on seeing me. He manifested no desire or intention to
+interrupt the fearful silence.
+
+My thoughts wandered in confusion and terror. The first impulse was to
+fly from the scene; but I could not be long insensible to the exigences
+of the moment. I saw that affairs must not be suffered to remain in
+their present situation. The insensibility or despair of Welbeck
+required consolation and succour. How to communicate my thoughts, or
+offer my assistance, I knew not. What led to this murderous catastrophe;
+who it was whose breathless corpse was before me; what concern Welbeck
+had in producing his death; were as yet unknown.
+
+At length he rose from his seat, and strode at first with faltering, and
+then with more steadfast steps, across the floor. This motion seemed to
+put him in possession of himself. He seemed now, for the first time, to
+recognise my presence. He turned to me, and said, in a tone of
+severity,--
+
+"How now? What brings you here?"
+
+This rebuke was unexpected. I stammered out, in reply, that the report
+of the pistol had alarmed me, and that I came to discover the cause of
+it.
+
+He noticed not my answer, but resumed his perturbed steps, and his
+anxious but abstracted looks. Suddenly he checked himself, and, glancing
+a furious eye at the corpse, he muttered, "Yes, the die is cast. This
+worthless and miserable scene shall last no longer. I will at once get
+rid of life and all its humiliations."
+
+Here succeeded a new pause. The course of his thoughts seemed now to
+become once more tranquil. Sadness, rather than fury, overspread his
+features; and his accent, when he spoke to me, was not faltering, but
+solemn.
+
+"Mervyn," said he, "you comprehend not this scene. Your youth and
+inexperience make you a stranger to a deceitful and flagitious world.
+You know me not. It is time that this ignorance should vanish. The
+knowledge of me and of my actions may be of use to you. It may teach you
+to avoid the shoals on which my virtue and my peace have been wrecked;
+but to the rest of mankind it can be of no use. The ruin of my fame is,
+perhaps, irretrievable; but the height of my iniquity need not be known.
+I perceive in you a rectitude and firmness worthy to be trusted; promise
+me, therefore, that not a syllable of what I tell you shall ever pass
+your lips."
+
+I had lately experienced the inconvenience of a promise; but I was now
+confused, embarrassed, ardently inquisitive as to the nature of this
+scene, and unapprized of the motives that might afterwards occur,
+persuading or compelling me to disclosure. The promise which he exacted
+was given. He resumed:--
+
+"I have detained you in my service, partly for your own benefit, but
+chiefly for mine. I intended to inflict upon you injury and to do you
+good. Neither of these ends can I now accomplish, unless the lessons
+which my example may inculcate shall inspire you with fortitude and arm
+you with caution.
+
+"What it was that made me thus, I know not. I am not destitute of
+understanding. My thirst of knowledge, though irregular, is ardent. I
+can talk and can feel as virtue and justice prescribe; yet the tenor of
+my actions has been uniform. One tissue of iniquity and folly has been
+my life; while my thoughts have been familiar with enlightened and
+disinterested principles. Scorn and detestation I have heaped upon
+myself. Yesterday is remembered with remorse. To-morrow is contemplated
+with anguish and fear; yet every day is productive of the same crimes
+and of the same follies.
+
+"I was left, by the insolvency of my father, (a trader of Liverpool,)
+without any means of support but such as labour should afford me.
+Whatever could generate pride, and the love of independence, was my
+portion. Whatever can incite to diligence was the growth of my
+condition; yet my indolence was a cureless disease; and there were no
+arts too sordid for me to practise.
+
+"I was content to live on the bounty of a kinsman. His family was
+numerous, and his revenue small. He forbore to upbraid me, or even to
+insinuate the propriety of providing for myself; but he empowered me to
+pursue any liberal or mechanical profession which might suit my taste. I
+was insensible to every generous motive. I laboured to forget my
+dependent and disgraceful condition, because the remembrance was a
+source of anguish, without being able to inspire me with a steady
+resolution to change it.
+
+"I contracted an acquaintance with a woman who was unchaste, perverse,
+and malignant. Me, however, she found it no difficult task to deceive.
+My uncle remonstrated against the union. He took infinite pains to
+unveil my error, and to convince me that wedlock was improper for one
+destitute, as I was, of the means of support, even if the object of my
+choice were personally unexceptionable.
+
+"His representations were listened to with anger. That he thwarted my
+will in this respect, even by affectionate expostulation, cancelled all
+that debt of gratitude which I owed to him. I rewarded him for all his
+kindness by invective and disdain, and hastened to complete my
+ill-omened marriage. I had deceived the woman's father by assertions of
+possessing secret resources. To gratify my passion, I descended to
+dissimulation and falsehood. He admitted me into his family, as the
+husband of his child; but the character of my wife and the fallacy of my
+assertions were quickly discovered. He denied me accommodation under his
+roof, and I was turned forth to the world to endure the penalty of my
+rashness and my indolence.
+
+"Temptation would have moulded me into any villanous shape. My virtuous
+theories and comprehensive erudition would not have saved me from the
+basest of crimes. Luckily for me, I was, for the present, exempted from
+temptation. I had formed an acquaintance with a young American captain.
+On being partially informed of my situation, he invited me to embark
+with him for his own country. My passage was gratuitous. I arrived, in a
+short time, at Charleston, which was the place of his abode.
+
+"He introduced me to his family, every member of which was, like
+himself, imbued with affection and benevolence. I was treated like their
+son and brother. I was hospitably entertained until I should be able to
+select some path of lucrative industry. Such was my incurable depravity,
+that I made no haste to select my pursuit. An interval of inoccupation
+succeeded, which I applied to the worst purposes.
+
+"My friend had a sister, who was married, but during the absence of her
+husband resided with her family. Hence originated our acquaintance. The
+purest of human hearts and the most vigorous understanding were hers.
+She idolized her husband, who well deserved to be the object of her
+adoration. Her affection for him, and her general principles, appeared
+to be confirmed beyond the power to be shaken. I sought her intercourse
+without illicit views; I delighted in the effusions of her candour and
+the flashes of her intelligence; I conformed, by a kind of instinctive
+hypocrisy, to her views; I spoke and felt from the influence of
+immediate and momentary conviction. She imagined she had found in me a
+friend worthy to partake in all her sympathies and forward all her
+wishes. We were mutually deceived. She was the victim of self-delusion;
+but I must charge myself with practising deceit both upon myself and
+her.
+
+"I reflect with astonishment and horror on the steps which led to her
+degradation and to my calamity. In the high career of passion all
+consequences were overlooked. She was the dupe of the most audacious
+sophistry and the grossest delusion. I was the slave of sensual impulses
+and voluntary blindness. The effect may be easily conceived. Not till
+symptoms of pregnancy began to appear were our eyes opened to the ruin
+which impended over us.
+
+"Then I began to revolve the consequences, which the mist of passion had
+hitherto concealed. I was tormented by the pangs of remorse, and pursued
+by the phantom of ingratitude. To complete my despair, this unfortunate
+lady was apprized of my marriage with another woman; a circumstance
+which I had anxiously concealed from her. She fled from her father's
+house at a time when her husband and brother were hourly expected. What
+became of her I knew not. She left behind her a letter to her father, in
+which the melancholy truth was told.
+
+"Shame and remorse had no power over my life. To elude the storm of
+invective and upbraiding, to quiet the uproar of my mind, I did not
+betake myself to voluntary death. My pusillanimity still clung to this
+wretched existence. I abruptly retired from the scene, and, repairing to
+the port, embarked in the first vessel which appeared. The ship chanced
+to belong to Wilmington, in Delaware, and here I sought out an obscure
+and cheap abode.
+
+"I possessed no means of subsistence. I was unknown to my neighbours,
+and desired to remain unknown. I was unqualified for manual labour by
+all the habits of my life; but there was no choice between penury and
+diligence,--between honest labour and criminal inactivity. I mused
+incessantly on the forlornness of my condition. Hour after hour passed,
+and the horrors of want began to encompass me. I sought with eagerness
+for an avenue by which I might escape from it. The perverseness of my
+nature led me on from one guilty thought to another. I took refuge in my
+customary sophistries, and reconciled myself at length to a scheme
+of--_forgery_!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+"Having ascertained my purpose, it was requisite to search out the means
+by which I might effect it. These were not clearly or readily suggested.
+The more I contemplated my project, the more numerous and arduous its
+difficulties appeared. I had no associates in my undertaking. A due
+regard to my safety, and the unextinguished sense of honour, deterred me
+from seeking auxiliaries and co-agents. The esteem of mankind was the
+spring of all my activity, the parent of all my virtue and all my vice.
+To preserve this, it was necessary that my guilty projects should have
+neither witness nor partaker.
+
+"I quickly discovered that to execute this scheme demanded time,
+application, and money, none of which my present situation would permit
+me to devote to it. At first it appeared that an attainable degree of
+skill and circumspection would enable me to arrive, by means of
+counterfeit bills, to the pinnacle of affluence and honour. My error was
+detected by a closer scrutiny, and I finally saw nothing in this path
+but enormous perils and insurmountable impediments.
+
+"Yet what alternative was offered me? To maintain myself by the labour
+of my hands, to perform any toilsome or prescribed task, was
+incompatible with my nature. My habits debarred me from country
+occupations. My pride regarded as vile and ignominious drudgery any
+employment which the town could afford. Meanwhile, my wants were as
+urgent as ever, and my funds were exhausted.
+
+"There are few, perhaps, whose external situation resembled mine, who
+would have found in it any thing but incitements to industry and
+invention. A thousand methods of subsistence, honest but laborious,
+were at my command, but to these I entertained an irreconcilable
+aversion. Ease and the respect attendant upon opulence I was willing to
+purchase at the price of ever-wakeful suspicion and eternal remorse;
+but, even at this price, the purchase was impossible.
+
+"The desperateness of my condition became hourly more apparent. The
+further I extended my view, the darker grew the clouds which hung over
+futurity. Anguish and infamy appeared to be the inseparable conditions
+of my existence. There was one mode of evading the evils that impended.
+To free myself from self-upbraiding and to shun the persecutions of my
+fortune was possible only by shaking off life itself.
+
+"One evening, as I traversed the bank of the creek, these dismal
+meditations were uncommonly intense. They at length terminated in a
+resolution to throw myself into the stream. The first impulse was to
+rush instantly to my death; but the remembrance of papers, lying at my
+lodgings, which might unfold more than I desired to the curiosity of
+survivors, induced me to postpone this catastrophe till the next
+morning.
+
+"My purpose being formed, I found my heart lightened of its usual
+weight. By you it will be thought strange, but it is nevertheless true,
+that I derived from this new prospect not only tranquillity but
+cheerfulness. I hastened home. As soon as I entered, my landlord
+informed me that a person had been searching for me in my absence. This
+was an unexampled incident, and foreboded me no good. I was strongly
+persuaded that my visitant had been led hither not by friendly but
+hostile purposes. This persuasion was confirmed by the description of
+the stranger's guise and demeanour given by my landlord. My fears
+instantly recognised the image of Watson, the man by whom I had been so
+eminently benefited, and whose kindness I had compensated by the ruin of
+his sister and the confusion of his family.
+
+"An interview with this man was less to be endured than to look upon the
+face of an avenging deity. I was determined to avoid this interview,
+and, for this end, to execute my fatal purpose within the hour. My
+papers were collected with a tremulous hand, and consigned to the
+flames. I then bade my landlord inform all visitants that I should not
+return till the next day, and once more hastened towards the river.
+
+"My way led past the inn where one of the stages from Baltimore was
+accustomed to stop. I was not unaware that Watson had possibly been
+brought in the coach which had recently arrived, and which now stood
+before the door of the inn. The danger of my being descried or
+encountered by him as I passed did not fail to occur. This was to be
+eluded by deviating from the main street.
+
+"Scarcely had I turned a corner for this purpose when I was accosted by
+a young man whom I knew to be an inhabitant of the town, but with whom I
+had hitherto had no intercourse but what consisted in a transient
+salutation. He apologized for the liberty of addressing me, and, at the
+same time, inquired if I understood the French language.
+
+"Being answered in the affirmative, he proceeded to tell me that in the
+stage, just arrived, had come a passenger, a youth who appeared to be
+French, who was wholly unacquainted with our language, and who had been
+seized with a violent disease.
+
+"My informant had felt compassion for the forlorn condition of the
+stranger, and had just been seeking me at my lodgings, in hope that my
+knowledge of French would enable me to converse with the sick man, and
+obtain from him a knowledge of his situation and views.
+
+"The apprehensions I had precipitately formed were thus removed, and I
+readily consented to perform this service. The youth was, indeed, in a
+deplorable condition. Besides the pains of his disease, he was
+overpowered by dejection. The innkeeper was extremely anxious for the
+removal of his guest. He was by no means willing to sustain the trouble
+and expense of a sick or a dying man, for which it was scarcely probable
+that he should ever be reimbursed. The traveller had no baggage, and his
+dress betokened the pressure of many wants.
+
+"My compassion for this stranger was powerfully awakened. I was in
+possession of a suitable apartment, for which I had no power to pay the
+rent that was accruing; but my inability in this respect was unknown,
+and I might enjoy my lodgings unmolested for some weeks. The fate of
+this youth would be speedily decided, and I should be left at liberty to
+execute my first intentions before my embarrassments should be visibly
+increased.
+
+"After a moment's pause, I conducted the stranger to my home, placed him
+in my own bed, and became his nurse. His malady was such as is known in
+the tropical islands by the name of the yellow or malignant fever, and
+the physician who was called speedily pronounced his case desperate.
+
+"It was my duty to warn him of the death that was hastening, and to
+promise the fulfilment of any of his wishes not inconsistent with my
+present situation. He received my intelligence with fortitude, and
+appeared anxious to communicate some information respecting his own
+state. His pangs and his weakness scarcely allowed him to be
+intelligible. From his feeble efforts and broken narrative I collected
+thus much concerning his family and fortune.
+
+"His father's name was Vincentio Lodi. From a merchant at Leghorn, he
+had changed himself into a planter in the island of Guadaloupe. His son
+had been sent, at an early age, for the benefits of education, to
+Europe. The young Vincentio was, at length, informed by his father,
+that, being weary of his present mode of existence, he had determined to
+sell his property and transport himself to the United States. The son
+was directed to hasten home, that he might embark, with his father, on
+this voyage.
+
+"The summons was cheerfully obeyed. The youth, on his arrival at the
+island, found preparation making for the funeral of his father. It
+appeared that the elder Lodi had flattered one of his slaves with the
+prospect of his freedom, but had, nevertheless, included this slave in
+the sale that he had made of his estate. Actuated by revenge, the slave
+assassinated Lodi in the open street, and resigned himself, without a
+struggle, to the punishment which the law had provided for such a deed.
+
+"The property had been recently transferred, and the price was now
+presented to young Vincentio by the purchaser. He was by no means
+inclined to adopt his father's project, and was impatient to return with
+his inheritance to France. Before this could be done, the conduct of his
+father had rendered a voyage to the Continent indispensable.
+
+"Lodi had a daughter, whom, a few weeks previous to his death, he had
+intrusted to an American captain for whom he had contracted a
+friendship. The vessel was bound to Philadelphia; but the conduct she
+was to pursue, and the abode she was to select, on her arrival, were
+known only to the father, whose untimely death involved the son in
+considerable uncertainty with regard to his sister's fate. His anxiety
+on this account induced him to seize the first conveyance that offered.
+In a short time he landed at Baltimore.
+
+"As soon as he recovered from the fatigues of his voyage, he prepared to
+go to Philadelphia. Thither his baggage was immediately sent under the
+protection of a passenger and countryman. His money consisted in
+Portuguese gold, which, in pursuance of advice, he had changed into
+bank-notes. He besought me, in pathetic terms, to search out his sister,
+whose youth and poverty, and ignorance of the language and manners of
+the country, might expose her to innumerable hardships. At the same
+time, he put a pocket-book and small volume into my hand, indicating, by
+his countenance and gestures, his desire that I would deliver them to
+his sister.
+
+"His obsequies being decently performed, I had leisure to reflect upon
+the change in my condition which this incident had produced. In the
+pocket-book were found bills to the amount of twenty thousand dollars.
+The volume proved to be a manuscript, written by the elder Lodi in
+Italian, and contained memoirs of the ducal house of Visconti, from whom
+the writer believed himself to have lineally descended.
+
+"Thus had I arrived, by an avenue so much beyond my foresight, at the
+possession of wealth. The evil which impelled me to the brink of
+suicide, and which was the source, though not of all, yet of the larger
+portion, of my anguish, was now removed. What claims to honour or to
+ease were consequent on riches were, by an extraordinary fortune, now
+conferred upon me.
+
+"Such, for a time, were my new-born but transitory raptures. I forgot
+that this money was not mine. That it had been received, under every
+sanction of fidelity, for another's use. To retain it was equivalent to
+robbery. The sister of the deceased was the rightful claimant; it was my
+duty to search her out, and perform my tacit but sacred obligations, by
+putting the whole into her possession.
+
+"This conclusion was too adverse to my wishes not to be strenuously
+combated. I asked what it was that gave man the power of ascertaining
+the successor to his property. During his life, he might transfer the
+actual possession; but, if vacant at his death, he into whose hands
+accident should cast it was the genuine proprietor. It is true, that the
+law had sometimes otherwise decreed, but in law there was no validity
+further than it was able, by investigation and punishment, to enforce
+its decrees: but would the law extort this money from me?
+
+"It was rather by gesture than by words that the will of Lodi was
+imparted. It was the topic of remote inferences and vague conjecture
+rather than of explicit and unerring declarations. Besides, if the lady
+were found, would not prudence dictate the reservation of her fortune to
+be administered by me, for her benefit? Of this her age and education
+had disqualified herself. It was sufficient for the maintenance of both.
+She would regard me as her benefactor and protector. By supplying all
+her wants and watching over her safety without apprizing her of the
+means by which I shall be enabled to do this, I shall lay irresistible
+claims to her love and her gratitude.
+
+"Such were the sophistries by which reason was seduced and my integrity
+annihilated. I hastened away from my present abode. I easily traced the
+baggage of the deceased to an inn, and gained possession of it. It
+contained nothing but clothes and books. I then instituted the most
+diligent search after the young lady. For a time, my exertions were
+fruitless.
+
+"Meanwhile, the possessor of this house thought proper to embark with
+his family for Europe. The sum which he demanded for his furniture,
+though enormous, was precipitately paid by me. His servants were
+continued in their former stations, and in the day at which he
+relinquished the mansion, I entered on possession.
+
+"There was no difficulty in persuading the world that Welbeck was a
+personage of opulence and rank. My birth and previous adventures it was
+proper to conceal. The facility with which mankind are misled in their
+estimate of characters, their proneness to multiply inferences and
+conjectures, will not be readily conceived by one destitute of my
+experience. My sudden appearance on the stage, my stately reserve, my
+splendid habitation, and my circumspect deportment, were sufficient to
+entitle me to homage. The artifices that were used to unveil the truth,
+and the guesses that were current respecting me, were adapted to gratify
+my ruling passion.
+
+"I did not remit my diligence to discover the retreat of Mademoiselle
+Lodi. I found her, at length, in the family of a kinsman of the captain
+under whose care she had come to America. Her situation was irksome and
+perilous. She had already experienced the evils of being protectorless
+and indigent, and my seasonable interference snatched her from impending
+and less supportable ills.
+
+"I could safely unfold all that I knew of her brother's history, except
+the legacy which he had left. I ascribed the diligence with which I had
+sought her to his death-bed injunctions, and prevailed upon her to
+accept from me the treatment which she would have received from her
+brother if he had continued to live, and if his power to benefit had
+been equal to my own.
+
+"Though less can be said in praise of the understanding than of the
+sensibilities of this woman, she is one whom no one could refrain from
+loving, though placed in situations far less favourable to the
+generation of that sentiment than mine. In habits of domestic and
+incessant intercourse, in the perpetual contemplation of features
+animated by boundless gratitude and ineffable sympathies, it could not
+be expected that either she or I should escape enchantment.
+
+"The poison was too sweet not to be swallowed with avidity by me. Too
+late I remembered that I was already enslaved by inextricable
+obligations. It was easy to have hidden this impediment from the eyes of
+my companion, but here my integrity refused to yield. I can, indeed, lay
+claim to little merit on account of this forbearance. If there had been
+no alternative between deceit and the frustration of my hopes, I should
+doubtless have dissembled the truth with as little scruple on this as on
+a different occasion; but I could not be blind to the weakness of her
+with whom I had to contend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+"Meanwhile large deductions had been made from my stock of money, and
+the remnant would be speedily consumed by my present mode of life. My
+expenses far exceeded my previous expectations. In no long time I should
+be reduced to my ancient poverty, which the luxurious existence that I
+now enjoyed, and the regard due to my beloved and helpless companion,
+would render more irksome than ever. Some scheme to rescue me from this
+fate was indispensable; but my aversion to labour, to any pursuit the
+end of which was merely gain, and which would require application and
+attention, continued undiminished.
+
+"I was plunged anew into dejection and perplexity. From this I was
+somewhat relieved by a plan suggested by Mr. Thetford. I thought I had
+experience of his knowledge and integrity, and the scheme that he
+proposed seemed liable to no possibility of miscarriage. A ship was to
+be purchased, supplied with a suitable cargo, and despatched to a port
+in the West Indies. Loss from storms and enemies was to be precluded by
+insurance. Every hazard was to be enumerated, and the ship and cargo
+valued at the highest rate. Should the voyage be safely performed, the
+profits would be double the original expense. Should the ship be taken
+or wrecked, the insurers would have bound themselves to make ample,
+speedy, and certain indemnification. Thetford's brother, a wary and
+experienced trader, was to be the supercargo.
+
+"All my money was laid out upon this scheme. Scarcely enough was
+reserved to supply domestic and personal wants. Large debts were
+likewise incurred. Our caution had, as we conceived, annihilated every
+chance of failure. Too much could not be expended on a project so
+infallible; and the vessel, amply fitted and freighted, departed on her
+voyage.
+
+"An interval, not devoid of suspense and anxiety, succeeded. My
+mercantile inexperience made me distrust the clearness of my own
+discernment, and I could not but remember that my utter and
+irretrievable destruction was connected with the failure of my scheme.
+Time added to my distrust and apprehensions. The time at which tidings
+of the ship were to be expected elapsed without affording any
+information of her destiny. My anxieties, however, were to be carefully
+hidden from the world. I had taught mankind to believe that this project
+had been adopted more for amusement than gain; and the debts which I had
+contracted seemed to arise from willingness to adhere to established
+maxims, more than from the pressure of necessity.
+
+"Month succeeded month, and intelligence was still withheld. The notes
+which I had given for one-third of the cargo, and for the premium of
+insurance, would shortly become due. For the payment of the former, and
+the cancelling of the latter, I had relied upon the expeditious return
+or the demonstrated loss of the vessel. Neither of these events had
+taken place.
+
+"My cares were augmented from another quarter. My companion's situation
+now appeared to be such as, if our intercourse had been sanctified by
+wedlock, would have been regarded with delight. As it was, no symptoms
+were equally to be deplored. Consequences, as long as they were involved
+in uncertainty, were extenuated or overlooked; but now, when they became
+apparent and inevitable, were fertile of distress and upbraiding.
+
+"Indefinable fears, and a desire to monopolize all the meditations and
+affections of this being, had induced me to perpetuate her ignorance of
+any but her native language, and debar her from all intercourse with the
+world. My friends were of course inquisitive respecting her character,
+adventures, and particularly her relation to me. The consciousness how
+much the truth redounded to my dishonour made me solicitous to lead
+conjecture astray. For this purpose I did not discountenance the
+conclusion that was adopted by some,--that she was my daughter. I
+reflected that all dangerous surmises would be effectually precluded by
+this belief.
+
+"These precautions afforded me some consolation in my present
+difficulties. It was requisite to conceal the lady's condition from the
+world. If this should be ineffectual, it would not be difficult to
+divert suspicion from my person. The secrecy that I had practised would
+be justified, in the apprehension of those to whom the personal
+condition of Clemenza should be disclosed, by the feelings of a father.
+
+"Meanwhile, it was an obvious expedient to remove the unhappy lady to a
+distance from impertinent observers. A rural retreat, lonely and
+sequestered, was easily procured, and hither she consented to repair.
+This arrangement being concerted, I had leisure to reflect upon the
+evils which every hour brought nearer, and which threatened to
+exterminate me.
+
+"My inquietudes forbade me to sleep, and I was accustomed to rise before
+day and seek some respite in the fields. Returning from one of these
+unseasonable rambles, I chanced to meet you. Your resemblance to the
+deceased Lodi, in person and visage, is remarkable. When you first met
+my eye, this similitude startled me. Your subsequent appeal to my
+compassion was clothed in such terms as formed a powerful contrast with
+your dress, and prepossessed me greatly in favour of your education and
+capacity.
+
+"In my present hopeless condition, every incident, however trivial, was
+attentively considered, with a view to extract from it some means of
+escaping from my difficulties. My love for the Italian girl, in spite of
+all my efforts to keep it alive, had begun to languish. Marriage was
+impossible; and had now, in some degree, ceased to be desirable. We are
+apt to judge of others by ourselves. The passion I now found myself
+disposed to ascribe chiefly to fortuitous circumstances; to the impulse
+of gratitude, and the exclusion of competitors; and believed that your
+resemblance to her brother, your age and personal accomplishments,
+might, after a certain time, and in consequence of suitable
+contrivances on my part, give a new direction to her feelings. To gain
+your concurrence, I relied upon your simplicity, your gratitude, and
+your susceptibility to the charms of this bewitching creature.
+
+"I contemplated, likewise, another end. Mrs. Wentworth is rich. A youth
+who was once her favourite, and designed to inherit her fortunes, has
+disappeared, for some years, from the scene. His death is most probable,
+but of that there is no satisfactory information. The life of this
+person, whose name is Clavering, is an obstacle to some designs which
+had occurred to me in relation to this woman. My purposes were crude and
+scarcely formed. I need not swell the catalogue of my errors by
+expatiating upon them. Suffice it to say that the peculiar circumstances
+of your introduction to me led me to reflections on the use that might
+be made of your agency, in procuring this lady's acquiescence in my
+schemes. You were to be ultimately persuaded to confirm her in the
+belief that her nephew was dead. To this consummation it was
+indispensable to lead you by slow degrees and circuitous paths.
+Meanwhile, a profound silence, with regard to your genuine history, was
+to be observed; and to this forbearance your consent was obtained with
+more readiness than I expected.
+
+"There was an additional motive for the treatment you received from me.
+My personal projects and cares had hitherto prevented me from reading
+Lodi's manuscript; a slight inspection, however, was sufficient to prove
+that the work was profound and eloquent. My ambition has panted, with
+equal avidity, after the reputation of literature and opulence. To claim
+the authorship of this work was too harmless and specious a stratagem
+not to be readily suggested. I meant to translate it into English, and
+to enlarge it by enterprising incidents of my own invention. My scruples
+to assume the merit of the original composer might thus be removed. For
+this end, your assistance as an amanuensis would be necessary.
+
+"You will perceive that all these projects depended on the seasonable
+arrival of intelligence from ----. The delay of another week would seal
+my destruction. The silence might arise from the foundering of the ship
+and the destruction of all on board. In this case, the insurance was not
+forfeited, but payment could not be obtained within a year. Meanwhile,
+the premium and other debts must be immediately discharged, and this was
+beyond my power. Meanwhile, I was to live in a manner that would not
+belie my pretensions; but my coffers were empty.
+
+"I cannot adequately paint the anxieties with which I have been haunted.
+Each hour has added to the burden of my existence, till, in consequence
+of the events of this day, it has become altogether insupportable. Some
+hours ago, I was summoned by Thetford to his house. The messenger
+informed me that tidings had been received of my ship. In answer to my
+eager interrogations, he could give no other information than that she
+had been captured by the British. He was unable to relate particulars.
+
+"News of her safe return would, indeed, have been far more acceptable;
+but even this information was a source of infinite congratulation. It
+precluded the demand of my insurers. The payment of other debts might be
+postponed for a month, and my situation be the same as before the
+adoption of this successless scheme. Hope and joy were reinstated in my
+bosom, and I hasted to Thetford's counting-house.
+
+"He received me with an air of gloomy dissatisfaction. I accounted for
+his sadness by supposing him averse to communicate information which was
+less favourable than our wishes had dictated. He confirmed, with visible
+reluctance, the news of her capture. He had just received letters from
+his brother, acquainting him with all particulars, and containing the
+official documents of this transaction.
+
+"This had no tendency to damp my satisfaction, and I proceeded to peruse
+with eagerness the papers which he put into my hand. I had not proceeded
+far, when my joyous hopes vanished. Two French mulattoes had, after much
+solicitation, and the most solemn promises to carry with them no
+articles which the laws of war decree to be contraband, obtained a
+passage in the vessel. She was speedily encountered by a privateer, by
+whom every receptacle was ransacked. In a chest, belonging to the
+Frenchmen, and which they had affirmed to contain nothing but their
+clothes, were found two sabres, and other accoutrements of an officer of
+cavalry. Under this pretence, the vessel was captured and condemned, and
+this was a cause of forfeiture which had not been provided against in
+the contract of insurance.
+
+"By this untoward event my hopes were irreparably blasted. The utmost
+efforts were demanded to conceal my thoughts from my companion. The
+anguish that preyed upon my heart was endeavoured to be masked by looks
+of indifference. I pretended to have been previously informed by the
+messenger not only of the capture, but of the cause that led to it, and
+forbore to expatiate upon my loss, or to execrate the authors of my
+disappointment. My mind, however, was the theatre of discord and agony,
+and I waited with impatience for an opportunity to leave him.
+
+"For want of other topics, I asked by whom this information had been
+brought. He answered, that the bearer was Captain Amos Watson, whose
+vessel had been forfeited, at the same time, under a different pretence.
+He added that, my name being mentioned accidentally to Watson, the
+latter had betrayed marks of great surprise, and been very earnest in
+his inquiries respecting my situation. Having obtained what knowledge
+Thetford was able to communicate, the captain had departed, avowing a
+former acquaintance with me, and declaring his intention of paying me a
+visit.
+
+"These words operated on my frame like lightning. All within me was
+tumult and terror, and I rushed precipitately out of the house. I went
+forward with unequal steps, and at random. Some instinct led me into the
+fields, and I was not apprized of the direction of my steps, till,
+looking up, I found myself upon the shore of Schuylkill.
+
+"Thus was I, a second time, overborne by hopeless and incurable evils.
+An interval of motley feelings, of specious artifice and contemptible
+imposture, had elapsed since my meeting with the stranger at Wilmington.
+Then my forlorn state had led me to the brink of suicide. A brief and
+feverish respite had been afforded me, but now was I transported to the
+verge of the same abyss.
+
+"Amos Watson was the brother of the angel whom I had degraded and
+destroyed. What but fiery indignation and unappeasable vengeance could
+lead him into my presence? With what heart could I listen to his
+invectives? How could I endure to look upon the face of one whom I had
+loaded with such atrocious and intolerable injuries?
+
+"I was acquainted with his loftiness of mind; his detestation of
+injustice, and the whirlwind passions that ingratitude and villany like
+mine were qualified to awaken in his bosom. I dreaded not his violence.
+The death that he might be prompted to inflict was no object of
+aversion. It was poverty and disgrace, the detection of my crimes, the
+looks and voice of malediction and upbraiding, from which my cowardice
+shrunk.
+
+"Why should I live? I must vanish from that stage which I had lately
+trodden. My flight must be instant and precipitate. To be a fugitive
+from exasperated creditors, and from the industrious revenge of Watson,
+was an easy undertaking; but whither could I fly, where I should not be
+pursued by the phantoms of remorse, by the dread of hourly detection, by
+the necessities of hunger and thirst? In what scene should I be exempt
+from servitude and drudgery? Was my existence embellished with
+enjoyments that would justify my holding it, encumbered with hardships
+and immersed in obscurity?
+
+"There was no room for hesitation. To rush into the stream before me,
+and put an end at once to my life and the miseries inseparably linked
+with it, was the only proceeding which fate had left to my choice. My
+muscles were already exerted for this end, when the helpless condition
+of Clemenza was remembered. What provision could I make against the
+evils that threatened her? Should I leave her utterly forlorn and
+friendless? Mrs. Wentworth's temper was forgiving and compassionate.
+Adversity had taught her to participate and her wealth enabled her to
+relieve distress. Who was there by whom such powerful claims to succour
+and protection could be urged as by this desolate girl? Might I not
+state her situation in a letter to this lady, and urge irresistible
+pleas for the extension of her kindness to this object?
+
+"These thoughts made me suspend my steps. I determined to seek my
+habitation once more, and, having written and deposited this letter, to
+return to the execution of my fatal purpose. I had scarcely reached my
+own door, when some one approached along the pavement. The form, at
+first, was undistinguishable, but, by coming, at length, within the
+illumination of a lamp, it was perfectly recognised.
+
+"To avoid this detested interview was now impossible. Watson approached
+and accosted me. In this conflict of tumultuous feelings I was still
+able to maintain an air of intrepidity. His demeanour was that of a man
+who struggles with his rage. His accents were hurried, and scarcely
+articulate. 'I have ten words to say to you,' said he; 'lead into the
+house, and to some private room. My business with you will be despatched
+in a breath.'
+
+"I made him no answer, but led the way into my house, and to my study.
+On entering this room, I put the light upon the table, and, turning to
+my visitant, prepared silently to hear what he had to unfold. He struck
+his clenched hand against the table with violence. His motion was of
+that tempestuous kind as to overwhelm the power of utterance, and found
+it easier to vent itself in gesticulations than in words. At length he
+exclaimed,--
+
+"'It is well. Now has the hour, so long and so impatiently demanded by
+my vengeance, arrived. Welbeck! Would that my first words could strike
+thee dead! They will so, if thou hast any title to the name of man.
+
+"'My sister is dead; dead of anguish and a broken heart. Remote from her
+friends; in a hovel; the abode of indigence and misery.
+
+"'Her husband is no more. He returned after a long absence, a tedious
+navigation, and vicissitudes of hardships. He flew to the bosom of his
+love; of his wife. She was gone; lost to him, and to virtue. In a fit of
+desperation, he retired to his chamber and despatched himself. This is
+the instrument with which the deed was performed.'
+
+"Saying this, Watson took a pistol from his pocket, and held it to my
+head. I lifted not my hand to turn aside the weapon. I did not shudder
+at the spectacle, or shrink from his approaching hand. With fingers
+clasped together, and eyes fixed upon the floor, I waited till his fury
+was exhausted. He continued:--
+
+"'All passed in a few hours. The elopement of his daughter,--the death
+of his son. O my father! Most loved and most venerable of men! To see
+thee changed into a maniac! Haggard and wild! Deterred from outrage on
+thyself and those around thee by fetters and stripes! What was it that
+saved me from a like fate? To view this hideous ruin, and to think by
+whom it was occasioned! Yet not to become frantic like thee, my father;
+or not destroy myself like thee, my brother! My friend!--
+
+"'No. For this hour was I reserved; to avenge your wrongs and mine in
+the blood of this ungrateful villain.'
+
+"'There,' continued he, producing a second pistol, and tendering it to
+me,--'there is thy defence. Take we opposite sides of this table, and
+fire at the same instant.'
+
+"During this address I was motionless. He tendered the pistol, but I
+unclasped not my hands to receive it.
+
+"'Why do you hesitate?' resumed he. 'Let the chance between us be equal,
+or fire you first.'
+
+"'No,' said I, 'I am ready to die by your hand. I wish it. It will
+preclude the necessity of performing the office for myself. I have
+injured you, and merit all that your vengeance can inflict. I know your
+nature too well to believe that my death will be perfect expiation. When
+the gust of indignation is past, the remembrance of your deed will only
+add to your sum of misery; yet I do not love you well enough to wish
+that you would forbear. I desire to die, and to die by another's hand
+rather than my own.'
+
+"'Coward!' exclaimed Watson, with augmented vehemence, 'you know me too
+well to believe me capable of assassination. Vile subterfuge!
+Contemptible plea! Take the pistol and defend yourself. You want not the
+power or the will; but, knowing that I spurn at murder, you think your
+safety will be found in passiveness. Your refusal will avail you little.
+Your fame, if not your life, is at my mercy. If you falter now, I will
+allow you to live, but only till I have stabbed your reputation.'
+
+"I now fixed my eyes steadfastly upon him, and spoke:--'How much a
+stranger are you to the feelings of Welbeck! How poor a judge of his
+cowardice! I take your pistol, and consent to your conditions.'
+
+"We took opposite sides of the table. 'Are you ready?' he cried; 'fire!'
+
+"Both triggers were drawn at the same instant. Both pistols were
+discharged. Mine was negligently raised. Such is the untoward chance
+that presides over human affairs; such is the malignant destiny by which
+my steps have ever been pursued. The bullet whistled harmlessly by
+me,--levelled by an eye that never before failed, and with so small an
+interval between us. I escaped, but my blind and random shot took place
+in his heart.
+
+"There is the fruit of this disastrous meeting. The catalogue of death
+is thus completed. Thou sleepest, Watson! Thy sister is at rest, and so
+art thou. Thy vows of vengeance are at an end. It was not reserved for
+thee to be thy own and thy sister's avenger. Welbeck's measure of
+transgressions is now full, and his own hand must execute the justice
+that is due to him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+Such was Welbeck's tale, listened to by me with an eagerness in which
+every faculty was absorbed. How adverse to my dreams were the incidents
+that had just been related! The curtain was lifted, and a scene of guilt
+and ignominy disclosed where my rash and inexperienced youth had
+suspected nothing but loftiness and magnanimity.
+
+For a while the wondrousness of this tale kept me from contemplating the
+consequences that awaited us. My unfledged fancy had not hitherto soared
+to this pitch. All was astounding by its novelty, or terrific by its
+horror. The very scene of these offences partook, to my rustic
+apprehension, of fairy splendour and magical abruptness. My
+understanding was bemazed, and my senses were taught to distrust their
+own testimony.
+
+From this musing state I was recalled by my companion, who said to me,
+in solemn accents, "Mervyn! I have but two requests to make. Assist me
+to bury these remains, and then accompany me across the river. I have no
+power to compel your silence on the acts that you have witnessed. I have
+meditated to benefit as well as to injure you; but I do not desire that
+your demeanour should conform to any other standard than justice. You
+have promised, and to that promise I trust.
+
+"If you choose to fly from this scene, to withdraw yourself from what
+you may conceive to be a theatre of guilt or peril, the avenues are
+open; retire unmolested and in silence. If you have a manlike spirit, if
+you are grateful for the benefits bestowed upon you, if your discernment
+enables you to see that compliance with my request will entangle you in
+no guilt and betray you into no danger, stay, and aid me in hiding these
+remains from human scrutiny.
+
+"Watson is beyond the reach of further injury. I never intended him
+harm, though I have torn from him his sister and friend, and have
+brought his life to an untimely close. To provide him a grave is a duty
+that I owe to the dead and to the living. I shall quickly place myself
+beyond the reach of inquisitors and judges, but would willingly rescue
+from molestation or suspicion those whom I shall leave behind."
+
+What would have been the fruit of deliberation, if I had had the time or
+power to deliberate, I know not. My thoughts flowed with tumult and
+rapidity. To shut this spectacle from my view was the first impulse; but
+to desert this man, in a time of so much need, appeared a thankless and
+dastardly deportment. To remain where I was, to conform implicitly to
+his direction, required no effort. Some fear was connected with his
+presence, and with that of the dead; but, in the tremulous confusion of
+my present thoughts, solitude would conjure up a thousand phantoms.
+
+I made no preparation to depart. I did not verbally assent to his
+proposal. He interpreted my silence into acquiescence. He wrapped the
+body in the carpet, and then, lifting one end, cast at me a look which
+indicated his expectations that I would aid him in lifting this ghastly
+burden. During this process, the silence was unbroken.
+
+I knew not whither he intended to convey the corpse. He had talked of
+burial, but no receptacle had been provided. How far safety might depend
+upon his conduct in this particular, I was unable to estimate. I was in
+too heartless a mood to utter my doubts. I followed his example in
+raising the corpse from the floor.
+
+He led the way into the passage and down-stairs. Having reached the
+first floor, he unbolted a door which led into the cellar. The stairs
+and passage were illuminated by lamps that hung from the ceiling and
+were accustomed to burn during the night. Now, however, we were entering
+darksome and murky recesses.
+
+"Return," said he, in a tone of command, "and fetch the light. I will
+wait for you."
+
+I obeyed. As I returned with the light, a suspicion stole into my mind,
+that Welbeck had taken this opportunity to fly; and that, on regaining
+the foot of the stairs, I should find the spot deserted by all but the
+dead. My blood was chilled by this image. The momentary resolution it
+inspired was to follow the example of the fugitive, and leave the
+persons whom the ensuing day might convene on this spot, to form their
+own conjectures as to the cause of this catastrophe.
+
+Meanwhile, I cast anxious eyes forward. Welbeck was discovered in the
+same place and posture in which he had been left. Lifting the corpse and
+its shroud in his arms, he directed me to follow him. The vaults beneath
+were lofty and spacious. He passed from one to the other till we reached
+a small and remote cell. Here he cast his burden on the ground. In the
+fall, the face of Watson chanced to be disengaged from its covering. Its
+closed eyes and sunken muscles were rendered in a tenfold degree ghastly
+and rueful by the feeble light which the candle shed upon it.
+
+This object did not escape the attention of Welbeck. He leaned against
+the wall, and, folding his arms, resigned himself to reverie. He gazed
+upon the countenance of Watson, but his looks denoted his attention to
+be elsewhere employed.
+
+As to me, my state will not be easily described. My eye roved fearfully
+from one object to another. By turns it was fixed upon the murdered
+person and the murderer. The narrow cell in which we stood, its
+rudely-fashioned walls and arches, destitute of communication with the
+external air, and its palpable dark scarcely penetrated by the rays of a
+solitary candle, added to the silence which was deep and universal,
+produced an impression on my fancy which no time will obliterate.
+
+Perhaps my imagination was distempered by terror. The incident which I
+am going to relate may appear to have existed only in my fancy. Be that
+as it may, I experienced all the effects which the fullest belief is
+adapted to produce. Glancing vaguely at the countenance of Watson, my
+attention was arrested by a convulsive motion in the eyelids. This
+motion increased, till at length the eyes opened, and a glance, languid
+but wild, was thrown around. Instantly they closed, and the tremulous
+appearance vanished.
+
+I started from my place and was on the point of uttering some
+involuntary exclamation. At the same moment, Welbeck seemed to recover
+from his reverie.
+
+"How is this?" said he. "Why do we linger here? Every moment is
+precious. We cannot dig for him a grave with our hands. Wait here, while
+I go in search of a spade."
+
+Saying this, he snatched the candle from my hand, and hasted away. My
+eye followed the light as its gleams shifted their place upon the walls
+and ceilings, and, gradually vanishing, gave place to unrespited gloom.
+This proceeding was so unexpected and abrupt, that I had no time to
+remonstrate against it. Before I retrieved the power of reflection, the
+light had disappeared and the footsteps were no longer to be heard.
+
+I was not, on ordinary occasions, destitute of equanimity; but perhaps
+the imagination of man is naturally abhorrent of death, until tutored
+into indifference by habit. Every circumstance combined to fill me with
+shuddering and panic. For a while, I was enabled to endure my situation
+by the exertions of my reason. That the lifeless remains of a human
+being are powerless to injure or benefit, I was thoroughly persuaded. I
+summoned this belief to my aid, and was able, if not to subdue, yet to
+curb, my fears. I listened to catch the sound of the returning footsteps
+of Welbeck, and hoped that every new moment would terminate my solitude.
+
+No signal of his coming was afforded. At length it occurred to me that
+Welbeck had gone with no intention to return; that his malice had
+seduced me hither to encounter the consequences of his deed. He had fled
+and barred every door behind him. This suspicion may well be supposed to
+overpower my courage, and to call forth desperate efforts for my
+deliverance.
+
+I extended my hands and went forward. I had been too little attentive to
+the situation and direction of these vaults and passages, to go forward
+with undeviating accuracy. My fears likewise tended to confuse my
+perceptions and bewilder my steps. Notwithstanding the danger of
+encountering obstructions, I rushed towards the entrance with
+precipitation.
+
+My temerity was quickly punished. In a moment, I was repelled by a
+jutting angle of the wall, with such force that I staggered backward and
+fell. The blow was stunning, and, when I recovered my senses, I
+perceived that a torrent of blood was gushing from my nostrils. My
+clothes were moistened with this unwelcome effusion, and I could not but
+reflect on the hazard which I should incur by being detected in this
+recess, covered by these accusing stains.
+
+This reflection once more set me on my feet and incited my exertions. I
+now proceeded with greater wariness and caution. I had lost all distinct
+notions of my way. My motions were at random. All my labour was to shun
+obstructions and to advance whenever the vacuity would permit. By this
+means, the entrance was at length found, and, after various efforts, I
+arrived, beyond my hopes, at the foot of the staircase.
+
+I ascended, but quickly encountered an insuperable impediment. The door
+at the stair-head was closed and barred. My utmost strength was exerted
+in vain, to break the lock or the hinges. Thus were my direst
+apprehensions fulfilled. Welbeck had left me to sustain the charge of
+murder; to obviate suspicions the most atrocious and plausible that the
+course of human events is capable of producing.
+
+Here I must remain till the morrow; till some one can be made to
+overhear my calls and come to my deliverance. What effects will my
+appearance produce on the spectator? Terrified by phantoms and stained
+with blood, shall I not exhibit the tokens of a maniac as well as an
+assassin?
+
+The corpse of Watson will quickly be discovered. If, previous to this
+disclosure, I should change my blood-stained garments and withdraw into
+the country, shall I not be pursued by the most vehement suspicions,
+and, perhaps, hunted to my obscurest retreat by the ministers of
+justice? I am innocent; but my tale, however circumstantial or true,
+will scarcely suffice for my vindication. My flight will be construed
+into a proof of incontestable guilt.
+
+While harassed by these thoughts, my attention was attracted by a faint
+gleam cast upon the bottom of the staircase. It grew stronger, hovered
+for a moment in my sight, and then disappeared. That it proceeded from a
+lamp or candle, borne by some one along the passages, was no untenable
+opinion, but was far less probable than that the effulgence was
+meteorous. I confided in the latter supposition, and fortified myself
+anew against the dread of preternatural dangers. My thoughts reverted to
+the contemplation of the hazards and suspicions which flowed from my
+continuance in this spot.
+
+In the midst of my perturbed musing, my attention was again recalled by
+an illumination like the former. Instead of hovering and vanishing, it
+was permanent. No ray could be more feeble; but the tangible obscurity
+to which it succeeded rendered it conspicuous as an electrical flash.
+For a while I eyed it without moving from my place, and in momentary
+expectation of its disappearance.
+
+Remarking its stability, the propriety of scrutinizing it more nearly,
+and of ascertaining the source whence it flowed, was at length
+suggested. Hope, as well as curiosity, was the parent of my conduct.
+Though utterly at a loss to assign the cause of this appearance, I was
+willing to believe some connection between that cause and the means of
+my deliverance.
+
+I had scarcely formed the resolution of descending the stair, when my
+hope was extinguished by the recollection that the cellar had narrow and
+grated windows, through which light from the street might possibly have
+found access. A second recollection supplanted this belief, for in my
+way to this staircase my attention would have been solicited, and my
+steps, in some degree, been guided, by light coming through these
+avenues.
+
+Having returned to the bottom of the stair, I perceived every part of
+the long-drawn passage illuminated. I threw a glance forward to the
+quarter whence the rays seemed to proceed, and beheld, at a considerable
+distance, Welbeck in the cell which I had left, turning up the earth
+with a spade.
+
+After a pause of astonishment, the nature of the error which I had
+committed rushed upon my apprehension. I now perceived that the darkness
+had misled me to a different staircase from that which I had originally
+descended. It was apparent that Welbeck intended me no evil, but had
+really gone in search of the instrument which he had mentioned.
+
+This discovery overwhelmed me with contrition and shame, though it freed
+me from the terrors of imprisonment and accusation. To return to the
+cell which I had left, and where Welbeck was employed in his disastrous
+office, was the expedient which regard to my own safety unavoidably
+suggested.
+
+Welbeck paused, at my approach, and betrayed a momentary consternation
+at the sight of my ensanguined visage. The blood, by some inexplicable
+process of nature, perhaps by the counteracting influence of fear, had
+quickly ceased to flow. Whether the cause of my evasion, and of my flux
+of blood, was guessed, or whether his attention was withdrawn, by more
+momentous objects, from my condition, he proceeded in his task in
+silence.
+
+A shallow bed and a slight covering of clay were provided for the
+hapless Watson. Welbeck's movements were hurried and tremulous. His
+countenance betokened a mind engrossed by a single purpose, in some
+degree foreign to the scene before him. An intensity and fixedness of
+features were conspicuous, that led me to suspect the subversion of his
+reason.
+
+Having finished the task, he threw aside his implement. He then put into
+my hand a pocket-book, saying it belonged to Watson, and might contain
+something serviceable to the living. I might make what use of it I
+thought proper. He then remounted the stairs, and, placing the candle on
+a table in the hall, opened the principal door and went forth. I was
+driven, by a sort of mechanical impulse, in his footsteps. I followed
+him because it was agreeable to him and because I knew not whither else
+to direct my steps.
+
+The streets were desolate and silent. The watchman's call, remotely and
+faintly heard, added to the general solemnity. I followed my companion
+in a state of mind not easily described. I had no spirit even to inquire
+whither he was going. It was not till we arrived at the water's edge
+that I persuaded myself to break silence. I then began to reflect on the
+degree in which his present schemes might endanger Welbeck or myself. I
+had acted long enough a servile and mechanical part; and been guided by
+blind and foreign impulses. It was time to lay aside my fetters, and
+demand to know whither the path tended in which I was importuned to
+walk.
+
+Meanwhile I found myself entangled among boats and shipping. I am unable
+to describe the spot by any indisputable tokens. I know merely that it
+was the termination of one of the principal streets. Here Welbeck
+selected a boat and prepared to enter it. For a moment I hesitated to
+comply with his apparent invitation. I stammered out an
+interrogation:--"Why is this? Why should we cross the river? What
+service can I do for you? I ought to know the purpose of my voyage
+before I enter it."
+
+He checked himself and surveyed me for a minute in silence. "What do you
+fear?" said he. "Have I not explained my wishes? Merely cross the river
+with me, for I cannot navigate a boat by myself. Is there any thing
+arduous or mysterious in this undertaking? we part on the Jersey shore,
+and I shall leave you to your destiny. All I shall ask from you will be
+silence, and to hide from mankind what you know concerning me."
+
+He now entered the boat and urged me to follow his example. I
+reluctantly complied, I perceived that the boat contained but one oar,
+and that was a small one. He seemed startled and thrown into great
+perplexity by this discovery. "It will be impossible," said he, in a
+tone of panic and vexation, "to procure another at this hour: what is to
+be done?"
+
+This impediment was by no means insuperable. I had sinewy arms, and knew
+well how to use an oar for the double purpose of oar and rudder. I took
+my station at the stern, and quickly extricated the boat from its
+neighbours and from the wharves. I was wholly unacquainted with the
+river. The bar by which it was encumbered I knew to exist, but in what
+direction and to what extent it existed, and how it might be avoided in
+the present state of the tide, I knew not. It was probable, therefore,
+unknowing as I was of the proper track, that our boat would speedily
+have grounded.
+
+My attention, meanwhile, was fixed upon the oar. My companion sat at the
+prow, and was in a considerable degree unnoticed. I cast my eyes
+occasionally at the scene which I had left. Its novelty, joined with the
+incidents of my condition, threw me into a state of suspense and wonder
+which frequently slackened my hand and left the vessel to be driven by
+the downward current. Lights were sparingly seen, and these were
+perpetually fluctuating, as masts, yards, and hulls were interposed, and
+passed before them. In proportion as we receded from the shore, the
+clamours seemed to multiply, and the suggestion that the city was
+involved in confusion and uproar did not easily give way to maturer
+thoughts. _Twelve_ was the hour cried, and this ascended at once from
+all quarters, and was mingled with the baying of dogs, so as to produce
+trepidation and alarm.
+
+From this state of magnificent and awful feeling I was suddenly called
+by the conduct of Welbeck. We had scarcely moved two hundred yards from
+the shore, when he plunged into the water. The first conception was that
+some implement or part of the boat had fallen over-board. I looked back
+and perceived that his seat was vacant. In my first astonishment I
+loosened my hold of the oar, and it floated away. The surface was smooth
+as glass, and the eddy occasioned by his sinking was scarcely visible. I
+had not time to determine whether this was designed or accidental. Its
+suddenness deprived me of the power to exert myself for his succour. I
+wildly gazed around me, in hopes of seeing him rise. After some time my
+attention was drawn, by the sound of agitation in the water, to a
+considerable distance.
+
+It was too dark for any thing to be distinctly seen. There was no cry
+for help. The noise was like that of one vigorously struggling for a
+moment, and then sinking to the bottom. I listened with painful
+eagerness, but was unable to distinguish a third signal. He sunk to rise
+no more.
+
+I was for a time inattentive to my own situation. The dreadfulness and
+unexpectedness of this catastrophe occupied me wholly. The quick motion
+of the lights upon the shore showed me that I was borne rapidly along
+with the tide. How to help myself, how to impede my course or to regain
+either shore, since I had lost the oar, I was unable to tell. I was no
+less at a loss to conjecture whither the current, if suffered to control
+my vehicle, would finally transport me.
+
+The disappearance of lights and buildings, and the diminution of the
+noises, acquainted me that I had passed the town. It was impossible
+longer to hesitate. The shore was to be regained by one way only, which
+was swimming. To any exploit of this kind, my strength and my skill were
+adequate. I threw away my loose gown; put the pocket-book of the
+unfortunate Watson in my mouth, to preserve it from being injured by
+moisture; and committed myself to the stream.
+
+I landed in a spot incommoded with mud and reeds. I sunk knee-deep into
+the former, and was exhausted by the fatigue of extricating myself. At
+length I recovered firm ground, and threw myself on the turf to repair
+my wasted strength, and to reflect on the measures which my future
+welfare enjoined me to pursue.
+
+What condition was ever parallel to mine? The transactions of the last
+three days resembled the monstrous creations of delirium. They were
+painted with vivid hues on my memory; but so rapid and incongruous were
+these transitions, that I almost denied belief to their reality. They
+exercised a bewildering and stupefying influence on my mind, from which
+the meditations of an hour were scarcely sufficient to relieve me.
+Gradually I recovered the power of arranging my ideas and forming
+conclusions.
+
+Welbeck was dead. His property was swallowed up, and his creditors left
+to wonder at his disappearance. All that was left was the furniture of
+his house, to which Mrs. Wentworth would lay claim, in discharge of the
+unpaid rent. What now was the destiny that awaited the lost and
+friendless Mademoiselle Lodi? Where was she concealed? Welbeck had
+dropped no intimation by which I might be led to suspect the place of
+her abode. If my power, in other respects, could have contributed aught
+to her relief, my ignorance of her asylum had utterly disabled me.
+
+But what of the murdered person? He had suddenly vanished from the face
+of the earth. His fate and the place of his interment would probably be
+suspected and ascertained. Was I sure to escape from the consequences of
+this deed? Watson had relatives and friends. What influence on their
+state and happiness his untimely and mysterious fate would possess, it
+was obvious to inquire. This idea led me to the recollection of his
+pocket-book. Some papers might be there explanatory of his situation.
+
+I resumed my feet. I knew not where to direct my steps. I was dropping
+with wet, and shivering with the cold. I was destitute of habitation and
+friend. I had neither money nor any valuable thing in my possession. I
+moved forward mechanically and at random. Where I landed was at no great
+distance from the verge of the town. In a short time I discovered the
+glimmering of a distant lamp. To this I directed my steps, and here I
+paused to examine the contents of the pocket-book.
+
+I found three bank-notes, each of fifty dollars, enclosed in a piece of
+blank paper. Besides these were three letters, apparently written by his
+wife, and dated at Baltimore. They were brief, but composed in a strain
+of great tenderness, and containing affecting allusions to their child.
+I could gather, from their date and tenor, that they were received
+during his absence on his recent voyage; that her condition was
+considerably necessitous, and surrounded by wants which their prolonged
+separation had increased.
+
+The fourth letter was open, and seemed to have been very lately written.
+It was directed to Mrs. Mary Watson. He informed her in it of his
+arrival at Philadelphia from St. Domingo; of the loss of his ship and
+cargo; and of his intention to hasten home with all possible expedition.
+He told her that all was lost but one hundred and fifty dollars, the
+greater part of which he should bring with him, to relieve her more
+pressing wants. The letter was signed, and folded, and superscribed, but
+unsealed.
+
+A little consideration showed me in what manner it became me, on this
+occasion, to demean myself. I put the bank-notes in the letter, and
+sealed it with a wafer; a few of which were found in the pocket-book. I
+hesitated some time whether I should add any thing to the information
+which the letter contained, by means of a pencil which offered itself to
+my view; but I concluded to forbear. I could select no suitable terms in
+which to communicate the mournful truth. I resolved to deposit this
+letter at the post-office, where I knew letters could be left at all
+hours.
+
+My reflections at length reverted to my own condition. What was the fate
+reserved for me? How far my safety might be affected by remaining in the
+city, in consequence of the disappearance of Welbeck, and my known
+connection with the fugitive, it was impossible to foresee. My fears
+readily suggested innumerable embarrassments and inconveniences which
+would flow from this source. Besides, on what pretence should I remain?
+To whom could I apply for protection or employment? All avenues, even to
+subsistence, were shut against me. The country was my sole asylum. Here,
+in exchange for my labour, I could at least purchase food, safety, and
+repose. But, if my choice pointed to the country, there was no reason
+for a moment's delay. It would be prudent to regain the fields, and be
+far from this detested city before the rising of the sun.
+
+Meanwhile I was chilled and chafed by the clothes that I wore. To change
+them for others was absolutely necessary to my ease. The clothes which I
+wore were not my own, and were extremely unsuitable to my new condition.
+My rustic and homely garb was deposited in my chamber at Welbeck's.
+These thoughts suggested the design of returning thither. I considered
+that, probably, the servants had not been alarmed. That the door was
+unfastened, and the house was accessible. It would be easy to enter and
+retire without notice; and this, not without some waverings and
+misgivings, I presently determined to do.
+
+Having deposited my letter at the office, I proceeded to my late abode.
+I approached, and lifted the latch with caution. There were no
+appearances of any one having been disturbed. I procured a light in the
+kitchen, and hied softly and with dubious footsteps to my chamber. There
+I disrobed, and resumed my check shirt, and trowsers, and fustian coat.
+This change being accomplished, nothing remained but that I should
+strike into the country with the utmost expedition.
+
+In a momentary review which I took of the past, the design for which
+Welbeck professed to have originally detained me in his service occurred
+to my mind. I knew the danger of reasoning loosely on the subject of
+property. To any trinket or piece of furniture in this house I did not
+allow myself to question the right of Mrs. Wentworth; a right accruing
+to her in consequence of Welbeck's failure in the payment of his rent;
+but there was one thing which I felt an irresistible desire, and no
+scruples which should forbid me, to possess, and that was, the
+manuscript to which Welbeck had alluded, as having been written by the
+deceased Lodi.
+
+I was well instructed in Latin, and knew the Tuscan language to be
+nearly akin to it. I despaired not of being at some time able to
+cultivate this language, and believed that the possession of this
+manuscript might essentially contribute to this end, as well as to many
+others equally beneficial. It was easy to conjecture that the volume was
+to be found among his printed books, and it was scarcely less easy to
+ascertain the truth of this conjecture. I entered, not without tremulous
+sensations, into the apartment which had been the scene of the
+disastrous interview between Watson and Welbeck. At every step I almost
+dreaded to behold the spectre of the former rise before me.
+
+Numerous and splendid volumes were arranged on mahogany shelves, and
+screened by doors of glass. I ran swiftly over their names, and was at
+length so fortunate as to light upon the book of which I was in search.
+I immediately secured it, and, leaving the candle extinguished on a
+table in the parlour, I once more issued forth into the street. With
+light steps and palpitating heart I turned my face towards the country.
+My necessitous condition I believed would justify me in passing without
+payment the Schuylkill bridge, and the eastern sky began to brighten
+with the dawn of morning not till I had gained the distance of nine
+miles from the city.
+
+Such is the tale which I proposed to relate to you. Such are the
+memorable incidents of five days of my life; from which I have gathered
+more instruction than from the whole tissue of my previous existence.
+Such are the particulars of my knowledge respecting the crimes and
+misfortunes of Welbeck; which the insinuations of Wortley, and my desire
+to retain your good opinion, have induced me to unfold.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+Mervyn's pause allowed his auditors to reflect on the particulars of his
+narration, and to compare them with the facts with a knowledge of which
+their own observation had supplied them. My profession introduced me to
+the friendship of Mrs. Wentworth, by whom, after the disappearance of
+Welbeck, many circumstances respecting him had been mentioned. She
+particularly dwelt upon the deportment and appearance of this youth, at
+the single interview which took place between them, and her
+representations were perfectly conformable to those which Mervyn had
+himself delivered.
+
+Previously to this interview, Welbeck had insinuated to her that a
+recent event had put him in possession of the truth respecting the
+destiny of Clavering. A kinsman of his had arrived from Portugal, by
+whom this intelligence had been brought. He dexterously eluded her
+entreaties to be furnished with minuter information, or to introduce
+this kinsman to her acquaintance. As soon as Mervyn was ushered into her
+presence, she suspected him to be the person to whom Welbeck had
+alluded, and this suspicion his conversation had confirmed. She was at a
+loss to comprehend the reasons of the silence which he so pertinaciously
+maintained.
+
+Her uneasiness, however, prompted her to renew her solicitations. On the
+day subsequent to the catastrophe related by Mervyn, she sent a
+messenger to Welbeck, with a request to see him. Gabriel, the black
+servant, informed the messenger that his master had gone into the
+country for a week. At the end of the week, a messenger was again
+despatched with the same errand. He called and knocked, but no one
+answered his signals. He examined the entrance by the kitchen, but
+every avenue was closed. It appeared that the house was wholly deserted.
+
+These appearances naturally gave birth to curiosity and suspicion. The
+house was repeatedly examined, but the solitude and silence within
+continued the same. The creditors of Welbeck were alarmed by these
+appearances, and their claims to the property remaining in the house
+were precluded by Mrs. Wentworth, who, as owner of the mansion, was
+legally entitled to the furniture, in place of the rent which Welbeck
+had suffered to accumulate.
+
+On examining the dwelling, all that was valuable and portable,
+particularly linen and plate, was removed. The remainder was distrained,
+but the tumults of pestilence succeeded and hindered it from being sold.
+Things were allowed to continue in their former situation, and the house
+was carefully secured. We had no leisure to form conjectures on the
+causes of this desertion. An explanation was afforded us by the
+narrative of this youth. It is probable that the servants, finding their
+master's absence continue, had pillaged the house and fled.
+
+Meanwhile, though our curiosity with regard to Welbeck was appeased, it
+was obvious to inquire by what series of inducements and events Mervyn
+was reconducted to the city and led to the spot where I first met with
+him. We intimated our wishes in this respect, and our young friend
+readily consented to take up the thread of his story and bring it down
+to the point that was desired. For this purpose, the ensuing evening was
+selected. Having, at an early hour, shut ourselves up from all intruders
+and visitors, he continued as follows.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I have mentioned that, by sunrise, I had gained the distance of many
+miles from the city. My purpose was to stop at the first farm-house, and
+seek employment as a day-labourer. The first person whom I observed was
+a man of placid mien and plain garb. Habitual benevolence was apparent
+amidst the wrinkles of age. He was traversing his buckwheat-field, and
+measuring, as it seemed, the harvest that was now nearly ripe.
+
+I accosted him with diffidence, and explained my wishes. He listened to
+my tale with complacency, inquired into my name and family, and into my
+qualifications for the office to which I aspired. My answers were candid
+and full.
+
+"Why," said he, "I believe thou and I can make a bargain. We will, at
+least, try each other for a week or two. If it does not suit our mutual
+convenience, we can change. The morning is damp and cool, and thy plight
+does not appear the most comfortable that can be imagined. Come to the
+house and eat some breakfast."
+
+The behaviour of this good man filled me with gratitude and joy.
+Methought I could embrace him as a father, and entrance into his house
+appeared like return to a long-lost and much-loved home. My desolate and
+lonely condition appeared to be changed for paternal regards and the
+tenderness of friendship.
+
+These emotions were confirmed and heightened by every object that
+presented itself under this roof. The family consisted of Mrs. Hadwin,
+two simple and affectionate girls, his daughters, and servants. The
+manners of this family, quiet, artless, and cordial, the occupations
+allotted me, the land by which the dwelling was surrounded, its pure
+airs, romantic walks, and exhaustless fertility, constituted a powerful
+contrast to the scenes which I had left behind, and were congenial with
+every dictate of my understanding and every sentiment that glowed in my
+heart.
+
+My youth, mental cultivation, and circumspect deportment, entitled me to
+deference and confidence. Each hour confirmed me in the good opinion of
+Mr. Hadwin, and in the affections of his daughters. In the mind of my
+employer, the simplicity of the husbandman and the devotion of the
+Quaker were blended with humanity and intelligence. The sisters, Susan
+and Eliza, were unacquainted with calamity and vice through the medium
+of either observation or books. They were strangers to the benefits of
+an elaborate education, but they were endowed with curiosity and
+discernment, and had not suffered their slender means of instruction to
+remain unimproved.
+
+The sedateness of the elder formed an amusing contrast with the laughing
+eye and untamable vivacity of the younger; but they smiled and they
+wept in unison. They thought and acted in different but not discordant
+keys. On all momentous occasions, they reasoned and felt alike. In
+ordinary cases, they separated, as it were, into different tracks; but
+this diversity was productive not of jarring, but of harmony.
+
+A romantic and untutored disposition like mine may be supposed liable to
+strong impressions from perpetual converse with persons of their age and
+sex. The elder was soon discovered to have already disposed of her
+affections. The younger was free, and somewhat that is more easily
+conceived than named stole insensibly upon my heart. The images that
+haunted me at home and abroad, in her absence and her presence,
+gradually coalesced into one shape, and gave birth to an incessant train
+of latent palpitations and indefinable hopes. My days were little else
+than uninterrupted reveries, and night only called up phantoms more
+vivid and equally enchanting.
+
+The memorable incidents which had lately happened scarcely counterpoised
+my new sensations or diverted my contemplations from the present. My
+views were gradually led to rest upon futurity, and in that I quickly
+found cause of circumspection and dread. My present labours were light,
+and were sufficient for my subsistence in a single state; but wedlock
+was the parent of new wants and of new cares. Mr. Hadwin's possessions
+were adequate to his own frugal maintenance, but, divided between his
+children, would be too scanty for either. Besides, this division could
+only take place at his death, and that was an event whose speedy
+occurrence was neither desirable nor probable.
+
+Another obstacle was now remembered. Hadwin was the conscientious member
+of a sect which forbade the marriage of its votaries with those of a
+different communion. I had been trained in an opposite creed, and
+imagined it impossible that I should ever become a proselyte to
+Quakerism. It only remained for me to feign conversion, or to root out
+the opinions of my friend and win her consent to a secret marriage.
+Whether hypocrisy was eligible was no subject of deliberation. If the
+possession of all that ambition can conceive were added to the
+transports of union with Eliza Hadwin, and offered as the price of
+dissimulation, it would have been instantly rejected. My external goods
+were not abundant nor numerous, but the consciousness of rectitude was
+mine; and, in competition with this, the luxury of the heart and of the
+senses, the gratifications of boundless ambition and inexhaustible
+wealth, were contemptible and frivolous.
+
+The conquest of Eliza's errors was easy; but to introduce discord and
+sorrow into this family was an act of the utmost ingratitude and
+profligacy. It was only requisite for my understanding clearly to
+discern, to be convinced of the insuperability of this obstacle. It was
+manifest, therefore, that the point to which my wishes tended was placed
+beyond my reach.
+
+To foster my passion was to foster a disease destructive either of my
+integrity or my existence. It was indispensable to fix my thoughts upon
+a different object, and to debar myself even from her intercourse. To
+ponder on themes foreign to my darling image, and to seclude myself from
+her society, at hours which had usually been spent with her, were
+difficult tasks. The latter was the least practicable. I had to contend
+with eyes which alternately wondered at and upbraided me for my
+unkindness. She was wholly unaware of the nature of her own feelings,
+and this ignorance made her less scrupulous in the expression of her
+sentiments.
+
+Hitherto I had needed not employment beyond myself and my companions.
+Now my new motives made me eager to discover some means of controlling
+and beguiling my thoughts. In this state, the manuscript of Lodi
+occurred to me. In my way hither, I had resolved to make the study of
+the language of this book, and the translation of its contents into
+English, the business and solace of my leisure. Now this resolution was
+revived with new force.
+
+My project was perhaps singular. The ancient language of Italy possessed
+a strong affinity with the modern. My knowledge of the former was my
+only means of gaining the latter. I had no grammar or vocabulary to
+explain how far the meanings and inflections of Tuscan words varied
+from the Roman dialect. I was to ponder on each sentence and phrase; to
+select among different conjectures the most plausible, and to ascertain
+the true by patient and repeated scrutiny.
+
+This undertaking, fantastic and impracticable as it may seem, proved,
+upon experiment, to be within the compass of my powers. The detail of my
+progress would be curious and instructive. What impediments, in the
+attainment of a darling purpose, human ingenuity and patience are able
+to surmount; how much may be done by strenuous and solitary efforts; how
+the mind, unassisted, may draw forth the principles of inflection and
+arrangement; may profit by remote, analogous, and latent similitudes,
+would be forcibly illustrated by my example; but the theme, however
+attractive, must, for the present, be omitted.
+
+My progress was slow; but the perception of hourly improvement afforded
+me unspeakable pleasure. Having arrived near the last pages, I was able
+to pursue, with little interruption, the thread of an eloquent
+narration. The triumph of a leader of outlaws over the popular
+enthusiasm of the Milanese and the claims of neighbouring potentates was
+about to be depicted. The _Condottiero_ Sforza had taken refuge from his
+enemies in a tomb, accidentally discovered amidst the ruins of a Roman
+fortress in the Apennines. He had sought this recess for the sake of
+concealment, but found in it a treasure by which he would be enabled to
+secure the wavering and venal faith of that crew of ruffians that
+followed his standard, provided he fell not into the hands of the
+enemies who were now in search of him.
+
+My tumultuous curiosity was suddenly checked by the following leaves
+being glued together at the edges. To dissever them without injury to
+the written spaces was by no means easy. I proceeded to the task, not
+without precipitation. The edges were torn away, and the leaves parted.
+
+It may be thought that I took up the thread where it had been broken;
+but no. The object that my eyes encountered, and which the cemented
+leaves had so long concealed, was beyond the power of the most
+capricious or lawless fancy to have prefigured; yet it bore a shadowy
+resemblance to the images with which my imagination was previously
+occupied. I opened, and beheld--_a bank-note_!
+
+To the first transports of surprise, the conjecture succeeded, that the
+remaining leaves, cemented together in the same manner, might enclose
+similar bills. They were hastily separated, and the conjecture was
+verified. My sensations at this discovery were of an inexplicable kind.
+I gazed at the notes in silence. I moved my finger over them; held them
+in different positions; read and reread the name of each sum, and the
+signature; added them together, and repeated to myself--"_Twenty
+thousand dollars!_ They are mine, and by such means!"
+
+This sum would have redeemed the fallen fortunes of Welbeck. The dying
+Lodi was unable to communicate all the contents of this inestimable
+volume. He had divided his treasure, with a view to its greater safety,
+between this volume and his pocket-book. Death hasted upon him too
+suddenly to allow him to explain his precautions. Welbeck had placed the
+book in his collection, purposing some time to peruse it; but, deterred
+by anxieties which the perusal would have dissipated, he rushed to
+desperation and suicide, from which some evanescent contingency, by
+unfolding this treasure to his view, would have effectually rescued him.
+
+But was this event to be regretted? This sum, like the former, would
+probably have been expended in the same pernicious prodigality. His
+career would have continued some time longer; but his inveterate habits
+would have finally conducted his existence to the same criminal and
+ignominious close.
+
+But the destiny of Welbeck was accomplished. The money was placed,
+without guilt or artifice, in my possession. My fortune had been thus
+unexpectedly and wondrously propitious. How was I to profit by her
+favour? Would not this sum enable me to gather round me all the
+instruments of pleasure? Equipage, and palace, and a multitude of
+servants; polished mirrors, splendid hangings, banquets, and flatterers,
+were equally abhorrent to my taste and my principles. The accumulation
+of knowledge, and the diffusion of happiness, in which riches may be
+rendered eminently instrumental, were the only precepts of duty, and the
+only avenues to genuine felicity.
+
+"But what," said I, "is my title to this money? By retaining it, shall I
+not be as culpable as Welbeck? It came into his possession, as it came
+into mine, without a crime; but my knowledge of the true proprietor is
+equally certain, and the claims of the unfortunate stranger are as valid
+as ever. Indeed, if utility, and not law, be the measure of justice, her
+claim, desolate and indigent as she is, unfitted, by her past life, by
+the softness and the prejudices of her education, for contending with
+calamity, is incontestable.
+
+"As to me, health and diligence will give me, not only the competence
+which I seek, but the power of enjoying it. If my present condition be
+unchangeable, I shall not be unhappy. My occupations are salutary and
+meritorious; I am a stranger to the cares as well as to the enjoyment of
+riches; abundant means of knowledge are possessed by me, as long as I
+have eyes to gaze at man and at nature, as they are exhibited in their
+original forms or in books. The precepts of my duty cannot be mistaken.
+The lady must be sought and the money restored to her."
+
+Certain obstacles existed to the immediate execution of this scheme. How
+should I conduct my search? What apology should I make for withdrawing
+thus abruptly, and contrary to the terms of an agreement into which I
+had lately entered, from the family and service of my friend and
+benefactor Hadwin?
+
+My thoughts were called away from pursuing these inquiries by a rumour,
+which had gradually swelled to formidable dimensions; and which, at
+length, reached us in our quiet retreats. The city, we were told, was
+involved in confusion and panic, for a pestilential disease had begun
+its destructive progress. Magistrates and citizens were flying to the
+country. The numbers of the sick multiplied beyond all example; even in
+the pest-affected cities of the Levant. The malady was malignant and
+unsparing.
+
+The usual occupations and amusements of life were at an end. Terror had
+exterminated all the sentiments of nature. Wives were deserted by
+husbands, and children by parents. Some had shut themselves in their
+houses, and debarred themselves from all communication with the rest of
+mankind. The consternation of others had destroyed their understanding,
+and their misguided steps hurried them into the midst of the danger
+which they had previously laboured to shun. Men were seized by this
+disease in the streets; passengers fled from them; entrance into their
+own dwellings was denied to them; they perished in the public ways.
+
+The chambers of disease were deserted, and the sick left to die of
+negligence. None could be found to remove the lifeless bodies. Their
+remains, suffered to decay by piecemeal, filled the air with deadly
+exhalations, and added tenfold to the devastation.
+
+Such was the tale, distorted and diversified a thousand ways by the
+credulity and exaggeration of the tellers. At first I listened to the
+story with indifference or mirth. Methought it was confuted by its own
+extravagance. The enormity and variety of such an evil made it unworthy
+to be believed. I expected that every new day would detect the absurdity
+and fallacy of such representations. Every new day, however, added to
+the number of witnesses and the consistency of the tale, till, at
+length, it was not possible to withhold my faith.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+This rumour was of a nature to absorb and suspend the whole soul. A
+certain sublimity is connected with enormous dangers that imparts to our
+consternation or our pity a tincture of the pleasing. This, at least,
+may be experienced by those who are beyond the verge of peril. My own
+person was exposed to no hazard. I had leisure to conjure up terrific
+images, and to personate the witnesses and sufferers of this calamity.
+This employment was not enjoined upon me by necessity, but was ardently
+pursued, and must therefore have been recommended by some nameless
+charm.
+
+Others were very differently affected. As often as the tale was
+embellished with new incidents or enforced by new testimony, the hearer
+grew pale, his breath was stifled by inquietudes, his blood was chilled,
+and his stomach was bereaved of its usual energies. A temporary
+indisposition was produced in many. Some were haunted by a melancholy
+bordering upon madness, and some, in consequence of sleepless panics,
+for which no cause could be assigned, and for which no opiates could be
+found, were attacked by lingering or mortal diseases.
+
+Mr. Hadwin was superior to groundless apprehensions. His daughters,
+however, partook in all the consternation which surrounded them. The
+eldest had, indeed, abundant reason for her terror. The youth to whom
+she was betrothed resided in the city. A year previous to this, he had
+left the house of Mr. Hadwin, who was his uncle, and had removed to
+Philadelphia in pursuit of fortune.
+
+He made himself clerk to a merchant, and, by some mercantile adventures
+in which he had successfully engaged, began to flatter himself with
+being able, in no long time, to support a family. Meanwhile, a tender
+and constant correspondence was maintained between him and his beloved
+Susan. This girl was a soft enthusiast, in whose bosom devotion and love
+glowed with an ardour that has seldom been exceeded.
+
+The first tidings of the _yellow fever_ was heard by her with
+unspeakable perturbation. Wallace was interrogated, by letter,
+respecting its truth. For a time, he treated it as a vague report. At
+length, a confession was extorted from him that there existed a
+pestilential disease in the city; but he added that it was hitherto
+confined to one quarter, distant from the place of his abode.
+
+The most pathetic entreaties were urged by her that he would withdraw
+into the country. He declared his resolution to comply when the street
+in which he lived should become infected and his stay should be attended
+with real danger. He stated how much his interests depended upon the
+favour of his present employer, who had used the most powerful arguments
+to detain him, but declared that, when his situation should become, in
+the least degree, perilous, he would slight every consideration of
+gratitude and interest, and fly to _Malverton_. Meanwhile, he promised
+to communicate tidings of his safety by every opportunity.
+
+Belding, Mr. Hadwin's next neighbour, though not uninfected by the
+general panic, persisted to visit the city daily with his _market-cart_.
+He set out by sunrise, and usually returned by noon. By him a letter was
+punctually received by Susan. As the hour of Belding's return
+approached, her impatience and anxiety increased. The daily epistle was
+received and read, in a transport of eagerness. For a while her emotion
+subsided, but returned with augmented vehemence at noon on the ensuing
+day.
+
+These agitations were too vehement for a feeble constitution like hers.
+She renewed her supplications to Wallace to quit the city. He repeated
+his assertions of being, hitherto, secure, and his promise of coming
+when the danger should be imminent. When Belding returned, and, instead
+of being accompanied by Wallace, merely brought a letter from him, the
+unhappy Susan would sink into fits of lamentation and weeping, and repel
+every effort to console her with an obstinacy that partook of madness.
+It was, at length, manifest that Wallace's delays would be fatally
+injurious to the health of his mistress.
+
+Mr. Hadwin had hitherto been passive. He conceived that the entreaties
+and remonstrances of his daughter were more likely to influence the
+conduct of Wallace than any representations which he could make. Now,
+however, he wrote the contumacious Wallace a letter, in which he laid
+his commands upon him to return in company with Belding, and declared
+that by a longer delay the youth would forfeit his favour.
+
+The malady had, at this time, made considerable progress. Belding's
+interest at length yielded to his fears, and this was the last journey
+which he proposed to make. Hence our impatience for the return of
+Wallace was augmented; since, if this opportunity were lost, no suitable
+conveyance might again be offered him.
+
+Belding set out, as usual, at the dawn of day. The customary interval
+between his departure and return was spent by Susan in a tumult of hopes
+and fears. As noon approached, her suspense arose to a pitch of wildness
+and agony. She could scarcely be restrained from running along the road,
+many miles, towards the city; that she might, by meeting Belding
+half-way, the sooner ascertain the fate of her lover. She stationed
+herself at a window which overlooked the road along which Belding was to
+pass.
+
+Her sister and her father, though less impatient, marked, with painful
+eagerness, the first sound of the approaching vehicle. They snatched a
+look at it as soon as it appeared in sight. Belding was without a
+companion.
+
+This confirmation of her fears overwhelmed the unhappy Susan. She sunk
+into a fit, from which, for a long time, her recovery was hopeless. This
+was succeeded by paroxysms of a furious insanity, in which she
+attempted to snatch any pointed implement which lay within her reach,
+with a view to destroy herself. These being carefully removed, or
+forcibly wrested from her, she resigned herself to sobs and
+exclamations.
+
+Having interrogated Belding, he informed us that he occupied his usual
+post in the market-place; that heretofore Wallace had duly sought him
+out, and exchanged letters; but that, on this morning, the young man had
+not made his appearance, though Belding had been induced, by his wish to
+see him, to prolong his stay in the city much beyond the usual period.
+
+That some other cause than sickness had occasioned this omission was
+barely possible. There was scarcely room for the most sanguine temper to
+indulge a hope. Wallace was without kindred, and probably without
+friends, in the city. The merchant in whose service he had placed
+himself was connected with him by no considerations but that of
+interest. What then must be his situation when seized with a malady
+which all believed to be contagious, and the fear of which was able to
+dissolve the strongest ties that bind human beings together?
+
+I was personally a stranger to this youth. I had seen his letters, and
+they bespoke, not indeed any great refinement or elevation of
+intelligence, but a frank and generous spirit, to which I could not
+refuse my esteem; but his chief claim to my affection consisted in his
+consanguinity to Mr. Hadwin, and his place in the affections of Susan.
+His welfare was essential to the happiness of those whose happiness had
+become essential to mine. I witnessed the outrages of despair in the
+daughter, and the symptoms of a deep but less violent grief in the
+sister and parent. Was it not possible for me to alleviate their pangs?
+Could not the fate of Wallace be ascertained?
+
+This disease assailed men with different degrees of malignity. In its
+worst form perhaps it was incurable; but, in some of its modes, it was
+doubtless conquerable by the skill of physicians and the fidelity of
+nurses. In its least formidable symptoms, negligence and solitude would
+render it fatal.
+
+Wallace might, perhaps, experience this pest in its most lenient
+degree; but the desertion of all mankind, the want not only of medicines
+but of food, would irrevocably seal his doom. My imagination was
+incessantly pursued by the image of this youth, perishing alone, and in
+obscurity; calling on the name of distant friends, or invoking,
+ineffectually, the succour of those who were near.
+
+Hitherto distress had been contemplated at a distance, and through the
+medium of a fancy delighting to be startled by the wonderful, or
+transported by sublimity. Now the calamity had entered my own doors,
+imaginary evils were supplanted by real, and my heart was the seat of
+commiseration and horror.
+
+I found myself unfit for recreation or employment. I shrouded myself in
+the gloom of the neighbouring forest, or lost myself in the maze of
+rocks and dells. I endeavoured, in vain, to shut out the phantoms of the
+dying Wallace, and to forget the spectacle of domestic woes. At length
+it occurred to me to ask, May not this evil be obviated, and the
+felicity of the Hadwins re-established? Wallace is friendless and
+succourless; but cannot I supply to him the place of protector and
+nurse? Why not hasten to the city, search out his abode, and ascertain
+whether he be living or dead? If he still retain life, may I not, by
+consolation and attendance, contribute to the restoration of his health,
+and conduct him once more to the bosom of his family?
+
+With what transports will his arrival be hailed! How amply will their
+impatience and their sorrow be compensated by his return! In the
+spectacle of their joys, how rapturous and pure will be my delight! Do
+the benefits which I have received from the Hadwins demand a less
+retribution than this?
+
+It is true that my own life will be endangered; but my danger will be
+proportioned to the duration of my stay in this seat of infection. The
+death or the flight of Wallace may absolve me from the necessity of
+spending one night in the city. The rustics who daily frequent the
+market are, as experience proves, exempt from this disease; in
+consequence, perhaps, of limiting their continuance in the city to a few
+hours. May I not, in this respect, conform to their example, and enjoy
+a similar exemption?
+
+My stay, however, may be longer than the day. I may be condemned to
+share in the common destiny. What then? Life is dependent on a thousand
+contingencies, not to be computed or foreseen. The seeds of an early and
+lingering death are sown in my constitution. It is in vain to hope to
+escape the malady by which my mother and my brothers have died. We are a
+race whose existence some inherent property has limited to the short
+space of twenty years. We are exposed, in common with the rest of
+mankind, to innumerable casualties; but, if these be shunned, we are
+unalterably fated to perish by _consumption_. Why then should I scruple
+to lay down my life in the cause of virtue and humanity? It is better to
+die in the consciousness of having offered an heroic sacrifice, to die
+by a speedy stroke, than by the perverseness of nature, in ignominious
+inactivity and lingering agonies.
+
+These considerations determined me to hasten to the city. To mention my
+purpose to the Hadwins would be useless or pernicious. It would only
+augment the sum of their present anxieties. I should meet with a
+thousand obstacles in the tenderness and terror of Eliza, and in the
+prudent affection of her father. Their arguments I should be condemned
+to hear, but should not be able to confute; and should only load myself
+with imputations of perverseness and temerity.
+
+But how else should I explain my absence? I had hitherto preserved my
+lips untainted by prevarication or falsehood. Perhaps there was no
+occasion which would justify an untruth; but here, at least, it was
+superfluous or hurtful. My disappearance, if effected without notice or
+warning, will give birth to speculation and conjecture; but my true
+motives will never be suspected, and therefore will excite no fears. My
+conduct will not be charged with guilt. It will merely be thought upon
+with some regret, which will be alleviated by the opinion of my safety,
+and the daily expectation of my return.
+
+But, since my purpose was to search out Wallace, I must be previously
+furnished with directions to the place of his abode, and a description
+of his person. Satisfaction on this head was easily obtained from Mr.
+Hadwin; who was prevented from suspecting the motives of my curiosity,
+by my questions being put in a manner apparently casual. He mentioned
+the street, and the number of the house.
+
+I listened with surprise. It was a house with which I was already
+familiar. He resided, it seems, with a merchant. Was it possible for me
+to be mistaken?
+
+What, I asked, was the merchant's name?
+
+_Thetford._
+
+This was a confirmation of my first conjecture. I recollected the
+extraordinary means by which I had gained access to the house and
+bedchamber of this gentleman. I recalled the person and appearance of
+the youth by whose artifices I had been entangled in the snare. These
+artifices implied some domestic or confidential connection between
+Thetford and my guide. Wallace was a member of the family. Could it be
+he by whom I was betrayed?
+
+Suitable questions easily obtained from Hadwin a description of the
+person and carriage of his nephew. Every circumstance evinced the
+identity of their persons. Wallace, then, was the engaging and sprightly
+youth whom I had encountered at Lesher's; and who, for purposes not
+hitherto discoverable, had led me into a situation so romantic and
+perilous.
+
+I was far from suspecting that these purposes were criminal. It was easy
+to infer that his conduct proceeded from juvenile wantonness and a love
+of sport. My resolution was unaltered by this disclosure; and, having
+obtained all the information which I needed, I secretly began my
+journey.
+
+My reflections, on the way, were sufficiently employed in tracing the
+consequences of my project; in computing the inconveniences and dangers
+to which I was preparing to subject myself; in fortifying my courage
+against the influence of rueful sights and abrupt transitions; and in
+imagining the measures which it would be proper to pursue in every
+emergency.
+
+Connected as these views were with the family and character of
+Thetford, I could not but sometimes advert to those incidents which
+formerly happened. The mercantile alliance between him and Welbeck was
+remembered; the allusions which were made to the condition of the latter
+in the chamber-conversation of which I was an unsuspected auditor; and
+the relation which these allusions might possess with subsequent
+occurrences. Welbeck's property was forfeited. It had been confided to
+the care of Thetford's brother. Had the cause of this forfeiture been
+truly or thoroughly explained? Might not contraband articles have been
+admitted through the management or under the connivance of the brothers?
+and might not the younger Thetford be furnished with the means of
+purchasing the captured vessel and her cargo,--which, as usual, would be
+sold by auction at a fifth or tenth of its real value?
+
+Welbeck was not alive to profit by the detection of this artifice,
+admitting these conclusions to be just. My knowledge will be useless to
+the world; for by what motives can I be influenced to publish the truth?
+or by whom will my single testimony be believed, in opposition to that
+plausible exterior, and, perhaps, to that general integrity, which
+Thetford has maintained? To myself it will not be unprofitable. It is a
+lesson on the principles of human nature; on the delusiveness of
+appearances; on the perviousness of fraud; and on the power with which
+nature has invested human beings over the thoughts and actions of each
+other.
+
+Thetford and his frauds were dismissed from my thoughts, to give place
+to considerations relative to Clemenza Lodi, and the money which chance
+had thrown into my possession. Time had only confirmed my purpose to
+restore these bills to the rightful proprietor, and heightened my
+impatience to discover her retreat. I reflected, that the means of doing
+this were more likely to suggest themselves at the place to which I was
+going than elsewhere. I might, indeed, perish before my views, in this
+respect, could be accomplished. Against these evils I had at present no
+power to provide. While I lived, I would bear perpetually about me the
+volume and its precious contents. If I died, a superior power must
+direct the course of this as of all other events.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+These meditations did not enfeeble my resolution, or slacken my pace. In
+proportion as I drew near the city, the tokens of its calamitous
+condition became more apparent. Every farm-house was filled with
+supernumerary tenants, fugitives from home, and haunting the skirts of
+the road, eager to detain every passenger with inquiries after news. The
+passengers were numerous; for the tide of emigration was by no means
+exhausted. Some were on foot, bearing in their countenances the tokens
+of their recent terror, and filled with mournful reflections on the
+forlornness of their state. Few had secured to themselves an asylum;
+some were without the means of paying for victuals or lodging for the
+coming night; others, who were not thus destitute, yet knew not whither
+to apply for entertainment, every house being already overstocked with
+inhabitants, or barring its inhospitable doors at their approach.
+
+Families of weeping mothers and dismayed children, attended with a few
+pieces of indispensable furniture, were carried in vehicles of every
+form. The parent or husband had perished; and the price of some movable,
+or the pittance handed forth by public charity, had been expended to
+purchase the means of retiring from this theatre of disasters, though
+uncertain and hopeless of accommodation in the neighbouring districts.
+
+Between these and the fugitives whom curiosity had led to the road,
+dialogues frequently took place, to which I was suffered to listen. From
+every mouth the tale of sorrow was repeated with new aggravations.
+Pictures of their own distress, or of that of their neighbours, were
+exhibited in all the hues which imagination can annex to pestilence and
+poverty.
+
+My preconceptions of the evil now appeared to have fallen short of the
+truth. The dangers into which I was rushing seemed more numerous and
+imminent than I had previously imagined. I wavered not in my purpose. A
+panic crept to my heart, which more vehement exertions were necessary to
+subdue or control; but I harboured not a momentary doubt that the course
+which I had taken was prescribed by duty. There was no difficulty or
+reluctance in proceeding. All for which my efforts were demanded was to
+walk in this path without tumult or alarm.
+
+Various circumstances had hindered me from setting out upon this journey
+as early as was proper. My frequent pauses to listen to the narratives
+of travellers contributed likewise to procrastination. The sun had
+nearly set before I reached the precincts of the city. I pursued the
+track which I had formerly taken, and entered High Street after
+nightfall. Instead of equipages and a throng of passengers, the voice of
+levity and glee, which I had formerly observed, and which the mildness
+of the season would, at other times, have produced, I found nothing but
+a dreary solitude.
+
+The market-place, and each side of this magnificent avenue, were
+illuminated, as before, by lamps; but between the verge of Schuylkill
+and the heart of the city I met not more than a dozen figures; and these
+were ghost-like, wrapped in cloaks, from behind which they cast upon me
+glances of wonder and suspicion, and, as I approached, changed their
+course, to avoid touching me. Their clothes were sprinkled with vinegar,
+and their nostrils defended from contagion by some powerful perfume.
+
+I cast a look upon the houses, which I recollected to have formerly
+been, at this hour, brilliant with lights, resounding with lively
+voices, and thronged with busy faces. Now they were closed, above and
+below; dark, and without tokens of being inhabited. From the upper
+windows of some, a gleam sometimes fell upon the pavement I was
+traversing, and showed that their tenants had not fled, but were
+secluded or disabled.
+
+These tokens were new, and awakened all my panics. Death seemed to
+hover over this scene, and I dreaded that the floating pestilence had
+already lighted on my frame. I had scarcely overcome these tremors, when
+I approached a house the door of which was opened, and before which
+stood a vehicle, which I presently recognised to be a _hearse_.
+
+The driver was seated on it. I stood still to mark his visage, and to
+observe the course which he proposed to take. Presently a coffin, borne
+by two men, issued from the house. The driver was a negro; but his
+companions were white. Their features were marked by ferocious
+indifference to danger or pity. One of them, as he assisted in thrusting
+the coffin into the cavity provided for it, said, "I'll be damned if I
+think the poor dog was quite dead. It wasn't the _fever_ that ailed him,
+but the sight of the girl and her mother on the floor. I wonder how they
+all got into that room. What carried them there?"
+
+The other surlily muttered, "Their legs, to-be-sure."
+
+"But what should they hug together in one room for?"
+
+"To save us trouble, to-be-sure."
+
+"And I thank them with all my heart; but, damn it, it wasn't right to
+put him in his coffin before the breath was fairly gone. I thought the
+last look he gave me told me to stay a few minutes."
+
+"Pshaw! He could not live. The sooner dead the better for him; as well
+as for us. Did you mark how he eyed us when we carried away his wife and
+daughter? I never cried in my life, since I was knee-high, but curse me
+if I ever felt in better tune for the business than just then. Hey!"
+continued he, looking up, and observing me standing a few paces distant,
+and listening to their discourse; "what's wanted? Anybody dead?"
+
+I stayed not to answer or parley, but hurried forward. My joints
+trembled, and cold drops stood on my forehead. I was ashamed of my own
+infirmity; and, by vigorous efforts of my reason, regained some degree
+of composure. The evening had now advanced, and it behooved me to
+procure accommodation at some of the inns.
+
+These were easily distinguished by their _signs_, but many were without
+inhabitants. At length I lighted upon one, the hall of which was open
+and the windows lifted. After knocking for some time, a young girl
+appeared, with many marks of distress. In answer to my question, she
+answered that both her parents were sick, and that they could receive no
+one. I inquired, in vain, for any other tavern at which strangers might
+be accommodated. She knew of none such, and left me, on someone's
+calling to her from above, in the midst of my embarrassment. After a
+moment's pause, I returned, discomfited and perplexed, to the street.
+
+
+I proceeded, in a considerable degree, at random. At length I reached a
+spacious building in Fourth Street, which the signpost showed me to be
+an inn. I knocked loudly and often at the door. At length a female
+opened the window of the second story, and, in a tone of peevishness,
+demanded what I wanted. I told her that I wanted lodging.
+
+"Go hunt for it somewhere else," said she; "you'll find none here." I
+began to expostulate; but she shut the window with quickness, and left
+me to my own reflections.
+
+I began now to feel some regret at the journey I had taken. Never, in
+the depth of caverns or forests, was I equally conscious of loneliness.
+I was surrounded by the habitations of men; but I was destitute of
+associate or friend. I had money, but a horse-shelter, or a morsel of
+food, could not be purchased. I came for the purpose of relieving
+others, but stood in the utmost need myself. Even in health my condition
+was helpless and forlorn; but what would become of me should this fatal
+malady be contracted? To hope that an asylum would be afforded to a sick
+man, which was denied to one in health, was unreasonable.
+
+The first impulse which flowed from these reflections was to hasten back
+to _Malverton_; which, with sufficient diligence, I might hope to regain
+before the morning light. I could not, methought, return upon my steps
+with too much speed. I was prompted to run, as if the pest was rushing
+upon me and could be eluded only by the most precipitate flight.
+
+This impulse was quickly counteracted by new ideas. I thought with
+indignation and shame on the imbecility of my proceeding. I called up
+the images of Susan Hadwin, and of Wallace. I reviewed the motives which
+had led me to the undertaking of this journey. Time had, by no means,
+diminished their force. I had, indeed, nearly arrived at the
+accomplishment of what I had intended. A few steps would carry me to
+Thetford's habitation. This might be the critical moment when succour
+was most needed and would be most efficacious.
+
+I had previously concluded to defer going thither till the ensuing
+morning; but why should I allow myself a moment's delay? I might at
+least gain an external view of the house, and circumstances might arise
+which would absolve me from the obligation of remaining an hour longer
+in the city. All for which I came might be performed; the destiny of
+Wallace be ascertained; and I be once more safe within the precincts of
+_Malverton_ before the return of day.
+
+I immediately directed my steps towards the habitation of Thetford.
+Carriages bearing the dead were frequently discovered. A few passengers
+likewise occurred, whose hasty and perturbed steps denoted their
+participation in the common distress. The house of which I was in quest
+quickly appeared. Light from an upper window indicated that it was still
+inhabited.
+
+I paused a moment to reflect in what manner it became me to proceed. To
+ascertain the existence and condition of Wallace was the purpose of my
+journey. He had inhabited this house; and whether he remained in it was
+now to be known. I felt repugnance to enter, since my safety might, by
+entering, be unawares and uselessly endangered. Most of the neighbouring
+houses were apparently deserted. In some there were various tokens of
+people being within. Might I not inquire, at one of these, respecting
+the condition of Thetford's family? Yet why should I disturb them by
+inquiries so impertinent at this unseasonable hour? To knock at
+Thetford's door, and put my questions to him who should obey the signal,
+was the obvious method.
+
+I knocked dubiously and lightly. No one came. I knocked again, and more
+loudly; I likewise drew the bell. I distinctly heard its distant peals.
+If any were within, my signal could not fail to be noticed. I paused,
+and listened, but neither voice nor footsteps could be heard. The light,
+though obscured by window-curtains, which seemed to be drawn close, was
+still perceptible.
+
+I ruminated on the causes that might hinder my summons from being
+obeyed. I figured to myself nothing but the helplessness of disease, or
+the insensibility of death. These images only urged me to persist in
+endeavouring to obtain admission. Without weighing the consequences of
+my act, I involuntarily lifted the latch. The door yielded to my hand,
+and I put my feet within the passage.
+
+Once more I paused. The passage was of considerable extent, and at the
+end of it I perceived light as from a lamp or candle. This impelled me
+to go forward, till I reached the foot of a staircase. A candle stood
+upon the lowest step.
+
+This was a new proof that the house was not deserted. I struck my heel
+against the floor with some violence; but this, like my former signals,
+was unnoticed. Having proceeded thus far, it would have been absurd to
+retire with my purpose uneffected. Taking the candle in my hand, I
+opened a door that was near. It led into a spacious parlour, furnished
+with profusion and splendour. I walked to and fro, gazing at the objects
+which presented themselves; and, involved in perplexity, I knocked with
+my heel louder than ever; but no less ineffectually.
+
+Notwithstanding the lights which I had seen, it was possible that the
+house was uninhabited. This I was resolved to ascertain, by proceeding
+to the chamber which I had observed, from without, to be illuminated.
+This chamber, as far as the comparison of circumstances would permit me
+to decide, I believed to be the same in which I had passed the first
+night of my late abode in the city. Now was I, a second time, in almost
+equal ignorance of my situation, and of the consequences which impended,
+exploring my way to the same recess.
+
+I mounted the stair. As I approached the door of which I was in search,
+a vapour, infectious and deadly, assailed my senses. It resembled
+nothing of which I had ever before been sensible. Many odours had been
+met with, even since my arrival in the city, less supportable than this.
+I seemed not so much to smell as to taste the element that now
+encompassed me. I felt as if I had inhaled a poisonous and subtle fluid,
+whose power instantly bereft my stomach of all vigour. Some fatal
+influence appeared to seize upon my vitals, and the work of corrosion
+and decomposition to be busily begun.
+
+For a moment, I doubted whether imagination had not some share in
+producing my sensation; but I had not been previously panic-struck; and
+even now I attended to my own sensations without mental discomposure.
+That I had imbibed this disease was not to be questioned. So far the
+chances in my favour were annihilated. The lot of sickness was drawn.
+
+Whether my case would be lenient or malignant, whether I should recover
+or perish, was to be left to the decision of the future. This incident,
+instead of appalling me, tended rather to invigorate my courage. The
+danger which I feared had come. I might enter with indifference on this
+theatre of pestilence. I might execute, without faltering, the duties
+that my circumstances might create. My state was no longer hazardous;
+and my destiny would be totally uninfluenced by my future conduct.
+
+The pang with which I was first seized, and the momentary inclination to
+vomit, which it produced, presently subsided. My wholesome feelings,
+indeed, did not revisit me, but strength to proceed was restored to me.
+The effluvia became more sensible as I approached the door of the
+chamber. The door was ajar; and the light within was perceived. My
+belief that those within were dead was presently confuted by sound,
+which I first supposed to be that of steps moving quickly and timorously
+across the floor. This ceased, and was succeeded by sounds of different
+but inexplicable import.
+
+Having entered the apartment, I saw a candle on the hearth. A table was
+covered with vials and other apparatus of a sick-chamber. A bed stood on
+one side, the curtain of which was dropped at the foot, so as to conceal
+any one within. I fixed my eyes upon this object. There were sufficient
+tokens that some one lay upon the bed. Breath, drawn at long intervals;
+mutterings scarcely audible; and a tremulous motion in the bedstead,
+were fearful and intelligible indications.
+
+If my heart faltered, it must not be supposed that my trepidations arose
+from any selfish considerations. Wallace only, the object of my search,
+was present to my fancy. Pervaded with remembrance of the Hadwins; of
+the agonies which they had already endured; of the despair which would
+overwhelm the unhappy Susan when the death of her lover should be
+ascertained; observant of the lonely condition of this house, whence I
+could only infer that the sick had been denied suitable attendance; and
+reminded, by the symptoms that appeared, that this being was struggling
+with the agonies of death; a sickness of the heart, more insupportable
+than that which I had just experienced, stole upon me.
+
+My fancy readily depicted the progress and completion of this tragedy.
+Wallace was the first of the family on whom the pestilence had seized.
+Thetford had fled from his habitation. Perhaps as a father and husband,
+to shun the danger attending his stay was the injunction of his duty. It
+was questionless the conduct which selfish regards would dictate.
+Wallace was left to perish alone; or, perhaps, (which, indeed, was a
+supposition somewhat justified by appearances,) he had been left to the
+tendance of mercenary wretches; by whom, at this desperate moment, he
+had been abandoned.
+
+I was not mindless of the possibility that these forebodings, specious
+as they were, might be false. The dying person might be some other than
+Wallace. The whispers of my hope were, indeed, faint; but they, at
+least, prompted me to snatch a look at the expiring man. For this
+purpose I advanced and thrust my head within the curtain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+
+The features of one whom I had seen so transiently as Wallace may be
+imagined to be not easily recognised, especially when those features
+were tremulous and deathful. Here, however, the differences were too
+conspicuous to mislead me. I beheld one in whom I could recollect none
+that bore resemblance. Though ghastly and livid, the traces of
+intelligence and beauty were undefaced. The life of Wallace was of more
+value to a feeble individual; but surely the being that was stretched
+before me, and who was hastening to his last breath, was precious to
+thousands.
+
+Was he not one in whose place I would willingly have died? The offering
+was too late. His extremities were already cold. A vapour, noisome and
+contagious, hovered over him. The flutterings of his pulse had ceased.
+His existence was about to close amidst convulsion and pangs.
+
+I withdrew my gaze from this object, and walked to a table. I was nearly
+unconscious of my movements. My thoughts were occupied with
+contemplations of the train of horrors and disasters that pursue the
+race of man. My musings were quickly interrupted by the sight of a small
+cabinet, the hinges of which were broken and the lid half raised. In the
+present state of my thoughts, I was prone to suspect the worst. Here
+were traces of pillage. Some casual or mercenary attendant had not only
+contributed to hasten the death of the patient, but had rifled his
+property and fled.
+
+This suspicion would, perhaps, have yielded to mature reflections, if I
+had been suffered to reflect. A moment scarcely elapsed, when some
+appearance in the mirror, which hung over the table, called my
+attention. It was a human figure. Nothing could be briefer than the
+glance that I fixed upon this apparition; yet there was room enough for
+the vague conception to suggest itself, that the dying man had started
+from his bed and was approaching me. This belief was, at the same
+instant, confuted, by the survey of his form and garb. One eye, a scar
+upon his cheek, a tawny skin, a form grotesquely misproportioned, brawny
+as Hercules, and habited in livery, composed, as it were, the parts of
+one view.
+
+To perceive, to fear, and to confront this apparition were blended into
+one sentiment. I turned towards him with the swiftness of lightning; but
+my speed was useless to my safety. A blow upon my temple was succeeded
+by an utter oblivion of thought and of feeling. I sunk upon the floor
+prostrate and senseless.
+
+My insensibility might be mistaken by observers for death, yet some part
+of this interval was haunted by a fearful dream. I conceived myself
+lying on the brink of a pit, whose bottom the eye could not reach. My
+hands and legs were fettered, so as to disable me from resisting two
+grim and gigantic figures who stooped to lift me from the earth. Their
+purpose, methought, was to cast me into this abyss. My terrors were
+unspeakable, and I struggled with such force, that my bonds snapped and
+I found myself at liberty. At this moment my senses returned, and I
+opened my eyes.
+
+The memory of recent events was, for a time, effaced by my visionary
+horrors. I was conscious of transition from one state of being to
+another; but my imagination was still filled with images of danger. The
+bottomless gulf and my gigantic persecutors were still dreaded. I looked
+up with eagerness. Beside me I discovered three figures, whose character
+or office was explained by a coffin of pine boards which lay upon the
+floor. One stood with hammer and nails in his hand, as ready to replace
+and fasten the lid of the coffin as soon as its burden should be
+received.
+
+I attempted to rise from the floor, but my head was dizzy and my sight
+confused. Perceiving me revive, one of the men assisted me to regain my
+feet. The mist and confusion presently vanished, so as to allow me to
+stand unsupported and to move. I once more gazed at my attendants, and
+recognised the three men whom I had met in High Street, and whose
+conversation I have mentioned that I overheard. I looked again upon the
+coffin. A wavering recollection of the incidents that led me hither, and
+of the stunning blow which I had received, occurred to me. I saw into
+what error appearances had misled these men, and shuddered to reflect by
+what hairbreadth means I had escaped being buried alive.
+
+Before the men had time to interrogate me, or to comment upon my
+situation, one entered the apartment, whose habit and mien tended to
+encourage me. The stranger was characterized by an aspect full of
+composure and benignity, a face in which the serious lines of age were
+blended with the ruddiness and smoothness of youth, and a garb that
+bespoke that religious profession with whose benevolent doctrines the
+example of Hadwin had rendered me familiar.
+
+On observing me on my feet, he betrayed marks of surprise and
+satisfaction. He addressed me in a tone of mildness:--
+
+"Young man," said he, "what is thy condition? Art thou sick? If thou
+art, thou must consent to receive the best treatment which the times
+will afford. These men will convey thee to the hospital at Bush Hill."
+
+The mention of that contagious and abhorred receptacle inspired me with
+some degree of energy. "No," said I, "I am not sick; a violent blow
+reduced me to this situation. I shall presently recover strength enough
+to leave this spot without assistance."
+
+He looked at me with an incredulous but compassionate air:--"I fear thou
+dost deceive thyself or me. The necessity of going to the hospital is
+much to be regretted, but, on the whole, it is best. Perhaps, indeed,
+thou hast kindred or friends who will take care of thee?"
+
+"No," said I; "neither kindred nor friends. I am a stranger in the city.
+I do not even know a single being."
+
+"Alas!" returned the stranger, with a sigh, "thy state is sorrowful.
+But how camest thou hither?" continued he, looking around him; "and
+whence comest thou?"
+
+"I came from the country. I reached the city a few hours ago. I was in
+search of a friend who lived in this house."
+
+"Thy undertaking was strangely hazardous and rash; but who is the friend
+thou seekest? Was it he who died in that bed, and whose corpse has just
+been removed?"
+
+The men now betrayed some impatience; and inquired of the last comer,
+whom they called Mr. Estwick, what they were to do. He turned to me, and
+asked if I were willing to be conducted to the hospital.
+
+I assured him that I was free from disease, and stood in no need of
+assistance; adding, that my feebleness was owing to a stunning blow
+received from a ruffian on my temple. The marks of this blow were
+conspicuous, and after some hesitation he dismissed the men; who,
+lifting the empty coffin on their shoulders, disappeared.
+
+He now invited me to descend into the parlour; "for," said he, "the air
+of this room is deadly. I feel already as if I should have reason to
+repent of having entered it."
+
+He now inquired into the cause of those appearances which he had
+witnessed. I explained my situation as clearly and succinctly as I was
+able.
+
+After pondering, in silence, on my story,--"I see how it is," said he;
+"the person whom thou sawest in the agonies of death was a stranger. He
+was attended by his servant and a hired nurse. His master's death being
+certain, the nurse was despatched by the servant to procure a coffin. He
+probably chose that opportunity to rifle his master's trunk, that stood
+upon the table. Thy unseasonable entrance interrupted him; and he
+designed, by the blow which he gave thee, to secure his retreat before
+the arrival of a hearse. I know the man, and the apparition thou hast so
+well described was his. Thou sayest that a friend of thine lived in this
+house: thou hast come too late to be of service. The whole family have
+perished. Not one was suffered to escape."
+
+This intelligence was fatal to my hopes. It required some efforts to
+subdue my rising emotions. Compassion not only for Wallace, but for
+Thetford, his father, his wife and his child, caused a passionate
+effusion of tears. I was ashamed of this useless and childlike
+sensibility; and attempted to apologize to my companion. The sympathy,
+however, had proved contagious, and the stranger turned away his face to
+hide his own tears.
+
+"Nay," said he, in answer to my excuses, "there is no need to be ashamed
+of thy emotion. Merely to have known this family, and to have witnessed
+their deplorable fate, is sufficient to melt the most obdurate heart. I
+suspect that thou wast united to some one of this family by ties of
+tenderness like those which led the unfortunate _Maravegli_ hither."
+
+This suggestion was attended, in relation to myself, with some degree of
+obscurity; but my curiosity was somewhat excited by the name that he had
+mentioned, I inquired into the character and situation of this person,
+and particularly respecting his connection with this family.
+
+"Maravegli," answered he, "was the lover of the eldest daughter, and
+already betrothed to her. The whole family, consisting of helpless
+females, had placed themselves under his peculiar guardianship. Mary
+Walpole and her children enjoyed in him a husband and a father."
+
+The name of Walpole, to which I was a stranger, suggested doubts which I
+hastened to communicate. "I am in search," said I, "not of a female
+friend, though not devoid of interest in the welfare of Thetford and his
+family. My principal concern is for a youth, by name Wallace."
+
+He looked at me with surprise. "Thetford! this is not his abode. He
+changed his habitation some weeks previous to the _fever_. Those who
+last dwelt under this roof were an Englishwoman and seven daughters."
+
+This detection of my error somewhat consoled me. It was still possible
+that Wallace was alive and in safety. I eagerly inquired whither
+Thetford had removed, and whether he had any knowledge of his present
+condition.
+
+They had removed to No.--, in Market Street. Concerning their state he
+knew nothing. His acquaintance with Thetford was imperfect. Whether he
+had left the city or had remained, he was wholly uninformed.
+
+It became me to ascertain the truth in these respects. I was preparing
+to offer my parting thanks to the person by whom I had been so highly
+benefited; since, as he now informed me, it was by his interposition
+that I was hindered from being enclosed alive in a coffin. He was
+dubious of my true condition, and peremptorily commanded the followers
+of the hearse to desist. A delay of twenty minutes, and some medical
+application, would, he believed, determine whether my life was
+extinguished or suspended. At the end of this time, happily, my senses
+were recovered.
+
+Seeing my intention to depart, he inquired why, and whither I was going.
+Having heard my answer,--"Thy design," resumed he, "is highly indiscreet
+and rash. Nothing will sooner generate this fever than fatigue and
+anxiety. Thou hast scarcely recovered from the blow so lately received.
+Instead of being useful to others, this precipitation will only disable
+thyself. Instead of roaming the streets and inhaling this unwholesome
+air, thou hadst better betake thyself to bed and try to obtain some
+sleep. In the morning, thou wilt be better qualified to ascertain the
+fate of thy friend, and afford him the relief which he shall want."
+
+I could not but admit the reasonableness of these remonstrances; but
+where should a chamber and bed be sought? It was not likely that a new
+attempt to procure accommodation at the inns would succeed better than
+the former.
+
+"Thy state," replied he, "is sorrowful. I have no house to which I can
+lead thee. I divide my chamber, and even my bed, with another, and my
+landlady could not be prevailed upon to admit a stranger. What thou wilt
+do, I know not. This house has no one to defend it. It was purchased and
+furnished by the last possessor; but the whole family, including
+mistress, children, and servants, were cut off in a single week.
+Perhaps no one in America can claim the property. Meanwhile, plunderers
+are numerous and active. A house thus totally deserted, and replenished
+with valuable furniture, will, I fear, become their prey. To-night
+nothing can be done towards rendering it secure, but staying in it. Art
+thou willing to remain here till the morrow?
+
+"Every bed in the house has probably sustained a dead person. It would
+not be proper, therefore, to lie in any one of them. Perhaps thou mayest
+find some repose upon this carpet. It is, at least, better than the
+harder pavement and the open air."
+
+This proposal, after some hesitation, I embraced. He was preparing to
+leave me, promising, if life were spared to him, to return early in the
+morning. My curiosity respecting the person whose dying agonies I had
+witnessed prompted me to detain him a few minutes.
+
+"Ah!" said he, "this, perhaps, is the only one of many victims to this
+pestilence whose loss the remotest generations may have reason to
+deplore. He was the only descendant of an illustrious house of Venice.
+He has been devoted from his childhood to the acquisition of knowledge
+and the practice of virtue. He came hither as an enlightened observer;
+and, after traversing the country, conversing with all the men in it
+eminent for their talents or their office, and collecting a fund of
+observations whose solidity and justice have seldom been paralleled, he
+embarked, three months ago, for Europe.
+
+"Previously to his departure, he formed a tender connection with the
+eldest daughter of this family. The mother and her children had recently
+arrived from England. So many faultless women, both mentally and
+personally considered, it was not my fortune to meet with before. This
+youth well deserved to be adopted into this family. He proposed to
+return with the utmost expedition to his native country, and, after the
+settlement of his affairs, to hasten back to America and ratify his
+contract with Fanny Walpole.
+
+"The ship in which he embarked had scarcely gone twenty leagues to sea,
+before she was disabled by a storm, and obliged to return to port. He
+posted to New York, to gain a passage in a packet shortly to sail.
+Meanwhile this malady prevailed among us. Mary Walpole pole was hindered
+by her ignorance of the nature of that evil which assailed us, and the
+counsel of injudicious friends, from taking the due precautions for her
+safety. She hesitated to fly till flight was rendered impracticable. Her
+death added to the helplessness and distraction of the family. They were
+successively seized and destroyed by the same pest.
+
+"Maravegli was apprized of their danger. He allowed the packet to depart
+without him, and hastened to rescue the Walpoles from the perils which
+encompassed them. He arrived in this city time enough to witness the
+interment of the last survivor. In the same hour he was seized himself
+by this disease: the catastrophe is known to thee.
+
+"I will now leave thee to thy repose. Sleep is no less needful to myself
+than to thee; for this is the second night which has passed without it."
+Saying this, my companion took his leave.
+
+I now enjoyed leisure to review my situation. I experienced no
+inclination to sleep. I lay down for a moment, but my comfortless
+sensations and restless contemplations would not permit me to rest.
+Before I entered this house, I was tormented with hunger; but my craving
+had given place to inquietude and loathing. I paced, in thoughtful and
+anxious mood, across the floor of the apartment.
+
+I mused upon the incidents related by Estwick, upon the exterminating
+nature of this pestilence, and on the horrors of which it was
+productive. I compared the experience of the last hours with those
+pictures which my imagination had drawn in the retirements of
+_Malverton_. I wondered at the contrariety that exists between the
+scenes of the city and the country; and fostered, with more zeal than
+ever, the resolution to avoid those seats of depravity and danger.
+
+Concerning my own destiny, however, I entertained no doubt. My new
+sensations assured me that my stomach had received this corrosive
+poison. Whether I should die or live was easily decided. The sickness
+which assiduous attendance and powerful prescriptions might remove
+would, by negligence and solitude, be rendered fatal; but from whom
+could I expect medical or friendly treatment?
+
+I had indeed a roof over my head. I should not perish in the public way;
+but what was my ground for hoping to continue under this roof? My
+sickness being suspected, I should be dragged in a cart to the hospital;
+where I should, indeed, die, but not with the consolation of loneliness
+and silence. Dying groans were the only music, and livid corpses were
+the only spectacle, to which I should there be introduced.
+
+Immured in these dreary meditations, the night passed away. The light
+glancing through the window awakened in my bosom a gleam of
+cheerfulness. Contrary to my expectations, my feelings were not more
+distempered, notwithstanding my want of sleep, than on the last evening.
+This was a token that my state was far from being so desperate as I
+suspected. It was possible, I thought, that this was the worst
+indisposition to which I was liable.
+
+Meanwhile, the coming of Estwick was impatiently expected. The sun
+arose, and the morning advanced, but he came not. I remembered that he
+talked of having reason to repent his visit to this house. Perhaps he,
+likewise, was sick, and this was the cause of his delay. This man's
+kindness had even my love. If I had known the way to his dwelling, I
+should have hastened thither, to inquire into his condition, and to
+perform for him every office that humanity might enjoin; but he had not
+afforded me any information on that head.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+
+It was now incumbent on me to seek the habitation of Thetford. To leave
+this house accessible to every passenger appeared to be imprudent. I had
+no key by which I might lock the principal door. I therefore bolted it
+on the inside, and passed through a window, the shutters of which I
+closed, though I could not fasten after me. This led me into a spacious
+court, at the end of which was a brick wall, over which I leaped into
+the street. This was the means by which I had formerly escaped from the
+same precincts.
+
+The streets, as I passed, were desolate and silent. The largest
+computation made the number of fugitives two-thirds of the whole people;
+yet, judging by the universal desolation, it seemed as if the solitude
+were nearly absolute. That so many of the houses were closed, I was
+obliged to ascribe to the cessation of traffic, which made the opening
+of their windows useless, and the terror of infection, which made the
+inhabitants seclude themselves from the observation of each other.
+
+I proceeded to search out the house to which Estwick had directed me as
+the abode of Thetford. What was my consternation when I found it to be
+the same at the door of which the conversation took place of which I had
+been an auditor on the last evening!
+
+I recalled the scene of which a rude sketch had been given by the
+_hearse-men_. If such were the fate of the master of the family,
+abounding with money and friends, what could be hoped for the moneyless
+and friendless Wallace? The house appeared to be vacant and silent; but
+these tokens might deceive. There was little room for hope; but
+certainty was wanting, and might, perhaps, be obtained by entering the
+house. In some of the upper rooms a wretched being might be immured; by
+whom the information, so earnestly desired, might be imparted, and to
+whom my presence might bring relief, not only from pestilence, but
+famine. For a moment, I forgot my own necessitous condition, and
+reflected not that abstinence had already undermined my strength.
+
+I proceeded to knock at the door. That my signal was unnoticed produced
+no surprise. The door was unlocked, and I opened. At this moment my
+attention was attracted by the opening of another door near me. I
+looked, and perceived a man issuing forth from a house at a small
+distance.
+
+It now occurred to me, that the information which I sought might
+possibly be gained from one of Thetford's neighbours. This person was
+aged, but seemed to have lost neither cheerfulness nor vigour. He had an
+air of intrepidity and calmness. It soon appeared that I was the object
+of his curiosity. He had, probably, marked my deportment through some
+window of his dwelling, and had come forth to make inquiries into the
+motives of my conduct.
+
+He courteously saluted me. "You seem," said he, "to be in search of some
+one. If I can afford you the information you want, you will be welcome
+to it."
+
+Encouraged by this address, I mentioned the name of Thetford; and added
+my fears that he had not escaped the general calamity.
+
+"It is true," said he. "Yesterday himself, his wife, and his child, were
+in a hopeless condition. I saw them in the evening, and expected not to
+find them alive this morning. As soon as it was light, however, I
+visited the house again; but found it empty. I suppose they must have
+died, and been removed in the night."
+
+Though anxious to ascertain the destiny of Wallace, I was unwilling to
+put direct questions. I shuddered, while I longed to know the truth.
+
+"Why," said I, falteringly, "did he not seasonably withdraw from the
+city? Surely he had the means of purchasing an asylum in the country."
+
+"I can scarcely tell you," he answered. "Some infatuation appeared to
+have seized him. No one was more timorous; but he seemed to think
+himself safe as long as he avoided contact with infected persons. He was
+likewise, I believe, detained by a regard to his interest. His flight
+would not have been more injurious to his affairs than it was to those
+of others; but gain was, in his eyes, the supreme good. He intended
+ultimately to withdraw; but his escape to-day, gave him new courage to
+encounter the perils of to-morrow. He deferred his departure from day to
+day, till it ceased to be practicable."
+
+"His family," said I, "was numerous. It consisted of more than his wife
+and children. Perhaps these retired in sufficient season."
+
+"Yes," said he; "his father left the house at an early period. One or
+two of the servants likewise forsook him. One girl, more faithful and
+heroic than the rest, resisted the remonstrances of her parents and
+friends, and resolved to adhere to him in every fortune. She was anxious
+that the family should fly from danger, and would willingly have fled in
+their company; but while they stayed, it was her immovable resolution
+not to abandon them.
+
+"Alas, poor girl! She knew not of what stuff the heart of Thetford was
+made. Unhappily, she was the first to become sick. I question much
+whether her disease was pestilential. It was, probably, a slight
+indisposition, which, in a few days, would have vanished of itself, or
+have readily yielded to suitable treatment.
+
+"Thetford was transfixed with terror. Instead of summoning a physician,
+to ascertain the nature of her symptoms, he called a negro and his cart
+from Bush Hill. In vain the neighbours interceded for this unhappy
+victim. In vain she implored his clemency, and asserted the lightness of
+her indisposition. She besought him to allow her to send to her mother,
+who resided a few miles in the country, who would hasten to her succour,
+and relieve him and his family from the danger and trouble of nursing
+her.
+
+"The man was lunatic with apprehension. He rejected her entreaties,
+though urged in a manner that would have subdued a heart of flint. The
+girl was innocent, and amiable, and courageous, but entertained an
+unconquerable dread of the hospital. Finding entreaties ineffectual, she
+exerted all her strength in opposition to the man who lifted her into
+the cart.
+
+"Finding that her struggles availed nothing, she resigned herself to
+despair. In going to the hospital, she believed herself led to certain
+death, and to the sufferance of every evil which the known inhumanity of
+its attendants could inflict. This state of mind, added to exposure to a
+noonday sun, in an open vehicle, moving, for a mile, over a rugged
+pavement, was sufficient to destroy her. I was not surprised to hear
+that she died the next day.
+
+"This proceeding was sufficiently iniquitous; yet it was not the worst
+act of this man. The rank and education of the young woman might be some
+apology for negligence; but his clerk, a youth who seemed to enjoy his
+confidence, and to be treated by his family on the footing of a brother
+or son, fell sick on the next night, and was treated in the same
+manner."
+
+These tidings struck me to the heart. A burst of indignation and sorrow
+filled my eyes. I could scarcely stifle my emotions sufficiently to ask,
+"Of whom, sir, do you speak? Was the name of the youth--his
+name--was----"
+
+"His name was Wallace. I see that you have some interest in his fate. He
+was one whom I loved. I would have given half my fortune to procure him
+accommodation under some hospitable roof. His attack was violent; but,
+still, his recovery, if he had been suitably attended, was possible.
+That he should survive removal to the hospital, and the treatment he
+must receive when there, was not to be hoped.
+
+"The conduct of Thetford was as absurd as it was wicked. To imagine the
+disease to be contagious was the height of folly; to suppose himself
+secure, merely by not permitting a sick man to remain under his roof,
+was no less stupid; but Thetford's fears had subverted his
+understanding. He did not listen to arguments or supplications. His
+attention was incapable of straying from one object. To influence him by
+words was equivalent to reasoning with the deaf.
+
+"Perhaps the wretch was more to be pitied than hated. The victims of his
+implacable caution could scarcely have endured agonies greater than
+those which his pusillanimity inflicted on himself. Whatever be the
+amount of his guilt, the retribution has been adequate. He witnessed the
+death of his wife and child, and last night was the close of his own
+existence. Their sole attendant was a black woman; whom, by frequent
+visits, I endeavoured, with little success, to make diligent in the
+performance of her duty."
+
+Such, then, was the catastrophe of Wallace. The end for which I
+journeyed hither was accomplished. His destiny was ascertained; and all
+that remained was to fulfil the gloomy predictions of the lovely but
+unhappy Susan. To tell them all the truth would be needlessly to
+exasperate her sorrow. Time, aided by the tenderness and sympathy of
+friendship, may banish her despair, and relieve her from all but the
+witcheries of melancholy.
+
+Having disengaged my mind from these reflections, I explained to my
+companion, in general terms, my reasons for visiting the city, and my
+curiosity respecting. Thetford. He inquired into the particulars of my
+journey, and the time of my arrival. When informed that I had come in
+the preceding evening, and had passed the subsequent hours without sleep
+or food, he expressed astonishment and compassion.
+
+"Your undertaking," said he, "has certainly been hazardous. There is
+poison in every breath which you draw, but this hazard has been greatly
+increased by abstaining from food and sleep. My advice is to hasten back
+into the country; but you must first take some repose and some victuals.
+If you pass Schuylkill before nightfall, it will be sufficient."
+
+I mentioned the difficulty of procuring accommodation on the road. It
+would be most prudent to set out upon my journey so as to reach
+_Malverton_ at night. As to food and sleep, they were not to be
+purchased in this city.
+
+"True," answered my companion, with quickness, "they are not to be
+bought; but I will furnish you with as much as you desire of both, for
+nothing. That is my abode," continued he, pointing to the house which he
+had lately left. "I reside with a widow lady and her daughter, who took
+my counsel, and fled in due season. I remain to moralize upon the scene,
+with only a faithful black, who makes my bed, prepares my coffee, and
+bakes my loaf. If I am sick, all that a physician can do, I will do for
+myself, and all that a nurse can perform, I expect to be performed by
+_Austin_.
+
+"Come with me, drink some coffee, rest a while on my mattress, and then
+fly, with my benedictions on your head."
+
+These words were accompanied by features disembarrassed and benevolent.
+My temper is alive to social impulses, and I accepted his invitation,
+not so much because I wished to eat or to sleep, but because I felt
+reluctance to part so soon with a being who possessed so much fortitude
+and virtue.
+
+He was surrounded by neatness and plenty. Austin added dexterity to
+submissiveness. My companion, whose name I now found to be Medlicote,
+was prone to converse, and commented on the state of the city like one
+whose reading had been extensive and experience large. He combated an
+opinion which I had casually formed respecting the origin of this
+epidemic, and imputed it, not to infected substances imported from the
+East or West, but to a morbid constitution of the atmosphere, owing
+wholly or in part to filthy streets, airless habitations, and squalid
+persons.
+
+As I talked with this man, the sense of danger was obliterated, I felt
+confidence revive in my heart, and energy revisit my stomach. Though far
+from my wonted health, my sensation grew less comfortless, and I found
+myself to stand in no need of repose.
+
+Breakfast being finished, my friend pleaded his daily engagements as
+reasons for leaving me. He counselled me to strive for some repose, but
+I was conscious of incapacity to sleep. I was desirous of escaping, as
+soon as possible, from this tainted atmosphere, and reflected whether
+any thing remained to be done respecting Wallace.
+
+It now occurred to me that this youth must have left some clothes and
+papers, and, perhaps, books. The property of these was now vested in the
+Hadwins. I might deem myself, without presumption, their representative
+or agent. Might I not take some measures for obtaining possession, or at
+least for the security, of these articles?
+
+The house and its furniture were tenantless and unprotected. It was
+liable to be ransacked and pillaged by those desperate ruffians of whom
+many were said to be hunting for spoil even at a time like this. If
+these should overlook this dwelling, Thetford's unknown successor or
+heir might appropriate the whole. Numberless accidents might happen to
+occasion the destruction or embezzlement of what belonged to Wallace,
+which might be prevented by the conduct which I should now pursue.
+
+Immersed in these perplexities, I remained bewildered and motionless. I
+was at length roused by some one knocking at the door. Austin obeyed the
+signal, and instantly returned, leading in--Mr. Hadwin!
+
+I know not whether this unlooked-for interview excited on my part most
+grief or surprise. The motive of his coming was easily divined. His
+journey was on two accounts superfluous. He whom he sought was dead. The
+duty of ascertaining his condition I had assigned to myself.
+
+I now perceived and deplored the error of which I had been guilty, in
+concealing my intended journey from my patron. Ignorant of the part I
+had acted, he had rushed into the jaws of this pest, and endangered a
+life unspeakably valuable to his children and friends. I should
+doubtless have obtained his grateful consent to the project which I had
+conceived; but my wretched policy had led me into this clandestine path.
+Secrecy may seldom be a crime. A virtuous intention may produce it; but
+surely it is always erroneous and pernicious.
+
+My friend's astonishment at the sight of me was not inferior to my own.
+The causes which led to this unexpected interview were mutually
+explained. To soothe the agonies of his child, he consented to approach
+the city, and endeavour to procure intelligence of Wallace. When he
+left his house, he intended to stop in the environs, and hire some
+emissary, whom an ample reward might tempt to enter the city, and
+procure the information which was needed.
+
+No one could be prevailed upon to execute so dangerous a service. Averse
+to return without performing his commission, he concluded to examine for
+himself. Thetford's removal to this street was known to him; but, being
+ignorant of my purpose, he had not mentioned this circumstance to me,
+during our last conversation.
+
+I was sensible of the danger which Hadwin had incurred by entering the
+city. Perhaps my knowledge of the inexpressible importance of his life
+to the happiness of his daughters made me aggravate his danger. I knew
+that the longer he lingered in this tainted air, the hazard was
+increased. A moment's delay was unnecessary. Neither Wallace nor myself
+were capable of being benefited by his presence.
+
+I mentioned the death of his nephew as a reason for hastening his
+departure. I urged him in the most vehement terms to remount his horse
+and to fly; I endeavoured to preclude all inquiries respecting myself or
+Wallace; promising to follow him immediately, and answer all his
+questions at _Malverton_. My importunities were enforced by his own
+fears, and, after a moment's hesitation, he rode away.
+
+The emotions produced by this incident were, in the present critical
+state of my frame, eminently hurtful. My morbid indications suddenly
+returned. I had reason to ascribe my condition to my visit to the
+chamber of Maravegli; but this and its consequences to myself, as well
+as the journey of Hadwin, were the fruits of my unhappy secrecy.
+
+I had always been accustomed to perform my journeys on foot. This, on
+ordinary occasions, was the preferable method, but now I ought to have
+adopted the easiest and swiftest means. If Hadwin had been acquainted
+with my purpose he would not only have approved, but would have allowed
+me, the use of a horse. These reflections were rendered less pungent by
+the recollection that my motives were benevolent, and that I had
+endeavoured the benefit of others by means which appeared to me most
+suitable.
+
+Meanwhile, how was I to proceed? What hindered me from pursuing the
+footsteps of Hadwin with all the expedition which my uneasiness, of
+brain and stomach, would allow? I conceived that to leave any thing
+undone, with regard to Wallace, would be absurd. His property might be
+put under the care of my new friend. But how was it to be distinguished
+from the property of others? It was, probably, contained in trunks,
+which were designated by some label or mark. I was unacquainted with his
+chamber, but, by passing from one to the other, I might finally discover
+it. Some token, directing my footsteps, might occur, though at present
+unforeseen.
+
+Actuated by these considerations, I once more entered Thetford's
+habitation. I regretted that I had not procured the counsel or
+attendance of my new friend; but some engagements, the nature of which
+he did not explain, occasioned him to leave me as soon as breakfast was
+finished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+
+I wandered over this deserted mansion, in a considerable degree, at
+random. Effluvia of a pestilential nature assailed me from every corner.
+In the front room of the second story, I imagined that I discovered
+vestiges of that catastrophe which the past night had produced. The bed
+appeared as if some one had recently been dragged from it. The sheets
+were tinged with yellow, and with that substance which is said to be
+characteristic of this disease, the gangrenous or black vomit. The floor
+exhibited similar stains.
+
+There are many who will regard my conduct as the last refinement of
+temerity, or of heroism. Nothing, indeed, more perplexes me than a
+review of my own conduct. Not, indeed, that death is an object always to
+be dreaded, or that my motive did not justify my actions; but of all
+dangers, those allied to pestilence, by being mysterious and unseen, are
+the most formidable. To disarm them of their terrors requires the
+longest familiarity. Nurses and physicians soonest become intrepid or
+indifferent; but the rest of mankind recoil from the scene with
+unconquerable loathing.
+
+I was sustained, not by confidence of safety, and a belief of exemption
+from this malady, or by the influence of habit, which inures us to all
+that is detestable or perilous, but by a belief that this was as
+eligible an avenue to death as any other; and that life is a trivial
+sacrifice in the cause of duty.
+
+I passed from one room to the other. A portmanteau, marked with the
+initials of Wallace's name, at length attracted my notice. From this
+circumstance I inferred that this apartment had been occupied by him.
+The room was neatly arranged, and appeared as if no one had lately used
+it. There were trunks and drawers. That which I have mentioned was the
+only one that bore marks of Wallace's ownership. This I lifted in my
+arms with a view to remove it to Medlicote's house.
+
+At that moment, methought I heard a footstep slowly and lingeringly
+ascending the stair. I was disconcerted at this incident. The footstep
+had in it a ghost-like solemnity and tardiness. This phantom vanished in
+a moment, and yielded place to more humble conjectures. A human being
+approached, whose office and commission were inscrutable. That we were
+strangers to each other was easily imagined; but how would my
+appearance, in this remote chamber, and loaded with another's property,
+be interpreted? Did he enter the house after me, or was he the tenant of
+some chamber hitherto unvisited; whom my entrance had awakened from his
+trance and called from his couch?
+
+In the confusion of my mind, I still held my burden uplifted. To have
+placed it on the floor, and encountered this visitant, without this
+equivocal token about me, was the obvious proceeding. Indeed, time only
+could decide whether these footsteps tended to this, or to some other,
+apartment.
+
+My doubts were quickly dispelled. The door opened, and a figure glided
+in. The portmanteau dropped from my arms, and my heart's blood was
+chilled. If an apparition of the dead were possible, (and that
+possibility I could not deny,) this was such an apparition. A hue,
+yellowish and livid; bones, uncovered with flesh; eyes, ghastly, hollow,
+woe-begone, and fixed in an agony of wonder upon me; and locks, matted
+and negligent, constituted the image which I now beheld. My belief of
+somewhat preternatural in this appearance was confirmed by recollection
+of resemblances between these features and those of one who was dead. In
+this shape and visage, shadowy and death-like as they were, the
+lineaments of Wallace, of him who had misled my rustic simplicity on my
+first visit to this city, and whose death I had conceived to be
+incontestably ascertained, were forcibly recognised.
+
+This recognition, which at first alarmed my superstition, speedily led
+to more rational inferences. Wallace had been dragged to the hospital.
+Nothing was less to be suspected than that he would return alive from
+that hideous receptacle, but this was by no means impossible. The figure
+that stood before me had just risen from the bed of sickness, and from
+the brink of the grave. The crisis of his malady had passed, and he was
+once more entitled to be ranked among the living.
+
+This event, and the consequences which my imagination connected with it,
+filled me with the liveliest joy. I thought not of his ignorance of the
+causes of my satisfaction, of the doubts to which the circumstances of
+our interview would give birth, respecting the integrity of my purpose.
+I forgot the artifices by which I had formerly been betrayed, and the
+embarrassments which a meeting with the victim of his artifices would
+excite in him; I thought only of the happiness which his recovery would
+confer upon his uncle and his cousins.
+
+I advanced towards him with an air of congratulation, and offered him my
+hand. He shrunk back, and exclaimed, in a feeble voice, "Who are you?
+What business have you here?"
+
+"I am the friend of Wallace, if he will allow me to be so. I am a
+messenger from your uncle and cousins at _Malverton_. I came to know the
+cause of your silence, and to afford you any assistance in my power."
+
+He continued to regard me with an air of suspicion and doubt. These I
+endeavoured to remove by explaining the motives that led me hither. It
+was with difficulty that he seemed to credit my representations. When
+thoroughly convinced of the truth of my assertions, he inquired with
+great anxiety and tenderness concerning his relations; and expressed his
+hope that they were ignorant of what had befallen him.
+
+I could not encourage his hopes. I regretted my own precipitation in
+adopting the belief of his death. This belief had been uttered with
+confidence, and without stating my reasons for embracing it, to Mr.
+Hadwin. These tidings would be borne to his daughters, and their grief
+would be exasperated to a deplorable and perhaps to a fatal degree.
+
+There was but one method of repairing or eluding this mischief.
+Intelligence ought to be conveyed to them of his recovery. But where was
+the messenger to be found? No one's attention could be found disengaged
+from his own concerns. Those who were able or willing to leave the city
+had sufficient motives for departure, in relation to themselves. If
+vehicle or horse were procurable for money, ought it not to be secured
+for the use of Wallace himself, whose health required the easiest and
+speediest conveyance from this theatre of death?
+
+My companion was powerless in mind as in limbs. He seemed unable to
+consult upon the means of escaping from the inconveniences by which he
+was surrounded. As soon as sufficient strength was regained, he had left
+the hospital. To repair to _Malverton_ was the measure which prudence
+obviously dictated; but he was hopeless of effecting it. The city was
+close at hand; this was his usual home; and hither his tottering and
+almost involuntary steps conducted him.
+
+He listened to my representations and counsels, and acknowledged their
+propriety. He put himself under my protection and guidance, and promised
+to conform implicitly to my directions. His strength had sufficed to
+bring him thus far, but was now utterly exhausted. The task of searching
+for a carriage and horse devolved upon me.
+
+In effecting this purpose, I was obliged to rely upon my own ingenuity
+and diligence. Wallace, though so long a resident in the city, knew not
+to whom I could apply, or by whom carriages were let to hire. My own
+reflections taught me, that this accommodation was most likely to be
+furnished by innkeepers, or that some of those might at least inform me
+of the best measures to be taken. I resolved to set out immediately on
+this search. Meanwhile, Wallace was persuaded to take refuge in
+Medlicote's apartments; and to make, by the assistance of Austin, the
+necessary preparation for his journey.
+
+The morning had now advanced. The rays of a sultry sun had a sickening
+and enfeebling influence beyond any which I had ever experienced. The
+drought of unusual duration had bereft the air and the earth of every
+particle of moisture. The element which I breathed appeared to have
+stagnated into noxiousness and putrefaction. I was astonished at
+observing the enormous diminution of my strength. My brows were heavy,
+my intellects benumbed, my sinews enfeebled, and my sensations
+universally unquiet.
+
+These prognostics were easily interpreted. What I chiefly dreaded was,
+that they would disable me from executing the task which I had
+undertaken. I summoned up all my resolution, and cherished a disdain of
+yielding to this ignoble destiny. I reflected that the source of all
+energy, and even of life, is seated in thought; that nothing is arduous
+to human efforts; that the external frame will seldom languish, while
+actuated by an unconquerable soul.
+
+I fought against my dreary feelings, which pulled me to the earth. I
+quickened my pace, raised my drooping eyelids, and hummed a cheerful and
+favourite air. For all that I accomplished during this day, I believe
+myself indebted to the strenuousness and ardour of my resolutions.
+
+I went from one tavern to another. One was deserted; in another the
+people were sick, and their attendants refused to hearken to my
+inquiries or offers; at a third, their horses were engaged. I was
+determined to prosecute my search as long as an inn or a livery-stable
+remained unexamined, and my strength would permit.
+
+To detail the events of this expedition, the arguments and supplications
+which I used to overcome the dictates of avarice and fear, the
+fluctuation of my hopes and my incessant disappointments, would be
+useless. Having exhausted all my expedients ineffectually, I was
+compelled to turn my weary steps once more to Medlicote's lodgings.
+
+My meditations were deeply engaged by the present circumstances of my
+situation. Since the means which were first suggested were
+impracticable, I endeavoured to investigate others. Wallace's debility
+made it impossible for him to perform this journey on foot; but would
+not his strength and his resolution suffice to carry him beyond
+Schuylkill? A carriage or horse, though not to be obtained in the city,
+could, without difficulty, be procured in the country. Every farmer had
+beasts for burden and draught. One of these might be hired, at no
+immoderate expense, for half a day.
+
+This project appeared so practicable and so specious, that I deeply
+regretted the time and the efforts which had already been so fruitlessly
+expended. If my project, however, had been mischievous, to review it
+with regret was only to prolong and to multiply its mischiefs. I trusted
+that time and strength would not be wanting to the execution of this new
+design.
+
+On entering Medlicote's house, my looks, which, in spite of my languors,
+were sprightly and confident, flattered Wallace with the belief that my
+exertions had succeeded. When acquainted with their failure, he sunk as
+quickly into hopelessness. My new expedient was heard by him with no
+marks of satisfaction. It was impossible, he said, to move from this
+spot by his own strength. All his powers were exhausted by his walk from
+Bush Hill.
+
+I endeavoured, by arguments and railleries, to revive his courage. The
+pure air of the country would exhilarate him into new life. He might
+stop at every fifty yards, and rest upon the green sod. If overtaken by
+the night, we would procure a lodging, by address and importunity; but,
+if every door should be shut against us, we should at least enjoy the
+shelter of some barn, and might diet wholesomely upon the new-laid eggs
+that we should find there. The worst treatment we could meet with was
+better than continuance in the city.
+
+These remonstrances had some influence, and he at length consented to
+put his ability to the test. First, however, it was necessary to
+invigorate himself by a few hours' rest. To this, though with infinite
+reluctance, I consented.
+
+This interval allowed him to reflect upon the past, and to inquire into
+the fate of Thetford and his family. The intelligence which Medlicote
+had enabled me to afford him was heard with more satisfaction than
+regret. The ingratitude and cruelty with which he had been treated
+seemed to have extinguished every sentiment but hatred and vengeance. I
+was willing to profit by this interval to know more of Thetford than I
+already possessed. I inquired why Wallace had so perversely neglected
+the advice of his uncle and cousin, and persisted to brave so many
+dangers when flight was so easy.
+
+"I cannot justify my conduct," answered he. "It was in the highest
+degree thoughtless and perverse. I was confident and unconcerned as long
+as our neighbourhood was free from disease, and as long as I forbore any
+communication with the sick; yet I should have withdrawn to Malverton,
+merely to gratify my friends, if Thetford had not used the most powerful
+arguments to detain me. He laboured to extenuate the danger.
+
+"'Why not stay,' said he, 'as long as I and my family stay? Do you think
+that we would linger here, if the danger were imminent? As soon as it
+becomes so, we will fly. You know that we have a country-house prepared
+for our reception. When we go, you shall accompany us. Your services at
+this time are indispensable to my affairs. If you will not desert me,
+your salary next year shall be double; and that will enable you to marry
+your cousin immediately. Nothing is more improbable than that any of us
+should be sick; but, if this should happen to you, I plight my honour
+that you shall be carefully and faithfully attended.'
+
+"These assurances were solemn and generous. To make Susan Hadwin my wife
+was the scope of all my wishes and labours. By staying, I should hasten
+this desirable event, and incur little hazard. By going, I should
+alienate the affections of Thetford; by whom, it is but justice to
+acknowledge, that I had hitherto been treated with unexampled generosity
+and kindness; and blast all the schemes I had formed for rising into
+wealth.
+
+"My resolution was by no means steadfast. As often as a letter from
+_Malverton_ arrived, I felt myself disposed to hasten away; but this
+inclination was combated by new arguments and new entreaties of
+Thetford.
+
+"In this state of suspense, the girl by whom Mrs. Thetford's infant was
+nursed fell sick. She was an excellent creature, and merited better
+treatment than she received. Like me, she resisted the persuasions of
+her friends, but her motives for remaining were disinterested and
+heroic.
+
+"No sooner did her indisposition appear, than she was hurried to the
+hospital. I saw that no reliance could be placed upon the assurances of
+Thetford. Every consideration gave way to his fear of death. After the
+girl's departure, though he knew that she was led by his means to
+execution, yet he consoled himself by repeating and believing her
+assertions, that her disease was not _the fever_.
+
+"I was now greatly alarmed for my own safety. I was determined to
+encounter his anger and repel his persuasions; and to depart with the
+market-man next morning. That night, however, I was seized with a
+violent fever. I knew in what manner patients were treated at the
+hospital, and removal thither was to the last degree abhorred.
+
+"The morning arrived, and my situation was discovered. At the first
+intimation, Thetford rushed out of the house, and refused to re-enter it
+till I was removed. I knew not my fate, till three ruffians made their
+appearance at my bedside, and communicated their commission.
+
+"I called on the name of Thetford and his wife. I entreated a moment's
+delay, till I had seen these persons, and endeavoured to procure a
+respite from my sentence. They were deaf to my entreaties, and prepared
+to execute their office by force. I was delirious with rage and terror.
+I heaped the bitterest execrations on my murderer; and by turns, invoked
+the compassion of, and poured a torrent of reproaches on, the wretches
+whom he had selected for his ministers. My struggles and outcries were
+vain.
+
+"I have no perfect recollection of what passed till my arrival at the
+hospital. My passions combined with my disease to make me frantic and
+wild. In a state like mine, the slightest motion could not be endured
+without agony. What then must I have felt, scorched and dazzled by the
+sun, sustained by hard boards, and borne for miles over a rugged
+pavement?
+
+"I cannot make you comprehend the anguish of my feelings. To be
+disjointed and torn piecemeal by the rack was a torment inexpressibly
+inferior to this. Nothing excites my wonder but that I did not expire
+before the cart had moved three paces.
+
+"I knew not how, or by whom, I was moved from this vehicle.
+Insensibility came at length to my relief. After a time I opened my
+eyes, and slowly gained some knowledge of my situation. I lay upon a
+mattress, whose condition proved that a half-decayed corpse had recently
+been dragged from it. The room was large, but it was covered with beds
+like my own. Between each, there was scarcely the interval of three
+feet. Each sustained a wretch, whose groans and distortions bespoke the
+desperateness of his condition.
+
+"The atmosphere was loaded by mortal stenches. A vapour, suffocating and
+malignant, scarcely allowed me to breathe. No suitable receptacle was
+provided for the evacuations produced by medicine or disease. My nearest
+neighbour was struggling with death, and my bed, casually extended, was
+moist with the detestable matter which had flowed from his stomach.
+
+"You will scarcely believe that, in this scene of horrors, the sound of
+laughter should be overheard. While the upper rooms of this building are
+filled with the sick and the dying, the lower apartments are the scene
+of carousals and mirth. The wretches who are hired, at enormous wages,
+to tend the sick and convey away the dead, neglect their duty, and
+consume the cordials which are provided for the patients, in debauchery
+and riot.
+
+"A female visage, bloated with malignity and drunkenness, occasionally
+looked in. Dying eyes were cast upon her, invoking the boon, perhaps, of
+a drop of cold water, or her assistance to change a posture which
+compelled him to behold the ghastly writhings or deathful _smile_ of his
+neighbour.
+
+"The visitant had left the banquet for a moment, only to see who was
+dead. If she entered the room, blinking eyes and reeling steps showed
+her to be totally unqualified for ministering the aid that was needed.
+Presently she disappeared, and others ascended the staircase, a coffin
+was deposited at the door, the wretch, whose heart still quivered, was
+seized by rude hands, and dragged along the floor into the passage.
+
+"Oh! how poor are the conceptions which are formed, by the fortunate
+few, of the sufferings to which millions of their fellow-beings are
+condemned. This misery was more frightful, because it was seen to flow
+from the depravity of the attendants. My own eyes only would make me
+credit the existence of wickedness so enormous. No wonder that to die in
+garrets, and cellars, and stables, unvisited and unknown, had, by so
+many, been preferred to being brought hither.
+
+"A physician cast an eye upon my state. He gave some directions to the
+person who attended him. I did not comprehend them, they were never
+executed by the nurses, and, if the attempt had been made, I should
+probably have refused to receive what was offered. Recovery was equally
+beyond my expectations and my wishes. The scene which was hourly
+displayed before me, the entrance of the sick, most of whom perished in
+a few hours, and their departure to the graves prepared for them,
+reminded me of the fate to which I, also, was reserved.
+
+"Three days passed away, in which every hour was expected to be the
+last. That, amidst an atmosphere so contagious and deadly, amidst causes
+of destruction hourly accumulating, I should yet survive, appears to me
+nothing less than miraculous. That of so many conducted to this house
+the only one who passed out of it alive should be myself almost
+surpasses my belief.
+
+"Some inexplicable principle rendered harmless those potent enemies of
+human life. My fever subsided and vanished. My strength was revived, and
+the first use that I made of my limbs was to bear me far from the
+contemplation and sufferance of those evils."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+
+Having gratified my curiosity in this respect, Wallace proceeded to
+remind me of the circumstances of our first interview. He had
+entertained doubts whether I was the person whom he had met at Lesher's.
+I acknowledged myself to be the same, and inquired, in my turn, into the
+motives of his conduct on that occasion.
+
+"I confess," said he, with some hesitation, "I meant only to sport with
+your simplicity and ignorance. You must not imagine, however, that my
+stratagem was deep-laid and deliberately executed. My professions at the
+tavern were sincere. I meant not to injure but to serve you. It was not
+till I reached the head of the staircase that the mischievous
+contrivance occurred. I foresaw nothings at the moment, but ludicrous
+mistakes and embarrassment. The scheme was executed almost at the very
+moment it occurred.
+
+"After I had returned to the parlour, Thetford charged me with the
+delivery of a message in a distant quarter of the city. It was not till
+I had performed this commission, and had set out on my return, that I
+fully revolved the consequences likely to flow from my project.
+
+"That Thetford and his wife would detect you in their bedchamber was
+unquestionable. Perhaps, weary of my long delay, you would have fairly
+undressed and gone to bed. The married couple would have made
+preparation to follow you, and, when the curtain was undrawn, would
+discover a robust youth, fast asleep, in their place. These images,
+which had just before excited my laughter, now produced a very different
+emotion. I dreaded some fatal catastrophe from the fiery passions of
+Thetford. In the first transports of his fury he might pistol you, or,
+at least, might command you to be dragged to prison.
+
+"I now heartily repented of my jest, and hastened home, that I might
+prevent, as far as possible, the evil effects that might flow from it.
+The acknowledgment of my own agency in this affair would, at least,
+transfer Thetford's indignation to myself, to whom it was equitably due.
+
+"The married couple had retired to their chamber, and no alarm or
+confusion had followed. This was an inexplicable circumstance. I waited
+with impatience till the morning should furnish a solution of the
+difficulty. The morning arrived. A strange event had, indeed, taken
+place in their bedchamber. They found an infant asleep in their bed.
+Thetford had been roused twice in the night, once by a noise in the
+closet, and afterwards by a noise at the door.
+
+"Some connection between these sounds and the foundling was naturally
+suspected. In the morning the closet was examined, and a coarse pair of
+shoes was found on the floor. The chamber door, which Thetford had
+locked in the evening, was discovered to be open, as likewise a window
+in the kitchen.
+
+"These appearances were a source of wonder and doubt to others, but were
+perfectly intelligible to me. I rejoiced that my stratagem had no more
+dangerous consequence, and admired the ingenuity and perseverance with
+which you had extricated yourself from so critical a state."
+
+This narrative was only the verification of my own guesses. Its facts
+were quickly supplanted in my thoughts by the disastrous picture he had
+drawn of the state of the hospital. I was confounded and shocked by the
+magnitude of this evil. The cause of it was obvious. The wretches whom
+money could purchase were, of course, licentious and unprincipled.
+Superintended and controlled, they might be useful instruments; but that
+superintendence could not be bought.
+
+What qualities were requisite in the governor of such an institution? He
+must have zeal, diligence, and perseverance. He must act from lofty and
+pure motives. He must be mild and firm, intrepid and compliant. One
+perfectly qualified for the office it is desirable, but not possible,
+to find. A dispassionate and honest zeal in the cause of duty and
+humanity may be of eminent utility. Am I not endowed with this zeal?
+Cannot my feeble efforts obviate some portion of this evil?
+
+No one has hitherto claimed this disgustful and perilous situation. My
+powers and discernment are small, but if they be honestly exerted they
+cannot fail to be somewhat beneficial.
+
+The impulse produced by these reflections was to hasten to the City
+Hall, and make known my wishes. This impulse was controlled by
+recollections of my own indisposition, and of the state of Wallace. To
+deliver this youth to his friends was the strongest obligation. When
+this was discharged, I might return to the city, and acquit myself of
+more comprehensive duties.
+
+Wallace had now enjoyed a few hours' rest, and was persuaded to begin
+the journey. It was now noonday, and the sun darted insupportable rays.
+Wallace was more sensible than I of their unwholesome influence. We had
+not reached the suburbs, when his strength was wholly exhausted, and,
+had I not supported him, he would have sunk upon the pavement.
+
+My limbs were scarcely less weak, but my resolutions were much more
+strenuous than his. I made light of his indisposition, and endeavoured
+to persuade him that his vigour would return in proportion to his
+distance from the city. The moment we should reach a shade, a short
+respite would restore us to health and cheerfulness.
+
+Nothing could revive his courage or induce him to go on. To return or to
+proceed was equally impracticable. But, should he be able to return,
+where should he find a retreat? The danger of relapse was imminent; his
+own chamber at Thetford's was unoccupied. If he could regain this house,
+might I not procure him a physician and perform for him the part of
+nurse?
+
+His present situation was critical and mournful. To remain in the
+street, exposed to the malignant fervours of the sun, was not to be
+endured. To carry him in my arms exceeded my strength. Should I not
+claim the assistance of the first passenger that appeared?
+
+At that moment a horse and chaise passed us. The vehicle proceeded at a
+quick pace. He that rode in it might afford us the succour that we
+needed. He might be persuaded to deviate from his course and convey the
+helpless Wallace to the house we had just left.
+
+This thought instantly impelled me forward. Feeble as I was, I even ran
+with speed, in order to overtake the vehicle. My purpose was effected
+with the utmost difficulty. It fortunately happened that the carriage
+contained but one person, who stopped at my request. His countenance and
+guise was mild and encouraging.
+
+"Good friend," I exclaimed, "here is a young man too indisposed to walk.
+I want him carried to his lodgings. Will you, for money or for charity,
+allow him a place in your chaise, and set him down where I shall
+direct?" Observing tokens of hesitation, I continued, "You need have no
+fears to perform this office. He is not sick, but merely feeble. I will
+not ask twenty minutes, and you may ask what reward you think proper."
+
+Still he hesitated to comply. His business, he said, had not led him
+into the city. He merely passed along the skirts of it, whence he
+conceived that no danger would arise. He was desirous of helping the
+unfortunate; but he could not think of risking his own life in the cause
+of a stranger, when he had a wife and children depending on his
+existence and exertions for bread. It gave him pain to refuse, but he
+thought his duty to himself and to others required that he should not
+hazard his safety by compliance.
+
+This plea was irresistible. The mildness of his manner showed that he
+might have been overpowered by persuasion or tempted by reward. I would
+not take advantage of his tractability; but should have declined his
+assistance, even if it had been spontaneously offered. I turned away
+from him in silence, and prepared to return to the spot where I had left
+my friend. The man prepared to resume his way.
+
+In this perplexity, the thought occurred to me that, since this person
+was going into the country, he might, possibly, consent to carry Wallace
+along with him. I confided greatly in the salutary influence of rural
+airs. I believed that debility constituted the whole of his complaint;
+that continuance in the city might occasion his relapse, or, at least,
+procrastinate his restoration.
+
+I once more addressed myself to the traveller, and inquired in what
+direction and how far he was going. To my unspeakable satisfaction, his
+answer informed me that his home lay beyond Mr. Hadwin's, and that this
+road carried him directly past that gentleman's door. He was willing to
+receive Wallace into his chaise, and to leave him at his uncle's.
+
+This joyous and auspicious occurrence surpassed my fondest hopes. I
+hurried with the pleasing tidings to Wallace, who eagerly consented to
+enter the carriage. I thought not at the moment of myself, or how far
+the same means of escaping from my danger might be used. The stranger
+could not be anxious on my account; and Wallace's dejection and weakness
+may apologize for his not soliciting my company, or expressing his fears
+for my safety. He was no sooner seated, than the traveller hurried away.
+I gazed after them, motionless and mute, till the carriage, turning a
+corner, passed beyond my sight.
+
+I had now leisure to revert to my own condition, and to ruminate on that
+series of abrupt and diversified events that had happened during the few
+hours which had been passed in the city: the end of my coming was thus
+speedily and satisfactorily accomplished. My hopes and fears had rapidly
+fluctuated; but, respecting this young man, had now subsided into calm
+and propitious certainty. Before the decline of the sun, he would enter
+his paternal roof, and diffuse ineffable joy throughout that peaceful
+and chaste asylum.
+
+This contemplation, though rapturous and soothing, speedily gave way to
+reflections on the conduct which my duty required, and the safe
+departure of Wallace afforded me liberty, to pursue. To offer myself as
+a superintendent of the hospital was still my purpose. The languors of
+my frame might terminate in sickness, but this event it was useless to
+anticipate. The lofty site and pure airs of Bush Hill might tend to
+dissipate my languors and restore me to health. At least while I had
+power, I was bound to exert it to the wisest purposes. I resolved to
+seek the City Hall immediately, and, for that end, crossed the
+intermediate fields which separated Sassafras from Chestnut Street.
+
+More urgent considerations had diverted my attention from the money
+which I bore about me, and from the image of the desolate lady to whom
+it belonged. My intentions, with regard to her, were the same as ever;
+but now it occurred to me, with new force, that my death might preclude
+an interview between us, and that it was prudent to dispose, in some
+useful way, of the money which would otherwise be left to the sport of
+chance.
+
+The evils which had befallen this city were obvious and enormous. Hunger
+and negligence had exasperated the malignity and facilitated the
+progress of the pestilence. Could this money be more usefully employed
+than in alleviating these evils? During my life, I had no power over it,
+but my death would justify me in prescribing the course which it should
+take.
+
+How was this course to be pointed out? How might I place it, so that I
+should effect my intentions without relinquishing the possession during
+my life?
+
+These thoughts were superseded by a tide of new sensations. The weight
+that incommoded my brows and my stomach was suddenly increased. My brain
+was usurped by some benumbing power, and my limbs refused to support me.
+My pulsations were quickened, and the prevalence of fever could no
+longer be doubted.
+
+Till now, I had entertained a faint hope that my indisposition would
+vanish of itself. This hope was at an end. The grave was before me, and
+my projects of curiosity or benevolence were to sink into oblivion. I
+was not bereaved of the powers of reflection. The consequences of lying
+in the road, friendless and unprotected, were sure. The first passenger
+would notice me, and hasten to summon one of those carriages which are
+busy night and day in transporting its victims to the hospital.
+
+This fate was, beyond all others, abhorrent to my imagination. To hide
+me under some roof, where my existence would be unknown and unsuspected,
+and where I might perish unmolested and in quiet, was my present wish.
+Thetford's or Medlicote's might afford me such an asylum, if it were
+possible to reach it.
+
+I made the most strenuous exertions; but they could not carry me forward
+more than a hundred paces. Here I rested on steps, which, on looking up,
+I perceived to belong to Welbeck's house.
+
+This incident was unexpected. It led my reflections into a new train. To
+go farther, in the present condition of my frame, was impossible. I was
+well acquainted with this dwelling. All its avenues were closed. Whether
+it had remained unoccupied since my flight from it, I could not decide.
+It was evident that, at present, it was without inhabitants. Possibly it
+might have continued in the same condition in which Welbeck had left it.
+Beds or sofas might be found, on which a sick man might rest, and be
+fearless of intrusion.
+
+This inference was quickly overturned by the obvious supposition that
+every avenue was bolted and locked. This, however, might not be the
+condition of the bath-house, in which there was nothing that required to
+be guarded with unusual precautions. I was suffocated by inward and
+scorched by external heat; and the relief of bathing and drinking
+appeared inestimable.
+
+The value of this prize, in addition to my desire to avoid the
+observation of passengers, made me exert all my remnant of strength.
+Repeated efforts at length enabled me to mount the wall; and placed me,
+as I imagined, in security. I swallowed large draughts of water as soon
+as I could reach the well.
+
+The effect was, for a time, salutary and delicious. My fervours were
+abated, and my faculties relieved from the weight which had lately
+oppressed them. My present condition was unspeakably more advantageous
+than the former. I did not believe that it could be improved, till,
+casting my eye vaguely over the building, I happened to observe the
+shutters of a lower window partly opened.
+
+Whether this was occasioned by design or by accident there was no means
+of deciding. Perhaps, in the precipitation of the latest possessor, this
+window had been overlooked. Perhaps it had been unclosed by violence,
+and afforded entrance to a robber. By what means soever it had
+happened, it undoubtedly afforded ingress to me. I felt no scruple in
+profiting by this circumstance. My purposes were not dishonest. I should
+not injure or purloin any thing. It was laudable to seek a refuge from
+the well-meant persecutions of those who governed the city. All I sought
+was the privilege of dying alone.
+
+Having gotten in at the window, I could not but remark that the
+furniture and its arrangements had undergone no alteration in my
+absence. I moved softly from one apartment to another, till at length I
+entered that which had formerly been Welbeck's bedchamber.
+
+The bed was naked of covering. The cabinets and closets exhibited their
+fastenings broken. Their contents were gone. Whether these appearances
+had been produced by midnight robbers, or by the ministers of law and
+the rage of the creditors of Welbeck, was a topic of fruitless
+conjecture.
+
+My design was now effected. This chamber should be the scene of my
+disease and my refuge from the charitable cruelty of my neighbours. My
+new sensations conjured up the hope that my indisposition might prove a
+temporary evil. Instead of pestilential or malignant fever, it might be
+a harmless intermittent. Time would ascertain its true nature;
+meanwhile, I would turn the carpet into a coverlet, supply my pitcher
+with water, and administer without sparing, and without fear, that
+remedy which was placed within my reach.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+
+I laid myself on the bed and wrapped my limbs in the folds of the
+carpet. My thoughts were restless and perturbed. I was once more busy in
+reflecting on the conduct which I ought to pursue with regard to the
+bank-bills. I weighed, with scrupulous attention, every circumstance
+that might influence my decision. I could not conceive any more
+beneficial application of this property than to the service of the
+indigent, at this season of multiplied distress; but I considered that,
+if my death were unknown, the house would not be opened or examined till
+the pestilence had ceased, and the benefits of this application would
+thus be partly or wholly precluded.
+
+This season of disease, however, would give place to a season of
+scarcity. The number and wants of the poor, during the ensuing winter,
+would be deplorably aggravated. What multitudes might be rescued from
+famine and nakedness by the judicious application of this sum!
+
+But how should I secure this application? To enclose the bills in a
+letter, directed to some eminent citizen or public officer, was the
+obvious proceeding. Both of these conditions were fulfilled in the
+person of the present chief-magistrate. To him, therefore, the packet
+was to be sent.
+
+Paper and the implements of writing were necessary for this end. Would
+they be found, I asked, in the upper room? If that apartment, like the
+rest which I had seen, and its furniture, had remained untouched, my
+task would be practicable; but, if the means of writing were not to be
+immediately procured, my purpose, momentous and dear as it was, must be
+relinquished.
+
+The truth, in this respect, was easily and ought immediately to be
+ascertained. I rose from the bed which I had lately taken, and proceeded
+to the _study_. The entries and staircases were illuminated by a pretty
+strong twilight. The rooms, in consequence of every ray being excluded
+by the closed shutters, were nearly as dark as if it had been midnight.
+The rooms into which I had already passed were locked, but its key was
+in each lock. I flattered myself that the entrance into the _study_
+would be found in the same condition. The door was shut, but no key was
+to be seen. My hopes were considerably damped by this appearance, but I
+conceived it to be still possible to enter, since, by chance or by
+design, the door might be unlocked.
+
+My fingers touched the lock, when a sound was heard as if a bolt,
+appending to the door on the inside, had been drawn. I was startled by
+this incident. It betokened that the room was already occupied by some
+other, who desired to exclude a visitor. The unbarred shutter below was
+remembered, and associated itself with this circumstance. That this
+house should be entered by the same avenue, at the same time, and this
+room should be sought, by two persons, was a mysterious concurrence.
+
+I began to question whether I had heard distinctly. Numberless
+inexplicable noises are apt to assail the ear in an empty dwelling. The
+very echoes of our steps are unwonted and new. This, perhaps, was some
+such sound. Resuming courage, I once more applied to the lock. The door,
+in spite of my repeated efforts, would not open.
+
+My design was too momentous to be readily relinquished. My curiosity and
+my fears likewise were awakened. The marks of violence, which I had seen
+on the closets and cabinets below, seemed to indicate the presence of
+plunderers. Here was one who laboured for seclusion and concealment.
+
+The pillage was not made upon my property. My weakness would disable me
+from encountering or mastering a man of violence. To solicit admission
+into this room would be useless. To attempt to force my way would be
+absurd. These reflections prompted me to withdraw from the door; but the
+uncertainty of the conclusions I had drawn, and the importance of
+gaining access to this apartment, combined to check my steps.
+
+Perplexed as to the means I should employ, I once more tried the lock.
+The attempt was fruitless as the former. Though hopeless of any
+information to be gained by that means, I put my eye to the keyhole. I
+discovered a light different from what was usually met with at this
+hour. It was not the twilight which the sun, imperfectly excluded,
+produces, but gleams, as from a lamp; yet its gleams were fainter and
+obscurer than a lamp generally imparts.
+
+Was this a confirmation of my first conjecture? Lamplight at noonday, in
+a mansion thus deserted, and in a room which had been the scene of
+memorable and disastrous events, was ominous. Hitherto no direct proof
+had been given of the presence of a human being. How to ascertain his
+presence, or whether it were eligible by any means to ascertain it, were
+points on which I had not deliberated.
+
+I had no power to deliberate. My curiosity impelled me to call,--"Is
+there any one within? Speak."
+
+These words were scarcely uttered, when some one exclaimed, in a voice
+vehement but half-smothered, "Good God!"--
+
+A deep pause succeeded. I waited for an answer; for somewhat to which
+this emphatic invocation might be a prelude. Whether the tones were
+expressive of surprise, or pain, or grief, was, for a moment, dubious.
+Perhaps the motives which led me to this house suggested the suspicion
+which presently succeeded to my doubts,--that the person within was
+disabled by sickness. The circumstances of my own condition took away
+the improbability from this belief. Why might not another be induced
+like me to hide himself in this desolate retreat? Might not a servant,
+left to take care of the house, a measure usually adopted by the opulent
+at this time, be seized by the reigning malady? Incapacitated for
+exertion, or fearing to be dragged to the hospital, he has shut himself
+in this apartment. The robber, it may be, who came to pillage, was
+overtaken and detained by disease. In either case, detection or
+intrusion would be hateful, and would be assiduously eluded.
+
+These thoughts had no tendency to weaken or divert my efforts to obtain
+access to this room. The person was a brother in calamity, whom it was
+my duty to succour and cherish to the utmost of my power. Once more I
+spoke:--
+
+"Who is within? I beseech you answer me. Whatever you be, I desire to do
+you good and not injury. Open the door and let me know your condition. I
+will try to be of use to you."
+
+I was answered by a deep groan, and by a sob counteracted and devoured
+as it were by a mighty effort. This token of distress thrilled to my
+heart. My terrors wholly disappeared, and gave place to unlimited
+compassion. I again entreated to be admitted, promising all the succour
+or consolation which my situation allowed me to afford.
+
+Answers were made in tones of anger and impatience, blended with those
+of grief:--"I want no succour; vex me not with your entreaties and
+offers. Fly from this spot; linger not a moment, lest you participate my
+destiny and rush upon your death."
+
+These I considered merely as the effusions of delirium, or the dictates
+of despair. The style and articulation denoted the speaker to be
+superior to the class of servants. Hence my anxiety to see and to aid
+him was increased. My remonstrances were sternly and pertinaciously
+repelled. For a time, incoherent and impassioned exclamations flowed
+from him. At length, I was only permitted to hear strong aspirations and
+sobs, more eloquent and more indicative of grief than any language.
+
+This deportment filled me with no less wonder than commiseration. By
+what views this person was led hither, by what motives induced to deny
+himself to my entreaties, was wholly incomprehensible. Again, though
+hopeless of success, I repeated my request to be admitted.
+
+My perseverance seemed now to have exhausted all his patience, and he
+exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, "Arthur Mervyn! Begone. Linger but a
+moment, and my rage, tiger-like, will rush upon you and rend you limb
+from limb."
+
+This address petrified me. The voice that uttered this sanguinary menace
+was strange to my ears. It suggested no suspicion of ever having heard
+it before. Yet my accents had betrayed me to him. He was familiar with
+my name. Notwithstanding the improbability of my entrance into this
+dwelling, I was clearly recognized and unhesitatingly named!
+
+My curiosity and compassion were in no wise diminished, but I found
+myself compelled to give up my purpose. I withdrew reluctantly from the
+door, and once more threw myself upon my bed. Nothing was more
+necessary, in the present condition of my frame; than sleep; and sleep
+had, perhaps, been possible, if the scene around me had been less
+pregnant with causes of wonder and panic.
+
+Once more I tasked memory in order to discover, in the persons with whom
+I had hitherto conversed, some resemblance, in voice or tones, to him
+whom I had just heard. This process was effectual. Gradually my
+imagination called up an image which, now that it was clearly seen, I
+was astonished had not instantly occurred. Three years ago, a man, by
+name Colvill, came on foot, and with a knapsack on his back, into the
+district where my father resided. He had learning and genius, and
+readily obtained the station for which only he deemed himself qualified;
+that of a schoolmaster.
+
+His demeanour was gentle and modest; his habits, as to sleep, food, and
+exercise, abstemious and regular. Meditation in the forest, or reading
+in his closet, seemed to constitute, together with attention to his
+scholars, his sole amusement and employment. He estranged himself from
+company, not because society afforded no pleasure, but because studious
+seclusion afforded him chief satisfaction.
+
+No one was more idolized by his unsuspecting neighbours. His scholars
+revered him as a father, and made under his tuition a remarkable
+proficiency. His character seemed open to boundless inspection, and his
+conduct was pronounced by all to be faultless.
+
+At the end of a year the scene was changed. A daughter of one of his
+patrons, young, artless, and beautiful, appeared to have fallen a prey
+to the arts of some detestable seducer. The betrayer was gradually
+detected, and successive discoveries showed that the same artifices had
+been practised, with the same success, upon many others. Colvill was the
+arch-villain. He retired from the storm of vengeance that was gathering
+over him, and had not been heard of since that period.
+
+I saw him rarely, and for a short time, and I was a mere boy. Hence the
+failure to recollect his voice, and to perceive that the voice of him
+immured in the room above was the same with that of Colvill. Though I
+had slight reasons for recognising his features or accents, I had
+abundant cause to think of him with detestation, and pursue him with
+implacable revenge, for the victim of his acts, she whose ruin was first
+detected, was--_my sister_.
+
+This unhappy girl escaped from the upbraidings of her parents, from the
+contumelies of the world, from the goadings of remorse, and the anguish
+flowing from the perfidy and desertion of Colvill, in a voluntary death.
+She was innocent and lovely. Previous to this evil, my soul was linked
+with hers by a thousand resemblances and sympathies, as well as by
+perpetual intercourse from infancy, and by the fraternal relation. She
+was my sister, my preceptress and friend; but she died--her end was
+violent, untimely, and criminal! I cannot think of her without
+heart-bursting grief; of her destroyer, without a rancour which I know
+to be wrong, but which I cannot subdue.
+
+When the image of Colvill rushed, upon this occasion, on my thought, I
+almost started on my feet. To meet him, after so long a separation,
+here, and in these circumstances, was so unlooked-for and abrupt an
+event, and revived a tribe of such hateful impulses and agonizing
+recollections, that a total revolution seemed to have been effected in
+my frame. His recognition of my person, his aversion to be seen, his
+ejaculation of terror and surprise on first hearing my voice, all
+contributed to strengthen my belief.
+
+How was I to act? My feeble frame could but ill second my vengeful
+purposes; but vengeance, though it sometimes occupied my thoughts, was
+hindered by my reason from leading me, in any instance, to outrage or
+even to upbraiding.
+
+All my wishes with regard to this man were limited to expelling his
+image from my memory, and to shunning a meeting with him. That he had
+not opened the door at my bidding was now a topic of joy. To look upon
+some bottomless pit, into which I was about to be cast headlong, and
+alive, was less to be abhorred than to look upon the face of Colvill.
+Had I known that he had taken refuge in this house, no power should have
+compelled me to enter it. To be immersed in the infection of the
+hospital, and to be hurried, yet breathing and observant, to my grave,
+was a more supportable fate.
+
+I dwell, with self-condemnation and shame, upon this part of my story.
+To feel extraordinary indignation at vice, merely because we have
+partaken in an extraordinary degree of its mischiefs, is unjustifiable.
+To regard the wicked with no emotion but pity, to be active in
+reclaiming them, in controlling their malevolence, and preventing or
+repairing the ills which they produce, is the only province of duty.
+This lesson, as well as a thousand others, I have yet to learn; but I
+despair of living long enough for that or any beneficial purpose.
+
+My emotions with regard to Colvill were erroneous, but omnipotent. I
+started from my bed, and prepared to rush into the street. I was
+careless of the lot that should befall me, since no fate could be worse
+than that of abiding under the same roof with a wretch spotted with so
+many crimes.
+
+I had not set my feet upon the floor before my precipitation was checked
+by a sound from above. The door of the study was cautiously and slowly
+opened. This incident admitted only of one construction, supposing all
+obstructions removed. Colvill was creeping from his hiding-place, and
+would probably fly with speed from the house. My belief of his sickness
+was now confuted. An illicit design was congenial with his character
+and congruous with those appearances already observed.
+
+I had no power or wish to obstruct his flight. I thought of it with
+transport, and once more threw myself upon the bed, and wrapped my
+averted face in the carpet. He would probably pass this door,
+unobservant of me, and my muffled face would save me from the agonies
+connected with the sight of him.
+
+The footsteps above were distinguishable, though it was manifest that
+they moved with lightsomeness and circumspection. They reached the stair
+and descended. The room in which I lay was, like the rest, obscured by
+the closed shutters. This obscurity now gave way to a light, resembling
+that glimmering and pale reflection which I had noticed in the study. My
+eyes, though averted from the door, were disengaged from the folds which
+covered the rest of my head, and observed these tokens of Colvill's
+approach, flitting on the wall.
+
+My feverish perturbations increased as he drew nearer. He reached the
+door, and stopped. The light rested for a moment. Presently he entered
+the apartment. My emotions suddenly rose to a height that would not be
+controlled. I imagined that he approached the bed, and was gazing upon
+me. At the same moment, by an involuntary impulse, I threw off my
+covering, and, turning my face, fixed my eyes upon my visitant.
+
+It was as I suspected. The figure, lifting in his right hand a candle,
+and gazing at the bed, with lineaments and attitude bespeaking fearful
+expectation and tormenting doubts, was now beheld. One glance
+communicated to my senses all the parts of this terrific vision. A
+sinking at my heart, as if it had been penetrated by a dagger, seized
+me. This was not enough: I uttered a shriek, too rueful and loud not to
+have startled the attention of the passengers, if any had, at that
+moment, been passing the street.
+
+Heaven seemed to have decreed that this period should be filled with
+trials of my equanimity and fortitude. The test of my courage was once
+more employed to cover me with humiliation and remorse. This second
+time, my fancy conjured up a spectre, and I shuddered as if the grave
+were forsaken and the unquiet dead haunted my pillow.
+
+The visage and the shape had indeed preternatural attitudes, but they
+belonged, not to Colvill, but to--WELBECK.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+
+He whom I had accompanied to the midst of the river; whom I had imagined
+that I saw sink to rise no more, was now before me. Though incapable of
+precluding the groundless belief of preternatural visitations, I was
+able to banish the phantom almost at the same instant at which it
+appeared. Welbeck had escaped from the stream alive; or had, by some
+inconceivable means, been restored to life.
+
+The first was the most plausible conclusion. It instantly engendered a
+suspicion, that his plunging into the water was an artifice, intended to
+establish a belief of his death. His own tale had shown him to be versed
+in frauds, and flexible to evil. But was he not associated with Colvill?
+and what, but a compact in iniquity, could bind together such men?
+
+While thus musing, Welbeck's countenance and gesture displayed emotions
+too vehement for speech. The glances that he fixed upon me were
+unsteadfast and wild. He walked along the floor, stopping at each
+moment, and darting looks of eagerness upon me. A conflict of passions
+kept him mute. At length, advancing to the bed, on the side of which I
+was now sitting, he addressed me:--
+
+"What is this? Are you here? In defiance of pestilence, are you actuated
+by some demon to haunt me, like the ghost of my offences, and cover me
+with shame? What have I to do with that dauntless yet guiltless front?
+With that foolishly-confiding and obsequious, yet erect and
+unconquerable, spirit? Is there no means of evading your pursuit? Must I
+dip my hands, a second time, in blood; and dig for you a grave by the
+side of Watson?"
+
+These words were listened to with calmness. I suspected and pitied the
+man, but I did not fear him. His words and his looks were indicative
+less of cruelty than madness. I looked at him with an air compassionate
+and wistful. I spoke with mildness and composure:--
+
+"Mr. Welbeck, you are unfortunate and criminal. Would to God I could
+restore you to happiness and virtue! but, though my desire be strong, I
+have no power to change your habits or rescue you from misery.
+
+"I believed you to be dead. I rejoice to find myself mistaken. While you
+live, there is room to hope that your errors will be cured; and the
+turmoils and inquietudes that have hitherto beset your guilty progress
+will vanish by your reverting into better paths.
+
+"From me you have nothing to fear. If your welfare will be promoted by
+my silence on the subject of your history, my silence shall be
+inviolate. I deem not lightly of my promises. They are given, and shall
+not be recalled.
+
+"This meeting was casual. Since I believed you to be dead, it could not
+be otherwise. You err, if you suppose that any injury will accrue to you
+from my life; but you need not discard that error. Since my death is
+coming, I am not averse to your adopting the belief that the event is
+fortunate to you.
+
+"Death is the inevitable and universal lot. When or how it comes, is of
+little moment. To stand, when so many thousands are falling around me,
+is not to be expected. I have acted an humble and obscure part in the
+world, and my career has been short; but I murmur not at the decree that
+makes it so.
+
+"The pestilence is now upon me. The chances of recovery are too slender
+to deserve my confidence. I came hither to die unmolested, and at peace.
+All I ask of you is to consult your own safety by immediate flight; and
+not to disappoint my hopes of concealment, by disclosing my condition to
+the agents of the hospital."
+
+Welbeck listened with the deepest attention. The wildness of his air
+disappeared, and gave place to perplexity and apprehension.
+
+"You are sick," said he, in a tremulous tone, in which terror was
+mingled with affection. "You know this, and expect not to recover. No
+mother, nor sister, nor friend, will be near to administer food, or
+medicine, or comfort; yet you can talk calmly; can be thus considerate
+of others--of me; whose guilt has been so deep, and who has merited so
+little at your hands!
+
+"Wretched coward! Thus miserable as I am and expect to be, I cling to
+life. To comply with your heroic counsel, and to fly; to leave you thus
+desolate and helpless, is the strongest impulse. Fain would I resist it,
+but cannot.
+
+"To desert you would be flagitious and dastardly beyond all former acts;
+yet to stay with you is to contract the disease, and to perish after
+you.
+
+"Life, burdened as it is with guilt and ignominy, is still dear--yet you
+exhort me to go; you dispense with my assistance. Indeed, I could be of
+no use; I should injure myself and profit you nothing. I cannot go into
+the city and procure a physician or attendant. I must never more appear
+in the streets of this city. I must leave you, then." He hurried to the
+door. Again, he hesitated. I renewed my entreaties that he would leave
+me; and encouraged his belief that his presence might endanger himself
+without conferring the slightest benefit upon me.
+
+"Whither should I fly? The wide world contains no asylum for me. I lived
+but on one condition. I came hither to find what would save me from
+ruin,--from death. I find it not. It has vanished. Some audacious and
+fortunate hand has snatched it from its place, and now my ruin is
+complete. My last hope is extinct.
+
+"Yes, Mervyn! I will stay with you. I will hold your head. I will put
+water to your lips. I will watch night and day by your side. When you
+die, I will carry you by night to the neighbouring field; will bury you,
+and water your grave with those tears that are due to your incomparable
+worth and untimely destiny. Then I will lay myself in your bed, and wait
+for the same oblivion."
+
+Welbeck seemed now no longer to be fluctuating between opposite
+purposes. His tempestuous features subsided into calm. He put the
+candle, still lighted, on the table, and paced the floor with less
+disorder than at his first entrance.
+
+His resolution was seen to be the dictate of despair. I hoped that it
+would not prove invincible to my remonstrances. I was conscious that his
+attendance might preclude, in some degree, my own exertions, and
+alleviate the pangs of death; but these consolations might be purchased
+too dear. To receive them at the hazard of his life would be to make
+them odious.
+
+But, if he should remain, what conduct would his companion pursue? Why
+did he continue in the study when Welbeck had departed? By what motives
+were those men led hither? I addressed myself to Welbeck:--
+
+"Your resolution to remain is hasty and rash. By persisting in it, you
+will add to the miseries of my condition; you will take away the only
+hope that I cherished. But, however you may act, Colvill or I must be
+banished from this roof. What is the league between you? Break it, I
+conjure you, before his frauds have involved you in inextricable
+destruction."
+
+Welbeck looked at me with some expression of doubt.
+
+"I mean," continued I, "the man whose voice I heard above. He is a
+villain and betrayer. I have manifold proofs of his guilt. Why does he
+linger behind you? However you may decide, it is fitting that he should
+vanish."
+
+"Alas!" said Welbeck, "I have no companion, none to partake with me in
+good or evil. I came hither alone."
+
+"How?" exclaimed I. "Whom did I hear in the room above? Some one
+answered my interrogations and entreaties, whom I too certainly
+recognised. Why does he remain?"
+
+"You heard no one but myself. The design that brought me hither was to
+be accomplished without a witness. I desired to escape detection, and
+repelled your solicitations for admission in a counterfeited voice.
+
+"That voice belonged to one from whom I had lately parted. What his
+merits or demerits are, I know not. He found me wandering in the forests
+of New Jersey. He took me to his home. When seized by a lingering
+malady, he nursed me with fidelity and tenderness. When somewhat
+recovered, I speeded hither; but our ignorance of each other's character
+and views was mutual and profound.
+
+"I deemed it useful to assume a voice different from my own. This was
+the last which I had heard, and this arbitrary and casual circumstance
+decided my choice."
+
+This imitation was too perfect, and had influenced my fears too
+strongly, to be easily credited. I suspected Welbeck of some new
+artifice to baffle my conclusions and mislead my judgment. This
+suspicion, however, yielded to his earnest and repeated declarations. If
+Colvill were not here, where had he made his abode? How came friendship
+and intercourse between Welbeck and him? By what miracle escaped the
+former from the river, into which I had imagined him forever sunk?
+
+"I will answer you," said he, with candour. "You know already too much
+for me to have any interest in concealing any part of my life. You have
+discovered my existence, and the causes that rescued me from destruction
+may be told without detriment to my person or fame.
+
+"When I leaped into the river, I intended to perish. I harboured no
+previous doubts of my ability to execute my fatal purpose. In this
+respect I was deceived. Suffocation would not come at my bidding. My
+muscles and limbs rebelled against my will. There was a mechanical
+repugnance to the loss of life, which I could not vanquish. My struggles
+might thrust me below the surface, but my lips were spontaneously shut,
+and excluded the torrent from my lungs. When my breath was exhausted,
+the efforts that kept me at the bottom were involuntarily remitted, and
+I rose to the surface.
+
+"I cursed my own pusillanimity. Thrice I plunged to the bottom, and as
+often rose again. My aversion to life swiftly diminished, and at length
+I consented to make use of my skill in swimming, which has seldom been
+exceeded, to prolong my existence. I landed in a few minutes on the
+Jersey shore.
+
+"This scheme being frustrated, I sunk into dreariness and inactivity. I
+felt as if no dependence could be placed upon my courage, as if any
+effort I should make for self-destruction would be fruitless; yet
+existence was as void as ever of enjoyment and embellishment. My means
+of living were annihilated. I saw no path before me. To shun the
+presence of mankind was my sovereign wish. Since I could not die by my
+own hands, I must be content to crawl upon the surface, till a superior
+fate should permit me to perish.
+
+"I wandered into the centre of the wood. I stretched myself on the mossy
+verge of a brook, and gazed at the stars till they disappeared. The next
+day was spent with little variation. The cravings of hunger were felt,
+and the sensation was a joyous one, since it afforded me the practicable
+means of death. To refrain from food was easy, since some efforts would
+be needful to procure it, and these efforts should not be made. Thus was
+the sweet oblivion for which I so earnestly panted placed within my
+reach.
+
+"Three days of abstinence, and reverie, and solitude, succeeded. On the
+evening of the fourth, I was seated on a rock, with my face buried in my
+hands. Some one laid his hand upon my shoulder. I started and looked up.
+I beheld a face beaming with compassion and benignity. He endeavoured to
+extort from me the cause of my solitude and sorrow. I disregarded his
+entreaties, and was obstinately silent.
+
+"Finding me invincible in this respect, he invited me to his cottage,
+which was hard by. I repelled him at first with impatience and anger,
+but he was not to be discouraged or intimidated. To elude his
+persuasions I was obliged to comply. My strength was gone, and the vital
+fabric was crumbling into pieces. A fever raged in my veins, and I was
+consoled by reflecting that my life was at once assailed by famine and
+disease.
+
+"Meanwhile, my gloomy meditations experienced no respite. I incessantly
+ruminated on the events of my past life. The long series of my crimes
+arose daily and afresh to my imagination. The image of Lodi was
+recalled, his expiring looks and the directions which were mutually
+given respecting his sister's and his property.
+
+"As I perpetually revolved these incidents, they assumed new forms, and
+were linked with new associations. The volume written by his father, and
+transferred to me by tokens which were now remembered to be more
+emphatic than the nature of the composition seemed to justify, was
+likewise remembered. It came attended by recollections respecting a
+volume which I filled, when a youth, with extracts from the Roman and
+Greek poets. Besides this literary purpose, I likewise used to preserve
+in it the bank-bills with the keeping or carriage of which I chanced to
+be entrusted. This image led me back to the leather case containing
+Lodi's property, which was put into my hands at the same time with the
+volume.
+
+"These images now gave birth to a third conception, which darted on my
+benighted understanding like an electrical flash. Was it not possible
+that part of Lodi's property might be enclosed within the leaves of this
+volume? In hastily turning it over, I recollected to have noticed leaves
+whose edges by accident or design adhered to each other. Lodi, in
+speaking of the sale of his father's West-India property, mentioned that
+the sum obtained for it was forty thousand dollars. Half only of this
+sum had been discovered by me. How had the remainder been appropriated?
+Surely this volume contained it.
+
+"The influence of this thought was like the infusion of a new soul into
+my frame. From torpid and desperate, from inflexible aversion to
+medicine and food, I was changed in a moment into vivacity and hope,
+into ravenous avidity for whatever could contribute to my restoration to
+health.
+
+"I was not without pungent regrets and racking fears. That this volume
+would be ravished away by creditors or plunderers was possible. Every
+hour might be that which decided my fate. The first impulse was to seek
+my dwelling and search for this precious deposit.
+
+"Meanwhile, my perturbations and impatience only exasperated my disease.
+While chained to my bed, the rumour of pestilence was spread abroad.
+This event, however, generally calamitous, was propitious to me, and was
+hailed with satisfaction. It multiplied the chances that my house and
+its furniture would be unmolested.
+
+"My friend was assiduous and indefatigable in his kindness. My
+deportment, before and subsequent to the revival of my hopes, was
+incomprehensible, and argued nothing less than insanity. My thoughts
+were carefully concealed from him, and all that he witnessed was
+contradictory and unintelligible.
+
+"At length, my strength was sufficiently restored. I resisted all my
+protector's importunities to postpone my departure till the perfect
+confirmation of my health. I designed to enter the city at midnight,
+that prying eyes might be eluded; to bear with me a candle and the means
+of lighting it, to explore my way to my ancient study, and to ascertain
+my future claim to existence and felicity.
+
+"I crossed the river this morning. My impatience would not suffer me to
+wait till evening. Considering the desolation of the city, I thought I
+might venture to approach thus near, without hazard of detection. The
+house, at all its avenues, was closed. I stole into the back court. A
+window-shutter proved to be unfastened. I entered, and discovered
+closets and cabinets unfastened and emptied of all their contents. At
+this spectacle my heart sunk. My books, doubtless, had shared the common
+destiny. My blood throbbed with painful vehemence as I approached the
+study and opened the door.
+
+"My hopes, that languished for a moment, were revived by the sight of my
+shelves, furnished as formerly. I had lighted my candle below, for I
+desired not to awaken observation and suspicion by unclosing the
+windows. My eye eagerly sought the spot where I remembered to have left
+the volume. Its place was empty. The object of all my hopes had eluded
+my grasp, and disappeared forever.
+
+"To paint my confusion, to repeat my execrations on the infatuation
+which had rendered, during so long a time that it was in my possession,
+this treasure useless to me, and my curses of the fatal interference
+which had snatched away the prize, would be only aggravations of my
+disappointment and my sorrow. You found me in this state, and know what
+followed."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+
+This narrative threw new light on the character of Welbeck. If accident
+had given him possession of this treasure, it was easy to predict on
+what schemes of luxury and selfishness it would have been expended. The
+same dependence on the world's erroneous estimation, the same devotion
+to imposture, and thoughtlessness of futurity, would have constituted
+the picture of his future life, as had distinguished the past.
+
+This money was another's. To retain it for his own use was criminal. Of
+this crime he appeared to be as insensible as ever. His own
+gratification was the supreme law of his actions. To be subjected to the
+necessity of honest labour was the heaviest of all evils, and one from
+which he was willing to escape by the commission of suicide.
+
+The volume which he sought was mine. It was my duty to restore it to the
+rightful owner, or, if the legal claimant could not be found, to employ
+it in the promotion of virtue and happiness. To give it to Welbeck was
+to consecrate it to the purpose of selfishness and misery. My right,
+legally considered, was as valid as his.
+
+But, if I intended not to resign it to him, was it proper to disclose
+the truth and explain by whom the volume was purloined from the shelf?
+The first impulse was to hide this truth; but my understanding had been
+taught, by recent occurrences, to question the justice and deny the
+usefulness of secrecy in any case. My principles were true; my motives
+were pure: why should I scruple to avow my principles and vindicate my
+actions?
+
+Welbeck had ceased to be dreaded or revered. That awe which was once
+created by his superiority of age, refinement of manners, and dignity
+of garb, had vanished. I was a boy in years, an indigent and uneducated
+rustic; but I was able to discern the illusions of power and riches, and
+abjured every claim to esteem that was not founded on integrity. There
+was no tribunal before which I should falter in asserting the truth, and
+no species of martyrdom which I would not cheerfully embrace in its
+cause.
+
+After some pause, I said, "Cannot you conjecture in what way this volume
+has disappeared?"
+
+"No," he answered, with a sigh. "Why, of all his volumes, this only
+should have vanished, was an inexplicable enigma."
+
+"Perhaps," said I, "it is less important to know how it was removed,
+than by whom it is now possessed."
+
+"Unquestionably; and yet, unless that knowledge enables me to regain the
+possession, it will be useless."
+
+"Useless then it will be, for the present possessor will never return it
+to you."
+
+"Indeed," replied he, in a tone of dejection, "your conjecture is most
+probable. Such a prize is of too much value to be given up."
+
+"What I have said flows not from conjecture, but from knowledge. I know
+that it will never be restored to you."
+
+At these words, Welbeck looked at me with anxiety and doubt:--"You
+_know_ that it will not! Have you any knowledge of the book? Can you
+tell me what has become of it?"
+
+"Yes. After our separation on the river, I returned to this house. I
+found this volume and secured it. You rightly suspected its contents.
+The money was there."
+
+Welbeck started as if he had trodden on a mine of gold. His first
+emotion was rapturous, but was immediately chastened by some degree of
+doubt:--"What has become of it? Have you got it? Is it entire? Have you
+it with you?"
+
+"It is unimpaired. I have got it, and shall hold it as a sacred trust
+for the rightful proprietor."
+
+The tone with which this declaration was accompanied shook the new-born
+confidence of Welbeck. "The rightful proprietor! true, but I am he. To
+me only it belongs, and to me you are, doubtless, willing to restore
+it."
+
+"Mr. Welbeck! It is not my desire to give you perplexity or anguish; to
+sport with your passions. On the supposition of your death, I deemed it
+no infraction of justice to take this manuscript. Accident unfolded its
+contents. I could not hesitate to choose my path. The natural and legal
+successor of Vincentio Lodi is his sister. To her, therefore, this
+property belongs, and to her only will I give it."
+
+"Presumptuous boy! And this is your sage decision. I tell you that I am
+the owner, and to me you shall render it. Who is this girl? Childish and
+ignorant! Unable to consult and to act for herself on the most trivial
+occasion. Am I not, by the appointment of her dying brother, her
+protector and guardian? Her age produces a legal incapacity of property.
+Do you imagine that so obvious an expedient as that of procuring my
+legal appointment as her guardian was overlooked by me? If it were
+neglected, still my title to provide her subsistence and enjoyment is
+unquestionable.
+
+"Did I not rescue her from poverty, and prostitution, and infamy? Have I
+not supplied all her wants with incessant solicitude? Whatever her
+condition required has been plenteously supplied. The dwelling and its
+furniture was hers, as far a rigid jurisprudence would permit. To
+prescribe her expenses and govern her family was the province of her
+guardian.
+
+"You have heard the tale of my anguish and despair. Whence did they flow
+but from the frustration of schemes projected for her benefit, as they
+were executed with her money and by means which the authority of her
+guardian fully justified? Why have I encountered this contagious
+atmosphere, and explored my way, like a thief, to this recess, but with
+a view to rescue her from poverty and restore to her her own?
+
+"Your scruples are ridiculous and criminal. I treat them with less
+severity, because your youth is raw and your conceptions crude. But if,
+after this proof of the justice of my claim, you hesitate to restore the
+money, I shall treat you as a robber, who has plundered my cabinet and
+refused to refund his spoil."
+
+These reasonings were powerful and new. I was acquainted with the rights
+of guardianship. Welbeck had, in some respects, acted as the friend of
+this lady. To vest himself with this office was the conduct which her
+youth and helplessness prescribed to her friend. His title to this
+money, as her guardian, could not be denied.
+
+But how was this statement compatible with former representations? No
+mention had then been made of guardianship. By thus acting, he would
+have thwarted all his schemes for winning the esteem of mankind and
+fostering the belief which the world entertained of his opulence and
+independence.
+
+I was thrown, by these thoughts, into considerable perplexity. If his
+statement were true, his claim to this money was established; but I
+questioned its truth. To intimate my doubts of his veracity would be to
+provoke abhorrence and outrage.
+
+His last insinuation was peculiarly momentous. Suppose him the
+fraudulent possessor of this money: shall I be justified in taking it
+away by violence under pretence of restoring it to the genuine
+proprietor, who, for aught I know, may be dead, or with whom, at least,
+I may never procure a meeting? But will not my behaviour on this
+occasion be deemed illicit? I entered Welbeck's habitation at midnight,
+proceeded to his closet, possessed myself of portable property, and
+retired unobserved. Is not guilt imputable to an action like this?
+
+Welbeck waited with impatience for a conclusion to my pause. My
+perplexity and indecision did not abate, and my silence continued. At
+length, he repeated his demands, with new vehemence. I was compelled to
+answer. I told him, in few words, that his reasonings had not convinced
+me of the equity of his claim, and that my determination was unaltered.
+
+He had not expected this inflexibility from one in my situation. The
+folly of opposition, when my feebleness and loneliness were contrasted
+with his activity and resources, appeared to him monstrous and glaring;
+but his contempt was converted into rage and fear when he reflected
+that this folly might finally defeat his hopes. He had probably
+determined to obtain the money, let the purchase cost what it would, but
+was willing to exhaust pacific expedients before he should resort to
+force. He might likewise question whether the money was within his
+reach. I had told him that I had it, but whether it was now about me was
+somewhat dubious; yet, though he used no direct inquiries, he chose to
+proceed on the supposition of its being at hand. His angry tones were
+now changed into those of remonstrance and persuasion:--
+
+"Your present behaviour, Mervyn, does not justify the expectation I had
+formed of you. You have been guilty of a base theft. To this you have
+added the deeper crime of ingratitude, but your infatuation and folly
+are, at least, as glaring as your guilt. Do you think I can credit your
+assertions that you keep this money for another, when I recollect that
+six weeks have passed since you carried it off? Why have you not sought
+the owner and restored it to her? If your intentions had been honest,
+would you have suffered so long a time to elapse without doing this? It
+is plain that you designed to keep it for your own use.
+
+"But, whether this were your purpose or not, you have no longer power to
+restore it or retain it. You say that you came hither to die. If so,
+what is to be the fate of the money? In your present situation you
+cannot gain access to the lady. Some other must inherit this wealth.
+Next to _Signora Lodi_, whose right can be put in competition with mine?
+But, if you will not give it to me on my own account, let it be given in
+trust for her. Let me be the bearer of it to her own hands. I have
+already shown you that my claim to it, as her guardian, is legal and
+incontrovertible, but this claim I waive. I will merely be the executor
+of your will. I will bind myself to comply with your directions by any
+oath, however solemn and tremendous, which you shall prescribe."
+
+As long as my own heart acquitted me, these imputations of dishonesty
+affected me but little. They excited no anger, because they originated
+in ignorance, and were rendered plausible to Welbeck by such facts as
+were known to him. It was needless to confute the charge by elaborate
+and circumstantial details.
+
+It was true that my recovery was, in the highest degree, improbable, and
+that my death would put an end to my power over this money; but had I
+not determined to secure its useful application in case of my death?
+This project was obstructed by the presence of Welbeck; but I hoped that
+his love of life would induce him to fly. He might wrest this volume
+from me by violence, or he might wait till my death should give him
+peaceable possession. But these, though probable events, were not
+certain, and would, by no means, justify the voluntary surrender. His
+strength, if employed for this end, could not be resisted; but then it
+would be a sacrifice, not a choice, but necessity.
+
+Promises were easily given, but were surely not to be confided in.
+Welbeck's own tale, in which it could not be imagined that he had
+aggravated his defects, attested the frailty of his virtue. To put into
+his hands a sum like this, in expectation of his delivering it to
+another, when my death would cover the transaction with impenetrable
+secrecy, would be, indeed, a proof of that infatuation which he thought
+proper to impute to me.
+
+These thoughts influenced my resolutions, but they were revolved in
+silence. To state them verbally was useless. They would not justify my
+conduct in his eyes. They would only exasperate dispute, and impel him
+to those acts of violence which I was desirous of preventing. The sooner
+this controversy should end, and I in any measure be freed from the
+obstruction of his company, the better.
+
+"Mr. Welbeck," said I, "my regard to your safety compels me to wish that
+this interview should terminate. At a different time, I should not be
+unwilling to discuss this matter. Now it will be fruitless. My
+conscience points out to me too clearly the path I should pursue for me
+to mistake it. As long as I have power over this money, I shall keep it
+for the use of the unfortunate lady whom I have seen in this house. I
+shall exert myself to find her; but, if that be impossible, I shall
+appropriate it in a way in which you shall have no participation."
+
+I will not repeat the contest that succeeded between my forbearance and
+his passions. I listened to the dictates of his rage and his avarice in
+silence. Astonishment at my inflexibility was blended with his anger. By
+turns he commented on the guilt and on the folly of my resolutions.
+Sometimes his emotions would mount into fury, and he would approach me
+in a menacing attitude, and lift his hand as if he would exterminate me
+at a blow. My languid eyes, my cheeks glowing and my temples throbbing
+with fever, and my total passiveness, attracted his attention and
+arrested his stroke. Compassion would take the place of rage, and the
+belief be revived that remonstrances and arguments would answer his
+purpose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+
+This scene lasted I know not how long. Insensibly the passions and
+reasonings of Welbeck assumed a new form. A grief, mingled with
+perplexity, overspread his countenance. He ceased to contend or to
+speak. His regards were withdrawn from me, on whom they had hitherto
+been fixed; and, wandering or vacant, testified a conflict of mind
+terrible beyond any that my young imagination had ever conceived.
+
+For a time he appeared to be unconscious of my presence. He moved to and
+fro with unequal steps, and with gesticulations that possessed a
+horrible but indistinct significance. Occasionally he struggled for
+breath, and his efforts were directed to remove some choking impediment.
+
+No test of my fortitude had hitherto occurred equal to that to which it
+was now subjected. The suspicion which this deportment suggested was
+vague and formless. The tempest which I witnessed was the prelude of
+horror. These were throes which would terminate in the birth of some
+gigantic and sanguinary purpose. Did he meditate to offer a bloody
+sacrifice? Was his own death or was mine to attest the magnitude of his
+despair or the impetuosity of his vengeance?
+
+Suicide was familiar to his thoughts. He had consented to live but on
+one condition; that of regaining possession of this money. Should I be
+justified in driving him, by my obstinate refusal, to this fatal
+consummation of his crimes? Yet my fear of this catastrophe was
+groundless. Hitherto he had argued and persuaded; but this method was
+pursued because it was more eligible than the employment of force, or
+than procrastination.
+
+No. These were tokens that pointed to me. Some unknown instigation was
+at work within him, to tear away his remnant of humanity and fit him for
+the office of my murderer. I knew not how the accumulation of guilt
+could contribute to his gratification or security. His actions had been
+partially exhibited and vaguely seen. What extenuations or omissions had
+vitiated his former or recent narrative; how far his actual performances
+were congenial with the deed which was now to be perpetrated, I knew
+not.
+
+These thoughts lent new rapidity to my blood. I raised my head from the
+pillow, and watched the deportment of this man with deeper attention.
+The paroxysm which controlled him at length, in some degree, subsided.
+He muttered, "Yes. It must come. My last humiliation must cover me. My
+last confession must be made. To die, and leave behind me this train of
+enormous perils, must not be.
+
+"O Clemenza! O Mervyn! Ye have not merited that I should leave you a
+legacy of persecution and death. Your safety must be purchased at what
+price my malignant destiny will set upon it. The cord of the
+executioner, the note of everlasting infamy, is better than to leave you
+beset by the consequences of my guilt. It must not be."
+
+Saying this, Welbeck cast fearful glances at the windows and door. He
+examined every avenue and listened. Thrice he repeated this scrutiny.
+Having, as it seemed, ascertained that no one lurked within audience, he
+approached the bed. He put his mouth close to my face. He attempted to
+speak, but once more examined the apartment with suspicious glances.
+
+He drew closer, and at length, in a tone scarcely articulate, and
+suffocated with emotion, he spoke:--"Excellent but fatally-obstinate
+youth! Know at least the cause of my importunity. Know at least the
+depth of my infatuation and the enormity of my guilt.
+
+"The bills--surrender them to me, and save yourself from persecution and
+disgrace. Save the woman whom you wish to benefit, from the blackest
+imputations; from hazard to her life and her fame; from languishing in
+dungeons; from expiring on the gallows!
+
+"The bills--oh, save me from the bitterness of death! Let the evils to
+which my miserable life has given birth terminate here and in myself.
+Surrender them to me, for----"
+
+There he stopped. His utterence was choked by terror. Rapid glances were
+again darted at the windows and door. The silence was uninterrupted,
+except by far-off sounds, produced by some moving carriage. Once more he
+summoned resolution, and spoke:--
+
+"Surrender them to me--for--_they are forged_!
+
+"Formerly I told you, that a scheme of forgery had been conceived. Shame
+would not suffer me to add, that my scheme was carried into execution.
+The bills were fashioned, but my fears contended against my necessities,
+and forbade me to attempt to exchange them. The interview with Lodi
+saved me from the dangerous experiment. I enclosed them in that volume,
+as the means of future opulence, to be used when all other and less
+hazardous resources should fail.
+
+"In the agonies of my remorse at the death of Watson, they were
+forgotten. They afterwards recurred to recollection. My wishes pointed
+to the grave; but the stroke that should deliver me from life was
+suspended only till I could hasten hither, get possession of these
+papers, and destroy them.
+
+"When I thought upon the chances that should give them an owner; bring
+them into circulation; load the innocent with suspicion; and lead them
+to trial, and, perhaps, to death, my sensations were fraught with agony;
+earnestly as I panted for death, it was necessarily deferred till I had
+gained possession of and destroyed these papers.
+
+"What now remains? You have found them. Happily they have not been used.
+Give them, therefore, to me, that I may crush at once the brood of
+mischiefs which they could not but generate."
+
+This disclosure was strange. It was accompanied with every token of
+sincerity. How had I tottered on the brink of destruction! If I had made
+use of this money, in what a labyrinth of misery might I not have been
+involved! My innocence could never have been proved. An alliance with
+Welbeck could not have failed to be inferred. My career would have found
+an ignominious close; or, if my punishment had been transmuted into
+slavery and toil, would the testimony of my conscience have supported
+me?
+
+I shuddered at the view of those disasters from which I was rescued by
+the miraculous chance which led me to this house. Welbeck's request was
+salutary to me and honourable to himself. I could not hesitate a moment
+in compliance. The notes were enclosed in paper, and deposited in a fold
+of my clothes. I put my hand upon them.
+
+My motion and attention were arrested, at the instant, by a noise which
+arose in the street. Footsteps were heard upon the pavement before the
+door, and voices, as if busy in discourse. This incident was adapted to
+infuse the deepest alarm into myself and my companion. The motives of
+our trepidation were, indeed, different, and were infinitely more
+powerful in my case than in his. It portended to me nothing less than
+the loss of my asylum, and condemnation to an hospital.
+
+Welbeck hurried to the door, to listen to the conversation below. This
+interval was pregnant with thought. That impulse which led my
+reflections from Welbeck to my own state passed away in a moment, and
+suffered me to meditate anew upon the terms of that confession which had
+just been made.
+
+Horror at the fate which this interview had enabled me to shun was
+uppermost in my conceptions. I was eager to surrender these fatal bills.
+I held them for that purpose in my hand, and was impatient for Welbeck's
+return. He continued at the door; stooping, with his face averted, and
+eagerly attentive to the conversation in the street.
+
+All the circumstances of my present situation tended to arrest the
+progress of thought and chain my contemplations to one image; but even
+now there was room for foresight and deliberation. Welbeck intended to
+destroy these bills. Perhaps he had not been sincere; or, if his
+purpose had been honestly disclosed, this purpose might change when the
+bills were in his possession. His poverty and sanguineness of temper
+might prompt him to use them.
+
+That this conduct was evil, and would only multiply his miseries, could
+not be questioned. Why should I subject his frailty to this temptation?
+The destruction of these bills was the loudest injunction of my duty;
+was demanded by every sanction which bound me to promote the welfare of
+mankind.
+
+The means of destruction was easy. A lighted candle stood on a table, at
+the distance of a few yards. Why should I hesitate a moment to
+annihilate so powerful a cause of error and guilt? A passing instant was
+sufficient. A momentary lingering might change the circumstances that
+surrounded me, and frustrate my project.
+
+My languors were suspended by the urgencies of this occasion. I started
+from my bed and glided to the table. Seizing the notes with my right
+hand, I held them in the flame of the candle, and then threw them,
+blazing, on the floor.
+
+The sudden illumination was perceived by Welbeck. The cause of it
+appeared to suggest itself as soon. He turned, and, marking the paper
+where it lay, leaped to the spot, and extinguished the fire with his
+foot. His interposition was too late. Only enough of them remained to
+inform him of the nature of the sacrifice.
+
+Welbeck now stood, with limbs trembling, features aghast, and eyes
+glaring upon me. For a time he was without speech. The storm was
+gathering in silence, and at length burst upon me. In a tone menacing
+and loud, he exclaimed,--
+
+"Wretch! what have you done?"
+
+"I have done justly. These notes were false. You desired to destroy
+them, that they might not betray the innocent. I applauded your purpose,
+and have saved you from the danger of temptation by destroying them
+myself."
+
+"Maniac! Miscreant! To be fooled by so gross an artifice! The notes were
+genuine. The tale of their forgery was false and meant only to wrest
+them from you. Execrable and perverse idiot! Your deed has sealed my
+perdition. It has sealed your own. You shall pay for it with your blood.
+I will slay you by inches. I will stretch you, as you have stretched me,
+on the rack."
+
+During this speech, all was frenzy and storm in the countenance and
+features of Welbeck. Nothing less could be expected than that the scene
+would terminate in some bloody catastrophe. I bitterly regretted the
+facility with which I had been deceived, and the precipitation of my
+sacrifice. The act, however lamentable, could not be revoked. What
+remained but to encounter or endure its consequences with unshrinking
+firmness?
+
+The contest was too unequal. It is possible that the frenzy which
+actuated Welbeck might have speedily subsided. It is more likely that
+his passions would have been satiated with nothing but my death. This
+event was precluded by loud knocks at the street door, and calls by some
+one on the pavement without, of--"Who is within? Is any one within?"
+
+These noises gave a new direction to Welbeck's thoughts. "They are
+coming," said he. "They will treat you as a sick man and a thief. I
+cannot desire you to suffer a worse evil than they will inflict. I leave
+you to your fate." So saying, he rushed out of the room.
+
+Though confounded and stunned by this rapid succession of events, I was
+yet able to pursue measures for eluding these detested visitants. I
+first extinguished the light, and then, observing that the parley in the
+street continued and grew louder, I sought an asylum in the remotest
+corner of the house. During my former abode here, I noticed that a
+trap-door opened in the ceiling of the third story, to which you were
+conducted by a movable stair or ladder. I considered that this,
+probably, was an opening into a narrow and darksome nook formed by the
+angle of the roof. By ascending, drawing after me the ladder, and
+closing the door, I should escape the most vigilant search.
+
+Enfeebled as I was by my disease, my resolution rendered me strenuous. I
+gained the uppermost room, and, mounting the ladder, found myself at a
+sufficient distance from suspicion. The stair was hastily drawn up, and
+the door closed. In a few minutes, however, my new retreat proved to be
+worse than any for which it was possible to change it. The air was
+musty, stagnant, and scorchingly hot. My breathing became difficult, and
+I saw that to remain here ten minutes would unavoidably produce
+suffocation.
+
+My terror of intruders had rendered me blind to the consequences of
+immuring myself in this cheerless recess. It was incumbent on me to
+extricate myself as speedily as possible. I attempted to lift the door.
+My first effort was successless. Every inspiration was quicker and more
+difficult than the former. As my terror, so my strength and my exertions
+increased. Finally my trembling hand lighted on a nail that was
+imperfectly driven into the wood, and which, by affording me a firmer
+hold, enabled me at length to raise it, and to inhale the air from
+beneath.
+
+Relieved from my new peril by this situation, I bent an attentive ear
+through the opening, with a view to ascertain if the house had been
+entered or if the outer door was still beset, but could hear nothing.
+Hence I was authorized to conclude that the people had departed, and
+that I might resume my former station without hazard.
+
+Before I descended, however, I cast a curious eye over this recess. It
+was large enough to accommodate a human being. The means by which it was
+entered were easily concealed. Though narrow and low, it was long, and,
+were it possible to contrive some inlet for the air, one studious of
+concealment might rely on its protection with unbounded confidence.
+
+My scrutiny was imperfect by reason of the faint light which found its
+way through the opening; yet it was sufficient to set me afloat on a sea
+of new wonders and subject my fortitude to a new test.--
+
+Here Mervyn paused in his narrative. A minute passed in silence and
+seeming indecision. His perplexities gradually disappeared, and he
+continued:--
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I have promised to relate the momentous incidents of my life, and have
+hitherto been faithful in my enumeration. There is nothing which I more
+detest than equivocation and mystery. Perhaps, however, I shall now
+incur some imputation of that kind. I would willingly escape the
+accusation, but confess that I am hopeless of escaping it.
+
+I might, indeed, have precluded your guesses and surmises by omitting to
+relate what befell me from the time of my leaving my chamber till I
+regained it. I might deceive you by asserting that nothing remarkable
+occurred; but this would be false, and every sacrifice is trivial which
+is made upon the altar of sincerity. Besides, the time may come when no
+inconvenience will arise from minute descriptions of the objects which I
+now saw, and of the reasonings and inferences which they suggested to my
+understanding. At present, it appears to be my duty to pass them over in
+silence; but it would be needless to conceal from you that the interval,
+though short, and the scrutiny, though hasty, furnished matter which my
+curiosity devoured with unspeakable eagerness, and from which
+consequences may hereafter flow, deciding on my peace and my life.
+
+Nothing, however, occurred which could detain me long in this spot. I
+once more sought the lower story and threw myself on the bed which I had
+left. My mind was thronged with the images flowing from my late
+adventure. My fever had gradually increased, and my thoughts were
+deformed by inaccuracy and confusion.
+
+My heart did not sink when I reverted to my own condition. That I should
+quickly be disabled from moving, was readily perceived. The foresight of
+my destiny was steadfast and clear. To linger for days in this
+comfortless solitude, to ask in vain, not for powerful restoratives or
+alleviating cordials, but for water to moisten my burning lips and abate
+the torments of thirst; ultimately to expire in torpor or frenzy, was
+the fate to which I looked forward; yet I was not terrified. I seemed to
+be sustained by a preternatural energy. I felt as if the opportunity of
+combating such evils was an enviable privilege, and, though none would
+witness my victorious magnanimity, yet to be conscious that praise was
+my due was all that my ambition required.
+
+These sentiments were doubtless tokens of delirium. The excruciating
+agonies which now seized upon my head, and the cord which seemed to be
+drawn across my breast, and which, as my fancy imagined, was tightened
+by some forcible hand, with a view to strangle me, were incompatible
+with sober and coherent views.
+
+Thirst was the evil which chiefly oppressed me. The means of relief was
+pointed out by nature and habit. I rose, and determined to replenish my
+pitcher at the well. It was easier, however, to descend than to return.
+My limbs refused to bear me, and I sat down upon the lower step of the
+staircase. Several hours had elapsed since my entrance into this
+dwelling, and it was now night.
+
+My imagination now suggested a new expedient. Medlicote was a generous
+and fearless spirit. To put myself under his protection, if I could walk
+as far as his lodgings, was the wisest proceeding which I could adopt.
+From this design, my incapacity to walk thus far, and the consequences
+of being discovered in the street, had hitherto deterred me. These
+impediments were now, in the confusion of my understanding, overlooked
+or despised, and I forthwith set out upon this hopeless expedition.
+
+The doors communicating with the court, and, through the court, with the
+street, were fastened by inside bolts. These were easily withdrawn, and
+I issued forth with alacrity and confidence. My perturbed senses and the
+darkness hindered me from discerning the right way. I was conscious of
+this difficulty, but was not disheartened. I proceeded, as I have since
+discovered, in a direction different from the true, but hesitated not
+till my powers were exhausted and I sunk upon the ground. I closed my
+eyes, and dismissed all fear, and all foresight of futurity. In this
+situation I remained some hours, and should probably have expired on
+this spot, had not I attracted your notice, and been provided, under
+this roof, with all that medical skill, that the tenderest humanity
+could suggest.
+
+In consequence of your care, I have been restored to life and to health.
+Your conduct was not influenced by the prospect of pecuniary recompense,
+of service, or of gratitude. It is only in one way that I am able to
+heighten the gratification which must flow from reflection on your
+conduct:--by showing that the being whose life you have prolonged,
+though uneducated, ignorant, and poor, is not profligate and worthless,
+and will not dedicate that life which your bounty has given, to
+mischievous or contemptible purposes.
+
+
+END OF VOL I.
+
+
+
+
+ARTHUR MERVYN;
+
+OR,
+
+MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 1793.
+
+VOL. II.
+
+
+
+
+ARTHUR MERVYN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+
+Here ended the narrative of Mervyn. Surely its incidents were of no
+common kind. During this season of pestilence, my opportunities of
+observation had been numerous, and I had not suffered them to pass
+unimproved. The occurrences which fell within my own experience bore a
+general resemblance to those which had just been related, but they did
+not hinder the latter from striking on my mind with all the force of
+novelty. They served no end, but as vouchers for the truth of the tale.
+
+Surely the youth had displayed inimitable and heroic qualities. His
+courage was the growth of benevolence and reason, and not the child of
+insensibility and the nursling of habit. He had been qualified for the
+encounter of gigantic dangers by no laborious education. He stepped
+forth upon the stage, unfurnished, by anticipation or experience, with
+the means of security against fraud; and yet, by the aid of pure
+intentions, had frustrated the wiles of an accomplished and veteran
+deceiver.
+
+I blessed the chance which placed the youth under my protection. When I
+reflected on that tissue of nice contingencies which led him to my door,
+and enabled me to save from death a being of such rare endowments, my
+heart overflowed with joy, not unmingled with regrets and trepidation.
+How many have been cut off by this disease, in their career of virtue
+and their blossom-time of genius! How many deeds of heroism and
+self-devotion are ravished from existence, and consigned to hopeless
+oblivion!
+
+I had saved the life of this youth. This was not the limit of my duty or
+my power. Could I not render that life profitable to himself and to
+mankind? The gains of my profession were slender; but these gains were
+sufficient for his maintenance as well as my own. By residing with me,
+partaking my instructions, and reading my books, he would, in a few
+years, be fitted for the practice of physic. A science whose truths are
+so conducive to the welfare of mankind, and which comprehends the whole
+system of nature, could not but gratify a mind so beneficent and
+strenuous as his.
+
+This scheme occurred to me as soon as the conclusion of his tale allowed
+me to think. I did not immediately mention it, since the approbation of
+my wife, of whose concurrence, however, I entertained no doubt, was
+previously to be obtained. Dismissing it, for the present, from my
+thoughts, I reverted to the incidents of his tale.
+
+The lady whom Welbeck had betrayed and deserted was not unknown to me. I
+was but too well acquainted with her fate. If she had been single in
+calamity, her tale would have been listened to with insupportable
+sympathy; but the frequency of the spectacle of distress seems to lessen
+the compassion with which it is reviewed. Now that those scenes are only
+remembered, my anguish is greater than when they were witnessed. Then
+every new day was only a repetition of the disasters of the foregoing.
+My sensibility, if not extinguished, was blunted; and I gazed upon the
+complicated ills of poverty and sickness with a degree of unconcern on
+which I should once have reflected with astonishment.
+
+The fate of Clemenza Lodi was not, perhaps, more signal than many which
+have occurred. It threw detestable light upon the character of Welbeck,
+and showed him to be more inhuman than the tale of Mervyn had evinced
+him to be. That man, indeed, was hitherto imperfectly seen. The time had
+not come which should fully unfold the enormity of his transgressions
+and the complexity of his frauds.
+
+There lived in a remote quarter of the city a woman, by name Villars,
+who passed for the widow of an English officer. Her manners and mode of
+living were specious. She had three daughters, well trained in the
+school of fashion, and elegant in person, manners, and dress. They had
+lately arrived from Europe, and, for a time, received from their
+neighbours that respect to which their education and fortune appeared to
+lay claim.
+
+The fallacy of their pretensions slowly appeared. It began to be
+suspected that their subsistence was derived not from pension or
+patrimony, but from the wages of pollution. Their habitation was
+clandestinely frequented by men who were unfaithful to their secret; one
+of these was allied to me by ties which authorized me in watching his
+steps and detecting his errors, with a view to his reformation. From him
+I obtained a knowledge of the genuine character of these women.
+
+A man like Welbeck, who was the slave of depraved appetites, could not
+fail of being quickly satiated with innocence and beauty. Some accident
+introduced him to the knowledge of this family, and the youngest
+daughter found him a proper subject on which to exercise her artifices.
+It was to the frequent demands made upon his purse, by this woman, that
+part of the embarrassments in which Mervyn found him involved are to be
+ascribed.
+
+To this circumstance must likewise be imputed his anxiety to transfer to
+some other the possession of the unhappy stranger. Why he concealed from
+Mervyn his connection with Lucy Villars may be easily imagined. His
+silence with regard to Clemenza's asylum will not create surprise, when
+it was told that she was placed with Mrs. Villars. On what conditions
+she was received under this roof, cannot be so readily conjectured. It
+is obvious, however, to suppose that advantage was to be taken of her
+ignorance and weakness, and that they hoped, in time, to make her an
+associate in their profligate schemes.
+
+The appearance of pestilence, meanwhile, threw them into panic, and they
+hastened to remove from danger. Mrs. Villars appears to have been a
+woman of no ordinary views. She stooped to the vilest means of amassing
+money; but this money was employed to secure to herself and her
+daughters the benefits of independence. She purchased the house which
+she occupied in the city, and a mansion in the environs, well built and
+splendidly furnished. To the latter, she and her family, of which the
+Italian girl was now a member, retired at the close of July.
+
+I have mentioned that the source of my intelligence was a kinsman, who
+had been drawn from the paths of sobriety and rectitude by the
+impetuosity of youthful passions. He had power to confess and deplore,
+but none to repair, his errors. One of these women held him by a spell
+which he struggled in vain to dissolve, and by which, in spite of
+resolutions and remorses, he was drawn to her feet, and made to
+sacrifice to her pleasure his reputation and his fortune.
+
+My house was his customary abode during those intervals in which he was
+persuaded to pursue his profession. Some time before the infection began
+its progress, he had disappeared. No tidings were received of him, till
+a messenger arrived, entreating my assistance. I was conducted to the
+house of Mrs. Villars, in which I found no one but my kinsman. Here, it
+seems, he had immured himself from my inquiries, and, on being seized by
+the reigning malady, had been deserted by the family, who, ere they
+departed, informed me by a messenger of his condition.
+
+Despondency combined with his disease to destroy him. Before he died, he
+informed me fully of the character of his betrayers. The late arrival,
+name, and personal condition of Clemenza Lodi were related. Welbeck was
+not named, but was described in terms which, combined with the narrative
+of Mervyn, enabled me to recognise the paramour of Lucy Villars in the
+man whose crimes had been the principal theme of our discourse.
+
+Mervyn's curiosity was greatly roused when I intimated my acquaintance
+with the fate of Clemenza. In answer to his eager interrogations, I
+related what I knew. The tale plunged him into reverie. Recovering, at
+length, from his thoughtfulness, he spoke:--
+
+"Her condition is perilous. The poverty of Welbeck will drive him far
+from her abode. Her profligate protectors will entice her or abandon her
+to ruin. Cannot she be saved?"
+
+"I know not," answered I, "by what means."
+
+"The means are obvious. Let her remove to some other dwelling. Let her
+be apprized of the vices of those who surround her. Let her be entreated
+to fly. The will need only be inspired, the danger need only be shown,
+and she is safe, for she will remove beyond its reach."
+
+"Thou art an adventurous youth. Who wilt thou find to undertake the
+office? Who will be persuaded to enter the house of a stranger, seek
+without an introduction the presence of this girl, tell her that the
+house she inhabits is a house of prostitution, prevail on her to believe
+the tale, and persuade her to accompany him? Who will open his house to
+the fugitive? Whom will you convince that her illicit intercourse with
+Welbeck, of which the opprobrious tokens cannot be concealed, has not
+fitted her for the company of prostitutes, and made her unworthy of
+protection? Who will adopt into their family a stranger whose conduct
+has incurred infamy, and whose present associates have, no doubt, made
+her worthy of the curse?"
+
+"True. These are difficulties which I did not foresee. Must she then
+perish? Shall not something be done to rescue her from infamy and
+guilt?"
+
+"It is neither in your power nor in mine to do any thing."
+
+The lateness of the hour put an end to our conversation and summoned us
+to repose. I seized the first opportunity of imparting to my wife the
+scheme which had occurred, relative to our guest; with which, as I
+expected, she readily concurred. In the morning, I mentioned it to
+Mervyn. I dwelt upon the benefits that adhered to the medical
+profession, the power which it confers of lightening the distresses of
+our neighbours, the dignity which popular opinion annexes to it, the
+avenue which it opens to the acquisition of competence, the freedom from
+servile cares which attends it, and the means of intellectual
+gratification with which it supplies us.
+
+As I spoke, his eyes sparkled with joy. "Yes," said he, with vehemence,
+"I willingly embrace your offer. I accept this benefit, because I know
+that, if my pride should refuse it, I should prove myself less worthy
+than you think, and give you pain, instead of that pleasure which I am
+bound to confer. I would enter on the duties and studies of my new
+profession immediately; but somewhat is due to Mr. Hadwin and his
+daughters. I cannot vanquish my inquietudes respecting them, but by
+returning to Malverton and ascertaining their state with my own eyes.
+You know in what circumstances I parted with Wallace and Mr. Hadwin. I
+am not sure that either of them ever reached home, or that they did not
+carry the infection along with them. I now find myself sufficiently
+strong to perform the journey, and purposed to have acquainted you, at
+this interview, with my intentions. An hour's delay is superfluous, and
+I hope you will consent to my setting out immediately. Rural exercise
+and air, for a week or fortnight, will greatly contribute to my health."
+
+No objection could be made to this scheme. His narrative had excited no
+common affection in our bosoms for the Hadwins. His visit could not only
+inform us of their true state, but would dispel that anxiety which they
+could not but entertain respecting our guest. It was a topic of some
+surprise that neither Wallace nor Hadwin had returned to the city, with
+a view to obtain some tidings of their friend. It was more easy to
+suppose them to have been detained by some misfortune, than by
+insensibility or indolence. In a few minutes Mervyn bade us adieu, and
+set out upon his journey, promising to acquaint us with the state of
+affairs as soon as possible after his arrival. We parted from him with
+reluctance, and found no consolation but in the prospect of his speedy
+return.
+
+During his absence, conversation naturally turned upon those topics
+which were suggested by the narrative and deportment of this youth.
+Different conclusions were formed by his two auditors. They had both
+contracted a deep interest in his welfare, and an ardent curiosity as to
+those particulars which his unfinished story had left in obscurity. The
+true character and actual condition of Welbeck were themes of much
+speculation. Whether he were dead or alive, near or distant from his
+ancient abode, was a point on which neither Mervyn, nor any of those
+with whom I had means of intercourse, afforded any information. Whether
+he had shared the common fate, and had been carried by the collectors of
+the dead from the highway or the hovel to the pits opened alike for the
+rich and the poor, the known and the unknown; whether he had escaped to
+a foreign shore, or were destined to reappear upon this stage, were
+questions involved in uncertainty.
+
+The disappearance of Watson would, at a different time, have excited
+much inquiry and suspicion; but, as this had taken place on the eve of
+the epidemic, his kindred and friends would acquiesce, without scruple,
+in the belief that he had been involved in the general calamity, and was
+to be numbered among the earliest victims. Those of his profession
+usually resided in the street where the infection began, and where its
+ravages had been most destructive; and this circumstance would
+corroborate the conclusions of his friends.
+
+I did not perceive any immediate advantage to flow from imparting the
+knowledge I had lately gained to others. Shortly after Mervyn's
+departure to Malverton, I was visited by Wortley. Inquiring for my
+guest, I told him that, having recovered his health, he had left my
+house. He repeated his invectives against the villany of Welbeck, his
+suspicions of Mervyn, and his wishes for another interview with the
+youth. Why had I suffered him to depart, and whither had he gone?
+
+"He has gone for a short time into the country. I expect him to return
+in less than a week, when you will meet with him here as often as you
+please, for I expect him to take up his abode in this house."
+
+Much astonishment and disapprobation were expressed by my friend. I
+hinted that the lad had made disclosures to me, which justified my
+confidence in his integrity. These proofs of his honesty were not of a
+nature to be indiscriminately unfolded. Mervyn had authorized me to
+communicate so much of his story to Wortley, as would serve to vindicate
+him from the charge of being Welbeck's co-partner in fraud; but this end
+would only be counteracted by an imperfect tale, and the full recital,
+though it might exculpate Mervyn, might produce inconveniences by which
+this advantage would be outweighed.
+
+Wortley, as might be naturally expected, was by no means satisfied with
+this statement. He suspected that Mervyn was a wily impostor; that he
+had been trained in the arts of fraud, under an accomplished teacher;
+that the tale which he had told to me was a tissue of ingenious and
+plausible lies; that the mere assertions, however plausible and solemn,
+of one like him, whose conduct had incurred such strong suspicions, were
+unworthy of the least credit.
+
+"It cannot be denied," continued my friend, "that he lived with Welbeck
+at the time of his elopement; that they disappeared together; that they
+entered a boat, at Pine Street wharf, at midnight; that this boat was
+discovered by the owner in the possession of a fisherman at Redbank, who
+affirmed that he had found it stranded near his door, the day succeeding
+that on which they disappeared. Of all this I can supply you with
+incontestable proof. If, after this proof, you can give credit to his
+story, I shall think you made of very perverse and credulous materials."
+
+"The proof you mention," said I, "will only enhance his credibility. All
+the facts which you have stated have been admitted by him. They
+constitute an essential portion of his narrative."
+
+"What then is the inference? Are not these evidences of a compact
+between them? Has he not acknowledged this compact in confessing that he
+knew Welbeck was my debtor; that he was apprized of his flight, but that
+(what matchless effrontery!) he had promised secrecy, and would, by no
+means, betray him? You say he means to return; but of that I doubt. You
+will never see his face more. He is too wise to thrust himself again
+into the noose; but I do not utterly despair of lighting upon Welbeck.
+Old Thetford, Jamieson, and I, have sworn to hunt him through the world.
+I have strong hopes that he has not strayed far. Some intelligence has
+lately been received, which has enabled us to place our hounds upon his
+scent. He may double and skulk; but, if he does not fall into our toils
+at last, he will have the agility and cunning, as well as the malignity,
+of devils."
+
+The vengeful disposition thus betrayed by Wortley was not without
+excuse. The vigour of his days had been spent in acquiring a slender
+capital; his diligence and honesty had succeeded, and he had lately
+thought his situation such as to justify marriage with an excellent
+woman, to whom he had for years been betrothed, but from whom his
+poverty had hitherto compelled him to live separate. Scarcely had this
+alliance taken place, and the full career of nuptial enjoyments begun,
+when his ill fate exposed him to the frauds of Welbeck, and brought him,
+in one evil hour, to the brink of insolvency.
+
+Jamieson and Thetford, however, were rich, and I had not till now been
+informed that they had reasons for pursuing Welbeck with peculiar
+animosity. The latter was the uncle of him whose fate had been related
+by Mervyn, and was one of those who employed money, not as the medium of
+traffic, but as in itself a commodity. He had neither wines nor cloths,
+to transmute into silver. He thought it a tedious process to exchange
+to-day one hundred dollars for a cask or bale, and to-morrow exchange
+the bale or cask for one hundred _and ten_ dollars. It was better to
+give the hundred for a piece of paper, which, carried forthwith to the
+money-changers, he could procure a hundred twenty-three and
+three-fourths. In short, this man's coffers were supplied by the despair
+of honest men and the stratagems of rogues. I did not immediately
+suspect how this man's prudence and indefatigable attention to his own
+interest should allow him to become the dupe of Welbeck.
+
+"What," said I, "is old Thetford's claim upon Welbeck?"
+
+"It is a claim," he replied, "that, if it ever be made good, will doom
+Welbeck to imprisonment and wholesome labour for life."
+
+"How? Surely it is nothing more than debt."
+
+"Have you not heard? But that is no wonder. Happily you are a stranger
+to mercantile anxieties and revolutions. Your fortune does not rest on a
+basis which an untoward blast may sweep away, or four strokes of a pen
+may demolish. That hoary dealer in suspicions was persuaded to put his
+hand to three notes for eight hundred dollars each. The _eight_ was then
+dexterously prolonged to eigh_teen_; they were duly deposited in time
+and place, and the next day Welbeck was credited for fifty-three hundred
+and seventy-three, which, an hour after, were _told out_ to his
+messenger. Hard to say whether the old man's grief, shame, or rage, be
+uppermost. He disdains all comfort but revenge, and that he will procure
+at any price. Jamieson, who deals in the same _stuff_ with Thetford, was
+outwitted in the same manner, to the same amount, and on the same day.
+
+"This Welbeck must have powers above the common rate of mortals. Grown
+gray in studying the follies and the stratagems of men, these veterans
+were overreached. No one pities them. 'Twere well if his artifices had
+been limited to such, and he had spared the honest and the poor. It is
+for his injuries to men who have earned their scanty subsistence without
+forfeiting their probity, that I hate him, and shall exult to see him
+suffer all the rigours of the law." Here Wortley's engagements compelled
+him to take his leave.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+
+While musing upon these facts, I could not but reflect with astonishment
+on the narrow escapes which Mervyn's virtue had experienced. I was by no
+means certain that his fame or his life was exempt from all danger, or
+that the suspicions which had already been formed respecting him could
+possibly be wiped away. Nothing but his own narrative, repeated with
+that simple but nervous eloquence which we had witnessed, could rescue
+him from the most heinous charges. Was there any tribunal that would not
+acquit him on merely hearing his defence?
+
+Surely the youth was honest. His tale could not be the fruit of
+invention; and yet, what are the bounds of fraud? Nature has set no
+limits to the combinations of fancy. A smooth exterior, a show of
+virtue, and a specious tale, are, a thousand times, exhibited in human
+intercourse by craft and subtlety. Motives are endlessly varied, while
+actions continue the same; and an acute penetration may not find it hard
+to select and arrange motives, suited to exempt from censure any action
+that a human being can commit.
+
+Had I heard Mervyn's story from another, or read it in a book, I might,
+perhaps, have found it possible to suspect the truth; but, as long as
+the impression made by his tones, gestures, and looks, remained in my
+memory, this suspicion was impossible. Wickedness may sometimes be
+ambiguous, its mask may puzzle the observer; our judgment may be made to
+falter and fluctuate, but the face of Mervyn is the index of an honest
+mind. Calm or vehement, doubting or confident, it is full of benevolence
+and candour. He that listens to his words may question their truth, but
+he that looks upon his countenance when speaking cannot withhold his
+faith.
+
+It was possible, however, to find evidence supporting or confuting his
+story. I chanced to be acquainted with a family, by name Althorpe, who
+were natives of that part of the country where his father resided. I
+paid them a visit, and, after a few preliminaries, mentioned, as if by
+accident, the name of Mervyn. They immediately recognised this name as
+belonging to one of their ancient neighbours. The death of the wife and
+sons, and the seduction of the only daughter by Colvill, with many
+pathetic incidents connected with the fate of this daughter, were
+mentioned.
+
+This intelligence induced me to inquire of Mrs. Althorpe, a sensible and
+candid woman, if she were acquainted with the recent or present
+situation of this family.
+
+"I cannot say much," she answered, "of my own knowledge. Since my
+marriage, I am used to spend a few weeks of summer at my father's, but
+am less inquisitive than I once was into the concerns of my old
+neighbours. I recollect, however, when there, last year, during _the
+fever_, to have heard that Sawny Mervyn had taken a second wife; that
+his only son, a youth of eighteen, had thought proper to be highly
+offended with his father's conduct, and treated the new mistress of the
+house with insult and contempt. I should not much wonder at this, seeing
+children are so apt to deem themselves unjustly treated by a second
+marriage of their parent; but it was hinted that the boy's jealousy and
+discontent were excited by no common cause. The new mother was not much
+older than himself, had been a servant of the family, and a criminal
+intimacy had subsisted between her, while in that condition, and the
+son. Her marriage with his father was justly accounted by their
+neighbours a most profligate and odious transaction. The son, perhaps,
+had, in such a case, a right to scold, but he ought not to have carried
+his anger to such extremes as have been imputed to him. He is said to
+have grinned upon her with contempt, and even to have called her
+_strumpet_ in the presence of his father and of strangers.
+
+"It was impossible for such a family to keep together. Arthur took leave
+one night to possess himself of all his father's cash, mount the best
+horse in his meadow, and elope. For a time, no one knew whither he had
+gone. At last, one was said to have met with him in the streets of this
+city, metamorphosed from a rustic lad into a fine gentleman. Nothing
+could be quicker than this change, for he left the country on a Saturday
+morning, and was seen in a French frock and silk stockings, going into
+Christ's Church the next day. I suppose he kept it up with a high hand,
+as long as his money lasted.
+
+"My lather paid us a visit last week, and, among other country-news,
+told us that Sawny Mervyn had sold his place. His wife had persuaded him
+to try his fortune in the Western country. The price of his hundred
+acres here would purchase a thousand there, and the man, being very
+gross and ignorant, and, withal, quite a simpleton, found no difficulty
+in perceiving that a thousand are ten times more than a hundred. He was
+not aware that a rood of ground upon Schuylkill is tenfold better than
+an acre on the Tennessee.
+
+"The woman turned out to be an artful profligate. Having sold his ground
+and gotten his money, he placed it in her keeping, and she, to enjoy it
+with the more security, ran away to the city; leaving him to prosecute
+his journey to Kentucky moneyless and alone. Some time after, Mr.
+Althorpe and I were at the play, when he pointed out to me a group of
+females in an upper box, one of whom was no other than Betty Lawrence.
+It was not easy to recognise, in her present gaudy trim, all flaunting
+with ribbons and shining with trinkets, the same Betty who used to deal
+out pecks of potatoes and superintend her basket of cantaloupes in the
+Jersey market, in pasteboard bonnet and linsey petticoat. Her companions
+were of the infamous class. If Arthur were still in the city, there is
+no doubt that the mother and son might renew the ancient terms of their
+acquaintance.
+
+"The old man, thus robbed and betrayed, sought consolation in the
+bottle, of which he had been at all times over-fond. He wandered from
+one tavern to another till his credit was exhausted, and then was sent
+to jail, where, I believe, he is likely to continue till his death.
+Such, my friend, is the history of the Mervyns."
+
+"What proof," said I, "have you of the immoral conduct of the son? Of
+his mistreatment of his mother, and his elopement with his father's
+horse and money?"
+
+"I have no proof but the unanimous report of Mervyn's neighbours.
+Respectable and honest men have affirmed, in my hearing, that they had
+been present when the boy treated his mother in the way that I have
+described. I was, besides, once in company with the old man, and heard
+him bitterly inveigh against his son, and charge him with the fact of
+stealing his horse and money. I well remember that tears rolled from his
+eyes while talking on the subject. As to his being seen in the city the
+next day after his elopement, dressed in a most costly and fashionable
+manner, I can doubt that as little as the rest, for he that saw him was
+my father, and you, who know my father, know what credit is due to his
+eyes and his word. He had seen Arthur often enough not to be mistaken,
+and described his appearance with great exactness. The boy is extremely
+handsome, give him his due; has dark hazel eyes, auburn hair, and very
+elegant proportions. His air and gait have nothing of the clown in them.
+Take away his jacket and trousers, and you have as spruce a fellow as
+ever came from dancing-school or college. He is the exact picture of his
+mother, and the most perfect contrast to the sturdy legs, squat figure,
+and broad, unthinking, sheepish face of the father that can be imagined.
+You must confess that his appearance here is a pretty strong proof of
+the father's assertions. The money given for these clothes could not
+possibly have been honestly acquired. It is to be presumed that they
+were bought or stolen, for how else should they have been gotten?"
+
+"What was this lad's personal deportment during the life of his mother,
+and before his father's second marriage?"
+
+"Very little to the credit of his heart or his intellects. Being the
+youngest son, the only one who at length survived, and having a
+powerful resemblance to herself, he became the mother's favourite. His
+constitution was feeble, and he loved to stroll in the woods more than
+to plough or sow. This idleness was much against his father's
+inclination and judgment; and, indeed, it was the foundation of all his
+vices. When he could be prevailed upon to do any thing it was in a
+bungling manner, and so as to prove that his thoughts were fixed on any
+thing except his business. When his assistance was wanted he was never
+to be found at hand. They were compelled to search for him among the
+rocks and bushes, and he was generally discovered sauntering along the
+bank of a river, or lolling in the shade of a tree. This disposition to
+inactivity and laziness, in so young a man, was very strange. Persons of
+his age are rarely fond of work, but then they are addicted to company,
+and sports, and exercises. They ride, or shoot, or frolic; but this
+being moped away his time in solitude, never associated with other young
+people, never mounted a horse but when he could not help it, and never
+fired a gun or angled for a fish in his life. Some people supposed him
+to be half an idiot, or, at least, not to be right in his mind; and,
+indeed, his conduct was so very perverse and singular, that I do not
+wonder at those who accounted for it in this way."
+
+"But surely," said I, "he had some object of pursuit. Perhaps he was
+addicted to books."
+
+"Far from it. On the contrary, his aversion to school was as great as
+his hatred of the plough. He never could get his lessons or bear the
+least constraint. He was so much indulged by his mother at home, that
+tasks and discipline of any kind were intolerable. He was a perpetual
+truant; till, the master one day attempting to strike him, he ran out of
+the room and never entered it more. The mother excused and countenanced
+his frowardness, and the foolish father was obliged to give way. I do
+not believe he had two months' schooling in his life."
+
+"Perhaps," said I, "he preferred studying by himself, and at liberty. I
+have known boys endowed with great curiosity and aptitude to learning,
+who never could endure set tasks, and spurned at the pedagogue and his
+rod."
+
+"I have known such likewise, but this was not one of them. I know not
+whence he could derive his love of knowledge or the means of acquiring
+it. The family were totally illiterate. The father was a Scotch peasant,
+whose ignorance was so great that he could not sign his name. His wife,
+I believe, could read, and might sometimes decipher the figures in an
+almanac; but that was all. I am apt to think that the son's ability was
+not much greater. You might as well look for silver platters or marble
+tables in his house, as for a book or a pen.
+
+"I remember calling at their house one evening in the winter before
+last. It was intensely cold; and my father, who rode with me, having
+business with Sawny Mervyn, we stopped a minute at his gate; and, while
+the two old men were engaged in conversation, I begged leave to warm
+myself by the kitchen fire. Here, in the chimney-corner, seated on a
+block, I found Arthur busily engaged in _knitting stockings_! I thought
+this a whimsical employment for a young active man. I told him so, for I
+wanted to put him to the blush; but he smiled in my face, and answered,
+without the least discomposure, 'Just as whimsical a business for a
+young active woman. Pray, did you never knit a stocking?'
+
+"'Yes; but that was from necessity. Were I of a different sex, or did I
+possess the strength of a man, I should rather work in my field or study
+my book.'
+
+"'Rejoice that you are a woman, then, and are at liberty to pursue that
+which costs least labour and demands most skill. You see, though a man,
+I use your privilege, and prefer knitting yarn to threshing my brain
+with a book or the barn-floor with a flail.'
+
+"'I wonder,' said I, contemptuously, 'you do not put on the petticoat as
+well as handle the needle.'
+
+"'Do not wonder,' he replied; 'it is because I hate a petticoat
+encumbrance as much as I love warm feet. Look there,' (offering the
+stocking to my inspection:) 'is it not well done?'
+
+"I did not touch it, but sneeringly said, 'Excellent! I wonder you do
+not apprentice yourself to a tailor.'
+
+"He looked at me with an air of ridiculous simplicity, and said, 'How
+prone the woman is to _wonder_! You call the work excellent, and yet
+_wonder_ that I do not make myself a slave to improve my skill! Did you
+learn needlework from seven years' squatting on a tailor's board? Had
+you come to me, I would have taught you in a day.'
+
+"'I was taught at school.'
+
+"'And paid your instructor?'
+
+"'To-be-sure.'
+
+"''Twas liberty and money thrown away. Send your sister, if you have
+one, to me, and I will teach her without either rod or wages. Will you?'
+
+"'You have an old and a violent antipathy, I believe, to any thing like
+a school.'
+
+"'True. It was early and violent. Had not you?'
+
+"'No. I went to school with pleasure; for I thought to read and write
+were accomplishments of some value.'
+
+"'Indeed? Then I misunderstood you just now. I thought you said that,
+had you the strength of a man, you should prefer the plough and the book
+to the needle. Whence, supposing you a female, I inferred that you had a
+woman's love for the needle and a fool's hatred of books.'
+
+"My father calling me from without, I now made a motion to go. 'Stay,'
+continued he, with great earnestness, throwing aside his
+knitting-apparatus, and beginning in great haste to pull off his
+stockings. 'Draw these stockings over your shoes. They will save your
+feet from the snow while walking to your horse.'
+
+"Half angry, and half laughing, I declined the offer. He had drawn them
+off, however, and, holding them in his hand, 'Be persuaded,' said he;
+'only lift your feet, and I will slip them on in a trice.'
+
+"Finding me positive in my refusal, he dropped the stockings; and,
+without more ado, caught me up in his arms, rushed out of the room, and,
+running barefoot through the snow, set me fairly on my horse. All was
+done in a moment, and before I had time to reflect on his intentions. He
+then seized my hand, and, kissing it with great fervour, exclaimed, 'A
+thousand thanks to you for not accepting my stockings. You have thereby
+saved yourself and me the time and toil of drawing on and drawing off.
+Since you have taught me to wonder, let me practise the lesson in
+wondering at your folly, in wearing worsted shoes and silk stockings at
+a season like this. Take my counsel, and turn your silk to worsted and
+your worsted to leather. Then may you hope for warm feet and dry. What!
+Leave the gate without a blessing on your counsellor?'
+
+"I spurred my horse into a gallop, glad to escape from so strange a
+being. I could give you many instances of behaviour equally singular,
+and which betrayed a mixture of shrewdness and folly, of kindness and
+impudence, which justified, perhaps, the common notion that his
+intellects were unsound. Nothing was more remarkable than his
+impenetrability to ridicule and censure. You might revile him for hours,
+and he would listen to you with invincible composure. To awaken anger or
+shame in him was impossible. He would answer, but in such a way as to
+show him totally unaware of your true meaning. He would afterwards talk
+to you with all the smiling affability and freedom of an old friend.
+Every one despised him for his idleness and folly, no less conspicuous
+in his words than his actions; but no one feared him, and few were angry
+with him, till after the detection of his commerce with _Betty_, and his
+inhuman treatment of his father."
+
+"Have you good reasons for supposing him to have been illicitly
+connected with that girl?"
+
+"Yes. Such as cannot be discredited. It would not be proper for me to
+state these proofs. Nay, he never denied it. When reminded, on one
+occasion, of the inference which every impartial person would draw from
+appearances, he acknowledged, with his usual placid effrontery, that the
+inference was unavoidable. He even mentioned other concurring and
+contemporary incidents, which had eluded the observation of his
+censurer, and which added still more force to the conclusion. He was
+studious to palliate the vices of this woman, as long as he was her only
+paramour; but, after her marriage with his father, the tone was changed.
+He confessed that she was tidy, notable, industrious; but, then, she
+was a prostitute. When charged with being instrumental in making her
+such, and when his companions dwelt upon the depravity of reviling her
+for vices which she owed to him, 'True,' he would say, 'there is
+depravity and folly in the conduct you describe. Make me out, if you
+please, to be a villain. What then? I was talking, not of myself, but of
+Betty. Still this woman is a prostitute. If it were I that made her
+such, with more confidence may I make the charge. But think not that I
+blame Betty. Place me in her situation, and I should have acted just so.
+I should have formed just such notions of my interest, and pursued it by
+the same means. Still, say I, I would fain have a different woman for my
+father's wife, and the mistress of his family.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+
+This conversation was interrupted by a messenger from my wife, who
+desired my return immediately. I had some hopes of meeting with Mervyn,
+some days having now elapsed since his parting from us, and not being
+conscious of any extraordinary motives for delay. It was Wortley,
+however, and not Mervyn, to whom I was called.
+
+My friend came to share with me his suspicions and inquietudes
+respecting Welbeck and Mervyn. An accident had newly happened which had
+awakened these suspicions afresh. He desired a patient audience while he
+explained them to me. These were his words:--
+
+"To-day a person presented me a letter from a mercantile friend at
+Baltimore. I easily discerned the bearer to be a sea-captain. He was a
+man of sensible and pleasing aspect, and was recommended to my
+friendship and counsel in the letter which he brought. The letter
+stated, that a man, by name Amos Watson, by profession a mariner, and a
+resident at Baltimore, had disappeared in the summer of last year, in a
+mysterious and incomprehensible manner. He was known to have arrived in
+this city from Jamaica, and to have intended an immediate journey to his
+family, who lived at Baltimore; but he never arrived there, and no trace
+of his existence has since been discovered. The bearer had come to
+investigate, if possible, the secret of his fate, and I was earnestly
+entreated to afford him all the assistance and advice in my power, in
+the prosecution of his search. I expressed my willingness to serve the
+stranger, whose name was Williams; and, after offering him entertainment
+at my house, which was thankfully accepted, he proceeded to unfold to
+me the particulars of this affair. His story was this.
+
+"'On the 20th of last June, I arrived,' said he, 'from the West Indies,
+in company with Captain Watson. I commanded the ship in which he came as
+a passenger, his own ship being taken and confiscated by the English. We
+had long lived in habits of strict friendship, and I loved him for his
+own sake, as well as because he had married my sister. We landed in the
+morning, and went to dine with Mr. Keysler, since dead, but who then
+lived in Water Street. He was extremely anxious to visit his family,
+and, having a few commissions to perform in the city, which would not
+demand more than a couple of hours, he determined to set out next
+morning in the stage. Meanwhile, I had engagements which required me to
+repair with the utmost expedition to New York. I was scarcely less
+anxious than my brother to reach Baltimore, where my friends also
+reside; but there was an absolute necessity of going eastward. I
+expected, however, to return hither in three days, and then to follow
+Watson home. Shortly after dinner we parted; he to execute his
+commissions, and I to embark in the mail-stage.
+
+"'In the time prefixed I returned. I arrived early in the morning, and
+prepared to depart again at noon. Meanwhile, I called at Keysler's. This
+is an old acquaintance of Watson's and mine; and, in the course of talk,
+he expressed some surprise that Watson had so precipitately deserted his
+house. I stated the necessity there was for Watson's immediate departure
+_southward_, and added, that no doubt my brother had explained this
+necessity.
+
+"'Why, (said Keysler,) it is true, Captain Watson mentioned his
+intention of leaving town early next day; but then he gave me reason to
+expect that he would sup and lodge with me that night, whereas he has
+not made his appearance since. Besides, his trunk was brought to my
+house. This, no doubt, he intended to carry home with him, but here it
+remains still. It is not likely that in the hurry of departure his
+baggage was forgotten. Hence, I inferred that he was still in town, and
+have been puzzling myself these three days with conjectures as to what
+is become of him. What surprises me more is, that, on inquiring among
+the few friends which he has in this city, I find them as ignorant of
+his motions as myself. I have not, indeed, been wholly without
+apprehensions that some accident or other has befallen him.'
+
+"'I was not a little alarmed by this intimation. I went myself,
+agreeably to Keysler's directions, to Watson's friends, and made anxious
+inquiries, but none of them had seen my brother since his arrival. I
+endeavoured to recollect the commissions which he designed to execute,
+and, if possible, to trace him to the spot where he last appeared. He
+had several packets to deliver, one of which was addressed to Walter
+Thetford. Him, after some inquiry, I found out, but unluckily he chanced
+to be in the country. I found, by questioning a clerk, who transacted
+his business in his absence, that a person, who answered the minute
+description which I gave of Watson, had been there on the day on which I
+parted with him, and had left papers relative to the capture of one of
+Thetford's vessels by the English. This was the sum of the information
+he was able to afford me.
+
+"'I then applied to three merchants for whom my brother had letters.
+They all acknowledged the receipt of these letters, but they were
+delivered through the medium of the post-office.
+
+"'I was extremely anxious to reach home. Urgent engagements compelled me
+to go on without delay. I had already exhausted all the means of inquiry
+within my reach, and was obliged to acquiesce in the belief that Watson
+had proceeded homeward at the time appointed, and left, by forgetfulness
+or accident, his trunk behind him. On examining the books kept at the
+stage-offices, his name nowhere appeared, and no conveyance by water had
+occurred during the last week. Still, the only conjecture I could form
+was that he had gone homeward.
+
+"'Arriving at Baltimore, I found that Watson had not yet made his
+appearance. His wife produced a letter, which, by the postmark, appeared
+to have been put into the office at Philadelphia, on the morning after
+our arrival, and on which he had designed to commence his journey. This
+letter had been written by my brother, in my presence, but I had
+dissuaded him from sending it, since the same coach that should bear the
+letter was likewise to carry himself. I had seen him put it unwafered in
+his pocket-book, but this letter, unaltered in any part, and containing
+money which he had at first intended to enclose in it, was now conveyed
+to his wife's hand. In this letter he mentioned his design of setting
+out for Baltimore on the _twenty-first_, yet on that day the letter
+itself had been put into the office.
+
+"'We hoped that a short time would clear up this mystery, and bring the
+fugitive home; but, from that day till the present, no atom of
+intelligence has been received concerning him. The yellow fever, which
+quickly followed, in this city, and my own engagements, have hindered
+me, till now, from coming hither and resuming the search.
+
+"'My brother was one of the most excellent of men. His wife loved him to
+distraction, and, together with his children, depended for subsistence
+upon his efforts. You will not, therefore, be surprised that his
+disappearance excited, in us, the deepest consternation and distress;
+but I have other and peculiar reasons for wishing to know his fate. I
+gave him several bills of exchange on merchants of Baltimore, which I
+had received in payment of my cargo, in order that they might, as soon
+as possible, be presented and accepted. These have disappeared with the
+bearer. There is likewise another circumstance that makes his existence
+of no small value.
+
+"'There is an English family, who formerly resided in Jamaica, and
+possessed an estate of great value, but who, for some years, have lived
+in the neighbourhood of Baltimore. The head of this family died a year
+ago, and left a widow and three daughters. The lady thought it eligible
+to sell her husband's property in Jamaica, the island becoming hourly
+more exposed to the chances of war and revolution, and transfer it to
+the United States, where she purposes henceforth to reside. Watson had
+been her husband's friend, and, his probity and disinterestedness being
+well known, she intrusted him with legal powers to sell this estate.
+This commission was punctually performed, and the purchase-money was
+received. In order to confer on it the utmost possible security, he
+rolled up four bills of exchange, drawn upon opulent, merchants of
+London, in a thin sheet of lead, and, depositing this roll in a leathern
+girdle, fastened it round his waist, and under his clothes; a second set
+he gave to me, and a third he despatched to Mr. Keysler, by a vessel
+which sailed a few days before him. On our arrival in this city, we
+found that Keysler had received those transmitted to him, and which he
+had been charged to keep till our arrival. They were now produced, and,
+together with those which I had carried, were delivered to Watson. By
+him they were joined to those in the girdle, which he still wore,
+conceiving this method of conveyance to be safer than any other, and, at
+the same time, imagining it needless, in so short a journey as remained
+to be performed, to resort to other expedients.
+
+"'The sum which he thus bore about him was no less than ten thousand
+pounds sterling. It constituted the whole patrimony of a worthy and
+excellent family, and the loss of it reduces them to beggary. It is gone
+with Watson, and whither Watson has gone it is impossible even to guess.
+
+"'You may now easily conceive, sir, the dreadful disasters which may be
+connected with this man's fate, and with what immeasurable anxiety his
+family and friends have regarded his disappearance. That he is alive can
+scarcely be believed; for in what situation could he be placed in which
+he would not be able and willing to communicate some tidings of his fate
+to his family?
+
+"'Our grief has been unspeakably aggravated by the suspicions which Mrs.
+Maurice and her friends have allowed themselves to admit. They do not
+scruple to insinuate that Watson, tempted by so great a prize, has
+secretly embarked for England, in order to obtain payment for these
+bills and retain the money for his own use.
+
+"'No man was more impatient of poverty than Watson, but no man's honesty
+was more inflexible. He murmured at the destiny that compelled him to
+sacrifice his ease, and risk his life upon the ocean in order to
+procure the means of subsistence; and all the property which he had
+spent the best part of his life in collecting had just been ravished
+away from him by the English; but, if he had yielded to this temptation
+at any time, it would have been on receiving these bills at Jamaica.
+Instead of coming hither, it would have been infinitely more easy and
+convenient to have embarked directly for London; but none who thoroughly
+knew him can, for a moment, harbour a suspicion of his truth.
+
+"'If he be dead, and if the bills are not to be recovered, yet to
+ascertain this will, at least, serve to vindicate his character. As long
+as his fate is unknown, his fame will be loaded with the most flagrant
+imputations, and, if these bills be ever paid in London, these
+imputations will appear to be justified. If he has been robbed, the
+robber will make haste to secure the payment, and the Maurices may not
+unreasonably conclude that the robber was Watson himself.' Many other
+particulars were added by the stranger, to show the extent of the evils
+flowing from the death of his brother, and the loss of the papers which
+he carried with him.
+
+"I was greatly at a loss," continued Wortley, "what directions or advice
+to afford this man. Keysler, as you know, died early of the pestilence;
+but Keysler was the only resident in this city with whom Williams had
+any acquaintance. On mentioning the propriety of preventing the sale of
+these bills in America, by some public notice, he told me that this
+caution had been early taken; and I now remembered seeing the
+advertisement, in which the bills had been represented as having been
+lost or stolen in this city, and a reward of a thousand dollars was
+offered to any one who should restore them. This caution had been
+published in September, in all the trading-towns from Portsmouth to
+Savannah, but had produced no satisfaction.
+
+"I accompanied Williams to the mayor's office, in hopes of finding in
+the records of his proceedings, during the last six months, some traces
+of Watson; but neither these records nor the memory of the magistrate
+afforded us any satisfaction. Watson's friends had drawn up, likewise,
+a description of the person and dress of the fugitive, an account of the
+incidents attending his disappearance, and of the papers which he had in
+his possession, with the manner in which these papers had been secured.
+These had been already published in the Southern newspapers, and have
+been just reprinted in our own. As the former notice had availed
+nothing, this second expedient was thought necessary to be employed.
+
+"After some reflection, it occurred to me that it might be proper to
+renew the attempt which Williams had made to trace the footsteps of his
+friend to the moment of his final disappearance. He had pursued Watson
+to Thetford's; but Thetford himself had not been seen, and he had been
+contented with the vague information of his clerk. Thetford and his
+family, including his clerk, had perished, and it seemed as if this
+source of information was dried up. It was possible, however, that old
+Thetford might have some knowledge of his nephew's transactions, by
+which some light might chance to be thrown upon this obscurity. I
+therefore called on him, but found him utterly unable to afford me the
+light that I wished. My mention of the packet which Watson had brought
+to Thetford, containing documents respecting the capture of a certain
+ship, reminded him of the injuries which he had received from Welbeck,
+and excited him to renew his menaces and imputations on that wretch.
+Having somewhat exhausted this rhetoric, he proceeded to tell me what
+connection there was between the remembrance of his injuries and the
+capture of this vessel.
+
+"This vessel and its cargo were, in fact, the property of Welbeck. They
+had been sent to a good market, and had been secured by an adequate
+insurance. The value of this ship and cargo, and the validity of the
+policy, he had taken care to ascertain by means of his two nephews, one
+of whom had gone out supercargo. This had formed his inducement to lend
+his three notes to Welbeck, in exchange for three other notes, the whole
+amount of which included the _equitable interest_ of _five per cent. per
+month_ on his own loan. For the payment of these notes he by no means
+relied, as the world foolishly imagined, on the seeming opulence and
+secret funds of Welbeck. These were illusions too gross to have any
+influence on him. He was too old a bird to be decoyed into the net by
+_such_ chaff. No; his nephew, the supercargo, would of course receive
+the produce of the voyage, and so much of this produce as would pay his
+debt he had procured the owner's authority to intercept its passage from
+the pocket of his nephew to that of Welbeck. In case of loss, he had
+obtained a similar security upon the policy. Jamieson's proceedings had
+been the same with his own, and no affair in which he had ever engaged
+had appeared to be more free from hazard than this. Their calculations,
+however, though plausible, were defeated. The ship was taken and
+condemned, for a cause which rendered the insurance ineffectual.
+
+"I bestowed no time in reflecting on this tissue of extortions and
+frauds, and on that course of events which so often disconcerts the
+stratagems of cunning. The names of Welbeck and Watson were thus
+associated together, and filled my thoughts with restlessness and
+suspicion. Welbeck was capable of any weakness. It was possible an
+interview had happened between these men, and that the fugitive had been
+someway instrumental in Watson's fate. These thoughts were mentioned to
+Williams, whom the name of Welbeck threw into the utmost perturbation.
+On finding that one of this name had dwelt in this city, and that he had
+proved a villain, he instantly admitted the most dreary forebodings.
+
+"'I have heard,' said Williams, 'the history of this Welbeck a score of
+times from my brother. There formerly subsisted a very intimate
+connection between them. My brother had conferred, upon one whom he
+thought honest, innumerable benefits; but all his benefits had been
+repaid by the blackest treachery. Welbeck's character and guilt had
+often been made the subject of talk between us, but, on these occasions,
+my brother's placid and patient temper forsook him. His grief for the
+calamities which had sprung from this man, and his desire of revenge,
+burst all bounds, and transported him to a pitch of temporary frenzy. I
+often inquired in what manner he intended to act if a meeting should
+take place between them. He answered, that doubtless he should act like
+a maniac, in defiance of his sober principles, and of the duty which he
+owed his family.
+
+"'What! (said I,) would you stab or pistol him?
+
+"'No. I was not born for an assassin. I would upbraid him in such terms
+as the furious moment might suggest, and then challenge him to a
+meeting, from which either he or I should not part with life. I would
+allow time for him to make his peace with Heaven, and for me to blast
+his reputation upon earth, and to make such provision for my possible
+death as duty and discretion would prescribe.
+
+"'Now, nothing is more probable than that Welbeck and my brother have
+met. Thetford would of course mention his name and interest in the
+captured ship, and hence the residence of this detested being in this
+city would be made known. Their meeting could not take place without
+some dreadful consequence. I am fearful that to that meeting we must
+impute the disappearance of my brother.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+
+"Here was new light thrown upon the character of Welbeck, and new food
+administered to my suspicions. No conclusion could be more plausible
+than that which Williams had drawn; but how should it be rendered
+certain? Walter Thetford, or some of his family, had possibly been
+witnesses of something, which, added to our previous knowledge, might
+strengthen or prolong that clue, one end of which seemed now to be put
+into our hands; but Thetford's father-in-law was the only one of his
+family, who, by seasonable flight from the city, had escaped the
+pestilence. To him, who still resided in the country, I repaired with
+all speed, accompanied by Williams.
+
+"The old man, being reminded, by a variety of circumstances, of the
+incidents of that eventful period, was, at length, enabled to relate
+that he had been present at the meeting which took place between Watson
+and his son Walter, when certain packets were delivered by the former,
+relative, as he quickly understood, to the condemnation of a ship in
+which Thomas Thetford had gone supercargo. He had noticed some emotion
+of the stranger, occasioned by his son's mentioning the concern which
+Welbeck had in the vessel. He likewise remembered the stranger's
+declaring his intention of visiting Welbeck, and requesting Walter to
+afford him directions to his house.
+
+"'Next morning at the breakfast-table,' continued the old man, 'I
+adverted to yesterday's incidents, and asked my son how Welbeck had
+borne the news of the loss of his ship. "He bore it," said Walter, "as a
+man of his wealth ought to bear so trivial a loss. But there was
+something very strange in his behaviour," says my son, "when I mentioned
+the name of the captain who brought the papers; and, when I mentioned
+the captain's design of paying him a visit, he stared upon me, for a
+moment, as if he were frighted out of his wits, and then, snatching up
+his hat, ran furiously out of the house." This was all my son said upon
+that occasion; but, as I have since heard, it was on that very night
+that Welbeck absconded from his creditors.'
+
+"I have this moment returned from this interview with old Thetford. I
+come to you, because I thought it possible that Mervyn, agreeably to
+your expectations, had returned, and I wanted to see the lad once more.
+My suspicions with regard to him have been confirmed, and a warrant was
+this day issued for apprehending him as Welbeck's accomplice."
+
+I was startled by this news. "My friend," said I, "be cautious how you
+act, I beseech you. You know not in what evils you may involve the
+innocent. Mervyn I know to be blameless; but Welbeck is indeed a
+villain. The latter I shall not be sorry to see brought to justice; but
+the former, instead of meriting punishment, is entitled to rewards."
+
+"So you believe, on the mere assertion of the boy, perhaps, his
+plausible lies might produce the same effect upon me; but I must stay
+till he thinks proper to exert his skill. The suspicions to which he is
+exposed will not easily be obviated; but, if he has any thing to say in
+his defence, his judicial examination will afford him the suitable
+opportunity. Why are you so much afraid to subject his innocence to this
+test? It was not till you heard his tale that your own suspicions were
+removed. Allow me the same privilege of unbelief.
+
+"But you do me wrong, in deeming me the cause of his apprehension. It is
+Jamieson and Thetford's work, and they have not proceeded on shadowy
+surmises and the impulses of mere revenge. Facts have come to light of
+which you are wholly unaware, and which, when known to you, will conquer
+even your incredulity as to the guilt of Mervyn."
+
+"Facts? Let me know them, I beseech you. If Mervyn has deceived me,
+there is an end to my confidence in human nature. All limits to
+dissimulation, and all distinctness between vice and virtue, will be
+effaced. No man's word, nor force of collateral evidence, shall weigh
+with me a hair."
+
+"It was time," replied my friend, "that your confidence in smooth
+features and fluent accents should have ended long ago. Till I gained
+from my present profession some knowledge of the world, a knowledge
+which was not gained in a moment, and has not cost a trifle, I was
+equally wise in my own conceit; and, in order to decide upon the truth
+of any one's pretensions, needed only a clear view of his face and a
+distinct hearing of his words. My folly, in that respect, was only to be
+cured, however, by my own experience, and I suppose your credulity will
+yield to no other remedy. These are the facts:--
+
+"Mrs. Wentworth, the proprietor of the house in which Welbeck lived, has
+furnished some intelligence respecting Mervyn, whose truth cannot be
+doubted, and which furnishes the strongest evidence of a conspiracy
+between this lad and his employer. It seems that, some years since, a
+nephew of this lady left his father's family clandestinely, and has not
+been heard of since. This nephew was intended to inherit her fortunes,
+and her anxieties and inquiries respecting him have been endless and
+incessant. These, however, have been fruitless. Welbeck, knowing these
+circumstances, and being desirous of substituting a girl whom he had
+moulded for his purpose, in place of the lost youth, in the affections
+of the lady while living, and in her testament when dead, endeavoured to
+persuade her that the youth had died in some foreign country. For this
+end, Mervyn was to personate a kinsman of Welbeck who had just arrived
+from Europe, and who had been a witness of her nephew's death. A story
+was, no doubt, to be contrived, where truth should be copied with the
+most exquisite dexterity; and, the lady being prevailed upon to believe
+the story, the way was cleared for accomplishing the remainder of the
+plot.
+
+"In due time, and after the lady's mind had been artfully prepared by
+Welbeck, the pupil made his appearance; and, in a conversation full of
+studied ambiguities, assured the lady that her nephew was dead. For the
+present he declined relating the particulars of his death, and displayed
+a constancy and intrepidity in resisting her entreaties that would have
+been admirable in a better cause. Before she had time to fathom this
+painful mystery, Welbeck's frauds were in danger of detection, and he
+and his pupil suddenly disappeared.
+
+"While the plot was going forward, there occurred an incident which the
+plotters had not foreseen or precluded, and which possibly might have
+created some confusion or impediment in their designs. A bundle was
+found one night in the street, consisting of some coarse clothes, and
+containing, in the midst of it, the miniature portrait of Mrs.
+Wentworth's nephew. It fell into the hands of one of that lady's
+friends, who immediately despatched the bundle to her. Mervyn, in his
+interview with this lady, spied the portrait on the mantel-piece. Led by
+some freak of fancy, or some web of artifice, he introduced the talk
+respecting her nephew, by boldly claiming it as his; but, when the mode
+in which it had been found was mentioned, he was disconcerted and
+confounded, and precipitately withdrew.
+
+"This conduct, and the subsequent flight of the lad, afforded ground
+enough to question the truth of his intelligence respecting her nephew;
+but it has since been confuted, in a letter just received from her
+brother in England. In this letter, she is informed that her nephew had
+been seen by one who knew him well, in Charleston; that some intercourse
+took place between the youth and the bearer of the news, in the course
+of which the latter had persuaded the nephew to return to his family,
+and that the youth had given some tokens of compliance. The
+letter-writer, who was father to the fugitive, had written to certain
+friends at Charleston, entreating them to use their influence with the
+runaway to the same end, and, at any rate, to cherish and protect him.
+Thus, I hope you will admit that the duplicity of Mervyn is
+demonstrated."
+
+"The facts which you have mentioned," said I, after some pause, "partly
+correspond with Mervyn's story; but the last particular is
+irreconcilably repugnant to it. Now, for the first time, I begin to feel
+that my confidence is shaken. I feel my mind bewildered and distracted
+by the multitude of new discoveries which have just taken place. I want
+time to revolve them slowly, to weigh them accurately, and to estimate
+their consequences fully. I am afraid to speak; fearing that, in the
+present trouble of my thoughts, I may say something which I may
+afterwards regret, I want a counsellor; but you, Wortley, are unfit for
+the office. Your judgment is unfurnished with the same materials; your
+sufferings have soured your humanity and biassed your candour. The only
+one qualified to divide with me these cares, and aid in selecting the
+best mode of action, is my wife. She is mistress of Mervyn's history; an
+observer of his conduct during his abode with us; and is hindered, by
+her education and temper, from deviating into rigour and malevolence.
+Will you pardon me, therefore, if I defer commenting on your narrative
+till I have had an opportunity of reviewing it and comparing it with my
+knowledge of the lad, collected from himself and from my own
+observation?"
+
+Wortley could not but admit the justice of my request, and, after some
+desultory conversation, we parted. I hastened to communicate to my wife
+the various intelligence which I had lately received. Mrs. Althorpe's
+portrait of the Mervyns contained lineaments which the summary detail of
+Arthur did not enable us fully to comprehend. The treatment which the
+youth is said to have given to his father; the illicit commerce that
+subsisted between him and his father's wife; the pillage of money and
+his father's horse, but ill accorded with the tale which we had heard,
+and disquieted our minds with doubts, though far from dictating our
+belief.
+
+What, however, more deeply absorbed our attention, was the testimony of
+Williams and of Mrs. Wentworth. That which was mysterious and
+inscrutable to Wortley and the friends of Watson was luminous to us. The
+coincidence between the vague hints laboriously collected by these
+inquirers, and the narrative of Mervyn, afforded the most cogent
+attestation of the truth of that narrative.
+
+Watson had vanished from all eyes, but the spot where rested his remains
+was known to us. The girdle spoken of by Williams would not be suspected
+to exist by his murderer. It was unmolested, and was doubtless buried
+with him. That which was so earnestly sought, and which constituted the
+subsistence of the Maurices, would probably be found adhering to his
+body. What conduct was incumbent upon me who possessed this knowledge?
+
+It was just to restore these bills to their true owner; but how could
+this be done without hazardous processes and tedious disclosures? To
+whom ought these disclosures to be made? By what authority or agency
+could these half-decayed limbs be dug up, and the lost treasure be taken
+from amidst the horrible corruption in which it was immersed?
+
+This ought not to be the act of a single individual. This act would
+entangle him in a maze of perils and suspicions, of concealments and
+evasions, from which he could not hope to escape with his reputation
+inviolate. The proper method was through the agency of the law. It is to
+this that Mervyn must submit his conduct. The story which he told to me
+he must tell to the world. Suspicions have fixed themselves upon him,
+which allow him not the privilege of silence and obscurity. While he
+continued unknown and unthought of, the publication of his story would
+only give unnecessary birth to dangers; but now dangers are incurred
+which it may probably contribute to lessen, if not to remove.
+
+Meanwhile the return of Mervyn to the city was anxiously expected. Day
+after day passed, and no tidings were received. I had business of an
+urgent nature which required my presence in Jersey, but which, in the
+daily expectation of the return of my young friend, I postponed a week
+longer than rigid discretion allowed. At length I was obliged to comply
+with the exigence, and left the city, but made such arrangements that I
+should be apprized by my wife of Mervyn's return with all practicable
+expedition.
+
+These arrangements were superfluous, for my business was despatched, and
+my absence at an end, before the youth had given us any tokens of his
+approach. I now remembered the warnings of Wortley, and his assertions
+that Mervyn had withdrawn himself forever from our view. The event had
+hitherto unwelcomely coincided with these predictions, and a thousand
+doubts and misgivings were awakened.
+
+One evening, while preparing to shake off gloomy thoughts by a visit to
+a friend, some one knocked at my door, and left a billet containing
+these words:--
+
+"_Dr. Stevens is requested to come immediately to the Debtors'
+Apartments in Prune Street._"
+
+This billet was without signature. The handwriting was unknown, and the
+precipitate departure of the bearer left me wholly at a loss with
+respect to the person of the writer, or the end for which my presence
+was required. This uncertainty only hastened my compliance with the
+summons.
+
+The evening was approaching,--a time when the prison-doors are
+accustomed to be shut and strangers to be excluded. This furnished an
+additional reason for despatch. As I walked swiftly along, I revolved
+the possible motives that might have prompted this message. A conjecture
+was soon formed, which led to apprehension and inquietude.
+
+One of my friends, by name Carlton, was embarrassed with debts which he
+was unable to discharge. He had lately been menaced with arrest by a
+creditor not accustomed to remit any of his claims. I dreaded that this
+catastrophe had now happened, and called to mind the anguish with which
+this untoward incident would overwhelm his family. I knew his incapacity
+to take away the claim of his creditor by payment, or to soothe him into
+clemency by supplication.
+
+So prone is the human mind to create for itself distress, that I was not
+aware of the uncertainty of this evil till I arrived at the prison. I
+checked myself at the moment when I opened my lips to utter the name of
+my friend, and was admitted without particular inquiries. I supposed
+that he by whom I had been summoned hither would meet me in the common
+room.
+
+The apartment was filled with pale faces and withered forms. The marks
+of negligence and poverty were visible in all; but few betrayed, in
+their features or gestures, any symptoms of concern on account of their
+condition. Ferocious gayety, or stupid indifference, seemed to sit upon
+every brow. The vapour from a heated stove, mingled with the fumes of
+beer and tallow that were spilled upon it, and with the tainted breath
+of so promiscuous a crowd, loaded the stagnant atmosphere. At my first
+transition from the cold and pure air without, to this noxious element,
+I found it difficult to breathe. A moment, however, reconciled me to my
+situation, and I looked anxiously round to discover some face which I
+knew.
+
+Almost every mouth was furnished with a cigar, and every hand with a
+glass of porter. Conversation, carried on with much emphasis of tone and
+gesture, was not wanting. Sundry groups, in different corners, were
+beguiling the tedious hours at whist. Others, unemployed, were strolling
+to and fro, and testified their vacancy of thought and care by humming
+or whistling a tune.
+
+I fostered the hope that my prognostics had deceived me. This hope was
+strengthened by reflecting that the billet received was written in a
+different hand from that of my friend. Meanwhile I continued my search.
+Seated on a bench, silent and aloof from the crowd, his eyes fixed upon
+the floor, and his face half concealed by his hand, a form was at length
+discovered which verified all my conjectures and fears. Carlton was he.
+
+My heart drooped and my tongue faltered at this sight. I surveyed him
+for some minutes in silence. At length, approaching the bench on which
+he sat, I touched his hand and awakened him from his reverie. He looked
+up. A momentary gleam of joy and surprise was succeeded by a gloom
+deeper than before.
+
+It was plain that my friend needed consolation. He was governed by an
+exquisite sensibility to disgrace. He was impatient of constraint. He
+shrunk, with fastidious abhorrence, from the contact of the vulgar and
+the profligate. His constitution was delicate and feeble. Impure airs,
+restraint from exercise, unusual aliment, unwholesome or incommodious
+accommodations, and perturbed thoughts, were, at any time, sufficient to
+generate disease and to deprive him of life.
+
+To these evils he was now subjected. He had no money wherewith to
+purchase food. He had been dragged hither in the morning. He had not
+tasted a morsel since his entrance. He had not provided a bed on which
+to lie; or inquired in what room, or with what companions, the night was
+to be spent.
+
+Fortitude was not among my friend's qualities. He was more prone to
+shrink from danger than encounter it, and to yield to the flood rather
+than sustain it; but it is just to observe that his anguish, on the
+present occasion, arose not wholly from selfish considerations. His
+parents were dead, and two sisters were dependent on him for support.
+One of these was nearly of his own age. The other was scarcely emerged
+from childhood. There was an intellectual as well as a personal
+resemblance between my friend and his sisters. They possessed his
+physical infirmities, his vehement passions, and refinements of taste;
+and the misery of his condition was tenfold increased, by reflecting on
+the feelings which would be awakened in them by the knowledge of his
+state, and the hardships to which the loss of his succour would expose
+them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+
+It was not in my power to release my friend by the payment of his debt;
+but, by contracting with the keeper of the prison for his board, I could
+save him from famine; and, by suitable exertions, could procure him
+lodging as convenient as the time would admit. I could promise to
+console and protect his sisters, and, by cheerful tones and frequent
+visits, dispel some part of the evil which encompassed him.
+
+After the first surprise had subsided, he inquired by what accident this
+meeting had been produced. Conscious of my incapacity to do him any
+essential service, and unwilling to make me a partaker in his miseries,
+he had forborne to inform me of his condition.
+
+This assurance was listened to with some wonder. I showed him the
+billet. It had not been written by him. He was a stranger to the
+penmanship. None but the attorney and officer were apprized of his fate.
+It was obvious to conclude, that this was the interposition of some
+friend, who, knowing my affection for Carlton, had taken this mysterious
+method of calling me to his succour.
+
+Conjectures as to the author and motives of this inter position were
+suspended by more urgent considerations. I requested an interview with
+the keeper, and inquired how Carlton could be best accommodated.
+
+He said that all his rooms were full but one, which, in consequence of
+the dismission of three persons in the morning, had at present but one
+tenant. This person had lately arrived, was sick, and had with him, at
+this time, one of his friends. Carlton might divide the chamber with
+this person. No doubt his consent would be readily given; though this
+arrangement, being the best, must take place whether he consented or
+not.
+
+This consent I resolved immediately to seek, and, for that purpose,
+desired to be led to the chamber. The door of the apartment was shut. I
+knocked for admission. It was instantly opened, and I entered. The first
+person who met my view was--Arthur Mervyn.
+
+I started with astonishment. Mervyn's countenance betrayed nothing but
+satisfaction at the interview. The traces of fatigue and anxiety gave
+place to tenderness and joy. It readily occurred to me that Mervyn was
+the writer of the note which I had lately received. To meet him within
+these walls, and at this time, was the most remote and undesirable of
+all contingencies. The same hour had thus made me acquainted with the
+kindred and unwelcome fate of two beings whom I most loved.
+
+I had scarcely time to return his embrace, when, taking my hand, he led
+me to a bed that stood in one corner. There was stretched upon it one
+whom a second glance enabled me to call by his name, though I had never
+before seen him. The vivid portrait which Mervyn had drawn was
+conspicuous in the sunken and haggard visage before me. This face had,
+indeed, proportions and lines which could never be forgotten or
+mistaken. Welbeck, when once seen or described, was easily distinguished
+from the rest of mankind. He had stronger motives than other men for
+abstaining from guilt, the difficulty of concealment or disguise being
+tenfold greater in him than in others, by reason of the indelible and
+eye-attracting marks which nature had set upon him.
+
+He was pallid and emaciated. He did not open his eyes on my entrance. He
+seemed to be asleep; but, before I had time to exchange glances with
+Mervyn, or to inquire into the nature of the scene, he awoke. On seeing
+me he started, and cast a look of upbraiding on my companion. The latter
+comprehended his emotion, and endeavoured to appease him.
+
+"This person," said he, "is my friend. He is likewise a physician; and,
+perceiving your state to require medical assistance, I ventured to send
+for him."
+
+Welbeck replied, in a contemptuous and indignant tone, "Thou mistakest
+my condition, boy. My disease lies deeper than his scrutiny will ever
+reach. I had hoped thou wert gone. Thy importunities are well meant, but
+they aggravate my miseries."
+
+He now rose from the bed, and continued, in a firm and resolute tone,
+"You are intruders into this apartment. It is mine, and I desire to be
+left alone."
+
+Mervyn returned, at first, no answer to this address. He was immersed in
+perplexity. At length, raising his eyes from the floor, he said, "My
+intentions are indeed honest, and I am grieved that I want the power of
+persuasion. To-morrow, perhaps, I may reason more cogently with your
+despair, or your present mood may be changed. To aid my own weakness I
+will entreat the assistance of this friend."
+
+These words roused a new spirit in Welbeck. His confusion and anger
+increased. His tongue faltered as he exclaimed, "Good God! what mean
+you? Headlong and rash as you are, you will not share with this person
+your knowledge of me?" Here he checked himself, conscious that the words
+he had already uttered tended to the very end which he dreaded. This
+consciousness, added to the terror of more ample disclosures, which the
+simplicity and rectitude of Mervyn might prompt him to make, chained up
+his tongue, and covered him with dismay.
+
+Mervyn was not long in answering:--"I comprehend your fears and your
+wishes. I am bound to tell you the truth. To this person your story has
+already been told. Whatever I have witnessed under your roof, whatever I
+have heard from your lips, have been faithfully disclosed to him."
+
+The countenance of Welbeck now betrayed a mixture of incredulity and
+horror. For a time his utterance was stifled by his complicated
+feelings:--
+
+"It cannot be. So enormous a deed is beyond thy power. Thy qualities are
+marvellous. Every new act of thine outstrips the last, and belies the
+newest calculations. But this--this perfidy exceeds--this outrage upon
+promises, this violation of faith, this blindness to the future, is
+incredible." There he stopped; while his looks seemed to call upon
+Mervyn for a contradiction of his first assertion.
+
+"I know full well how inexpiably stupid or wicked my act will appear to
+you, but I will not prevaricate or lie. I repeat, that every thing is
+known to him. Your birth; your early fortunes; the incidents at
+Charleston and Wilmington; your treatment of the brother and sister;
+your interview with Watson, and the fatal issue of that interview--I
+have told him all, just as it was told to me."
+
+Here the shock that was felt by Welbeck overpowered his caution and his
+strength. He sunk upon the side of the bed. His air was still
+incredulous, and he continued to gaze upon Mervyn. He spoke in a tone
+less vehement:--
+
+"And hast thou then betrayed me? Hast thou shut every avenue to my
+return to honour? Am I known to be a seducer and assassin? To have
+meditated all crimes, and to have perpetrated the worst?
+
+"Infamy and death are my portion. I know they are reserved for me; but I
+did not think to receive them at thy hands, that under that innocent
+guise there lurked a heart treacherous and cruel. But go; leave me to
+myself. This stroke has exterminated my remnant of hope. Leave me to
+prepare my neck for the halter, and my lips for this last and bitterest
+cup."
+
+Mervyn struggled with his tears, and replied, "All this was foreseen,
+and all this I was prepared to endure. My friend and I will withdraw, as
+you wish; but to-morrow I return; not to vindicate my faith or my
+humanity; not to make you recant your charges, or forgive the faults
+which I seem to have committed, but to extricate you from your present
+evil, or to arm you with fortitude."
+
+So saying, he led the way out of the room. I followed him in silence.
+The strangeness and abruptness of this scene left me no power to assume
+a part in it. I looked on with new and indescribable sensations. I
+reached the street before my recollection was perfectly recovered. I
+then reflected on the purpose that had led me to Welbeck's chamber. This
+purpose was yet unaccomplished. I desired Mervyn to linger a moment
+while I returned into the house. I once more inquired for the keeper,
+and told him I should leave to him the province of acquainting Welbeck
+with the necessity of sharing his apartment with a stranger. I speedily
+rejoined Mervyn in the street.
+
+I lost no time in requiring an explanation of the scene that I had
+witnessed. "How became you once more the companion of Welbeck? Why did
+you not inform me by letter of your arrival at Malverton, and of what
+occurred during your absence? What is the fate of Mr. Hadwin and of
+Wallace?"
+
+"Alas!" said he, "I perceive that, though I have written, you have never
+received my letters. The tale of what has occurred since we parted is
+long and various. I am not only willing but eager to communicate the
+story; but this is no suitable place. Have patience till we reach your
+house. I have involved myself in perils and embarrassments from which I
+depend upon your counsel and aid to release me."
+
+I had scarcely reached my own door, when I was overtaken by a servant,
+whom I knew to belong to the family in which Carlton and his sisters
+resided. Her message, therefore, was readily guessed. She came, as I
+expected, to inquire for my friend, who had left his home in the morning
+with a stranger, and had not yet returned. His absence had occasioned
+some inquietude, and his sister had sent this message to me, to procure
+what information respecting the cause of his detention I was able to
+give.
+
+My perplexity hindered me, for some time, from answering. I was willing
+to communicate the painful truth with my own mouth. I saw the necessity
+of putting an end to her suspense, and of preventing the news from
+reaching her with fallacious aggravations or at an unseasonable time.
+
+I told the messenger that I had just parted with Mr. Carlton, that he
+was well, and that I would speedily come and acquaint his sister with
+the cause of his absence.
+
+Though burning with curiosity respecting Mervyn and Welbeck, I readily
+postponed its gratification till my visit to Miss Carlton was performed.
+I had rarely seen this lady; my friendship for her brother, though
+ardent, having been lately formed, and chiefly matured by interviews at
+my house. I had designed to introduce her to my wife, but various
+accidents had hindered the execution of my purpose. Now consolation and
+counsel were more needed than ever, and delay or reluctance in bestowing
+it would have been, in a high degree, unpardonable.
+
+I therefore parted with Mervyn, requesting him to await my return, and
+promising to perform the engagement which compelled me to leave him,
+with the utmost despatch. On entering Miss Carlton's apartment, I
+assumed an air of as much tranquillity as possible. I found the lady
+seated at a desk, with pen in hand and parchment before her. She greeted
+me with affectionate dignity, and caught from my countenance that
+cheerfulness of which on my entrance she was destitute.
+
+"You come," said she, "to inform me what has made my brother a truant
+to-day. Till your message was received I was somewhat anxious. This day
+he usually spends in rambling through the fields; but so bleak and
+stormy an atmosphere, I suppose, would prevent his excursion. I pray,
+sir, what is it detains him?"
+
+To conquer my embarrassment, and introduce the subject by indirect and
+cautious means, I eluded her question, and, casting an eye at the
+parchment,--"How now?" said I; "this is strange employment for a lady. I
+knew that my friend pursued this trade, and lived by binding fast the
+bargains which others made; but I knew not that the pen was ever usurped
+by his sister."
+
+"The usurpation was prompted by necessity. My brother's impatient temper
+and delicate frame unfitted him for the trade. He pursued it with no
+less reluctance than diligence, devoting to the task three nights in the
+week, and the whole of each day. It would long ago have killed him, had
+I not bethought myself of sharing his tasks. The pen was irksome and
+toilsome at first, but use has made it easy, and far more eligible than
+the needle, which was formerly my only tool.
+
+"This arrangement affords my brother opportunities of exercise and
+recreation, without diminishing our profits; and my time, though not
+less constantly, is more agreeably, as well as more lucratively,
+employed than formerly."
+
+"I admire your reasoning. By this means provision is made against
+untoward accidents. If sickness should disable him, you are qualified to
+pursue the same means of support."
+
+At these words the lady's countenance changed. She put her hand on my
+arm, and said, in a fluttering and hurried accent, "Is my brother sick?"
+
+"No. He is in perfect health. My observation was a harmless one. I am
+sorry to observe your readiness to draw alarming inferences. If I were
+to say that your scheme is useful to supply deficiencies, not only when
+your brother is disabled by sickness, but when thrown, by some inhuman
+creditor, into jail, no doubt you would perversely and hastily infer
+that he is now in prison."
+
+I had scarcely ended the sentence, when the piercing eyes of the lady
+were anxiously fixed upon mine. After a moment's pause, she exclaimed,
+"The inference, indeed, is too plain. I know his fate. It has long been
+foreseen and expected, and I have summoned up my equanimity to meet it.
+Would to Heaven he may find the calamity as light as I should find it!
+but I fear his too irritable spirit."
+
+When her fears were confirmed, she started out into no vehemence of
+exclamation. She quickly suppressed a few tears which would not be
+withheld, and listened to my narrative of what had lately occurred, with
+tokens of gratitude.
+
+Formal consolation was superfluous. Her mind was indeed more fertile
+than my own in those topics which take away its keenest edge from
+affliction. She observed that it was far from being the heaviest
+calamity which might have happened. The creditor was perhaps vincible by
+arguments and supplications. If these should succeed, the disaster would
+not only be removed, but that security from future molestation be
+gained, to which they had for a long time been strangers.
+
+Should he be obdurate, their state was far from being hopeless.
+Carlton's situation allowed him to pursue his profession. His gains
+would be equal, and his expenses would not be augmented. By their mutual
+industry they might hope to amass sufficient to discharge the debt at no
+very remote period.
+
+What she chiefly dreaded was the pernicious influence of dejection and
+sedentary labour on her brother's health. Yet this was not to be
+considered as inevitable. Fortitude might be inspired by exhortation and
+example, and no condition precluded us from every species of bodily
+exertion. The less inclined he should prove to cultivate the means of
+deliverance and happiness within his reach, the more necessary it became
+for her to stimulate and fortify his resolution.
+
+If I were captivated by the charms of this lady's person and carriage,
+my reverence was excited by these proofs of wisdom and energy. I
+zealously promised to concur with her in every scheme she should adopt
+for her own or her brother's advantage; and, after spending some hours
+with her, took my leave.
+
+I now regretted the ignorance in which I had hitherto remained
+respecting this lady. That she was, in an eminent degree, feminine and
+lovely, was easily discovered; but intellectual weakness had been rashly
+inferred from external frailty. She was accustomed to shrink from
+observation, and reserve was mistaken for timidity. I called on Carlton
+only when numerous engagements would allow, and when, by some accident,
+his customary visits had been intermitted. On those occasions, my stay
+was short, and my attention chiefly confined to her brother. I now
+resolved to atone for my ancient negligence, not only by my own
+assiduities, but by those of my wife.
+
+On my return home, I found Mervyn and my wife in earnest discourse. I
+anticipated the shock which the sensibility of the latter would receive
+from the tidings which I had to communicate respecting Carlton. I was
+unwilling, and yet perceived the necessity of disclosing the truth. I
+desired to bring these women, as soon as possible, to the knowledge of
+each other, but the necessary prelude to this was an acquaintance with
+the disaster that had happened.
+
+Scarcely had I entered the room, when Mervyn turned to me, and said,
+with an air of anxiety and impatience, "Pray, my friend, have you any
+knowledge of Francis Carlton?"
+
+The mention of this name by Mervyn produced some surprise. I
+acknowledged my acquaintance with him.
+
+"Do you know in what situation he now is?"
+
+In answer to this question, I stated by what singular means his
+situation had been made known to me, and the purpose from the
+accomplishment of which I had just returned. I inquired in my turn,
+"Whence originated this question?"
+
+He had overheard the name of Carlton in the prison. Two persons were
+communing in a corner, and accident enabled him to catch this name,
+though uttered by them in a half whisper, and to discover that the
+person talked about had lately been conveyed thither.
+
+This name was not now heard for the first time. It was connected with
+remembrances that made him anxious for the fate of him to whom it
+belonged. In discourse with my wife, this name chanced to be again
+mentioned, and his curiosity was roused afresh. I was willing to
+communicate all that I knew, but Mervyn's own destiny was too remarkable
+not to absorb all my attention, and I refused to discuss any other theme
+till that were fully explained. He postponed his own gratification to
+mine, and consented to relate the incidents that had happened from the
+moment of our separation till the present.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+
+At parting with you, my purpose was to reach the abode of the Hadwins as
+speedily as possible. I travelled therefore with diligence. Setting out
+so early, I expected, though on foot, to reach the end of my journey
+before noon. The activity of muscles is no obstacle to thought. So far
+from being inconsistent with intense musing, it is, in my own case,
+propitious to that state of mind.
+
+Probably no one had stronger motives for ardent meditation than I. My
+second journey to the city was prompted by reasons, and attended by
+incidents, that seemed to have a present existence. To think upon them
+was to view, more deliberately and thoroughly, objects and persons that
+still hovered in my sight. Instead of their attributes being already
+seen, and their consequences at an end, it seemed as if a series of
+numerous years and unintermitted contemplation were requisite to
+comprehend them fully, and bring into existence their most momentous
+effects.
+
+If men be chiefly distinguished from each other by the modes in which
+attention is employed, either on external and sensible objects, or
+merely on abstract ideas and the creatures of reflection, I may justly
+claim to be enrolled in the second class. My existence is a series of
+thoughts rather than of motions. Ratiocination and deduction leave my
+senses unemployed. The fulness of my fancy renders my eye vacant and
+inactive. Sensations do not precede and suggest, but follow and are
+secondary to, the acts of my mind.
+
+There was one motive, however, which made me less inattentive to the
+scene that was continually shifting before and without me than I am
+wont to be. The loveliest form which I had hitherto seen was that of
+Clemenza Lodi. I recalled her condition as I had witnessed it, as
+Welbeck had described, and as you had painted it. The past was without
+remedy; but the future was, in some degree, within our power to create
+and to fashion. Her state was probably dangerous. She might already be
+forlorn, beset with temptation or with anguish; or danger might only be
+approaching her, and the worst evils be impending ones.
+
+I was ignorant of her state. Could I not remove this ignorance? Would
+not some benefit redound to her from beneficent and seasonable
+interposition?
+
+You had mentioned that her abode had lately been with Mrs. Villars, and
+that this lady still resided in the country. The residence had been
+sufficiently described, and I perceived that I was now approaching it.
+In a short time I spied its painted roof and five chimneys through an
+avenue of _catalpas_.
+
+When opposite the gate which led into this avenue, I paused. It seemed
+as if this moment were to decide upon the liberty and innocence of this
+being. In a moment I might place myself before her, ascertain her true
+condition, and point out to her the path of honour and safety. This
+opportunity might be the last. Longer delay might render interposition
+fruitless.
+
+But how was I to interpose? I was a stranger to her language, and she
+was unacquainted with mine. To obtain access to her, it was necessary
+only to demand it. But how should I explain my views and state my wishes
+when an interview was gained? And what expedient was it in my power to
+propose?
+
+"Now," said I, "I perceive the value of that wealth which I have been
+accustomed to despise. The power of eating and drinking, the nature and
+limits of existence and physical enjoyment, are not changed or enlarged
+by the increase of wealth. Our corporeal and intellectual wants are
+supplied at little expense; but our own wants are the wants of others,
+and that which remains, after our own necessities are obviated, it is
+always easy and just to employ in relieving the necessities of others.
+
+"There are no superfluities in my store. It is not in my power to supply
+this unfortunate girl with decent raiment and honest bread. I have no
+house to which to conduct her. I have no means of securing her from
+famine and cold.
+
+"Yet, though indigent and feeble, I am not destitute of friends and of
+home. Cannot she be admitted to the same asylum to which I am now
+going?" This thought was sudden and new. The more it was revolved, the
+more plausible it seemed. This was not merely the sole expedient, but
+the best that could have been suggested.
+
+The Hadwins were friendly, hospitable, unsuspicious. Their board, though
+simple and uncouth, was wholesome and plenteous. Their residence was
+sequestered and obscure, and not obnoxious to impertinent inquiries and
+malignant animadversion. Their frank and ingenuous temper would make
+them easy of persuasion, and their sympathies were prompt and
+overflowing.
+
+"I am nearly certain," continued I, "that they will instantly afford
+protection to this desolate girl. Why shall I not anticipate their
+consent, and present myself to their embraces and their welcomes in her
+company?"
+
+Slight reflection showed me that this precipitation was improper.
+Whether Wallace had ever arrived at Malverton, whether Mr. Hadwin had
+escaped infection, whether his house were the abode of security and
+quiet, or a scene of desolation, were questions yet to be determined.
+The obvious and best proceeding was to hasten forward, to afford the
+Hadwins, if in distress, the feeble consolations of my friendship; or,
+if their state were happy, to procure their concurrence to my scheme
+respecting Clemenza.
+
+Actuated by these considerations, I resumed my journey. Looking forward,
+I perceived a chaise and horse standing by the left-hand fence, at the
+distance of some hundred yards. This object was not uncommon or strange,
+and, therefore, it was scarcely noticed. When I came near, however,
+methought I recognised in this carriage the same in which my
+importunities had procured a seat for the languishing Wallace, in the
+manner which I have formerly related.
+
+It was a crazy vehicle and old-fashioned. When once seen it could
+scarcely be mistaken or forgotten. The horse was held by his bridle to a
+post, but the seat was empty. My solicitude with regard to Wallace's
+destiny, of which he to whom the carriage belonged might possibly afford
+me some knowledge, made me stop and reflect on what measures it was
+proper to pursue.
+
+The rider could not be at a great distance from this spot. His absence
+would probably be short. By lingering a few minutes an interview might
+be gained, and the uncertainty and suspense of some hours be thereby
+precluded. I therefore waited, and the same person whom I had formerly
+encountered made his appearance, in a short time, from under a copse
+that skirted the road.
+
+He recognised me with more difficulty than attended my recognition of
+him. The circumstances, however, of our first meeting were easily
+recalled to his remembrance. I eagerly inquired when and where he had
+parted with the youth who had been, on that occasion, intrusted to his
+care.
+
+He answered that, on leaving the city and inhaling the purer air of the
+fields and woods, Wallace had been, in a wonderful degree, invigorated
+and refreshed. An instantaneous and total change appeared to have been
+wrought in him. He no longer languished with fatigue or fear, but became
+full of gayety and talk.
+
+The suddenness of this transition; the levity with which he related and
+commented on his recent dangers and evils, excited the astonishment of
+his companion, to whom he not only communicated the history of his
+disease, but imparted many anecdotes of a humorous kind. Some of these
+my companion repeated. I heard them with regret and dissatisfaction.
+They betokened a mind vitiated by intercourse with the thoughtless and
+depraved of both sexes, and particularly with infamous and profligate
+women.
+
+My companion proceeded to mention that Wallace's exhilaration lasted but
+for a short time, and disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. He
+was seized with deadly sickness, and insisted upon leaving the carriage,
+whose movements shocked his stomach and head to an insupportable degree.
+His companion was not void of apprehensions on his own account, but was
+unwilling to desert him, and endeavoured to encourage him. His efforts
+were vain. Though the nearest house was at the distance of some hundred
+yards, and though it was probable that the inhabitants of this house
+would refuse to accommodate one in his condition, yet Wallace could not
+be prevailed on to proceed; and, in spite of persuasion and
+remonstrance, left the carriage and threw himself on the grassy bank
+beside the road.
+
+This person was not unmindful of the hazard which he incurred by contact
+with a sick man. He conceived himself to have performed all that was
+consistent with duty to himself and to his family; and Wallace,
+persisting in affirming that, by attempting to ride farther, he should
+merely hasten his death, was at length left to his own guidance.
+
+These were unexpected and mournful tidings. I had fondly imagined that
+his safety was put beyond the reach of untoward accidents. Now, however,
+there was reason to suppose him to have perished by a lingering and
+painful disease, rendered fatal by the selfishness of mankind, by the
+want of seasonable remedies, and exposure to inclement airs. Some
+uncertainty, however, rested on his fate. It was my duty to remove it,
+and to carry to the Hadwins no mangled and defective tale. Where, I
+asked, had Wallace and his companion parted?
+
+It was about three miles farther onward. The spot, and the house within
+view from the spot, were accurately described. In this house it was
+possible that Wallace had sought an asylum, and some intelligence
+respecting him might be gained from its inhabitants. My informant was
+journeying to the city, so that we were obliged to separate.
+
+In consequence of this man's description of Wallace's deportment, and
+the proofs of a dissolute and thoughtless temper which he had given, I
+began to regard his death as an event less deplorable. Such a one was
+unworthy of a being so devoutly pure, so ardent in fidelity and
+tenderness, as Susan Hadwin. If he loved, it was probable that, in
+defiance of his vows, he would seek a different companion. If he adhered
+to his first engagements, his motives would be sordid, and the
+disclosure of his latent defects might produce more exquisite misery to
+his wife than his premature death or treacherous desertion.
+
+The preservation of this man was my sole motive for entering the
+infected city, and subjecting my own life to the hazards from which my
+escape may almost be esteemed miraculous. Was not the end
+disproportioned to the means? Was there arrogance in believing my life a
+price too great to be given for his?
+
+I was not, indeed, sorry for the past. My purpose was just, and the
+means which I selected were the best my limited knowledge supplied. My
+happiness should be drawn from reflecting on the equity of my
+intentions. That these intentions were frustrated by the ignorance of
+others, or my own, was the consequence of human frailty. Honest
+purposes, though they may not bestow happiness on others, will, at
+least, secure it to him who fosters them.
+
+By these reflections my regrets were dissipated, and I prepared to
+rejoice alike, whether Wallace should be found to have escaped or to
+have perished. The house to which I had been directed was speedily
+brought into view. I inquired for the master or mistress of the mansion,
+and was conducted to a lady of a plain and housewifely appearance.
+
+My curiosity was fully gratified. Wallace, whom my description easily
+identified, had made his appearance at her door on the evening of the
+day on which he left the city. The dread of _the fever_ was descanted on
+with copious and rude eloquence. I supposed her eloquence on this theme
+to be designed to apologize to me for her refusing entrance to the sick
+man. The peroration, however, was different. Wallace was admitted, and
+suitable attention paid to his wants.
+
+Happily, the guest had nothing to struggle with but extreme weakness.
+Repose, nourishing diet, and salubrious airs restored him in a short
+time to health. He lingered under this roof for three weeks, and then,
+without any professions of gratitude, or offers of pecuniary
+remuneration, or information of the course which he determined to take,
+he left them.
+
+These facts, added to that which I had previously known, threw no
+advantageous light upon the character of Wallace. It was obvious to
+conclude that he had gone to Malverton, and thither there was nothing to
+hinder me from following him.
+
+Perhaps one of my grossest defects is a precipitate temper. I choose my
+path suddenly, and pursue it with impetuous expedition. In the present
+instance, my resolution was conceived with unhesitating zeal, and I
+walked the faster that I might the sooner execute it. Miss Hadwin
+deserved to be happy. Love was in her heart the all-absorbing sentiment.
+A disappointment there was a supreme calamity. Depravity and folly must
+assume the guise of virtue before it can claim her affection. This
+disguise might be maintained for a time, but its detection must
+inevitably come, and the sooner this detection takes place the more
+beneficial it must prove.
+
+I resolved to unbosom myself, with equal and unbounded confidence, to
+Wallace and his mistress. I would choose for this end, not the moment
+when they were separate, but that in which they were together. My
+knowledge, and the sources of my knowledge, relative to Wallace, should
+be unfolded to the lady with simplicity and truth. The lover should be
+present, to confute, to extenuate, or to verify the charges.
+
+During the rest of the day these images occupied the chief place in my
+thoughts. The road was miry and dark, and my journey proved to be more
+tedious and fatiguing than I expected. At length, just as the evening
+closed, the well-known habitation appeared in view. Since my departure,
+winter had visited the world, and the aspect of nature was desolate and
+dreary. All around this house was vacant, negligent, forlorn. The
+contrast between these appearances and those which I had noticed on my
+first approach to it, when the ground and the trees were decked with
+the luxuriance and vivacity of summer, was mournful, and seemed to
+foretoken ill. My spirits drooped as I noticed the general inactivity
+and silence.
+
+I entered, without warning, the door that led into the parlour. No face
+was to be seen or voice heard. The chimney was ornamented, as in summer,
+with evergreen shrubs. Though it was now the second month of frost and
+snow, fire did not appear to have been lately kindled on this hearth.
+
+This was a circumstance from which nothing good could be deduced. Had
+there been those to share its comforts who had shared them on former
+years, this was the place and hour at which they commonly assembled. A
+door on one side led, through a narrow entry, into the kitchen. I opened
+this door, and passed towards the kitchen.
+
+No one was there but an old man, squatted in the chimney-corner. His
+face, though wrinkled, denoted undecayed health and an unbending spirit.
+A homespun coat, leathern breeches wrinkled with age, and blue yarn
+hose, were well suited to his lean and shrivelled form. On his right
+knee was a wooden bowl, which he had just replenished from a pipkin of
+hasty pudding still smoking on the coals; and in his left hand a spoon,
+which he had, at that moment, plunged into a bottle of molasses that
+stood beside him.
+
+This action was suspended by my entrance. He looked up and exclaimed,
+"Heyday! who's this that comes into other people's houses without so
+much as saying 'by your leave'? What's thee business? Who's thee want?"
+
+I had never seen this personage before. I supposed it to be some new
+domestic, and inquired for Mr. Hadwin.
+
+"Ah!" replied he, with a sigh, "William Hadwin. Is it him thee wants?
+Poor man! He is gone to rest many days since."
+
+My heart sunk within me at these tidings. "Dead!" said I; "do you mean
+that he is dead?"--This exclamation was uttered in a tone of some
+vehemence. It attracted the attention of some one who was standing
+without, who immediately entered the kitchen. It was Eliza Hadwin. The
+moment she beheld me she shrieked aloud, and, rushing into my arms,
+fainted away.
+
+The old man dropped his bowl; and, starting from his seat, stared
+alternately at me and at the breathless girl. My emotion, made up of
+joy, and sorrow, and surprise, rendered me for a moment powerless as
+she. At length he said, "I understand this. I know who thee is, and will
+tell her thee's come." So saying, he hastily left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+
+In a short time this gentle girl recovered her senses. She did not
+withdraw herself from my sustaining arm, but, leaning on my bosom, she
+resigned herself to passionate weeping. I did not endeavour to check
+this effusion, believing that its influence would be salutary.
+
+I had not forgotten the thrilling sensibility and artless graces of this
+girl. I had not forgotten the scruples which had formerly made me check
+a passion whose tendency was easily discovered. These new proofs of her
+affection were, at once, mournful and delightful. The untimely fate of
+her father and my friend pressed with new force upon my heart, and my
+tears, in spite of my fortitude, mingled with hers.
+
+The attention of both was presently attracted by a faint scream, which
+proceeded from above. Immediately tottering footsteps were heard in the
+passage, and a figure rushed into the room, pale, emaciated, haggard,
+and wild. She cast a piercing glance at me, uttered a feeble
+exclamation, and sunk upon the floor without signs of life.
+
+It was not difficult to comprehend this scene. I now conjectured, what
+subsequent inquiry confirmed, that the old man had mistaken me for
+Wallace, and had carried to the elder sister the news of his return.
+This fatal disappointment of hopes that had nearly been extinct, and
+which were now so powerfully revived, could not be endured by a frame
+verging to dissolution.
+
+This object recalled all the energies of Eliza, and engrossed all my
+solicitude. I lifted the fallen girl in my arms; and, guided by her
+sister, carried her to her chamber. I had now leisure to contemplate the
+changes which a few months had made in this lovely frame. I turned away
+from the spectacle with anguish, but my wandering eyes were recalled by
+some potent fascination, and fixed in horror upon a form which evinced
+the last stage of decay. Eliza knelt on one side, and, leaning her face
+upon the bed, endeavoured in vain to smother her sobs. I sat on the
+other motionless, and holding the passive and withered hand of the
+sufferer.
+
+I watched with ineffable solicitude the return of life. It returned at
+length, but merely to betray symptoms that it would speedily depart
+forever. For a time my faculties were palsied, and I was made an
+impotent spectator of the ruin that environed me. This pusillanimity
+quickly gave way to resolutions and reflections better suited to the
+exigencies of the time.
+
+The first impulse was to summon a physician; but it was evident that the
+patient had been sinking by slow degrees to this state, and that the
+last struggle had begun. Nothing remained but to watch her while
+expiring, and perform for her, when dead, the rites of interment. The
+survivor was capable of consolation and of succour. I went to her and
+drew her gently into another apartment. The old man, tremulous and
+wonder-struck, seemed anxious to perform some service. I directed him to
+kindle a fire in Eliza's chamber. Meanwhile I persuaded my gentle friend
+to remain in this chamber, and resign to me the performance of every
+office which her sister's condition required. I sat beside the bed of
+the dying till the mortal struggle was past.
+
+I perceived that the house had no inhabitant besides the two females and
+the old man. I went in search of the latter, and found him crouched, as
+before, at the kitchen-fire, smoking his pipe. I placed myself on the
+same bench, and entered into conversation with him.
+
+I gathered from him that he had, for many years, been Mr. Hadwin's
+servant. That lately he had cultivated a small farm in this
+neighbourhood for his own advantage. Stopping one day in October, at the
+tavern, he heard that his old master had lately been in the city, had
+caught _the fever_, and after his return had died with it. The moment he
+became sick, his servants fled from the house, and the neighbours
+refused to approach it. The task of attending his sick-bed was allotted
+to his daughters, and it was by their hands that his grave was dug and
+his body covered with earth. The same terror of infection existed after
+his death as before, and these hapless females were deserted by all
+mankind.
+
+Old Caleb was no sooner informed of these particulars, than he hurried
+to the house, and had since continued in their service. His heart was
+kind, but it was easily seen that his skill extended only to execute the
+directions of another. Grief for the death of Wallace and her father
+preyed upon the health of the eldest daughter. The younger became her
+nurse, and Caleb was always at hand to execute any orders the
+performance of which was on a level with his understanding. Their
+neighbours had not withheld their good offices, but they were still
+terrified and estranged by the phantoms of pestilence.
+
+During the last week Susan had been too weak to rise from her bed; yet
+such was the energy communicated by the tidings that Wallace was alive,
+and had returned, that she leaped upon her feet and rushed down-stairs.
+How little did that man deserve so strenuous and immortal an affection!
+
+I would not allow myself to ponder on the sufferings of these women. I
+endeavoured to think only of the best expedients for putting an end to
+these calamities. After a moment's deliberation I determined to go to a
+house at some miles' distance; the dwelling of one who, though not
+exempt from the reigning panic, had shown more generosity towards these
+unhappy girls than others. During my former abode in this district, I
+had ascertained his character, and found him to be compassionate and
+liberal.
+
+Overpowered by fatigue and watching, Eliza was no sooner relieved, by my
+presence, of some portion of her cares, than she sunk into profound
+slumber. I directed Caleb to watch the house till my return, which
+should be before midnight, and then set out for the dwelling of Mr.
+Ellis.
+
+The weather was temperate and moist, and rendered the footing of the
+meadows extremely difficult. The ground, that had lately been frozen and
+covered with snow, was now changed into gullies and pools, and this was
+no time to be fastidious in the choice of paths. A brook, swelled by the
+recent _thaw_, was likewise to be passed. The rail which I had formerly
+placed over it by way of bridge had disappeared, and I was obliged to
+wade through it. At length I approached the house to which I was going.
+
+At so late an hour, farmers and farmers' servants are usually abed, and
+their threshold is intrusted to their watch-dogs. Two belonged to Mr.
+Ellis, whose ferocity and vigilance were truly formidable to a stranger;
+but I hoped that in me they would recognise an old acquaintance, and
+suffer me to approach. In this I was not mistaken. Though my person
+could not be distinctly seen by starlight, they seemed to scent me from
+afar, and met me with a thousand caresses.
+
+Approaching the house, I perceived that its tenants were retired to
+their repose. This I expected, and hastened to awaken Mr. Ellis, by
+knocking briskly at the door. Presently he looked out of a window above,
+and, in answer to his inquiries, in which impatience at being so
+unseasonably disturbed was mingled with anxiety, I told him my name, and
+entreated him to come down and allow me a few minutes' conversation. He
+speedily dressed himself, and, opening the kitchen door, we seated
+ourselves before the fire.
+
+My appearance was sufficiently adapted to excite his wonder; he had
+heard of my elopement from the house of Mr. Hadwin, he was a stranger to
+the motives that prompted my departure, and to the events that had
+befallen me, and no interview was more distant from his expectations
+than the present. His curiosity was written in his features, but this
+was no time to gratify his curiosity. The end that I now had in view was
+to procure accommodation for Eliza Hadwin in this man's house. For this
+purpose it was my duty to describe, with simplicity and truth, the
+inconveniences which at present surrounded her, and to relate all that
+had happened since my arrival.
+
+I perceived that my tale excited his compassion, and I continued with
+new zeal to paint to him the helplessness of this girl. The death of
+her father and sister left her the property of this farm. Her sex and
+age disqualified her for superintending the harvest-field and the
+threshing-floor; and no expedient was left but to lease the land to
+another, and, taking up her abode in the family of some kinsman or
+friend, to subsist, as she might easily do, upon the rent. Meanwhile her
+continuance in this house was equally useless and dangerous, and I
+insinuated to my companion the propriety of immediately removing her to
+his own.
+
+Some hesitation and reluctance appeared in him, which I immediately
+ascribed to an absurd dread of infection. I endeavoured, by appealing to
+his reason as well as to his pity, to conquer this dread. I pointed out
+the true cause of the death of the elder daughter, and assured him the
+youngest knew no indisposition but that which arose from distress. I
+offered to save him from any hazard that might attend his approaching
+the house, by accompanying her hither myself. All that her safety
+required was that his doors should not be shut against her when she
+presented herself before them.
+
+Still he was fearful and reluctant; and, at length, mentioned that her
+uncle resided not more than sixteen miles farther; that he was her
+natural protector, and, he dared to say, would find no difficulty in
+admitting her into his house. For his part, there might be reason in
+what I said, but he could not bring himself to think but that there was
+still some danger of _the fever_. It was right to assist people in
+distress, to-be-sure; but to risk his own life he did not think to be
+his duty. He was no relation of the family, and it was the duty of
+relations to help each other. Her uncle was the proper person to assist
+her, and no doubt he would be as willing as able.
+
+The marks of dubiousness and indecision which accompanied these words
+encouraged me in endeavouring to subdue his scruples. The increase of
+his aversion to my scheme kept pace with my remonstrances, and he
+finally declared that he would, on no account, consent to it.
+
+Ellis was by no means hard of heart. His determination did not prove the
+coldness of his charity, but merely the strength of his fears. He was
+himself an object more of compassion than of anger; and he acted like
+the man whose fear of death prompts him to push his companion from the
+plank which saved him from drowning, but which is unable to sustain
+both. Finding him invincible to my entreaties, I thought upon the
+expedient which he suggested of seeking the protection of her uncle. It
+was true that the loss of parents had rendered her uncle her legal
+protector. His knowledge of the world; his house and property and
+influence, would, perhaps, fit him for this office in a more eminent
+degree than I was fitted. To seek a different asylum might, indeed, be
+unjust to both; and, after some reflection, I not only dismissed the
+regret which Ellis's refusal had given me, but even thanked him for the
+intelligence and counsel which he had afforded me. I took leave of him,
+and hastened back to Hadwin's.
+
+Eliza, by Caleb's report, was still asleep. There was no urgent
+necessity for awakening her; but something was forthwith to be done with
+regard to the unhappy girl that was dead. The proceeding incumbent on us
+was obvious. All that remained was to dig a grave, and to deposit the
+remains with as much solemnity and decency as the time would permit.
+There were two methods of doing this. I might wait till the next day;
+till a coffin could be made and conveyed hither; till the woman, whose
+trade it was to make and put on the habiliments assigned by custom to
+the dead, could be sought out and hired to attend; till kindred,
+friends, and neighbours could be summoned to the obsequies; till a
+carriage were provided to remove the body to a burying-ground, belonging
+to a meeting-house, and five miles distant; till those whose trade it
+was to dig graves had prepared one, within the sacred enclosure, for her
+reception; or, neglecting this toilsome, tedious, and expensive
+ceremonial, I might seek the grave of Hadwin, and lay the daughter by
+the side of her parent.
+
+Perhaps I was strong in my preference of the latter mode. The customs of
+burial may, in most cases, be in themselves proper. If the customs be
+absurd, yet it may be generally proper to adhere to them; but doubtless
+there are cases in which it is our duty to omit them. I conceived the
+present case to be such a one.
+
+The season was bleak and inclement. Much time, labour, and expense would
+be required to go through the customary rites. There was none but myself
+to perform these, and I had not the suitable means. The misery of Eliza
+would only be prolonged by adhering to these forms, and her fortune be
+needlessly diminished by the expenses unavoidably to be incurred.
+
+After musing upon these ideas for some time, I rose from my seat, and
+desired Caleb to follow me. We proceeded to an outer shed where farmers'
+tools used to be kept. I supplied him and myself with a spade, and
+requested him to lead me to the spot where Mr. Hadwin was laid.
+
+He betrayed some hesitation to comply, and appeared struck with some
+degree of alarm, as if my purpose had been to molest, instead of
+securing, the repose of the dead. I removed his doubts by explaining my
+intentions; but he was scarcely less shocked, on discovering the truth,
+than he had been alarmed by his first suspicions. He stammered out his
+objections to my scheme. There was but one mode of burial, he thought,
+that was decent and proper, and he could not be free to assist me in
+pursuing any other mode.
+
+Perhaps Caleb's aversion to the scheme might have been easily overcome;
+but I reflected that a mind like his was at once flexible and obstinate.
+He might yield to arguments and entreaties, and act by their immediate
+impulse; but the impulse passed away in a moment, old and habitual
+convictions were resumed, and his deviation from the beaten track would
+be merely productive of compunction. His aid, on the present occasion,
+though of some use, was by no means indispensable. I forbore to solicit
+his concurrence, or even to vanquish the scruples he entertained against
+directing me to the grave of Hadwin. It was a groundless superstition
+that made one spot more suitable for this purpose than another. I
+desired Caleb, in a mild tone, to return to the kitchen, and leave me to
+act as I thought proper. I then proceeded to the orchard.
+
+One corner of this field was somewhat above the level of the rest. The
+tallest tree of the group grew there, and there I had formerly placed a
+bench, and made it my retreat at periods of leisure. It had been
+recommended by its sequestered situation, its luxuriant verdure, and
+profound quiet. On one side was a potato-field, on the other a
+_melon-patch_; and before me, in rows, some hundreds of apple-trees.
+Here I was accustomed to seek the benefits of contemplation and study
+the manuscripts of Lodi. A few months had passed since I had last
+visited this spot. What revolutions had since occurred, and how gloomily
+contrasted was my present purpose with what had formerly led me hither!
+
+In this spot I had hastily determined to dig the grave of Susan. The
+grave was dug. All that I desired was a cavity of sufficient dimensions
+to receive her. This being made, I returned to the house, lifted the
+corpse in my arms, and bore it without delay to the spot. Caleb, seated
+in the kitchen, and Eliza, asleep in her chamber, were wholly unapprized
+of my motions. The grave was covered, the spade reposited under the
+shed, and my seat by the kitchen-fire resumed in a time apparently too
+short for so solemn and momentous a transaction.
+
+I look back upon this incident with emotions not easily described. It
+seems as if I acted with too much precipitation; as if insensibility,
+and not reason, had occasioned that clearness of conceptions, and
+bestowed that firmness of muscles, which I then experienced. I neither
+trembled nor wavered in my purpose. I bore in my arms the being whom I
+had known and loved, through the whistling gale and intense darkness of
+a winter's night; I heaped earth upon her limbs, and covered them from
+human observation, without fluctuations or tremors, though not without
+feelings that were awful and sublime.
+
+Perhaps some part of my steadfastness was owing to my late experience,
+and some minds may be more easily inured to perilous emergencies than
+others. If reason acquires strength only by the diminution of
+sensibility, perhaps it is just for sensibility to be diminished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+
+The safety of Eliza was the object that now occupied my cares. To have
+slept, after her example, had been most proper; but my uncertainty with
+regard to her fate, and my desire to conduct her to some other home,
+kept my thoughts in perpetual motion. I waited with impatience till she
+should awake and allow me to consult with her on plans for futurity.
+
+Her sleep terminated not till the next day had arisen. Having recovered
+the remembrance of what had lately happened, she inquired for her
+sister. She wanted to view once more the face and kiss the lips of her
+beloved Susan. Some relief to her anguish she expected to derive from
+this privilege.
+
+When informed of the truth, when convinced that Susan had disappeared
+forever, she broke forth into fresh passion. It seemed as if her loss
+was not hopeless or complete as long as she was suffered to behold the
+face of her friend and to touch her lips. She accused me of acting
+without warrant and without justice; of defrauding her of her dearest
+and only consolation; and of treating her sister's sacred remains with
+barbarous indifference and rudeness.
+
+I explained in the gentlest terms the reasons of my conduct. I was not
+surprised or vexed that she, at first, treated them as futile, and as
+heightening my offence. Such was the impulse of a grief which was
+properly excited by her loss. To be tranquil and steadfast, in the midst
+of the usual causes of impetuosity and agony, is either the prerogative
+of wisdom that sublimes itself above all selfish considerations, or the
+badge of giddy and unfeeling folly.
+
+The torrent was at length exhausted. Upbraiding was at an end; and
+gratitude, and tenderness, and implicit acquiescence in any scheme which
+my prudence should suggest, succeeded. I mentioned her uncle as one to
+whom it would be proper, in her present distress, to apply.
+
+She started and betrayed uneasiness at this name. It was evident that
+she by no means concurred with me in my notions of propriety; that she
+thought with aversion of seeking her uncle's protection. I requested her
+to state her objections to this scheme, or to mention any other which
+she thought preferable.
+
+She knew nobody. She had not a friend in the world but myself. She had
+never been out of her father's house. She had no relation but her uncle
+Philip, and he--she could not live with him. I must not insist upon her
+going to his house. It was not the place for her. She should never be
+happy there.
+
+I was, at first, inclined to suspect in my friend some capricious and
+groundless antipathy. I desired her to explain what in her uncle's
+character made him so obnoxious. She refused to be more explicit, and
+persisted in thinking that his house was no suitable abode for her.
+
+Finding her, in this respect, invincible, I sought for some other
+expedient. Might she not easily be accommodated as a boarder in the
+city, or some village, or in a remote quarter of the country? Ellis, her
+nearest and most opulent neighbour, had refused to receive her; but
+there were others who had not his fears. There were others, within the
+compass of a day's journey, who were strangers to the cause of Hadwin's
+death; but would it not be culpable to take advantage of that ignorance?
+Their compliance ought not to be the result of deception.
+
+While thus engaged, the incidents of my late journey recurred to my
+remembrance, and I asked, "Is not the honest woman, who entertained
+Wallace, just such a person as that of whom I am in search? Her
+treatment of Wallace shows her to be exempt from chimerical fears,
+proves that she has room in her house for an occasional inmate."
+
+Encouraged by these views, I told my weeping companion that I had
+recollected a family in which she would be kindly treated; and that, if
+she chose, we would not lose a moment in repairing thither. Horses,
+belonging to the farm, grazed in the meadows, and a couple of these
+would carry us in a few hours to the place which I had selected for her
+residence. On her eagerly assenting to this proposal, I inquired in
+whose care, and in what state, our present habitation should be left.
+
+The father's property now belonged to the daughter. Eliza's mind was
+quick, active, and sagacious; but her total inexperience gave her
+sometimes the appearance of folly. She was eager to fly from this house,
+and to resign herself and her property, without limitation or condition,
+to my control. Our intercourse had been short, but she relied on my
+protection and counsel as absolutely as she had been accustomed to do
+upon her father's.
+
+She knew not what answer to make to my inquiry. Whatever I pleased to do
+was the best. What did I think ought to be done?
+
+"Ah!" thought I, "sweet, artless, and simple girl! how wouldst thou have
+fared, if Heaven had not sent me to thy succour? There are beings in the
+world who would make a selfish use of thy confidence; who would beguile
+thee at once of innocence and property. Such am not I. Thy welfare is a
+precious deposit, and no father or brother could watch over it with more
+solicitude than I will do."
+
+I was aware that Mr. Hadwin might have fixed the destination of his
+property, and the guardianship of his daughters, by will. On suggesting
+this to my friend, it instantly reminded her of an incident that took
+place after his last return from the city. He had drawn up his will, and
+gave it into Susan's possession, who placed it in a drawer, whence it
+was now taken by my friend.
+
+By this will his property was now found to be bequeathed to his two
+daughters; and his brother, Philip Hadwin, was named executor, and
+guardian to his daughters till they should be twenty years old. This
+name was no sooner heard by my friend, than she exclaimed, in a tone of
+affright, "Executor! My uncle! What is that? What power does that give
+him?"
+
+"I know not exactly the power of executors. He will, doubtless, have
+possession of your property till you are twenty years of age. Your
+person will likewise be under his care till that time."
+
+"Must he decide where I am to live?"
+
+"He is vested with all the power of a father."
+
+This assurance excited the deepest consternation. She fixed her eyes on
+the ground, and was lost, for a time, in the deepest reverie.
+Recovering, at length, she said, with a sigh, "What if my father had
+made no will?"
+
+"In that case, a guardian could not be dispensed with, but the right of
+naming him would belong to yourself."
+
+"And my uncle would have nothing to do with my affairs?"
+
+"I am no lawyer," said I; "but I presume all authority over your person
+and property would devolve upon the guardian of your own choice."
+
+"Then I am free." Saying this, with a sudden motion, she tore in several
+pieces the will, which, during this dialogue, she had held in her hand,
+and threw the fragments into the fire.
+
+No action was more unexpected to me than this. My astonishment hindered
+me from attempting to rescue the paper from the flames. It was consumed
+in a moment. I was at a loss in what manner to regard this sacrifice. It
+denoted a force of mind little in unison with that simplicity and
+helplessness which this girl had hitherto displayed. It argued the
+deepest apprehensions of mistreatment from her uncle. Whether his
+conduct had justified this violent antipathy, I had no means of judging.
+Mr. Hadwin's choice of him, as his executor, was certainly one proof of
+his integrity.
+
+My abstraction was noticed by Eliza with visible anxiety. It was plain
+that she dreaded the impression which this act of seeming temerity had
+made upon me. "Do not be angry with me," said she; "perhaps I have been
+wrong, but I could not help it. I will have but one guardian and one
+protector."
+
+The deed was irrevocable. In my present ignorance of the domestic
+history of the Hadwins, I was unqualified to judge how far circumstances
+might extenuate or justify the act. On both accounts, therefore, it was
+improper to expatiate upon it.
+
+It was concluded to leave the care of the house to honest Caleb; to
+fasten closets and drawers, and, carrying away the money which was found
+in one of them, and which amounted to no inconsiderable sum, to repair
+to the house formerly mentioned. The air was cold; a heavy snow began to
+fall in the night; the wind blew tempestuously; and we were compelled to
+confront it.
+
+In leaving her dwelling, in which she had spent her whole life, the
+unhappy girl gave way afresh to her sorrow. It made her feeble and
+helpless. When placed upon the horse, she was scarcely able to maintain
+her seat. Already chilled by the cold, blinded by the drifting snow, and
+cut by the blast, all my remonstrances were needed to inspire her with
+resolution.
+
+I am not accustomed to regard the elements, or suffer them to retard or
+divert me from any design that I have formed. I had overlooked the weak
+and delicate frame of my companion, and made no account of her being
+less able to support cold and fatigue than myself. It was not till we
+had made some progress in our way, that I began to view, in their true
+light, the obstacles that were to be encountered. I conceived it,
+however, too late to retreat, and endeavoured to push on with speed.
+
+My companion was a skilful rider, but her steed was refractory and
+unmanageable. She was able, however, to curb his spirit till we had
+proceeded ten or twelve miles from Malverton. The wind and the cold
+became too violent to be longer endured, and I resolved to stop at the
+first house which should present itself to my view, for the sake of
+refreshment and warmth.
+
+We now entered a wood of some extent, at the termination of which I
+remembered that a dwelling stood. To pass this wood, therefore, with
+expedition, was all that remained before we could reach a hospitable
+asylum. I endeavoured to sustain, by this information, the sinking
+spirits of my companion. While busy in conversing with her, a blast of
+irresistible force twisted off the highest branch of a tree before us.
+It fell in the midst of the road, at the distance of a few feet from her
+horse's head. Terrified by this accident, the horse started from the
+path, and, rushing into the wood, in a moment threw himself and his
+rider on the ground, by encountering the rugged stock of an oak.
+
+I dismounted and flew to her succour. The snow was already dyed with the
+blood which flowed from some wound in her head, and she lay without
+sense or motion. My terrors did not hinder me from anxiously searching
+for the hurt which was received, and ascertaining the extent of the
+injury. Her forehead was considerably bruised; but, to my unspeakable
+joy, the blood flowed from the nostrils, and was, therefore, to be
+regarded as no mortal symptom.
+
+I lifted her in my arms, and looked around me for some means of relief.
+The house at which I proposed to stop was upwards of a mile distant. I
+remembered none that was nearer. To place the wounded girl on my own
+horse, and proceed gently to the house in question, was the sole
+expedient; but, at present, she was senseless, and might, on recovering,
+be too feeble to sustain her own weight.
+
+To recall her to life was my first duty; but I was powerless, or
+unacquainted with the means. I gazed upon her features, and endeavoured,
+by pressing her in my arms, to inspire her with some warmth. I looked
+towards the road, and listened for the wished-for sound of some carriage
+that might be prevailed on to stop and receive her. Nothing was more
+improbable than that either pleasure or business would induce men to
+encounter so chilling and vehement a blast. To be lighted on by some
+traveller was, therefore, a hopeless event.
+
+Meanwhile, Eliza's swoon continued, and my alarm increased. What effect
+her half-frozen blood would have in prolonging this condition, or
+preventing her return to life, awakened the deepest apprehensions. I
+left the wood, still bearing her in my arms, and re-entered the road,
+from the desire of descrying, as soon as possible, the coming passenger.
+I looked this way and that, and again listened. Nothing but the sweeping
+blast, rent and fallen branches, and snow that filled and obscured the
+air, were perceivable. Each moment retarded the course of my own blood
+and stiffened my sinews, and made the state of my companion more
+desperate. How was I to act? To perish myself, or see her perish, was an
+ignoble fate; courage and activity were still able to avert it. My horse
+stood near, docile and obsequious; to mount him and to proceed on my
+way, holding my lifeless burden in my arms, was all that remained.
+
+At this moment my attention was called by several voices issuing from
+the wood. It was the note of gayety and glee. Presently a sleigh, with
+several persons of both sexes, appeared, in a road which led through the
+forest into that in which I stood. They moved at a quick pace, but their
+voices were hushed, and they checked the speed of their horses, on
+discovering us. No occurrence was more auspicious than this; for I
+relied with perfect confidence on the benevolence of these persons, and,
+as soon as they came near, claimed their assistance.
+
+My story was listened to with sympathy, and one of the young men,
+leaping from the sleigh, assisted me in placing Eliza in the place which
+he had left. A female, of sweet aspect and engaging manners, insisted
+upon turning back and hastening to the house, where it seems her father
+resided, and which the party had just left. I rode after the sleigh,
+which in a few minutes arrived at the house. The dwelling was spacious
+and neat, and a venerable man and woman, alarmed by the quick return of
+the young people, came forth to know the cause. They received their
+guest with the utmost tenderness, and provided her with all the
+accommodations which her condition required. Their daughter relinquished
+the scheme of pleasure in which she had been engaged, and, compelling
+her companions to depart without her, remained to nurse and console the
+sick.
+
+A little time showed that no lasting injury had been suffered.
+Contusions, more troublesome than dangerous, and easily curable by such
+applications as rural and traditional wisdom has discovered, were the
+only consequences of the fall. My mind, being relieved from
+apprehensions on this score, had leisure to reflect upon the use which
+might be made of the present state of things.
+
+When I remarked the structure of this house, and the features and
+deportment of its inhabitants, methought I discerned a powerful
+resemblance between this family and Hadwin's. It seemed as if some
+benignant power had led us hither as to the most suitable asylum that
+could be obtained; and, in order to supply to the forlorn Eliza the
+place of those parents and that sister she had lost, I conceived that,
+if their concurrence could be gained, no abode was more suitable than
+this. No time was to be lost in gaining this concurrence. The curiosity
+of our host and hostess, whose name was Curling, speedily afforded me an
+opportunity to disclose the history and real situation of my friend.
+There were no motives to reserve or prevarication. There was nothing
+which I did not faithfully and circumstantially relate. I concluded with
+stating my wishes that they would admit my friend as a boarder into
+their house.
+
+The old man was warm in his concurrence. His wife betrayed some
+scruples; which, however, her husband's arguments and mine removed. I
+did not even suppress the tenor and destruction of the will, and the
+antipathy which Eliza had conceived for her uncle, and which I declared
+myself unable to explain. It presently appeared that Mr. Curling had
+some knowledge of Philip Hadwin, and that the latter had acquired the
+repute of being obdurate and profligate. He employed all means to
+accomplish his selfish ends, and would probably endeavour to usurp the
+property which his brother had left. To provide against his power and
+his malice would be particularly incumbent on us, and my new friend
+readily promised his assistance in the measures which we should take to
+that end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+
+The state of my feelings may be easily conceived to consist of mixed,
+but, on the whole, of agreeable, sensations. The death of Hadwin and his
+elder daughter could not be thought upon without keen regrets. These it
+was useless to indulge, and were outweighed by reflections on the
+personal security in which the survivor was now placed. It was hurtful
+to expend my unprofitable cares upon the dead, while there existed one
+to whom they could be of essential benefit, and in whose happiness they
+would find an ample compensation.
+
+This happiness, however, was still incomplete. It was still exposed to
+hazard, and much remained to be done before adequate provision was made
+against the worst of evils, poverty. I now found that Eliza, being only
+fifteen years old, stood in need of a guardian, and that the forms of
+law required that some one should make himself her father's
+administrator. Mr. Curling, being tolerably conversant with these
+subjects, pointed out the mode to be pursued, and engaged to act on this
+occasion as Eliza's friend.
+
+There was another topic on which my happiness, as well as that of my
+friend, required us to form some decision. I formerly mentioned, that,
+during my abode at Malverton, I had not been insensible to the
+attractions of this girl. An affection had stolen upon me, for which it
+was easily discovered that I should not have been denied a suitable
+return. My reasons for stifling these emotions, at that time, have been
+mentioned. It may now be asked, what effect subsequent events had
+produced on my feelings, and how far partaking and relieving her
+distresses had revived a passion which may readily be supposed to have
+been, at no time, entirely extinguished.
+
+The impediments which then existed were removed. Our union would no
+longer risk the resentment or sorrow of her excellent parent. She had no
+longer a sister to divide with her the property of the farm, and make
+what was sufficient for both, when living together, too little for
+either separately. Her youth and simplicity required, beyond most
+others, a legal protector, and her happiness was involved in the success
+of those hopes which she took no pains to conceal.
+
+As to me, it seemed at first view as if every incident conspired to
+determine my choice. Omitting all regard to the happiness of others, my
+own interest could not fail to recommend a scheme by which the precious
+benefits of competence and independence might be honestly obtained. The
+excursions of my fancy had sometimes carried me beyond the bounds
+prescribed by my situation, but they were, nevertheless, limited to that
+field to which I had once some prospect of acquiring a title. All I
+wanted for the basis of my gaudiest and most dazzling structures was a
+hundred acres of plough-land and meadow. Here my spirit of improvement,
+my zeal to invent and apply new maxims of household luxury and
+convenience, new modes and instruments of tillage, new arts connected
+with orchard, garden, and cornfield, were supplied with abundant scope.
+Though the want of these would not benumb my activity, or take away
+content, the possession would confer exquisite and permanent enjoyments.
+
+My thoughts have ever hovered over the images of wife and children with
+more delight than over any other images. My fancy was always active on
+this theme, and its reveries sufficiently ecstatic and glowing; but,
+since my intercourse with this girl, my scattered visions were collected
+and concentrated. I had now a form and features before me; a sweet and
+melodious voice vibrated in my ear; my soul was filled, as it were, with
+her lineaments and gestures, actions and looks. All ideas, possessing
+any relation to beauty or sex, appeared to assume this shape. They kept
+an immovable place in my mind, they diffused around them an ineffable
+complacency. Love is merely of value as a prelude to a more tender,
+intimate, and sacred union. Was I not in love? and did I not pant after
+the irrevocable bounds, the boundless privileges, of wedlock?
+
+The question which others might ask, I have asked myself:--Was I not in
+love? I am really at a loss for an answer. There seemed to be
+irresistible weight in the reasons why I should refuse to marry, and
+even forbear to foster love in my friend. I considered my youth, my
+defective education, and my limited views. I had passed from my cottage
+into the world. I had acquired, even in my transient sojourn among the
+busy haunts of men, more knowledge than the lucubrations and employments
+of all my previous years had conferred. Hence I might infer the
+childlike immaturity of my understanding, and the rapid progress I was
+still capable of making. Was this an age to form an irrevocable
+contract; to choose the companion of my future life, the associate of my
+schemes of intellectual and benevolent activity?
+
+I had reason to contemn my own acquisitions; but were not those of Eliza
+still more slender? Could I rely upon the permanence of her equanimity
+and her docility to my instructions? What qualities might not time
+unfold, and how little was I qualified to estimate the character of one
+whom no vicissitude or hardship had approached before the death of her
+father,--whose ignorance was, indeed, great, when it could justly be
+said even to exceed my own!
+
+Should I mix with the world, enroll myself in different classes of
+society, be a witness to new scenes; might not my modes of judging
+undergo essential variations? Might I not gain the knowledge of beings
+whose virtue was the gift of experience and the growth of knowledge? who
+joined to the modesty and charms of woman the benefits of education, the
+maturity and steadfastness of age, and with whose character and
+sentiments my own would be much more congenial than they could possibly
+be with the extreme youth, rustic simplicity, and mental imperfections
+of Eliza Hadwin?
+
+To say truth, I was now conscious of a revolution in my mind. I can
+scarcely assign its true cause. No tokens of it appeared during my late
+retreat to Malverton. Subsequent incidents, perhaps, joined with the
+influence of meditation, had generated new views. On my first visit to
+the city, I had met with nothing but scenes of folly, depravity, and
+cunning. No wonder that the images connected with the city were
+disastrous and gloomy; but my second visit produced somewhat different
+impressions. Maravegli, Estwick, Medlicote, and you, were beings who
+inspired veneration and love. Your residence appeared to beautify and
+consecrate this spot, and gave birth to an opinion that, if cities are
+the chosen seats of misery and vice, they are likewise the soil of all
+the laudable and strenuous productions of mind.
+
+My curiosity and thirst of knowledge had likewise received a new
+direction. Books and inanimate nature were cold and lifeless
+instructors. Men, and the works of men, were the objects of rational
+study, and our own eyes only could communicate just conceptions of human
+performances. The influence of manners, professions, and social
+institutions, could be thoroughly known only by direct inspection.
+
+Competence, fixed property and a settled abode, rural occupations and
+conjugal pleasures, were justly to be prized; but their value could be
+known and their benefits fully enjoyed only by those who have tried all
+scenes; who have mixed with all classes and ranks; who have partaken of
+all conditions; and who have visited different hemispheres and climates
+and nations. The next five or eight years of my life should be devoted
+to activity and change; it should be a period of hardship, danger, and
+privation; it should be my apprenticeship to fortitude and wisdom, and
+be employed to fit me for the tranquil pleasures and steadfast exertions
+of the remainder of my life.
+
+In consequence of these reflections, I determined to suppress that
+tenderness which the company of Miss Hadwin produced, to remove any
+mistakes into which she had fallen, and to put it out of my power to
+claim for her more than the dues of friendship. All ambiguities, in a
+case like this, and all delays, were hurtful. She was not exempt from
+passion, but this passion, I thought, was young, and easily
+extinguished.
+
+In a short time her health was restored, and her grief melted down into
+a tender melancholy. I chose a suitable moment, when not embarrassed by
+the presence of others, to reveal my thoughts. My disclosure was
+ingenuous and perfect. I laid before her the whole train of my thoughts,
+nearly in the order, though in different and more copious terms than
+those, in which I have just explained them to you. I concealed nothing.
+The impression which her artless loveliness had made upon me at
+Malverton; my motives for estranging myself from her society; the nature
+of my present feelings with regard to her, and my belief of the state of
+her heart; the reasonings into which I had entered; the advantages of
+wedlock and its inconveniences; and, finally, the resolution I had
+formed of seeking the city, and, perhaps, of crossing the ocean, were
+minutely detailed.
+
+She interrupted me not, but changing looks, blushes, flutterings, and
+sighs, showed her to be deeply and variously affected by my discourse. I
+paused for some observation or comment. She seemed conscious of my
+expectation, but had no power to speak. Overpowered, at length, by her
+emotions, she burst into tears.
+
+I was at a loss in what manner to construe these symptoms. I waited till
+her vehemence was somewhat subsided, and then said, "What think you of
+my schemes? Your approbation is of some moment: do you approve of them
+or not?"
+
+This question excited some little resentment, and she answered, "You
+have left me nothing to say. Go, and be happy; no matter what becomes of
+me. I hope I shall be able to take care of myself."
+
+The tone in which this was said had something in it of upbraiding. "Your
+happiness," said I, "is too dear to me to leave it in danger. In this
+house you will not need my protection, but I shall never be so far from
+you as to be disabled from hearing how you fare, by letter, and of being
+active for your good. You have some money, which you must husband well.
+Any rent from your farm cannot be soon expected; but what you have got,
+if you remain with Mr. Curling, will pay your board and all other
+expenses for two years; but you must be a good economist. I shall
+expect," continued I, with a serious smile, "a punctual account of all
+your sayings and doings. I must know how every minute is employed and
+every penny is expended, and, if I find you erring, I must tell you so
+in good round terms."
+
+These words did not dissipate the sullenness which her looks had
+betrayed. She still forbore to look at me, and said, "I do not know how
+I should tell you every thing. You care so little about me that--I
+should only be troublesome. I am old enough to think and act for myself,
+and shall advise with nobody but myself."
+
+"That is true," said I. "I shall rejoice to see you independent and
+free. Consult your own understanding, and act according to its dictates.
+Nothing more is wanting to make you useful and happy. I am anxious to
+return to the city, but, if you will allow me, will go first to
+Malverton, see that things are in due order, and that old Caleb is well.
+From thence, if you please, I will call at your uncle's, and tell him
+what has happened. He may, otherwise, entertain pretensions and form
+views erroneous in themselves and injurious to you. He may think himself
+entitled to manage your estate. He may either suppose a will to have
+been made, or may actually have heard from your father, or from others,
+of that which you burnt, and in which he was named executor. His
+boisterous and sordid temper may prompt him to seize your house and
+goods, unless seasonably apprized of the truth; and, when he knows the
+truth, he may start into rage, which I shall be more fitted to encounter
+than you. I am told that anger transforms him into a ferocious madman.
+Shall I call upon him?"
+
+She shuddered at the picture which I had drawn of her uncle's character;
+but this emotion quickly gave place to self-upbraiding for the manner in
+which she had repelled my proffers of service. She melted once more into
+tears, and exclaimed,--
+
+"I am not worthy of the pains you take for me. I am unfeeling and
+ungrateful. Why should I think ill of you for despising me, when I
+despise myself?"
+
+"You do yourself injustice, my friend. I think I see your most secret
+thoughts; and these, instead of exciting anger or contempt, only awaken
+compassion and tenderness. You love; and must, therefore, conceive my
+conduct to be perverse and cruel. I counted on your harbouring such
+thoughts. Time only and reflection will enable you to see my motives in
+their true light. Hereafter you will recollect my words, and find them
+sufficient to justify my conduct. You will acknowledge the propriety of
+my engaging in the cares of the world before I sit down in retirement
+and ease."
+
+"Ah! how much you mistake me! I admire and approve of your schemes. What
+angers and distresses me is, that you think me unworthy to partake of
+your cares and labours; that you regard my company as an obstacle and
+encumbrance; that assistance and counsel must all proceed from you; and
+that no scene is fit for me, but what you regard as slothful and
+inglorious.
+
+"Have I not the same claims to be wise, and active, and courageous, as
+you? If I am ignorant and weak, do I not owe it to the same cause that
+has made you so? and will not the same means which promote your
+improvement be likewise useful to me? You desire to obtain knowledge, by
+travelling and conversing with many persons, and studying many sciences;
+but you desire it for yourself alone. Me you think poor, weak, and
+contemptible; fit for nothing but to spin and churn. Provided I exist,
+am screened from the weather, have enough to eat and drink, you are
+satisfied. As to strengthening my mind and enlarging my knowledge, these
+things are valuable to you, but on me they are thrown away. I deserve
+not the gift."
+
+This strain, simple and just as it was, was wholly unexpected. I was
+surprised and disconcerted. In my previous reasonings I had certainly
+considered her sex as utterly unfitting her for those scenes and
+pursuits to which I had destined myself. Not a doubt of the validity of
+my conclusion had insinuated itself; but now my belief was shaken,
+though it was not subverted. I could not deny that human ignorance was
+curable by the same means in one sex as in the other; that fortitude
+and skill were of no less value to one than to the other.
+
+Questionless, my friend was rendered, by her age and inexperience, if
+not by sex, more helpless and dependent than I; but had I not been prone
+to overrate the difficulties which I should encounter? Had I not deemed
+unjustly of her constancy and force of mind? Marriage would render her
+property joint, and would not compel me to take up my abode in the
+woods, to abide forever in one spot, to shackle my curiosity, or limit
+my excursions.
+
+But marriage was a contract awful and irrevocable. Was this the woman
+with whom my reason enjoined me to blend my fate, without the power of
+dissolution? Would not time unfold qualities in her which I did not at
+present suspect, and which would evince an incurable difference in our
+minds? Would not time lead me to the feet of one who more nearly
+approached that standard of ideal excellence which poets and romancers
+had exhibited to my view?
+
+These considerations were powerful and delicate. I knew not in what
+terms to state them to my companion, so as to preclude the imputation of
+arrogance or indecorum. It became me, however, to be explicit, and to
+excite her resentment rather than mislead her judgment. She collected my
+meaning from a few words, and, interrupting me, said,--
+
+"How very low is the poor Eliza in your opinion! We are, indeed, both
+too young to be married. May I not see you, and talk with you, without
+being your wife? May I not share your knowledge, relieve your cares, and
+enjoy your confidence, as a sister might do? May I not accompany you in
+your journeys and studies, as one friend accompanies another? My
+property may be yours; you may employ it for your benefit and mine; not
+because you are my husband, but my friend. You are going to the city.
+Let me go along with you. Let me live where you live. The house that is
+large enough to hold you will hold me. The fare that is good enough for
+you will be luxury to me. Oh! let it be so, will you?
+
+"You cannot think how studious, how thoughtful, how inquisitive, I will
+be. How tenderly I will nurse you when sick! it is possible you may be
+sick, you know, and, no one in the world will be half so watchful and
+affectionate as I shall be. Will you let me?"
+
+In saying this, her earnestness gave new pathos to her voice. Insensibly
+she put her face close to mine, and, transported beyond the usual bounds
+of reserve by the charms of that picture which her fancy contemplated,
+she put her lips to my cheek, and repeated, in a melting accent, "Will
+you let me?"
+
+You, my friends, who have not seen Eliza Hadwin, cannot conceive what
+effect this entreaty was adapted to produce in me. She has surely the
+sweetest voice, the most speaking features, and most delicate symmetry,
+that ever woman possessed. Her guileless simplicity and tenderness made
+her more enchanting. To be the object of devotion to a heart so fervent
+and pure was, surely, no common privilege. Thus did she tender me
+herself; and was not the gift to be received with eagerness and
+gratitude?
+
+No. I was not so much a stranger to mankind as to acquiesce in this
+scheme. As my sister or my wife, the world would suffer us to reside
+under the same roof; to apply to common use the same property; and daily
+to enjoy the company of each other; but she was not my sister, and
+marriage would be an act of the grossest indiscretion. I explained to
+her, in few words, the objections to which her project was liable.
+
+"Well, then," said she, "let me live in the next house, in the
+neighbourhood, or, at least, in the same city. Let me be where I may see
+you once a day, or once a week, or once a month. Shut me not wholly from
+your society, and the means of becoming, in time, less ignorant and
+foolish than I now am."
+
+After a pause, I replied, "I love you too well not to comply with this
+request. Perhaps the city will be as suitable a residence as any other
+for you, as it will, for some time, be most convenient to me. I shall be
+better able to watch over your welfare, and supply you with the means of
+improvement, when you are within a small distance. At present, you must
+consent to remain here, while I visit your uncle, and afterwards go to
+the city. I shall look out for you a suitable lodging, and inform you
+when it is found. If you then continue in the same mind, I will come,
+and, having gained the approbation of Mr. Curling, will conduct you to
+town." Here ended our dialogue.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+
+Though I had consented to this scheme, I was conscious that some hazards
+attended it. I was afraid of calumny, which might trouble the peace or
+destroy the reputation of my friend. I was afraid of my own weakness,
+which might be seduced into an indiscreet marriage by the charms or
+sufferings of this bewitching creature. I felt that there was no price
+too dear to save her from slander. A fair fame is of the highest
+importance to a young female, and the loss of it but poorly supplied by
+the testimony of her own conscience. I had reason for tenfold solicitude
+on this account, since I was her only protector and friend. Hence, I
+cherished some hopes that time might change her views, and suggest less
+dangerous schemes. Meanwhile, I was to lose no time in visiting
+Malverton and Philip Hadwin.
+
+About ten days had elapsed since we had deserted Malverton. These were
+days of successive storms, and travelling had been rendered
+inconvenient. The weather was now calm and clear, and, early in the
+morning that ensued the dialogue which I have just related, I set out on
+horseback.
+
+Honest Caleb was found eating his breakfast nearly in the spot where he
+had been first discovered. He answered my inquiries by saying, that, two
+days after our departure, several men had come to the house, one of whom
+was Philip Hadwin. They had interrogated him as to the condition of the
+farm, and the purpose of his remaining on it. William Hadwin they knew
+to have been some time dead; but where were the girls, his daughters?
+
+Caleb answered that Susy, the eldest, was likewise dead.
+
+These tidings excited astonishment. When died she, and how, and where
+was she buried?
+
+It happened two days before, and she was buried, he believed, but could
+not tell where.
+
+Not tell where? By whom, then, was she buried?
+
+Really, he could not tell. Some strange man came there just as she was
+dying. He went to the room, and, when she was dead, took her away, but
+what he did with the body was more than he could say, but he had a
+notion that he buried it. The man stayed till the morning, and then went
+off with Lizzy, leaving him to keep house by himself. He had not seen
+either of them, nor, indeed, a single soul since.
+
+This was all the information that Caleb could afford the visitants. It
+was so lame and incredible that they began to charge the man with
+falsehood, and to threaten him with legal animadversion. Just then Mr.
+Ellis entered the house, and, being made acquainted with the subject of
+discourse, told all that he himself knew. He related the midnight visit
+which I had paid him, explained my former situation in the family, and
+my disappearance in September. He stated the advice he had given me to
+carry Eliza to her uncle's, and my promise to comply with his counsel.
+The uncle declared he had seen nothing of his niece, and Caleb added,
+that, when she set out, she took the road that led to town.
+
+These hints afforded grounds for much conjecture and suspicion. Ellis
+now mentioned some intelligence that he had gathered respecting me in a
+late journey to ----. It seems I was the son of an honest farmer in that
+quarter, who married a tidy girl of a milkmaid that lived with him. My
+father had detected me in making some atrocious advances to my
+mother-in-law, and had turned me out of doors. I did not go off,
+however, without rifling his drawer of some hundreds of dollars, which
+he had laid up against a rainy day. I was noted for such pranks, and was
+hated by all the neighbours for my pride and laziness. It was easy, by
+comparison of circumstances, for Ellis to ascertain that Hadwin's
+servant Mervyn was the same against whom such heavy charges were laid.
+
+Previously to this journey, he had heard of me from Hadwin, who was loud
+in praise of my diligence, sobriety, and modesty. For his part, he had
+always been cautious of giving countenance to vagrants that came from
+nobody knew where, and worked their way with a plausible tongue. He was
+not surprised to hear it whispered that Betsy Hadwin had fallen in love
+with the youth, and now, no doubt, he had persuaded her to run away with
+him. The heiress of a fine farm was a prize not to be met with every
+day.
+
+Philip broke into rage at this news; swore that if it turned out so, his
+niece should starve upon the town, and that he would take good care to
+balk the lad. His brother he well knew had left a will, to which he was
+executor, and that this will would in good time be forthcoming. After
+much talk and ransacking the house, and swearing at his truant niece, he
+and his company departed, charging Caleb to keep the house and its
+contents for his use. This was all that Caleb's memory had retained of
+that day's proceedings.
+
+Curling had lately commented on the character of Philip Hadwin. This man
+was totally unlike his brother, was a noted brawler and bully, a tyrant
+to his children, a plague to his neighbours, and kept a rendezvous for
+drunkards and idlers, at the sign of the Bull's Head, at ----. He was
+not destitute of parts, and was no less dreaded for cunning than
+malignity. He was covetous, and never missed an opportunity of
+overreaching his neighbour. There was no doubt that his niece's property
+would be embezzled should it ever come into his hands, and any power
+which he might obtain over her person would be exercised to her
+destruction. His children were tainted with the dissoluteness of their
+father, and marriage had not repaired the reputation of his daughters,
+or cured them of depravity: this was the man whom I now proposed to
+visit.
+
+I scarcely need to say that the calumny of Betty Lawrence gave me no
+uneasiness. My father had no doubt been deceived, as well as my father's
+neighbours, by the artifices of this woman. I passed among them for a
+thief and a profligate, but their error had hitherto been harmless to
+me. The time might come which should confute the tale without my
+efforts. Betty, sooner or later, would drop her mask, and afford the
+antidote to her own poisons, unless some new incident should occur to
+make me hasten the catastrophe.
+
+I arrived at Hadwin's house. I was received with some attention as a
+guest. I looked, among the pimpled visages that filled the piazza, for
+that of the landlord, but found him in an inner apartment with two or
+three more seated round a table. On intimating my wish to speak with him
+alone, the others withdrew.
+
+Hadwin's visage had some traces of resemblance to his brother; but the
+meek, placid air, pale cheeks, and slender form of the latter were
+powerfully contrasted with the bloated arrogance, imperious brow, and
+robust limbs of the former. This man's rage was awakened by a straw; it
+impelled him in an instant to oaths and buffetings, and made his life an
+eternal brawl. The sooner my interview with such a personage should be
+at an end, the better. I therefore explained the purpose of my coming as
+fully and in as few words as possible.
+
+"Your name, sir, is Philip Hadwin. Your brother William, of Malverton,
+died lately and left two daughters. The youngest only is now alive, and
+I come, commissioned from her, to inform you that, as no will of her
+father's is extant, she is preparing to administer to his estate. As her
+father's brother, she thought you entitled to this information."
+
+The change which took place in the countenance of this man, during this
+address, was remarkable, but not easily described. His cheeks contracted
+a deeper crimson, his eyes sparkled, and his face assumed an expression
+in which curiosity was mingled with rage. He bent forward, and said, in
+a hoarse and contemptuous tone, "Pray, is your name Mervyn?"
+
+I answered, without hesitation, and as if the question were wholly
+unimportant, "Yes; my name is Mervyn."
+
+"God damn it! You then are the damned rascal"--(but permit me to repeat
+his speech without the oaths with which it was plentifully interlarded.
+Not three words were uttered without being garnished with a--"God damn
+it!" "damnation!" "I'll be damned to hell if"--and the like energetic
+expletives.) "You then are the rascal that robbed Billy's house; that
+ran away with the fool his daughter; persuaded her to burn her father's
+will, and have the hellish impudence to come into this house! But I
+thank you for it. I was going to look for you; you've saved me trouble.
+I'll settle all accounts with you here. Fair and softly, my good lad! If
+I don't bring you to the gallows--If I let you escape without such a
+dressing! Damned impudence! Fellow! I've been at Malverton. I've heard
+of your tricks. So! finding the will not quite to your mind, knowing
+that the executor would balk your schemes, you threw the will into the
+fire; you robbed the house of all the cash, and made off with the
+girl!--The old fellow saw it all, and will swear to the truth."
+
+These words created some surprise. I meant not to conceal from this man
+the tenor and destruction of the will, nor even the measures which his
+niece had taken or intended to take. What I supposed to be unknown to
+him appeared to have been communicated by the talkative Caleb, whose
+mind was more inquisitive and less sluggish than first appearances had
+led me to imagine. Instead of moping by the kitchen-fire when Eliza and
+I were conversing in an upper room, it now appeared that he had
+reconnoitred our proceedings through some keyhole or crevice, and had
+related what he had seen to Hadwin.
+
+Hadwin proceeded to exhaust his rage in oaths and menaces. He frequently
+clenched his fist and thrust it in my face, drew it back as if to render
+his blow more deadly; ran over the same series of exclamations on my
+impudence and villany, and talked of the gallows and the whipping-post;
+enforced each word by the epithets _damnable_ and _hellish_; closed each
+sentence with--"and be curst to you!"
+
+There was but one mode for me to pursue; all forcible opposition to a
+man of his strength was absurd. It was my province to make his anger
+confine itself to words, and patiently to wait till the paroxysm should
+end or subside of itself. To effect this purpose, I kept my seat, and
+carefully excluded from my countenance every indication of timidity and
+panic on the one hand, and of scorn and defiance on the other. My look
+and attitude were those of a man who expected harsh words, but who
+entertained no suspicion that blows would be inflicted.
+
+I was indebted for my safety to an inflexible adherence to this medium.
+To have strayed, for a moment, to either side, would have brought upon
+me his blows. That he did not instantly resort to violence inspired me
+with courage, since it depended on myself whether food should be
+supplied to his passion. Rage must either progress or decline; and,
+since it was in total want of provocation, it could not fail of
+gradually subsiding.
+
+My demeanour was calculated to damp the flame, not only by its direct
+influence, but by diverting his attention from the wrongs which he had
+received, to the novelty of my behaviour. The disparity in size and
+strength between us was too evident to make him believe that I confided
+in my sinews for my defence; and, since I betrayed neither contempt nor
+fear, he could not but conclude that I trusted to my own integrity or to
+his moderation. I seized the first pause in his rhetoric to enforce this
+sentiment.
+
+"You are angry, Mr. Hadwin, and are loud in your threats; but they do
+not frighten me. They excite no apprehension or alarm, because I know
+myself able to convince you that I have not injured you. This is an inn,
+and I am your guest. I am sure I shall find better entertainment than
+blows. Come," continued I, smiling, "it is possible that I am not so
+mischievous a wretch as your fancy paints me. I have no claims upon your
+niece but that of friendship, and she is now in the house of an honest
+man, Mr. Curling, where she proposes to continue as long as is
+convenient.
+
+"It is true that your brother left a will, which his daughter burnt in
+my presence, because she dreaded the authority which that will gave you,
+not only over her property, but person. It is true that on leaving the
+house she took away the money which was now her own, and which was
+necessary to subsistence. It is true that I bore her company, and have
+left her in an honest man's keeping. I am answerable for nothing more.
+As to you, I meant not to injure you; I advised not the burning of the
+will. I was a stranger, till after that event, to your character. I knew
+neither good nor ill of you. I came to tell you all this, because, as
+Eliza's uncle, you had a right to the information."
+
+"So! you come to tell me that she burnt the will, and is going to
+administer--to what, I beseech you? To her father's property? Ay, I
+warrant you. But take this along with you:--that property is mine; land,
+house, stock, every thing. All is safe and snug under cover of a
+mortgage, to which Billy was kind enough to add a bond. One was sued,
+and the other _entered up_, a week ago. So that all is safe under my
+thumb, and the girl may whistle or starve for me. I shall give myself no
+concern about the strumpet. You thought to get a prize; but, damn me,
+you've met with your match in me. Phil Haddin's not so easily choused, I
+promise you. I intended to give you this news, and a drubbing into the
+bargain; but you may go, and make haste. She burnt the will, did she,
+because I was named in it,--and sent you to tell me so? Good souls! It
+was kind of you, and I am bound to be thankful. Take her back news of
+the mortgage; and, as for you, leave my house. You may go scot-free this
+time; but I pledge my word for a sound beating when you next enter these
+doors. I'll pay it to you with interest. Leave my house, I say!"
+
+"A mortgage," said I, in a low voice, and affecting not to hear his
+commands; "that will be sad news for my friend. Why, sir, you are a
+fortunate man. Malverton is an excellent spot; well watered and manured;
+newly and completely fenced; not a larger barn in the county; oxen and
+horses and cows in the best order; I never set eyes on a finer orchard.
+By my faith, sir, you are a fortunate man. But, pray, what have you for
+dinner? I am hungry as a wolf. Order me a beef-steak, and some potation
+or other. The bottle there,--it is cider, I take it; pray, push it to
+this side." Saying this, I stretched out my hand towards the bottle
+which stood before him.
+
+I confided in the power of a fearless and sedate manner. Methought
+that, as anger was the food of anger, it must unavoidably subside in a
+contest with equability. This opinion was intuitive, rather than the
+product of experience, and perhaps I gave no proof of my sagacity in
+hazarding my safety on its truth. Hadwin's character made him dreaded
+and obeyed by all. He had been accustomed to ready and tremulous
+submission from men far more brawny and robust than I was, and to find
+his most vehement menaces and gestures totally ineffectual on a being so
+slender and diminutive at once wound up his rage and excited his
+astonishment. One motion counteracted and suspended the other. He lifted
+his hand, but delayed to strike. One blow, applied with his usual
+dexterity, was sufficient to destroy me. Though seemingly careless, I
+was watchful of his motions, and prepared to elude the stroke by
+shrinking or stooping. Meanwhile, I stretched my hand far enough to
+seize the bottle, and, pouring its contents into a tumbler, put it to my
+lips:--
+
+"Come, sir, I drink your health, and wish you speedy possession of
+Malverton. I have some interest with Eliza, and will prevail on her to
+forbear all opposition and complaint. Why should she complain? While I
+live, she shall not be a beggar. No doubt your claim is legal, and
+therefore ought to be admitted. What the law gave, the law has taken
+away. Blessed be the dispensers of law! Excellent cider! open another
+bottle, will you, and, I beseech, hasten dinner, if you would not see me
+devour the table."
+
+It was just, perhaps, to conjure up the demon avarice to fight with the
+demon anger. Reason alone would, in such a contest, be powerless, but,
+in truth, I spoke without artifice or disguise. If his claim were legal,
+opposition would be absurd and pernicious. I meant not to rely upon his
+own assertions, and would not acknowledge the validity of his claim till
+I had inspected the deed. Having instituted suits, this was now in a
+public office, and there the inspection should be made. Meanwhile, no
+reason could be urged why I should part from him in anger, while his
+kindred to Eliza, and his title to her property, made it useful to
+secure his favour. It was possible to obtain a remission of his claims,
+even when the law enforced them; it would be imprudent at least to
+diminish the chances of remission by fostering his wrath and provoking
+his enmity.
+
+"What!" he exclaimed, in a transport of fury, "a'n't I master of my own
+house? Out, I say!"
+
+These were harsh terms, but they were not accompanied by gestures and
+tones so menacing as those which had before been used. It was plain that
+the tide, which so lately threatened my destruction, had begun to
+recede. This encouraged me to persist.
+
+"Be not alarmed, my good friend," said I, placidly and smiling. "A man
+of your bone need not fear a pigmy like me. I shall scarcely be able to
+dethrone you in your own castle, with an army of hostlers, tapsters, and
+cooks at your beck. You shall still be master here, provided you use
+your influence to procure me a dinner."
+
+His acquiescence in a pacific system was extremely reluctant and
+gradual. He laid aside one sullen tone and wrathful look after the
+other; and, at length, consented not only to supply me with a dinner,
+but to partake of it with me. Nothing was more a topic of surprise to
+himself than his forbearance. He knew not how it was. He had never been
+treated so before. He was not proof against entreaty and submission; but
+I had neither supplicated nor submitted. The stuff that I was made of
+was at once damnably tough and devilishly pliant. When he thought of my
+impudence, in staying in his house after he had bade me leave it, he was
+tempted to resume his passion. When he reflected on my courage, in
+making light of his anger, notwithstanding his known impetuosity and my
+personal inferiority, he could not withhold his esteem. But my patience
+under his rebukes, my unalterable equanimity, and my ready consent to
+the validity of his claims, soothed and propitiated him.
+
+An exemption from blows and abuse was all that I could gain from this
+man. I told him the truth, with regard to my own history, so far as it
+was connected with the Hadwins. I exhibited, in affecting colours, the
+helpless condition of Eliza; but could extort from him nothing but his
+consent that, if she chose, she might come and live with him. He would
+give her victuals and clothes for so much house-work as she was able to
+do. If she chose to live elsewhere, he promised not to molest her, or
+intermeddle in her concerns. The house and land were his by law, and he
+would have them.
+
+It was not my province to revile or expostulate with him. I stated what
+measures would be adopted by a man who regarded the interest of others
+more than his own; who was anxious for the welfare of an innocent girl,
+connected with him so closely by the ties of kindred, and who was
+destitute of what is called natural friends. If he did not cancel, for
+her sake, his bond and mortgage, he would, at least, afford her a frugal
+maintenance. He would extend to her, in all emergencies, his counsel and
+protection.
+
+All that, he said, was sheer nonsense. He could not sufficiently wonder
+at my folly, in proposing to him to make a free gift of a hundred rich
+acres, to a girl too who scarcely knew her right hand from her left;
+whom the first cunning young rogue like myself would _chouse_ out of the
+whole, and take herself into the bargain. But my folly was even
+surpassed by my impudence, since, as the _friend_ of this girl, I was
+merely petitioning on my own account. I had come to him, whom I never
+saw before, on whom I had no claim, and who, as I well knew, had reason
+to think me a sharper, and modestly said, "Here's a girl who has no
+fortune. I am greatly in want of one. Pray, give her such an estate that
+you have in your possession. If you do, I'll marry her, and take it into
+my own hands." I might be thankful that he did not answer such a
+petition with a horse-whipping. But if he did not give her his estate,
+he might extend to her, forsooth, his counsel and protection. "That I've
+offered to do," continued he. "She may come and live in my house, if she
+will. She may do some of the family work. I'll discharge the chambermaid
+to make room for her. Lizzy, if I remember right, has a pretty face. She
+can't have a better market for it than as chambermaid to an inn. If she
+minds her p's and q's she may make up a handsome sum at the year's end."
+
+I thought it time to break off the conference; and, my dinner being
+finished, took my leave, leaving behind me the character of _a queer
+sort of chap_. I speeded to the prothonotary's office, which was kept in
+the village, and quickly ascertained the truth of Hadwin's pretensions.
+There existed a mortgage, with bond and warrant of attorney, to so great
+an amount as would swallow up every thing at Malverton. Furnished with
+these tidings, I prepared, with a drooping heart, to return to Mr.
+Curling's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+
+This incident necessarily produced a change in my views with regard to
+my friend. Her fortune consisted of a few hundreds of dollars, which,
+frugally administered, might procure decent accommodation in the
+country. When this was consumed, she must find subsistence in tending
+the big wheel or the milk-pail, unless fortune should enable me to place
+her in a more favourable situation. This state was, in some respects,
+but little different from that in which she had spent the former part of
+her life; but, in her father's house, these employments were dignified
+by being, in some degree, voluntary, and relieved by frequent intervals
+of recreation and leisure. Now they were likely to prove irksome and
+servile, in consequence of being performed for hire and imposed by
+necessity. Equality, parental solicitudes, and sisterly endearments,
+would be wanting to lighten the yoke.
+
+These inconveniences, however, were imaginary. This was the school in
+which fortitude and independence were to be learned. Habit, and the
+purity of rural manners, would, likewise, create anew those ties which
+death had dissolved. The affections of parent and sister would be
+supplied by the fonder and more rational attachments of friendship.
+These toils were not detrimental to beauty or health. What was to be
+dreaded from them was their tendency to quench the spirit of liberal
+curiosity; to habituate the person to bodily, rather than intellectual,
+exertions; to supersede and create indifference or aversion to the only
+instruments of rational improvement, the pen and the book.
+
+This evil, however, was at some distance from Eliza. Her present abode
+was quiet and serene. Here she might enjoy domestic pleasures and
+opportunities of mental improvement for the coming twelvemonth at least.
+This period would, perhaps, be sufficient for the formation of studious
+habits. What schemes should be adopted for this end would be determined
+by the destiny to which I myself should be reserved.
+
+My path was already chalked out, and my fancy now pursued it with
+uncommon pleasure. To reside in your family; to study your profession;
+to pursue some subordinate or casual mode of industry, by which I might
+purchase leisure for medical pursuits, for social recreations, and for
+the study of mankind on your busy and thronged stage, was the scope of
+my wishes. This destiny would not hinder punctual correspondence and
+occasional visits to Eliza. Her pen might be called into action, and her
+mind be awakened by books, and every hour be made to add to her stores
+of knowledge and enlarge the bounds of her capacity.
+
+I was spiritless and gloomy when I left ----; but reflections on my
+future lot, and just views of the situation of my friend, insensibly
+restored my cheerfulness. I arrived at Mr. Curling's in the evening, and
+hastened to impart to Eliza the issue of my commission. It gave her
+uneasiness, merely as it frustrated the design, on which she had fondly
+mused, of residing in the city. She was somewhat consoled by my promises
+of being her constant correspondent and occasional visitor.
+
+Next morning I set out on my journey hither, on foot. The way was not
+long; the weather, though cold, was wholesome and serene. My spirits
+were high, and I saw nothing in the world before me but sunshine and
+prosperity. I was conscious that my happiness depended not on the
+revolutions of nature or the caprice of man. All without was, indeed,
+vicissitude and uncertainty; but within my bosom was a centre not to be
+shaken or removed. My purposes were honest and steadfast. Every sense
+was the inlet of pleasure, because it was the avenue of knowledge; and
+my soul brooded over the world to ideas, and glowed with exultation at
+the grandeur and beauty of its own creations.
+
+This felicity was too rapturous to be of long duration. I gradually
+descended from these heights; and the remembrance of past incidents,
+connected with the images of your family, to which I was returning, led
+my thoughts into a different channel. Welbeck and the unhappy girl whom
+he had betrayed; Mrs. Villars and Wallace, were recollected anew. The
+views which I had formed, for determining the fate and affording
+assistance to Clemenza, were recalled. My former resolutions with regard
+to her had been suspended by the uncertainty in which the fate of the
+Hadwins was, at that time, wrapped. Had it not become necessary wholly
+to lay aside these resolutions?
+
+That, indeed, was an irksome conclusion. No wonder that I struggled to
+repel it; that I fostered the doubt whether money was the only
+instrument of benefit; whether caution, and fortitude, and knowledge,
+were not the genuine preservatives from evil. Had I not the means in my
+hands of dispelling her fatal ignorance of Welbeck and of those with
+whom she resided? Was I not authorized, by my previous though slender
+intercourse, to seek her presence?
+
+Suppose I should enter Mrs. Villars's house, desire to be introduced to
+the lady, accost her with affectionate simplicity, and tell her the
+truth? Why be anxious to smooth the way? why deal in apologies,
+circuities, and innuendoes? All these are feeble and perverse
+refinements, unworthy of an honest purpose and an erect spirit. To
+believe her inaccessible to my visit was absurd. To wait for the
+permission of those whose interest it might be to shut out visitants was
+cowardice. This was an infringement of her liberty which equity and law
+equally condemned. By what right could she be restrained from
+intercourse with others? Doors and passages may be between her and me.
+With a purpose such as mine, no one had a right to close the one or
+obstruct the other. Away with cowardly reluctances and clownish
+scruples, and let me hasten this moment to her dwelling.
+
+Mrs. Villars is the portress of the mansion. She will probably present
+herself before me, and demand the reason of my visit. What shall I say
+to her? The truth. To falter, or equivocate, or dissemble to this woman
+would be wicked. Perhaps her character has been misunderstood and
+maligned. Can I render her a greater service than to apprize her of the
+aspersions that have rested on it, and afford her the opportunity of
+vindication? Perhaps she is indeed selfish and profligate; the betrayer
+of youth and the agent of lasciviousness. Does she not deserve to know
+the extent of her errors and the ignominy of her trade? Does she not
+merit the compassion of the good and the rebukes of the wise? To shrink
+from the task would prove me cowardly and unfirm. Thus far, at least,
+let my courage extend.
+
+Alas! Clemenza is unacquainted with my language. My thoughts cannot make
+themselves apparent but by words, and to my words she will be able to
+affix no meaning. Yet is not that a hasty decision? The version from the
+dramas of Zeno which I found in her toilet was probably hers, and proves
+her to have a speculative knowledge of our tongue. Near half a year has
+since elapsed, during which she has dwelt with talkers of English, and
+consequently could not fail to have acquired it. This conclusion is
+somewhat dubious, but experiment will give it certainty.
+
+Hitherto I had strolled along the path at a lingering pace. Time enough,
+methought, to reach your threshold between sunrise and moonlight, if my
+way had been three times longer than it was. You were the pleasing
+phantom that hovered before me and beckoned me forward. What a total
+revolution had occurred in the course of a few seconds! for thus long
+did my reasonings with regard to Clemenza and the Villars require to
+pass through my understanding, and escape, in half-muttered soliloquy,
+from my lips. My muscles trembled with eagerness, and I bounded forward
+with impetuosity. I saw nothing but a vista of catalpas, leafless,
+loaded with icicles, and terminating in four chimneys and a painted
+roof. My fancy outstripped my footsteps, and was busy in picturing faces
+and rehearsing dialogues. Presently I reached this new object of my
+pursuit, darted through the avenue, noticed that some windows of the
+house were unclosed, drew thence a hasty inference that the house was
+not without inhabitants, and knocked, quickly and loudly, for admission.
+
+Some one within crept to the door, opened it with seeming caution, and
+just far enough to allow the face to be seen. It was the timid, pale,
+and unwashed face of a girl who was readily supposed to be a servant,
+taken from a cottage, and turned into a bringer of wood and water and a
+scourer of tubs and trenches. She waited in timorous silence the
+delivery of my message. Was Mrs. Villars at home?
+
+"No; she has gone to town."
+
+Were any of her daughters within?
+
+She could not tell; she believed--she thought--which did I want? Miss
+Hetty or Miss Sally?
+
+"Let me see Miss Hetty." Saying this, I pushed gently against the door.
+The girl, half reluctant, yielded way; I entered the passage, and,
+putting my hand on the lock of a door that seemed to lead into a
+parlour,--"Is Miss Hetty in this room?"
+
+No; there was nobody there.
+
+"Go call her, then. Tell her there is one who wishes to see her on
+important business. I will wait for her coming in this room." So saying,
+I opened the door, and entered the apartment, while the girl withdrew to
+perform my message.
+
+The parlour was spacious and expensively furnished, but an air of
+negligence and disorder was everywhere visible. The carpet was wrinkled
+and unswept; a clock on the table, in a glass frame, so streaked and
+spotted with dust as scarcely to be transparent, and the index
+motionless, and pointing at four instead of nine; embers scattered on
+the marble hearth, and tongs lying on the fender with the handle in the
+ashes; a harpsichord, uncovered, one end loaded with _scores_, tumbled
+together in a heap, and the other with volumes of novels and plays, some
+on their edges, some on their backs, gaping open by the scorching of
+their covers; rent; blurred; stained; blotted; dog-eared; tables awry;
+chairs crowding each other; in short, no object but indicated the
+neglect or the ignorance of domestic neatness and economy.
+
+My leisure was employed in surveying these objects, and in listening
+for the approach of Miss Hetty. Some minutes elapsed, and no one came. A
+reason for delay was easily imagined, and I summoned patience to wait. I
+opened a book; touched the instrument; surveyed the vases on the
+mantel-tree; the figures on the hangings, and the print of Apollo and
+the Sibyl, taken from Salvator, and hung over the chimney. I eyed my own
+shape and garb in the mirror, and asked how my rustic appearance would
+be regarded by that supercilious and voluptuous being to whom I was
+about to present myself.
+
+Presently the latch of the door was softly moved: it opened, and the
+simpleton, before described, appeared. She spoke, but her voice was so
+full of hesitation, and so near a whisper, that much attention was
+needed to make out her words:--Miss Hetty was not at home; she was gone
+to town with her _mistress_.
+
+This was a tale not to be credited. How was I to act? She persisted in
+maintaining the truth of it.--"Well, then," said I, at length, "tell
+Miss Sally that I wish to speak with her. She will answer my purpose
+just as well."
+
+Miss Sally was not at home neither. She had gone to town too. They would
+not be back, she did not know when; not till night, she supposed. It was
+so indeed; none of them wasn't at home; none but she and Nanny in the
+kitchen: indeed there wasn't.
+
+"Go tell Nanny to come here; I will leave my message with her." She
+withdrew, but Nanny did not receive the summons, or thought proper not
+to obey it. All was vacant and still.
+
+My state was singular and critical. It was absurd to prolong it; but to
+leave the house with my errand unexecuted would argue imbecility and
+folly. To ascertain Clemenza's presence in this house, and to gain an
+interview, were yet in my power. Had I not boasted of my intrepidity in
+braving denials and commands when they endeavoured to obstruct my
+passage to this woman? But here were no obstacles nor prohibition.
+Suppose the girl had said truth, that the matron and her daughters were
+absent, and that Nanny and herself were the only guardians of the
+mansion. So much the better. My design will not be opposed. I have only
+to mount the stair, and go from one room to another till I find what I
+seek.
+
+There was hazard, as well as plausibility, in this scheme. I thought it
+best once more to endeavour to extort information from the girl, and
+persuade her to be my guide to whomsoever the house contained. I put my
+hand to the bell and rung a brisk peal. No one came. I passed into the
+entry, to the foot of a staircase, and to a back-window. Nobody was
+within hearing or sight.
+
+Once more I reflected on the rectitude of my intentions, on the
+possibility that the girl's assertions might be true, on the benefits of
+expedition, and of gaining access to the object of my visit without
+interruption or delay. To these considerations was added a sort of
+charm, not easily explained, and by no means justifiable, produced by
+the very temerity and hazardness accompanying this attempt. I thought,
+with scornful emotions, on the bars and hinderances which pride, and
+caprice, and delusive maxims of decorum, raise in the way of human
+intercourse. I spurned at these semblances and substitutes of honesty,
+and delighted to shake such fetters into air and trample such
+impediments to dust. I wanted to see a human being, in order to promote
+her happiness. It was doubtful whether she was within twenty paces of
+the spot where I stood. The doubt was to be solved. How? By examining
+the space. I forthwith proceeded to examine it. I reached the second
+story. I approached a door that was closed. I knocked. After a pause, a
+soft voice said, "Who is there?"
+
+The accents were as musical as those of Clemenza, but were in other
+respects different. I had no topic to discuss with this person. I
+answered not, yet hesitated to withdraw. Presently the same voice was
+again heard:--"What is it you want? Why don't you answer? Come in!" I
+complied with the command, and entered the room.
+
+It was deliberation and foresight that led me hither, and not chance or
+caprice. Hence, instead of being disconcerted or vanquished by the
+objects that I saw, I was tranquil and firm. My curiosity, however, made
+me a vigilant observer. Two females, arrayed with voluptuous negligence,
+in a manner adapted to the utmost seclusion, and seated in a careless
+attitude on a sofa, were now discovered.
+
+Both darted glances at the door. One, who appeared to be the youngest,
+no sooner saw me, than she shrieked, and, starting from her seat,
+betrayed in the looks which she successively cast upon me, on herself,
+and on the chamber, whose apparatus was in no less confusion than that
+of the apartment below, her consciousness of the unseasonableness of
+this meeting.
+
+The other shrieked likewise, but in her it seemed to be the token of
+surprise rather than that of terror. There was, probably, somewhat in my
+aspect and garb that suggested an apology for this intrusion, as arising
+from simplicity and mistake. She thought proper, however, to assume the
+air of one offended, and, looking sternly,--"How now, fellow," said she,
+"what is this? Why come you hither?"
+
+This questioner was of mature age, but had not passed the period of
+attractiveness and grace. All the beauty that nature had bestowed was
+still retained, but the portion had never been great. What she possessed
+was so modelled and embellished by such a carriage and dress as to give
+it most power over the senses of the gazer. In proportion, however, as
+it was intended and adapted to captivate those who know none but
+physical pleasures, it was qualified to breed distaste and aversion in
+me.
+
+I am sensible how much error may have lurked in this decision. I had
+brought with me the belief of their being unchaste; and seized, perhaps
+with too much avidity, any appearance that coincided with my
+prepossessions. Yet the younger by no means inspired the same disgust;
+though I had no reason to suppose her more unblemished than the elder.
+Her modesty seemed unaffected, and was by no means satisfied, like that
+of the elder, with defeating future curiosity. The consciousness of what
+had already been exposed filled her with confusion, and she would have
+flown away, if her companion had not detained her by some degree of
+force. "What ails the girl? There's nothing to be frightened at.
+Fellow!" she repeated, "what brings you here?"
+
+I advanced and stood before them. I looked steadfastly, but, I believe,
+with neither effrontery nor anger, on the one who addressed me. I spoke
+in a tone serious and emphatical. "I come for the sake of speaking to a
+woman who formerly resided in this house, and probably resides here
+still. Her name is Clemenza Lodi. If she be here, I request you to
+conduct me to her instantly."
+
+Methought I perceived some inquietude, a less imperious and more
+inquisitive air, in this woman, on hearing the name of Clemenza. It was
+momentary, and gave way to peremptory looks. "What is your business with
+her? And why did you adopt this mode of inquiry? A very extraordinary
+intrusion! Be good enough to leave the chamber. Any questions proper to
+be answered will be answered below."
+
+"I meant not to intrude or offend. It was not an idle or impertinent
+motive that led me hither. I waited below for some time after soliciting
+an audience of you through the servant. She assured me you were absent,
+and laid me under the necessity of searching for Clemenza Lodi myself,
+and without a guide. I am anxious to withdraw, and request merely to be
+directed to the room which she occupies."
+
+"I direct you," replied she, in a more resolute tone, "to quit the room
+and the house."
+
+"Impossible, madam," I replied, still looking at her earnestly; "leave
+the house without seeing her! You might as well enjoin me to pull the
+Andes on my head!--to walk barefoot to Pekin! Impossible!"
+
+Some solicitude was now mingled with her anger. "This is strange
+insolence! unaccountable behaviour!--begone from my room! will you
+compel me to call the gentlemen?"
+
+"Be not alarmed," said I, with augmented mildness. There was, indeed,
+compassion and sorrow at my heart, and these must have somewhat
+influenced my looks. "Be not alarmed. I came to confer a benefit, not to
+perpetrate an injury. I came not to censure or expostulate with you,
+but merely to counsel and aid a being that needs both; all I want is to
+see her. In this chamber I sought not you, but her. Only lead me to her,
+or tell me where she is. I will then rid you of my presence."
+
+"Will you compel me to call those who will punish this insolence as it
+deserves?"
+
+"Dearest madam! I compel you to nothing. I merely supplicate. I would
+ask you to lead me to these gentlemen, if I did not know that there are
+none but females in the house. It is you who must receive and comply
+with my petition. Allow me a moment's interview with Clemenza Lodi.
+Compliance will harm you not, but will benefit her. What is your
+objection?"
+
+"This is the strangest proceeding! the most singular conduct! Is this a
+place fit to parley with you? I warn you of the consequence of staying a
+moment longer. Depend upon it, you will sorely repent it."
+
+"You are obdurate," said I, and turned towards the younger, who listened
+to this discourse in tremors and panic. I took her hand with an air of
+humility and reverence. "Here," said I, "there seems to be purity,
+innocence, and condescension. I took this house to be the temple of
+voluptuousness. Females I expected to find in it, but such only as
+traded in licentious pleasures; specious, perhaps not destitute of
+talents, beauty, and address, but dissolute and wanton, sensual and
+avaricious; yet in this countenance and carriage there are tokens of
+virtue. I am born to be deceived, and the semblance of modesty is
+readily assumed. Under this veil, perhaps, lurk a tainted heart and
+depraved appetites. Is it so?"
+
+She made me no answer, but somewhat in her looks seemed to evince that
+my favourable prepossessions were just. I noticed likewise that the
+alarm of the elder was greatly increased by this address to her
+companion. The thought suddenly occurred that this girl might be in
+circumstances not unlike those of Clemenza Lodi; that she was not
+apprized of the character of her associates, and might by this meeting
+be rescued from similar evils.
+
+This suspicion filled me with tumultuous feelings. Clemenza was for a
+time forgotten. I paid no attention to the looks or demeanour of the
+elder, but was wholly occupied in gazing on the younger. My anxiety to
+know the truth gave pathos and energy to my tones while I spoke:--
+
+"Who, where, what are you? Do you reside in this house? Are you a sister
+or daughter in this family, or merely a visitant? Do you know the
+character, profession, and views of your companions? Do you deem them
+virtuous, or know them to be profligate? Speak! tell me, I beseech you!"
+
+The maiden confusion which had just appeared in the countenance of this
+person now somewhat abated. She lifted her eyes, and glanced by turns at
+me and at her who sat by her side. An air of serious astonishment
+overspread her features, and she seemed anxious for me to proceed. The
+elder, meanwhile, betrayed the utmost alarm, again upbraided my
+audacity, commanded me to withdraw, and admonished me of the danger I
+incurred by lingering.
+
+I noticed not her interference, but again entreated to know of the
+younger her true state. She had no time to answer me, supposing her not
+to want the inclination, for every pause was filled by the clamorous
+importunities and menaces of the other. I began to perceive that my
+attempts were useless to this end, but the chief and most estimable
+purpose was attainable. It was in my power to state the knowledge I
+possessed, through your means, of Mrs. Villars and her daughters. This
+information might be superfluous, since she to whom it was given might
+be one of this licentious family. The contrary, however, was not
+improbable, and my tidings, therefore, might be of the utmost moment to
+her safety.
+
+A resolute and even impetuous manner reduced my incessant interrupter to
+silence. What I had to say, I compressed in a few words, and adhered to
+perspicuity and candour with the utmost care. I still held the hand that
+I had taken, and fixed my eyes upon her countenance with a steadfastness
+that hindered her from lifting her eyes.
+
+"I know you not; whether you be dissolute or chaste, I cannot tell. In
+either case, however, what I am going to say will be useful. Let me
+faithfully repeat what I have heard. It is mere rumour, and I vouch not
+for its truth. Rumour as it is, I submit it to your judgment, and hope
+that it may guide you into paths of innocence and honour.
+
+"Mrs. Villars and her three daughters are Englishwomen, who supported
+for a time an unblemished reputation, but who, at length, were suspected
+of carrying on the trade of prostitution. This secret could not be
+concealed forever. The profligates who frequented their house betrayed
+them. One of them, who died under their roof, after they had withdrawn
+from it into the country, disclosed to his kinsman, who attended his
+death-bed, their genuine character.
+
+"The dying man likewise related incidents in which I am deeply
+concerned. I have been connected with one by name Welbeck. In his house
+I met an unfortunate girl, who was afterwards removed to Mrs. Villars's.
+Her name was Clemenza Lodi. Residence in this house, under the control
+of a woman like Mrs. Villars and her daughters, must be injurious to her
+innocence, and from this control I now come to rescue her."
+
+I turned to the elder, and continued,--"By all that is sacred, I adjure
+you to tell me whether Clemenza Lodi be under this roof! If she be not,
+whither has she gone? To know this I came hither, and any difficulty or
+reluctance in answering will be useless; till an answer be obtained, I
+will not go hence."
+
+During this speech, anger had been kindling in the bosom of this woman.
+It now burst upon me in a torrent of opprobrious epithets. I was a
+villain, a calumniator, a thief. I had lurked about the house, till
+those whose sex and strength enabled them to cope with me had gone. I
+had entered these doors by fraud. I was a wretch, guilty of the last
+excesses of insolence and insult.
+
+To repel these reproaches, or endure them, was equally useless. The
+satisfaction that I sought was only to be gained by searching the house.
+I left the room without speaking. Did I act illegally in passing from
+one story and one room to another? Did I really deserve the imputations
+of rashness and insolence? My behaviour, I well know, was ambiguous and
+hazardous, and perhaps wanting in discretion, but my motives were
+unquestionably pure. I aimed at nothing but the rescue of a human
+creature from distress and dishonour.
+
+I pretend not to the wisdom of experience and age; to the praise of
+forethought or subtlety. I choose the obvious path, and pursue it with
+headlong expedition. Good intentions, unaided by knowledge, will,
+perhaps, produce more injury than benefit, and therefore knowledge must
+be gained, but the acquisition is not momentary; is not bestowed unasked
+and untoiled for. Meanwhile, we must not be inactive because we are
+ignorant. Our good purposes must hurry to performance, whether our
+knowledge be greater or less.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+
+To explore the house in this manner was so contrary to ordinary rules,
+that the design was probably wholly unsuspected by the women whom I had
+just left. My silence, at parting, might have been ascribed by them to
+the intimidating influence of invectives and threats. Hence I proceeded
+in my search without interruption.
+
+Presently I reached a front chamber in the third story. The door was
+ajar. I entered it on tiptoe. Sitting on a low chair by the fire, I
+beheld a female figure, dressed in a negligent but not indecent manner.
+Her face, in the posture in which she sat, was only half seen. Its hues
+were sickly and pale, and in mournful unison with a feeble and emaciated
+form. Her eyes were fixed upon a babe that lay stretched upon a pillow
+at her feet. The child, like its mother, for such she was readily
+imagined to be, was meagre and cadaverous. Either it was dead, or could
+not be very distant from death.
+
+The features of Clemenza were easily recognised, though no contrast
+could be greater, in habit and shape and complexion, than that which her
+present bore to her former appearance. All her roses had faded, and her
+brilliancies vanished. Still, however, there was somewhat fitted to
+awaken the tenderest emotions. There were tokens of inconsolable
+distress.
+
+Her attention was wholly absorbed by the child. She lifted not her eyes
+till I came close to her and stood before her. When she discovered me, a
+faint start was perceived. She looked at me for a moment, then, putting
+one spread hand before her eyes, she stretched out the other towards the
+door, and waving it in silence, as if to admonish me to depart.
+
+This motion, however emphatical, I could not obey. I wished to obtain
+her attention, but knew not in what words to claim it. I was silent. In
+a moment she removed her hand from her eyes, and looked at me with new
+eagerness. Her features bespoke emotions which, perhaps, flowed from my
+likeness to her brother, joined with the memory of my connection with
+Welbeck.
+
+My situation was full of embarrassment. I was by no means certain that
+my language would be understood. I knew not in what light the policy and
+dissimulation of Welbeck might have taught her to regard me. What
+proposal, conducive to her comfort and her safety, could I make to her?
+
+Once more she covered her eyes, and exclaimed, in a feeble voice, "Go
+away! begone!"
+
+As if satisfied with this effort, she resumed her attention to her
+child. She stooped and lifted it in her arms, gazing, meanwhile, on its
+almost lifeless features with intense anxiety. She crushed it to her
+bosom, and, again looking at me, repeated, "Go away! go away! begone!"
+
+There was somewhat in the lines of her face, in her tones and gestures,
+that pierced to my heart. Added to this, was my knowledge of her
+condition; her friendlessness; her poverty; the pangs of unrequited
+love; and her expiring infant. I felt my utterance choked, and my tears
+struggling for passage. I turned to the window, and endeavoured to
+regain my tranquillity.
+
+"What was it," said I, "that brought me hither? The perfidy of Welbeck
+must surely have long since been discovered. What can I tell her of the
+Villars which she does not already know, or of which the knowledge will
+be useful? If their treatment has been just, why should I detract from
+their merit? If it has been otherwise, their own conduct will have
+disclosed their genuine character. Though voluptuous themselves, it does
+not follow that they have laboured to debase this creature. Though
+wanton, they may not be inhuman.
+
+"I can propose no change in her condition for the better. Should she be
+willing to leave this house, whither is it in my power to conduct her?
+Oh that I were rich enough to provide food for the hungry, shelter for
+the houseless, and raiment for the naked!"
+
+I was roused from these fruitless reflections by the lady, whom some
+sudden thought induced to place the child in its bed, and, rising, to
+come towards me. The utter dejection which her features lately betrayed
+was now changed for an air of anxious curiosity. "Where," said she, in
+her broken English,--"where is Signor Welbeck?"
+
+"Alas!" returned I, "I know not. That question might, I thought, with
+more propriety be put to you than me."
+
+"I know where he be; I fear where he be."
+
+So saying, the deepest sighs burst from her heart. She turned from me,
+and, going to the child, took it again into her lap. Its pale and sunken
+cheek was quickly wet with the mother's tears, which, as she silently
+hung over it, dropped fast from her eyes.
+
+This demeanour could not but awaken curiosity, while it gave a new turn
+to my thoughts. I began to suspect that in the tokens which I saw there
+was not only distress for her child, but concern for the fate of
+Welbeck. "Know you," said I, "where Mr. Welbeck is? Is he alive? Is he
+near? Is he in calamity?"
+
+"I do not know if he be alive. He be sick. He be in prison. They will
+not let me go to him. And"--here her attention and mine was attracted by
+the infant, whose frame, till now motionless, began to be tremulous. Its
+features sunk into a more ghastly expression. Its breathings were
+difficult, and every effort to respire produced a convulsion harder than
+the last.
+
+The mother easily interpreted these tokens. The same mortal struggle
+seemed to take place in her features as in those of her child. At length
+her agony found way in a piercing shriek. The struggle in the infant was
+past. Hope looked in vain for a new motion in its heart or its eyelids.
+The lips were closed, and its breath was gone forever!
+
+The grief which overwhelmed the unhappy parent was of that outrageous
+and desperate kind which is wholly incompatible with thinking. A few
+incoherent motions and screams, that rent the soul, were followed by a
+deep swoon. She sunk upon the floor, pale and lifeless as her babe.
+
+I need not describe the pangs which such a scene was adapted to produce
+in me. These were rendered more acute by the helpless and ambiguous
+situation in which I was placed. I was eager to bestow consolation and
+succour, but was destitute of all means. I was plunged into
+uncertainties and doubts. I gazed alternately at the infant and its
+mother. I sighed. I wept. I even sobbed. I stooped down and took the
+lifeless hand of the sufferer. I bathed it with my tears, and exclaimed,
+"Ill-fated woman! unhappy mother! what shall I do for thy relief? How
+shall I blunt the edge of this calamity, and rescue thee from new
+evils?"
+
+At this moment the door of the apartment was opened, and the younger of
+the women whom I had seen below entered. Her looks betrayed the deepest
+consternation and anxiety. Her eyes in a moment were fixed by the
+decayed form and the sad features of Clemenza. She shuddered at this
+spectacle, but was silent. She stood in the midst of the floor,
+fluctuating and bewildered. I dropped the hand that I was holding, and
+approached her.
+
+"You have come," said I, "in good season. I know you not, but will
+believe you to be good. You have a heart, it may be, not free from
+corruption, but it is still capable of pity for the miseries of others.
+You have a hand that refuses not its aid to the unhappy. See; there is
+an infant dead. There is a mother whom grief has, for a time, deprived
+of life. She has been oppressed and betrayed; been robbed of property
+and reputation--but not of innocence. She is worthy of relief. Have you
+arms to receive her? Have you sympathy, protection, and a home to bestow
+upon a forlorn, betrayed, and unhappy stranger? I know not what this
+house is; I suspect it to be no better than a brothel. I know not what
+treatment this woman has received. When her situation and wants are
+ascertained, will you supply her wants? Will you rescue her from evils
+that may attend her continuance here?"
+
+She was disconcerted and bewildered by this address. At length she
+said, "All that has happened, all that I have heard and seen, is so
+unexpected, so strange, that I am amazed and distracted. Your behaviour
+I cannot comprehend, nor your motive for making this address to me. I
+cannot answer you, except in one respect. If this woman has suffered
+injury, I have had no part in it. I knew not of her existence nor her
+situation till this moment; and whatever protection or assistance she
+may justly claim, I am both able and willing to bestow. I do not live
+here, but in the city. I am only an occasional visitant in this house."
+
+"What, then!" I exclaimed, with sparkling eyes and a rapturous accent,
+"you are not profligate; are a stranger to the manners of this house,
+and a detester of these manners? Be not a deceiver, I entreat you. I
+depend only on your looks and professions, and these may be dissembled."
+
+These questions, which indeed argued a childish simplicity, excited her
+surprise. She looked at me, uncertain whether I was in earnest or in
+jest. At length she said, "Your language is so singular, that I am at a
+loss how to answer it. I shall take no pains to find out its meaning,
+but leave you to form conjectures at leisure. Who is this woman, and how
+can I serve her?" After a pause, she continued:--"I cannot afford her
+any immediate assistance, and shall not stay a moment longer in this
+house. There" (putting a card in my hand) "is my name and place of
+abode. If you shall have any proposals to make, respecting this woman, I
+shall be ready to receive them in my own house." So saying, she
+withdrew.
+
+I looked wistfully after her, but could not but assent to her assertion,
+that her presence here would be more injurious to her than beneficial to
+Clemenza. She had scarcely gone, when the elder woman entered. There was
+rage, sullenness, and disappointment in her aspect. These, however, were
+suspended by the situation in which she discovered the mother and child.
+It was plain that all the sentiments of woman were not extinguished in
+her heart. She summoned the servants and seemed preparing to take such
+measures as the occasion prescribed. I now saw the folly of supposing
+that these measures would be neglected, and that my presence could not
+essentially contribute to the benefit of the sufferer. Still, however, I
+lingered in the room, till the infant was covered with a cloth, and the
+still senseless parent was conveyed into an adjoining chamber. The woman
+then, as if she had not seen me before, fixed scowling eyes upon me, and
+exclaimed, "Thief! villain! why do you stay here?"
+
+"I mean to go," said I, "but not till I express my gratitude and
+pleasure at the sight of your attention to this sufferer. You deem me
+insolent and perverse, but I am not such; and hope that the day will
+come when I shall convince you of my good intentions."
+
+"Begone!" interrupted she, in a more angry tone. "Begone this moment, or
+I will treat you as a thief." She now drew forth her hand from under her
+gown, and showed a pistol. "You shall see," she continued, "that I will
+not be insulted with impunity. If you do not vanish, I will shoot you as
+a robber."
+
+This woman was far from wanting a force and intrepidity worthy of a
+different sex. Her gestures and tones were full of energy. They denoted
+a haughty and indignant spirit. It was plain that she conceived herself
+deeply injured by my conduct; and was it absolutely certain that her
+anger was without reason? I had loaded her house with atrocious
+imputations, and these imputations might be false. I had conceived them
+upon such evidence as chance had provided; but this evidence, intricate
+and dubious as human actions and motives are, might be void of truth.
+
+"Perhaps," said I, in a sedate tone, "I have injured you; I have
+mistaken your character. You shall not find me less ready to repair,
+than to perpetrate, this injury. My error was without malice, and----"
+
+I had not time to finish the sentence, when this rash and enraged woman
+thrust the pistol close to my head and fired it. I was wholly unaware
+that her fury would lead her to this excess. It was a sort of mechanical
+impulse that made me raise my hand and attempt to turn aside the
+weapon. I did this deliberately and tranquilly, and without conceiving
+that any thing more was intended by her movement than to intimidate me.
+To this precaution, however, I was indebted for life. The bullet was
+diverted from my forehead to my left ear, and made a slight wound upon
+the surface, from which the blood gushed in a stream.
+
+The loudness of this explosion, and the shock which the ball produced in
+my brain, sunk me into a momentary stupor. I reeled backward, and should
+have fallen, had not I supported myself against the wall. The sight of
+my blood instantly restored her reason. Her rage disappeared, and was
+succeeded by terror and remorse. She clasped her hands, and exclaimed,
+"Oh! what! what have I done? My frantic passion has destroyed me."
+
+I needed no long time to show me the full extent of the injury which I
+had suffered and the conduct which it became me to adopt. For a moment I
+was bewildered and alarmed, but presently perceived that this was an
+incident more productive of good than of evil. It would teach me caution
+in contending with the passions of another, and showed me that there is
+a limit which the impetuosities of anger will sometimes overstep.
+Instead of reviling my companion, I addressed myself to her thus:--
+
+"Be not frighted. You have done me no injury, and, I hope, will derive
+instruction from this event. Your rashness had like to have sacrificed
+the life of one who is your friend, and to have exposed yourself to
+infamy and death, or, at least, to the pangs of eternal remorse. Learn
+from hence to curb your passions, and especially to keep at a distance
+from every murderous weapon, on occasions when rage is likely to take
+place of reason.
+
+"I repeat that my motives in entering this house were connected with
+your happiness as well as that of Clemenza Lodi. If I have erred in
+supposing you the member of a vile and pernicious trade, that error was
+worthy of being rectified, but violence and invective tend only to
+confirm it. I am incapable of any purpose that is not beneficent; but,
+in the means that I use and in the evidence on which I proceed, I am
+liable to a thousand mistakes. Point out to me the road by which I can
+do you good, and I will cheerfully pursue it."
+
+Finding that her fears had been groundless as to the consequences of her
+rashness, she renewed, though with less vehemence than before, her
+imprecations on my intermeddling and audacious folly. I listened till
+the storm was nearly exhausted, and then, declaring my intention to
+revisit the house if the interest of Clemenza should require it, I
+resumed my way to the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+
+"Why," said I, as I hasted forward, "is my fortune so abundant in
+unforeseen occurrences? Is every man who leaves his cottage and the
+impressions of his infancy behind him ushered into such a world of
+revolutions and perils as have trammelled my steps? or is my scene
+indebted for variety and change to my propensity to look into other
+people's concerns, and to make their sorrows and their joys mine?
+
+"To indulge an adventurous spirit, I left the precincts of the
+barn-door, enlisted in the service of a stranger, and encountered a
+thousand dangers to my virtue under the disastrous influence of Welbeck.
+Afterwards my life was set at hazard in the cause of Wallace, and now am
+I loaded with the province of protecting the helpless Eliza Hadwin and
+the unfortunate Clemenza. My wishes are fervent, and my powers shall not
+be inactive in their defence; but how slender are these powers!
+
+"In the offers of the unknown lady there is, indeed, some consolation
+for Clemenza. It must be my business to lay before my friend Stevens the
+particulars of what has befallen me, and to entreat his directions how
+this disconsolate girl may be most effectually succoured. It may be wise
+to take her from her present abode, and place her under some chaste and
+humane guardianship, where she may gradually lose remembrance of her
+dead infant and her specious betrayer. The barrier that severs her from
+Welbeck must be high as heaven and insuperable as necessity.
+
+"But, soft! Talked she not of Welbeck? Said she not that he was in
+prison and was sick? Poor wretch! I thought thy course was at an end;
+that the penalty of guilt no longer weighed down thy heart; that thy
+misdeeds and thy remorses were buried in a common and obscure grave; but
+it seems thou art still alive.
+
+"Is it rational to cherish the hope of thy restoration to innocence and
+peace? Thou art no obdurate criminal; hadst thou less virtue, thy
+compunctions would be less keen. Wert thou deaf to the voice of duty,
+thy wanderings into guilt and folly would be less fertile of anguish.
+The time will perhaps come, when the measure of thy transgressions and
+calamities will overflow, and the folly of thy choice will be too
+conspicuous to escape thy discernment. Surely, even for such
+transgressors as thou, there is a salutary power in the precepts of
+truth and the lessons of experience.
+
+"But thou art imprisoned and art sick. This, perhaps, is the crisis of
+thy destiny. Indigence and dishonour were the evils to shun which thy
+integrity and peace of mind have been lightly forfeited. Thou hast found
+that the price was given in vain; that the hollow and deceitful
+enjoyments of opulence and dignity were not worth the purchase; and
+that, frivolous and unsubstantial as they are, the only path that leads
+to them is that of honesty and diligence. Thou art in prison and art
+sick; and there is none to cheer thy hour with offices of kindness, or
+uphold thy fainting courage by the suggestions of good counsel. For such
+as thou the world has no compassion. Mankind will pursue thee to the
+grave with execrations. Their cruelty will be justified or palliated,
+since they know thee not. They are unacquainted with the goadings of thy
+conscience and the bitter retributions which thou art daily suffering.
+They are full of their own wrongs, and think only of those tokens of
+exultation and complacency which thou wast studious of assuming in thy
+intercourse with them. It is I only that thoroughly know thee and can
+rightly estimate thy claims to compassion.
+
+"I have somewhat partaken of thy kindness, and thou meritest some
+gratitude at my hands. Shall I not visit and endeavour to console thee
+in thy distress? Let me, at least, ascertain thy condition, and be the
+instrument in repairing the wrongs which thou hast inflicted. Let me
+gain, from the contemplation of thy misery, new motives to sincerity and
+rectitude."
+
+While occupied by these reflections, I entered the city. The thoughts
+which engrossed my mind related to Welbeck. It is not my custom to defer
+till to-morrow what can be done to-day. The destiny of man frequently
+hangs upon the lapse of a minute. "I will stop," said I, "at the prison;
+and, since the moment of my arrival may not be indifferent, I will go
+thither with all possible haste." I did not content myself with walking,
+but, regardless of the comments of passengers, hurried along the way at
+full speed.
+
+Having inquired for Welbeck, I was conducted through a dark room,
+crowded with beds, to a staircase. Never before had I been in a prison.
+Never had I smelt so noisome an odour, or surveyed faces so begrimed
+with filth and misery. The walls and floors were alike squalid and
+detestable. It seemed that in this house existence would be bereaved of
+all its attractions; and yet those faces, which could be seen through
+the obscurity that encompassed them, were either void of care or
+distorted with mirth.
+
+"This," said I, as I followed my conductor, "is the residence of
+Welbeck. What contrasts are these to the repose and splendour, pictured
+walls, glossy hangings, gilded sofas, mirrors that occupied from ceiling
+to floor, carpets of Tauris, and the spotless and transcendent
+brilliancy of coverlets and napkins, in thy former dwelling! Here
+brawling and the shuffling of rude feet are eternal. The air is loaded
+with the exhalations of disease and the fumes of debauchery. Thou art
+cooped up in airless space, and, perhaps, compelled to share thy narrow
+cell with some stupid ruffian. Formerly, the breezes were courted by thy
+lofty windows. Aromatic shrubs were scattered on thy hearth. Menials,
+splendid in apparel, showed their faces with diffidence in thy
+apartment, trod lightly on thy marble floor, and suffered not the
+sanctity of silence to be troubled by a whisper. Thy lamp shot its rays
+through the transparency of alabaster, and thy fragrant lymph flowed
+from vases of porcelain. Such were formerly the decorations of thy
+hall, the embellishments of thy existence; but now--alas!----"
+
+We reached a chamber in the second story. My conductor knocked at the
+door. No one answered. Repeated knocks were unheard or unnoticed by the
+person within. At length, lifting a latch, we entered together.
+
+The prisoner lay upon the bed, with his face turned from the door. I
+advanced softly, making a sign to the keeper to withdraw. Welbeck was
+not asleep, but merely buried in reverie. I was unwilling to disturb his
+musing, and stood with my eyes fixed upon his form. He appeared
+unconscious that any one had entered.
+
+At length, uttering a deep sigh, he changed his posture, and perceived
+me in my motionless and gazing attitude. Recollect in what circumstances
+we had last parted. Welbeck had, no doubt, carried away with him from
+that interview a firm belief that I should speedily die. His prognostic,
+however, was fated to be contradicted.
+
+His first emotions were those of surprise. These gave place to
+mortification and rage. After eyeing me for some time, he averted his
+glances, and that effort which is made to dissipate some obstacle to
+breathing showed me that his sensations were of the most excruciating
+kind. He laid his head upon the pillow, and sunk into his former musing.
+He disdained, or was unable, to utter a syllable of welcome or contempt.
+
+In the opportunity that had been afforded me to view his countenance, I
+had observed tokens of a kind very different from those which used to be
+visible. The gloomy and malignant were more conspicuous. Health had
+forsaken his cheeks, and taken along with it those flexible parts which
+formerly enabled him to cover his secret torments and insidious purposes
+beneath a veil of benevolence and cheerfulness. "Alas!" said I, loud
+enough for him to hear me, "here is a monument of ruin. Despair and
+mischievous passions are too deeply rooted in this heart for me to tear
+them away."
+
+These expressions did not escape his notice. He turned once more and
+cast sullen looks upon me. There was somewhat in his eyes that made me
+shudder. They denoted that his reverie was not that of grief, but of
+madness. I continued, in a less steadfast voice than before:--
+
+"Unhappy Clemenza! I have performed thy message. I have visited him that
+is sick and in prison. Thou hadst cause for anguish and terror, even
+greater cause than thou imaginedst. Would to God that thou wouldst be
+contented with the report which I shall make; that thy misguided
+tenderness would consent to leave him to his destiny, would suffer him
+to die alone; but that is a forbearance which no eloquence that I
+possess will induce thee to practise. Thou must come, and witness for
+thyself."
+
+In speaking thus, I was far from foreseeing the effects which would be
+produced on the mind of Welbeck. I was far from intending to instil into
+him a belief that Clemenza was near at hand, and was preparing to enter
+his apartment; yet no other images but these would, perhaps, have roused
+him from his lethargy, and awakened that attention which I wished to
+awaken. He started up, and gazed fearfully at the door.
+
+"What!" he cried. "What! Is she here? Ye powers, that have scattered
+woes in my path, spare me the sight of her! But from this agony I will
+rescue myself. The moment she appears I will pluck out these eyes and
+dash them at her feet."
+
+So saying, he gazed with augmented eagerness upon the door. His hands
+were lifted to his head, as if ready to execute his frantic purpose. I
+seized his arm and besought him to lay aside his terror, for that
+Clemenza was far distant. She had no intention, and besides was unable,
+to visit him.
+
+"Then I am respited. I breathe again. No; keep her from a prison. Drag
+her to the wheel or to the scaffold; mangle her with stripes; torture
+her with famine; strangle her child before her face, and cast it to the
+hungry dogs that are howling at the gate; but--keep her from a prison.
+Never let her enter these doors." There he stopped; his eyes being fixed
+on the floor, and his thoughts once more buried in reverie. I
+resumed:--
+
+"She is occupied with other griefs than those connected with the fate of
+Welbeck. She is not unmindful of you; she knows you to be sick and in
+prison; and I came to do for you whatever office your condition might
+require, and I came at her suggestion. She, alas! has full employment
+for her tears in watering the grave of her child."
+
+He started. "What! dead? Say you that the child is dead?"
+
+"It is dead. I witnessed its death. I saw it expire in the arms of its
+mother; that mother whom I formerly met under your roof blooming and
+gay, but whom calamity has tarnished and withered. I saw her in the
+raiment of poverty, under an accursed roof: desolate; alone; unsolaced
+by the countenance or sympathy of human beings; approached only by those
+who mock at her distress, set snares for her innocence, and push her to
+infamy. I saw her leaning over the face of her dying babe."
+
+Welbeck put his hands to his head, and exclaimed, "Curses on thy lips,
+infernal messenger! Chant elsewhere thy rueful ditty! Vanish! if thou
+wouldst not feel in thy heart fangs red with blood less guilty than
+thine."
+
+Till this moment the uproar in Welbeck's mind appeared to hinder him
+from distinctly recognising his visitant. Now it seemed as if the
+incidents of our last interview suddenly sprung up in his remembrance.
+
+"What! This is the villain that rifled my cabinet, the maker of my
+poverty and of all the evils which it has since engendered! That has led
+me to a prison! Execrable fool! you are the author of the scene that you
+describe, and of horrors without number and name. To whatever crimes I
+have been urged since that interview, and the fit of madness that made
+you destroy my property, they spring from your act; they flowed from
+necessity, which, had you held your hand at that fateful moment, would
+never have existed.
+
+"How dare you thrust yourself upon my privacy? Why am I not alone? Fly!
+and let my miseries want, at least, the aggravation of beholding their
+author. My eyes loathe the sight of thee! My heart would suffocate thee
+with its own bitterness! Begone!"
+
+"I know not," I answered, "why innocence should tremble at the ravings
+of a lunatic; why it should be overwhelmed by unmerited reproaches! Why
+it should not deplore the errors of its foe, labour to correct those
+errors, and----"
+
+"Thank thy fate, youth, that my hands are tied up by my scorn; thank thy
+fate that no weapon is within reach. Much has passed since I saw thee,
+and I am a new man. I am no longer inconstant and cowardly. I have no
+motives but contempt to hinder me from expiating the wrongs which thou
+hast done me in thy blood. I disdain to take thy life. Go; and let thy
+fidelity, at least, to the confidence which I have placed in thee, be
+inviolate. Thou hast done me harm enough, but canst do, if thou wilt,
+still more. Thou canst betray the secrets that are lodged in thy bosom,
+and rob me of the comfort of reflecting that my guilt is known but to
+one among the living."
+
+This suggestion made me pause, and look back upon the past. I had
+confided this man's tale to you. The secrecy on which he so fondly
+leaned was at an end. Had I acted culpably or not?
+
+But why should I ruminate, with anguish and doubt, upon the past? The
+future was within my power, and the road of my duty was too plain to be
+mistaken. I would disclose to Welbeck the truth, and cheerfully
+encounter every consequence. I would summon my friend to my aid, and
+take his counsel in the critical emergency in which I was placed. I
+ought not to rely upon myself alone in my efforts to benefit this being,
+when another was so near whose discernment and benevolence, and
+knowledge of mankind, and power of affording relief, were far superior
+to mine.
+
+Influenced by these thoughts, I left the apartment without speaking;
+and, procuring pen and paper, despatched to you the billet which brought
+about our meeting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+
+Mervyn's auditors allowed no pause in their attention to this story.
+Having ended, a deep silence took place. The clock which stood upon the
+mantel had sounded twice the customary _larum_, but had not been heard
+by us. It was now struck a third time. It was _one_. Our guest appeared
+somewhat startled at this signal, and looked, with a mournful sort of
+earnestness, at the clock. There was an air of inquietude about him
+which I had never observed in an equal degree before.
+
+I was not without much curiosity respecting other incidents than those
+which had just been related by him; but, after so much fatigue as he had
+undergone, I thought it improper to prolong the conversation.
+
+"Come," said I, "my friend, let us to bed. This is a drowsy time, and,
+after so much exercise of mind and body, you cannot but need some
+repose. Much has happened in your absence, which is proper to be known
+to you; but our discourse will be best deferred till to-morrow. I will
+come into your chamber by day-dawn, and unfold to you particulars."
+
+"Nay," said he, "withdraw not on my account. If I go to my chamber, it
+will not be to sleep, but to meditate, especially after your assurance
+that something of moment has occurred in my absence. My thoughts,
+independently of any cause of sorrow or fear, have received an impulse
+which solitude and darkness will not stop. It is impossible to know too
+much for our safety and integrity, or to know it too soon. What has
+happened?"
+
+I did not hesitate to comply with his request, for it was not difficult
+to conceive that, however tired the limbs might be, the adventures of
+this day would not be easily expelled from the memory at night. I told
+him the substance of the conversation with Mrs. Althorpe. He smiled at
+those parts of the narrative which related to himself; but when his
+father's depravity and poverty were mentioned, he melted into tears.
+
+"Poor wretch! I, that knew thee in thy better days, might have easily
+divined this consequence. I foresaw thy poverty and degradation in the
+same hour that I left thy roof. My soul drooped at the prospect, but I
+said, It cannot be prevented, and this reflection was an antidote to
+grief; but, now that thy ruin is complete, it seems as if some of it
+were imputable to me, who forsook thee when the succour and counsel of a
+son were most needed. Thou art ignorant and vicious, but thou art my
+father still. I see that the sufferings of a better man than thou art
+would less afflict me than thine. Perhaps it is still in my power to
+restore thy liberty and good name, and yet--that is a fond wish. Thou
+art past the age when the ignorance and grovelling habits of a human
+being are susceptible of cure." There he stopped, and, after a gloomy
+pause, continued:--
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I am not surprised or afflicted at the misconceptions of my neighbours
+with relation to my own character. Men must judge from what they see;
+they must build their conclusions on their knowledge. I never saw in the
+rebukes of my neighbours any thing but laudable abhorrence of vice. They
+were too eager to blame, to collect materials of censure rather than of
+praise. It was not me whom they hated and despised. It was the phantom
+that passed under my name, which existed only in their imagination, and
+which was worthy of all their scorn and all their enmity.
+
+What I appeared to be in their eyes was as much the object of my own
+disapprobation as of theirs. Their reproaches only evinced the rectitude
+of their decisions, as well as of my own. I drew from them new motives
+to complacency. They fortified my perseverance in the path which I had
+chosen as best; they raised me higher in my own esteem; they heightened
+the claims of the reproachers themselves to my respect and my
+gratitude.
+
+They thought me slothful, incurious, destitute of knowledge and of all
+thirst of knowledge, insolent, and profligate. They say that in the
+treatment of my father I have been ungrateful and inhuman. I have stolen
+his property, and deserted him in his calamity. Therefore they hate and
+revile me. It is well; I love them for these proofs of their discernment
+and integrity. Their indignation at wrong is the truest test of their
+virtue.
+
+It is true that they mistake me, but that arises from the circumstances
+of our mutual situation. They examined what was exposed to their view,
+they grasped at what was placed within their reach. To decide contrary
+to appearances, to judge from what they knew not, would prove them to be
+brutish and not rational, would make their decision of no worth, and
+render them, in their turn, objects of neglect and contempt.
+
+It is true that I hated school; that I sought occasions of absence, and
+finally, on being struck by the master, determined to enter his presence
+no more. I loved to leap, to run, to swim, to climb trees and to clamber
+up rocks, to shroud myself in thickets and stroll among woods, to obey
+the impulse of the moment, and to prate or be silent, just as my humour
+prompted me. All this I loved more than to go to and fro in the same
+path, and at stated hours to look off and on a book, to read just as
+much and of such a kind, to stand up and be seated, just as another
+thought proper to direct. I hated to be classed, cribbed, rebuked, and
+feruled at the pleasure of one who, as it seemed to me, knew no guide in
+his rewards but caprice, and no prompter in his punishments but passion.
+
+It is true that I took up the spade and the hoe as rarely, and for as
+short a time, as possible. I preferred to ramble in the forest and
+loiter on the hill; perpetually to change the scene; to scrutinize the
+endless variety of objects; to compare one leaf and pebble with another;
+to pursue those trains of thought which their resemblances and
+differences suggested; to inquire what it was that gave them this place,
+structure, and form, were more agreeable employments than ploughing and
+threshing.
+
+My father could well afford to hire labour. What my age and my
+constitution enabled me to do could be done by a sturdy boy, in half the
+time, with half the toil, and with none of the reluctance. The boy was a
+bond-servant, and the cost of his clothing and food was next to nothing.
+True it is, that my service would have saved him even this expense, but
+my motives for declining the effort were not hastily weighed or
+superficially examined. These were my motives.
+
+My frame was delicate and feeble. Exposure to wet blasts and vertical
+suns was sure to make me sick. My father was insensible to this
+consequence; and no degree of diligence would please him but that which
+would destroy my health. My health was dearer to my mother than to me.
+She was more anxious to exempt me from possible injuries than reason
+justified; but anxious she was, and I could not save her from anxiety
+but by almost wholly abstaining from labour. I thought her peace of mind
+was of some value, and that, if the inclination of either of my parents
+must be gratified at the expense of the other, the preference was due to
+the woman who bore me; who nursed me in disease; who watched over my
+safety with incessant tenderness; whose life and whose peace were
+involved in mine. I should have deemed myself brutish and obdurately
+wicked to have loaded her with fears and cares merely to smooth the brow
+of a froward old man, whose avarice called on me to sacrifice my ease
+and my health, and who shifted to other shoulders the province of
+sustaining me when sick, and of mourning for me when dead.
+
+I likewise believed that it became me to reflect upon the influence of
+my decision on my own happiness; and to weigh the profits flowing to my
+father from my labour, against the benefits of mental exercise, the
+pleasures of the woods and streams, healthful sensations, and the luxury
+of musing. The pecuniary profit was petty and contemptible. It obviated
+no necessity. It purchased no rational enjoyment. It merely provoked, by
+furnishing the means of indulgence, an appetite from which my father was
+not exempt. It cherished the seeds of depravity in him, and lessened the
+little stock of happiness belonging to my mother.
+
+I did not detain you long, my friends, in portraying my parents, and
+recounting domestic incidents, when I first told you my story. What had
+no connection with the history of Welbeck and with the part that I have
+acted upon this stage I thought it proper to omit. My omission was
+likewise prompted by other reasons. My mind is enervated and feeble,
+like my body. I cannot look upon the sufferings of those I love without
+exquisite pain. I cannot steel my heart by the force of reason, and by
+submission to necessity; and, therefore, too frequently employ the
+cowardly expedient of endeavouring to forget what I cannot remember
+without agony.
+
+I told you that my father was sober and industrious by habit; but habit
+is not uniform. There were intervals when his plodding and tame spirit
+gave place to the malice and fury of a demon. Liquors were not sought by
+him; but he could not withstand entreaty, and a potion that produced no
+effect upon others changed him into a maniac.
+
+I told you that I had a sister, whom the arts of a villain destroyed.
+Alas! the work of her destruction was left unfinished by him. The blows
+and contumelies of a misjudging and implacable parent, who scrupled not
+to thrust her, with her new-born infant, out of doors; the curses and
+taunts of unnatural brothers, left her no alternative but death.----But
+I must not think of this; I must not think of the wrongs which my mother
+endured in the person of her only and darling daughter.
+
+My brothers were the copyists of the father, whom they resembled in
+temper and person. My mother doted on her own image in her daughter and
+in me. This daughter was ravished from her by self-violence, and her
+other children by disease. I only remained to appropriate her affections
+and fulfil her hopes. This alone had furnished a sufficient reason why I
+should be careful of my health and my life, but my father's character
+supplied me with a motive infinitely more cogent.
+
+It is almost incredible, but nevertheless true, that the only being
+whose presence and remonstrances had any influence on my father, at
+moments when his reason was extinct, was myself. As to my personal
+strength, it was nothing; yet my mother's person was rescued from
+brutal violence; he was checked, in the midst of his ferocious career,
+by a single look or exclamation from me. The fear of my rebukes had even
+some influence in enabling him to resist temptation. If I entered the
+tavern at the moment when he was lifting the glass to his lips, I never
+weighed the injunctions of decorum, but, snatching the vessel from his
+hand, I threw it on the ground. I was not deterred by the presence of
+others; and their censures on my want of filial respect and duty were
+listened to with unconcern. I chose not to justify myself by expatiating
+on domestic miseries, and by calling down that pity on my mother which I
+knew would only have increased her distress.
+
+The world regarded my deportment as insolent and perverse to a degree of
+insanity. To deny my father an indulgence which they thought harmless,
+and which, indeed, was harmless in its influence on other men; to
+interfere thus publicly with his social enjoyments, and expose him to
+mortification and shame, was loudly condemned; but my duty to my mother
+debarred me from eluding this censure on the only terms on which it
+could have been eluded. Now it has ceased to be necessary to conceal
+what passed in domestic retirements, and I should willingly confess the
+truth before any audience.
+
+At first my father imagined that threats and blows would intimidate his
+monitor. In this he was mistaken, and the detection of this mistake
+impressed him with an involuntary reverence for me, which set bounds to
+those excesses which disdained any other control. Hence I derived new
+motives for cherishing a life which was useful, in so many ways, to my
+mother.
+
+My condition is now changed. I am no longer on that field to which the
+law, as well as reason, must acknowledge that I had some right, while
+there was any in my father. I must hazard my life, if need be, in the
+pursuit of the means of honest subsistence. I never spared myself while
+in the service of Mr. Hadwin; and, at a more inclement season, should
+probably have incurred some hazard by my diligence.
+
+These were the motives of my _idleness_,--for my abstaining from the
+common toils of the farm passed by that name among my neighbours;
+though, in truth, my time was far from being wholly unoccupied by manual
+employments, but these required less exertion of body or mind, or were
+more connected with intellectual efforts. They were pursued in the
+seclusion of my chamber or the recesses of a wood. I did not labour to
+conceal them, but neither was I anxious to attract notice. It was
+sufficient that the censure of my neighbours was unmerited, to make me
+regard it with indifference.
+
+I sought not the society of persons of my own age, not from sullen or
+unsociable habits, but merely because those around me were totally
+unlike myself. Their tastes and occupations were incompatible with mine.
+In my few books, in my pen, in the vegetable and animal existences
+around me, I found companions who adapted their visits and intercourse
+to my convenience and caprice, and with whom I was never tired of
+communing.
+
+I was not unaware of the opinion which my neighbours had formed of my
+being improperly connected with Betty Lawrence. I am not sorry that I
+fell into company with that girl. Her intercourse has instructed me in
+what some would think impossible to be attained by one who had never
+haunted the impure recesses of licentiousness in a city. The knowledge
+which a residence in this town for ten years gave her audacious and
+inquisitive spirit she imparted to me. Her character, profligate and
+artful, libidinous and impudent, and made up of the impressions which a
+city life had produced on her coarse but active mind, was open to my
+study, and I studied it.
+
+I scarcely know how to repel the charge of illicit conduct, and to
+depict the exact species of intercourse subsisting between us. I always
+treated her with freedom, and sometimes with gayety. I had no motives to
+reserve. I was so formed that a creature like her had no power over my
+senses. That species of temptation adapted to entice me from the true
+path was widely different from the artifices of Betty. There was no
+point at which it was possible for her to get possession of my fancy. I
+watched her while she practised all her tricks and blandishments, as I
+regarded a similar deportment in the _animal salax ignavumque_ who
+inhabits the sty. I made efforts to pursue my observations
+unembarrassed; but my efforts were made, not to restrain desire, but to
+suppress disgust. The difficulty lay, not in withholding my caresses,
+but in forbearing to repulse her with rage.
+
+Decorum, indeed, was not outraged, and all limits were not overstepped
+at once. Dubious advances were employed; but, when found unavailing,
+were displaced by more shameless and direct proceedings. She was too
+little versed in human nature to see that her last expedient was always
+worse than the preceding; and that, in proportion as she lost sight of
+decency, she multiplied the obstacles to her success.
+
+Betty had many enticements in person and air. She was ruddy, smooth, and
+plump. To these she added--I must not say what, for it is strange to
+what lengths a woman destitute of modesty will sometimes go. But, all
+her artifices availing her not at all in the contest with my
+insensibilities, she resorted to extremes which it would serve no good
+purpose to describe in this audience. They produced not the consequences
+she wished, but they produced another which was by no means displeasing
+to her. An incident one night occurred, from which a sagacious observer
+deduced the existence of an intrigue. It was useless to attempt to
+rectify his mistake by explaining appearances in a manner consistent
+with my innocence. This mode of explication implied a _continence_ in me
+which he denied to be possible. The standard of possibilities,
+especially in vice and virtue, is fashioned by most men after their own
+character. A temptation which this judge of human nature knew that _he_
+was unable to resist, he sagely concluded to be irresistible by any
+other man, and quickly established the belief among my neighbours, that
+the woman who married the father had been prostituted to the son. Though
+I never admitted the truth of this aspersion, I believed it useless to
+deny, because no one would credit my denial, and because I had no power
+to disprove it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+
+What other inquiries were to be resolved by our young friend, we were
+now, at this late hour, obliged to postpone till the morrow. I shall
+pass over the reflections which a story like this would naturally
+suggest, and hasten to our next interview.
+
+After breakfast next morning, the subject of last night's conversation
+was renewed. I told him that something had occurred in his absence, in
+relation to Mrs. Wentworth and her nephew, that had perplexed us not a
+little. "My information is obtained," continued I, "from Wortley; and it
+is nothing less than that young Clavering, Mrs. Wentworth's nephew, is,
+at this time, actually alive."
+
+Surprise, but none of the embarrassment of guilt, appeared in his
+countenance at these tidings. He looked at me as if desirous that I
+should proceed.
+
+"It seems," added I, "that a letter was lately received by this lady
+from the father of Clavering, who is now in Europe. This letter reports
+that this son was lately met with in Charleston, and relates the means
+which old Mr. Clavering had used to prevail upon his son to return home;
+means, of the success of which he entertained well-grounded hopes. What
+think you?"
+
+"I can only reject it," said he, after some pause, "as untrue. The
+father's correspondent may have been deceived. The father may have been
+deceived, or the father may conceive it necessary to deceive the aunt,
+or some other supposition as to the source of the error may be true; but
+an error it surely is. Clavering is not alive. I know the chamber where
+he died, and the withered pine under which he lies buried."
+
+"If she be deceived," said I, "it will be impossible to rectify her
+error."
+
+"I hope not. An honest front and a straight story will be sufficient."
+
+"How do you mean to act?"
+
+"Visit her, without doubt, and tell her the truth. My tale will be too
+circumstantial and consistent to permit her to disbelieve."
+
+"She will not hearken to you. She is too strongly prepossessed against
+you to admit you even to a hearing."
+
+"She cannot help it. Unless she lock her door against me, or stuff her
+ears with wool, she must hear me. Her prepossessions are reasonable, but
+are easily removed by telling the truth. Why does she suspect me of
+artifice? Because I seemed to be allied to Welbeck, and because I
+disguised the truth. That she thinks ill of me is not her fault, but my
+misfortune; and, happily for me, a misfortune easily removed."
+
+"Then you will try to see her?"
+
+"I will see her, and the sooner the better. I will see her to-day; this
+morning; as soon as I have seen Welbeck, whom I shall immediately visit
+in his prison."
+
+"There are other embarrassments and dangers of which you are not aware.
+Welbeck is pursued by many persons whom he has defrauded of large sums.
+By these persons you are deemed an accomplice in his guilt, and a
+warrant is already in the hands of officers for arresting you wherever
+you are found."
+
+"In what way," said Mervyn, sedately, "do they imagine me a partaker of
+his crime?"
+
+"I know not. You lived with him. You fled with him. You aided and
+connived at his escape."
+
+"Are these crimes?"
+
+"I believe not, but they subject you to suspicion."
+
+"To arrest and to punishment?"
+
+"To detention for a while, perhaps. But these alone cannot expose you to
+punishment."
+
+"I thought so. Then I have nothing to fear."
+
+"You have imprisonment and obloquy, at least, to dread."
+
+"True; but they cannot be avoided but by my exile and skulking out of
+sight,--evils infinitely more formidable. I shall, therefore, not avoid
+them. The sooner my conduct is subjected to scrutiny, the better. Will
+you go with me to Welbeck?"
+
+"I will go with you."
+
+Inquiring for Welbeck of the keeper of the prison, we were informed that
+he was in his own apartment, very sick. The physician attending the
+prison had been called, but the prisoner had preserved an obstinate and
+scornful silence; and had neither explained his condition, nor consented
+to accept any aid.
+
+We now went alone into his apartment. His sensibility seemed fast
+ebbing, yet an emotion of joy was visible in his eyes at the appearance
+of Mervyn. He seemed likewise to recognise in me his late visitant, and
+made no objection to my entrance.
+
+"How are you this morning?" said Arthur, seating himself on the bedside,
+and taking his hand. The sick man was scarcely able to articulate his
+reply:--"I shall soon be well. I have longed to see you. I want to leave
+with you a few words." He now cast his languid eyes on me. "You are his
+friend," he continued. "You know all. You may stay."
+
+There now succeeded a long pause, during which he closed his eyes, and
+resigned himself as if to an oblivion of all thought. His pulse under my
+hand was scarcely perceptible. From this in some minutes he recovered,
+and, fixing his eyes on Mervyn, resumed, in a broken and feeble
+accent:--
+
+"Clemenza! You have seen her. Weeks ago, I left her in an accursed
+house; yet she has not been mistreated. Neglected and abandoned indeed,
+but not mistreated. Save her, Mervyn. Comfort her. Awaken charity for
+her sake.
+
+"I cannot tell you what has happened. The tale would be too long,--too
+mournful. Yet, in justice to the living, I must tell you something. My
+woes and my crimes will be buried with me. Some of them, but not all.
+
+"Ere this, I should have been many leagues upon the ocean, had not a
+newspaper fallen into my hands while on the eve of embarkation. By that
+I learned that a treasure was buried with the remains of the ill-fated
+Watson. I was destitute. I was unjust enough to wish to make this
+treasure my own. Prone to think I was forgotten, or numbered with the
+victims of pestilence, I ventured to return under a careless disguise. I
+penetrated to the vaults of that deserted dwelling by night. I dug up
+the bones of my friend, and found the girdle and its valuable contents,
+according to the accurate description that I had read.
+
+"I hastened back with my prize to Baltimore, but my evil destiny
+overtook me at last. I was recognised by emissaries of Jamieson,
+arrested and brought hither, and here shall I consummate my fate and
+defeat the rage of my creditors by death. But first----"
+
+Here Welbeck stretched out his left hand to Mervyn, and, after some
+reluctance, showed a roll of lead.
+
+"Receive this," said he. "In the use of it, be guided by your honesty
+and by the same advertisement that furnished me the clue by which to
+recover it. That being secured, the world and I will part forever.
+Withdraw, for your presence can help me nothing."
+
+We were unwilling to comply with his injunction, and continued some
+longer time in his chamber; but our kind intent availed nothing. He
+quickly relapsed into insensibility, from which he recovered not again,
+but next day expired. Such, in the flower of his age, was the fate of
+Thomas Welbeck.
+
+Whatever interest I might feel in accompanying the progress of my young
+friend, a sudden and unforeseen emergency compelled me again to leave
+the city. A kinsman, to whom I was bound by many obligations, was
+suffering a lingering disease, and, imagining, with some reason, his
+dissolution to be not far distant, he besought my company and my
+assistance, to soothe, at least, the agonies of his last hour. I was
+anxious to clear up the mysteries which Arthur's conduct had produced,
+and to shield him, if possible, from the evils which I feared awaited
+him. It was impossible, however, to decline the invitation of my
+kinsman, as his residence was not a day's journey from the city. I was
+obliged to content myself with occasional information, imparted by
+Mervyn's letters or those of my wife.
+
+Meanwhile, on leaving the prison, I hasted to inform Mervyn of the true
+nature of the scene which had just passed. By this extraordinary
+occurrence, the property of the Maurices was now in honest hands.
+Welbeck, stimulated by selfish motives, had done that which any other
+person would have found encompassed with formidable dangers and
+difficulties. How this attempt was suggested or executed, he had not
+informed us, nor was it desirable to know. It was sufficient that the
+means of restoring their own to a destitute and meritorious family were
+now in our possession.
+
+Having returned home, I unfolded to Mervyn all the particulars
+respecting Williams and the Maurices which I had lately learned from
+Wortley. He listened with deep attention, and, my story being finished,
+he said, "In this small compass, then, is the patrimony and subsistence
+of a numerous family. To restore it to them is the obvious
+proceeding--but how? Where do they abide?"
+
+"Williams and Watson's wife live in Baltimore, and the Maurices live
+near that town. The advertisements alluded to by Wortley, and which are
+to be found in any newspaper, will inform us; but, first, are we sure
+that any or all of these bills are contained in this covering?"
+
+The lead was now unrolled, and the bills which Williams had described
+were found enclosed. Nothing appeared to be deficient. Of this, however,
+we were scarcely qualified to judge. Those that were the property of
+Williams might not be entire, and what would be the consequence of
+presenting them to him, if any had been embezzled by Welbeck?
+
+This difficulty was obviated by Mervyn, who observed that the
+advertisement describing these bills would afford us ample information
+on this head. "Having found out where the Maurices and Mrs. Watson live,
+nothing remains but to visit them, and put an end, as far as lies in my
+power, to their inquietudes."
+
+"What! Would you go to Baltimore?"
+
+"Certainly. Can any other expedient be proper? How shall I otherwise
+insure the safe conveyance of these papers?"
+
+"You may send them by post."
+
+"But why not go myself?"
+
+"I can hardly tell, unless your appearance on such an errand may be
+suspected likely to involve you in embarrassments."
+
+"What embarrassments? If they receive their own, ought they not to be
+satisfied?"
+
+"The inquiry will naturally be made as to the manner of gaining
+possession of these papers. They were lately in the hands of Watson, but
+Watson has disappeared. Suspicions are awake respecting the cause of his
+disappearance. These suspicions are connected with Welbeck, and
+Welbeck's connection with you is not unknown."
+
+"These are evils, but I see not how an ingenious and open conduct is
+adapted to increase these evils. If they come, I must endure them."
+
+"I believe your decision is right. No one is so skilful an advocate in a
+cause, as he whose cause it is. I rely upon your skill and address, and
+shall leave you to pursue your own way. I must leave you for a time, but
+shall expect to be punctually informed of all that passes." With this
+agreement we parted, and I hastened to perform my intended journey.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+
+I am glad, my friend, thy nimble pen has got so far upon its journey.
+What remains of my story may be despatched in a trice. I have just now
+some vacant hours, which might possibly be more usefully employed, but
+not in an easier manner or more pleasant. So, let me carry on thy
+thread.
+
+First, let me mention the resolutions I had formed at the time I parted
+with my friend. I had several objects in view. One was a conference with
+Mrs. Wentworth; another was an interview with her whom I met with at
+Villars's. My heart melted when I thought upon the desolate condition of
+Clemenza, and determined me to direct my first efforts for her relief.
+For this end I was to visit the female who had given me a direction to
+her house. The name of this person is Achsa Fielding, and she lived,
+according to her own direction, at No. 40 Walnut Street.
+
+I went thither without delay. She was not at home. Having gained
+information from the servant as to when she might be found, I proceeded
+to Mrs. Wentworth's. In going thither my mind was deeply occupied in
+meditation; and, with my usual carelessness of forms, I entered the
+house and made my way to the parlour, where an interview had formerly
+taken place between us.
+
+Having arrived, I began, though somewhat unseasonably, to reflect upon
+the topics with which I should introduce my conversation, and
+particularly the manner in which I should introduce myself. I had opened
+doors without warning, and traversed passages without being noticed.
+This had arisen from my thoughtlessness. There was no one within hearing
+or sight. What was next to be done? Should I not return softly to the
+outer door, and summon the servant by knocking?
+
+Preparing to do this, I heard a footstep in the entry which suspended my
+design. I stood in the middle of the floor, attentive to these
+movements, when presently the door opened, and there entered the
+apartment Mrs. Wentworth herself! She came, as it seemed, without
+expectation of finding any one there. When, therefore, the figure of a
+man caught her vagrant attention, she started and cast a hasty look
+towards me.
+
+"Pray!" (in a peremptory tone,) "how came you here, sir? and what is
+your business?"
+
+Neither arrogance, on the one hand, nor humility, upon the other, had
+any part in modelling my deportment. I came not to deprecate anger, or
+exult over distress. I answered, therefore, distinctly, firmly, and
+erectly,--
+
+"I came to see you, madam, and converse with you; but, being busy with
+other thoughts, I forgot to knock at the door. No evil was intended by
+my negligence, though propriety has certainly not been observed. Will
+you pardon this intrusion, and condescend to grant me your attention?"
+
+"To what? What have you to say to me? I know you only as the accomplice
+of a villain in an attempt to deceive me. There is nothing to justify
+your coming hither, and I desire you to leave the house with as little
+ceremony as you entered it."
+
+My eyes were lowered at this rebuke, yet I did not obey the command.
+"Your treatment of me, madam, is such as I appear to you to deserve.
+Appearances are unfavourable to me, but those appearances are false. I
+have concurred in no plot against your reputation or your fortune. I
+have told you nothing but the truth. I came hither to promote no selfish
+or sinister purpose. I have no favour to entreat, and no petition to
+offer, but that you will suffer me to clear up those mistakes which you
+have harboured respecting me.
+
+"I am poor. I am destitute of fame and of kindred. I have nothing to
+console me in obscurity and indigence, but the approbation of my own
+heart and the good opinion of those who know me as I am. The good may be
+led to despise and condemn me. Their aversion and scorn shall not make
+me unhappy; but it is my interest and my duty to rectify their error if
+I can. I regard your character with esteem. You have been mistaken in
+condemning me as a liar and impostor, and I came to remove this mistake.
+I came, if not to procure your esteem, at least to take away hatred and
+suspicion.
+
+"But this is not all my purpose. You are in an error in relation not
+only to my character, but to the situation of your nephew Clavering. I
+formerly told you, that I saw him die; that I assisted at his burial:
+but my tale was incoherent and imperfect, and you have since received
+intelligence to which you think proper to trust, and which assures you
+that he is still living. All I now ask is your attention, while I relate
+the particulars of my knowledge.
+
+"Proof of my veracity or innocence may be of no value in your eyes, but
+the fate of your nephew ought to be known to you. Certainty, on this
+head, may be of much importance to your happiness, and to the regulation
+of your future conduct. To hear me patiently can do you no injury, and
+may benefit you much. Will you permit me to go on?"
+
+During this address, little abatement of resentment and scorn was
+visible in my companion.
+
+"I will hear you," she replied. "Your invention may amuse if it does not
+edify. But, I pray you, let your story be short."
+
+I was obliged to be content with this ungraceful concession, and
+proceeded to begin my narration. I described the situation of my
+father's dwelling. I mentioned the year, month, day, and hour of her
+nephew's appearance among us. I expatiated minutely on his form,
+features, dress, sound of his voice, and repeated his words. His
+favourite gestures and attitudes were faithfully described.
+
+I had gone but a little way in my story, when the effects were visible
+in her demeanour which I expected from it. Her knowledge of the youth,
+and of the time and manner of his disappearance, made it impossible for
+me, with so minute a narrative, to impose upon her credulity. Every
+word, every incident related, attested my truth, by their agreement with
+what she herself previously knew.
+
+Her suspicious and angry watchfulness was quickly exchanged for downcast
+looks, and stealing tears, and sighs difficultly repressed. Meanwhile, I
+did not pause, but described the treatment he received from my mother's
+tenderness, his occupations, the freaks of his insanity, and, finally,
+the circumstances of his death and funeral.
+
+Thence I hastened to the circumstances which brought me to the city;
+which placed me in the service of Welbeck, and obliged me to perform so
+ambiguous a part in her presence. I left no difficulty to be solved, and
+no question unanticipated.
+
+"I have now finished my story," I continued, "and accomplished my design
+in coming hither. Whether I have vindicated my integrity from your
+suspicions, I know not. I have done what in me lay to remove your error;
+and, in that, have done my duty. What more remains? Any inquiries you
+are pleased to make, I am ready to answer. If there be none to make, I
+will comply with your former commands, and leave the house with as
+little ceremony as I entered it."
+
+"Your story," she replied, "has been unexpected. I believe it fully, and
+am sorry for the hard thoughts which past appearances have made me
+entertain concerning you."
+
+Here she sunk into mournful silence. "The information," she at length
+resumed, "which I have received from another quarter respecting that
+unfortunate youth, astonishes and perplexes me. It is inconsistent with
+your story, but it must be founded on some mistake, which I am, at
+present, unable to unravel. Welbeck, whose connection has been so
+unfortunate to you----"
+
+"Unfortunate! Dear madam! How unfortunate? It has done away a part of my
+ignorance of the world in which I live. It has led me to the situation
+in which I am now placed. It has introduced me to the knowledge of many
+good people. It has made me the witness and the subject of many acts of
+beneficence and generosity. My knowledge of Welbeck has been useful to
+me. It has enabled me to be useful to others. I look back upon that
+allotment of my destiny which first led me to his door, with gratitude
+and pleasure.
+
+"Would to heaven," continued I, somewhat changing my tone, "intercourse
+with Welbeck had been as harmless to all others as it has been to me!
+that no injury to fortune and fame, and innocence and life, had been
+incurred by others greater than has fallen upon my head! There is one
+being, whose connection with him has not been utterly dissimilar in its
+origin and circumstances to mine, though the catastrophe has, indeed,
+been widely and mournfully different.
+
+"And yet, within this moment, a thought has occurred from which I derive
+some consolation and some hope. You, dear madam, are rich. These
+spacious apartments, this plentiful accommodation, are yours. You have
+enough for your own gratification and convenience, and somewhat to
+spare. Will you take to your protecting arms, to your hospitable roof,
+an unhappy girl whom the arts of Welbeck have robbed of fortune,
+reputation, and honour, who is now languishing in poverty, weeping over
+the lifeless remains of her babe, surrounded by the agents of vice, and
+trembling on the verge of infamy?"
+
+"What can this mean?" replied the lady. "Of whom do you speak?"
+
+"You shall know her. You shall be apprized of her claims to your
+compassion. Her story, as far as is known to me, I will faithfully
+repeat to you. She is a stranger; an Italian; her name is Clemenza
+Lodi."
+
+"Clemenza Lodi! Good heaven!" exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth; "why, surely--it
+cannot be. And yet--is it possible that you are that person?"
+
+"I do not comprehend you, madam."
+
+"A friend has related a transaction of a strange sort. It is scarcely an
+hour since she told it me. The name of Clemenza Lodi was mentioned in
+it, and a young man of most singular deportment was described. But tell
+me how you were engaged on Thursday morning."
+
+"I was coming to this city from a distance. I stopped ten minutes at the
+house of----"
+
+"Mrs. Villars?"
+
+"The same. Perhaps you know her and her character. Perhaps you can
+confirm or rectify my present opinions concerning her. It is there that
+the unfortunate Clemenza abides. It is thence that I wish her to be
+speedily removed."
+
+"I have heard of you; of your conduct upon that occasion."
+
+"Of me?" answered I, eagerly. "Do you know that woman?" So saying, I
+produced the card which I had received from her, and on which her name
+was written.
+
+"I know her well. She is my countrywoman and my friend."
+
+"Your friend? Then she is good; she is innocent; she is generous. Will
+she be a sister, a protectress, to Clemenza? Will you exhort her to a
+deed of charity? Will you be, yourself, an example of beneficence?
+Direct me to Miss Fielding, I beseech you. I have called on her already,
+but in vain, and there is no time to be lost."
+
+"Why are you so precipitate? What would you do?"
+
+"Take her away from that house instantly--bring her hither--place her
+under your protection--give her Mrs. Wentworth for a counsellor--a
+friend--a mother. Shall I do this? Shall I hie thither to-day, this very
+hour--now? Give me your consent, and she shall be with you before noon."
+
+"By no means," replied she, with earnestness. "You are too hasty. An
+affair of so much importance cannot be despatched in a moment. There are
+many difficulties and doubts to be first removed."
+
+"Let them be reserved for the future. Withhold not your helping hand
+till the struggle has disappeared forever. Think on the gulf that is
+already gaping to swallow her. This is no time to hesitate and falter. I
+will tell you her story, but not now; we will postpone it till
+to-morrow, and first secure her from impending evils. She shall tell it
+you herself. In an hour I will bring her hither, and she herself shall
+recount to you her sorrows. Will you let me?"
+
+"Your behaviour is extraordinary. I can scarcely tell whether this
+simplicity be real or affected. One would think that your common sense
+would show you the impropriety of your request. To admit under my roof a
+woman notoriously dishonoured, and from an infamous house----"
+
+"My dearest madam! How can you reflect upon the situation without
+irresistible pity? I see that you are thoroughly aware of her past
+calamity and her present danger. Do not these urge you to make haste to
+her relief? Can any lot be more deplorable than hers? Can any state be
+more perilous? Poverty is not the only evil that oppresses or that
+threatens her. The scorn of the world, and her own compunction, the
+death of the fruit of her error and the witness of her shame, are not
+the worst. She is exposed to the temptations of the profligate; while
+she remains with Mrs. Villars, her infamy accumulates; her further
+debasement is facilitated; her return to reputation and to virtue is
+obstructed by new bars."
+
+"How know I that her debasement is not already complete and
+irremediable? She is a mother, but not a wife. How came she thus? Is her
+being Welbeck's prostitute no proof of her guilt?"
+
+"Alas! I know not. I believe her not very culpable; I know her to be
+unfortunate; to have been robbed and betrayed. You are a stranger to her
+history. I am myself imperfectly acquainted with it.
+
+"But let me tell you the little that I know. Perhaps my narrative may
+cause you to think of her as I do."
+
+She did not object to this proposal, and I immediately recounted all
+that I had gained from my own observations, or from Welbeck himself,
+respecting this forlorn girl. Having finished my narrative, I proceeded
+thus:--
+
+"Can you hesitate to employ that power which was given you for good
+ends, to rescue this sufferer? Take her to your home; to your bosom; to
+your confidence. Keep aloof those temptations which beset her in her
+present situation. Restore her to that purity which her desolate
+condition, her ignorance, her misplaced gratitude and the artifices of a
+skilful dissembler, have destroyed, if it be destroyed; for how know we
+under what circumstances her ruin was accomplished? With what pretences,
+or appearances, or promises, she was won to compliance?"
+
+"True. I confess my ignorance; but ought not that ignorance to be
+removed before she makes a part of my family?"
+
+"Oh, no! It may be afterwards removed. It cannot be removed before. By
+bringing her hither you shield her, at least, from future and possible
+evils. Here you can watch her conduct and sift her sentiments
+conveniently and at leisure. Should she prove worthy of your charity,
+how justly may you congratulate yourself on your seasonable efforts in
+her cause! If she prove unworthy, you may then demean yourself according
+to her demerits."
+
+"I must reflect upon it.--To-morrow----"
+
+"Let me prevail on you to admit her at once, and without delay. This
+very moment may be the critical one. To-day we may exert ourselves with
+success, but to-morrow all our efforts may be fruitless. Why fluctuate,
+why linger, when so much good may be done, and no evil can possibly be
+incurred? It requires but a word from you; you need not move a finger.
+Your house is large. You have chambers vacant and convenient. Consent
+only that your door shall not be barred against her; that you will treat
+her with civility: to carry your kindness into effect; to persuade her
+to attend me hither and to place herself in your care, shall be my
+province."
+
+These and many similar entreaties and reasonings were ineffectual. Her
+general disposition was kind, but she was unaccustomed to strenuous or
+sudden exertions. To admit the persuasions of such an advocate to so
+uncommon a scheme as that of sharing her house with a creature thus
+previously unknown to her, thus loaded with suspicion and with obloquy,
+was not possible.
+
+I at last forbore importunity, and requested her to tell me when I might
+expect to meet with Mrs. Fielding at her lodgings. Inquiry was made to
+what end I sought an interview. I made no secret of my purpose.
+
+"Are you mad, young man?" she exclaimed. "Mrs. Fielding has already been
+egregiously imprudent. On the faith of an ancient slight acquaintance
+with Mrs. Villars in Europe, she suffered herself to be decoyed into a
+visit. Instead of taking warning by numerous tokens of the real
+character of that woman, in her behaviour and in that of her visitants,
+she consented to remain there one night. The next morning took place
+that astonishing interview with you which she has since described to me.
+She is now warned against the like indiscretion. And, pray, what
+benevolent scheme would you propose to her?"
+
+"Has she property? Is she rich?"
+
+"She is. Unhappily, perhaps, for her, she is absolute mistress of her
+fortune, and has neither guardian nor parent to control her in the use
+of it."
+
+"Has she virtue? Does she know the value of affluence and a fair fame?
+And will not she devote a few dollars to rescue a fellow-creature from
+indigence and infamy and vice? Surely she will. She will hazard nothing
+by the boon. I will be her almoner. I will provide the wretched stranger
+with food and raiment and dwelling; I will pay for all, if Mrs.
+Fielding, from her superfluity, will supply the means. Clemenza shall
+owe life and honour to your friend, till I am able to supply the needful
+sum from my own stock."
+
+While thus speaking, my companion gazed at me with steadfastness:--"I
+know not what to make of you. Your language and ideas are those of a
+lunatic. Are you acquainted with Mrs. Fielding?"
+
+"Yes. I have seen her two days ago, and she has invited me to see her
+again."
+
+"And on the strength of this acquaintance you expect to be her almoner?
+To be the medium of her charity?"
+
+"I desire to save her trouble; to make charity as light and easy as
+possible. 'Twill be better if she perform those offices herself. 'Twill
+redound more to the credit of her reason and her virtue. But I solicit
+her benignity only in the cause of Clemenza. For her only do I wish at
+present to call forth her generosity and pity."
+
+"And do you imagine she will intrust her money to one of your age and
+sex, whom she knows so imperfectly, to administer to the wants of one
+whom she found in such a house as Mrs. Villars's? She never will. She
+mentioned her imprudent engagement to meet you, but she is now warned
+against the folly of such confidence.
+
+"You have told me plausible stories of yourself and of this Clemenza. I
+cannot say that I disbelieve them, but I know the ways of the world too
+well to bestow implicit faith so easily. You are an extraordinary young
+man. You may possibly be honest. Such a one as you, with your education
+and address, may possibly have passed all your life in a hovel; but it
+is scarcely credible, let me tell you. I believe most of the facts
+respecting my nephew, because my knowledge of him before his flight
+would enable me to detect your falsehood; but there must be other proofs
+besides an innocent brow and a voluble tongue, to make me give full
+credit to your pretensions.
+
+"I have no claim upon Welbeck which can embarrass you. On that score,
+you are free from any molestation from me or my friends. I have
+suspected you of being an accomplice in some vile plot, and am now
+inclined to acquit you; but that is all that you must expect from me,
+till your character be established by other means than your own
+assertions. I am engaged at present, and must therefore request you to
+put an end to your visit."
+
+This strain was much unlike the strain which preceded it. I imagined, by
+the mildness of her tone and manners, that her unfavourable
+prepossessions were removed; but they seemed to have suddenly regained
+their pristine force. I was somewhat disconcerted by this unexpected
+change. I stood for a minute silent and irresolute.
+
+Just then a knock was heard at the door, and presently entered that very
+female whom I had met with at Villars's. I caught her figure as I
+glanced through the window. Mrs. Wentworth darted at me many significant
+glances, which commanded me to withdraw; but, with this object in view,
+it was impossible.
+
+As soon as she entered, her eyes were fixed upon me. Certain
+recollections naturally occurred at that moment, and made her cheeks
+glow. Some confusion reigned for a moment, but was quickly dissipated.
+She did not notice me, but exchanged salutations with her friend.
+
+All this while I stood near the window, in a situation not a little
+painful. Certain tremors which I had not been accustomed to feel, and
+which seemed to possess a mystical relation to the visitant, disabled me
+at once from taking my leave, or from performing any useful purpose by
+staying. At length, struggling for composure, I approached her, and,
+showing her the card she had given me, said,--
+
+"Agreeably to this direction, I called an hour ago, at your lodgings. I
+found you not. I hope you will permit me to call once more. When shall
+I expect to meet you at home?"
+
+Her eyes were cast on the floor. A kind of indirect attention was fixed
+on Mrs. Wentworth, serving to intimidate and check her. At length she
+said, in an irresolute voice, "I shall be at home this evening."
+
+"And this evening," replied I, "I will call to see you." So saying, I
+left the house.
+
+This interval was tedious, but was to be endured with equanimity. I was
+impatient to be gone to Baltimore, and hoped to be able to set out by
+the dawn of next day. Meanwhile, I was necessarily to perform something
+with respect to Clemenza.
+
+After dinner I accompanied Mrs. Stevens to visit Miss Carlton. I was
+eager to see a woman who could bear adversity in the manner which my
+friend had described.
+
+She met us at the door of her apartment. Her seriousness was not abated
+by her smiles of affability and welcome. "My friend!" whispered I, "how
+truly lovely is this Miss Carlton! Are the heart and the intelligence
+within worthy of these features?"
+
+"Yes, they are. The account of her employments, of her resignation to
+the ill fate of the brother whom she loves, proves that they are."
+
+My eyes were riveted to her countenance and person. I felt
+uncontrollable eagerness to speak to her, and to gain her good opinion.
+
+"You must know this young man, my dear Miss Carlton," said my friend,
+looking at me; "he is my husband's friend, and professes a great desire
+to be yours. You must not treat him as a mere stranger, for he knows
+your character and situation already, as well as that of your brother."
+
+She looked at me with benignity:--"I accept his friendship willingly and
+gratefully, and shall endeavour to convince him that his good opinion is
+not misplaced."
+
+There now ensued a conversation somewhat general, in which this young
+woman showed a mind vigorous from exercise and unembarrassed by care.
+She affected no concealment of her own condition, of her wants, or her
+comforts. She laid no stress upon misfortunes, but contrived to deduce
+some beneficial consequence to herself, and some motive for gratitude to
+Heaven, from every wayward incident that had befallen her.
+
+This demeanour emboldened me, at length, to inquire into the cause of
+her brother's imprisonment, and the nature of his debt.
+
+She answered frankly and without hesitation:--"It is a debt of his
+father's, for which he made himself responsible during his father's
+life. The act was generous but imprudent, as the event has shown;
+though, at the time, the unhappy effects could not be foreseen.
+
+"My father," continued she, "was arrested by his creditor, at a time
+when the calmness and comforts of his own dwelling were necessary to his
+health. The creditor was obdurate, and would release him upon no
+condition but that of receiving a bond from my brother, by which he
+engaged to pay the debt at several successive times and in small
+portions. All these instalments were discharged with great difficulty
+indeed, but with sufficient punctuality, except the last, to which my
+brother's earnings were not adequate."
+
+"How much is the debt?"
+
+"Four hundred dollars."
+
+"And is the state of the creditor such as to make the loss of four
+hundred dollars of more importance to him than the loss of liberty to
+your brother?"
+
+She answered, smiling, "That is a very abstract view of things. On such
+a question you and I might, perhaps, easily decide in favour of my
+brother; but would there not be some danger of deciding partially? His
+conduct is a proof of his decision, and there is no power to change it."
+
+"Will not argument change it? Methinks in so plain a case I should be
+able to convince him. You say he is rich and childless. His annual
+income is ten times more than this sum. Your brother cannot pay the debt
+while in prison; whereas, if at liberty, he might slowly and finally
+discharge it. If his humanity would not yield, his avarice might be
+brought to acquiesce."
+
+"But there is another passion which you would find it somewhat harder to
+subdue, and that is his vengeance. He thinks himself wronged, and
+imprisons my brother, not to enforce payment, but to inflict misery. If
+you could persuade him that there is no hardship in imprisonment, you
+would speedily gain the victory; but that could not be attempted
+consistently with truth. In proportion to my brother's suffering is his
+gratification."
+
+"You draw an odious and almost incredible portrait."
+
+"And yet such a one would serve for the likeness of almost every second
+man we meet."
+
+"And is such your opinion of mankind? Your experience must surely have
+been of a rueful tenor to justify such hard thoughts of the rest of your
+species."
+
+"By no means. It has been what those whose situation disables them from
+looking further than the surface of things would regard as unfortunate;
+but, if my goods and evils were equitably balanced, the former would be
+the weightiest. I have found kindness and goodness in great numbers, but
+have likewise met prejudice and rancor in many. My opinion of Farquhar
+is not lightly taken up. I saw him yesterday, and the nature of his
+motives in the treatment of my brother was plain enough."
+
+Here this topic was succeeded by others, and the conversation ceased not
+till the hour had arrived on which I had preconcerted to visit Mrs.
+Fielding. I left my two friends for this purpose.
+
+I was admitted to Mrs. Fielding's presence without scruple or
+difficulty. There were two females in her company, and one of the other
+sex, well-dressed, elderly, and sedate persons. Their discourse turned
+upon political topics, with which, as you know, I have but slight
+acquaintance. They talked of fleets and armies, of Robespierre and Pitt,
+of whom I had only a newspaper-knowledge.
+
+In a short time the women rose, and, huddling on their cloaks,
+disappeared, in company with the gentleman. Being thus left alone with
+Mrs. Fielding, some embarrassment was mutually betrayed. With much
+hesitation, which, however, gradually disappeared, my companion, at
+length, began the conversation:--
+
+"You met me lately, in a situation, sir, on which I look back with
+trembling and shame, but not with any self-condemnation. I was led into
+it without any fault, unless a too hasty confidence may be styled a
+fault. I had known Mrs. Villars in England, where she lived with an
+untainted reputation, at least; and the sight of my countrywoman, in a
+foreign land, awakened emotions in the indulgence of which I did not
+imagine there was either any guilt or any danger. She invited me to see
+her at her house with so much urgency and warmth, and solicited me to
+take a place immediately in a chaise in which she had come to the city,
+that I too incautiously complied.
+
+"You are a stranger to me, and I am unacquainted with your character.
+What little I have seen of your deportment, and what little I have
+lately heard concerning you from Mrs. Wentworth, do not produce
+unfavourable impressions; but the apology I have made was due to my own
+reputation, and should have been offered to you whatever your character
+had been." There she stopped.
+
+"I came not hither," said I, "to receive an apology. Your demeanour, on
+our first interview, shielded you sufficiently from any suspicions or
+surmises that I could form. What you have now mentioned was likewise
+mentioned by your friend, and was fully believed upon her authority. My
+purpose, in coming, related not to you, but to another. I desired merely
+to interest your generosity and justice on behalf of one whose destitute
+and dangerous condition may lay claim to your compassion and your
+succour."
+
+"I comprehend you," said she, with an air of some perplexity. "I know
+the claims of that person."
+
+"And will you comply with them?"
+
+"In what manner can I serve her?"
+
+"By giving her the means of living."
+
+"Does she not possess them already?"
+
+"She is destitute. Her dependence was wholly placed upon one that is
+dead, by whom her person was dishonoured and her fortune embezzled."
+
+"But she still lives. She is not turned into the street. She is not
+destitute of home."
+
+"But what a home!"
+
+"Such as she may choose to remain in."
+
+"She cannot choose it. She must not choose it. She remains through
+ignorance, or through the incapacity of leaving it."
+
+"But how shall she be persuaded to a change?"
+
+"I will persuade her. I will fully explain her situation. I will supply
+her with a new home."
+
+"You will persuade her to go with you, and to live at a home of your
+providing and on your bounty?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Would that change be worthy of a cautious person? Would it benefit her
+reputation? Would it prove her love of independence?"
+
+"My purposes are good. I know not why she should suspect them. But I am
+only anxious to be the instrument. Let her be indebted to one of her own
+sex, of unquestionable reputation. Admit her into this house. Invite her
+to your arms. Cherish and console her as your sister."
+
+"Before I am convinced that she deserves it? And even then, what regard
+shall I, young, unmarried, independent, affluent, pay to my own
+reputation in harbouring a woman in these circumstances?"
+
+"But you need not act yourself. Make me your agent and almoner. Only
+supply her with the means of subsistence through me."
+
+"Would you have me act a clandestine part? Hold meetings with one of
+your sex, and give him money for a purpose which I must hide from the
+world? Is it worth while to be a dissembler and impostor? And will not
+such conduct incur more dangerous surmises and suspicions than would
+arise from acting openly and directly? You will forgive me for reminding
+you, likewise, that it is particularly incumbent upon those in my
+situation to be circumspect in their intercourse with men and with
+strangers. This is the second time that I have seen you. My knowledge of
+you is extremely dubious and imperfect, and such as would make the
+conduct you prescribe to me, in a high degree, rash and culpable. You
+must not, therefore, expect me to pursue it."
+
+These words were delivered with an air of firmness and dignity. I was
+not insensible to the truth of her representations. "I confess," said I,
+"what you have said makes me doubt the propriety of my proposal; yet I
+would fain be of service to her. Cannot you point out some practicable
+method?"
+
+She was silent and thoughtful, and seemed indisposed to answer my
+question.
+
+"I had set my heart upon success in this negotiation," continued I, "and
+could not imagine any obstacle to its success; but I find my ignorance
+of the world's ways much greater than I had previously expected. You
+defraud yourself of all the happiness redounding from the act of making
+others happy. You sacrifice substance to show, and are more anxious to
+prevent unjust aspersions from lighting on yourself, than to rescue a
+fellow-creature from guilt and infamy.
+
+"You are rich, and abound in all the conveniences and luxuries of life.
+A small portion of your superfluity would obviate the wants of a being
+not less worthy than yourself. It is not avarice or aversion to labour
+that makes you withhold your hand. It is dread of the sneers and
+surmises of malevolence and ignorance.
+
+"I will not urge you further at present. Your determination to be wise
+should not be hasty. Think upon the subject calmly and sedately, and
+form your resolution in the course of three days. At the end of that
+period I will visit you again." So saying, and without waiting for
+comment or answer, I withdrew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+
+I mounted the stage-coach at daybreak the next day, in company with a
+sallow Frenchman from St. Domingo, his fiddle-case, an ape, and two
+female blacks. The Frenchman, after passing the suburbs, took out his
+violin and amused himself with humming to his own _tweedle-tweedle_. The
+monkey now and then munched an apple, which was given to him from a
+basket by the blacks, who gazed with stupid wonder, and an exclamatory
+_La! La!_ upon the passing scenery, or chattered to each other in a sort
+of open-mouthed, half-articulate, monotonous, singsong jargon.
+
+The man looked seldom either on this side or that; and spoke only to
+rebuke the frolics of the monkey, with a "Tenez! Dominique! Prenez
+garde! Diable noir!"
+
+As to me, my thought was busy in a thousand ways. I sometimes gazed at
+the faces of my _four_ companions, and endeavoured to discern the
+differences and samenesses between them. I took an exact account of the
+features, proportions, looks, and gestures of the monkey, the Congolese,
+and the Creole Gaul. I compared them together, and examined them apart.
+I looked at them in a thousand different points of view, and pursued,
+untired and unsatiated, those trains of reflections which began at each
+change of tone, feature, and attitude.
+
+I marked the country as it successively arose before me, and found
+endless employment in examining the shape and substance of the fence,
+the barn, and the cottage, the aspect of earth and of heaven. How great
+are the pleasures of health and of mental activity!
+
+My chief occupation, however, related to the scenes into which I was
+about to enter. My imaginations were, of course, crude and inadequate;
+and I found an uncommon gratification in comparing realities, as they
+successively occurred, with the pictures which my wayward fancy had
+depicted.
+
+I will not describe my dreams. My proper task is to relate the truth.
+Neither shall I dwell upon the images suggested by the condition of the
+country through which I passed. I will confine myself to mentioning the
+transactions connected with the purpose of my journey.
+
+I reached Baltimore at night. I was not so fatigued but that I could
+ramble through the town. I intended, at present, merely the
+gratification of a stranger's curiosity. My visit to Mrs. Watson and her
+brother I designed should take place on the morrow. The evening of my
+arrival I deemed an unseasonable time.
+
+While roving about, however, it occurred to me, that it might not be
+impolitic to find the way to their habitation even now. My purposes of
+general curiosity would equally be served whichever way my steps were
+bent; and to trace the path to their dwelling would save me the trouble
+of inquiries and interrogations to-morrow.
+
+When I looked forward to an interview with the wife of Watson, and to
+the subject which would be necessarily discussed at that interview, I
+felt a trembling and misgiving at my heart. "Surely," thought I, "it
+will become me to exercise immeasurable circumspection and address; and
+yet how little are these adapted to the impetuosity and candour of my
+nature!
+
+"How am I to introduce myself? What am I to tell her? That I was a sort
+of witness to the murder of her husband? That I received from the hand
+of his assassin the letter which I afterwards transmitted to her? and,
+from the same hands, the bills contained in his girdle?
+
+"How will she start and look aghast! What suspicions will she harbour?
+What inquiries shall be made of me? How shall they be disarmed and
+eluded, or answered? Deep consideration will be necessary before I trust
+myself to such an interview. The coming night shall be devoted to
+reflection upon this subject."
+
+From these thoughts I proceeded to inquiries for the street mentioned in
+the advertisement, where Mrs. Watson was said to reside. The street,
+and, at length, the habitation, was found. Having reached a station
+opposite, I paused and surveyed the mansion. It was a wooden edifice of
+two stories, humble, but neat. You ascended to the door by several stone
+steps. Of the two lower windows, the shutters of one were closed, but
+those of the other were open. Though late in the evening, there was no
+appearance of light or fire within.
+
+Beside the house was a painted fence, through which was a gate leading
+to the back of the building. Guided by the impulse of the moment, I
+crossed the street to the gate, and, lifting the latch, entered the
+paved alley, on one side of which was a paled fence, and on the other
+the house, looking through two windows into the alley.
+
+The first window was dark like those in front; but at the second a light
+was discernible. I approached it, and, looking through, beheld a plain
+but neat apartment, in which parlour, kitchen, and nursery seemed to be
+united. A fire burned cheerfully in the chimney, over which was a
+tea-kettle. On the hearth sat a smiling and playful cherub of a boy,
+tossing something to a black girl who sat opposite, and whose innocent
+and regular features wanted only a different hue to make them beautiful.
+Near it, in a rocking-chair, with a sleeping babe in her lap, sat a
+female figure in plain but neat and becoming attire. Her posture
+permitted half her face to be seen, and saved me from any danger of
+being observed.
+
+This countenance was full of sweetness and benignity, but the sadness
+that veiled its lustre was profound. Her eyes were now fixed upon the
+fire and were moist with the tears of remembrance, while she sung, in
+low and scarcely-audible strains, an artless lullaby.
+
+This spectacle exercised a strange power over my feelings. While
+occupied in meditating on the features of the mother, I was unaware of
+my conspicuous situation. The black girl, having occasion to change her
+situation, in order to reach the ball which was thrown at her, unluckily
+caught a glance of my figure through the glass. In a tone of half
+surprise and half terror, she cried out, "Oh! see dare! a man!"
+
+I was tempted to draw suddenly back, but a second thought showed me the
+impropriety of departing thus abruptly and leaving behind me some alarm.
+I felt a sort of necessity for apologizing for my intrusion into these
+precincts, and hastened to a door that led into the same apartment. I
+knocked. A voice somewhat confused bade me enter. It was not till I
+opened the door and entered the room, that I fully saw in what
+embarrassments I had incautiously involved myself.
+
+I could scarcely obtain sufficient courage to speak, and gave a confused
+assent to the question, "Have you business with me, sir?" She offered me
+a chair, and I sat down. She put the child, not yet awakened, into the
+arms of the black, who kissed it and rocked it in her arms with great
+satisfaction, and, resuming her seat, looked at me with inquisitiveness
+mingled with complacency.
+
+After a moment's pause, I said, "I was directed to this house as the
+abode of Mr. Ephraim Williams. Can he be seen, madam?"
+
+"He is not in town at present. If you will leave a message with me, I
+will punctually deliver it."
+
+The thought suddenly occurred, whether any more was needful than merely
+to leave the bills suitably enclosed, as they already were, in a packet.
+Thus all painful explanations might be avoided, and I might have reason
+to congratulate myself on his seasonable absence. Actuated by these
+thoughts, I drew forth the packet, and put it into her hand, saying, "I
+will leave this in your possession, and must earnestly request you to
+keep it safe until you can deliver it into his own hands."
+
+Scarcely had I said this before new suggestions occurred. Was it right
+to act in this clandestine and mysterious manner? Should I leave these
+persons in uncertainty respecting the fate of a husband and a brother?
+What perplexities, misunderstandings, and suspenses might not grow out
+of this uncertainty? and ought they not to be precluded at any hazard to
+my own safety or good name?
+
+These sentiments made me involuntarily stretch forth my hand to retake
+the packet. This gesture, and other significances in my manners, joined
+to a trembling consciousness in herself, filled my companion with all
+the tokens of confusion and fear. She alternately looked at me and at
+the paper. Her trepidation increased, and she grew pale. These emotions
+were counteracted by a strong effort.
+
+At length she said, falteringly, "I will take good care of them, and
+will give them to my brother."
+
+She rose and placed them in a drawer, after which she resumed her seat.
+
+On this occasion all my wariness forsook me. I cannot explain why my
+perplexity and the trouble of my thoughts were greater upon this than
+upon similar occasions. However it be, I was incapable of speaking, and
+fixed my eyes upon the floor. A sort of electrical sympathy pervaded my
+companion, and terror and anguish were strongly manifested in the
+glances which she sometimes stole at me. We seemed fully to understand
+each other without the aid of words.
+
+This imbecility could not last long. I gradually recovered my composure,
+and collected my scattered thoughts. I looked at her with seriousness,
+and steadfastly spoke:--"Are you the wife of Amos Watson?"
+
+She started:--"I am indeed. Why do you ask? Do you know any thing
+of----?" There her voice failed.
+
+I replied with quickness, "Yes. I am fully acquainted with his destiny."
+
+"Good God!" she exclaimed, in a paroxysm of surprise, and bending
+eagerly forward, "my husband is then alive! This packet is from him.
+Where is he? When have you seen him?"
+
+"'Tis a long time since."
+
+"But where, where is he now? Is he well? Will he return to me?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"Merciful Heaven!" (looking upwards and clasping her hands,) "I thank
+thee at least for his life! But why has he forsaken me? Why will he not
+return?"
+
+"For a good reason," said I, with augmented solemnity, "he will never
+return to thee. Long ago was he laid in the cold grave."
+
+She shrieked; and, at the next moment, sunk in a swoon upon the floor. I
+was alarmed. The two children shrieked, and ran about the room terrified
+and unknowing what they did. I was overwhelmed with somewhat like
+terror, yet I involuntarily raised the mother in my arms, and cast about
+for the means of recalling her from this fit.
+
+Time to effect this had not elapsed, when several persons, apparently
+Mrs. Watson's neighbours, and raised by the outcries of the girls,
+hastily entered the room. They looked at me with mingled surprise and
+suspicion; but my attitude, being not that of an injurer but helper; my
+countenance, which showed the pleasure their entrance, at this critical
+moment, afforded me; and my words, in which I besought their assistance,
+and explained, in some degree, and briefly, the cause of those
+appearances, removed their ill thoughts.
+
+Presently, the unhappy woman, being carried by the new-comers into a
+bedroom adjoining, recovered her sensibility. I only waited for this. I
+had done my part. More information would be useless to her, and not to
+be given by me, at least in the present audience, without embarrassment
+and peril. I suddenly determined to withdraw, and this, the attention of
+the company being otherwise engaged, I did without notice. I returned to
+my inn, and shut myself up in my chamber. Such was the change which,
+undesigned, unforeseen, half an hour had wrought in my situation. My
+cautious projects had perished in their conception. That which I had
+deemed so arduous, to require such circumspect approaches, such
+well-concerted speeches, was done.
+
+I had started up before this woman as if from the pores of the ground. I
+had vanished with the same celerity, but had left her in possession of
+proofs sufficient that I was neither spectre nor demon. "I will visit
+her," said I, "again. I will see her brother, and know the full effect
+of my disclosure. I will tell them all that I myself know. Ignorance
+would be no less injurious to them than to myself; but, first, I will
+see the Maurices."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+
+Next morning I arose betimes, and equipped myself without delay. I had
+eight or ten miles to walk, so far from the town being the residence of
+these people; and I forthwith repaired to their dwelling. The persons
+whom I desired to see were known to me only by name, and by their place
+of abode. It was a mother and her three daughters to whom I now carried
+the means not only of competence but riches; means which they, no doubt,
+had long ago despaired of regaining, and which, among all possible
+messengers, one of my age and guise would be the least suspected of
+being able to restore.
+
+I arrived, through intricate ways, at eleven o'clock, at the house of
+Mrs. Maurice. It was a neat dwelling, in a very fanciful and rustic
+style, in the bosom of a valley, which, when decorated by the verdure
+and blossoms of the coming season, must possess many charms. At present
+it was naked and dreary.
+
+As I approached it, through a long avenue, I observed two female
+figures, walking arm-in-arm and slowly to and fro, in the path in which
+I now was. "These," said I, "are daughters of the family. Graceful,
+well-dressed, fashionable girls they seem at this distance. May they be
+deserving of the good tidings which I bring!" Seeing them turn towards
+the house, I mended my pace, that I might overtake them and request
+their introduction of me to their mother.
+
+As I more nearly approached, they again turned; and, perceiving me, they
+stood as if in expectation of my message. I went up to them.
+
+A single glance, cast at each, made me suspect that they were not
+sisters; but, somewhat to my disappointment, there was nothing highly
+prepossessing in the countenance of either. They were what is every day
+met with, though less embellished by brilliant drapery and turban, in
+markets and streets. An air somewhat haughty, somewhat supercilious,
+lessened still more their attractions. These defects, however, were
+nothing to me.
+
+I inquired, of her that seemed to be the elder of the two, for Mrs.
+Maurice.
+
+"She is indisposed," was the cold reply.
+
+"That is unfortunate. Is it not possible to see her?"
+
+"No;" with still more gravity.
+
+I was somewhat at a loss how to proceed. A pause ensued. At length the
+same lady resumed, "What's your business? You can leave your message
+with me."
+
+"With nobody but her. If she be not _very_ indisposed----"
+
+"She is very indisposed," interrupted she, peevishly. "If you cannot
+leave your message, you may take it back again, for she must not be
+disturbed."
+
+This was a singular reception. I was disconcerted and silent. I knew not
+what to say. "Perhaps," I at last observed, "some other time----"
+
+"No," (with increasing heat,) "no other time. She is more likely to be
+worse than better. Come, Betsy," said she, taking hold of her
+companion's arm; and, hieing into the house, shut the door after her,
+and disappeared. I stood, at the bottom of the steps, confounded at such
+strange and unexpected treatment. I could not withdraw till my purpose
+was accomplished. After a moment's pause, I stepped to the door, and
+pulled the bell. A negro came, of a very unpropitious aspect, and,
+opening the door, looked at me in silence. To my question, Was Mrs.
+Maurice to be seen? he made some answer, in a jargon which I could not
+understand; but his words were immediately followed by an unseen person
+within the house:--"Mrs. Maurice can't be seen by anybody. Come in,
+Cato, and shut the door." This injunction was obeyed by Cato without
+ceremony.
+
+Here was a dilemma! I came with ten thousand pounds in my hands, to
+bestow freely on these people, and such was the treatment I received. "I
+must adopt," said I, "a new mode."
+
+I lifted the latch, without a second warning, and, Cato having
+disappeared, went into a room, the door of which chanced to be open, on
+my right hand. I found within the two females whom I had accosted in the
+portico. I now addressed myself to the younger:--"This intrusion, when I
+have explained the reason of it, will, I hope, be forgiven. I come,
+madam----"
+
+"Yes," interrupted the other, with a countenance suffused by
+indignation, "I know very well whom you come from, and what it is that
+prompts this insolence; but your employer shall see that we have not
+sunk so low as he imagines. Cato! Bob! I say."
+
+"My employer, madam! I see you labour under some great mistake. I have
+no employer. I come from a great distance. I come to bring intelligence
+of the utmost importance to your family. I come to benefit and not to
+injure you."
+
+By this time, Bob and Cato, two sturdy blacks, entered the room. "Turn
+this person," said the imperious lady, regardless of my explanations,
+"out of the house. Don't you hear me?" she continued, observing that
+they looked one upon the other and hesitated.
+
+"Surely, madam," said I, "you are precipitate. You are treating like an
+enemy one who will prove himself your mother's best friend."
+
+"Will you leave the house?" she exclaimed, quite beside herself with
+anger. "Villains! why don't you do as I bid you?"
+
+The blacks looked upon each other, as if waiting for an example. Their
+habitual deference for every thing _white_, no doubt, held their hands
+from what they regarded as a profanation. At last Bob said, in a
+whining, beseeching tone, "Why, missee, massa buckra wanna go for doo,
+dan he winna go fo' wee."
+
+The lady now burst into tears of rage. She held out her hand,
+menacingly. "Will you leave the house?"
+
+"Not willingly," said I, in a mild tone. "I came too far to return with
+the business that brought me unperformed. I am persuaded, madam, you
+mistake my character and my views. I have a message to deliver your
+mother which deeply concerns her and your happiness, if you are her
+daughter. I merely wished to see her, and leave with her a piece of
+important news; news in which her fortune is deeply interested."
+
+These words had a wonderful effect upon the young lady. Her anger was
+checked. "Good God!" she exclaimed, "are you Watson?"
+
+"No; I am only Watson's representative, and come to do all that Watson
+could do if he were present."
+
+She was now importunate to know my business.
+
+"My business lies with Mrs. Maurice. Advertisements, which I have seen,
+direct me to her, and to this house; and to her only shall I deliver my
+message."
+
+"Perhaps," said she, with a face of apology, "I have mistaken you. Mrs.
+Maurice is my mother. She is really indisposed, but I can stand in her
+place on this occasion."
+
+"You cannot represent her in this instance. If I cannot have access to
+her now, I must go; and shall return when you are willing to grant it."
+
+"Nay," replied she, "she is not, perhaps, so very sick but that I will
+go, and see if she will admit you." So saying, she left me for three
+minutes; and, returning, said her mother wished to see me.
+
+I followed up-stairs, at her request; and, entering an ill-furnished
+chamber, found, seated in an arm-chair, a lady seemingly in years, pale,
+and visibly infirm. The lines of her countenance were far from laying
+claim to my reverence. It was too much like the daughter's.
+
+She looked at me, at my entrance, with great eagerness, and said, in a
+sharp tone, "Pray, friend, what is it you want with me? Make haste; tell
+your story, and begone."
+
+"My story is a short one, and easily told. Amos Watson was your agent in
+Jamaica. He sold an estate belonging to you, and received the money."
+
+"He did," said she, attempting ineffectually to rise from her seat, and
+her eyes beaming with a significance that shocked me; "he did, the
+villain, and purloined the money, to the ruin of me and my daughters.
+But if there be justice on earth it will overtake him. I trust I shall
+have the pleasure one day--I hope to hear he's hanged. Well, but go on,
+friend. He _did_ sell it, I tell you."
+
+"He sold it for ten thousand pounds," I resumed, "and invested this sum
+in bills of exchange. Watson is dead. These bills came into my hands. I
+was lately informed, by the public papers, who were the real owners, and
+have come from Philadelphia with no other view than to restore them to
+you. There they are," continued I, placing them in her lap, entire and
+untouched.
+
+She seized the papers, and looked at me and at her daughter, by turns,
+with an air of one suddenly bewildered. She seemed speechless, and,
+growing suddenly more ghastly pale, leaned her head back upon the chair.
+The daughter screamed, and hastened to support the languid parent, who
+difficultly articulated, "Oh, I am sick; sick to death. Put me on the
+bed."
+
+I was astonished and affrighted at this scene. Some of the domestics, of
+both colours, entered, and gazed at me with surprise. Involuntarily I
+withdrew, and returned to the room below, into which I had first
+entered, and which I now found deserted.
+
+I was for some time at a loss to guess at the cause of these
+appearances. At length it occurred to me, that joy was the source of the
+sickness that had seized Mrs. Maurice. The abrupt recovery of what had
+probably been deemed irretrievable would naturally produce this effect
+upon a mind of a certain texture.
+
+I was deliberating whether to stay or go, when the daughter entered the
+room, and, after expressing some surprise at seeing me, whom she
+supposed to have retired, told me that her mother wished to see me again
+before my departure. In this request there was no kindness. All was
+cold, supercilious, and sullen. I obeyed the summons without speaking.
+
+I found Mrs. Maurice seated in her arm-chair, much in her former guise.
+Without desiring me to be seated, or relaxing aught in her asperity of
+looks and tones,--"Pray, friend, how did you _come by_ these papers?"
+
+"I assure you, madam, they were honestly _come by_," answered I,
+sedately and with half a smile; "but, if the whole is there that was
+missing, the mode and time in which they came to me is matter of
+concern only to myself. Is there any deficiency?"
+
+"I am not sure. I don't know much of these matters. There may be less. I
+dare say there is. I shall know that soon. I expect a friend of mine
+every minute who will look them over. I don't doubt you can give a good
+account of yourself."
+
+"I doubt not but I can--to those who have a right to demand it. In this
+case, curiosity must be very urgent indeed before I shall consent to
+gratify it."
+
+"You must know this is a suspicious case. Watson, to-be-sure, embezzled
+the money; to-be-sure, you are his accomplice."
+
+"Certainly," said I, "my conduct, on this occasion, proves that. What I
+have brought to you, of my own accord; what I have restored to you,
+fully and unconditionally, it is plain Watson embezzled, and that I was
+aiding in the fraud. To restore what was never stolen always betrays the
+thief. To give what might be kept without suspicion is, without doubt,
+arrant knavery. To be serious, madam, in coming thus far, for this
+purpose, I have done enough; and must now bid you farewell."
+
+"Nay, don't go yet. I have something more to say to you. My friend, I'm
+sure, will be here presently. There he is;" (noticing a peal upon the
+bell.) "Polly, go down, and see if that's Mr. Somers. If it is, bring
+him up." The daughter went.
+
+I walked to the window absorbed in my own reflections. I was
+disappointed and dejected. The scene before me was the unpleasing
+reverse of all that my fancy, while coming hither, had foreboded. I
+expected to find virtuous indigence and sorrow lifted, by my means, to
+affluence and exultation. I expected to witness the tears of gratitude
+and the caresses of affection. What had I found? Nothing but sordidness,
+stupidity, and illiberal suspicion.
+
+The daughter stayed much longer than the mother's patience could endure.
+She knocked against the floor with her heel. A servant came up. "Where's
+Polly, you slut? It was not you, hussy, that I wanted. It was her."
+
+"She is talking in the parlour with a gentleman."
+
+"Mr. Somers, I suppose; hey, fool? Run with my compliments to him,
+wench. Tell him, please walk up."
+
+"It is not Mr. Somers, ma'am."
+
+"No? Who then, saucebox? What gentleman can have any thing to do with
+Polly?"
+
+"I don't know, ma'am."
+
+"Who said you did, impertinence? Run, and tell her I want her this
+instant."
+
+The summons was not delivered, or Polly did not think proper to obey it.
+Full ten minutes of thoughtful silence on my part, and of muttered
+vexation and impatience on that of the old lady, elapsed before Polly's
+entrance. As soon as she appeared, the mother began to complain bitterly
+of her inattention and neglect; but Polly, taking no notice of her,
+addressed herself to me, and told me that a gentleman below wished to
+see me. I hastened down, and found a stranger, of a plain appearance, in
+the parlour. His aspect was liberal and ingenuous; and I quickly
+collected, from his discourse, that this was the brother-in-law of
+Watson, and the companion of his last voyage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+
+My eyes sparkled with pleasure at this unexpected interview, and I
+willingly confessed my desire to communicate all the knowledge of his
+brother's destiny which I possessed. He told me, that, returning late to
+Baltimore, on the last evening, he found his sister in much agitation
+and distress, which, after a time, she explained to him. She likewise
+put the packets I had left into his hands.
+
+"I leave you to imagine," continued he, "my surprise and curiosity at
+this discovery. I was, of course, impatient to see the bearer of such
+extraordinary tidings. This morning, inquiring for one of your
+appearance at the taverns, I was, at length, informed of your arrival
+yesterday in the stage; of your going out alone in the evening; of your
+subsequent return; and of your early departure this morning.
+Accidentally I lighted on your footsteps; and, by suitable inquiries on
+the road, have finally traced you hither.
+
+"You told my sister her husband was dead. You left with her papers that
+were probably in his possession at the time of his death. I understand
+from Miss Maurice that the bills belonging to her mother have just been
+delivered to her. I presume you have no objection to clear up this
+mystery."
+
+"To you I am anxious to unfold every thing. At this moment, or at any
+time, but the sooner the more agreeable to me, I will do it."
+
+"This," said he, looking around him, "is no place; there is an inn, not
+a hundred yards from this gate, where I have left my horse; will you go
+thither?" I readily consented, and, calling for a private apartment, I
+laid before this man every incident of my life connected with Welbeck
+and Watson; my full, circumstantial, and explicit story appeared to
+remove every doubt which he might have entertained of my integrity.
+
+In Williams I found a plain, good man, of a temper confiding and
+affectionate. My narration being finished, he expressed, by unaffected
+tokens, his wonder and his grief on account of Watson's destiny. To my
+inquiries, which were made with frankness and fervour, respecting his
+own and his sister's condition, he said that the situation of both was
+deplorable till the recovery of this property. They had been saved from
+utter ruin, from beggary and a jail, only by the generosity and lenity
+of his creditors, who did not suffer the suspicious circumstances
+attending Watson's disappearance to outweigh former proofs of his
+probity. They had never relinquished the hopes of receiving some tidings
+of their kinsman.
+
+I related what had just passed in the house of Mrs. Maurice, and
+requested to know from him the history and character of this family.
+
+"They have treated you," he answered, "exactly as any one who knew them
+would have predicted. The mother is narrow, ignorant, bigoted, and
+avaricious. The eldest daughter, whom you saw, resembles the old lady in
+many things. Age, indeed, may render the similitude complete. At
+present, pride and ill-humour are her chief characteristics.
+
+"The youngest daughter has nothing in mind or person in common with her
+family. Where they are irascible, she is patient; where they are
+imperious, she is humble; where they are covetous, she is liberal; where
+they are ignorant and indolent, she is studious and skilful. It is rare,
+indeed, to find a young lady more amiable than Miss Fanny Maurice, or
+who has had more crosses and afflictions to sustain.
+
+"The eldest daughter always extorted the supply of her wants, from her
+parents, by threats and importunities; but the younger could never be
+prevailed upon to employ the same means, and, hence, she suffered
+inconveniences which, to any other girl, born to an equal rank, would
+have been, to the last degree, humiliating and vexatious. To her they
+only afforded new opportunities for the display of her most shining
+virtues,--fortitude and charity. No instance of their sordidness or
+tyranny ever stole a murmur from her. For what they had given, existence
+and a virtuous education, she said they were entitled to gratitude. What
+they withheld was their own, in the use of which they were not
+accountable to her. She was not ashamed to owe her subsistence to her
+own industry, and was only held by the pride of her family--in this
+instance their pride was equal to their avarice--from seeking out some
+lucrative kind of employment. Since the shock which their fortune
+sustained by Watson's disappearance, she has been permitted to pursue
+this plan, and she now teaches music in Baltimore for a living. No one,
+however, in the highest rank, can be more generally respected and
+caressed than she is."
+
+"But will not the recovery of this money make a favourable change in her
+condition?"
+
+"I can hardly tell; but I am inclined to think it will not. It will not
+change her mother's character. Her pride may be awakened anew, and she
+may oblige Miss Fanny to relinquish her new profession, and that will be
+a change to be deplored."
+
+"What good has been done, then, by restoring this money?"
+
+"If pleasure be good, you must have conferred a great deal on the
+Maurices; upon the mother and two of the daughters, at least,--the only
+pleasure, indeed, which their natures can receive. It is less than if
+you had raised them from absolute indigence, which has not been the
+case, since they had wherewithal to live upon besides their Jamaica
+property. But how?" continued Williams, suddenly recollecting himself;
+"have you claimed the reward promised to him who should restore these
+bills?"
+
+"What reward?"
+
+"No less than a thousand dollars. It was publicly promised under the
+hands of Mrs. Maurice and of Hemmings, her husband's executor."
+
+"Really," said I, "that circumstance escaped my attention, and I wonder
+that it did; but is it too late to repair the evil?"
+
+"Then you have no scruple to accept the reward?"
+
+"Certainly not. Could you suspect me of so strange a punctilio as that?"
+
+"Yes; but I know not why. The story you have just finished taught me to
+expect some unreasonable refinement upon that head. To be hired, to be
+bribed, to do our duty is supposed by some to be degrading."
+
+"This is no such bribe to me. I should have acted just as I have done,
+had no recompense been promised. In truth, this has been my conduct, for
+I never once thought of the reward; but, now that you remind me of it, I
+would gladly see it bestowed. To fulfil their engagements, in this
+respect, is no more than justice in the Maurices. To one in my condition
+the money will be highly useful. If these people were poor, or generous
+and worthy, or if I myself were already rich, I might less repine at
+their withholding it; but, things being as they are with them and with
+me, it would, I think, be gross injustice in them to withhold, and in me
+to refuse."
+
+"That injustice," said Williams, "will, on their part, I fear, be
+committed. 'Tis pity you first applied to Mrs. Maurice. Nothing can be
+expected from her avarice, unless it be wrested from her by a lawsuit."
+
+"That is a force which I shall never apply."
+
+"Had you gone first to Hemmings, you might, I think, have looked for
+payment. He is not a mean man. A thousand dollars, he must know, is not
+much to give for forty thousand. Perhaps, indeed, it may not yet be too
+late. I am well known to him, and, if you please, will attend you to him
+in the evening, and state your claim."
+
+I thankfully accepted this offer, and went with him accordingly. I found
+that Hemmings had been with Mrs. Maurice in the course of the day; had
+received from her intelligence of this transaction, and had entertained
+the expectation of a visit from me for this very purpose.
+
+While Williams explained to him the nature of my claim, he scanned me
+with great intentness. His austere and inflexible brow afforded me
+little room to hope for success, and this hopelessness was confirmed by
+his silence and perplexity when Williams had made an end.
+
+"To-be-sure," said he, after some pause, "the contract was explicit.
+To-be-sure, the conditions on Mr. Mervyn's side have been performed.
+Certain it is, the bills are entire and complete, but Mrs. Maurice will
+not consent to do her part, and Mrs. Maurice, to whom the papers were
+presented, is the person by whom, according to the terms of the
+contract, the reward must be paid."
+
+"But Mrs. Maurice, you know, sir, may be legally compelled to pay," said
+Williams.
+
+"Perhaps she may; but I tell you plainly, that she never will do the
+thing without compulsion. Legal process, however, in this case, will
+have other inconveniences besides delay. Some curiosity will naturally
+be excited, as to the history of these papers. Watson disappeared a
+twelvemonth ago. Who can avoid asking, Where have these papers been
+deposited all this while, and how came this person in possession of
+them?"
+
+"That kind of curiosity," said I, "is natural and laudable, and gladly
+would I gratify it. Disclosure or concealment in that case, however,
+would nowise affect my present claim. Whether a bond, legally executed,
+shall be paid, does not depend upon determining whether the payer is
+fondest of boiled mutton or roast beef. Truth, in the first case, has no
+connection with truth in the second. So far from eluding this curiosity,
+so far from studying concealment, I am anxious to publish the truth."
+
+"You are right, to-be-sure," said Hemmings. "Curiosity is a natural, but
+only an incidental, consequence in this case. I have no reason for
+desiring that it should be an unpleasant consequence to you."
+
+"Well, sir," said Williams, "you think that Arthur Mervyn has no remedy
+in this case but the law?"
+
+"Mrs. Maurice, to-be-sure, will never pay but on compulsion. Mervyn
+should have known his own interest better. While his left hand was
+stretched out to give, his right should have been held forth to receive.
+As it is, he must be contented with the aid of law. Any attorney will
+prosecute on condition of receiving _half the sum_ when recovered."
+
+We now rose to take our leave, when Hemmings, desiring us to pause a
+moment, said, "To-be-sure, in the utmost strictness of the terms of our
+promise, the reward was to be paid by the person who received the
+papers; but it must be owned that your claim, at any rate, is
+equitable. I have money of the deceased Mr. Maurice in my hands. These
+very bills are now in my possession. I will therefore pay you your due,
+and take the consequences of an act of justice on myself. I was prepared
+for you. Sign that receipt, and there is a _check_ for the amount."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+
+This unexpected and agreeable decision was accompanied by an invitation
+to supper, at which we were treated by our host with much affability and
+kindness. Finding me the author of Williams's good fortune as well as
+Mrs. Maurice's, and being assured by the former of his entire conviction
+of the rectitude of my conduct, he laid aside all reserve and distance
+with regard to me. He inquired into my prospects and wishes, and
+professed his willingness to serve me.
+
+I dealt with equal unreserve and frankness. "I am poor," said I. "Money
+for my very expenses hither I have borrowed from a friend, to whom I am,
+in other respects, much indebted, and whom I expect to compensate only
+by gratitude and future services.
+
+"In coming hither, I expected only an increase of my debts; to sink
+still deeper into poverty; but happily the issue has made me rich. This
+hour has given me competence, at least."
+
+"What! call you a thousand dollars competence?"
+
+"More than competence. I call it an abundance. My own ingenuity, while I
+enjoy health, will enable me to live. This I regard as a fund, first to
+pay my debts, and next to supply deficiencies occasioned by untoward
+accidents or ill health, during the ensuing three or four years at
+least."
+
+We parted with this new acquaintance at a late hour, and I accepted
+Williams's invitation to pass the time I should spend at Baltimore,
+under his sister's roof. There were several motives for prolonging this
+stay. What I had heard of Miss Fanny Maurice excited strong wishes to be
+personally acquainted with her. This young lady was affectionately
+attached to Mrs. Watson, by whose means my wishes were easily
+accomplished.
+
+I never was in habits of reserve, even with those whom I had no reason
+to esteem. With those who claimed my admiration and affection, it was
+impossible to be incommunicative. Before the end of my second interview,
+both these women were mistresses of every momentous incident of my life,
+and of the whole chain of my feelings and opinions, in relation to every
+subject, and particularly in relation to themselves. Every topic
+disconnected with these is comparatively lifeless and inert.
+
+I found it easy to win their attention, and to render them communicative
+in their turn. As full disclosures as I had made without condition or
+request, my inquiries and example easily obtained from Mrs. Watson and
+Miss Maurice. The former related every event of her youth, and the
+circumstances leading to her marriage. She depicted the character of her
+husband, and the whole train of suspenses and inquietudes occasioned by
+his disappearance. The latter did not hide from me her opinions upon any
+important subject, and made me thoroughly acquainted with her actual
+situation.
+
+This intercourse was strangely fascinating. My heart was buoyed up by a
+kind of intoxication. I now found myself exalted to my genial element,
+and began to taste the delights of existence. In the intercourse of
+ingenuous and sympathetic minds, I found a pleasure which I had not
+previously conceived.
+
+The time flew swiftly away, and a fortnight passed almost before I was
+aware that a day had gone by. I did not forget the friends whom I had
+left behind, but maintained a punctual correspondence with Stevens, to
+whom I imparted all occurrences.
+
+The recovery of my friend's kinsman allowed him in a few days to return
+home. His first object was the consolation and relief of Carlton, whom,
+with much difficulty, he persuaded to take advantage of the laws in
+favour of insolvent debtors. Carlton's only debt was owing to his uncle,
+and, by rendering up every species of property, except his clothes and
+the implements of his trade, he obtained a full discharge. In
+conjunction with his sister, he once more assumed the pen, and, being
+no longer burdened with debts he was unable to discharge, he resumed,
+together with his pen, his cheerfulness. Their mutual industry was
+sufficient for their decent and moderate subsistence.
+
+The chief reason for my hasty return was my anxiety respecting Clemenza
+Lodi. This reason was removed by the activity and benevolence of my
+friend. He paid this unfortunate stranger a visit at Mrs. Villars's.
+Access was easily obtained, and he found her sunk into the deepest
+melancholy. The recent loss of her child, the death of Welbeck, of which
+she was soon apprized, her total dependence upon those with whom she was
+placed, who, however, had always treated her without barbarity or
+indecorum, were the calamities that weighed down her spirits.
+
+My friend easily engaged her confidence and gratitude, and prevailed
+upon her to take refuge under his own roof. Mrs. Wentworth's scruples,
+as well as those of Mrs. Fielding, were removed by his arguments and
+entreaties, and they consented to take upon themselves, and divide
+between them, the care of her subsistence and happiness. They
+condescended to express much curiosity respecting me, and some interest
+in my welfare, and promised to receive me, on my return, on the footing
+of a friend.
+
+With some reluctance, I at length bade my new friends farewell, and
+returned to Philadelphia. Nothing remained, before I should enter on my
+projected scheme of study and employment, under the guidance of Stevens,
+but to examine the situation of Eliza Hadwin with my own eyes, and, if
+possible, to extricate my father from his unfortunate situation.
+
+My father's state had given me the deepest concern. I figured to myself
+his condition, besotted by brutal appetites, reduced to beggary, shut up
+in a noisome prison, and condemned to that society which must foster all
+his depraved propensities. I revolved various schemes for his relief. A
+few hundreds would take him from prison; but how should he be afterwards
+disposed of? How should he be cured of his indolent habits? How should
+he be screened from the contagion of vicious society? By what means,
+consistently with my own wants and the claims of others, should I
+secure to him an acceptable subsistence?
+
+Exhortation and example were vain. Nothing but restraint would keep him
+at a distance from the haunts of brawling and debauchery. The want of
+money would be no obstacle to prodigality and waste. Credit would be
+resorted to as long as it would answer his demand. When that failed, he
+would once more be thrown into a prison; the same means to extricate him
+would have to be repeated, and money be thus put into the pockets of the
+most worthless of mankind, the agents of drunkenness and blasphemy,
+without any permanent advantage to my father, the principal object of my
+charity.
+
+Though unable to fix on any plausible mode of proceeding, I determined,
+at least, to discover his present condition. Perhaps something might
+suggest itself, upon the spot, suited to my purpose. Without delay I
+proceeded to the village of Newtown, and, alighting at the door of the
+prison, inquired for my father.
+
+"Sawny Mervyn you want, I suppose," said the keeper. "Poor fellow! He
+came into limbo in a crazy condition, and has been a burden on my hands
+ever since. After lingering along for some time, he was at last kind
+enough to give us the slip. It is just a week since he drank his last
+pint--and _died_."
+
+I was greatly shocked at this intelligence. It was some time before my
+reason came to my aid, and showed me that this was an event, on the
+whole, and on a disinterested and dispassionate view, not unfortunate.
+The keeper knew not my relation to the deceased, and readily recounted
+the behaviour of the prisoner and the circumstances of his last hours.
+
+I shall not repeat the narrative. It is useless to keep alive the sad
+remembrance. He was now beyond the reach of my charity or pity; and,
+since reflection could answer no beneficial end to him, it was my duty
+to divert my thoughts into different channels, and live henceforth for
+my own happiness and that of those who were within the sphere of my
+influence.
+
+I was now alone in the world, so far as the total want of kindred
+creates solitude. Not one of my blood, nor even of my name, was to be
+found in this quarter of the world. Of my mother's kindred I knew
+nothing. So far as friendship or service might be claimed from them, to
+me they had no existence. I was destitute of all those benefits which
+flow from kindred, in relation to protection, advice, or property. My
+inheritance was nothing. Not a single relic or trinket in my possession
+constituted a memorial of my family. The scenes of my childish and
+juvenile days were dreary and desolate. The fields which I was wont to
+traverse, the room in which I was born, retained no traces of the past.
+They were the property and residence of strangers, who knew nothing of
+the former tenants, and who, as I was now told, had hastened to
+new-model and transform every thing within and without the habitation.
+
+These images filled me with melancholy, which, however, disappeared in
+proportion as I approached the abode of my beloved girl. Absence had
+endeared the image of my _Bess_--I loved to call her so--to my soul. I
+could not think of her without a melting softness at my heart, and tears
+in which pain and pleasure were unaccountably mingled. As I approached
+Curling's house, I strained my sight, in hopes of distinguishing her
+form through the evening dusk.
+
+I had told her of my purpose, by letter. She expected my approach at
+this hour, and was stationed, with a heart throbbing with impatience, at
+the roadside, near the gate. As soon as I alighted, she rushed into my
+arms.
+
+I found my sweet friend less blithesome and contented than I wished. Her
+situation, in spite of the parental and sisterly regards which she
+received from the Curlings, was mournful and dreary to her imagination.
+Rural business was irksome, and insufficient to fill up her time. Her
+life was tiresome, and uniform, and heavy.
+
+I ventured to blame her discontent, and pointed out the advantages of
+her situation. "Whence," said I, "can these dissatisfactions and
+repinings arise?"
+
+"I cannot tell," said she; "I don't know how it is with me. I am always
+sorrowful and thoughtful. Perhaps I think too much of my poor father
+and of Susan; and yet that can't be it, neither, for I think of them but
+seldom; not half as much as I ought, perhaps. I think of nobody almost
+but you. Instead of minding my business, or chatting and laughing with
+Peggy Curling, I love to get by myself,--to read, over and over, your
+letters, or to think how you are employed just then, and how happy I
+should be if I were in Fanny Maurice's place.
+
+"But it is all over now; this visit rewards me for every thing. I wonder
+how I could ever be sullen or mopeful. I will behave better, indeed I
+will, and be always, as now, a most happy girl."
+
+The greater part of three days was spent in the society of my friend, in
+listening to her relation of all that had happened during my absence,
+and in communicating, in my turn, every incident which had befallen
+myself. After this I once more returned to the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+
+I now set about carrying my plan of life into effect. I began with
+ardent zeal and unwearied diligence the career of medical study. I
+bespoke the counsels and instructions of my friend; attended him on his
+professional visits, and acted, in all practicable cases, as his
+substitute. I found this application of time more pleasurable than I had
+imagined. My mind gladly expanded itself, as it were, for the reception
+of new ideas. My curiosity grew more eager in proportion as it was
+supplied with food, and every day added strength to the assurance that I
+was no insignificant and worthless being; that I was destined to be
+_something_ in this scene of existence, and might some time lay claim to
+the gratitude and homage of my fellow men.
+
+I was far from being, however, monopolized by these pursuits. I was
+formed on purpose for the gratification of social intercourse. To love
+and to be loved; to exchange hearts and mingle sentiments with all the
+virtuous and amiable whom my good fortune had placed within the circuit
+of my knowledge, I always esteemed my highest enjoyment and my chief
+duty.
+
+Carlton and his sister, Mrs. Wentworth, and Achsa Fielding, were my most
+valuable associates beyond my own family. With all these my
+correspondence was frequent and unreserved, but chiefly with the latter.
+This lady had dignity and independence, a generous and enlightened
+spirit, beyond what her education had taught me to expect. She was
+circumspect and cautious in her deportment, and was not prompt to make
+advances, or accept them. She withheld her esteem and confidence until
+she had full proof of their being deserved.
+
+I am not sure that her treatment of me was fully conformable to her
+rules. My manners, indeed, as she once told me, she had never met with
+in another. Ordinary rules were so totally overlooked in my behaviour,
+that it seemed impossible for any one who knew me to adhere to them. No
+option was left but to admit my claims to friendship and confidence
+instantly, or to reject them altogether.
+
+I was not conscious of this singularity. The internal and undiscovered
+character of another weighed nothing with me in the question whether
+they should be treated with frankness or reserve. I felt no scruple on
+any occasion to disclose every feeling and every event. Any one who
+could listen found me willing to talk. Every talker found me willing to
+listen. Every one had my sympathy and kindness, _without_ claiming it;
+but I _claimed_ the kindness and sympathy of every one.
+
+Achsa Fielding's countenance bespoke, I thought, a mind worthy to be
+known and to be loved. The first moment I engaged her attention, I told
+her so. I related the little story of my family, spread out before her
+all my reasonings and determinations, my notions of right and wrong, my
+fears and wishes. All this was done with sincerity and fervour, with
+gestures, actions, and looks, in which I felt as if my whole soul was
+visible. Her superior age, sedateness, and prudence, gave my deportment
+a filial freedom and affection, and I was fond of calling her "_mamma_."
+
+I particularly dwelt upon the history of my dear country-girl; painted
+her form and countenance; recounted our dialogues, and related all my
+schemes for making her wise, and good, and happy. On these occasions my
+friend would listen to me with the mutest attention. I showed her the
+letters I received, and offered her for her perusal those which I wrote
+in answer, before they were sealed and sent.
+
+On these occasions she would look by turns on my face and away from me.
+A varying hue would play upon her cheek, and her eyes were fuller than
+was common, of meaning.
+
+"Such-and-such," I once said, "are my notions; now, what do _you_
+think?"
+
+"_Think_!" emphatically, and turning somewhat aside, she answered;
+"that you are the most--_strange_ of human creatures."
+
+"But tell me," I resumed, following and searching her averted eyes; "am
+I right? would you do thus? Can you help me to improve my girl? I wish
+you knew the bewitching little creature. How would that heart overflow
+with affection and with gratitude towards you! She should be your
+daughter. No--you are too nearly of an age for that. A sister; her
+_elder_ sister, you should be. _That_, when there is no other relation,
+includes them all. Fond sisters you would be, and I the fond brother of
+you both."
+
+My eyes glistened as I spoke. In truth, I am in that respect a mere
+woman. My friend was more powerfully moved. After a momentary struggle
+she burst into tears.
+
+"Good heaven!" said I, "what ails you? Are you not well?"
+
+Her looks betrayed an unaccountable confusion, from which she quickly
+recovered:--"It was folly to be thus affected. Something ailed me, I
+believe, but it is past. But, come, you want some lines of finishing the
+description of the _Boa_ in La Cepide."
+
+"True. And I have twenty minutes to spare. Poor Franks is very ill
+indeed, but he cannot be seen till nine. We'll read till then."
+
+Thus on the wings of pleasure and improvement passed my time; not
+without some hues, occasionally, of a darker tint. My heart was now and
+then detected in sighing. This occurred when my thoughts glanced at the
+poor Eliza, and measured, as it were, the interval between us. "We are
+too--_too_ far apart," thought I.
+
+The best solace on these occasions was the company of Mrs. Fielding; her
+music, her discourse, or some book which she set me to rehearsing to
+her. One evening, when preparing to pay her a visit, I received the
+following letter from my Bess:--
+
+ _To A. Mervyn._
+
+ CURLING'S, May 6, 1794.
+
+Where does this letter you promised me stay all this while? Indeed,
+Arthur, you torment me more than I deserve, and more than I could ever
+find it in my heart to do you. You treat me cruelly. I must say so,
+though I offend you. I must write, though you do not deserve that I
+should, and though I fear I am in a humour not very fit for writing. I
+had better go to my chamber and weep; weep at your--_unkindness_, I was
+going to say; but, perhaps, it is only forgetfulness; and yet what can
+be more unkind than forgetfulness? I am sure I have never forgotten you.
+Sleep itself, which wraps all other images in forgetfulness, only brings
+you nearer, and makes me see you more distinctly.
+
+But where can this letter stay?--Oh! that--hush! foolish girl! If a word
+of that kind escape thy lips, Arthur will be angry with thee; and then,
+indeed, thou mightest weep in earnest. _Then_ thou wouldst have some
+cause for thy tears. More than once already has he almost broken thy
+heart with his reproaches. Sore and weak as it now is, any new
+reproaches would assuredly break it quite.
+
+I _will_ be content. I will be as good a housewife and dairywoman, stir
+about as briskly, and sing as merrily, as Peggy Curling. Why not? I am
+as young, as innocent, and enjoy as good health. Alas! she has reason to
+be merry. She has father, mother, brothers; but I have none. And he that
+was all these, and more than all these, to me, has--_forgotten_ me.
+
+But, perhaps, it is some accident that hinders. Perhaps Oliver left the
+market earlier than he used to do; or you mistook the house; or perhaps
+some poor creature was sick, was taken suddenly ill, and you were busy
+in chafing his clay-cold limbs; it fell to you to wipe the clammy drops
+from his brow. Such things often happen (don't they, Arthur?) to people
+of your trade, and some such thing has happened now; and that was the
+reason you did not write.
+
+And if so, shall I repine at your silence? Oh no! At such a time the
+poor Bess might easily be, and ought to be, forgotten. She would not
+deserve your love if she could repine at a silence brought about this
+way.
+
+And oh! may it be so! May there be nothing worse than this! If the sick
+man--see, Arthur, how my hand trembles. Can you read this scrawl? What
+is always bad, my fears make worse than ever.
+
+I must not think that. And yet, if it be so, if my friend himself be
+sick, what will become of me? Of me, that ought to cherish you and
+comfort you; that ought to be your nurse. Endure for you your sickness,
+when she cannot remove it.
+
+Oh! that----I _will_ speak out--Oh that this strange scruple had never
+possessed you! Why should I _not_ be with you? Who can love you and
+serve you as well as I? In sickness and health, I will console and
+assist you. Why will you deprive yourself of such a comforter and such
+an aid as I would be to you?
+
+Dear Arthur, think better of it. Let me leave this dreary spot, where,
+indeed, as long as I am thus alone, I can enjoy no comfort. Let me come
+to you. I will put up with any thing for the sake of seeing you, though
+it be but once a day. Any garret or cellar in the dirtiest lane or
+darkest alley will be good enough for me. I will think it a palace, so
+that I can _but_ see you now and then.
+
+Do not refuse--do not argue with me, so fond you always are of arguing!
+My heart is set upon your compliance. And yet, dearly as I prize your
+company, I would not ask it, if I thought there was any thing improper.
+You say there is, and you talk about it in a way that I do not
+understand. For my sake, you tell me, you refuse; but let me entreat you
+to comply for my sake.
+
+Your pen cannot teach me like your tongue. You write me long letters,
+and tell me a great deal in them; but my soul droops when I call to mind
+your voice and your looks, and think how long a time must pass before I
+see you and hear you again. I have no spirit to think upon the words and
+paper before me. My eye and my thought wander far away.
+
+I bethink me how many questions I might ask you; how many doubts you
+might clear up if you were but within hearing. If you were but close to
+me; but I cannot ask them here. I am too poor a creature at the pen,
+and, somehow or another, it always happens, I can only write about
+myself or about you. By the time I have said all this, I have tired my
+fingers, and when I set about telling you how this poem and that story
+have affected me, I am at a loss for words; I am bewildered and bemazed,
+as it were.
+
+It is not so when we talk to one another. With your arm about me, and
+your sweet face close to mine, I can prattle forever. Then my heart
+overflows at my lips. After hours thus spent, it seems as if there were
+a thousand things still to be said. Then I can tell you what the book
+has told me. I can repeat scores of verses by heart, though I heard them
+only once read; but it is because _you_ have read them to me.
+
+Then there is nobody here to answer my questions. They never look into
+books. They hate books. They think it waste of time to read. Even Peggy,
+who you say has naturally a strong mind, wonders what I can find to
+amuse myself in a book. In her playful mood, she is always teasing me to
+lay it aside.
+
+I do not mind her, for I like to read; but, if I did not like it before,
+I could not help doing so ever since you told me that nobody could gain
+your love who was not fond of books. And yet, though I like it on that
+account more than I did, I don't read somehow so earnestly and
+understand so well as I used to do when my mind was all at ease, always
+frolicsome, and ever upon _tiptoe_, as I may say.
+
+How strangely (have you not observed it?) I am altered of late!--I, that
+was ever light of heart, the very soul of gayety, brimfull of glee, am
+now demure as our old _tabby_--and not half as wise. Tabby had wit
+enough to keep her paws out of the coals, whereas poor I have--but no
+matter what. It will never come to pass, I see that. So many reasons for
+every thing! Such looking forward! Arthur, are not men sometimes too
+_wise_ to be happy?
+
+I am now _so_ grave. Not one smile can Peggy sometimes get from me,
+though she tries for it the whole day. But I know how it comes. Strange,
+indeed, if, losing father and sister, and thrown upon the wide world,
+penniless and _friendless_ too, now that _you_ forget me, I should
+continue to smile. No. I never shall smile again. At least, while I stay
+here, I never shall, I believe.
+
+If a certain somebody suffer me to live with him,--_near_ him, I
+mean,--perhaps the sight of him as he enters the door, perhaps the sound
+of his voice, asking, "Where is my Bess?" might produce a smile. Such a
+one as the very thought produces now,--yet not, I hope, so transient,
+and so quickly followed by a tear. Women are born, they say, to trouble,
+and tears are given them for their relief. 'Tis all very true.
+
+Let it be as I wish, will you? If Oliver bring not back good tidings, if
+he bring not a letter from thee, or thy letter still refuses my
+request,--I don't know what may happen. Consent, if you love your poor
+girl.
+
+ E.H.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+
+The reading of this letter, though it made me mournful, did not hinder
+me from paying the visit I intended. My friend noticed my discomposure.
+
+"What, Arthur! thou art quite the 'penseroso' to-night. Come, let me
+cheer thee with a song. Thou shalt have thy favourite ditty." She
+stepped to the instrument, and, with more than airy lightness, touched
+and sung:--
+
+ "Now knit hands and beat the ground
+ In a light, fantastic round,
+ Till the telltale sun descry
+ Our conceal'd solemnity."
+
+Her music, though blithsome and aerial, was not sufficient for the end.
+My cheerfulness would not return even at her bidding. She again noticed
+my sedateness, and inquired into the cause.
+
+"This girl of mine," said I, "has infected me with her own sadness.
+There is a letter I have just received." She took it and began to read.
+
+Meanwhile, I placed myself before her, and fixed my eyes steadfastly
+upon her features. There is no book in which I read with more pleasure
+than the face of woman. _That_ is generally more full of meaning, and of
+better meaning too, than the hard and inflexible lineaments of man; and
+_this_ woman's face has no parallel.
+
+She read it with visible emotion. Having gone through it, she did not
+lift her eye from the paper, but continued silent, as if buried in
+thought. After some time, (for I would not interrupt the pause,) she
+addressed me thus:--
+
+"This girl seems to be very anxious to be with you."
+
+"As much as I am that she should be so." My friend's countenance
+betrayed some perplexity. As soon as I perceived it, I said, "Why are
+you thus grave?" Some little confusion appeared, as if she would not
+have her gravity discovered. "There again," said I, "new tokens in your
+face, my good mamma, of something which you will not mention. Yet, sooth
+to say, this is not your first perplexity. I have noticed it before, and
+wondered. It happens only when my _Bess_ is introduced. Something in
+relation to her it must be, but what I cannot imagine. Why does _her_
+name, particularly, make you thoughtful, disturbed, dejected? There
+now--but I must know the reason. You don't agree with me in my notions
+of this girl, I fear, and you will not disclose your thoughts."
+
+By this time, she had gained her usual composure, and, without noticing
+my comments on her looks, said, "Since you are both of one mind, why
+does she not leave the country?"
+
+"That cannot be, I believe. Mrs. Stevens says it would be disreputable.
+I am no proficient in etiquette, and must, therefore, in affairs of this
+kind, be guided by those who are. But would to heaven I were truly her
+father or brother! Then all difficulties would be done away."
+
+"Can you seriously wish that?"
+
+"Why, no. I believe it would be more rational to wish that the world
+would suffer me to act the fatherly or brotherly part, without the
+relationship."
+
+"And is that the only part you wish to act towards this girl?"
+
+"Certainly, the only part."
+
+"You surprise me. Have you not confessed your love for her?"
+
+"I _do_ love her. There is nothing upon earth more dear to me than my
+_Bess_."
+
+"But love is of different kinds. She was loved by her father----"
+
+"Less than by me. He was a good man, but not of lively feelings.
+Besides, he had another daughter, and they shared his love between them;
+but she has no sister to share _my_ love. Calamity, too, has endeared
+her to me; I am all her consolation, dependence, and hope, and nothing,
+surely, can induce me to abandon her."
+
+"Her reliance upon you for happiness," replied my friend, with a sigh,
+"is plain enough."
+
+"It is; but why that sigh? And yet I understand it. It remonstrates with
+me on my incapacity for her support. I know it well, but it is wrong to
+be cast down. I have youth, health, and spirits, and ought not to
+despair of living for my own benefit and hers; but you sigh again, and
+it is impossible to keep my courage when _you_ sigh. Do tell me what you
+mean by it."
+
+"You partly guessed the cause. She trusts to you for happiness, but I
+somewhat suspect she trusts in vain."
+
+"In vain! I beseech you, tell me why you think so."
+
+"You say you love her: why then not make her your wife?"
+
+"My wife! Surely her extreme youth, and my destitute condition, will
+account for that."
+
+"She is fifteen; the age of delicate fervour, of inartificial love, and
+suitable enough for marriage. As to your condition, you may live more
+easily together than apart. She has no false taste or perverse desires
+to gratify. She has been trained in simple modes and habits. Besides,
+that objection can be removed another way. But are these all your
+objections?"
+
+"Her youth I object to, merely in connection with her mind. She is too
+little improved to be my wife. She wants that solidity of mind, that
+maturity of intelligence which ten years more may possibly give her, but
+which she cannot have at this age."
+
+"You are a very prudential youth: then you are willing to wait ten years
+for a wife?"
+
+"Does that follow? Because my Bess will not be qualified for wedlock in
+less time, does it follow that I must wait for her?"
+
+"I spoke on the supposition that you loved her."
+
+"And that is true; but love is satisfied with studying her happiness as
+her father or brother. Some years hence, perhaps in half a year, (for
+this passion, called wedded or _marriage-wishing_ love, is of sudden
+growth,) my mind may change and nothing may content me but to have Bess
+for my wife. Yet I do not expect it."
+
+"Then you are determined against marriage with this girl?"
+
+"Of course; until that love comes which I feel not now; but which, no
+doubt, will come, when Bess has had the benefit of five or eight years
+more, unless previously excited by another."
+
+"All this is strange, Arthur. I have heretofore supposed that you
+actually loved (I mean with the _marriage-seeking_ passion) your
+_Bess_."
+
+"I believe I once did; but it happened at a time when marriage was
+improper; in the life of her father and sister, and when I had never
+known in what female excellence consisted. Since that time my happier
+lot has cast me among women so far above Eliza Hadwin,--so far above,
+and so widely different from any thing which time is likely to make
+her,--that, I own, nothing appears more unlikely than that I shall ever
+love her."
+
+"Are you not a little capricious in that respect, my good friend? You
+have praised your _Bess_ as rich in natural endowments; as having an
+artless purity and rectitude of mind, which somewhat supersedes the use
+of formal education; as being full of sweetness and tenderness, and in
+her person a very angel of loveliness."
+
+"All that is true. I never saw features and shape so delicately
+beautiful; I never knew so young a mind so quick-sighted and so firm;
+but, nevertheless, she is not the creature whom I would call my _wife_.
+My bosom-slave; counsellor; friend; the mother; the pattern; the
+tutoress of my children, must be a different creature."
+
+"But what are the attributes of this _desirable_ which Bess wants?"
+
+"Every thing she wants. Age, capacity, acquirements, person, features,
+hair, complexion, all, all are different from this girl's."
+
+"And pray of what kind may they be?"
+
+"I cannot portray them in words--but yes, I can:--The creature whom I
+shall worship:--it sounds oddly, but, I verily believe, the sentiment
+which I shall feel for my wife will be more akin to worship than any
+thing else. I shall never love but such a creature as I now image to
+myself, and _such_ a creature will deserve, or almost deserve, worship.
+But this creature, I was going to say, must be the exact counterpart, my
+good mamma--of _yourself_."
+
+This was said very earnestly, and with eyes and manner that fully
+expressed my earnestness; perhaps my expressions were unwittingly strong
+and emphatic, for she started and blushed, but the cause of her
+discomposure, whatever it was, was quickly removed, and she said,--
+
+"Poor Bess! This will be sad news to thee!"
+
+"Heaven forbid!" said I; "of what moment can my opinions be to her?"
+
+"Strange questioner that thou art. Thou knowest that her gentle heart is
+touched with love. See how it shows itself in the tender and inimitable
+strain of this epistle. Does not this sweet ingenuousness bewitch you?"
+
+"It does so, and I love, beyond expression, the sweet girl; but my love
+is, in some inconceivable way, different from the passion which that
+_other_ creature will produce. She is no stranger to my thoughts. I will
+impart every thought over and over to her. I question not but I shall
+make her happy without forfeiting my own."
+
+"Would marriage with her be a forfeiture of your happiness?"
+
+"Not absolutely or forever, I believe. I love her company. Her absence
+for a long time is irksome. I cannot express the delight with which I
+see and hear her. To mark her features, beaming with vivacity; playful
+in her pleasures; to hold her in my arms, and listen to her prattle,
+always musically voluble, always sweetly tender, or artlessly
+intelligent--and this you will say is the dearest privilege of marriage;
+and so it is; and dearly should I prize it; and yet, I fear my heart
+would droop as often as that _other_ image should occur to my fancy. For
+then, you know, it would occur as something never to be possessed by me.
+
+"Now, this image might, indeed, seldom occur. The intervals, at least,
+would be serene. It would be my interest to prolong these intervals as
+much as possible, and my endeavours to this end would, no doubt, have
+some effect. Besides, the bitterness of this reflection would be
+lessened by contemplating, at the same time, the happiness of my beloved
+girl.
+
+"I should likewise have to remember, that to continue unmarried would
+not necessarily secure me the possession of the _other_ good----"
+
+"But these reflections, my friend," (broke she in upon me,) "are of as
+much force to induce you to marry, as to reconcile you to a marriage
+already contracted."
+
+"Perhaps they are. Assuredly, I have not a hope that the _fancied_
+excellence will ever be mine. Such happiness is not the lot of humanity,
+and is, least of all, within my reach."
+
+"Your diffidence," replied my friend, in a timorous accent, "has not
+many examples; but your character, without doubt, is all your own,
+possessing all and disclaiming all,--is, in few words, your picture."
+
+"I scarcely understand you. Do you think I ever shall be happy to that
+degree which I have imagined? Think you I shall ever meet with an exact
+copy of _yourself_?"
+
+"Unfortunate you will be, if you do not meet with many better. Your
+Bess, in personals, is, beyond measure, _my_ superior, and in mind,
+allowing for difference in years, quite as much so."
+
+"But that," returned I, with quickness and fervour, "is not the object.
+The very counterpart of _you_ I want; neither worse nor better, nor
+different in any thing. Just such form, such features, such hues. Just
+that melting voice, and, above all, the same habits of thinking and
+conversing. In thought, word, and deed; gesture, look, and form, that
+rare and precious creature whom I shall love must be your resemblance.
+Your----"
+
+"Have done with these comparisons," interrupted she, in some hurry, "and
+let us return to the country-girl, thy Bess.
+
+"You once, my friend, wished me to treat this girl of yours as my
+sister. Do you know what the duties of a sister are?"
+
+"They imply no more kindness or affection than you already feel towards
+my Bess. Are you not her sister?"
+
+"I ought to have been so. I ought to have been proud of the relation you
+ascribe to me, but I have not performed any of its duties. I blush to
+think upon the coldness and perverseness of my heart. With such means as
+I possess, of giving happiness to others, I have been thoughtless and
+inactive to a strange degree; perhaps, however, it is not yet too late.
+Are you still willing to invest me with all the rights of an elder
+sister over this girl? And will she consent, think you?"
+
+"Certainly she will; she has."
+
+"Then the first act of sistership will be to take her from the country;
+from persons on whose kindness she has no natural claim, whose manners
+and characters are unlike her own, and with whom no improvement can be
+expected, and bring her back to her sister's house and bosom, to provide
+for her subsistence and education, and watch over her happiness.
+
+"I will not be a nominal sister. I will not be a sister by halves. _All_
+the rights of that relation I will have, or none. As for you, you have
+claims upon her on which I must be permitted to judge, as becomes the
+elder sister, who, by the loss of all other relations, must occupy the
+place, possess the rights, and fulfil the duties, of father, mother, and
+brother.
+
+"She has now arrived at an age when longer to remain in a cold and
+churlish soil will stunt her growth and wither her blossoms. We must
+hasten to transplant her to a genial element and a garden well enclosed.
+Having so long neglected this charming plant, it becomes me henceforth
+to take her wholly to myself.
+
+"And now, for it is no longer in her or your power to take back the
+gift, since she is fully mine, I will charge you with the office of
+conducting her hither. I grant it you as a favour. Will you go?"
+
+"Go! I will fly!" I exclaimed, in an ecstasy of joy, "on pinions swifter
+than the wind. Not the lingering of an instant will I bear. Look! one,
+two, three--thirty minutes after nine. I will reach Curling's gate by
+the morn's dawn. I will put my girl into a chaise, and by noon she
+shall throw herself into the arms of her sister. But first, shall I not,
+in some way, manifest my gratitude?"
+
+My senses were bewildered, and I knew not what I did. I intended to
+kneel, as to my mother or my deity; but, instead of that, I clasped her
+in my arms, and kissed her lips fervently. I stayed not to discover the
+effects of this insanity, but left the room and the house, and, calling
+for a moment at Stevens's, left word with the servant, my friend being
+gone abroad, that I should not return till the morrow.
+
+Never was a lighter heart, a gayety more overflowing and more buoyant,
+than mine. All cold from a boisterous night, at a chilly season, all
+weariness from a rugged and miry road, were charmed away. I might have
+ridden; but I could not brook delay, even the delay of inquiring for and
+equipping a horse. I might thus have saved myself fatigue, and have lost
+no time; but my mind was in too great a tumult for deliberation and
+forecast. I saw nothing but the image of my girl, whom my tidings would
+render happy.
+
+The way was longer than my fond imagination had foreseen. I did not
+reach Curling's till an hour after sunrise. The distance was full
+thirty-five miles. As I hastened up the green lane leading to the house,
+I spied my Bess passing through a covered way, between the dwelling and
+kitchen. I caught her eye. She stopped and held up her hands, and then
+ran into my arms.
+
+"What means my girl? Why this catching of the breath? Why this sobbing?
+Look at me, my love. It is Arthur,--he who has treated you with
+forgetfulness, neglect, and cruelty."
+
+"Oh, do not," she replied, hiding her face with her hand. "One single
+reproach, added to my own, will kill me. That foolish, wicked letter--I
+could tear my fingers for writing it."
+
+"But," said I, "I will kiss them;" and put them to my lips. "They have
+told me the wishes of my girl. They have enabled me to gratify her
+wishes. I have come to carry thee this very moment to town."
+
+"Lord bless me, Arthur," said she, lost in a sweet confusion, and her
+cheeks, always glowing, glowing still more deeply, "indeed, I did not
+mean----I meant only----I will stay here----I would rather stay----"
+
+"It grieves me to hear that," said I, with earnestness; "I thought I was
+studying our mutual happiness."
+
+"It grieves you? Don't say so. I would not grieve you for the world;
+but, indeed, indeed, it is too soon. Such a girl as I am not yet fit
+to--live in your city." Again she hid her glowing face in my bosom.
+
+"Sweet consciousness! Heavenly innocence!" thought I; "may Achsa's
+conjectures prove false!--You have mistaken my design, for I do not
+intend to carry you to town with such a view as you have hinted; but
+merely to place you with a beloved friend, with Achsa Fielding, of whom
+already you know so much, where we shall enjoy each other's company
+without restraint or intermission."
+
+I then proceeded to disclose to her the plan suggested by my friend, and
+to explain all the consequences that would flow from it. I need not say
+that she assented to the scheme. She was all rapture and gratitude.
+Preparations for departure were easily and speedily made. I hired a
+chaise of a neighbouring farmer, and, according to my promise, by noon
+the same day, delivered the timid and bashful girl into the arms of her
+new sister.
+
+She was received with the utmost tenderness, not only by Mrs. Fielding,
+but by all my friends. Her affectionate heart was encouraged to pour
+forth all its feeling as into the bosom of a mother. She was reinspired
+with confidence. Her want of experience was supplied by the gentlest
+admonitions and instructions. In every plan for her improvement
+suggested by her new _mamma_, (for she never called her by any other
+name,) she engaged with docility and eagerness; and her behaviour and
+her progress exceeded the most sanguine hopes that I had formed as to
+the softness of her temper and the acuteness of her genius.
+
+Those graces which a polished education, and intercourse with the better
+classes of society, are adapted to give, my girl possessed, in some
+degree, by a native and intuitive refinement and sagacity of mind. All
+that was to be obtained from actual observation and instruction was
+obtained without difficulty; and in a short time nothing but the
+affectionate simplicity and unperverted feelings of the country-girl
+bespoke the original condition.
+
+"What art so busy about, Arthur? Always at thy pen of late. Come, I must
+know the fruit of all this toil and all this meditation. I am determined
+to scrape acquaintance with Haller and Linnæus. I will begin this very
+day. All one's friends, you know, should be ours. Love has made many a
+patient, and let me see if it cannot, in my case, make a physician. But,
+first, what is all this writing about?"
+
+"Mrs. Wentworth has put me upon a strange task,--not disagreeable,
+however, but such as I should, perhaps, have declined, had not the
+absence of my Bess, and her mamma, made the time hang somewhat heavy. I
+have, oftener than once, and far more circumstantially than now, told
+her my adventures, but she is not satisfied. She wants a written
+narrative, for some purpose which she tells me she will disclose to me
+hereafter.
+
+"Luckily, my friend Stevens has saved me more than half the trouble. He
+has done me the favour to compile much of my history with his own hand.
+I cannot imagine what could prompt him to so wearisome an undertaking;
+but he says that adventures and a destiny so singular as mine ought not
+to be abandoned to forgetfulness like any vulgar and _every-day_
+existence. Besides, when he wrote it, he suspected that it might be
+necessary to the safety of my reputation and my life, from the
+consequences of my connection with Welbeck. Time has annihilated that
+danger. All enmities and all suspicions are buried with that ill-fated
+wretch. Wortley has been won by my behaviour, and confides in my
+integrity now as much as he formerly suspected it. I am glad, however,
+that the task was performed. It has saved me a world of writing. I had
+only to take up the broken thread, and bring it down to the period of my
+present happiness; and this was done, just as you tripped along the
+entry this morning.
+
+"To bed, my friend; it is late, and this delicate frame is not half so
+able to encounter fatigue as a youth spent in the hay-field and the
+dairy might have been expected to be."
+
+"I will, but let me take these sheets along with me. I will read them,
+that I am determined, before I sleep, and watch if you have told the
+whole truth."
+
+"Do so, if you please; but remember one thing. Mrs. Wentworth requested
+me to write not as if it were designed for her perusal, but for those
+who have no previous knowledge of her or of me. 'Twas an odd request. I
+cannot imagine what she means by it; but she never acts without good
+reason, and I have done so. And now, withdraw, my dear, and farewell."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+
+Move on, my quill! wait not for my guidance. Reanimated with thy
+master's spirit, all airy light! A heyday rapture! A mounting impulse
+sways him: lifts him from the earth.
+
+I must, cost what it will, rein in this upward-pulling,
+forward-going--what shall I call it? But there are times, and now is one
+of them, when words are poor.
+
+It will not do--down this hill, up that steep; through this thicket,
+over that hedge--I have _laboured_ to fatigue myself: to reconcile me to
+repose; to lolling on a sofa; to poring over a book, to any thing that
+might win for my heart a respite from these throbs; to deceive me into a
+few _tolerable_ moments of forgetfulness.
+
+Let me see; they tell me this is Monday night. Only three days yet to
+come! If thus restless to-day; if my heart thus bounds till its mansion
+scarcely can hold it, what must be my state to-morrow! What next day!
+What as the hour hastens on; as the sun descends; as my hand touches
+hers in sign of wedded unity, of love without interval; of concord
+without end!
+
+I must quell these tumults. They will disable me else. They will wear
+out all my strength. They will drain away life itself. But who could
+have thought! So soon! Not three months since I first set eyes upon her.
+Not three weeks since our plighted love, and only three days to
+terminate suspense and give me _all_.
+
+I must compel myself to quiet; to sleep. I must find some refuge from
+anticipations so excruciating. All extremes are agonies. A joy like this
+is too big for this narrow tenement. I must thrust it forth; I must bar
+and bolt it out for a time, or these frail walls will burst asunder.
+The pen is a pacifier. It checks the mind's career; it circumscribes her
+wanderings. It traces out and compels us to adhere to one path. It ever
+was my friend. Often it has blunted my vexations; hushed my stormy
+passions; turned my peevishness to soothing; my fierce revenge to
+heart-dissolving pity.
+
+Perhaps it will befriend me now. It may temper my impetuous wishes; lull
+my intoxication; and render my happiness supportable; and, indeed, it
+has produced partly this effect already. My blood, within the few
+minutes thus employed, flows with less destructive rapidity. My thoughts
+range themselves in less disorder. And, now that the conquest is
+effected, what shall I say? I must continue at the pen, or shall
+immediately relapse.
+
+What shall I say? Let me look back upon the steps that led me hither.
+Let me recount the preliminaries. I cannot do better.
+
+And first as to Achsa Fielding,--to describe this woman.
+
+To recount, in brief, so much of her history as has come to my knowledge
+will best account for that zeal, almost to idolatry, with which she has,
+ever since I thoroughly knew her, been regarded by me.
+
+Never saw I one to whom the term _lovely_ more truly belonged. And yet
+in stature she is too low; in complexion dark and almost sallow; and her
+eyes, though black and of piercing lustre, have a cast which I cannot
+well explain. It lessens without destroying their lustre and their force
+to charm; but all personal defects are outweighed by her heart and her
+intellect. There is the secret of her power to entrance the soul of the
+listener and beholder. It is not only when she sings that her utterance
+is musical. It is not only when the occasion is urgent and the topic
+momentous that her eloquence is rich and flowing. They are always so.
+
+I had vowed to love her and serve her, and been her frequent visitant,
+long before I was acquainted with her past life. I had casually picked
+up some intelligence, from others, or from her own remarks. I knew very
+soon that she was English by birth, and had been only a year and a half
+in America; that she had scarcely passed her twenty-fifth year, and was
+still embellished with all the graces of youth; that she had been a
+wife; but was uninformed whether the knot had been untied by death or
+divorce; that she possessed considerable, and even splendid, fortune;
+but the exact amount, and all besides these particulars, were unknown to
+me till some time after our acquaintance was begun.
+
+One evening she had been talking very earnestly on the influence
+annexed, in Great Britain, to birth, and had given me some examples of
+this influence. Meanwhile my eyes were fixed steadfastly on hers. The
+peculiarity in their expression never before affected me so strongly. A
+vague resemblance to something seen elsewhere, on the same day,
+occurred, and occasioned me to exclaim, suddenly, in a pause of her
+discourse,--
+
+"As I live, my good mamma, those eyes of yours have told me a secret. I
+almost think they spoke to me; and I am not less amazed at the
+strangeness than at the distinctness of their story."
+
+"And, pr'ythee, what have they said?"
+
+"Perhaps I was mistaken. I might have been deceived by a fancied voice,
+or have confounded one word with another near akin to it; but let me die
+if I did not think they said that you were--_a Jew_."
+
+At this sound, her features were instantly veiled with the deepest
+sorrow and confusion. She put her hand to her eyes, the tears started,
+and she sobbed. My surprise at this effect of my words was equal to my
+contrition. I besought her to pardon me for having thus unknowingly
+alarmed and grieved her.
+
+After she had regained some composure, she said, "You have not offended,
+Arthur. Your surmise was just and natural, and could not always have
+escaped you. Connected with that word are many sources of anguish, which
+time has not, and never will, dry up; and the less I think of past
+events the less will my peace be disturbed. I was desirous that you
+should know nothing of me but what you see; nothing but the present and
+the future, merely that no allusions might occur in our conversation
+which will call up sorrows and regrets that will avail nothing.
+
+"I now perceive the folly of endeavouring to keep you in ignorance, and
+shall therefore, once for all, inform you of what has befallen me, that
+your inquiries and suggestions may be made and fully satisfied at once,
+and your curiosity have no motive for calling back my thoughts to what I
+ardently desire to bury in oblivion.
+
+"My father was indeed a _Jew_, and one of the most opulent of his nation
+in London,--a Portuguese by birth, but came to London when a boy. He had
+few of the moral or external qualities of Jews; for I suppose there is
+some justice in the obloquy that follows them so closely. He was frugal
+without meanness, and cautious in his dealings, without extortion. I
+need not fear to say this, for it was the general voice.
+
+"Me, an only child, and, of course, the darling of my parents, they
+trained up in the most liberal manner. My education was purely English.
+I learned the same things and of the same masters with my neighbours.
+Except frequenting their church and repeating their creed, and partaking
+of the same food, I saw no difference between them and me. Hence I grew
+more indifferent, perhaps, than was proper, to the distinctions of
+religion. They were never enforced upon me. No pains were taken to fill
+me with scruples and antipathies. They never stood, as I may say, upon
+the threshold. They were often thought upon, but were vague and easily
+eluded or forgotten.
+
+"Hence it was that my heart too readily admitted impressions that more
+zeal and more parental caution would have saved me from. They could
+scarcely be avoided, as my society was wholly English, and my youth, my
+education, and my father's wealth made me an object of much attention.
+And the same causes that lulled to sleep my own watchfulness had the
+same effect upon that of others. To regret or to praise this remissness
+is now too late. Certain it is, that my destiny, and not a happy
+destiny, was fixed by it.
+
+"The fruit of this remissness was a passion for one who fully returned
+it. Almost as young as I, who was only sixteen; he knew as little as
+myself what obstacles the difference of our births was likely to raise
+between us. His father, Sir Ralph Fielding, a man nobly born, high in
+office, splendidly allied, could not be expected to consent to the
+marriage of his eldest son, in such green youth, to the daughter of an
+alien, a Portuguese, a Jew; but these impediments were not seen by my
+ignorance, and were overlooked by the youth's passion.
+
+"But, strange to tell, what common prudence would have so confidently
+predicted did not happen. Sir Ralph had a numerous family, likely to be
+still more so; had but slender patrimony; the income of his offices
+nearly made up his all. The young man was headstrong, impetuous, and
+would probably disregard the inclinations of his family. Yet the father
+would not consent but on one condition,--that of my admission to the
+English Church.
+
+"No very strenuous opposition to these terms could be expected from me.
+At so thoughtless an age, with an education so unfavourable to religious
+impressions; swayed, likewise, by the strongest of human passions; made
+somewhat impatient, by the company I kept, of the disrepute and scorn to
+which the Jewish nation are everywhere condemned, I could not be
+expected to be very averse to the scheme.
+
+"My fears as to what my father's decision would be were soon at an end.
+He loved his child too well to thwart her wishes in so essential a
+point. Finding in me no scruples, no unwillingness, he thought it absurd
+to be scrupulous for me. My own heart having abjured my religion, it was
+absurd to make any difficulty about a formal renunciation. These were
+his avowed reasons for concurrence, but time showed that he had probably
+other reasons, founded, indeed, in his regard for my happiness, but such
+as, if they had been known, would probably have strengthened into
+invincible the reluctance of my lover's family.
+
+"No marriage was ever attended with happier presages. The numerous
+relations of my husband admitted me with the utmost cordiality among
+them. My father's tenderness was unabated by this change, and those
+humiliations to which I had before been exposed were now no more; and
+every tie was strengthened, at the end of a year, by the feelings of a
+_mother_. I had need, indeed, to know a season of happiness, that I
+might be fitted to endure the sad reverses that succeeded. One after the
+other my disasters came, each one more heavy than the last, and in such
+swift succession that they hardly left me time to breathe.
+
+"I had scarcely left my chamber, I had scarcely recovered my usual
+health, and was able to press with true fervour the new and precious
+gift to my bosom, when melancholy tidings came. I was in the country, at
+the seat of my father-in-law, when the messenger arrived.
+
+"A shocking tale it was! and told abruptly, with every unpitying
+aggravation. I hinted to you once my father's death. The _kind_ of
+death--oh! my friend! It was horrible. He was then a placid, venerable
+old man; though many symptoms of disquiet had long before been
+discovered by my mother's watchful tenderness. Yet none could suspect
+him capable of such a deed; for none, so carefully had he conducted his
+affairs, suspected the havoc that mischance had made of his property.
+
+"I, that had so much reason to love my father,--I will leave you to
+imagine how I was affected by a catastrophe so dreadful, so
+unlooked-for. Much less could I suspect the cause of his despair; yet he
+had foreseen his ruin before my marriage; had resolved to defer it, for
+his daughter's and his wife's sake, as long as possible, but had still
+determined not to survive the day that should reduce him to indigence.
+The desperate act was thus preconcerted--thus deliberate.
+
+"The true state of his affairs was laid open by his death. The failure
+of great mercantile houses at Frankfort and Liege was the cause of his
+disasters.
+
+"Thus were my prospects shut in. That wealth which, no doubt, furnished
+the chief inducement with my husband's family to concur in his choice,
+was now suddenly exchanged for poverty.
+
+"Bred up, as I had been, in pomp and luxury; conscious that my wealth
+was my chief security from the contempt of the proud and bigoted, and my
+chief title to the station to which I had been raised, and which I the
+more delighted in because it enabled me to confer so great obligations
+on my husband,--what reverse could be harder than this, and how much
+bitterness was added by it to the grief occasioned by the violent death
+of my father!
+
+"Yet loss of fortune, though it mortified my pride, did not prove my
+worst calamity. Perhaps it was scarcely to be ranked with evils, since
+it furnished a touchstone by which my husband's affections were to be
+tried; especially as the issue of the trial was auspicious; for my
+misfortune seemed only to heighten the interest which my character had
+made for me in the hearts of all that knew me. The paternal regards of
+Sir Ralph had always been tender, but that tenderness seemed now to be
+redoubled.
+
+"New events made this consolation still more necessary. My unhappy
+mother!--She was nearer to the dreadful scene when it happened; had no
+surviving object to beguile her sorrow; was rendered, by long habit,
+more dependent upon fortune than her child.
+
+"A melancholy, always mute, was the first effect upon my mother. Nothing
+could charm her eye, or her ear. Sweet sounds that she once loved, and
+especially when her darling child was the warbler, were heard no longer.
+How, with streaming eyes, have I sat and watched the dear lady, and
+endeavoured to catch her eye, to rouse her attention!--But I must not
+think of these things.
+
+"But even this distress was little in comparison with what was to come.
+A frenzy thus mute, motionless, and vacant, was succeeded by fits,
+talkative, outrageous, requiring incessant superintendence, restraint,
+and even violence.
+
+"Why led you me thus back to my sad remembrances? Excuse me for the
+present. I will tell you the rest some other time; to-morrow."
+
+To-morrow, accordingly, my friend resumed her story.
+
+"Let me now make an end," said she, "of my mournful narrative, and
+never, I charge you, do any thing to revive it again.
+
+"Deep as was my despondency, occasioned by these calamities, I was not
+destitute of some joy. My husband and my child were lovely and
+affectionate. In their caresses, in their welfare, I found peace; and
+might still have found it, had there not been----. But why should I open
+afresh wounds which time has imperfectly closed? But the story must some
+time be told to you, and the sooner it is told and dismissed to
+forgetfulness the better.
+
+"My ill fate led me into company with a woman too well known in the idle
+and dissipated circles. Her character was not unknown to me. There was
+nothing in her features or air to obviate disadvantageous
+prepossessions. I sought not her intercourse; I rather shunned it, as
+unpleasing and discreditable, but she would not be repulsed.
+Self-invited, she made herself my frequent guest; took unsolicited part
+in my concerns; did me many kind offices; and, at length, in spite of my
+counter-inclination, won upon my sympathy and gratitude.
+
+"No one in the world, did I fondly think, had I less reason to fear than
+Mrs. Waring. Her character excited not the slightest apprehension for my
+own safety. She was upwards of forty, nowise remarkable for grace or
+beauty; tawdry in her dress; accustomed to render more conspicuous the
+traces of age by her attempts to hide them; the mother of a numerous
+family, with a mind but slenderly cultivated; always careful to save
+appearances; studiously preserving distance with my husband, and he,
+like myself, enduring rather than wishing her society. What could I fear
+from the arts of such a one?
+
+"But alas! the woman had consummate address. Patience, too, that nothing
+could tire. Watchfulness that none could detect. Insinuation the wiliest
+and most subtle. Thus wound she herself into my affections, by an
+unexampled perseverance in seeming kindness; by tender confidence; by
+artful glosses of past misconduct; by self-rebukes and feigned
+contritions.
+
+"Never were stratagems so intricate, dissimulation so profound! But
+still, that such a one should seduce my husband; young, generous,
+ambitious, impatient of contumely and reproach, and surely not
+indifferent; before this fatal intercourse, not indifferent to his wife
+and child!--Yet so it was!
+
+"I saw his discontents; his struggles; I heard him curse this woman, and
+the more deeply for my attempts, unconscious as I was of her
+machinations, to reconcile them to each other, to do away what seemed a
+causeless indignation, or antipathy against her. How little I suspected
+the nature of the conflict in his heart, between a new passion and the
+claims of pride; of conscience and of humanity; the claims of a child
+and a wife; a wife, already in affliction, and placing all that yet
+remained of happiness, in the firmness of his virtue; in the continuance
+of his love; a wife, at the very hour of his meditated flight, full of
+terrors at the near approach of an event whose agonies demand a double
+share of a husband's supporting, encouraging love----
+
+"Good Heaven! For what evils are some of thy creatures reserved!
+Resignation to thy decree, in the last and most cruel distress, was,
+indeed, a hard task.
+
+"He was gone. Some unavoidable engagement calling him to Hamburg was
+pleaded. Yet to leave me at such an hour! I dared not upbraid, nor
+object. The tale was so specious! The fortunes of a friend depended on
+his punctual journey. The falsehood of his story too soon made itself
+known. He was gone, in company with his detested paramour!
+
+"Yet, though my vigilance was easily deceived, it was not so with
+others. A creditor, who had his bond for three thousand pounds, pursued
+and arrested him at Harwich. He was thrown into prison, but his
+companion--let me, at least, say that in her praise--would not desert
+him. She took lodging near the place of his confinement, and saw him
+daily. That, had she not done it, and had my personal condition allowed,
+should have been my province.
+
+"Indignation and grief hastened the painful crisis with me. I did not
+weep that the second fruit of this unhappy union saw not the light. I
+wept only that this hour of agony was not, to its unfortunate mother,
+the last.
+
+"I felt not anger; I had nothing but compassion for Fielding. Gladly
+would I have recalled him to my arms and to virtue; I wrote, adjuring
+him, by all our past joys, to return; vowing only gratitude for his new
+affection, and claiming only the recompense of seeing him restored to
+his family; to liberty; to reputation.
+
+"But, alas! Fielding had a good but a proud heart. He looked upon his
+error with remorse, with self-detestation, and with the fatal belief
+that it could not be retrieved; shame made him withstand all my
+reasonings and persuasions, and, in the hurry of his feelings, he made
+solemn vows that he would, in the moment of restored liberty, abjure his
+country and his family forever. He bore indignantly the yoke of his new
+attachment, but he strove in vain to shake it off. Her behaviour, always
+yielding, doting, supplicative, preserved him in her fetters. Though
+upbraided, spurned, and banished from his presence, she would not leave
+him, but, by new efforts and new artifices, soothed, appeased, and won
+again and kept his tenderness.
+
+"What my entreaties were unable to effect, his father could not hope to
+accomplish. He offered to take him from prison; the creditor offered to
+cancel the bond, if he would return to me; but this condition he
+refused. All his kindred, and one who had been his bosom-friend from
+childhood, joined in beseeching his compliance with these conditions;
+but his pride, his dread of my merited reproaches, the merits and
+dissuasions of his new companion, whose sacrifices for his sake had not
+been small, were obstacles which nothing could subdue.
+
+"Far, indeed, was I from imposing these conditions. I waited only till,
+by certain arrangements, I could gather enough to pay his debts, to
+enable him to execute his vow: empty would have been my claims to his
+affection, if I could have suffered, with the means of his deliverance
+in my hands, my husband to remain a moment in prison.
+
+"The remains of my father's vast fortune was a jointure of a thousand
+pounds a year, settled on my mother, and, after her death, on me. My
+mother's helpless condition put this revenue into my disposal. By this
+means was I enabled, without the knowledge of my father-in-law or my
+husband, to purchase the debt, and dismiss him from prison. He set out
+instantly, in company with his paramour, to France.
+
+"When somewhat recovered from the shock of this calamity, I took up my
+abode with my mother. What she had was enough, as you perhaps will
+think, for plentiful subsistence; but to us, with habits of a different
+kind, it was little better than poverty. That reflection, my father's
+memory, my mother's deplorable state, which every year grew worse, and
+the late misfortune, were the chief companions of my thoughts.
+
+"The dear child, whose smiles were uninterrupted by his mother's
+afflictions, was some consolation in my solitude. To his instruction and
+to my mother's wants all my hours were devoted. I was sometimes not
+without the hope of better days. Full as my mind was of Fielding's
+merits, convinced by former proofs of his ardent and generous spirit, I
+trusted that time and reflection would destroy that spell by which he
+was now bound.
+
+"For some time, the progress of these reflections was not known. In
+leaving England, Fielding dropped all correspondence and connection with
+his native country. He parted with the woman at Rouen, leaving no trace
+behind him by which she might follow him, as she wished to do. She never
+returned to England, but died a twelvemonth afterwards in Switzerland.
+
+"As to me, I had only to muse day and night upon the possible destiny of
+this beloved fugitive. His incensed father cared not for him. He had
+cast him out of his paternal affections, ceased to make inquiries
+respecting him, and even wished never to hear of him again. My boy
+succeeded to my husband's place in his grandfather's affections, and in
+the hopes and views of the family; and his mother wanted nothing which
+their compassionate and respectful love could bestow.
+
+"Three long and tedious years passed away, and no tidings were received.
+Whether he were living or dead, nobody could tell. At length, an English
+traveller, going out of the customary road from Italy, met with
+Fielding, in a town in the Venaissin. His manners, habits, and language,
+had become French. He seemed unwilling to be recognised by an old
+acquaintance, but, not being able to avoid this, and becoming gradually
+familiar, he informed the traveller of many particulars in his present
+situation. It appeared that he had made himself useful to a neighbouring
+_seigneur_, in whose _château_ he had long lived on the footing of a
+brother. France he had resolved to make his future country, and, among
+other changes for that end, he had laid aside his English name, and
+taken that of his patron, which was _Perrin_. He had endeavoured to
+compensate himself for all other privations, by devoting himself to
+rural amusements and to study.
+
+"He carefully shunned all inquiries respecting me; but, when my name was
+mentioned by his friend, who knew well all that had happened, and my
+general welfare, together with that of his son, asserted, he showed deep
+sensibility, and even consented that I should be made acquainted with
+his situation.
+
+"I cannot describe the effect of this intelligence on me. My hopes of
+bringing him back to me were suddenly revived. I wrote him a letter, in
+which I poured forth my whole heart; but his answer contained avowals of
+all his former resolutions, to which time had only made his adherence
+more easy. A second and third letter were written, and an offer made to
+follow him to his retreat and share his exile; but all my efforts
+availed nothing. He solemnly and repeatedly renounced all the claims of
+a husband over me, and absolved me from every obligation as a wife.
+
+"His part in this correspondence was performed without harshness or
+contempt. A strange mixture there was of pathos and indifference; of
+tenderness and resolution. Hence I continually derived hope, which time,
+however, brought no nearer to certainty.
+
+"At the opening of the Revolution, the name of Perrin appeared among the
+deputies to the constituent assembly for the district in which he
+resided. He had thus succeeded in gaining all the rights of a French
+citizen; and the hopes of his return became almost extinct; but that,
+and every other hope respecting him, has since been totally extinguished
+by his marriage with Marguerite d'Almont, a young lady of great merit
+and fortune, and a native of Avignon.
+
+"A long period of suspense was now at an end, and left me in a state
+almost as full of anguish as that which our first separation produced.
+My sorrows were increased by my mother's death, and, this incident
+freeing me from those restraints upon my motions which before existed, I
+determined to come to America.
+
+"My son was now eight years old, and, his grandfather claiming the
+province of his instruction, I was persuaded to part with him, that he
+might be sent to a distant school. Thus was another tie removed, and, in
+spite of the well-meant importunities of my friends, I persisted in my
+scheme of crossing the ocean."
+
+I could not help, at this part of her narration, expressing my surprise
+that any motives were strong enough to recommend this scheme.
+
+"It was certainly a freak of despair. A few months would, perhaps, have
+allayed the fresh grief, and reconciled me to my situation; but I would
+not pause or deliberate. My scheme was opposed by my friends with great
+earnestness. During my voyage, affrighted by the dangers which
+surrounded me, and to which I was wholly unused, I heartily repented of
+my resolution; but now, methinks, I have reason to rejoice at my
+perseverance. I have come into a scene and society so new, I have had so
+many claims made upon my ingenuity and fortitude, that my mind has been
+diverted in some degree from former sorrows. There are even times when I
+wholly forget them, and catch myself indulging in cheerful reveries.
+
+"I have often reflected with surprise on the nature of my own mind. It
+is eight years since my father's violent death. How few of my hours
+since that period have been blessed with serenity! How many nights and
+days, in hateful and lingering succession, have been bathed in tears and
+tormented with regrets! That I am still alive, with so many causes of
+death, and with such a slow-consuming malady, is surely to be wondered
+at.
+
+"I believe the worst foes of man, at least of men in grief, are solitude
+and idleness. The same eternally-occurring round of objects feeds his
+disease, and the effects of mere vacancy and uniformity are sometimes
+mistaken for those of grief. Yes, I am glad I came to America. My
+relations are importunate for my return, and till lately I had some
+thoughts of it; but I think now I shall stay where I am for the rest of
+my days.
+
+"Since I arrived, I am become more of a student than I used to be. I
+always loved literature, but never, till of late, had I a mind enough at
+ease to read with advantage. I now find pleasure in the occupation which
+I never expected to find.
+
+"You see in what manner I live. The letters which I brought secured me a
+flattering reception from the best people in your country; but scenes of
+gay resort had nothing to attract me, and I quickly withdrew to that
+seclusion in which you now find me. Here, always at leisure, and
+mistress of every laudable means of gratification, I am not without the
+belief of serene days yet to come."
+
+I now ventured to inquire what were her latest tidings of her husband.
+
+"At the opening of the Revolution, I told you, he became a champion of
+the people. By his zeal and his efforts he acquired such importance as
+to be deputed to the National Assembly. In this post he was the adherent
+of violent measures, till the subversion of monarchy; and then, when too
+late for his safety, he checked his career."
+
+"And what has since become of him?"
+
+She sighed deeply. "You were yesterday reading a list of the proscribed
+under Robespierre. I checked you. I had good reason. But this subject
+grows too painful; let us change it."
+
+Some time after, I ventured to renew this topic; and discovered that
+Fielding, under his new name of Perrin d'Almont, was among the outlawed
+deputies of last year,[1] and had been slain in resisting the officers
+sent to arrest him. My friend had been informed that his _wife_,
+Marguerite d'Almont, whom she had reason to believe a woman of great
+merit, had eluded persecution, and taken refuge in some part of America.
+She had made various attempts, but in vain, to find out her retreat.
+"Ah!" said I, "you must commission me to find her. I will hunt her
+through the continent from Penobscot to Savannah. I will not leave a
+nook unsearched."
+
+[Footnote 1: 1793.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+
+None will be surprised that, to a woman thus unfortunate and thus
+deserving, my heart willingly rendered up all its sympathies; that, as I
+partook of all her grief, I hailed, with equal delight, those omens of
+felicity which now, at length, seemed to play in her fancy.
+
+I saw her often,--as often as my engagements would permit, and oftener
+than I allowed myself to visit any other. In this I was partly selfish.
+So much entertainment, so much of the best instruction, did her
+conversation afford me, that I never had enough of it.
+
+Her experience had been so much larger than mine, and so wholly
+different, and she possessed such unbounded facility of recounting all
+she had seen and felt, and absolute sincerity and unreserve in this
+respect were so fully established between us, that I can imagine nothing
+equally instructive and delightful with her conversation.
+
+Books are cold, jejune, vexatious in their sparingness of information at
+one time and their impertinent loquacity at another. Besides, all they
+choose to give they give at once; they allow no questions, offer no
+further explanations, and bend not to the caprices of our curiosity.
+They talk to us behind a screen. Their tone is lifeless and monotonous.
+They charm not our attention by mute significances of gesture and looks.
+They spread no light upon their meaning by cadences and emphasis and
+pause.
+
+How different was Mrs. Fielding's discourse! So versatile; so bending to
+the changes of the occasion; so obsequious to my curiosity, and so
+abundant in that very knowledge in which I was most deficient, and on
+which I set the most value, the knowledge of the human heart; of
+society as it existed in another world, more abundant in the varieties
+of customs and characters, than I had ever had the power to witness.
+
+Partly selfish I have said my motives were, but not so, as long as I saw
+that my friend derived pleasure, in her turn, from my company. Not that
+I could add directly to her knowledge or pleasure, but that expansion of
+heart, that ease of utterance and flow of ideas which always were
+occasioned by my approach, were sources of true pleasure of which she
+had been long deprived, and for which her privation had given her a
+higher relish than ever.
+
+She lived in great affluence and independence, but made use of her
+privileges of fortune chiefly to secure to herself the command of her
+own time. She had been long ago tired and disgusted with the dull and
+fulsome uniformity and parade of the play-house and ballroom. Formal
+visits were endured as mortifications and penances, by which the
+delights of privacy and friendly intercourse were by contrast increased.
+Music she loved, but never sought it in places of public resort, or from
+the skill of mercenary performers; and books were not the least of her
+pleasures.
+
+As to me, I was wax in her hand. Without design and without effort, I
+was always of that form she wished me to assume. My own happiness became
+a secondary passion, and her gratification the great end of my being.
+When with her, I thought not of myself. I had scarcely a separate or
+independent existence, since my senses were occupied by her, and my mind
+was full of those ideas which her discourse communicated. To meditate on
+her looks and words, and to pursue the means suggested by my own
+thoughts, or by her, conducive, in any way, to her good, was all my
+business.
+
+"What a fate," said I, at the conclusion of one of our interviews, "has
+been yours! But, thank Heaven, the storm has disappeared before the age
+of sensibility has gone past, and without drying up every source of
+happiness. You are still young; all your powers unimpaired; rich in the
+compassion and esteem of the world; wholly independent of the claims and
+caprices of others; amply supplied with that means of usefulness,
+called money; wise in that experience which only adversity can give.
+Past evils and sufferings, if incurred and endured without guilt, if
+called to view without remorse, make up the materials of present joy.
+They cheer our most dreary hours with the widespread accents of 'well
+done,' and they heighten our pleasures into somewhat of celestial
+brilliancy, by furnishing a deep, a ruefully-deep, contrast.
+
+"From this moment, I will cease to weep for you. I will call you the
+happiest of women. I will share with you your happiness by witnessing
+it; but that shall not content me. I must some way contribute to it.
+Tell me how I shall serve you. What can I do to make you happier? Poor
+am I in every thing but zeal, but still I may do something. What--pray
+tell me, what can I do?"
+
+She looked at me with sweet and solemn significance. What it was exactly
+I could not divine, yet I was strangely affected by it. It was but a
+glance, instantly withdrawn. She made me no answer.
+
+"You must not be silent; you _must_ tell me what I can do for you.
+Hitherto I have done nothing. All the service is on your side. Your
+conversation has been my study, a delightful study, but the profit has
+only been mine. Tell me how I can be grateful: my voice and manner, I
+believe, seldom belie my feelings." At this time, I had almost done what
+a second thought made me suspect to be unauthorized. Yet I cannot tell
+why. My heart had nothing in it but reverence and admiration. Was she
+not the substitute of my lost mamma? Would I not have clasped that
+beloved shade? Yet the two beings were not just the same, or I should
+not, as now, have checked myself, and only pressed her hand to my lips.
+
+"Tell me," repeated I, "what can I do to serve you? I read to you a
+little now, and you are pleased with my reading. I copy for you when you
+want the time. I guide the reins for you when you choose to ride. Humble
+offices, indeed, though, perhaps, all that a raw youth like me can do
+for you; but I can be still more assiduous. I can read several hours in
+the day, instead of one. I can write ten times as much as now.
+
+"Are you not my lost mamma come back again? And yet, not _exactly_ her,
+I think. Something different; something better, I believe, if that be
+possible. At any rate, methinks I would be wholly yours. I shall be
+impatient and uneasy till every act, every thought, every minute,
+someway does you good.
+
+"How!" said I, (her eye, still averted, seemed to hold back the tear
+with difficulty, and she made a motion as if to rise,) "have I grieved
+you? Have I been importunate? Forgive me if I have offended you."
+
+Her eyes now overflowed without restraint. She articulated, with
+difficulty, "Tears are too prompt with me of late; but they did not
+upbraid you. Pain has often caused them to flow, but now
+it--is--_pleasure_."
+
+"What a heart must yours be!" I resumed. "When susceptible of such
+pleasures, what pangs must formerly have rent it!--But you are not
+displeased, you say, with my importunate zeal. You will accept me as
+your own in every thing. Direct me; prescribe to me. There must be
+_something_ in which I can be of still more use to you; some way in
+which I can be wholly yours----"
+
+"_Wholly mine!_" she repeated, in a smothered voice, and rising. "Leave
+me, Arthur. It is too late for you to be here. It was wrong to stay so
+late."
+
+"I have been wrong; but how too late? I entered but this moment. It is
+twilight still; is it not?"
+
+"No: it is almost twelve. You have been here a long four hours; short
+ones I would rather say,--but indeed you must go."
+
+"What made me so thoughtless of the time? But I will go, yet not till
+you forgive me." I approached her with a confidence and for a purpose at
+which, upon reflection, I am not a little surprised; but the being
+called Mervyn is not the same in her company and in that of another.
+What is the difference, and whence comes it? Her words and looks engross
+me. My mind wants room for any other object. But why inquire whence the
+difference? The superiority of her merits and attractions to all those
+whom I knew would surely account for my fervour. Indifference, if I
+felt it, would be the only just occasion of wonder.
+
+The hour was, indeed, too late, and I hastened home. Stevens was waiting
+my return with some anxiety. I apologized for my delay, and recounted to
+him what had just passed. He listened with more than usual interest.
+When I had finished,--
+
+"Mervyn," said he, "you seem not be aware of your present situation.
+From what you now tell me, and from what you have formerly told me, one
+thing seems very plain to me."
+
+"Pr'ythee, what is it?"
+
+"Eliza Hadwin:--do you wish--could you bear--to see her the wife of
+another?"
+
+"Five years hence I will answer you. Then my answer may be, 'No; I wish
+her only to be mine.' Till then, I wish her only to be my pupil, my
+ward, my sister."
+
+"But these are remote considerations; they are bars to marriage, but not
+to love. Would it not molest and disquiet you to observe in her a
+passion for another?"
+
+"It would, but only on her own account; not on mine. At a suitable age
+it is very likely I may love her, because it is likely, if she holds on
+in her present career, she will then be worthy; but at present, though I
+would die to insure her happiness, I have no wish to insure it by
+marriage with her."
+
+"Is there no other whom you love?"
+
+"No. There is one worthier than all others; one whom I wish the woman
+who shall be my wife to resemble in all things."
+
+"And who is this model?"
+
+"You know I can only mean Achsa Fielding."
+
+"If you love her likeness, why not love herself?"
+
+I felt my heart leap.--"What a thought is that! Love her I _do_ as I
+love my God; as I love virtue. To love her in another sense would brand
+me for a lunatic."
+
+"To love her as a woman, then, appears to you an act of folly."
+
+"In me it would be worse than folly. 'Twould be frenzy."
+
+"And why?"
+
+"Why? Really, my friend, you astonish me. Nay, you startle me--for a
+question like that implies a doubt in you whether I have not actually
+harboured the thought."
+
+"No," said he, smiling, "presumptuous though you be, you have not,
+to-be-sure, reached so high a pitch. But still, though I think you
+innocent of so heinous an offence, there is no harm in asking why you
+might not love her, and even seek her for a wife."
+
+Achsa Fielding _my wife_! Good Heaven!--The very sound threw my soul
+into unconquerable tumults. "Take care, my friend," continued I, in
+beseeching accents, "you may do me more injury than you conceive, by
+even starting such a thought."
+
+"True," said he, "as long as such obstacles exist to your success; so
+many incurable objections: for instance, she is six years older than
+you."
+
+"That is an advantage. Her age is what it ought to be."
+
+"But she has been a wife and mother already."
+
+"That is likewise an advantage. She has wisdom, because she has
+experience. Her sensibilities are stronger, because they have been
+exercised and chastened. Her first marriage was unfortunate. The purer
+is the felicity she will taste in a second! If her second choice be
+propitious, the greater her tenderness and gratitude."
+
+"But she is a foreigner; independent of control, and rich."
+
+"All which are blessings to herself, and to him for whom her hand is
+reserved; especially if, like me, he is indigent."
+
+"But then she is unsightly as a _night-hag_, tawny as a Moor, the eye of
+a gipsy, low in stature, contemptibly diminutive, scarcely bulk enough
+to cast a shadow as she walks, less luxuriance than a charred log, fewer
+elasticities than a sheet pebble."
+
+"Hush! hush! blasphemer!"--(and I put my hand before his mouth)--"have I
+not told you that in mind, person, and condition, she is the type after
+which my enamoured fancy has modelled my wife?"
+
+"Oh ho! Then the objection does not lie with you. It lies with her, it
+seems. She can find nothing in you to esteem! And, pray, for what faults
+do you think she would reject you?"
+
+"I cannot tell. That she can ever balance for a moment, on such a
+question, is incredible. _Me! me!_ That Achsa Fielding should think of
+me!"
+
+"Incredible, indeed! You, who are loathsome in your person, an idiot in
+your understanding, a villain in your morals! deformed! withered! vain,
+stupid, and malignant. That such a one should choose _you_ for an idol!"
+
+"Pray, my friend," said I, anxiously, "jest not. What mean you by a hint
+of this kind?"
+
+"I will not jest, then, but will soberly inquire, what faults are they
+which make this lady's choice of you so incredible? You are younger than
+she, though no one, who merely observed your manners and heard you talk,
+would take you to be under thirty. You are poor: are these impediments?"
+
+"I should think not. I have heard her reason with admirable eloquence
+against the vain distinctions of property and nation and rank. They were
+once of moment in her eyes; but the sufferings, humiliations, and
+reflections of years have cured her of the folly. Her nation has
+suffered too much by the inhuman antipathies of religious and political
+faction; she, herself, has felt so often the contumelies of the rich,
+the high-born, and the bigoted, that----"
+
+"Pr'ythee, then, what dost imagine her objections to be?"
+
+"Why--I don't know. The thought was so aspiring; to call her _my wife_
+was a height of bliss the very far-off view of which made my head
+dizzy."
+
+"A height, however, to attain which you suppose only her consent, her
+love, to be necessary?"
+
+"Without doubt, her love is indispensable."
+
+"Sit down, Arthur, and let us no longer treat this matter lightly. I
+clearly see the importance of this moment to this lady's happiness and
+yours. It is plain that you love this woman. How could you help it? A
+brilliant skin is not hers; nor elegant proportions; nor majestic
+stature: yet no creature had ever more power to bewitch. Her manners
+have grace and dignity that flow from exquisite feelings, delicate
+taste, and the quickest and keenest penetration. She has the wisdom of
+men and of books. Her sympathies are enforced by reason, and her
+charities regulated by knowledge. She has a woman's age, fortune more
+than you wish, and a spotless fame. How could you fail to love her?
+
+"_You_, who are her chosen friend, who partake her pleasures and share
+her employments, on whom she almost exclusively bestows her society and
+confidence, and to whom she thus affords the strongest of all indirect
+proofs of impassioned esteem,--how could you, with all that firmness of
+love, joined with all that discernment of her excellence, how could you
+escape the enchantment?
+
+"You have not thought of marriage. You have not suspected your love.
+From the purity of your mind, from the idolatry with which this woman
+has inspired you, you have imagined no delight beyond that of enjoying
+her society as you now do, and have never fostered a hope beyond this
+privilege.
+
+"How quickly would this tranquillity vanish, and the true state of your
+heart be evinced, if a rival should enter the scene and be entertained
+with preference! then would the seal be removed, the spell be broken,
+and you would awaken to terror and to anguish.
+
+"Of this, however, there is no danger. Your passion is not felt by you
+alone. From her treatment of you, your diffidence disables you from
+seeing, but nothing can be clearer to me than that she loves you."
+
+I started on my feet. A flush of scorching heat flowed to every part of
+my frame. My temples began to throb like my heart. I was half delirious,
+and my delirium was strangely compounded of fear and hope, of delight
+and of terror.
+
+"What have you done, my friend? You have overturned my peace of mind.
+Till now the image of this woman has been followed by complacency and
+sober rapture; but your words have dashed the scene with dismay and
+confusion. You have raised up wishes, and dreams, and doubts, which
+possess me in spite of my reason, in spite of a thousand proofs.
+
+"Good God! You say she loves,--loves _me_!--me, a boy in age; bred in
+clownish ignorance; scarcely ushered into the world; more than
+childishly unlearned and raw; a barn-door simpleton; a plough-tail,
+kitchen-hearth, turnip-hoeing novice! She, thus splendidly endowed; thus
+allied to nobles; thus gifted with arts, and adorned with graces; that
+she should choose me, me for the partner of her fortune; her affections;
+and her life! It cannot be. Yet, if it were; if your guesses
+should--prove--Oaf! madman! To indulge so fatal a chimera! So rash a
+dream!
+
+"My friend! my friend! I feel that you have done me an irreparable
+injury. I can never more look her in the face. I can never more frequent
+her society. These new thoughts will beset and torment me. My disquiet
+will chain up my tongue. That overflowing gratitude; that innocent joy,
+unconscious of offence, and knowing no restraint, which have hitherto
+been my titles to her favour, will fly from my features and manners. I
+shall be anxious, vacant, and unhappy in her presence. I shall dread to
+look at her, or to open my lips, lest my mad and unhallowed ambition
+should betray itself."
+
+"Well," replied Stevens, "this scene is quite new. I could almost find
+it in my heart to pity you. I did not expect this; and yet, from my
+knowledge of your character, I ought, perhaps, to have foreseen it. This
+is a necessary part of the drama. A joyous certainty, on these
+occasions, must always be preceded by suspenses and doubts, and the
+close will be joyous in proportion as the preludes are excruciating. Go
+to bed, my good friend, and think of this. Time and a few more
+interviews with Mrs. Fielding will, I doubt not, set all to rights."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII.
+
+
+I went to my chamber, but what different sensations did I carry into it
+from those with which I had left it a few hours before! I stretched
+myself on the mattress and put out the light; but the swarm of new
+images that rushed on my mind set me again instantly in motion. All was
+rapid, vague, and undefined, wearying and distracting my attention. I
+was roused as by a divine voice, that said, "Sleep no more! Mervyn shall
+sleep no more."
+
+What chiefly occupied me was a nameless sort of terror. What shall I
+compare it to? Methinks, that one falling from a tree overhanging a
+torrent, plunged into the whirling eddy, and gasping and struggling
+while he sinks to rise no more, would feel just as I did then. Nay, some
+such image actually possessed me. Such was one of my reveries, in which
+suddenly I stretched my hand, and caught the arm of a chair. This act
+called me back to reason, or rather gave my soul opportunity to roam
+into a new track equally wild.
+
+Was it the abruptness of this vision that thus confounded me? was it a
+latent error in my moral constitution, which this new conjuncture drew
+forth into influence? These were all the tokens of a mind lost to
+itself; bewildered; unhinged; plunged into a drear insanity.
+
+Nothing less could have prompted so fantastically; for, midnight as it
+was, my chamber's solitude was not to be supported. After a few turns
+across the floor, I left the room, and the house. I walked without
+design and in a hurried pace. I posted straight to the house of Mrs.
+Fielding. I lifted the latch, but the door did not open. It was, no
+doubt, locked.
+
+"How comes this?" said I, and looked around me. The hour and occasion
+were unthought of. Habituated to this path, I had taken it
+spontaneously. "How comes this?" repeated I. "Locked upon _me_! but I
+will summon them, I warrant me,"--and rung the bell, not timidly or
+slightly, but with violence. Some one hastened from above. I saw the
+glimmer of a candle through the keyhole.
+
+"Strange," thought I; "a candle at noonday!"--The door was opened, and
+my poor Bess, robed in a careless and hasty manner, appeared. She
+started at sight of me, but merely because she did not, in a moment,
+recognise me.--"Ah! Arthur, is it you? Come in. My mamma has wanted you
+these two hours. I was just going to despatch Philip to tell you to
+come."
+
+"Lead me to her," said I.
+
+She led the way into the parlour.--"Wait a moment here; I will tell her
+you are come;"--and she tripped away.
+
+Presently a step was heard. The door opened again, and then entered a
+man. He was tall, elegant, sedate to a degree of sadness; something in
+his dress and aspect that bespoke the foreigner, the Frenchman.
+
+"What," said he, mildly, "is your business with my wife? She cannot see
+you instantly, and has sent me to receive your commands."
+
+"Your _wife_! I want Mrs. Fielding."
+
+"True; and Mrs. Fielding is my wife. Thank Heaven, I have come in time
+to discover her, and claim her as such."
+
+I started back. I shuddered. My joints slackened, and I stretched my
+hand to catch something by which I might be saved from sinking on the
+floor. Meanwhile, Fielding changed his countenance into rage and fury.
+He called me villain! bade me avaunt! and drew a shining steel from his
+bosom, with which he stabbed me to the heart. I sunk upon the floor, and
+all, for a time, was darkness and oblivion! At length, I returned as it
+were to life. I opened my eyes. The mists disappeared, and I found
+myself stretched upon the bed in my own chamber. I remembered the fatal
+blow I had received. I put my hand upon my breast; the spot where the
+dagger entered. There were no traces of a wound. All was perfect and
+entire. Some miracle had made me whole.
+
+I raised myself up. I re-examined my body. All around me was hushed,
+till a voice from the pavement below proclaimed that it was "past three
+o'clock."
+
+"What!" said I; "has all this miserable pageantry, this midnight
+wandering, and this ominous interview, been no more than--_a dream_?"
+
+It may be proper to mention, in explanation of this scene, and to show
+the thorough perturbation of my mind during this night, intelligence
+gained some days after from Eliza. She said, that about two o'clock, on
+this night, she was roused by a violent ringing of the bell. She was
+startled by so unseasonable a summons. She slept in a chamber adjoining
+Mrs. Fielding's, and hesitated whether she should alarm her friend; but,
+the summons not being repeated, she had determined to forbear.
+
+Added to this, was the report of Mrs. Stevens, who, on the same night,
+about half an hour after I and her husband had retired, imagined that
+she heard the street door opened and shut; but, this being followed by
+no other consequence, she supposed herself mistaken. I have little doubt
+that, in my feverish and troubled sleep, I actually went forth, posted
+to the house of Mrs. Fielding, rung for admission, and shortly after
+returned to my own apartment.
+
+This confusion of mind was somewhat allayed by the return of light. It
+gave way to more uniform but not less rueful and despondent perceptions.
+The image of Achsa filled my fancy, but it was the harbinger of nothing
+but humiliation and sorrow. To outroot the conviction of my own
+unworthiness, to persuade myself that I was regarded with the tenderness
+that Stevens had ascribed to her, that the discovery of my thoughts
+would not excite her anger and grief, I felt to be impossible.
+
+In this state of mind, I could not see her. To declare my feelings would
+produce indignation and anguish; to hide them from her scrutiny was not
+in my power; yet, what would she think of my estranging myself from her
+society? What expedient could I honestly adopt to justify my absence,
+and what employments could I substitute for those precious hours
+hitherto devoted to her?
+
+"_This_ afternoon," thought I, "she has been invited to spend at
+Stedman's country-house on Schuylkill. She consented to go, and I was to
+accompany her. I am fit only for solitude. My behaviour, in her
+presence, will be enigmatical, capricious, and morose. I must not go:
+yet what will she think of my failure? Not to go will be injurious and
+suspicious."
+
+I was undetermined. The appointed hour arrived. I stood at my
+chamber-window, torn by a variety of purposes, and swayed alternately by
+repugnant arguments. I several times went to the door of my apartment,
+and put my foot upon the first step of the staircase, but as often
+paused, reconsidered, and returned to my room.
+
+In these fluctuations the hour passed. No messenger arrived from Mrs.
+Fielding, inquiring into the cause of my delay. Was she offended at my
+negligence? Was she sick and disabled from going, or had she changed her
+mind? I now remembered her parting words at our last interview. Were
+they not susceptible of two constructions? She said my visit was too
+long, and bade me begone. Did she suspect my presumption, and is she
+determined thus to punish me?
+
+This terror added anew to all my former anxieties. It was impossible to
+rest in this suspense. I would go to her; I would lay before her all the
+anguish of my heart; I would not spare myself. She shall not reproach me
+more severely than I will reproach myself. I will hear my sentence from
+her own lips, and promise unlimited submission to the doom of separation
+and exile which she will pronounce.
+
+I went forth to her house. The drawing-room and summer-house were empty.
+I summoned Philip the footman: his mistress was gone to Mr. Stedman's.
+
+"How?--To Stedman's?--In whose company?"
+
+"Miss Stedman and her brother called for her in the carriage, and
+persuaded her to go with them."
+
+Now my heart sunk, indeed! Miss Stedman's _brother_! A youth, forward,
+gallant, and gay! Flushed with prosperity, and just returned from
+Europe, with all the confidence of age, and all the ornaments of
+education! She has gone with him, though pre-engaged to me! Poor Arthur,
+how art thou despised!
+
+This information only heightened my impatience. I went away, but
+returned in the evening. I waited till eleven, but she came not back. I
+cannot justly paint the interval that passed till next morning. It was
+void of sleep. On leaving her house, I wandered into the fields. Every
+moment increased my impatience. "She will probably spend the morrow at
+Stedman's," said I, "and possibly the next day. Why should I wait for
+her return? Why not seek her there, and rid myself at once of this
+agonizing suspense? Why not go thither now? This night, wherever I spend
+it, will be unacquainted with repose. I will go; it is already near
+twelve, and the distance is more than eight miles. I will hover near the
+house till morning, and then, as early as possible, demand an
+interview."
+
+I was well acquainted with Stedman's villa, having formerly been there
+with Mrs. Fielding. I quickly entered its precincts. I went close to the
+house; looked mournfully at every window. At one of them a light was to
+be seen, and I took various stations to discover, if possible, the
+persons within. Methought once I caught a glimpse of a female, whom my
+fancy easily imagined to be Achsa. I sat down upon the lawn, some
+hundred feet from the house, and opposite the window whence the light
+proceeded. I watched it, till at length some one came to the window,
+lifted it, and, leaning on her arms, continued to look out.
+
+The preceding day had been a very sultry one: the night, as usual after
+such a day and the fall of a violent shower, was delightfully serene and
+pleasant. Where I stood was enlightened by the moon. Whether she saw me
+or not, I could hardly tell, or whether she distinguished any thing but
+a human figure.
+
+Without reflecting on what was due to decorum and punctilio, I
+immediately drew near the house. I quickly perceived that her attention
+was fixed. Neither of us spoke, till I had placed myself directly under
+her; I then opened my lips, without knowing in what manner to address
+her. She spoke first, and in a startled and anxious voice:--
+
+"Who is that?"
+
+"Arthur Mervyn; he that was two days ago your friend."
+
+"Mervyn! What is it that brings you here at this hour? What is the
+matter? What has happened? Is anybody sick?"
+
+"All is safe; all are in good health."
+
+"What then do you come hither for at such an hour?"
+
+"I meant not to disturb you; I meant not to be seen."
+
+"Good heavens! How you frighten me! What can be the reason of so
+strange----"
+
+"Be not alarmed. I meant to hover near the house till morning, that I
+might see you as early as possible."
+
+"For what purpose?"
+
+"I will tell you when we meet, and let that be at five o'clock; the sun
+will then be risen; in the cedar-grove under the bank; till when,
+farewell."
+
+Having said this, I prevented all expostulation, by turning the angle of
+the house, and hastening towards the shore of the river. I roved about
+the grove that I have mentioned. In one part of it is a rustic seat and
+table, shrouded by trees and shrubs, and an intervening eminence, from
+the view of those in the house. This I designed to be the closing scene
+of my destiny.
+
+Presently I left this spot, and wandered upward through embarrassed and
+obscure paths, starting forward or checking my pace, according as my
+wayward meditations governed me. Shall I describe my thoughts?
+Impossible! It was certainly a temporary loss of reason; nothing less
+than madness could lead into such devious tracks, drag me down to so
+hopeless, helpless, panicful a depth, and drag me down so suddenly; lay
+waste, as at a signal, all my flourishing structures, and reduce them in
+a moment to a scene of confusion and horror.
+
+What did I fear? What did I hope? What did I design? I cannot tell; my
+glooms were to retire with the night. The point to which every
+tumultuous feeling was linked was the coming interview with Achsa. That
+was the boundary of fluctuation and suspense. Here was the sealing and
+ratification of my doom.
+
+I rent a passage through the thicket, and struggled upward till I
+reached the edge of a considerable precipice; I laid me down at my
+length upon the rock, whose cold and hard surface I pressed with my
+bared and throbbing breast. I leaned over the edge; fixed my eyes upon
+the water and wept--plentifully; but why?
+
+May _this_ be my heart's last beat, if I can tell why?
+
+I had wandered so far from Stedman's, that, when roused by the light, I
+had some miles to walk before I could reach the place of meeting. Achsa
+was already there. I slid down the rock above, and appeared before her.
+Well might she be startled at my wild and abrupt appearance.
+
+I placed myself, without uttering a word, upon a seat opposite to her,
+the table between, and, crossing my arms upon the table, leaned my head
+upon them, while my face was turned towards and my eyes fixed upon hers.
+I seemed to have lost the power and the inclination to speak.
+
+She regarded me, at first, with anxious curiosity; after examining my
+looks, every emotion was swallowed up in terrified sorrow. "For God's
+sake!--what does all this mean? Why am I called to this place? What
+tidings, what fearful tidings, do you bring?"
+
+I did not change my posture or speak. "What," she resumed, "could
+inspire all this woe? Keep me not in this suspense, Arthur; these looks
+and this silence shock and afflict me too much."
+
+"Afflict you?" said I, at last; "I come to tell you what, now that I am
+here, I cannot tell----" There I stopped.
+
+"Say what, I entreat you. You seem to be very unhappy--such a
+change--from yesterday!"
+
+"Yes! From yesterday; all then was a joyous calm, and now all is--but
+then I knew not my infamy, my guilt----"
+
+"What words are these, and from you, Arthur? Guilt is to you impossible.
+If purity is to be found on earth, it is lodged in your heart. What have
+you done?"
+
+"I have dared--how little you expect the extent of my daring! That such
+as I should look upwards with this ambition."
+
+I stood up, and taking her hands in mine, as she sat, looked earnestly
+in her face:--"I come only to beseech your pardon. To tell you my crime,
+and then disappear forever; but first let me see if there be any omen of
+forgiveness. Your looks--they are kind; heavenly; compassionate still. I
+will trust them, I believe; and yet" (letting go her hands, and turning
+away) "this offence is beyond the reach even of _your_ mercy."
+
+"How beyond measure these words and this deportment distress me! Let me
+know the worst; I cannot bear to be thus perplexed."
+
+"Why," said I, turning quickly round and again taking her hands, "that
+Mervyn, whom you have honoured and confided in, and blessed with your
+sweet regards, has been----"
+
+"What has he been? Divinely amiable, heroic in his virtue, I am sure.
+What else has he been?"
+
+"This Mervyn has imagined, has dared--will you forgive him?"
+
+"Forgive you what? Why don't you speak? Keep not my soul in this
+suspense."
+
+"He has dared--But do not think that I am he. Continue to look as now,
+and reserve your killing glances, the vengeance of those eyes, as for
+one that is absent.----Why, what--you weep, then, at last. That is a
+propitious sign. When pity drops from the eyes of our judge, then should
+the suppliant approach. Now, in confidence of pardon, I will tell you;
+this Mervyn, not content with all you have hitherto granted him, has
+dared--to _love_ you; nay, to think of you as of _his wife_!"
+
+Her eye sunk beneath mine, and, disengaging her hands, she covered her
+face with them.
+
+"I see my fate," said I, in a tone of despair. "Too well did I predict
+the effect of this confession; but I will go--_and unforgiven_."
+
+She now partly uncovered her face. The hand was withdrawn from her
+cheek, and stretched towards me. She looked at me.
+
+"Arthur! I _do_ forgive thee."--With what accents was this uttered! With
+what looks! The cheek that was before pale with terror was now crimsoned
+over by a different emotion, and delight swam in her eye.
+
+Could I mistake? My doubts, my new-born fears, made me tremble while I
+took the offered hand.
+
+"Surely," faltered I, "I am not--I cannot be--so blessed."
+
+There was no need of words. The hand that I held was sufficiently
+eloquent. She was still silent.
+
+"Surely," said I, "my senses deceive me. A bliss like this cannot be
+reserved for me. Tell me once more--set my doubting heart at rest."
+
+She now gave herself to my arms:--"I have not words--Let your own heart
+tell you, you have made your Achsa----"
+
+At this moment, a voice from without (it was Miss Stedman's) called,
+"Mrs. Fielding! where are you?"
+
+My friend started up, and, in a hasty voice, bade me begone. "You must
+not be seen by this giddy girl. Come hither this evening, as if by my
+appointment, and I will return with you."--She left me in a kind of
+trance. I was immovable. My reverie was too delicious;--but let me not
+attempt the picture. If I can convey no image of my state previous to
+this interview, my subsequent feelings are still more beyond the reach
+of my powers to describe.
+
+Agreeably to the commands of my mistress, I hastened away, evading paths
+which might expose me to observation. I speedily made my friends partake
+of my joy, and passed the day in a state of solemn but confused rapture.
+I did not accurately portray the various parts of my felicity. The whole
+rushed upon my soul at once. My conceptions were too rapid and too
+comprehensive to be distinct.
+
+I went to Stedman's in the evening. I found in the accents and looks of
+my Achsa new assurances that all which had lately passed was more than a
+dream. She made excuses for leaving the Stedmans sooner than ordinary,
+and was accompanied to the city by her friend. We dropped Mrs. Fielding
+at her own house, and thither, after accompanying Miss Stedman to her
+own home, I returned upon the wings of tremulous impatience.
+
+Now could I repeat every word of every conversation that has since taken
+place between us; but why should I do that on paper? Indeed, it could
+not be done. All is of equal value, and all could not be comprised but
+in many volumes. There needs nothing more deeply to imprint it on my
+memory; and, while thus reviewing the past, I should be iniquitously
+neglecting the present. What is given to the pen would be taken from
+her; and that, indeed, would be--but no need of saying what it would be,
+since it is impossible.
+
+I merely write to allay these tumults which our necessary separation
+produces; to aid me in calling up a little patience till the time
+arrives when our persons, like our minds, shall be united forever. That
+time--may nothing happen to prevent--but nothing can happen. But why
+this ominous misgiving just now? My love has infected me with these
+unworthy terrors, for she has them too.
+
+This morning I was relating my dream to her. She started, and grew pale.
+A sad silence ensued the cheerfulness that had reigned before:--"Why
+thus dejected, my friend?"
+
+"I hate your dream. It is a horrid thought. Would to God it had never
+occurred to you!"
+
+"Why, surely, you place no confidence in dreams?"
+
+"I know not where to place confidence; not in my present promises of
+joy,"--and she wept. I endeavoured to soothe or console her. Why, I
+asked, did she weep?
+
+"My heart is sore. Former disappointments were so heavy; the hopes which
+were blasted were so like my present ones, that the dread of a like
+result will intrude upon my thoughts. And now your dream! Indeed, I know
+not what to do. I believe I ought still to retract--ought, at least, to
+postpone an act so irrevocable."
+
+Now was I obliged again to go over my catalogue of arguments to induce
+her to confirm her propitious resolution to be mine within the week. I,
+at last, succeeded, even in restoring her serenity, and beguiling her
+fears by dwelling on our future happiness.
+
+Our household, while we stayed in America,--in a year or two we hie to
+Europe,--should be _thus_ composed. Fidelity, and skill, and pure
+morals, should be sought out, and enticed, by generous recompenses, into
+our domestic service. Duties which should be light and regular.--Such
+and such should be our amusements and employments abroad and at home:
+and would not this be true happiness?
+
+"Oh yes--if it may be so."
+
+"It shall be so; but this is but the humble outline of the scene;
+something is still to be added to complete our felicity."
+
+"What more can be added?"
+
+"What more? Can Achsa ask what more? She who has not been _only_ a
+wife----"
+
+But why am I indulging this pen-prattle? The hour she fixed for my
+return to her is come, and now take thyself away, quill. Lie there, snug
+in thy leathern case, till I call for thee, and that will not be very
+soon. I believe I will abjure thy company till all is settled with my
+love. Yes; I _will_ abjure thee; so let _this_ be thy last office, till
+Mervyn has been made the happiest of men.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arthur Mervyn, by Charles Brockden Brown
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Arthur Mervyn, by Charles Brockden Brown
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+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
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+
+
+Title: Arthur Mervyn
+ Or, Memoirs of the Year 1793
+
+Author: Charles Brockden Brown
+
+Release Date: June 5, 2006 [EBook #18508]
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+
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+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARTHUR MERVYN ***
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+
+
+<h1>ARTHUR MERVYN;</h1>
+
+<h5>OR,</h5>
+
+<h2>MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 1793.</h2>
+
+<h4>BY</h4>
+
+<h3>CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWN.</h3>
+
+<p>"Fielding, Richardson, and Scott occupied pedestals. In a niche was
+deposited the bust of our countryman, the author of 'Arthur Mervyn.'"</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;"><span class="smcap">Nathaniel Hawthorne</span>.</p>
+
+<p class="center" style="margin-top: 5em;">PHILADELPHIA:</p><p class="center"> DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER,</p>
+
+<p class="center">23 <span class="smcap">South Ninth Street</span>.</p><p class="center"> 1889.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>PREFACE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The evils of pestilence by which this city has lately been afflicted
+will probably form an era in its history. The schemes of reformation and
+improvement to which they will give birth, or, if no efforts of human
+wisdom can avail to avert the periodical visitations of this calamity,
+the change in manners and population which they will produce, will be,
+in the highest degree, memorable. They have already supplied new and
+copious materials for reflection to the physician and the political
+economist. They have not been less fertile of instruction to the moral
+observer, to whom they have furnished new displays of the influence of
+human passions and motives.</p>
+
+<p>Amidst the medical and political discussions which are now afloat in the
+community relative to this topic, the author of these remarks has
+ventured to methodize his own reflections, and to weave into an humble
+narrative such incidents as appeared to him most instructive and
+remarkable among those which came within the sphere of his own
+observation. It is every one's duty to profit by all opportunities of
+inculcating on mankind the lessons of justice and humanity. The
+influences of hope and fear, the trials of fortitude and constancy,
+which took place in this city in the autumn of 1793, have, perhaps,
+never been exceeded in any age. It is but just to snatch some of these
+from oblivion, and to deliver to posterity a brief but faithful sketch
+of the condition of this metropolis during that calamitous period. Men
+only require to be made acquainted with distress for their compassion
+and their charity to be awakened. He that depicts, in lively colours,
+the evils of disease and poverty, performs an eminent service to the
+sufferers, by calling forth benevolence in those who are able to afford
+relief; and he who portrays examples of disinterestedness and
+intrepidity confers on virtue the notoriety and homage that are due to
+it, and rouses in the spectators the spirit of salutary emulation.</p>
+
+<p>In the following tale a particular series of adventures is brought to a
+close; but these are necessarily connected with the events which
+happened subsequent to the period here described. These events are not
+less memorable than those which form the subject of the present volume,
+and may hereafter be published, either separately or in addition to
+this.</p>
+
+<p class="right">C.B.B.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>ARTHUR MERVYN.</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I was resident in this city during the year 1793. Many motives
+contributed to detain me, though departure was easy and commodious, and
+my friends were generally solicitous for me to go. It is not my purpose
+to enumerate these motives, or to dwell on my present concerns and
+transactions, but merely to compose a narrative of some incidents with
+which my situation made me acquainted.</p>
+
+<p>Returning one evening, somewhat later than usual, to my own house, my
+attention was attracted, just as I entered the porch, by the figure of a
+man reclining against the wall at a few paces distant. My sight was
+imperfectly assisted by a far-off lamp; but the posture in which he sat,
+the hour, and the place, immediately suggested the idea of one disabled
+by sickness. It was obvious to conclude that his disease was
+pestilential. This did not deter me from approaching and examining him
+more closely.</p>
+
+<p>He leaned his head against the wall; his eyes were shut, his hands
+clasped in each other, and his body seemed to be sustained in an upright
+position merely by the cellar-door against which he rested his left
+shoulder. The lethargy into which he was sunk seemed scarcely
+interrupted by my feeling his hand and his forehead. His throbbing
+temples and burning skin indicated a fever, and his form, already
+emaciated, seemed to prove that it had not been of short duration.</p>
+
+<p>There was only one circumstance that hindered me from forming an
+immediate determination in what manner this person should be treated.
+My family consisted of my wife and a young child. Our servant-maid had
+been seized, three days before, by the reigning malady, and, at her own
+request, had been conveyed to the hospital. We ourselves enjoyed good
+health, and were hopeful of escaping with our lives. Our measures for
+this end had been cautiously taken and carefully adhered to. They did
+not consist in avoiding the receptacles of infection, for my office
+required me to go daily into the midst of them; nor in filling the house
+with the exhalations of gunpowder, vinegar, or tar. They consisted in
+cleanliness, reasonable exercise, and wholesome diet. Custom had
+likewise blunted the edge of our apprehensions. To take this person into
+my house, and bestow upon him the requisite attendance, was the scheme
+that first occurred to me. In this, however, the advice of my wife was
+to govern me.</p>
+
+<p>I mentioned the incident to her. I pointed out the danger which was to
+be dreaded from such an inmate. I desired her to decide with caution,
+and mentioned my resolution to conform myself implicitly to her
+decision. Should we refuse to harbour him, we must not forget that there
+was a hospital to which he would, perhaps, consent to be carried, and
+where he would be accommodated in the best manner the times would admit.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," said she, "talk not of hospitals. At least, let him have his
+choice. I have no fear about me, for my part, in a case where the
+injunctions of duty are so obvious. Let us take the poor, unfortunate
+wretch into our protection and care, and leave the consequences to
+Heaven."</p>
+
+<p>I expected and was pleased with this proposal. I returned to the sick
+man, and, on rousing him from his stupor, found him still in possession
+of his reason. With a candle near, I had an opportunity of viewing him
+more accurately.</p>
+
+<p>His garb was plain, careless, and denoted rusticity. His aspect was
+simple and ingenuous, and his decayed visage still retained traces of
+uncommon but manlike beauty. He had all the appearances of mere youth,
+unspoiled by luxury and uninured to misfortune. I scarcely ever beheld
+an object which laid so powerful and sudden a claim to my affection and
+succour.</p>
+
+<p>"You are sick," said I, in as cheerful a tone as I could assume. "Cold
+bricks and night-airs are comfortless attendants for one in your
+condition. Rise, I pray you, and come into the house. We will try to
+supply you with accommodations a little more suitable."</p>
+
+<p>At this address he fixed his languid eyes upon me. "What would you
+have?" said he. "I am very well as I am. While I breathe, which will not
+be long, I shall breathe with more freedom here than elsewhere. Let me
+alone&mdash;I am very well as I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," said I, "this situation is unsuitable to a sick man. I only ask
+you to come into my house, and receive all the kindness that it is in
+our power to bestow. Pluck up courage, and I will answer for your
+recovery, provided you submit to directions, and do as we would have
+you. Rise, and come along with me. We will find you a physician and a
+nurse, and all we ask in return is good spirits and compliance."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you not know," he replied, "what my disease is? Why should you risk
+your safety for the sake of one whom your kindness cannot benefit, and
+who has nothing to give in return?"</p>
+
+<p>There was something in the style of this remark, that heightened my
+prepossession in his favour, and made me pursue my purpose with more
+zeal. "Let us try what we can do for you," I answered. "If we save your
+life, we shall have done you some service, and, as for recompense, we
+will look to that."</p>
+
+<p>It was with considerable difficulty that he was persuaded to accept our
+invitation. He was conducted to a chamber, and, the criticalness of his
+case requiring unusual attention, I spent the night at his bedside.</p>
+
+<p>My wife was encumbered with the care both of her infant and her family.
+The charming babe was in perfect health, but her mother's constitution
+was frail and delicate. We simplified the household duties as much as
+possible, but still these duties were considerably burdensome to one not
+used to the performance, and luxuriously educated. The addition of a
+sick man was likely to be productive of much fatigue. My engagements
+would not allow me to be always at home, and the state of my patient,
+and the remedies necessary to be prescribed, were attended with many
+noxious and disgustful circumstances. My fortune would not allow me to
+hire assistance. My wife, with a feeble frame and a mind shrinking, on
+ordinary occasions, from such offices, with fastidious scrupulousness,
+was to be his only or principal nurse.</p>
+
+<p>My neighbours were fervent in their well-meant zeal, and loud in their
+remonstrances on the imprudence and rashness of my conduct. They called
+me presumptuous and cruel in exposing my wife and child, as well as
+myself, to such imminent hazard, for the sake of one, too, who most
+probably was worthless, and whose disease had doubtless been, by
+negligence or mistreatment, rendered incurable.</p>
+
+<p>I did not turn a deaf ear to these censurers. I was aware of all the
+inconveniences and perils to which I thus spontaneously exposed myself.
+No one knew better the value of that woman whom I called mine, or set a
+higher price upon her life, her health, and her ease. The virulence and
+activity of this contagion, the dangerous condition of my patient, and
+the dubiousness of his character, were not forgotten by me; but still my
+conduct in this affair received my own entire approbation. All
+objections on the score of my friends were removed by her own
+willingness and even solicitude to undertake the province. I had more
+confidence than others in the vincibility of this disease, and in the
+success of those measures which we had used for our defence against it.
+But, whatever were the evils to accrue to us, we were sure of one thing:
+namely, that the consciousness of having neglected this unfortunate
+person would be a source of more unhappiness than could possibly redound
+from the attendance and care that he would claim.</p>
+
+<p>The more we saw of him, indeed, the more did we congratulate ourselves
+on our proceeding. His torments were acute and tedious; but, in the
+midst even of delirium, his heart seemed to overflow with gratitude, and
+to be actuated by no wish but to alleviate our toil and our danger. He
+made prodigious exertions to perform necessary offices for himself. He
+suppressed his feelings and struggled to maintain a cheerful tone and
+countenance, that he might prevent that anxiety which the sight of his
+sufferings produced in us. He was perpetually furnishing reasons why his
+nurse should leave him alone, and betrayed dissatisfaction whenever she
+entered his apartment.</p>
+
+<p>In a few days, there were reasons to conclude him out of danger; and, in
+a fortnight, nothing but exercise and nourishment were wanting to
+complete his restoration. Meanwhile nothing was obtained from him but
+general information, that his place of abode was Chester county, and
+that some momentous engagement induced him to hazard his safety by
+coming to the city in the height of the epidemic.</p>
+
+<p>He was far from being talkative. His silence seemed to be the joint
+result of modesty and unpleasing remembrances. His features were
+characterized by pathetic seriousness, and his deportment by a gravity
+very unusual at his age. According to his own representation, he was no
+more than eighteen years old, but the depth of his remarks indicated a
+much greater advance. His name was Arthur Mervyn. He described himself
+as having passed his life at the plough-tail and the threshing-floor; as
+being destitute of all scholastic instruction; and as being long since
+bereft of the affectionate regards of parents and kinsmen.</p>
+
+<p>When questioned as to the course of life which he meant to pursue upon
+his recovery, he professed himself without any precise object. He was
+willing to be guided by the advice of others, and by the lights which
+experience should furnish. The country was open to him, and he supposed
+that there was no part of it in which food could not be purchased by his
+labour. He was unqualified, by his education, for any liberal
+profession. His poverty was likewise an insuperable impediment. He could
+afford to spend no time in the acquisition of a trade. He must labour,
+not for future emolument, but for immediate subsistence. The only
+pursuit which his present circumstances would allow him to adopt was
+that which, he was inclined to believe, was likewise the most eligible.
+Without doubt his experience was slender, and it seemed absurd to
+pronounce concerning that of which he had no direct knowledge; but so it
+was, he could not outroot from his mind the persuasion that to plough,
+to sow, and to reap, were employments most befitting a reasonable
+creature, and from which the truest pleasure and the least pollution
+would flow. He contemplated no other scheme than to return, as soon as
+his health should permit, into the country, seek employment where it was
+to be had, and acquit himself in his engagements with fidelity and
+diligence.</p>
+
+<p>I pointed out to him various ways in which the city might furnish
+employment to one with his qualifications. He had said that he was
+somewhat accustomed to the pen. There were stations in which the
+possession of a legible hand was all that was requisite. He might add to
+this a knowledge of accounts, and thereby procure himself a post in some
+mercantile or public office.</p>
+
+<p>To this he objected, that experience had shown him unfit for the life of
+a penman. This had been his chief occupation for a little while, and he
+found it wholly incompatible with his health. He must not sacrifice the
+end for the means. Starving was a disease preferable to consumption.
+Besides, he laboured merely for the sake of living, and he lived merely
+for the sake of pleasure. If his tasks should enable him to live, but,
+at the same time, bereave him of all satisfaction, they inflicted
+injury, and were to be shunned as worse evils than death.</p>
+
+<p>I asked to what species of pleasure he alluded, with which the business
+of a clerk was inconsistent.</p>
+
+<p>He answered that he scarcely knew how to describe it. He read books when
+they came in his way. He had lighted upon few, and, perhaps, the
+pleasure they afforded him was owing to their fewness; yet he confessed
+that a mode of life which entirely forbade him to read was by no means
+to his taste. But this was trivial. He knew how to value the thoughts of
+other people, but he could not part with the privilege of observing and
+thinking for himself. He wanted business which would suffer at least
+nine-tenths of his attention to go free. If it afforded agreeable
+employment to that part of his attention which it applied to its own
+use, so much the better; but, if it did not, he should not repine. He
+should be content with a life whose pleasures were to its pains as nine
+are to one. He had tried the trade of a copyist, and in circumstances
+more favourable than it was likely he should ever again have an
+opportunity of trying it, and he had found that it did not fulfil the
+requisite conditions. Whereas the trade of ploughman was friendly to
+health, liberty, and pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>The pestilence, if it may so be called, was now declining. The health of
+my young friend allowed him to breathe the fresh air and to walk. A
+friend of mine, by name Wortley, who had spent two months from the city,
+and to whom, in the course of a familiar correspondence, I had mentioned
+the foregoing particulars, returned from his rural excursion. He was
+posting, on the evening of the day of his arrival, with a friendly
+expedition, to my house, when he overtook Mervyn going in the same
+direction. He was surprised to find him go before him into my dwelling,
+and to discover, which he speedily did, that this was the youth whom I
+had so frequently mentioned to him. I was present at their meeting.</p>
+
+<p>There was a strange mixture in the countenance of Wortley when they were
+presented to each other. His satisfaction was mingled with surprise, and
+his surprise with anger. Mervyn, in his turn, betrayed considerable
+embarrassment. Wortley's thoughts were too earnest on some topic to
+allow him to converse. He shortly made some excuse for taking leave,
+and, rising, addressed himself to the youth with a request that he would
+walk home with him. This invitation, delivered in a tone which left it
+doubtful whether a compliment or menace were meant, augmented Mervyn's
+confusion. He complied without speaking, and they went out together;&mdash;my
+wife and I were left to comment upon the scene.</p>
+
+<p>It could not fail to excite uneasiness. They were evidently no strangers
+to each other. The indignation that flashed from the eyes of Wortley,
+and the trembling consciousness of Mervyn, were unwelcome tokens. The
+former was my dearest friend, and venerable for his discernment and
+integrity. The latter appeared to have drawn upon himself the anger and
+disdain of this man. We already anticipated the shock which the
+discovery of his unworthiness would produce.</p>
+
+<p>In a half-hour Mervyn returned. His embarrassment had given place to
+dejection. He was always serious, but his features were now overcast by
+the deepest gloom. The anxiety which I felt would not allow me to
+hesitate long.</p>
+
+<p>"Arthur," said I, "something is the matter with you. Will you not
+disclose it to us? Perhaps you have brought yourself into some dilemma
+out of which we may help you to escape. Has any thing of an unpleasant
+nature passed between you and Wortley?"</p>
+
+<p>The youth did not readily answer. He seemed at a loss for a suitable
+reply. At length he said that something disagreeable had indeed passed
+between him and Wortley. He had had the misfortune to be connected with
+a man by whom Wortley conceived himself to be injured. He had borne no
+part in inflicting this injury, but had nevertheless been threatened
+with ill treatment if he did not make disclosures which, indeed, it was
+in his power to make, but which he was bound, by every sanction, to
+withhold. This disclosure would be of no benefit to Wortley. It would
+rather operate injuriously than otherwise; yet it was endeavoured to be
+wrested from him by the heaviest menaces. There he paused.</p>
+
+<p>We were naturally inquisitive as to the scope of these menaces; but
+Mervyn entreated us to forbear any further discussion of this topic. He
+foresaw the difficulties to which his silence would subject him. One of
+its most fearful consequences would be the loss of our good opinion. He
+knew not what he had to dread from the enmity of Wortley. Mr. Wortley's
+violence was not without excuse. It was his mishap to be exposed to
+suspicions which could only be obviated by breaking his faith. But,
+indeed, he knew not whether any degree of explicitness would confute the
+charges that were made against him; whether, by trampling on his sacred
+promise, he should not multiply his perils instead of lessening their
+number. A difficult part had been assigned to him; by much too
+difficult for one young, improvident, and inexperienced as he was.</p>
+
+<p>Sincerity, perhaps, was the best course. Perhaps, after having had an
+opportunity for deliberation, he should conclude to adopt it; meanwhile
+he entreated permission to retire to his chamber. He was unable to
+exclude from his mind ideas which yet could, with no propriety, at least
+at present, be made the theme of conversation.</p>
+
+<p>These words were accompanied with simplicity and pathos, and with tokens
+of unaffected distress.</p>
+
+<p>"Arthur," said I, "you are master of your actions and time in this
+house. Retire when you please; but you will naturally suppose us anxious
+to dispel this mystery. Whatever shall tend to obscure or malign your
+character will of course excite our solicitude. Wortley is not
+short-sighted or hasty to condemn. So great is my confidence in his
+integrity that I will not promise my esteem to one who has irrecoverably
+lost that of Wortley. I am not acquainted with your motives to
+concealment, or what it is you conceal; but take the word of one who
+possesses that experience which you complain of wanting, that sincerity
+is always safest."</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he had retired, my curiosity prompted me to pay an immediate
+visit to Wortley. I found him at home. He was no less desirous of an
+interview, and answered my inquiries with as much eagerness as they were
+made.</p>
+
+<p>"You know," said he, "my disastrous connection with Thomas Welbeck. You
+recollect his sudden disappearance last July, by which I was reduced to
+the brink of ruin. Nay, I am, even now, far from certain that I shall
+survive that event. I spoke to you about the youth who lived with him,
+and by what means that youth was discovered to have crossed the river in
+his company on the night of his departure. This is that very youth.</p>
+
+<p>"This will account for my emotion at meeting him at your house; I
+brought him out with me. His confusion sufficiently indicated his
+knowledge of transactions between Welbeck and me. I questioned him as to
+the fate of that man. To own the truth, I expected some well-digested
+lie; but he merely said that he had promised secrecy on that subject,
+and must therefore be excused from giving me any information. I asked
+him if he knew that his master, or accomplice, or whatever was his
+relation to him, absconded in my debt? He answered that he knew it well;
+but still pleaded a promise of inviolable secrecy as to his
+hiding-place. This conduct justly exasperated me, and I treated him with
+the severity which he deserved. I am half ashamed to confess the
+excesses of my passion; I even went so far as to strike him. He bore my
+insults with the utmost patience. No doubt the young villain is well
+instructed in his lesson. He knows that he may safely defy my power.
+From threats I descended to entreaties. I even endeavoured to wind the
+truth from him by artifice. I promised him a part of the debt if he
+would enable me to recover the whole. I offered him a considerable
+reward if he would merely afford me a clue by which I might trace him to
+his retreat; but all was insufficient. He merely put on an air of
+perplexity and shook his head in token of non-compliance."</p>
+
+<p>Such was my friend's account of this interview. His suspicions were
+unquestionably plausible; but I was disposed to put a more favourable
+construction on Mervyn's behaviour. I recollected the desolate and
+penniless condition in which I found him, and the uniform complacency
+and rectitude of his deportment for the period during which we had
+witnessed it. These ideas had considerable influence on my judgment, and
+indisposed me to follow the advice of my friend, which was to turn him
+forth from my doors that very night.</p>
+
+<p>My wife's prepossessions were still more powerful advocates of this
+youth. She would vouch, she said, before any tribunal, for his
+innocence; but she willingly concurred with me in allowing him the
+continuance of our friendship on no other condition than that of a
+disclosure of the truth. To entitle ourselves to this confidence we were
+willing to engage, in our turn, for the observance of secrecy, so far
+that no detriment should accrue from this disclosure to himself or his
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning, at breakfast, our guest appeared with a countenance less
+expressive of embarrassment than on the last evening. His attention was
+chiefly engaged by his own thoughts, and little was said till the
+breakfast was removed. I then reminded him of the incidents of the
+former day, and mentioned that the uneasiness which thence arose to us
+had rather been increased than diminished by time.</p>
+
+<p>"It is in your power, my young friend," continued I, "to add still more
+to this uneasiness, or to take it entirely away. I had no personal
+acquaintance with Thomas Welbeck. I have been informed by others that
+his character, for a certain period, was respectable, but that, at
+length, he contracted large debts, and, instead of paying them,
+absconded. You, it seems, lived with him. On the night of his departure
+you are known to have accompanied him across the river, and this, it
+seems, is the first of your reappearance on the stage. Welbeck's conduct
+was dishonest. He ought doubtless to be pursued to his asylum and be
+compelled to refund his winnings. You confess yourself to know his place
+of refuge, but urge a promise of secrecy. Know you not that to assist or
+connive at the escape of this man was wrong? To have promised to favour
+his concealment and impunity by silence was only an aggravation of this
+wrong. That, however, is past. Your youth, and circumstances, hitherto
+unexplained, may apologize for that misconduct; but it is certainly your
+duty to repair it to the utmost of your power. Think whether, by
+disclosing what you know, you will not repair it."</p>
+
+<p>"I have spent most of last night," said the youth, "in reflecting on
+this subject. I had come to a resolution, before you spoke, of confiding
+to you my simple tale. I perceive in what circumstances I am placed, and
+that I can keep my hold of your good opinion only by a candid
+deportment. I have indeed given a promise which it was wrong, or rather
+absurd, in another to exact, and in me to give; yet none but
+considerations of the highest importance would persuade me to break my
+promise. No injury will accrue from my disclosure to Welbeck. If there
+should, dishonest as he was, that would be a sufficient reason for my
+silence. Wortley will not, in any degree, be benefited by any
+communication that I can make. Whether I grant or withhold information,
+my conduct will have influence only on my own happiness, and that
+influence will justify me in granting it.</p>
+
+<p>"I received your protection when I was friendless and forlorn. You have
+a right to know whom it is that you protected. My own fate is connected
+with the fate of Welbeck, and that connection, together with the
+interest you are pleased to take in my concerns, because they are mine,
+will render a tale worthy of attention which will not be recommended by
+variety of facts or skill in the display of them.</p>
+
+<p>"Wortley, though passionate, and, with regard to me, unjust, may yet be
+a good man; but I have no desire to make him one of my auditors. You,
+sir, may, if you think proper, relate to him afterwards what particulars
+concerning Welbeck it may be of importance for him to know; but at
+present it will be well if your indulgence shall support me to the end
+of a tedious but humble tale."</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of my Eliza sparkled with delight at this proposal. She
+regarded this youth with a sisterly affection, and considered his
+candour, in this respect, as an unerring test of his rectitude. She was
+prepared to hear and to forgive the errors of inexperience and
+precipitation. I did not fully participate in her satisfaction, but was
+nevertheless most zealously disposed to listen to his narrative.</p>
+
+<p>My engagements obliged me to postpone this rehearsal till late in the
+evening. Collected then round a cheerful hearth, exempt from all
+likelihood of interruption from without, and our babe's unpractised
+senses shut up in the sweetest and profoundest sleep, Mervyn, after a
+pause of recollection, began.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+
+<p>My natal soil is Chester county. My father had a small farm, on which he
+has been able, by industry, to maintain himself and a numerous family.
+He has had many children, but some defect in the constitution of our
+mother has been fatal to all of them but me. They died successively as
+they attained the age of nineteen or twenty, and, since I have not yet
+reached that age, I may reasonably look for the same premature fate. In
+the spring of last year my mother followed her fifth child to the grave,
+and three months afterwards died herself.</p>
+
+<p>My constitution has always been frail, and, till the death of my mother,
+I enjoyed unlimited indulgence. I cheerfully sustained my portion of
+labour, for that necessity prescribed; but the intervals were always at
+my own disposal, and, in whatever manner I thought proper to employ
+them, my plans were encouraged and assisted. Fond appellations, tones of
+mildness, solicitous attendance when I was sick, deference to my
+opinions, and veneration for my talents, compose the image which I still
+retain of my mother. I had the thoughtlessness and presumption of youth,
+and, now that she is gone, my compunction is awakened by a thousand
+recollections of my treatment of her. I was indeed guilty of no flagrant
+acts of contempt or rebellion. Perhaps her deportment was inevitably
+calculated to instil into me a froward and refractory spirit. My faults,
+however, were speedily followed by repentance, and, in the midst of
+impatience and passion, a look of tender upbraiding from her was always
+sufficient to melt me into tears and make me ductile to her will. If
+sorrow for her loss be an atonement for the offences which I committed
+during her life, ample atonement has been made.</p>
+
+<p>My father is a man of slender capacity, but of a temper easy and
+flexible. He was sober and industrious by habit. He was content to be
+guided by the superior intelligence of his wife. Under this guidance he
+prospered; but, when that was withdrawn, his affairs soon began to
+betray marks of unskilfulness and negligence. My understanding, perhaps,
+qualified me to counsel and assist my father, but I was wholly
+unaccustomed to the task of superintendence. Besides, gentleness and
+fortitude did not descend to me from my mother, and these were
+indispensable attributes in a boy who desires to dictate to his
+gray-headed parent. Time, perhaps, might have conferred dexterity on me,
+or prudence on him, had not a most unexpected event given a different
+direction to my views.</p>
+
+<p>Betty Lawrence was a wild girl from the pine-forests of New Jersey. At
+the age of ten years she became a bound servant in this city, and, after
+the expiration of her time, came into my father's neighbourhood in
+search of employment. She was hired in our family as milkmaid and
+market-woman. Her features were coarse, her frame robust, her mind
+totally unlettered, and her morals defective in that point in which
+female excellence is supposed chiefly to consist. She possessed
+super-abundant health and good-humour, and was quite a supportable
+companion in the hay-field or the barnyard.</p>
+
+<p>On the death of my mother, she was exalted to a somewhat higher station.
+The same tasks fell to her lot; but the time and manner of performing
+them were, in some degree, submitted to her own choice. The cows and the
+dairy were still her province; but in this no one interfered with her or
+pretended to prescribe her measures. For this province she seemed not
+unqualified, and, as long as my father was pleased with her management,
+I had nothing to object.</p>
+
+<p>This state of things continued, without material variation, for several
+months. There were appearances in my father's deportment to Betty, which
+excited my reflections, but not my fears. The deference which was
+occasionally paid to the advice or the claims of this girl was accounted
+for by that feebleness of mind which degraded my father, in whatever
+scene he should be placed, to be the tool of others. I had no conception
+that her claims extended beyond a temporary or superficial
+gratification.</p>
+
+<p>At length, however, a visible change took place in her manners. A
+scornful affectation and awkward dignity began to be assumed. A greater
+attention was paid to dress, which was of gayer hues and more
+fashionable texture. I rallied her on these tokens of a sweetheart, and
+amused myself with expatiating to her on the qualifications of her
+lover. A clownish fellow was frequently her visitant. His attentions did
+not appear to be discouraged. He therefore was readily supposed to be
+the man. When pointed out as the favourite, great resentment was
+expressed, and obscure insinuations were made that her aim was not quite
+so low as that. These denials I supposed to be customary on such
+occasions, and considered the continuance of his visits as a sufficient
+confutation of them.</p>
+
+<p>I frequently spoke of Betty, her newly-acquired dignity, and of the
+probable cause of her change of manners, to my father. When this theme
+was started, a certain coldness and reserve overspread his features. He
+dealt in monosyllables, and either laboured to change the subject or
+made some excuse for leaving me. This behaviour, though it occasioned
+surprise, was never very deeply reflected on. My father was old, and the
+mournful impressions which were made upon him by the death of his wife,
+the lapse of almost half a year seemed scarcely to have weakened. Betty
+had chosen her partner, and I was in daily expectation of receiving a
+summons to the wedding.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon this girl dressed herself in the gayest manner and seemed
+making preparations for some momentous ceremony. My father had directed
+me to put the horse to the chaise. On my inquiring whither he was going,
+he answered me, in general terms, that he had some business at a few
+miles' distance. I offered to go in his stead, but he said that was
+impossible. I was proceeding to ascertain the possibility of this when
+he left me to go to a field where his workmen were busy, directing me to
+inform him when the chaise was ready, to supply his place, while
+absent, in overlooking the workmen.</p>
+
+<p>This office was performed; but before I called him from the field I
+exchanged a few words with the milkmaid, who sat on a bench, in all the
+primness of expectation, and decked with the most gaudy plumage. I rated
+her imaginary lover for his tardiness, and vowed eternal hatred to them
+both for not making me a bride's attendant. She listened to me with an
+air in which embarrassment was mingled sometimes with exultation and
+sometimes with malice. I left her at length, and returned to the house
+not till a late hour. As soon as I entered, my father presented Betty to
+me as his wife, and desired she might receive that treatment from me
+which was due to a mother.</p>
+
+<p>It was not till after repeated and solemn declarations from both of them
+that I was prevailed upon to credit this event. Its effect upon my
+feelings may be easily conceived. I knew the woman to be rude, ignorant,
+and licentious. Had I suspected this event, I might have fortified my
+father's weakness and enabled him to shun the gulf to which he was
+tending; but my presumption had been careless of the danger. To think
+that such a one should take the place of my revered mother was
+intolerable.</p>
+
+<p>To treat her in any way not squaring with her real merits; to hinder
+anger and scorn from rising at the sight of her in her new condition,
+was not in my power. To be degraded to the rank of her servant, to
+become the sport of her malice and her artifices, was not to be endured.
+I had no independent provision; but I was the only child of my father,
+and had reasonably hoped to succeed to his patrimony. On this hope I had
+built a thousand agreeable visions. I had meditated innumerable projects
+which the possession of this estate would enable me to execute. I had no
+wish beyond the trade of agriculture, and beyond the opulence which a
+hundred acres would give.</p>
+
+<p>These visions were now at an end. No doubt her own interest would be, to
+this woman, the supreme law, and this would be considered as
+irreconcilably hostile to mine. My father would easily be moulded to
+her purpose, and that act easily extorted from him which should reduce
+me to beggary. She had a gross and perverse taste. She had a numerous
+kindred, indigent and hungry. On these his substance would speedily be
+lavished. Me she hated, because she was conscious of having injured me,
+because she knew that I held her in contempt, and because I had detected
+her in an illicit intercourse with the son of a neighbour.</p>
+
+<p>The house in which I lived was no longer my own, nor even my father's.
+Hitherto I had thought and acted in it with the freedom of a master; but
+now I was become, in my own conceptions, an alien and an enemy to the
+roof under which I was born. Every tie which had bound me to it was
+dissolved or converted into something which repelled me to a distance
+from it. I was a guest whose presence was borne with anger and
+impatience.</p>
+
+<p>I was fully impressed with the necessity of removal, but I knew not
+whither to go, or what kind of subsistence to seek. My father had been a
+Scottish emigrant, and had no kindred on this side of the ocean. My
+mother's family lived in New Hampshire, and long separation had
+extinguished all the rights of relationship in her offspring. Tilling
+the earth was my only profession, and, to profit by my skill in it, it
+would be necessary to become a day-labourer in the service of strangers;
+but this was a destiny to which I, who had so long enjoyed the pleasures
+of independence and command, could not suddenly reconcile myself. It
+occurred to me that the city might afford me an asylum. A short day's
+journey would transport me into it. I had been there twice or thrice in
+my life, but only for a few hours each time. I knew not a human face,
+and was a stranger to its modes and dangers. I was qualified for no
+employment, compatible with a town life, but that of the pen. This,
+indeed, had ever been a favourite tool with me; and, though it may
+appear somewhat strange, it is no less true that I had had nearly as
+much practice at the quill as at the mattock. But the sum of my skill
+lay in tracing distinct characters. I had used it merely to transcribe
+what others had written, or to give form to my own conceptions. Whether
+the city would afford me employment, as a mere copyist, sufficiently
+lucrative, was a point on which I possessed no means of information.</p>
+
+<p>My determination was hastened by the conduct of my new mother. My
+conjectures as to the course she would pursue with regard to me had not
+been erroneous. My father's deportment, in a short time, grew sullen and
+austere. Directions were given in a magisterial tone, and any remissness
+in the execution of his orders was rebuked with an air of authority. At
+length these rebukes were followed by certain intimations that I was now
+old enough to provide for myself; that it was time to think of some
+employment by which I might secure a livelihood; that it was a shame for
+me to spend my youth in idleness; that what he had gained was by his own
+labour; and I must be indebted for my living to the same source.</p>
+
+<p>These hints were easily understood. At first, they excited indignation
+and grief. I knew the source whence they sprung, and was merely able to
+suppress the utterance of my feelings in her presence. My looks,
+however, were abundantly significant, and my company became hourly more
+insupportable. Abstracted from these considerations, my father's
+remonstrances were not destitute of weight. He gave me being, but
+sustenance ought surely to be my own gift. In the use of that for which
+he had been indebted to his own exertions, he might reasonably consult
+his own choice. He assumed no control over me; he merely did what he
+would with his own, and, so far from fettering my liberty, he exhorted
+me to use it for my own benefit, and to make provision for myself.</p>
+
+<p>I now reflected that there were other manual occupations besides that of
+the plough. Among these none had fewer disadvantages than that of
+carpenter or cabinet-maker. I had no knowledge of this art; but neither
+custom, nor law, nor the impenetrableness of the mystery, required me to
+serve a seven years' apprenticeship to it. A master in this trade might
+possibly be persuaded to take me under his tuition; two or three years
+would suffice to give me the requisite skill. Meanwhile my father would,
+perhaps, consent to bear the cost of my maintenance. Nobody could live
+upon less than I was willing to do.</p>
+
+<p>I mentioned these ideas to my father; but he merely commended my
+intentions without offering to assist me in the execution of them. He
+had full employment, he said, for all the profits of his ground. No
+doubt, if I would bind myself to serve four or five years, my master
+would be at the expense of my subsistence. Be that as it would, I must
+look for nothing from him. I had shown very little regard for his
+happiness; I had refused all marks of respect to a woman who was
+entitled to it from her relation to him. He did not see why he should
+treat as a son one who refused what was due to him as a father. He
+thought it right that I should henceforth maintain myself. He did not
+want my services on the farm, and the sooner I quitted his house the
+better.</p>
+
+<p>I retired from this conference with a resolution to follow the advice
+that was given. I saw that henceforth I must be my own protector, and
+wondered at the folly that detained me so long under his roof. To leave
+it was now become indispensable, and there could be no reason for
+delaying my departure for a single hour. I determined to bend my course
+to the city. The scheme foremost in my mind was to apprentice myself to
+some mechanical trade. I did not overlook the evils of constraint and
+the dubiousness as to the character of the master I should choose. I was
+not without hopes that accident would suggest a different expedient, and
+enable me to procure an immediate subsistence without forfeiting my
+liberty.</p>
+
+<p>I determined to commence my journey the next morning. No wonder the
+prospect of so considerable a change in my condition should deprive me
+of sleep. I spent the night ruminating on the future, and in painting to
+my fancy the adventures which I should be likely to meet. The foresight
+of man is in proportion to his knowledge. No wonder that, in my state of
+profound ignorance, not the faintest preconception should be formed of
+the events that really befell me. My temper was inquisitive, but there
+was nothing in the scene to which I was going from which my curiosity
+expected to derive gratification. Discords and evil smells, unsavoury
+food, unwholesome labour, and irksome companions, were, in my opinion,
+the unavoidable attendants of a city.</p>
+
+<p>My best clothes were of the homeliest texture and shape. My whole stock
+of linen consisted of three check shirts. Part of my winter evenings'
+employment, since the death of my mother, consisted in knitting my own
+stockings. Of these I had three pair, one of which I put on, and the
+rest I formed, together with two shirts, into a bundle. Three
+quarter-dollar pieces composed my whole fortune in money.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I rose at the dawn, and, without asking or bestowing a blessing, sallied
+forth into the highroad to the city, which passed near the house. I left
+nothing behind, the loss of which I regretted. I had purchased most of
+my own books with the product of my own separate industry, and, their
+number being, of course, small, I had, by incessant application, gotten
+the whole of them by rote. They had ceased, therefore, to be of any
+further use. I left them, without reluctance, to the fate for which I
+knew them to be reserved, that of affording food and habitation to mice.</p>
+
+<p>I trod this unwonted path with all the fearlessness of youth. In spite
+of the motives to despondency and apprehension incident to my state, my
+heels were light and my heart joyous. "Now," said I, "I am mounted into
+man. I must build a name and a fortune for myself. Strange if this
+intellect and these hands will not supply me with an honest livelihood.
+I will try the city in the first place; but, if that should fail,
+resources are still left to me. I will resume my post in the cornfield
+and threshing-floor, to which I shall always have access, and where I
+shall always be happy."</p>
+
+<p>I had proceeded some miles on my journey, when I began to feel the
+inroads of hunger. I might have stopped at any farm-house, and have
+breakfasted for nothing. It was prudent to husband, with the utmost
+care, my slender stock; but I felt reluctance to beg as long as I had
+the means of buying, and I imagined that coarse bread and a little milk
+would cost little even at a tavern, when any farmer was willing to
+bestow them for nothing. My resolution was further influenced by the
+appearance of a signpost. What excuse could I make for begging a
+breakfast with an inn at hand and silver in my pocket?</p>
+
+<p>I stopped, accordingly, and breakfasted. The landlord was remarkably
+attentive and obliging, but his bread was stale, his milk sour, and his
+cheese the greenest imaginable. I disdained to animadvert on these
+defects, naturally supposing that his house could furnish no better.</p>
+
+<p>Having finished my meal, I put, without speaking, one of my pieces into
+his hand. This deportment I conceived to be highly becoming, and to
+indicate a liberal and manly spirit. I always regarded with contempt a
+scrupulous maker of bargains. He received the money with a complaisant
+obeisance. "Right," said he. "<i>Just</i> the money, sir. You are on foot,
+sir. A pleasant way of travelling, sir. I wish you a good day, sir." So
+saying, he walked away.</p>
+
+<p>This proceeding was wholly unexpected. I conceived myself entitled to at
+least three-fourths of it in change. The first impulse was to call him
+back, and contest the equity of his demand; but a moment's reflection
+showed me the absurdity of such conduct. I resumed my journey with
+spirits somewhat depressed. I have heard of voyagers and wanderers in
+deserts, who were willing to give a casket of gems for a cup of cold
+water. I had not supposed my own condition to be, in any respect,
+similar; yet I had just given one-third of my estate for a breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>I stopped at noon at another inn. I counted on purchasing a dinner for
+the same price, since I meant to content myself with the same fare. A
+large company was just sitting down to a smoking banquet. The landlord
+invited me to join them. I took my place at the table, but was furnished
+with bread and milk. Being prepared to depart, I took him aside. "What
+is to pay?" said I.&mdash;"Did you drink any thing, sir?"&mdash;"Certainly. I
+drank the milk which was furnished."&mdash;"But any liquors, sir?"&mdash;-"No."</p>
+
+<p>He deliberated a moment, and then, assuming an air of disinterestedness,
+"'Tis our custom to charge dinner and club; but, as you drank nothing,
+we'll let the club go. A mere dinner is half a dollar, sir."</p>
+
+<p>He had no leisure to attend to my fluctuations. After debating with
+myself on what was to be done, I concluded that compliance was best,
+and, leaving the money at the bar, resumed my way.</p>
+
+<p>I had not performed more than half my journey, yet my purse was entirely
+exhausted. This was a specimen of the cost incurred by living at an inn.
+If I entered the city, a tavern must, at least for some time, be my
+abode; but I had not a farthing remaining to defray my charges. My
+father had formerly entertained a boarder for a dollar per week, and, in
+case of need, I was willing to subsist upon coarser fare and lie on a
+harder bed than those with which our guest had been supplied. These
+facts had been the foundation of my negligence on this occasion.</p>
+
+<p>What was now to be done? To return to my paternal mansion was
+impossible. To relinquish my design of entering the city and to seek a
+temporary asylum, if not permanent employment, at some one of the
+plantations within view, was the most obvious expedient. These
+deliberations did not slacken my pace. I was almost unmindful of my way,
+when I found I had passed Schuylkill at the upper bridge. I was now
+within the precincts of the city, and night was hastening. It behooved
+me to come to a speedy decision.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly I recollected that I had not paid the customary toll at the
+bridge; neither had I money wherewith to pay it. A demand of payment
+would have suddenly arrested my progress; and so slight an incident
+would have precluded that wonderful destiny to which I was reserved. The
+obstacle that would have hindered my advance now prevented my return.
+Scrupulous honesty did not require me to turn back and awaken the
+vigilance of the toll-gatherer. I had nothing to pay, and by returning I
+should only double my debt. "Let it stand," said I, "where it does. All
+that honour enjoins is to pay when I am able."</p>
+
+<p>I adhered to the crossways, till I reached Market Street. Night had
+fallen, and a triple row of lamps presented a spectacle enchanting and
+new. My personal cares were, for a time, lost in the tumultuous
+sensations with which I was now engrossed. I had never visited the city
+at this hour. When my last visit was paid, I was a mere child. The
+novelty which environed every object was, therefore, nearly absolute. I
+proceeded with more cautious steps, but was still absorbed in attention
+to passing objects. I reached the market-house, and, entering it,
+indulged myself in new delight and new wonder.</p>
+
+<p>I need not remark that our ideas of magnificence and splendour are
+merely comparative; yet you may be prompted to smile when I tell you
+that, in walking through this avenue, I, for a moment, conceived myself
+transported to the hall "pendent with many a row of starry lamps and
+blazing crescents fed by naphtha and asphaltos." That this transition
+from my homely and quiet retreat had been effected in so few hours wore
+the aspect of miracle or magic.</p>
+
+<p>I proceeded from one of these buildings to another, till I reached their
+termination in Front Street. Here my progress was checked, and I sought
+repose to my weary limbs by seating myself on a stall. No wonder some
+fatigue was felt by me, accustomed as I was to strenuous exertions,
+since, exclusive of the minutes spent at breakfast and dinner, I had
+travelled fifteen hours and forty-five miles.</p>
+
+<p>I began now to reflect, with some earnestness, on my condition. I was a
+stranger, friendless and moneyless. I was unable to purchase food and
+shelter, and was wholly unused to the business of begging. Hunger was
+the only serious inconvenience to which I was immediately exposed. I had
+no objection to spend the night in the spot where I then sat. I had no
+fear that my visions would be troubled by the officers of police. It was
+no crime to be without a home; but how should I supply my present
+cravings and the cravings of to-morrow?</p>
+
+<p>At length it occurred to me that one of our country neighbours was
+probably at this time in the city. He kept a store as well as cultivated
+a farm. He was a plain and well-meaning man, and, should I be so
+fortunate as to meet him, his superior knowledge of the city might be of
+essential benefit to me in my present forlorn circumstances. His
+generosity might likewise induce him to lend me so much as would
+purchase one meal. I had formed the resolution to leave the city next
+day, and was astonished at the folly that had led me into it; but,
+meanwhile, my physical wants must be supplied.</p>
+
+<p>Where should I look for this man? In the course of conversation I
+recollected him to have referred to the place of his temporary abode. It
+was an inn; but the sign or the name of the keeper for some time
+withstood all my efforts to recall them.</p>
+
+<p>At length I lighted on the last. It was Lesher's tavern. I immediately
+set out in search of it. After many inquiries, I at last arrived at the
+door. I was preparing to enter the house when I perceived that my bundle
+was gone. I had left it on the stall where I had been sitting. People
+were perpetually passing to and fro. It was scarcely possible not to
+have been noticed. No one that observed it would fail to make it his
+prey. Yet it was of too much value to me to allow me to be governed by a
+bare probability. I resolved to lose not a moment in returning.</p>
+
+<p>With some difficulty I retraced my steps, but the bundle had
+disappeared. The clothes were, in themselves, of small value, but they
+constituted the whole of my wardrobe; and I now reflected that they were
+capable of being transmuted, by the pawn or sale of them, into food.
+There were other wretches as indigent as I was, and I consoled myself by
+thinking that my shirts and stockings might furnish a seasonable
+covering to their nakedness; but there was a relic concealed within this
+bundle, the loss of which could scarcely be endured by me. It was the
+portrait of a young man who died three years ago at my father's house,
+drawn by his own hand.</p>
+
+<p>He was discovered one morning in the orchard with many marks of insanity
+upon him. His air and dress bespoke some elevation of rank and fortune.
+My mother's compassion was excited, and, as his singularities were
+harmless, an asylum was afforded him, though he was unable to pay for
+it. He was constantly declaiming, in an incoherent manner, about some
+mistress who had proved faithless. His speeches seemed, however, like
+the rantings of an actor, to be rehearsed by rote or for the sake of
+exercise. He was totally careless of his person and health, and, by
+repeated negligences of this kind, at last contracted a fever of which
+he speedily died. The name which he assumed was Clavering.</p>
+
+<p>He gave no distinct account of his family, but stated, in loose terms,
+that they were residents in England, high-born and wealthy. That they
+had denied him the woman whom he loved and banished him to America,
+under penalty of death if he should dare to return, and that they had
+refused him all means of subsistence in a foreign land. He predicted, in
+his wild and declamatory way, his own death. He was very skilful at the
+pencil, and drew this portrait a short time before his dissolution,
+presented it to me, and charged me to preserve it in remembrance of him.
+My mother loved the youth because he was amiable and unfortunate, and
+chiefly because she fancied a very powerful resemblance between his
+countenance and mine. I was too young to build affection on any rational
+foundation. I loved him, for whatever reason, with an ardour unusual at
+my age, and which this portrait had contributed to prolong and to
+cherish.</p>
+
+<p>In thus finally leaving my home, I was careful not to leave this picture
+behind. I wrapped it in paper in which a few elegiac stanzas were
+inscribed in my own hand, and with my utmost elegance of penmanship. I
+then placed it in a leathern case, which, for greater security, was
+deposited in the centre of my bundle. It will occur to you, perhaps,
+that it would be safer in some fold or pocket of the clothes which I
+wore. I was of a different opinion, and was now to endure the penalty of
+my error.</p>
+
+<p>It was in vain to heap execrations on my negligence, or to consume the
+little strength left to me in regrets. I returned once more to the
+tavern and made inquiries for Mr. Capper, the person whom I have just
+mentioned as my father's neighbour. I was informed that Capper was now
+in town; that he had lodged, on the last night, at this house; that he
+had expected to do the same to-night, but a gentleman had called ten
+minutes ago, whose invitation to lodge with him to-night had been
+accepted. They had just gone out together. Who, I asked, was the
+gentleman? The landlord had no knowledge of him; he knew neither his
+place of abode nor his name. Was Mr. Capper expected to return hither in
+the morning? No; he had heard the stranger propose to Mr. Capper to go
+with him into the country to-morrow, and Mr. Capper, he believed, had
+assented.</p>
+
+<p>This disappointment was peculiarly severe. I had lost, by my own
+negligence, the only opportunity that would offer of meeting my friend.
+Had even the recollection of my loss been postponed for three minutes, I
+should have entered the house, and a meeting would have been secured. I
+could discover no other expedient to obviate the present evil. My heart
+began now, for the first time, to droop. I looked back, with nameless
+emotions, on the days of my infancy. I called up the image of my mother.
+I reflected on the infatuation of my surviving parent, and the
+usurpation of the detestable Betty, with horror. I viewed myself as the
+most calamitous and desolate of human beings.</p>
+
+<p>At this time I was sitting in the common room. There were others in the
+same apartment, lounging, or whistling, or singing. I noticed them not,
+but, leaning my head upon my hand, I delivered myself up to painful and
+intense meditation. From this I was roused by some one placing himself
+on the bench near me and addressing me thus:&mdash;"Pray, sir, if you will
+excuse me, who was the person whom you were looking for just now?
+Perhaps I can give you the information you want. If I can, you will be
+very welcome to it." I fixed my eyes with some eagerness on the person
+that spoke. He was a young man, expensively and fashionably dressed,
+whose mien was considerably prepossessing, and whose countenance bespoke
+some portion of discernment. I described to him the man whom I sought.
+"I am in search of the same man myself," said he, "but I expect to meet
+him here. He may lodge elsewhere, but he promised to meet me here at
+half after nine. I have no doubt he will fulfil his promise, so that you
+will meet the gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>I was highly gratified by this information, and thanked my informant
+with some degree of warmth. My gratitude he did not notice, but
+continued: "In order to beguile expectation, I have ordered supper;
+will you do me the favour to partake with me, unless indeed you have
+supped already?" I was obliged, somewhat awkwardly, to decline his
+invitation, conscious as I was that the means of payment were not in my
+power. He continued, however, to urge my compliance till at length it
+was, though reluctantly, yielded. My chief motive was the certainty of
+seeing Capper.</p>
+
+<p>My new acquaintance was exceedingly conversible, but his conversation
+was chiefly characterized by frankness and good-humour. My reserve
+gradually diminished, and I ventured to inform him, in general terms, of
+my former condition and present views. He listened to my details with
+seeming attention, and commented on them with some judiciousness. His
+statements, however, tended to discourage me from remaining in the city.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the hour passed and Capper did not appear. I noticed this
+circumstance to him with no little solicitude. He said that possibly he
+might have forgotten or neglected his engagement. His affair was not of
+the highest importance, and might be readily postponed to a future
+opportunity. He perceived that my vivacity was greatly damped by this
+intelligence. He importuned me to disclose the cause. He made himself
+very merry with my distress, when it was at length discovered. As to the
+expense of supper, I had partaken of it at his invitation; he therefore
+should of course be charged with it. As to lodging, he had a chamber and
+a bed, which he would insist upon my sharing with him.</p>
+
+<p>My faculties were thus kept upon the stretch of wonder. Every new act of
+kindness in this man surpassed the fondest expectation that I had
+formed. I saw no reason why I should be treated with benevolence. I
+should have acted in the same manner if placed in the same
+circumstances; yet it appeared incongruous and inexplicable. I know
+whence my ideas of human nature were derived. They certainly were not
+the offspring of my own feelings. These would have taught me that
+interest and duty were blended in every act of generosity.</p>
+
+<p>I did not come into the world without my scruples and suspicions. I was
+more apt to impute kindnesses to sinister and hidden than to obvious and
+laudable motives.</p>
+
+<p>I paused to reflect upon the possible designs of this person. What end
+could be served by this behaviour? I was no subject of violence or
+fraud. I had neither trinket nor coin to stimulate the treachery of
+others. What was offered was merely lodging for the night. Was this an
+act of such transcendent disinterestedness as to be incredible? My garb
+was meaner than that of my companion, but my intellectual
+accomplishments were at least upon a level with his. Why should he be
+supposed to be insensible to my claims upon his kindness? I was a youth
+destitute of experience, money, and friends; but I was not devoid of all
+mental and personal endowments. That my merit should be discovered, even
+on such slender intercourse, had surely nothing in it that shocked
+belief.</p>
+
+<p>While I was thus deliberating, my new friend was earnest in his
+solicitations for my company. He remarked my hesitation, but ascribed it
+to a wrong cause. "Come," said he, "I can guess your objections and can
+obviate them. You are afraid of being ushered into company; and people
+who have passed their lives like you have a wonderful antipathy to
+strange faces; but this is bedtime with our family, so that we can defer
+your introduction to them till to-morrow. We may go to our chamber
+without being seen by any but servants."</p>
+
+<p>I had not been aware of this circumstance. My reluctance flowed from a
+different cause, but, now that the inconveniences of ceremony were
+mentioned, they appeared to me of considerable weight. I was well
+pleased that they should thus be avoided, and consented to go along with
+him.</p>
+
+<p>We passed several streets and turned several corners. At last we turned
+into a kind of court which seemed to be chiefly occupied by stables. "We
+will go," said he, "by the back way into the house. We shall thus save
+ourselves the necessity of entering the parlour, where some of the
+family may still be."</p>
+
+<p>My companion was as talkative as ever, but said nothing from which I
+could gather any knowledge of the number, character, and condition of
+his family.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
+
+
+<p>We arrived at a brick wall, through which we passed by a gate into an
+extensive court or yard. The darkness would allow me to see nothing but
+outlines. Compared with the pigmy dimensions of my father's wooden
+hovel, the buildings before me were of gigantic loftiness. The horses
+were here far more magnificently accommodated than I had been. By a
+large door we entered an elevated hall. "Stay here," said he, "just
+while I fetch a light."</p>
+
+<p>He returned, bearing a candle, before I had time to ponder on my present
+situation.</p>
+
+<p>We now ascended a staircase, covered with painted canvas. No one whose
+inexperience is less than mine can imagine to himself the impressions
+made upon me by surrounding objects. The height to which this stair
+ascended, its dimensions, and its ornaments, appeared to me a
+combination of all that was pompous and superb.</p>
+
+<p>We stopped not till we had reached the third story. Here my companion
+unlocked and led the way into a chamber. "This," said he, "is my room;
+permit me to welcome you into it."</p>
+
+<p>I had no time to examine this room before, by some accident, the candle
+was extinguished. "Curse upon my carelessness!" said he. "I must go down
+again and light the candle. I will return in a twinkling. Meanwhile you
+may undress yourself and go to bed." He went out, and, as I afterwards
+recollected, locked the door behind him.</p>
+
+<p>I was not indisposed to follow his advice, but my curiosity would first
+be gratified by a survey of the room. Its height and spaciousness were
+imperfectly discernible by starlight, and by gleams from a street-lamp.
+The floor was covered with a carpet, the walls with brilliant hangings;
+the bed and windows were shrouded by curtains of a rich texture and
+glossy hues. Hitherto I had merely read of these things. I knew them to
+be the decorations of opulence; and yet, as I viewed them, and
+remembered where and what I was on the same hour the preceding day, I
+could scarcely believe myself awake, or that my senses were not beguiled
+by some spell.</p>
+
+<p>"Where," said I, "will this adventure terminate? I rise on the morrow
+with the dawn and speed into the country. When this night is remembered,
+how like a vision will it appear! If I tell the tale by a kitchen-fire,
+my veracity will be disputed. I shall be ranked with the story-tellers
+of Shiraz and Bagdad."</p>
+
+<p>Though busied in these reflections, I was not inattentive to the
+progress of time. Methought my companion was remarkably dilatory. He
+went merely to relight his candle, but certainly he might, during this
+time, have performed the operation ten times over. Some unforeseen
+accident might occasion his delay.</p>
+
+<p>Another interval passed, and no tokens of his coming. I began now to
+grow uneasy. I was unable to account for his detention. Was not some
+treachery designed? I went to the door, and found that it was locked.
+This heightened my suspicions. I was alone, a stranger, in an upper room
+of the house. Should my conductor have disappeared, by design or by
+accident, and some one of the family should find me here, what would be
+the consequence? Should I not be arrested as a thief, and conveyed to
+prison? My transition from the street to this chamber would not be more
+rapid than my passage hence to a jail.</p>
+
+<p>These ideas struck me with panic. I revolved them anew, but they only
+acquired greater plausibility. No doubt I had been the victim of
+malicious artifice. Inclination, however, conjured up opposite
+sentiments, and my fears began to subside. What motive, I asked, could
+induce a human being to inflict wanton injury? I could not account for
+his delay; but how numberless were the contingencies that might occasion
+it!</p>
+
+<p>I was somewhat comforted by these reflections, but the consolation they
+afforded was short-lived. I was listening with the utmost eagerness to
+catch the sound of a foot, when a noise was indeed heard, but totally
+unlike a step. It was human breath struggling, as it were, for passage.
+On the first effort of attention, it appeared like a groan. Whence it
+arose I could not tell. He that uttered it was near; perhaps in the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the same noise was again heard, and now I perceived that it
+came from the bed. It was accompanied with a motion like some one
+changing his posture. What I at first conceived to be a groan appeared
+now to be nothing more than the expiration of a sleeping man. What
+should I infer from this incident? My companion did not apprize me that
+the apartment was inhabited. Was his imposture a jestful or a wicked
+one?</p>
+
+<p>There was no need to deliberate. There were no means of concealment or
+escape. The person would some time awaken and detect me. The interval
+would only be fraught with agony, and it was wise to shorten it. Should
+I not withdraw the curtain, awake the person, and encounter at once all
+the consequences of my situation? I glided softly to the bed, when the
+thought occurred, May not the sleeper be a female?</p>
+
+<p>I cannot describe the mixture of dread and of shame which glowed in my
+veins. The light in which such a visitant would be probably regarded by
+a woman's fears, the precipitate alarms that might be given, the injury
+which I might unknowingly inflict or undeservedly suffer, threw my
+thoughts into painful confusion. My presence might pollute a spotless
+reputation, or furnish fuel to jealousy.</p>
+
+<p>Still, though it were a female, would not less injury be done by gently
+interrupting her slumber? But the question of sex still remained to be
+decided. For this end I once more approached the bed, and drew aside the
+silk. The sleeper was a babe. This I discovered by the glimmer of a
+street-lamp.</p>
+
+<p>Part of my solicitudes were now removed. It was plain that this chamber
+belonged to a nurse or a mother. She had not yet come to bed. Perhaps it
+was a married pair, and their approach might be momently expected. I
+pictured to myself their entrance and my own detection. I could imagine
+no consequence that was not disastrous and horrible, and from which I
+would not at any price escape. I again examined the door, and found that
+exit by this avenue was impossible. There were other doors in this room.
+Any practicable expedient in this extremity was to be pursued. One of
+these was bolted. I unfastened it and found a considerable space within.
+Should I immure myself in this closet? I saw no benefit that would
+finally result from it. I discovered that there was a bolt on the
+inside, which would somewhat contribute to security. This being drawn,
+no one could enter without breaking the door.</p>
+
+<p>I had scarcely paused, when the long-expected sound of footsteps was
+heard in the entry. Was it my companion, or a stranger? If it were the
+latter, I had not yet mustered courage sufficient to meet him. I cannot
+applaud the magnanimity of my proceeding; but no one can expect intrepid
+or judicious measures from one in my circumstances. I stepped into the
+closet, and closed the door. Some one immediately after unlocked the
+chamber door. He was unattended with a light. The footsteps, as they
+moved along the carpet, could scarcely be heard.</p>
+
+<p>I waited impatiently for some token by which I might be governed. I put
+my ear to the keyhole, and at length heard a voice, but not that of my
+companion, exclaim, somewhat above a whisper, "Smiling cherub! safe and
+sound, I see. Would to God my experiment may succeed, and that thou
+mayest find a mother where I have found a wife!" There he stopped. He
+appeared to kiss the babe, and, presently retiring, locked the door
+after him.</p>
+
+<p>These words were capable of no consistent meaning. They served, at
+least, to assure me that I had been treacherously dealt with. This
+chamber, it was manifest, did not belong to my companion. I put up
+prayers to my Deity that he would deliver me from these toils. What a
+condition was mine! Immersed in palpable darkness! shut up in this
+unknown recess! lurking like a robber!</p>
+
+<p>My meditations were disturbed by new sounds. The door was unlocked,
+more than one person entered the apartment, and light streamed through
+the keyhole. I looked; but the aperture was too small and the figures
+passed too quickly to permit me the sight of them. I bent my ear, and
+this imparted some more authentic information.</p>
+
+<p>The man, as I judged by the voice, was the same who had just departed.
+Rustling of silk denoted his companion to be female. Some words being
+uttered by the man, in too low a key to be overheard, the lady burst
+into a passion of tears. He strove to comfort her by soothing tones and
+tender appellations. "How can it be helped?" said he. "It is time to
+resume your courage. Your duty to yourself and to me requires you to
+subdue this unreasonable grief."</p>
+
+<p>He spoke frequently in this strain, but all he said seemed to have
+little influence in pacifying the lady. At length, however, her sobs
+began to lessen in vehemence and frequency. He exhorted her to seek for
+some repose. Apparently she prepared to comply, and conversation was,
+for a few minutes, intermitted.</p>
+
+<p>I could not but advert to the possibility that some occasion to examine
+the closet, in which I was immured, might occur. I knew not in what
+manner to demean myself if this should take place. I had no option at
+present. By withdrawing myself from view I had lost the privilege of an
+upright deportment. Yet the thought of spending the night in this spot
+was not to be endured.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually I began to view the project of bursting from the closet, and
+trusting to the energy of truth and of an artless tale, with more
+complacency. More than once my hand was placed upon the bolt, but
+withdrawn by a sudden faltering of resolution. When one attempt failed,
+I recurred once more to such reflections as were adapted to renew my
+purpose.</p>
+
+<p>I preconcerted the address which I should use. I resolved to be
+perfectly explicit; to withhold no particular of my adventures from the
+moment of my arrival. My description must necessarily suit some person
+within their knowledge. All I should want was liberty to depart; but, if
+this were not allowed, I might at least hope to escape any ill
+treatment, and to be confronted with my betrayer. In that case I did not
+fear to make him the attester of my innocence.</p>
+
+<p>Influenced by these considerations, I once more touched the lock. At
+that moment the lady shrieked, and exclaimed, "Good God! What is here?"
+An interesting conversation ensued. The object that excited her
+astonishment was the child. I collected from what passed that the
+discovery was wholly unexpected by her. Her husband acted as if equally
+unaware of this event. He joined in all her exclamations of wonder and
+all her wild conjectures. When these were somewhat exhausted, he
+artfully insinuated the propriety of bestowing care upon the little
+foundling. I now found that her grief had been occasioned by the recent
+loss of her own offspring. She was, for some time, averse to her
+husband's proposal, but at length was persuaded to take the babe to her
+bosom and give it nourishment.</p>
+
+<p>This incident had diverted my mind from its favourite project, and
+filled me with speculations on the nature of the scene. One explication
+was obvious, that the husband was the parent of this child, and had used
+this singular expedient to procure for it the maternal protection of his
+wife. It would soon claim from her all the fondness which she
+entertained for her own progeny. No suspicion probably had yet, or would
+hereafter, occur with regard to its true parent. If her character be
+distinguished by the usual attributes of women, the knowledge of this
+truth may convert her love into hatred. I reflected with amazement on
+the slightness of that thread by which human passions are led from their
+true direction. With no less amazement did I remark the complexity of
+incidents by which I had been empowered to communicate to her this
+truth. How baseless are the structures of falsehood, which we build in
+opposition to the system of eternal nature! If I should escape
+undetected from this recess, it will be true that I never saw the face
+of either of these persons, and yet I am acquainted with the most secret
+transaction of their lives.</p>
+
+<p>My own situation was now more critical than before. The lights were
+extinguished, and the parties had sought repose. To issue from the
+closet now would be imminently dangerous. My councils were again at a
+stand and my designs frustrated. Meanwhile the persons did not drop
+their discourse, and I thought myself justified in listening. Many facts
+of the most secret and momentous nature were alluded to. Some allusions
+were unintelligible. To others I was able to affix a plausible meaning,
+and some were palpable enough. Every word that was uttered on that
+occasion is indelibly imprinted on my memory. Perhaps the singularity of
+my circumstances, and my previous ignorance of what was passing in the
+world, contributed to render me a greedy listener. Most that was said I
+shall overlook; but one part of the conversation it will be necessary to
+repeat.</p>
+
+<p>A large company had assembled that evening at their house. They
+criticized the character and manners of several. At last the husband
+said, "What think you of the nabob? Especially when he talked about
+riches? How artfully he encourages the notion of his poverty! Yet not a
+soul believes him. I cannot for my part account for that scheme of his.
+I half suspect that his wealth flows from a bad source, since he is so
+studious of concealing it."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps, after all," said the lady, "you are mistaken as to his
+wealth."</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible," exclaimed the other. "Mark how he lives. Have I not seen
+his bank-account? His deposits, since he has been here, amount to no
+less than half a million."</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven grant that it be so!" said the lady, with a sigh. "I shall think
+with less aversion of your scheme. If poor Tom's fortune be made, and he
+not the worse, or but little the worse on that account, I shall think it
+on the whole best."</p>
+
+<p>"That," replied he, "is what reconciles me to the scheme. To him thirty
+thousand are nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"But will he not suspect you of some hand in it?"</p>
+
+<p>"How can he? Will I not appear to lose as well as himself? Tom is my
+brother, but who can be supposed to answer for a brother's integrity?
+but he cannot suspect either of us. Nothing less than a miracle can
+bring our plot to light. Besides, this man is not what he ought to be.
+He will, some time or other, come out to be a grand impostor. He makes
+money by other arts than bargain and sale. He has found his way, by some
+means, to the Portuguese treasury."</p>
+
+<p>Here the conversation took a new direction, and, after some time, the
+silence of sleep ensued.</p>
+
+<p>Who, thought I, is this nabob who counts his dollars by half-millions,
+and on whom it seems as if some fraud was intended to be practised?
+Amidst their wariness and subtlety, how little are they aware that their
+conversation has been overheard! By means as inscrutable as those which
+conducted me hither, I may hereafter be enabled to profit by this
+detection of a plot. But, meanwhile, what was I to do? How was I to
+effect my escape from this perilous asylum?</p>
+
+<p>After much reflection, it occurred to me that to gain the street without
+exciting their notice was not utterly impossible. Sleep does not
+commonly end of itself, unless at a certain period. What impediments
+were there between me and liberty which I could not remove, and remove
+with so much caution as to escape notice? Motion and sound inevitably go
+together; but every sound is not attended to. The doors of the closet
+and the chamber did not creak upon their hinges. The latter might be
+locked. This I was able to ascertain only by experiment. If it were so,
+yet the key was probably in the lock, and might be used without much
+noise.</p>
+
+<p>I waited till their slow and hoarser inspirations showed them to be both
+asleep. Just then, on changing my position, my head struck against some
+things which depended from the ceiling of the closet. They were
+implements of some kind which rattled against each other in consequence
+of this unlucky blow. I was fearful lest this noise should alarm, as the
+closet was little distant from the bed. The breathing of one instantly
+ceased, and a motion was made as if the head were lifted from the
+pillow. This motion, which was made by the husband, awaked his
+companion, who exclaimed, "What is the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Something, I believe," replied he, "in the closet. If I was not
+dreaming, I heard the pistols strike against each other as if some one
+was taking them down."</p>
+
+<p>This intimation was well suited to alarm the lady. She besought him to
+ascertain the matter. This, to my utter dismay, he at first consented to
+do, but presently observed that probably his ears had misinformed him.
+It was hardly possible that the sound proceeded from them. It might be a
+rat, or his own fancy might have fashioned it. It is not easy to
+describe my trepidations while this conference was holding. I saw how
+easily their slumber was disturbed. The obstacles to my escape were less
+surmountable than I had imagined.</p>
+
+<p>In a little time all was again still. I waited till the usual tokens of
+sleep were distinguishable. I once more resumed my attempt. The bolt was
+withdrawn with all possible slowness; but I could by no means prevent
+all sound. My state was full of inquietude and suspense; my attention
+being painfully divided between the bolt and the condition of the
+sleepers. The difficulty lay in giving that degree of force which was
+barely sufficient. Perhaps not less than fifteen minutes were consumed
+in this operation. At last it was happily effected, and the door was
+cautiously opened.</p>
+
+<p>Emerging as I did from utter darkness, the light admitted into three
+windows produced, to my eyes, a considerable illumination. Objects
+which, on my first entrance into this apartment, were invisible, were
+now clearly discerned. The bed was shrouded by curtains, yet I shrunk
+back into my covert, fearful of being seen. To facilitate my escape, I
+put off my shoes. My mind was so full of objects of more urgent moment,
+that the propriety of taking them along with me never occurred. I left
+them in the closet.</p>
+
+<p>I now glided across the apartment to the door. I was not a little
+discouraged by observing that the key was wanting. My whole hope
+depended on the omission to lock it. In my haste to ascertain this
+point, I made some noise which again roused one of the sleepers. He
+started, and cried, "Who is there?"</p>
+
+<p>I now regarded my case as desperate, and detection as inevitable. My
+apprehensions, rather than my caution, kept me mute. I shrunk to the
+wall, and waited in a kind of agony for the moment that should decide my
+fate.</p>
+
+<p>The lady was again roused. In answer to her inquiries, her husband said
+that some one, he believed, was at the door, but there was no danger of
+their entering, for he had locked it, and the key was in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>My courage was completely annihilated by this piece of intelligence. My
+resources were now at an end. I could only remain in this spot till the
+morning light, which could be at no great distance, should discover me.
+My inexperience disabled me from estimating all the perils of my
+situation. Perhaps I had no more than temporary inconveniences to dread.
+My intention was innocent, and I had been betrayed into my present
+situation, not by my own wickedness, but the wickedness of others.</p>
+
+<p>I was deeply impressed with the ambiguousness which would necessarily
+rest upon my motives, and the scrutiny to which they would be subjected.
+I shuddered at the bare possibility of being ranked with thieves. These
+reflections again gave edge to my ingenuity in search of the means of
+escape. I had carefully attended to the circumstances of their entrance.
+Possibly the act of locking had been unnoticed; but was it not likewise
+possible that this person had been mistaken? The key was gone. Would
+this have been the case if the door were unlocked?</p>
+
+<p>My fears, rather than my hopes, impelled me to make the experiment. I
+drew back the latch, and, to my unspeakable joy, the door opened.</p>
+
+<p>I passed through and explored my way to the staircase. I descended till
+I reached the bottom. I could not recollect with accuracy the position
+of the door leading into the court, but, by carefully feeling along the
+wall with my hands, I at length discovered it. It was fastened by
+several bolts and a lock. The bolts were easily withdrawn, but the key
+was removed. I knew not where it was deposited. I thought I had reached
+the threshold of liberty, but here was an impediment that threatened to
+be insurmountable.</p>
+
+<p>But, if doors could not be passed, windows might be unbarred. I
+remembered that my companion had gone into a door on the left hand, in
+search of a light. I searched for this door. Fortunately it was fastened
+only by a bolt. It admitted me into a room which I carefully explored
+till I reached a window. I will not dwell on my efforts to unbar this
+entrance. Suffice it to say that, after much exertion and frequent
+mistakes, I at length found my way into the yard, and thence passed into
+the court.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Now I was once more on public ground. By so many anxious efforts had I
+disengaged myself from the perilous precincts of private property. As
+many stratagems as are usually made to enter a house had been employed
+by me to get out of it. I was urged to the use of them by my fears; yet,
+so far from carrying off spoil, I had escaped with the loss of an
+essential part of my dress.</p>
+
+<p>I had now leisure to reflect. I seated myself on the ground and reviewed
+the scenes through which I had just passed. I began to think that my
+industry had been misemployed. Suppose I had met the person on his first
+entrance into his chamber? Was the truth so utterly wild as not to have
+found credit? Since the door was locked, and there was no other avenue,
+what other statement but the true one would account for my being found
+there? This deportment had been worthy of an honest purpose. My betrayer
+probably expected that this would be the issue of his jest. My rustic
+simplicity, he might think, would suggest no more ambiguous or elaborate
+expedient. He might likewise have predetermined to interfere if my
+safety had been really endangered.</p>
+
+<p>On the morrow the two doors of the chamber and the window below would be
+found unclosed. They will suspect a design to pillage, but their
+searches will terminate in nothing but in the discovery of a pair of
+clumsy and dusty shoes in the closet. Now that I was safe I could not
+help smiling at the picture which my fancy drew of their anxiety and
+wonder. These thoughts, however, gave place to more momentous
+considerations.</p>
+
+<p>I could not imagine to myself a more perfect example of indigence than I
+now exhibited. There was no being in the city on whose kindness I had
+any claim. Money I had none, and what I then wore comprised my whole
+stock of movables. I had just lost my shoes, and this loss rendered my
+stockings of no use. My dignity remonstrated against a barefoot
+pilgrimage, but to this, necessity now reconciled me. I threw my
+stockings between the bars of a stable-window, belonging, as I thought,
+to the mansion I had just left. These, together with my shoes, I left to
+pay the cost of my entertainment.</p>
+
+<p>I saw that the city was no place for me. The end that I had had in view,
+of procuring some mechanical employment, could only be obtained by the
+use of means, but what means to pursue I knew not. This night's perils
+and deceptions gave me a distaste to a city life, and my ancient
+occupations rose to my view enhanced by a thousand imaginary charms, I
+resolved forthwith to strike into the country.</p>
+
+<p>The day began now to dawn. It was Sunday, and I was desirous of eluding
+observation. I was somewhat recruited by rest, though the languors of
+sleeplessness oppressed me. I meant to throw myself on the first lap of
+verdure I should meet, and indulge in sleep that I so much wanted. I
+knew not the direction of the streets; but followed that which I first
+entered from the court, trusting that, by adhering steadily to one
+course, I should some time reach the fields. This street, as I
+afterwards found, tended to Schuylkill, and soon extricated me from
+houses. I could not cross this river without payment of toll. It was
+requisite to cross it in order to reach that part of the country whither
+I was desirous of going; but how should I effect my passage? I knew of
+no ford, and the smallest expense exceeded my capacity. Ten thousand
+guineas and a farthing were equally remote from nothing, and nothing was
+the portion allotted to me.</p>
+
+<p>While my mind was thus occupied, I turned up one of the streets which
+tend northward. It was, for some length, uninhabited and unpaved.
+Presently I reached a pavement, and a painted fence, along which a row
+of poplars was planted. It bounded a garden into which a knot-hole
+permitted me to pry. The enclosure was a charming green, which I saw
+appended to a house of the loftiest and most stately order. It seemed
+like a recent erection, had all the gloss of novelty, and exhibited, to
+my unpractised eyes, the magnificence of palaces. My father's dwelling
+did not equal the height of one story, and might be easily comprised in
+one-fourth of those buildings which here were designed to accommodate
+the menials. My heart dictated the comparison between my own condition
+and that of the proprietors of this domain. How wide and how impassable
+was the gulf by which we were separated! This fair inheritance had
+fallen to one who, perhaps, would only abuse it to the purposes of
+luxury, while I, with intentions worthy of the friend of mankind, was
+doomed to wield the flail and the mattock.</p>
+
+<p>I had been entirely unaccustomed to this strain of reflection. My books
+had taught me the dignity and safety of the middle path, and my darling
+writer abounded with encomiums on rural life. At a distance from luxury
+and pomp, I viewed them, perhaps, in a just light. A nearer scrutiny
+confirmed my early prepossessions; but, at the distance at which I now
+stood, the lofty edifices, the splendid furniture, and the copious
+accommodations of the rich excited my admiration and my envy.</p>
+
+<p>I relinquished my station, and proceeded, in a heartless mood, along the
+fence. I now came to the mansion itself. The principal door was entered
+by a staircase of marble. I had never seen the stone of Carrara, and
+wildly supposed this to have been dug from Italian quarries. The beauty
+of the poplars, the coolness exhaled from the dew-besprent bricks, the
+commodiousness of the seat which these steps afforded, and the
+uncertainty into which I was plunged respecting my future conduct, all
+combined to make me pause. I sat down on the lower step and began to
+meditate.</p>
+
+<p>By some transition it occurred to me that the supply of my most urgent
+wants might be found in some inhabitant of this house. I needed at
+present a few cents; and what were a few cents to the tenant of a
+mansion like this? I had an invincible aversion to the calling of a
+beggar, but I regarded with still more antipathy the vocation of a
+thief; to this alternative, however, I was now reduced. I must either
+steal or beg; unless, indeed, assistance could be procured under the
+notion of a loan. Would a stranger refuse to lend the pittance that I
+wanted? Surely not, when the urgency of my wants was explained.</p>
+
+<p>I recollected other obstacles. To summon the master of the house from
+his bed, perhaps, for the sake of such an application, would be
+preposterous. I should be in more danger of provoking his anger than
+exciting his benevolence. This request might, surely, with more
+propriety be preferred to a passenger. I should, probably, meet several
+before I should arrive at Schuylkill.</p>
+
+<p>A servant just then appeared at the door, with bucket and brush. This
+obliged me, much sooner than I intended, to decamp. With some reluctance
+I rose and proceeded. This house occupied the corner of the street, and
+I now turned this corner towards the country. A person, at some distance
+before me, was approaching in an opposite direction.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," said I, "may I not make my demand of the first man I meet? This
+person exhibits tokens of ability to lend. There is nothing chilling or
+austere in his demeanour."</p>
+
+<p>The resolution to address this passenger was almost formed; but the
+nearer he advanced my resolves grew less firm. He noticed me not till he
+came within a few paces. He seemed busy in reflection; and, had not my
+figure caught his eye, or had he merely bestowed a passing glance upon
+me, I should not have been sufficiently courageous to have detained him.
+The event, however, was widely different.</p>
+
+<p>He looked at me and started. For an instant, as it were, and till he had
+time to dart at me a second glance, he checked his pace. This behaviour
+decided mine, and he stopped on perceiving tokens of a desire to address
+him. I spoke, but my accents and air sufficiently denoted my
+embarrassments:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to solicit a favour which my situation makes of the highest
+importance to me, and which I hope it will be easy for you, sir, to
+grant. It is not an alms, but a loan, that I seek; a loan that I will
+repay the moment I am able to do it. I am going to the country, but
+have not wherewith to pay my passage over Schuylkill, or to buy a morsel
+of bread. May I venture to request of you, sir, the loan of sixpence? As
+I told you, it is my intention to repay it."</p>
+
+<p>I delivered this address, not without some faltering, but with great
+earnestness. I laid particular stress upon my intention to refund the
+money. He listened with a most inquisitive air. His eye perused me from
+head to foot.</p>
+
+<p>After some pause, he said, in a very emphatic manner, "Why into the
+country? Have you family? Kindred? Friends?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered I, "I have neither. I go in search of the means of
+subsistence. I have passed my life upon a farm, and propose to die in
+the same condition."</p>
+
+<p>"Whence have you come?"</p>
+
+<p>"I came yesterday from the country, with a view to earn my bread in some
+way, but have changed my plan and propose now to return."</p>
+
+<p>"Why have you changed it? In what way are you capable of earning your
+bread?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hardly know," said I. "I can, as yet, manage no tool, that can be
+managed in the city, but the pen. My habits have, in some small degree,
+qualified me for a writer. I would willingly accept employment of that
+kind."</p>
+
+<p>He fixed his eyes upon the earth, and was silent for some minutes. At
+length, recovering himself, he said, "Follow me to my house. Perhaps
+something may be done for you. If not, I will lend you sixpence."</p>
+
+<p>It may be supposed that I eagerly complied with the invitation. My
+companion said no more, his air bespeaking him to be absorbed by his own
+thoughts, till he reached his house, which proved to be that at the door
+of which I had been seated. We entered a parlour together.</p>
+
+<p>Unless you can assume my ignorance and my simplicity, you will be unable
+to conceive the impressions that were made by the size and ornaments of
+this apartment. I shall omit these impressions, which, indeed, no
+description could adequately convey, and dwell on incidents of greater
+moment. He asked me to give him a specimen of my penmanship. I told you
+that I had bestowed very great attention upon this art. Implements were
+brought, and I sat down to the task. By some inexplicable connection a
+line in Shakspeare occurred to me, and I wrote,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+"My poverty, but not my will, consents."
+</p>
+
+<p>The sentiment conveyed in this line powerfully affected him, but in a
+way which I could not then comprehend. I collected from subsequent
+events that the inference was not unfavourable to my understanding or my
+morals. He questioned me as to my history. I related my origin and my
+inducements to desert my father's house. With respect to last night's
+adventures I was silent. I saw no useful purpose that could be answered
+by disclosure, and I half suspected that my companion would refuse
+credit to my tale.</p>
+
+<p>There were frequent intervals of abstraction and reflection between his
+questions. My examination lasted not much less than an hour. At length
+he said, "I want an amanuensis or copyist. On what terms will you live
+with me?"</p>
+
+<p>I answered that I knew not how to estimate the value of my services. I
+knew not whether these services were agreeable or healthful. My life had
+hitherto been active. My constitution was predisposed to diseases of the
+lungs, and the change might be hurtful. I was willing, however, to try
+and to content myself for a month or a year, with so much as would
+furnish me with food, clothing, and lodging.</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis well," said he. "You remain with me as long and no longer than
+both of us please. You shall lodge and eat in this house. I will supply
+you with clothing, and your task will be to write what I dictate. Your
+person, I see, has not shared much of your attention. It is in my power
+to equip you instantly in the manner which becomes a resident in this
+house. Come with me."</p>
+
+<p>He led the way into the court behind and thence into a neat building,
+which contained large wooden vessels and a pump: "There," said he, "you
+may wash yourself; and, when that is done, I will conduct you to your
+chamber and your wardrobe."</p>
+
+<p>This was speedily performed, and he accordingly led the way to the
+chamber. It was an apartment in the third story, finished and furnished
+in the same costly and superb style with the rest of the house. He
+opened closets and drawers which overflowed with clothes and linen of
+all and of the best kinds. "These are yours," said he, "as long as you
+stay with me. Dress yourself as likes you best. Here is every thing your
+nakedness requires. When dressed, you may descend to breakfast." With
+these words he left me.</p>
+
+<p>The clothes were all in the French style, as I afterwards, by comparing
+my garb with that of others, discovered. They were fitted to my shape
+with the nicest precision. I bedecked myself with all my care. I
+remembered the style of dress used by my beloved Clavering. My locks
+were of shining auburn, flowing and smooth like his. Having wrung the
+wet from them, and combed, I tied them carelessly in a black riband.
+Thus equipped, I surveyed myself in a mirror.</p>
+
+<p>You may imagine, if you can, the sensations which this instantaneous
+transformation produced. Appearances are wonderfully influenced by
+dress. Check shirt, buttoned at the neck, an awkward fustian coat, check
+trowsers and bare feet, were now supplanted by linen and muslin, nankeen
+coat striped with green, a white silk waistcoat elegantly
+needle-wrought, cassimere pantaloons, stockings of variegated silk, and
+shoes that in their softness, pliancy, and polished surface vied with
+satin. I could scarcely forbear looking back to see whether the image in
+the glass, so well proportioned, so gallant, and so graceful, did not
+belong to another. I could scarcely recognise any lineaments of my own.
+I walked to the window. "Twenty minutes ago," said I, "I was traversing
+that path a barefoot beggar; now I am thus." Again I surveyed myself.
+"Surely some insanity has fastened on my understanding. My senses are
+the sport of dreams. Some magic that disdains the cumbrousness of
+nature's progress has wrought this change." I was roused from these
+doubts by a summons to breakfast, obsequiously delivered by a black
+servant.</p>
+
+<p>I found Welbeck (for I shall henceforth call him by his true name) at
+the breakfast-table. A superb equipage of silver and china was before
+him. He was startled at my entrance. The change in my dress seemed for a
+moment to have deceived him. His eye was frequently fixed upon me with
+unusual steadfastness. At these times there was inquietude and wonder in
+his features.</p>
+
+<p>I had now an opportunity of examining my host. There was nicety but no
+ornament in his dress. His form was of the middle height, spare, but
+vigorous and graceful. His face was cast, I thought, in a foreign mould.
+His forehead receded beyond the usual degree in visages which I had
+seen. His eyes large and prominent, but imparting no marks of benignity
+and habitual joy. The rest of his face forcibly suggested the idea of a
+convex edge. His whole figure impressed me with emotions of veneration
+and awe. A gravity that almost amounted to sadness invariably attended
+him when we were alone together.</p>
+
+<p>He whispered the servant that waited, who immediately retired. He then
+said, turning to me, "A lady will enter presently, whom you are to treat
+with the respect due to my daughter. You must not notice any emotion she
+may betray at the sight of you, nor expect her to converse with you; for
+she does not understand your language." He had scarcely spoken when she
+entered. I was seized with certain misgivings and flutterings which a
+clownish education may account for. I so far conquered my timidity,
+however, as to snatch a look at her. I was not born to execute her
+portrait. Perhaps the turban that wreathed her head, the brilliant
+texture and inimitable folds of her drapery, and nymphlike port, more
+than the essential attributes of her person, gave splendour to the
+celestial vision. Perhaps it was her snowy hues, and the cast rather
+than the position of her features, that were so prolific of enchantment;
+or perhaps the wonder originated only in my own ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>She did not immediately notice me. When she did she almost shrieked with
+surprise. She held up her hands, and, gazing upon me, uttered various
+exclamations which I could not understand. I could only remark that her
+accents were thrillingly musical. Her perturbations refused to be
+stilled. It was with difficulty that she withdrew her regards from me.
+Much conversation passed between her and Welbeck, but I could comprehend
+no part of it. I was at liberty to animadvert on the visible part of
+their intercourse. I diverted some part of my attention from my own
+embarrassments, and fixed it on their looks.</p>
+
+<p>In this art, as in most others, I was an unpractised simpleton. In the
+countenance of Welbeck, there was somewhat else than sympathy with the
+astonishment and distress of the lady; but I could not interpret these
+additional tokens. When her attention was engrossed by Welbeck, her eyes
+were frequently vagrant or downcast; her cheeks contracted a deeper hue;
+and her breathing was almost prolonged into a sigh. These were marks on
+which I made no comments at the time. My own situation was calculated to
+breed confusion in my thoughts and awkwardness in my gestures. Breakfast
+being finished, the lady, apparently at the request of Welbeck, sat down
+to a piano-forte.</p>
+
+<p>Here again I must be silent. I was not wholly destitute of musical
+practice and musical taste. I had that degree of knowledge which enabled
+me to estimate the transcendent skill of this performer. As if the
+pathos of her touch were insufficient, I found after some time that the
+lawless jarrings of the keys were chastened by her own more liquid
+notes. She played without a book, and, though her bass might be
+preconcerted, it was plain that her right-hand notes were momentary and
+spontaneous inspirations. Meanwhile Welbeck stood, leaning his arms on
+the back of a chair near her, with his eyes fixed on her face. His
+features were fraught with a meaning which I was eager to interpret, but
+unable.</p>
+
+<p>I have read of transitions effected by magic; I have read of palaces and
+deserts which were subject to the dominion of spells; poets may sport
+with their power, but I am certain that no transition was ever conceived
+more marvellous and more beyond the reach of foresight than that which I
+had just experienced. Heaths vexed by a midnight storm may be changed
+into a hall of choral nymphs and regal banqueting; forest glades may
+give sudden place to colonnades and carnivals; but he whose senses are
+deluded finds himself still on his natal earth. These miracles are
+contemptible when compared with that which placed me under this roof and
+gave me to partake in this audience. I know that my emotions are in
+danger of being regarded as ludicrous by those who cannot figure to
+themselves the consequences of a limited and rustic education.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In a short time the lady retired. I naturally expected that some
+comments would be made on her behaviour, and that the cause of her
+surprise and distress on seeing me would be explained; but Welbeck said
+nothing on that subject. When she had gone, he went to the window and
+stood for some time occupied, as it seemed, with his own thoughts. Then
+he turned to me, and, calling me by my name, desired me to accompany him
+up-stairs. There was neither cheerfulness nor mildness in his address,
+but neither was there any thing domineering or arrogant.</p>
+
+<p>We entered an apartment on the same floor with my chamber, but separated
+from it by a spacious entry. It was supplied with bureaus, cabinets, and
+bookcases. "This," said he, "is your room and mine; but we must enter it
+and leave it together. I mean to act not as your master but your friend.
+My maimed hand" (so saying, he showed me his right hand, the forefinger
+of which was wanting) "will not allow me to write accurately or
+copiously. For this reason I have required your aid, in a work of some
+moment. Much haste will not be requisite, and, as to the hours and
+duration of employment, these will be seasonable and short.</p>
+
+<p>"Your present situation is new to you, and we will therefore defer
+entering on our business. Meanwhile you may amuse yourself in what
+manner you please. Consider this house as your home and make yourself
+familiar with it. Stay within or go out, be busy or be idle, as your
+fancy shall prompt: only you will conform to our domestic system as to
+eating and sleep; the servants will inform you of this. Next week we
+will enter on the task for which I designed you. You may now withdraw."</p>
+
+<p>I obeyed this mandate with some awkwardness and hesitation. I went into
+my own chamber not displeased with an opportunity of loneliness. I threw
+myself on a chair and resigned myself to those thoughts which would
+naturally arise in this situation. I speculated on the character and
+views of Welbeck. I saw that he was embosomed in tranquillity and
+grandeur. Riches, therefore, were his; but in what did his opulence
+consist, and whence did it arise? What were the limits by which it was
+confined, and what its degree of permanence? I was unhabituated to ideas
+of floating or transferable wealth. The rent of houses and lands was the
+only species of property which was, as yet, perfectly intelligible. My
+previous ideas led me to regard Welbeck as the proprietor of this
+dwelling and of numerous houses and farms. By the same cause I was fain
+to suppose him enriched by inheritance, and that his life had been
+uniform.</p>
+
+<p>I next adverted to his social condition. This mansion appeared to have
+but two inhabitants besides servants. Who was the nymph who had hovered
+for a moment in my sight? Had he not called her his daughter? The
+apparent difference in their ages would justify this relation; but her
+guise, her features, and her accents, were foreign. Her language I
+suspected strongly to be that of Italy. How should he be the father of
+an Italian? But were there not some foreign lineaments in his
+countenance?</p>
+
+<p>This idea seemed to open a new world to my view. I had gained, from my
+books, confused ideas of European governments and manners. I knew that
+the present was a period of revolution and hostility. Might not these be
+illustrious fugitives from Provence or the Milanese? Their portable
+wealth, which may reasonably be supposed to be great, they have
+transported hither. Thus may be explained the sorrow that veils their
+countenance. The loss of estates and honours; the untimely death of
+kindred, and perhaps of his wife, may furnish eternal food for regrets.
+Welbeck's utterance, though rapid and distinct, partook, as I conceived,
+in some very slight degree of a foreign idiom.</p>
+
+<p>Such was the dream that haunted my undisciplined and unenlightened
+imagination. The more I revolved it, the more plausible it seemed. On
+due supposition every appearance that I had witnessed was easily
+solved,&mdash;unless it were their treatment of me. This, at first, was a
+source of hopeless perplexity. Gradually, however, a clue seemed to be
+afforded. Welbeck had betrayed astonishment on my first appearance. The
+lady's wonder was mingled with distress. Perhaps they discovered a
+remarkable resemblance between me and one who stood in the relation of
+son to Welbeck, and of brother to the lady. This youth might have
+perished on the scaffold or in war. These, no doubt, were his clothes.
+This chamber might have been reserved for him, but his death left it to
+be appropriated to another.</p>
+
+<p>I had hitherto been unable to guess at the reason why all this kindness
+had been lavished on me. Will not this conjecture sufficiently account
+for it? No wonder that this resemblance was enhanced by assuming his
+dress.</p>
+
+<p>Taking all circumstances into view, these ideas were not, perhaps,
+destitute of probability. Appearances naturally suggested them to me.
+They were, also, powerfully enforced by inclination. They threw me into
+transports of wonder and hope. When I dwelt upon the incidents of my
+past life, and traced the chain of events, from the death of my mother
+to the present moment, I almost acquiesced in the notion that some
+beneficent and ruling genius had prepared my path for me. Events which,
+when foreseen, would most ardently have been deprecated, and when they
+happened were accounted in the highest degree luckless, were now seen to
+be propitious. Hence I inferred the infatuation of despair, and the
+folly of precipitate conclusions.</p>
+
+<p>But what was the fate reserved for me? Perhaps Welbeck would adopt me
+for his own son. Wealth has ever been capriciously distributed. The mere
+physical relation of birth is all that entitles us to manors and
+thrones. Identity itself frequently depends upon a casual likeness or an
+old nurse's imposture. Nations have risen in arms, as in the case of the
+Stuarts, in the cause of one the genuineness of whose birth has been
+denied and can never be proved. But if the cause be trivial and
+fallacious, the effects are momentous and solid. It ascertains our
+portion of felicity and usefulness, and fixes our lot among peasants or
+princes.</p>
+
+<p>Something may depend upon my own deportment. Will it not behoove me to
+cultivate all my virtues and eradicate all my defects? I see that the
+abilities of this man are venerable. Perhaps he will not lightly or
+hastily decide in my favour. He will be governed by the proofs that I
+shall give of discernment and integrity. I had always been exempt from
+temptation, and was therefore undepraved; but this view of things had a
+wonderful tendency to invigorate my virtuous resolutions. All within me
+was exhilaration and joy.</p>
+
+<p>There was but one thing wanting to exalt me to a dizzy height and give
+me place among the stars of heaven. My resemblance to her brother had
+forcibly affected this lady; but I was not her brother. I was raised to
+a level with her and made a tenant of the same mansion. Some intercourse
+would take place between us. Time would lay level impediments and
+establish familiarity, and this intercourse might foster love and
+terminate in&mdash;<i>marriage</i>!</p>
+
+<p>These images were of a nature too glowing and expansive to allow me to
+be longer inactive. I sallied forth into the open air. This tumult of
+delicious thoughts in some time subsided, and gave way to images
+relative to my present situation. My curiosity was awake. As yet I had
+seen little of the city, and this opportunity for observation was not to
+be neglected. I therefore coursed through several streets, attentively
+examining the objects that successively presented themselves.</p>
+
+<p>At length, it occurred to me to search out the house in which I had
+lately been immured. I was not without hopes that at some future period
+I should be able to comprehend the allusions and brighten the
+obscurities that hung about the dialogue of last night.</p>
+
+<p>The house was easily discovered. I reconnoitred the court and gate
+through which I had passed. The mansion was of the first order in
+magnitude and decoration. This was not the bound of my present
+discovery, for I was gifted with that confidence which would make me set
+on foot inquiries in the neighbourhood. I looked around for a suitable
+medium of intelligence. The opposite and adjoining houses were small,
+and apparently occupied by persons of an indigent class. At one of these
+was a sign denoting it to be the residence of a tailor. Seated on a
+bench at the door was a young man, with coarse uncombed locks, breeches
+knee-unbuttoned, stockings ungartered, shoes slipshod and unbuckled, and
+a face unwashed, gazing stupidly from hollow eyes. His aspect was
+embellished with good nature, though indicative of ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>This was the only person in sight. He might be able to say something
+concerning his opulent neighbour. To him, therefore, I resolved to
+apply. I went up to him, and, pointing to the house in question, asked
+him who lived there.</p>
+
+<p>He answered, "Mr. Matthews."</p>
+
+<p>"What is his profession,&mdash;his way of life?"</p>
+
+<p>"A gentleman. He does nothing but walk about."</p>
+
+<p>"How long has he been married?"</p>
+
+<p>"Married! He is not married as I know on. He never has been married. He
+is a bachelor."</p>
+
+<p>This intelligence was unexpected. It made me pause to reflect whether I
+had not mistaken the house. This, however, seemed impossible. I renewed
+my questions.</p>
+
+<p>"A bachelor, say you? Are you not mistaken?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. It would be an odd thing if he was married. An old fellow, with one
+foot in the grave&mdash;Comical enough for him to <i>git</i> a <i>vife</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"An old man? Does he live alone? What is his family?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, he does not live alone. He has a niece that lives with him. She is
+married, and her husband lives there too."</p>
+
+<p>"What is his name?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know. I never heard it as I know on."</p>
+
+<p>"What is his trade?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's a merchant; he keeps a store somewhere or other; but I don't know
+where."</p>
+
+<p>"How long has he been married?"</p>
+
+<p>"About two years. They lost a child lately. The young woman was in a
+huge taking about it. They say she was quite crazy some days for the
+death of the child; and she is not quite out of <i>the dumps</i> yet.
+To-be-sure, the child was a sweet little thing; but they need not make
+such a rout about it. I'll war'n' they'll have enough of them before
+they die."</p>
+
+<p>"What is the character of the young man? Where was he born and educated?
+Has he parents or brothers?"</p>
+
+<p>My companion was incapable of answering these questions, and I left him
+with little essential addition to the knowledge I already possessed.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>After viewing various parts of the city, intruding into churches, and
+diving into alleys, I returned. The rest of the day I spent chiefly in
+my chamber, reflecting on my new condition; surveying my apartment, its
+presses and closets; and conjecturing the causes of appearances.</p>
+
+<p>At dinner and supper I was alone. Venturing to inquire of the servant
+where his master and mistress were, I was answered that they were
+engaged. I did not question him as to the nature of their engagement,
+though it was a fertile source of curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning, at breakfast, I again met Welbeck and the lady. The
+incidents were nearly those of the preceding morning, if it were not
+that the lady exhibited tokens of somewhat greater uneasiness. When she
+left us, Welbeck sank into apparent meditation. I was at a loss whether
+to retire or remain where I was. At last, however, I was on the point of
+leaving the room, when he broke silence and began a conversation with
+me.</p>
+
+<p>He put questions to me, the obvious scope of which was to know my
+sentiments on moral topics. I had no motives to conceal my opinions, and
+therefore delivered them with frankness. At length he introduced
+allusions to my own history, and made more particular inquiries on that
+head. Here I was not equally frank; yet I did not feign any thing, but
+merely dealt in generals. I had acquired notions of propriety on this
+head, perhaps somewhat fastidious. Minute details, respecting our own
+concerns, are apt to weary all but the narrator himself. I said thus
+much, and the truth of my remark was eagerly assented to.</p>
+
+<p>With some marks of hesitation and after various preliminaries, my
+companion hinted that my own interest, as well as his, enjoined upon me
+silence to all but himself, on the subject of my birth and early
+adventures. It was not likely that, while in his service, my circle of
+acquaintance would be large or my intercourse with the world frequent;
+but in my communication with others he requested me to speak rather of
+others than of myself. This request, he said, might appear singular to
+me, but he had his reasons for making it, which it was not necessary, at
+present, to disclose, though, when I should know them, I should readily
+acknowledge their validity.</p>
+
+<p>I scarcely knew what answer to make. I was willing to oblige him. I was
+far from expecting that any exigence would occur, making disclosure my
+duty. The employment was productive of pain more than of pleasure, and
+the curiosity that would uselessly seek a knowledge of my past life was
+no less impertinent than the loquacity that would uselessly communicate
+that knowledge. I readily promised, therefore, to adhere to his advice.</p>
+
+<p>This assurance afforded him evident satisfaction; yet it did not seem to
+amount to quite as much as he wished. He repeated, in stronger terms,
+the necessity there was for caution. He was far from suspecting me to
+possess an impertinent and talkative disposition, or that, in my
+eagerness to expatiate on my own concerns, I should overstep the limits
+of politeness. But this was not enough. I was to govern myself by a
+persuasion that the interests of my friend and myself would be
+materially affected by my conduct.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps I ought to have allowed these insinuations to breed suspicion in
+my mind; but, conscious as I was of the benefits which I had received
+from this man; prone, from my inexperience, to rely upon professions and
+confide in appearances; and unaware that I could be placed in any
+condition in which mere silence respecting myself could be injurious or
+criminal, I made no scruple to promise compliance with his wishes. Nay,
+I went further than this; I desired to be accurately informed as to what
+it was proper to conceal. He answered that my silence might extend to
+every thing anterior to my arrival in the city and my being incorporated
+with his family. Here our conversation ended, and I retired to ruminate
+on what had passed.</p>
+
+<p>I derived little satisfaction from my reflections. I began now to
+perceive inconveniences that might arise from this precipitate promise.
+Whatever should happen in consequence of my being immured in the
+chamber, and of the loss of my clothes and of the portrait of my friend,
+I had bound myself to silence. These inquietudes, however, were
+transient. I trusted that these events would operate auspiciously; but
+my curiosity was now awakened as to the motives which <i>Welbeck</i> could
+have for exacting from me this concealment. To act under the guidance of
+another, and to wander in the dark, ignorant whither my path tended and
+what effects might flow from my agency, was a new and irksome situation.</p>
+
+<p>From these thoughts I was recalled by a message from Welbeck. He gave me
+a folded paper, which he requested me to carry to No.&mdash;South Fourth
+Street. "Inquire," said he, "for Mrs. Wentworth, in order merely to
+ascertain the house, for you need not ask to see her; merely give the
+letter to the servant and retire. Excuse me for imposing this service
+upon you. It is of too great moment to be trusted to a common messenger;
+I usually perform it myself, but am at present otherwise engaged."</p>
+
+<p>I took the letter and set out to deliver it. This was a trifling
+circumstance, yet my mind was full of reflections on the consequences
+that might flow from it. I remembered the directions that were given,
+but construed them in a manner different, perhaps, from Welbeck's
+expectations or wishes. He had charged me to leave the billet with the
+servant who happened to answer my summons; but had he not said that the
+message was important, insomuch that it could not be intrusted to common
+hands? He had permitted, rather than enjoined, me to dispense with
+seeing the lady; and this permission I conceived to be dictated merely
+by regard to my convenience. It was incumbent on me, therefore, to take
+some pains to deliver the script into her own hands.</p>
+
+<p>I arrived at the house and knocked. A female servant appeared. "Her
+mistress was up-stairs; she would tell her if I wished to see her," and
+meanwhile invited me to enter the parlour; I did so; and the girl
+retired to inform her mistress that one waited for her. I ought to
+mention that my departure from the directions which I had received was,
+in some degree, owing to an inquisitive temper; I was eager after
+knowledge, and was disposed to profit by every opportunity to survey the
+interior of dwellings and converse with their inhabitants.</p>
+
+<p>I scanned the walls, the furniture, the pictures. Over the fireplace was
+a portrait in oil of a female. She was elderly and matron-like. Perhaps
+she was the mistress of this habitation, and the person to whom I should
+immediately be introduced. Was it a casual suggestion, or was there an
+actual resemblance between the strokes of the pencil which executed this
+portrait and that of Clavering? However that be, the sight of this
+picture revived the memory of my friend and called up a fugitive
+suspicion that this was the production of his skill.</p>
+
+<p>I was busily revolving this idea when the lady herself entered. It was
+the same whose portrait I had been examining. She fixed scrutinizing and
+powerful eyes upon me. She looked at the superscription of the letter
+which I presented, and immediately resumed her examination of me. I was
+somewhat abashed by the closeness of her observation, and gave tokens of
+this state of mind which did not pass unobserved. They seemed instantly
+to remind her that she behaved with too little regard to civility. She
+recovered herself and began to peruse the letter. Having done this, her
+attention was once more fixed upon me. She was evidently desirous of
+entering into some conversation, but seemed at a loss in what manner to
+begin. This situation was new to me and was productive of no small
+embarrassment. I was preparing to take my leave when she spoke, though
+not without considerable hesitation:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"This letter is from Mr. Welbeck&mdash;you are his friend&mdash;I
+presume&mdash;perhaps&mdash;a relation?"</p>
+
+<p>I was conscious that I had no claim to either of these titles, and that
+I was no more than his servant. My pride would not allow me to
+acknowledge this, and I merely said, "I live with him at present,
+madam."</p>
+
+<p>I imagined that this answer did not perfectly satisfy her; yet she
+received it with a certain air of acquiescence. She was silent for a few
+minutes, and then, rising, said, "Excuse me, sir, for a few minutes. I
+will write a few words to Mr. Welbeck." So saying, she withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>I returned to the contemplation of the picture. From this, however, my
+attention was quickly diverted by a paper that lay on the mantel. A
+single glance was sufficient to put my blood into motion. I started and
+laid my hand upon the well-known packet. It was that which enclosed the
+portrait of Clavering!</p>
+
+<p>I unfolded and examined it with eagerness. By what miracle came it
+hither? It was found, together with my bundle, two nights before. I had
+despaired of ever seeing it again, and yet here was the same portrait
+enclosed in the selfsame paper! I have forborne to dwell upon the
+regret, amounting to grief, with which I was affected in consequence of
+the loss of this precious relic. My joy on thus speedily and
+unexpectedly regaining it is not easily described.</p>
+
+<p>For a time I did not reflect that to hold it thus in my hand was not
+sufficient to entitle me to repossession. I must acquaint this lady with
+the history of this picture, and convince her of my ownership. But how
+was this to be done? Was she connected in any way, by friendship or by
+consanguinity, with that unfortunate youth? If she were, some
+information as to his destiny would be anxiously sought. I did not, just
+then, perceive any impropriety in imparting it. If it came into her
+hands by accident, still, it will be necessary to relate the mode in
+which it was lost in order to prove my title to it.</p>
+
+<p>I now heard her descending footsteps, and hastily replaced the picture
+on the mantel. She entered, and, presenting me a letter, desired me to
+deliver it to Mr. Welbeck. I had no pretext for deferring my departure,
+but was unwilling to go without obtaining possession of the portrait. An
+interval of silence and irresolution succeeded. I cast significant
+glances at the spot where it lay, and at length mustered up my strength
+of mind, and, pointing to the paper,&mdash;"Madam," said I, "<i>there</i> is
+something which I recognise to be mine: I know not how it came into your
+possession, but so lately as the day before yesterday it was in mine. I
+lost it by a strange accident, and, as I deem it of inestimable value, I
+hope you will have no objection to restore it."</p>
+
+<p>During this speech the lady's countenance exhibited marks of the utmost
+perturbation. "Your picture!" she exclaimed; "you lost it! How? Where?
+Did you know that person? What has become of him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I knew him well," said I. "That picture was executed by himself. He
+gave it to me with his own hands; and, till the moment I unfortunately
+lost it, it was my dear and perpetual companion."</p>
+
+<p>"Good heaven!" she exclaimed, with increasing vehemence; "where did you
+meet with him? What has become of him? Is he dead, or alive?"</p>
+
+<p>These appearances sufficiently showed me that Clavering and this lady
+were connected by some ties of tenderness. I answered that he was dead;
+that my mother and myself were his attendants and nurses, and that this
+portrait was his legacy to me.</p>
+
+<p>This intelligence melted her into tears, and it was some time before she
+recovered strength enough to resume the conversation. She then inquired,
+"When and where was it that he died? How did you lose this portrait? It
+was found wrapped in some coarse clothes, lying in a stall in the
+market-house, on Saturday evening. Two negro women, servants of one of
+my friends, strolling through the market, found it and brought it to
+their mistress, who, recognising the portrait, sent it to me. To whom
+did that bundle belong? Was it yours?"</p>
+
+<p>These questions reminded me of the painful predicament in which I now
+stood. I had promised Welbeck to conceal from every one my former
+condition; but to explain in what manner this bundle was lost, and how
+my intercourse with Clavering had taken place, was to violate this
+promise. It was possible, perhaps, to escape the confession of the truth
+by equivocation. Falsehoods were easily invented, and might lead her far
+away from my true condition; but I was wholly unused to equivocation.
+Never yet had a lie polluted my lips. I was not weak enough to be
+ashamed of my origin. This lady had an interest in the fate of
+Clavering, and might justly claim all the information which I was able
+to impart. Yet to forget the compact which I had so lately made, and an
+adherence to which might possibly be in the highest degree beneficial to
+me and to Welbeck; I was willing to adhere to it, provided falsehood
+could be avoided.</p>
+
+<p>These thoughts rendered me silent. The pain of my embarrassment amounted
+almost to agony. I felt the keenest regret at my own precipitation in
+claiming the picture. Its value to me was altogether imaginary. The
+affection which this lady had borne the original, whatever was the
+source of that affection, would prompt her to cherish the copy, and,
+however precious it was in my eyes, I should cheerfully resign it to
+her.</p>
+
+<p>In the confusion of my thoughts an expedient suggested itself
+sufficiently inartificial and bold. "It is true, madam, what I have
+said. I saw him breathe his last. This is his only legacy. If you wish
+it I willingly resign it; but this is all that I can now disclose. I am
+placed in circumstances which render it improper to say more."</p>
+
+<p>These words were uttered not very distinctly, and the lady's vehemence
+hindered her from noticing them. She again repeated her interrogations,
+to which I returned the same answer.</p>
+
+<p>At first she expressed the utmost surprise at my conduct. From this she
+descended to some degree of asperity. She made rapid allusions to the
+history of Clavering. He was the son of the gentleman who owned the
+house in which Welbeck resided. He was the object of immeasurable
+fondness and indulgence. He had sought permission to travel, and, this
+being refused by the absurd timidity of his parents, he had twice been
+frustrated in attempting to embark for Europe clandestinely. They
+ascribed his disappearance to a third and successful attempt of this
+kind, and had exercised anxious and unwearied diligence in endeavouring
+to trace his footsteps. All their efforts had failed. One motive for
+their returning to Europe was the hope of discovering some traces of
+him, as they entertained no doubt of his having crossed the ocean. The
+vehemence of Mrs. Wentworth's curiosity as to those particulars of his
+life and death may be easily conceived. My refusal only heightened this
+passion.</p>
+
+<p>Finding me refractory to all her efforts, she at length dismissed me in
+anger.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>This extraordinary interview was now past. Pleasure as well as pain
+attended my reflections on it. I adhered to the promise I had
+improvidently given to Welbeck, but had excited displeasure, and perhaps
+suspicion, in the lady. She would find it hard to account for my
+silence. She would probably impute it to perverseness, or imagine it to
+flow from some incident connected with the death of Clavering,
+calculated to give a new edge to her curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>It was plain that some connection subsisted between her and Welbeck.
+Would she drop the subject at the point which it had now attained? Would
+she cease to exert herself to extract from me the desired information,
+or would she not rather make Welbeck a party in the cause, and prejudice
+my new friend against me? This was an evil proper, by all lawful means,
+to avoid. I knew of no other expedient than to confess to him the truth
+with regard to Clavering, and explain to him the dilemma in which my
+adherence to my promise had involved me.</p>
+
+<p>I found him on my return home, and delivered him the letter with which I
+was charged. At the sight of it, surprise, mingled with some uneasiness,
+appeared in his looks. "What!" said he, in a tone of disappointment,
+"you then saw the lady?"</p>
+
+<p>I now remembered his directions to leave my message at the door, and
+apologized for my neglecting them by telling my reasons. His chagrin
+vanished, but not without an apparent effort, and he said that all was
+well; the affair was of no moment.</p>
+
+<p>After a pause of preparation, I entreated his attention to something
+which I had to relate. I then detailed the history of Clavering and of
+my late embarrassments. As I went on, his countenance betokened
+increasing solicitude. His emotion was particularly strong when I came
+to the interrogatories of Mrs. Wentworth in relation to Clavering; but
+this emotion gave way to profound surprise when I related the manner in
+which I had eluded her inquiries. I concluded with observing that, when
+I promised forbearance on the subject of my own adventures, I had not
+foreseen any exigence which would make an adherence to my promise
+difficult or inconvenient; that, if his interest was promoted by my
+silence, I was still willing to maintain it, and requested his
+directions how to conduct myself on this occasion.</p>
+
+<p>He appeared to ponder deeply and with much perplexity on what I had
+said. When he spoke there was hesitation in his manner and circuity in
+his expressions, that proved him to have something in his thoughts which
+he knew not how to communicate. He frequently paused; but my answers and
+remarks, occasionally given, appeared to deter him from the revelation
+of his purpose. Our discourse ended, for the present, by his desiring me
+to persist in my present plan; I should suffer no inconveniences from
+it, since it would be my own fault if an interview again took place
+between the lady and me; meanwhile he should see her and effectually
+silence her inquiries.</p>
+
+<p>I ruminated not superficially or briefly on this dialogue. By what means
+would he silence her inquiries? He surely meant not to mislead her by
+fallacious representations. Some inquietude now crept into my thoughts.
+I began to form conjectures as to the nature of the scheme to which my
+suppression of the truth was to be thus made subservient. It seemed as
+if I were walking in the dark and might rush into snares or drop into
+pits before I was aware of my danger. Each moment accumulated my doubts,
+and I cherished a secret foreboding that the event would prove my new
+situation to be far less fortunate than I had, at first, fondly
+believed. The question now occurred, with painful repetition, who and
+what was Welbeck? What was his relation to this foreign lady? What was
+the service for which I was to be employed?</p>
+
+<p>I could not be contented without a solution of these mysteries. Why
+should I not lay my soul open before my new friend? Considering my
+situation, would he regard my fears and my surmises as criminal? I felt
+that they originated in laudable habits and views. My peace of mind
+depended on the favourable verdict which conscience should pass on my
+proceedings. I saw the emptiness of fame and luxury, when put in the
+balance against the recompense of virtue. Never would I purchase the
+blandishments of adulation and the glare of opulence at the price of my
+honesty.</p>
+
+<p>Amidst these reflections the dinner-hour arrived. The lady and Welbeck
+were present. A new train of sentiments now occupied my mind. I regarded
+them both with inquisitive eyes. I cannot well account for the
+revolution which had taken place in my mind. Perhaps it was a proof of
+the capriciousness of my temper, or it was merely the fruit of my
+profound ignorance of life and manners. Whencesoever it arose, certain
+it is that I contemplated the scene before me with altered eyes. Its
+order and pomp was no longer the parent of tranquillity and awe. My wild
+reveries of inheriting this splendour and appropriating the affections
+of this nymph, I now regarded as lunatic hope and childish folly.
+Education and nature had qualified me for a different scene. This might
+be the mask of misery and the structure of vice.</p>
+
+<p>My companions as well as myself were silent during the meal. The lady
+retired as soon as it was finished. My inexplicable melancholy
+increased. It did not pass unnoticed by Welbeck, who inquired, with an
+air of kindness, into the cause of my visible dejection. I am almost
+ashamed to relate to what extremes my folly transported me. Instead of
+answering him, I was weak enough to shed tears.</p>
+
+<p>This excited afresh his surprise and his sympathy. He renewed his
+inquiries; my heart was full, but how to disburden it I knew not. At
+length, with some difficulty, I expressed my wishes to leave his house
+and return into the country.</p>
+
+<p>What, he asked, had occurred to suggest this new plan? What motive could
+incite me to bury myself in rustic obscurity? How did I purpose to
+dispose of myself? Had some new friend sprung up more able or more
+willing to benefit me than he had been?</p>
+
+<p>"No," I answered, "I have no relation who would own me, or friend who
+would protect. If I went into the country it would be to the toilsome
+occupations of a day-labourer; but even that was better than my present
+situation."</p>
+
+<p>This opinion, he observed, must be newly formed. What was there irksome
+or offensive in my present mode of life?</p>
+
+<p>That this man condescended to expostulate with me; to dissuade me from
+my new plan; and to enumerate the benefits which he was willing to
+confer, penetrated my heart with gratitude. I could not but acknowledge
+that leisure and literature, copious and elegant accommodation, were
+valuable for their own sake; that all the delights of sensation and
+refinements of intelligence were comprised within my present sphere, and
+would be nearly wanting in that to which I was going. I felt temporary
+compunction for my folly, and determined to adopt a different
+deportment. I could not prevail upon myself to unfold the true cause of
+my dejection, and permitted him therefore to ascribe it to a kind of
+homesickness; to inexperience; and to that ignorance which, on being
+ushered into a new scene, is oppressed with a sensation of forlornness.
+He remarked that these chimeras would vanish before the influence of
+time, and company, and occupation. On the next week he would furnish me
+with employment; meanwhile he would introduce me into company, where
+intelligence and vivacity would combine to dispel my glooms.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as we separated, my disquietudes returned. I contended with them
+in vain, and finally resolved to abandon my present situation. When and
+how this purpose was to be effected I knew not. That was to be the theme
+of future deliberation.</p>
+
+<p>Evening having arrived, Welbeck proposed to me to accompany me on a
+visit to one of his friends. I cheerfully accepted the invitation, and
+went with him to your friend Mr. Wortley's. A numerous party was
+assembled, chiefly of the female sex. I was introduced by Welbeck by
+the title of <i>a young friend of his</i>. Notwithstanding my embarrassment,
+I did not fail to attend to what passed on this occasion. I remarked
+that the utmost deference was paid to my companion, on whom his entrance
+into this company appeared to operate like magic. His eyes sparkled; his
+features expanded into a benign serenity; and his wonted reserve gave
+place to a torrent-like and overflowing elocution.</p>
+
+<p>I marked this change in his deportment with the utmost astonishment. So
+great was it, that I could hardly persuade myself that it was the same
+person. A mind thus susceptible of new impressions must be, I conceived,
+of a wonderful texture. Nothing was further from my expectations than
+that this vivacity was mere dissimulation and would take its leave of
+him when he left the company; yet this I found to be the case. The door
+was no sooner closed after him than his accustomed solemnity returned.
+He spake little, and that little was delivered with emphatical and
+monosyllabic brevity.</p>
+
+<p>We returned home at a late hour, and I immediately retired to my
+chamber, not so much from the desire of repose as in order to enjoy and
+pursue my own reflections without interruption.</p>
+
+<p>The condition of my mind was considerably remote from happiness. I was
+placed in a scene that furnished fuel to my curiosity. This passion is a
+source of pleasure, provided its gratification be practicable. I had no
+reason, in my present circumstances, to despair of knowledge; yet
+suspicion and anxiety beset me. I thought upon the delay and toil which
+the removal of my ignorance would cost, and reaped only pain and fear
+from the reflection.</p>
+
+<p>The air was remarkably sultry. Lifted sashes and lofty ceilings were
+insufficient to attemper it. The perturbation of my thoughts affected my
+body, and the heat which oppressed me was aggravated, by my
+restlessness, almost into fever. Some hours were thus painfully past,
+when I recollected that the bath, erected in the court below, contained
+a sufficient antidote to the scorching influence of the atmosphere.</p>
+
+<p>I rose, and descended the stairs softly, that I might not alarm Welbeck
+and the lady, who occupied the two rooms on the second floor. I
+proceeded to the bath, and, filling the reservoir with water, speedily
+dissipated the heat that incommoded me. Of all species of sensual
+gratification, that was the most delicious; and I continued for a long
+time laving my limbs and moistening my hair. In the midst of this
+amusement, I noticed the approach of day, and immediately saw the
+propriety of returning to my chamber. I returned with the same caution
+which I had used in descending; my feet were bare, so that it was easy
+to proceed unattended by the smallest signal of my progress.</p>
+
+<p>I had reached the carpeted staircase, and was slowly ascending, when I
+heard, within the chamber that was occupied by the lady, a noise, as of
+some one moving. Though not conscious of having acted improperly, yet I
+felt reluctance to be seen. There was no reason to suppose that this
+sound was connected with the detection of me in this situation; yet I
+acted as if this reason existed, and made haste to pass the door and
+gain the second flight of steps.</p>
+
+<p>I was unable to accomplish my design, when the chamber door slowly
+opened, and Welbeck, with a light in his hand, came out. I was abashed
+and disconcerted at this interview. He started at seeing me; but,
+discovering in an instant who it was, his face assumed an expression in
+which shame and anger were powerfully blended. He seemed on the point of
+opening his mouth to rebuke me; but, suddenly checking himself, he said,
+in a tone of mildness, "How is this? Whence come you?"</p>
+
+<p>His emotion seemed to communicate itself, with an electrical rapidity,
+to my heart. My tongue faltered while I made some answer. I said, "I had
+been seeking relief from the heat of the weather, in the bath." He heard
+my explanation in silence; and, after a moment's pause, passed into his
+own room, and shut himself in. I hastened to my chamber.</p>
+
+<p>A different observer might have found in these circumstances no food for
+his suspicion or his wonder. To me, however, they suggested vague and
+tumultuous ideas.</p>
+
+<p>As I strode across the room I repeated, "This woman is his daughter.
+What proof have I of that? He once asserted it; and has frequently
+uttered allusions and hints from which no other inference could be
+drawn. The chamber from which he came, in an hour devoted to sleep, was
+hers. For what end could a visit like this be paid? A parent may visit
+his child at all seasons, without a crime. On seeing me, methought his
+features indicated more than surprise. A keen interpreter would be apt
+to suspect a consciousness of wrong. What if this woman be not his
+child! How shall their relationship be ascertained?"</p>
+
+<p>I was summoned at the customary hour to breakfast. My mind was full of
+ideas connected with this incident. I was not endowed with sufficient
+firmness to propose the cool and systematic observation of this man's
+deportment. I felt as if the state of my mind could not but be evident
+to him; and experienced in myself all the confusion which this discovery
+was calculated to produce in him. I would have willingly excused myself
+from meeting him; but that was impossible.</p>
+
+<p>At breakfast, after the usual salutations, nothing was said. For a time
+I scarcely lifted my eyes from the table. Stealing a glance at Welbeck,
+I discovered in his features nothing but his wonted gravity. He appeared
+occupied with thoughts that had no relation to last night's adventure.
+This encouraged me; and I gradually recovered my composure. Their
+inattention to me allowed me occasionally to throw scrutinizing and
+comparing glances at the face of each.</p>
+
+<p>The relationship of parent and child is commonly discovered in the
+visage; but the child may resemble either of its parents, yet have no
+feature in common with both. Here outlines, surfaces, and hues were in
+absolute contrariety. That kindred subsisted between them was possible,
+notwithstanding this dissimilitude; but this circumstance contributed to
+envenom my suspicions.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast being finished, Welbeck cast an eye of invitation to the
+piano-forte. The lady rose to comply with his request. My eye chanced
+to be, at that moment, fixed on her. In stepping to the instrument, some
+motion or appearance awakened a thought in my mind which affected my
+feelings like the shock of an earthquake.</p>
+
+<p>I have too slight acquaintance with the history of the passions to truly
+explain the emotion which now throbbed in my veins. I had been a
+stranger to what is called love. From subsequent reflection, I have
+contracted a suspicion that the sentiment with which I regarded this
+lady was not untinctured from this source, and that hence arose the
+turbulence of my feelings on observing what I construed into marks of
+pregnancy. The evidence afforded me was slight; yet it exercised an
+absolute sway over my belief.</p>
+
+<p>It was well that this suspicion had not been sooner excited. Now
+civility did not require my stay in the apartment, and nothing but
+flight could conceal the state of my mind. I hastened, therefore, to a
+distance, and shrouded myself in the friendly secrecy of my own chamber.</p>
+
+<p>The constitution of my mind is doubtless singular and perverse; yet that
+opinion, perhaps, is the fruit of my ignorance. It may by no means be
+uncommon for men to <i>fashion</i> their conclusions in opposition to
+evidence and <i>probability</i>, and so as to feed their malice and subvert
+their happiness. Thus it was, in an eminent degree, in my case. The
+simple fact was connected, in my mind, with a train of the most hateful
+consequences. The depravity of Welbeck was inferred from it. The charms
+of this angelic woman were tarnished and withered. I had formerly
+surveyed her as a precious and perfect monument, but now it was a scene
+of ruin and blast.</p>
+
+<p>This had been a source of sufficient anguish; but this was not all. I
+recollected that the claims of a parent had been urged. Will you believe
+that these claims were now admitted, and that they heightened the
+iniquity of Welbeck into the blackest and most stupendous of all crimes?
+These ideas were necessarily transient. Conclusions more conformable to
+appearances succeeded. This lady might have been lately reduced to
+widowhood. The recent loss of a beloved companion would sufficiently
+account for her dejection, and make her present situation compatible
+with duty.</p>
+
+<p>By this new train of ideas I was somewhat comforted. I saw the folly of
+precipitate inferences and the injustice of my atrocious imputations,
+and acquired some degree of patience in my present state of uncertainty.
+My heart was lightened of its wonted burden, and I laboured to invent
+some harmless explication of the scene that I had witnessed the
+preceding night.</p>
+
+<p>At dinner Welbeck appeared as usual, but not the lady. I ascribed her
+absence to some casual indisposition, and ventured to inquire into the
+state of her health. My companion said she was well, but that she had
+left the city for a month or two, finding the heat of summer
+inconvenient where she was. This was no unplausible reason for
+retirement. A candid mind would have acquiesced in this representation,
+and found in it nothing inconsistent with a supposition respecting the
+cause of appearances favourable to her character; but otherwise was I
+affected. The uneasiness which had flown for a moment returned, and I
+sunk into gloomy silence.</p>
+
+<p>From this I was roused by my patron, who requested me to deliver a
+billet, which he put into my hand, at the counting-house of Mr.
+Thetford, and to bring him an answer. This message was speedily
+performed. I entered a large building by the river-side. A spacious
+apartment presented itself, well furnished with pipes and hogsheads. In
+one corner was a smaller room, in which a gentleman was busy at writing.
+I advanced to the door of the room, but was there met by a young person,
+who received my paper and delivered it to him within. I stood still at
+the door; but was near enough to overhear what would pass between them.</p>
+
+<p>The letter was laid upon the desk, and presently he that sat at it
+lifted his eyes and glanced at the superscription. He scarcely spoke
+above a whisper; but his words, nevertheless, were clearly
+distinguishable. I did not call to mind the sound of his voice, but his
+words called up a train of recollections.</p>
+
+<p>"Lo!" said he, carelessly, "this from the <i>Nabob</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>An incident so slight as this was sufficient to open a spacious scene
+of meditation. This little word, half whispered in a thoughtless mood,
+was a key to unlock an extensive cabinet of secrets. Thetford was
+probably indifferent whether his exclamation were overheard. Little did
+he think on the inferences which would be built upon it.</p>
+
+<p>"The Nabob!" By this appellation had some one been denoted in the
+chamber dialogue of which I had been an unsuspected auditor. The man who
+pretended poverty, and yet gave proofs of inordinate wealth; whom it was
+pardonable to defraud of thirty thousand dollars; first, because the
+loss of that sum would be trivial to one opulent as he; and, secondly,
+because he was imagined to have acquired this opulence by other than
+honest methods. Instead of forthwith returning home, I wandered into the
+fields, to indulge myself in the new thoughts which were produced by
+this occurrence.</p>
+
+<p>I entertained no doubt that the person alluded to was my patron. No new
+light was thrown upon his character; unless something were deducible
+from the charge vaguely made, that his wealth was the fruit of illicit
+practices. He was opulent, and the sources of his wealth were unknown,
+if not to the rest of the community, at least to Thetford. But here had
+a plot been laid. The fortune of Thetford's brother was to rise from the
+success of artifices of which the credulity of Welbeck was to be the
+victim. To detect and to counterwork this plot was obviously my duty. My
+interference might now indeed be too late to be useful; but this was at
+least to be ascertained by experiment.</p>
+
+<p>How should my intention be effected? I had hitherto concealed from
+Welbeck my adventures at Thetford's house. These it was now necessary to
+disclose, and to mention the recent occurrence. My deductions, in
+consequence of my ignorance, might be erroneous; but of their truth his
+knowledge of his own affairs would enable him to judge. It was possible
+that Thetford and he whose chamber conversation I had overheard were
+different persons. I endeavoured in vain to ascertain their identity by
+a comparison of their voices. The words lately heard, my remembrance
+did not enable me certainly to pronounce to be uttered by the same
+organs.</p>
+
+<p>This uncertainty was of little moment. It sufficed that Welbeck was
+designated by this appellation, and that therefore he was proved to be
+the subject of some fraudulent proceeding. The information that I
+possessed it was my duty to communicate as expeditiously as possible. I
+was resolved to employ the first opportunity that offered for this end.</p>
+
+<p>My meditations had been ardently pursued, and, when I recalled my
+attention, I found myself bewildered among fields and fences. It was
+late before I extricated myself from unknown paths, and reached home.</p>
+
+<p>I entered the parlour; but Welbeck was not there. A table, with
+tea-equipage for one person, was set; from which I inferred that Welbeck
+was engaged abroad. This belief was confirmed by the report of the
+servant. He could not inform me where his master was, but merely that he
+should not take tea at home. This incident was a source of vexation and
+impatience. I knew not but that delay would be of the utmost moment to
+the safety of my friend. Wholly unacquainted as I was with the nature of
+his contracts with Thetford, I could not decide whether a single hour
+would not avail to obviate the evils that threatened him. Had I known
+whither to trace his footsteps, I should certainly have sought an
+immediate interview; but, as it was, I was obliged to wait, with what
+patience I could collect, for his return to his own house.</p>
+
+<p>I waited hour after hour in vain. The sun declined, and the shades of
+evening descended; but Welbeck was still at a distance.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Welbeck did not return, though hour succeeded hour till the clock struck
+ten. I inquired of the servants, who informed me that their master was
+not accustomed to stay out so late. I seated myself at a table, in a
+parlour, on which there stood a light, and listened for the signal of
+his coming, either by the sound of steps on the pavement without or by a
+peal from the bell. The silence was uninterrupted and profound, and each
+minute added to my sum of impatience and anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>To relieve myself from the heat of the weather, which was aggravated by
+the condition of my thoughts, as well as to beguile this tormenting
+interval, it occurred to me to betake myself to the bath. I left the
+candle where it stood, and imagined that even in the bath I should hear
+the sound of the bell which would be rung upon his arrival at the door.</p>
+
+<p>No such signal occurred, and, after taking this refreshment, I prepared
+to return to my post. The parlour was still unoccupied, but this was not
+all; the candle I had left upon the table was gone. This was an
+inexplicable circumstance. On my promise to wait for their master, the
+servants had retired to bed. No signal of any one's entrance had been
+given. The street door was locked, and the key hung at its customary
+place upon the wall. What was I to think? It was obvious to suppose that
+the candle had been removed by a domestic; but their footsteps could not
+be traced, and I was not sufficiently acquainted with the house to find
+the way, especially immersed in darkness, to their chamber. One measure,
+however, it was evidently proper to take, which was to supply myself,
+anew, with a light. This was instantly performed; but what was next to
+be done?</p>
+
+<p>I was weary of the perplexities in which I was embroiled. I saw no
+avenue to escape from them but that which led me to the bosom of nature
+and to my ancient occupations. For a moment I was tempted to resume my
+rustic garb, and, on that very hour, to desert this habitation. One
+thing only detained me; the desire to apprize my patron of the treachery
+of Thetford. For this end I was anxious to obtain an interview; but now
+I reflected that this information could by other means be imparted. Was
+it not sufficient to write him briefly these particulars, and leave him
+to profit by the knowledge? Thus I might, likewise, acquaint him with my
+motives for thus abruptly and unseasonably deserting his service.</p>
+
+<p>To the execution of this scheme pen and paper were necessary. The
+business of writing was performed in the chamber on the third story. I
+had been hitherto denied access to this room. In it was a show of papers
+and books. Here it was that the task, for which I had been retained, was
+to be performed; but I was to enter it and leave it only in company with
+Welbeck. For what reasons, I asked, was this procedure to be adopted?</p>
+
+<p>The influence of prohibitions and an appearance of disguise in awakening
+curiosity is well known. My mind fastened upon the idea of this room
+with an unusual degree of intenseness. I had seen it but for a moment.
+Many of Welbeck's hours were spent in it. It was not to be inferred that
+they were consumed in idleness: what then was the nature of his
+employment over which a veil of such impenetrable secrecy was cast?</p>
+
+<p>Will you wonder that the design of entering this recess was insensibly
+formed? Possibly it was locked, but its accessibleness was likewise
+possible. I meant not the commission of any crime. My principal purpose
+was to procure the implements of writing, which were elsewhere not to be
+found. I should neither unseal papers nor open drawers. I would merely
+take a survey of the volumes and attend to the objects that
+spontaneously presented themselves to my view. In this there surely was
+nothing criminal or blameworthy. Meanwhile I was not unmindful of the
+sudden disappearance of the candle. This incident filled my bosom with
+the inquietudes of fear and the perturbations of wonder.</p>
+
+<p>Once more I paused to catch any sound that might arise from without. All
+was still. I seized the candle and prepared to mount the stairs. I had
+not reached the first landing when I called to mind my midnight meeting
+with Welbeck at the door of his daughter's chamber. The chamber was now
+desolate; perhaps it was accessible; if so, no injury was done by
+entering it. My curiosity was strong, but it pictured to itself no
+precise object. Three steps would bear me to the door. The trial,
+whether it was fastened, might be made in a moment; and I readily
+imagined that something might be found within to reward the trouble of
+examination. The door yielded to my hand, and I entered.</p>
+
+<p>No remarkable object was discoverable. The apartment was supplied with
+the usual furniture. I bent my steps towards a table over which a mirror
+was suspended. My glances, which roved with swiftness from one object to
+another, shortly lighted on a miniature portrait that hung near. I
+scrutinized it with eagerness. It was impossible to overlook its
+resemblance to my own visage. This was so great that for a moment I
+imagined myself to have been the original from which it had been drawn.
+This flattering conception yielded place to a belief merely of
+similitude between me and the genuine original.</p>
+
+<p>The thoughts which this opinion was fitted to produce were suspended by
+a new object. A small volume, that had, apparently, been much used, lay
+upon the toilet. I opened it, and found it to contain some of the Dramas
+of Apostolo Zeno. I turned over the leaves; a written paper saluted my
+sight. A single glance informed me that it was English. For the present
+I was insensible to all motives that would command me to forbear. I
+seized the paper with an intention to peruse it.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment a stunning report was heard. It was loud enough to shake
+the walls of the apartment, and abrupt enough to throw me into tremors.
+I dropped the book and yielded for a moment to confusion and surprise.
+From what quarter it came, I was unable accurately to determine; but
+there could be no doubt, from its loudness, that it was near, and even
+in the house. It was no less manifest that the sound arose from the
+discharge of a pistol. Some hand must have drawn the trigger. I
+recollected the disappearance of the candle from the room below.
+Instantly a supposition darted into my mind which made my hair rise and
+my teeth chatter.</p>
+
+<p>"This," I said, "is the deed of Welbeck. He entered while I was absent
+from the room; he hied to his chamber; and, prompted by some unknown
+instigation, has inflicted on himself death!" This idea had a tendency
+to palsy my limbs and my thoughts. Some time passed in painful and
+tumultuous fluctuation. My aversion to this catastrophe, rather than a
+belief of being, by that means, able to prevent or repair the evil,
+induced me to attempt to enter his chamber. It was possible that my
+conjectures were erroneous.</p>
+
+<p>The door of his room was locked. I knocked; I demanded entrance in a low
+voice; I put my eye and my ear to the keyhole and the crevices; nothing
+could be heard or seen. It was unavoidable to conclude that no one was
+within; yet the effluvia of gunpowder was perceptible.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the room above had been the scene of this catastrophe. I
+ascended the second flight of stairs. I approached the door. No sound
+could be caught by my most vigilant attention. I put out the light that
+I carried, and was then able to perceive that there was light within the
+room. I scarcely knew how to act. For some minutes I paused at the door.
+I spoke, and requested permission to enter. My words were succeeded by a
+death-like stillness. At length I ventured softly to withdraw the bolt,
+to open and to advance within the room. Nothing could exceed the horror
+of my expectation; yet I was startled by the scene that I beheld.</p>
+
+<p>In a chair, whose back was placed against the front wall, sat Welbeck.
+My entrance alarmed him not, nor roused him from the stupor into which
+he was plunged. He rested his hands upon his knees, and his eyes were
+riveted to something that lay, at the distance of a few feet before
+him, on the floor. A second glance was sufficient to inform me of what
+nature this object was. It was the body of a man, bleeding, ghastly, and
+still exhibiting the marks of convulsion and agony!</p>
+
+<p>I shall omit to describe the shock which a spectacle like this
+communicated to my unpractised senses. I was nearly as panic-struck and
+powerless as Welbeck himself. I gazed, without power of speech, at one
+time, at Welbeck; then I fixed terrified eyes on the distorted features
+of the dead. At length, Welbeck, recovering from his reverie, looked up,
+as if to see who it was that had entered. No surprise, no alarm, was
+betrayed by him on seeing me. He manifested no desire or intention to
+interrupt the fearful silence.</p>
+
+<p>My thoughts wandered in confusion and terror. The first impulse was to
+fly from the scene; but I could not be long insensible to the exigences
+of the moment. I saw that affairs must not be suffered to remain in
+their present situation. The insensibility or despair of Welbeck
+required consolation and succour. How to communicate my thoughts, or
+offer my assistance, I knew not. What led to this murderous catastrophe;
+who it was whose breathless corpse was before me; what concern Welbeck
+had in producing his death; were as yet unknown.</p>
+
+<p>At length he rose from his seat, and strode at first with faltering, and
+then with more steadfast steps, across the floor. This motion seemed to
+put him in possession of himself. He seemed now, for the first time, to
+recognise my presence. He turned to me, and said, in a tone of
+severity,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"How now? What brings you here?"</p>
+
+<p>This rebuke was unexpected. I stammered out, in reply, that the report
+of the pistol had alarmed me, and that I came to discover the cause of
+it.</p>
+
+<p>He noticed not my answer, but resumed his perturbed steps, and his
+anxious but abstracted looks. Suddenly he checked himself, and, glancing
+a furious eye at the corpse, he muttered, "Yes, the die is cast. This
+worthless and miserable scene shall last no longer. I will at once get
+rid of life and all its humiliations."</p>
+
+<p>Here succeeded a new pause. The course of his thoughts seemed now to
+become once more tranquil. Sadness, rather than fury, overspread his
+features; and his accent, when he spoke to me, was not faltering, but
+solemn.</p>
+
+<p>"Mervyn," said he, "you comprehend not this scene. Your youth and
+inexperience make you a stranger to a deceitful and flagitious world.
+You know me not. It is time that this ignorance should vanish. The
+knowledge of me and of my actions may be of use to you. It may teach you
+to avoid the shoals on which my virtue and my peace have been wrecked;
+but to the rest of mankind it can be of no use. The ruin of my fame is,
+perhaps, irretrievable; but the height of my iniquity need not be known.
+I perceive in you a rectitude and firmness worthy to be trusted; promise
+me, therefore, that not a syllable of what I tell you shall ever pass
+your lips."</p>
+
+<p>I had lately experienced the inconvenience of a promise; but I was now
+confused, embarrassed, ardently inquisitive as to the nature of this
+scene, and unapprized of the motives that might afterwards occur,
+persuading or compelling me to disclosure. The promise which he exacted
+was given. He resumed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I have detained you in my service, partly for your own benefit, but
+chiefly for mine. I intended to inflict upon you injury and to do you
+good. Neither of these ends can I now accomplish, unless the lessons
+which my example may inculcate shall inspire you with fortitude and arm
+you with caution.</p>
+
+<p>"What it was that made me thus, I know not. I am not destitute of
+understanding. My thirst of knowledge, though irregular, is ardent. I
+can talk and can feel as virtue and justice prescribe; yet the tenor of
+my actions has been uniform. One tissue of iniquity and folly has been
+my life; while my thoughts have been familiar with enlightened and
+disinterested principles. Scorn and detestation I have heaped upon
+myself. Yesterday is remembered with remorse. To-morrow is contemplated
+with anguish and fear; yet every day is productive of the same crimes
+and of the same follies.</p>
+
+<p>"I was left, by the insolvency of my father, (a trader of Liverpool,)
+without any means of support but such as labour should afford me.
+Whatever could generate pride, and the love of independence, was my
+portion. Whatever can incite to diligence was the growth of my
+condition; yet my indolence was a cureless disease; and there were no
+arts too sordid for me to practise.</p>
+
+<p>"I was content to live on the bounty of a kinsman. His family was
+numerous, and his revenue small. He forbore to upbraid me, or even to
+insinuate the propriety of providing for myself; but he empowered me to
+pursue any liberal or mechanical profession which might suit my taste. I
+was insensible to every generous motive. I laboured to forget my
+dependent and disgraceful condition, because the remembrance was a
+source of anguish, without being able to inspire me with a steady
+resolution to change it.</p>
+
+<p>"I contracted an acquaintance with a woman who was unchaste, perverse,
+and malignant. Me, however, she found it no difficult task to deceive.
+My uncle remonstrated against the union. He took infinite pains to
+unveil my error, and to convince me that wedlock was improper for one
+destitute, as I was, of the means of support, even if the object of my
+choice were personally unexceptionable.</p>
+
+<p>"His representations were listened to with anger. That he thwarted my
+will in this respect, even by affectionate expostulation, cancelled all
+that debt of gratitude which I owed to him. I rewarded him for all his
+kindness by invective and disdain, and hastened to complete my
+ill-omened marriage. I had deceived the woman's father by assertions of
+possessing secret resources. To gratify my passion, I descended to
+dissimulation and falsehood. He admitted me into his family, as the
+husband of his child; but the character of my wife and the fallacy of my
+assertions were quickly discovered. He denied me accommodation under his
+roof, and I was turned forth to the world to endure the penalty of my
+rashness and my indolence.</p>
+
+<p>"Temptation would have moulded me into any villanous shape. My virtuous
+theories and comprehensive erudition would not have saved me from the
+basest of crimes. Luckily for me, I was, for the present, exempted from
+temptation. I had formed an acquaintance with a young American captain.
+On being partially informed of my situation, he invited me to embark
+with him for his own country. My passage was gratuitous. I arrived, in a
+short time, at Charleston, which was the place of his abode.</p>
+
+<p>"He introduced me to his family, every member of which was, like
+himself, imbued with affection and benevolence. I was treated like their
+son and brother. I was hospitably entertained until I should be able to
+select some path of lucrative industry. Such was my incurable depravity,
+that I made no haste to select my pursuit. An interval of inoccupation
+succeeded, which I applied to the worst purposes.</p>
+
+<p>"My friend had a sister, who was married, but during the absence of her
+husband resided with her family. Hence originated our acquaintance. The
+purest of human hearts and the most vigorous understanding were hers.
+She idolized her husband, who well deserved to be the object of her
+adoration. Her affection for him, and her general principles, appeared
+to be confirmed beyond the power to be shaken. I sought her intercourse
+without illicit views; I delighted in the effusions of her candour and
+the flashes of her intelligence; I conformed, by a kind of instinctive
+hypocrisy, to her views; I spoke and felt from the influence of
+immediate and momentary conviction. She imagined she had found in me a
+friend worthy to partake in all her sympathies and forward all her
+wishes. We were mutually deceived. She was the victim of self-delusion;
+but I must charge myself with practising deceit both upon myself and
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"I reflect with astonishment and horror on the steps which led to her
+degradation and to my calamity. In the high career of passion all
+consequences were overlooked. She was the dupe of the most audacious
+sophistry and the grossest delusion. I was the slave of sensual impulses
+and voluntary blindness. The effect may be easily conceived. Not till
+symptoms of pregnancy began to appear were our eyes opened to the ruin
+which impended over us.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I began to revolve the consequences, which the mist of passion had
+hitherto concealed. I was tormented by the pangs of remorse, and pursued
+by the phantom of ingratitude. To complete my despair, this unfortunate
+lady was apprized of my marriage with another woman; a circumstance
+which I had anxiously concealed from her. She fled from her father's
+house at a time when her husband and brother were hourly expected. What
+became of her I knew not. She left behind her a letter to her father, in
+which the melancholy truth was told.</p>
+
+<p>"Shame and remorse had no power over my life. To elude the storm of
+invective and upbraiding, to quiet the uproar of my mind, I did not
+betake myself to voluntary death. My pusillanimity still clung to this
+wretched existence. I abruptly retired from the scene, and, repairing to
+the port, embarked in the first vessel which appeared. The ship chanced
+to belong to Wilmington, in Delaware, and here I sought out an obscure
+and cheap abode.</p>
+
+<p>"I possessed no means of subsistence. I was unknown to my neighbours,
+and desired to remain unknown. I was unqualified for manual labour by
+all the habits of my life; but there was no choice between penury and
+diligence,&mdash;between honest labour and criminal inactivity. I mused
+incessantly on the forlornness of my condition. Hour after hour passed,
+and the horrors of want began to encompass me. I sought with eagerness
+for an avenue by which I might escape from it. The perverseness of my
+nature led me on from one guilty thought to another. I took refuge in my
+customary sophistries, and reconciled myself at length to a scheme
+of&mdash;<i>forgery</i>!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER X.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Having ascertained my purpose, it was requisite to search out the means
+by which I might effect it. These were not clearly or readily suggested.
+The more I contemplated my project, the more numerous and arduous its
+difficulties appeared. I had no associates in my undertaking. A due
+regard to my safety, and the unextinguished sense of honour, deterred me
+from seeking auxiliaries and co-agents. The esteem of mankind was the
+spring of all my activity, the parent of all my virtue and all my vice.
+To preserve this, it was necessary that my guilty projects should have
+neither witness nor partaker.</p>
+
+<p>"I quickly discovered that to execute this scheme demanded time,
+application, and money, none of which my present situation would permit
+me to devote to it. At first it appeared that an attainable degree of
+skill and circumspection would enable me to arrive, by means of
+counterfeit bills, to the pinnacle of affluence and honour. My error was
+detected by a closer scrutiny, and I finally saw nothing in this path
+but enormous perils and insurmountable impediments.</p>
+
+<p>"Yet what alternative was offered me? To maintain myself by the labour
+of my hands, to perform any toilsome or prescribed task, was
+incompatible with my nature. My habits debarred me from country
+occupations. My pride regarded as vile and ignominious drudgery any
+employment which the town could afford. Meanwhile, my wants were as
+urgent as ever, and my funds were exhausted.</p>
+
+<p>"There are few, perhaps, whose external situation resembled mine, who
+would have found in it any thing but incitements to industry and
+invention. A thousand methods of subsistence, honest but laborious,
+were at my command, but to these I entertained an irreconcilable
+aversion. Ease and the respect attendant upon opulence I was willing to
+purchase at the price of ever-wakeful suspicion and eternal remorse;
+but, even at this price, the purchase was impossible.</p>
+
+<p>"The desperateness of my condition became hourly more apparent. The
+further I extended my view, the darker grew the clouds which hung over
+futurity. Anguish and infamy appeared to be the inseparable conditions
+of my existence. There was one mode of evading the evils that impended.
+To free myself from self-upbraiding and to shun the persecutions of my
+fortune was possible only by shaking off life itself.</p>
+
+<p>"One evening, as I traversed the bank of the creek, these dismal
+meditations were uncommonly intense. They at length terminated in a
+resolution to throw myself into the stream. The first impulse was to
+rush instantly to my death; but the remembrance of papers, lying at my
+lodgings, which might unfold more than I desired to the curiosity of
+survivors, induced me to postpone this catastrophe till the next
+morning.</p>
+
+<p>"My purpose being formed, I found my heart lightened of its usual
+weight. By you it will be thought strange, but it is nevertheless true,
+that I derived from this new prospect not only tranquillity but
+cheerfulness. I hastened home. As soon as I entered, my landlord
+informed me that a person had been searching for me in my absence. This
+was an unexampled incident, and foreboded me no good. I was strongly
+persuaded that my visitant had been led hither not by friendly but
+hostile purposes. This persuasion was confirmed by the description of
+the stranger's guise and demeanour given by my landlord. My fears
+instantly recognised the image of Watson, the man by whom I had been so
+eminently benefited, and whose kindness I had compensated by the ruin of
+his sister and the confusion of his family.</p>
+
+<p>"An interview with this man was less to be endured than to look upon the
+face of an avenging deity. I was determined to avoid this interview,
+and, for this end, to execute my fatal purpose within the hour. My
+papers were collected with a tremulous hand, and consigned to the
+flames. I then bade my landlord inform all visitants that I should not
+return till the next day, and once more hastened towards the river.</p>
+
+<p>"My way led past the inn where one of the stages from Baltimore was
+accustomed to stop. I was not unaware that Watson had possibly been
+brought in the coach which had recently arrived, and which now stood
+before the door of the inn. The danger of my being descried or
+encountered by him as I passed did not fail to occur. This was to be
+eluded by deviating from the main street.</p>
+
+<p>"Scarcely had I turned a corner for this purpose when I was accosted by
+a young man whom I knew to be an inhabitant of the town, but with whom I
+had hitherto had no intercourse but what consisted in a transient
+salutation. He apologized for the liberty of addressing me, and, at the
+same time, inquired if I understood the French language.</p>
+
+<p>"Being answered in the affirmative, he proceeded to tell me that in the
+stage, just arrived, had come a passenger, a youth who appeared to be
+French, who was wholly unacquainted with our language, and who had been
+seized with a violent disease.</p>
+
+<p>"My informant had felt compassion for the forlorn condition of the
+stranger, and had just been seeking me at my lodgings, in hope that my
+knowledge of French would enable me to converse with the sick man, and
+obtain from him a knowledge of his situation and views.</p>
+
+<p>"The apprehensions I had precipitately formed were thus removed, and I
+readily consented to perform this service. The youth was, indeed, in a
+deplorable condition. Besides the pains of his disease, he was
+overpowered by dejection. The innkeeper was extremely anxious for the
+removal of his guest. He was by no means willing to sustain the trouble
+and expense of a sick or a dying man, for which it was scarcely probable
+that he should ever be reimbursed. The traveller had no baggage, and his
+dress betokened the pressure of many wants.</p>
+
+<p>"My compassion for this stranger was powerfully awakened. I was in
+possession of a suitable apartment, for which I had no power to pay the
+rent that was accruing; but my inability in this respect was unknown,
+and I might enjoy my lodgings unmolested for some weeks. The fate of
+this youth would be speedily decided, and I should be left at liberty to
+execute my first intentions before my embarrassments should be visibly
+increased.</p>
+
+<p>"After a moment's pause, I conducted the stranger to my home, placed him
+in my own bed, and became his nurse. His malady was such as is known in
+the tropical islands by the name of the yellow or malignant fever, and
+the physician who was called speedily pronounced his case desperate.</p>
+
+<p>"It was my duty to warn him of the death that was hastening, and to
+promise the fulfilment of any of his wishes not inconsistent with my
+present situation. He received my intelligence with fortitude, and
+appeared anxious to communicate some information respecting his own
+state. His pangs and his weakness scarcely allowed him to be
+intelligible. From his feeble efforts and broken narrative I collected
+thus much concerning his family and fortune.</p>
+
+<p>"His father's name was Vincentio Lodi. From a merchant at Leghorn, he
+had changed himself into a planter in the island of Guadaloupe. His son
+had been sent, at an early age, for the benefits of education, to
+Europe. The young Vincentio was, at length, informed by his father,
+that, being weary of his present mode of existence, he had determined to
+sell his property and transport himself to the United States. The son
+was directed to hasten home, that he might embark, with his father, on
+this voyage.</p>
+
+<p>"The summons was cheerfully obeyed. The youth, on his arrival at the
+island, found preparation making for the funeral of his father. It
+appeared that the elder Lodi had flattered one of his slaves with the
+prospect of his freedom, but had, nevertheless, included this slave in
+the sale that he had made of his estate. Actuated by revenge, the slave
+assassinated Lodi in the open street, and resigned himself, without a
+struggle, to the punishment which the law had provided for such a deed.</p>
+
+<p>"The property had been recently transferred, and the price was now
+presented to young Vincentio by the purchaser. He was by no means
+inclined to adopt his father's project, and was impatient to return with
+his inheritance to France. Before this could be done, the conduct of his
+father had rendered a voyage to the Continent indispensable.</p>
+
+<p>"Lodi had a daughter, whom, a few weeks previous to his death, he had
+intrusted to an American captain for whom he had contracted a
+friendship. The vessel was bound to Philadelphia; but the conduct she
+was to pursue, and the abode she was to select, on her arrival, were
+known only to the father, whose untimely death involved the son in
+considerable uncertainty with regard to his sister's fate. His anxiety
+on this account induced him to seize the first conveyance that offered.
+In a short time he landed at Baltimore.</p>
+
+<p>"As soon as he recovered from the fatigues of his voyage, he prepared to
+go to Philadelphia. Thither his baggage was immediately sent under the
+protection of a passenger and countryman. His money consisted in
+Portuguese gold, which, in pursuance of advice, he had changed into
+bank-notes. He besought me, in pathetic terms, to search out his sister,
+whose youth and poverty, and ignorance of the language and manners of
+the country, might expose her to innumerable hardships. At the same
+time, he put a pocket-book and small volume into my hand, indicating, by
+his countenance and gestures, his desire that I would deliver them to
+his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"His obsequies being decently performed, I had leisure to reflect upon
+the change in my condition which this incident had produced. In the
+pocket-book were found bills to the amount of twenty thousand dollars.
+The volume proved to be a manuscript, written by the elder Lodi in
+Italian, and contained memoirs of the ducal house of Visconti, from whom
+the writer believed himself to have lineally descended.</p>
+
+<p>"Thus had I arrived, by an avenue so much beyond my foresight, at the
+possession of wealth. The evil which impelled me to the brink of
+suicide, and which was the source, though not of all, yet of the larger
+portion, of my anguish, was now removed. What claims to honour or to
+ease were consequent on riches were, by an extraordinary fortune, now
+conferred upon me.</p>
+
+<p>"Such, for a time, were my new-born but transitory raptures. I forgot
+that this money was not mine. That it had been received, under every
+sanction of fidelity, for another's use. To retain it was equivalent to
+robbery. The sister of the deceased was the rightful claimant; it was my
+duty to search her out, and perform my tacit but sacred obligations, by
+putting the whole into her possession.</p>
+
+<p>"This conclusion was too adverse to my wishes not to be strenuously
+combated. I asked what it was that gave man the power of ascertaining
+the successor to his property. During his life, he might transfer the
+actual possession; but, if vacant at his death, he into whose hands
+accident should cast it was the genuine proprietor. It is true, that the
+law had sometimes otherwise decreed, but in law there was no validity
+further than it was able, by investigation and punishment, to enforce
+its decrees: but would the law extort this money from me?</p>
+
+<p>"It was rather by gesture than by words that the will of Lodi was
+imparted. It was the topic of remote inferences and vague conjecture
+rather than of explicit and unerring declarations. Besides, if the lady
+were found, would not prudence dictate the reservation of her fortune to
+be administered by me, for her benefit? Of this her age and education
+had disqualified herself. It was sufficient for the maintenance of both.
+She would regard me as her benefactor and protector. By supplying all
+her wants and watching over her safety without apprizing her of the
+means by which I shall be enabled to do this, I shall lay irresistible
+claims to her love and her gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>"Such were the sophistries by which reason was seduced and my integrity
+annihilated. I hastened away from my present abode. I easily traced the
+baggage of the deceased to an inn, and gained possession of it. It
+contained nothing but clothes and books. I then instituted the most
+diligent search after the young lady. For a time, my exertions were
+fruitless.</p>
+
+<p>"Meanwhile, the possessor of this house thought proper to embark with
+his family for Europe. The sum which he demanded for his furniture,
+though enormous, was precipitately paid by me. His servants were
+continued in their former stations, and in the day at which he
+relinquished the mansion, I entered on possession.</p>
+
+<p>"There was no difficulty in persuading the world that Welbeck was a
+personage of opulence and rank. My birth and previous adventures it was
+proper to conceal. The facility with which mankind are misled in their
+estimate of characters, their proneness to multiply inferences and
+conjectures, will not be readily conceived by one destitute of my
+experience. My sudden appearance on the stage, my stately reserve, my
+splendid habitation, and my circumspect deportment, were sufficient to
+entitle me to homage. The artifices that were used to unveil the truth,
+and the guesses that were current respecting me, were adapted to gratify
+my ruling passion.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not remit my diligence to discover the retreat of Mademoiselle
+Lodi. I found her, at length, in the family of a kinsman of the captain
+under whose care she had come to America. Her situation was irksome and
+perilous. She had already experienced the evils of being protectorless
+and indigent, and my seasonable interference snatched her from impending
+and less supportable ills.</p>
+
+<p>"I could safely unfold all that I knew of her brother's history, except
+the legacy which he had left. I ascribed the diligence with which I had
+sought her to his death-bed injunctions, and prevailed upon her to
+accept from me the treatment which she would have received from her
+brother if he had continued to live, and if his power to benefit had
+been equal to my own.</p>
+
+<p>"Though less can be said in praise of the understanding than of the
+sensibilities of this woman, she is one whom no one could refrain from
+loving, though placed in situations far less favourable to the
+generation of that sentiment than mine. In habits of domestic and
+incessant intercourse, in the perpetual contemplation of features
+animated by boundless gratitude and ineffable sympathies, it could not
+be expected that either she or I should escape enchantment.</p>
+
+<p>"The poison was too sweet not to be swallowed with avidity by me. Too
+late I remembered that I was already enslaved by inextricable
+obligations. It was easy to have hidden this impediment from the eyes of
+my companion, but here my integrity refused to yield. I can, indeed, lay
+claim to little merit on account of this forbearance. If there had been
+no alternative between deceit and the frustration of my hopes, I should
+doubtless have dissembled the truth with as little scruple on this as on
+a different occasion; but I could not be blind to the weakness of her
+with whom I had to contend.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Meanwhile large deductions had been made from my stock of money, and
+the remnant would be speedily consumed by my present mode of life. My
+expenses far exceeded my previous expectations. In no long time I should
+be reduced to my ancient poverty, which the luxurious existence that I
+now enjoyed, and the regard due to my beloved and helpless companion,
+would render more irksome than ever. Some scheme to rescue me from this
+fate was indispensable; but my aversion to labour, to any pursuit the
+end of which was merely gain, and which would require application and
+attention, continued undiminished.</p>
+
+<p>"I was plunged anew into dejection and perplexity. From this I was
+somewhat relieved by a plan suggested by Mr. Thetford. I thought I had
+experience of his knowledge and integrity, and the scheme that he
+proposed seemed liable to no possibility of miscarriage. A ship was to
+be purchased, supplied with a suitable cargo, and despatched to a port
+in the West Indies. Loss from storms and enemies was to be precluded by
+insurance. Every hazard was to be enumerated, and the ship and cargo
+valued at the highest rate. Should the voyage be safely performed, the
+profits would be double the original expense. Should the ship be taken
+or wrecked, the insurers would have bound themselves to make ample,
+speedy, and certain indemnification. Thetford's brother, a wary and
+experienced trader, was to be the supercargo.</p>
+
+<p>"All my money was laid out upon this scheme. Scarcely enough was
+reserved to supply domestic and personal wants. Large debts were
+likewise incurred. Our caution had, as we conceived, annihilated every
+chance of failure. Too much could not be expended on a project so
+infallible; and the vessel, amply fitted and freighted, departed on her
+voyage.</p>
+
+<p>"An interval, not devoid of suspense and anxiety, succeeded. My
+mercantile inexperience made me distrust the clearness of my own
+discernment, and I could not but remember that my utter and
+irretrievable destruction was connected with the failure of my scheme.
+Time added to my distrust and apprehensions. The time at which tidings
+of the ship were to be expected elapsed without affording any
+information of her destiny. My anxieties, however, were to be carefully
+hidden from the world. I had taught mankind to believe that this project
+had been adopted more for amusement than gain; and the debts which I had
+contracted seemed to arise from willingness to adhere to established
+maxims, more than from the pressure of necessity.</p>
+
+<p>"Month succeeded month, and intelligence was still withheld. The notes
+which I had given for one-third of the cargo, and for the premium of
+insurance, would shortly become due. For the payment of the former, and
+the cancelling of the latter, I had relied upon the expeditious return
+or the demonstrated loss of the vessel. Neither of these events had
+taken place.</p>
+
+<p>"My cares were augmented from another quarter. My companion's situation
+now appeared to be such as, if our intercourse had been sanctified by
+wedlock, would have been regarded with delight. As it was, no symptoms
+were equally to be deplored. Consequences, as long as they were involved
+in uncertainty, were extenuated or overlooked; but now, when they became
+apparent and inevitable, were fertile of distress and upbraiding.</p>
+
+<p>"Indefinable fears, and a desire to monopolize all the meditations and
+affections of this being, had induced me to perpetuate her ignorance of
+any but her native language, and debar her from all intercourse with the
+world. My friends were of course inquisitive respecting her character,
+adventures, and particularly her relation to me. The consciousness how
+much the truth redounded to my dishonour made me solicitous to lead
+conjecture astray. For this purpose I did not discountenance the
+conclusion that was adopted by some,&mdash;that she was my daughter. I
+reflected that all dangerous surmises would be effectually precluded by
+this belief.</p>
+
+<p>"These precautions afforded me some consolation in my present
+difficulties. It was requisite to conceal the lady's condition from the
+world. If this should be ineffectual, it would not be difficult to
+divert suspicion from my person. The secrecy that I had practised would
+be justified, in the apprehension of those to whom the personal
+condition of Clemenza should be disclosed, by the feelings of a father.</p>
+
+<p>"Meanwhile, it was an obvious expedient to remove the unhappy lady to a
+distance from impertinent observers. A rural retreat, lonely and
+sequestered, was easily procured, and hither she consented to repair.
+This arrangement being concerted, I had leisure to reflect upon the
+evils which every hour brought nearer, and which threatened to
+exterminate me.</p>
+
+<p>"My inquietudes forbade me to sleep, and I was accustomed to rise before
+day and seek some respite in the fields. Returning from one of these
+unseasonable rambles, I chanced to meet you. Your resemblance to the
+deceased Lodi, in person and visage, is remarkable. When you first met
+my eye, this similitude startled me. Your subsequent appeal to my
+compassion was clothed in such terms as formed a powerful contrast with
+your dress, and prepossessed me greatly in favour of your education and
+capacity.</p>
+
+<p>"In my present hopeless condition, every incident, however trivial, was
+attentively considered, with a view to extract from it some means of
+escaping from my difficulties. My love for the Italian girl, in spite of
+all my efforts to keep it alive, had begun to languish. Marriage was
+impossible; and had now, in some degree, ceased to be desirable. We are
+apt to judge of others by ourselves. The passion I now found myself
+disposed to ascribe chiefly to fortuitous circumstances; to the impulse
+of gratitude, and the exclusion of competitors; and believed that your
+resemblance to her brother, your age and personal accomplishments,
+might, after a certain time, and in consequence of suitable
+contrivances on my part, give a new direction to her feelings. To gain
+your concurrence, I relied upon your simplicity, your gratitude, and
+your susceptibility to the charms of this bewitching creature.</p>
+
+<p>"I contemplated, likewise, another end. Mrs. Wentworth is rich. A youth
+who was once her favourite, and designed to inherit her fortunes, has
+disappeared, for some years, from the scene. His death is most probable,
+but of that there is no satisfactory information. The life of this
+person, whose name is Clavering, is an obstacle to some designs which
+had occurred to me in relation to this woman. My purposes were crude and
+scarcely formed. I need not swell the catalogue of my errors by
+expatiating upon them. Suffice it to say that the peculiar circumstances
+of your introduction to me led me to reflections on the use that might
+be made of your agency, in procuring this lady's acquiescence in my
+schemes. You were to be ultimately persuaded to confirm her in the
+belief that her nephew was dead. To this consummation it was
+indispensable to lead you by slow degrees and circuitous paths.
+Meanwhile, a profound silence, with regard to your genuine history, was
+to be observed; and to this forbearance your consent was obtained with
+more readiness than I expected.</p>
+
+<p>"There was an additional motive for the treatment you received from me.
+My personal projects and cares had hitherto prevented me from reading
+Lodi's manuscript; a slight inspection, however, was sufficient to prove
+that the work was profound and eloquent. My ambition has panted, with
+equal avidity, after the reputation of literature and opulence. To claim
+the authorship of this work was too harmless and specious a stratagem
+not to be readily suggested. I meant to translate it into English, and
+to enlarge it by enterprising incidents of my own invention. My scruples
+to assume the merit of the original composer might thus be removed. For
+this end, your assistance as an amanuensis would be necessary.</p>
+
+<p>"You will perceive that all these projects depended on the seasonable
+arrival of intelligence from &mdash;&mdash;. The delay of another week would seal
+my destruction. The silence might arise from the foundering of the ship
+and the destruction of all on board. In this case, the insurance was not
+forfeited, but payment could not be obtained within a year. Meanwhile,
+the premium and other debts must be immediately discharged, and this was
+beyond my power. Meanwhile, I was to live in a manner that would not
+belie my pretensions; but my coffers were empty.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot adequately paint the anxieties with which I have been haunted.
+Each hour has added to the burden of my existence, till, in consequence
+of the events of this day, it has become altogether insupportable. Some
+hours ago, I was summoned by Thetford to his house. The messenger
+informed me that tidings had been received of my ship. In answer to my
+eager interrogations, he could give no other information than that she
+had been captured by the British. He was unable to relate particulars.</p>
+
+<p>"News of her safe return would, indeed, have been far more acceptable;
+but even this information was a source of infinite congratulation. It
+precluded the demand of my insurers. The payment of other debts might be
+postponed for a month, and my situation be the same as before the
+adoption of this successless scheme. Hope and joy were reinstated in my
+bosom, and I hasted to Thetford's counting-house.</p>
+
+<p>"He received me with an air of gloomy dissatisfaction. I accounted for
+his sadness by supposing him averse to communicate information which was
+less favourable than our wishes had dictated. He confirmed, with visible
+reluctance, the news of her capture. He had just received letters from
+his brother, acquainting him with all particulars, and containing the
+official documents of this transaction.</p>
+
+<p>"This had no tendency to damp my satisfaction, and I proceeded to peruse
+with eagerness the papers which he put into my hand. I had not proceeded
+far, when my joyous hopes vanished. Two French mulattoes had, after much
+solicitation, and the most solemn promises to carry with them no
+articles which the laws of war decree to be contraband, obtained a
+passage in the vessel. She was speedily encountered by a privateer, by
+whom every receptacle was ransacked. In a chest, belonging to the
+Frenchmen, and which they had affirmed to contain nothing but their
+clothes, were found two sabres, and other accoutrements of an officer of
+cavalry. Under this pretence, the vessel was captured and condemned, and
+this was a cause of forfeiture which had not been provided against in
+the contract of insurance.</p>
+
+<p>"By this untoward event my hopes were irreparably blasted. The utmost
+efforts were demanded to conceal my thoughts from my companion. The
+anguish that preyed upon my heart was endeavoured to be masked by looks
+of indifference. I pretended to have been previously informed by the
+messenger not only of the capture, but of the cause that led to it, and
+forbore to expatiate upon my loss, or to execrate the authors of my
+disappointment. My mind, however, was the theatre of discord and agony,
+and I waited with impatience for an opportunity to leave him.</p>
+
+<p>"For want of other topics, I asked by whom this information had been
+brought. He answered, that the bearer was Captain Amos Watson, whose
+vessel had been forfeited, at the same time, under a different pretence.
+He added that, my name being mentioned accidentally to Watson, the
+latter had betrayed marks of great surprise, and been very earnest in
+his inquiries respecting my situation. Having obtained what knowledge
+Thetford was able to communicate, the captain had departed, avowing a
+former acquaintance with me, and declaring his intention of paying me a
+visit.</p>
+
+<p>"These words operated on my frame like lightning. All within me was
+tumult and terror, and I rushed precipitately out of the house. I went
+forward with unequal steps, and at random. Some instinct led me into the
+fields, and I was not apprized of the direction of my steps, till,
+looking up, I found myself upon the shore of Schuylkill.</p>
+
+<p>"Thus was I, a second time, overborne by hopeless and incurable evils.
+An interval of motley feelings, of specious artifice and contemptible
+imposture, had elapsed since my meeting with the stranger at Wilmington.
+Then my forlorn state had led me to the brink of suicide. A brief and
+feverish respite had been afforded me, but now was I transported to the
+verge of the same abyss.</p>
+
+<p>"Amos Watson was the brother of the angel whom I had degraded and
+destroyed. What but fiery indignation and unappeasable vengeance could
+lead him into my presence? With what heart could I listen to his
+invectives? How could I endure to look upon the face of one whom I had
+loaded with such atrocious and intolerable injuries?</p>
+
+<p>"I was acquainted with his loftiness of mind; his detestation of
+injustice, and the whirlwind passions that ingratitude and villany like
+mine were qualified to awaken in his bosom. I dreaded not his violence.
+The death that he might be prompted to inflict was no object of
+aversion. It was poverty and disgrace, the detection of my crimes, the
+looks and voice of malediction and upbraiding, from which my cowardice
+shrunk.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should I live? I must vanish from that stage which I had lately
+trodden. My flight must be instant and precipitate. To be a fugitive
+from exasperated creditors, and from the industrious revenge of Watson,
+was an easy undertaking; but whither could I fly, where I should not be
+pursued by the phantoms of remorse, by the dread of hourly detection, by
+the necessities of hunger and thirst? In what scene should I be exempt
+from servitude and drudgery? Was my existence embellished with
+enjoyments that would justify my holding it, encumbered with hardships
+and immersed in obscurity?</p>
+
+<p>"There was no room for hesitation. To rush into the stream before me,
+and put an end at once to my life and the miseries inseparably linked
+with it, was the only proceeding which fate had left to my choice. My
+muscles were already exerted for this end, when the helpless condition
+of Clemenza was remembered. What provision could I make against the
+evils that threatened her? Should I leave her utterly forlorn and
+friendless? Mrs. Wentworth's temper was forgiving and compassionate.
+Adversity had taught her to participate and her wealth enabled her to
+relieve distress. Who was there by whom such powerful claims to succour
+and protection could be urged as by this desolate girl? Might I not
+state her situation in a letter to this lady, and urge irresistible
+pleas for the extension of her kindness to this object?</p>
+
+<p>"These thoughts made me suspend my steps. I determined to seek my
+habitation once more, and, having written and deposited this letter, to
+return to the execution of my fatal purpose. I had scarcely reached my
+own door, when some one approached along the pavement. The form, at
+first, was undistinguishable, but, by coming, at length, within the
+illumination of a lamp, it was perfectly recognised.</p>
+
+<p>"To avoid this detested interview was now impossible. Watson approached
+and accosted me. In this conflict of tumultuous feelings I was still
+able to maintain an air of intrepidity. His demeanour was that of a man
+who struggles with his rage. His accents were hurried, and scarcely
+articulate. 'I have ten words to say to you,' said he; 'lead into the
+house, and to some private room. My business with you will be despatched
+in a breath.'</p>
+
+<p>"I made him no answer, but led the way into my house, and to my study.
+On entering this room, I put the light upon the table, and, turning to
+my visitant, prepared silently to hear what he had to unfold. He struck
+his clenched hand against the table with violence. His motion was of
+that tempestuous kind as to overwhelm the power of utterance, and found
+it easier to vent itself in gesticulations than in words. At length he
+exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'It is well. Now has the hour, so long and so impatiently demanded by
+my vengeance, arrived. Welbeck! Would that my first words could strike
+thee dead! They will so, if thou hast any title to the name of man.</p>
+
+<p>"'My sister is dead; dead of anguish and a broken heart. Remote from her
+friends; in a hovel; the abode of indigence and misery.</p>
+
+<p>"'Her husband is no more. He returned after a long absence, a tedious
+navigation, and vicissitudes of hardships. He flew to the bosom of his
+love; of his wife. She was gone; lost to him, and to virtue. In a fit of
+desperation, he retired to his chamber and despatched himself. This is
+the instrument with which the deed was performed.'</p>
+
+<p>"Saying this, Watson took a pistol from his pocket, and held it to my
+head. I lifted not my hand to turn aside the weapon. I did not shudder
+at the spectacle, or shrink from his approaching hand. With fingers
+clasped together, and eyes fixed upon the floor, I waited till his fury
+was exhausted. He continued:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'All passed in a few hours. The elopement of his daughter,&mdash;the death
+of his son. O my father! Most loved and most venerable of men! To see
+thee changed into a maniac! Haggard and wild! Deterred from outrage on
+thyself and those around thee by fetters and stripes! What was it that
+saved me from a like fate? To view this hideous ruin, and to think by
+whom it was occasioned! Yet not to become frantic like thee, my father;
+or not destroy myself like thee, my brother! My friend!&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'No. For this hour was I reserved; to avenge your wrongs and mine in
+the blood of this ungrateful villain.'</p>
+
+<p>"'There,' continued he, producing a second pistol, and tendering it to
+me,&mdash;'there is thy defence. Take we opposite sides of this table, and
+fire at the same instant.'</p>
+
+<p>"During this address I was motionless. He tendered the pistol, but I
+unclasped not my hands to receive it.</p>
+
+<p>"'Why do you hesitate?' resumed he. 'Let the chance between us be equal,
+or fire you first.'</p>
+
+<p>"'No,' said I, 'I am ready to die by your hand. I wish it. It will
+preclude the necessity of performing the office for myself. I have
+injured you, and merit all that your vengeance can inflict. I know your
+nature too well to believe that my death will be perfect expiation. When
+the gust of indignation is past, the remembrance of your deed will only
+add to your sum of misery; yet I do not love you well enough to wish
+that you would forbear. I desire to die, and to die by another's hand
+rather than my own.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Coward!' exclaimed Watson, with augmented vehemence, 'you know me too
+well to believe me capable of assassination. Vile subterfuge!
+Contemptible plea! Take the pistol and defend yourself. You want not the
+power or the will; but, knowing that I spurn at murder, you think your
+safety will be found in passiveness. Your refusal will avail you little.
+Your fame, if not your life, is at my mercy. If you falter now, I will
+allow you to live, but only till I have stabbed your reputation.'</p>
+
+<p>"I now fixed my eyes steadfastly upon him, and spoke:&mdash;'How much a
+stranger are you to the feelings of Welbeck! How poor a judge of his
+cowardice! I take your pistol, and consent to your conditions.'</p>
+
+<p>"We took opposite sides of the table. 'Are you ready?' he cried; 'fire!'</p>
+
+<p>"Both triggers were drawn at the same instant. Both pistols were
+discharged. Mine was negligently raised. Such is the untoward chance
+that presides over human affairs; such is the malignant destiny by which
+my steps have ever been pursued. The bullet whistled harmlessly by
+me,&mdash;levelled by an eye that never before failed, and with so small an
+interval between us. I escaped, but my blind and random shot took place
+in his heart.</p>
+
+<p>"There is the fruit of this disastrous meeting. The catalogue of death
+is thus completed. Thou sleepest, Watson! Thy sister is at rest, and so
+art thou. Thy vows of vengeance are at an end. It was not reserved for
+thee to be thy own and thy sister's avenger. Welbeck's measure of
+transgressions is now full, and his own hand must execute the justice
+that is due to him."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Such was Welbeck's tale, listened to by me with an eagerness in which
+every faculty was absorbed. How adverse to my dreams were the incidents
+that had just been related! The curtain was lifted, and a scene of guilt
+and ignominy disclosed where my rash and inexperienced youth had
+suspected nothing but loftiness and magnanimity.</p>
+
+<p>For a while the wondrousness of this tale kept me from contemplating the
+consequences that awaited us. My unfledged fancy had not hitherto soared
+to this pitch. All was astounding by its novelty, or terrific by its
+horror. The very scene of these offences partook, to my rustic
+apprehension, of fairy splendour and magical abruptness. My
+understanding was bemazed, and my senses were taught to distrust their
+own testimony.</p>
+
+<p>From this musing state I was recalled by my companion, who said to me,
+in solemn accents, "Mervyn! I have but two requests to make. Assist me
+to bury these remains, and then accompany me across the river. I have no
+power to compel your silence on the acts that you have witnessed. I have
+meditated to benefit as well as to injure you; but I do not desire that
+your demeanour should conform to any other standard than justice. You
+have promised, and to that promise I trust.</p>
+
+<p>"If you choose to fly from this scene, to withdraw yourself from what
+you may conceive to be a theatre of guilt or peril, the avenues are
+open; retire unmolested and in silence. If you have a manlike spirit, if
+you are grateful for the benefits bestowed upon you, if your discernment
+enables you to see that compliance with my request will entangle you in
+no guilt and betray you into no danger, stay, and aid me in hiding these
+remains from human scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p>"Watson is beyond the reach of further injury. I never intended him
+harm, though I have torn from him his sister and friend, and have
+brought his life to an untimely close. To provide him a grave is a duty
+that I owe to the dead and to the living. I shall quickly place myself
+beyond the reach of inquisitors and judges, but would willingly rescue
+from molestation or suspicion those whom I shall leave behind."</p>
+
+<p>What would have been the fruit of deliberation, if I had had the time or
+power to deliberate, I know not. My thoughts flowed with tumult and
+rapidity. To shut this spectacle from my view was the first impulse; but
+to desert this man, in a time of so much need, appeared a thankless and
+dastardly deportment. To remain where I was, to conform implicitly to
+his direction, required no effort. Some fear was connected with his
+presence, and with that of the dead; but, in the tremulous confusion of
+my present thoughts, solitude would conjure up a thousand phantoms.</p>
+
+<p>I made no preparation to depart. I did not verbally assent to his
+proposal. He interpreted my silence into acquiescence. He wrapped the
+body in the carpet, and then, lifting one end, cast at me a look which
+indicated his expectations that I would aid him in lifting this ghastly
+burden. During this process, the silence was unbroken.</p>
+
+<p>I knew not whither he intended to convey the corpse. He had talked of
+burial, but no receptacle had been provided. How far safety might depend
+upon his conduct in this particular, I was unable to estimate. I was in
+too heartless a mood to utter my doubts. I followed his example in
+raising the corpse from the floor.</p>
+
+<p>He led the way into the passage and down-stairs. Having reached the
+first floor, he unbolted a door which led into the cellar. The stairs
+and passage were illuminated by lamps that hung from the ceiling and
+were accustomed to burn during the night. Now, however, we were entering
+darksome and murky recesses.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<p>"Return," said he, in a tone of command, "and fetch the light. I will
+wait for you."</p>
+
+<p>I obeyed. As I returned with the light, a suspicion stole into my mind,
+that Welbeck had taken this opportunity to fly; and that, on regaining
+the foot of the stairs, I should find the spot deserted by all but the
+dead. My blood was chilled by this image. The momentary resolution it
+inspired was to follow the example of the fugitive, and leave the
+persons whom the ensuing day might convene on this spot, to form their
+own conjectures as to the cause of this catastrophe.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, I cast anxious eyes forward. Welbeck was discovered in the
+same place and posture in which he had been left. Lifting the corpse and
+its shroud in his arms, he directed me to follow him. The vaults beneath
+were lofty and spacious. He passed from one to the other till we reached
+a small and remote cell. Here he cast his burden on the ground. In the
+fall, the face of Watson chanced to be disengaged from its covering. Its
+closed eyes and sunken muscles were rendered in a tenfold degree ghastly
+and rueful by the feeble light which the candle shed upon it.</p>
+
+<p>This object did not escape the attention of Welbeck. He leaned against
+the wall, and, folding his arms, resigned himself to reverie. He gazed
+upon the countenance of Watson, but his looks denoted his attention to
+be elsewhere employed.</p>
+
+<p>As to me, my state will not be easily described. My eye roved fearfully
+from one object to another. By turns it was fixed upon the murdered
+person and the murderer. The narrow cell in which we stood, its
+rudely-fashioned walls and arches, destitute of communication with the
+external air, and its palpable dark scarcely penetrated by the rays of a
+solitary candle, added to the silence which was deep and universal,
+produced an impression on my fancy which no time will obliterate.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps my imagination was distempered by terror. The incident which I
+am going to relate may appear to have existed only in my fancy. Be that
+as it may, I experienced all the effects which the fullest belief is
+adapted to produce. Glancing vaguely at the countenance of Watson, my
+attention was arrested by a convulsive motion in the eyelids. This
+motion increased, till at length the eyes opened, and a glance, languid
+but wild, was thrown around. Instantly they closed, and the tremulous
+appearance vanished.</p>
+
+<p>I started from my place and was on the point of uttering some
+involuntary exclamation. At the same moment, Welbeck seemed to recover
+from his reverie.</p>
+
+<p>"How is this?" said he. "Why do we linger here? Every moment is
+precious. We cannot dig for him a grave with our hands. Wait here, while
+I go in search of a spade."</p>
+
+<p>Saying this, he snatched the candle from my hand, and hasted away. My
+eye followed the light as its gleams shifted their place upon the walls
+and ceilings, and, gradually vanishing, gave place to unrespited gloom.
+This proceeding was so unexpected and abrupt, that I had no time to
+remonstrate against it. Before I retrieved the power of reflection, the
+light had disappeared and the footsteps were no longer to be heard.</p>
+
+<p>I was not, on ordinary occasions, destitute of equanimity; but perhaps
+the imagination of man is naturally abhorrent of death, until tutored
+into indifference by habit. Every circumstance combined to fill me with
+shuddering and panic. For a while, I was enabled to endure my situation
+by the exertions of my reason. That the lifeless remains of a human
+being are powerless to injure or benefit, I was thoroughly persuaded. I
+summoned this belief to my aid, and was able, if not to subdue, yet to
+curb, my fears. I listened to catch the sound of the returning footsteps
+of Welbeck, and hoped that every new moment would terminate my solitude.</p>
+
+<p>No signal of his coming was afforded. At length it occurred to me that
+Welbeck had gone with no intention to return; that his malice had
+seduced me hither to encounter the consequences of his deed. He had fled
+and barred every door behind him. This suspicion may well be supposed to
+overpower my courage, and to call forth desperate efforts for my
+deliverance.</p>
+
+<p>I extended my hands and went forward. I had been too little attentive to
+the situation and direction of these vaults and passages, to go forward
+with undeviating accuracy. My fears likewise tended to confuse my
+perceptions and bewilder my steps. Notwithstanding the danger of
+encountering obstructions, I rushed towards the entrance with
+precipitation.</p>
+
+<p>My temerity was quickly punished. In a moment, I was repelled by a
+jutting angle of the wall, with such force that I staggered backward and
+fell. The blow was stunning, and, when I recovered my senses, I
+perceived that a torrent of blood was gushing from my nostrils. My
+clothes were moistened with this unwelcome effusion, and I could not but
+reflect on the hazard which I should incur by being detected in this
+recess, covered by these accusing stains.</p>
+
+<p>This reflection once more set me on my feet and incited my exertions. I
+now proceeded with greater wariness and caution. I had lost all distinct
+notions of my way. My motions were at random. All my labour was to shun
+obstructions and to advance whenever the vacuity would permit. By this
+means, the entrance was at length found, and, after various efforts, I
+arrived, beyond my hopes, at the foot of the staircase.</p>
+
+<p>I ascended, but quickly encountered an insuperable impediment. The door
+at the stair-head was closed and barred. My utmost strength was exerted
+in vain, to break the lock or the hinges. Thus were my direst
+apprehensions fulfilled. Welbeck had left me to sustain the charge of
+murder; to obviate suspicions the most atrocious and plausible that the
+course of human events is capable of producing.</p>
+
+<p>Here I must remain till the morrow; till some one can be made to
+overhear my calls and come to my deliverance. What effects will my
+appearance produce on the spectator? Terrified by phantoms and stained
+with blood, shall I not exhibit the tokens of a maniac as well as an
+assassin?</p>
+
+<p>The corpse of Watson will quickly be discovered. If, previous to this
+disclosure, I should change my blood-stained garments and withdraw into
+the country, shall I not be pursued by the most vehement suspicions,
+and, perhaps, hunted to my obscurest retreat by the ministers of
+justice? I am innocent; but my tale, however circumstantial or true,
+will scarcely suffice for my vindication. My flight will be construed
+into a proof of incontestable guilt.</p>
+
+<p>While harassed by these thoughts, my attention was attracted by a faint
+gleam cast upon the bottom of the staircase. It grew stronger, hovered
+for a moment in my sight, and then disappeared. That it proceeded from a
+lamp or candle, borne by some one along the passages, was no untenable
+opinion, but was far less probable than that the effulgence was
+meteorous. I confided in the latter supposition, and fortified myself
+anew against the dread of preternatural dangers. My thoughts reverted to
+the contemplation of the hazards and suspicions which flowed from my
+continuance in this spot.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of my perturbed musing, my attention was again recalled by
+an illumination like the former. Instead of hovering and vanishing, it
+was permanent. No ray could be more feeble; but the tangible obscurity
+to which it succeeded rendered it conspicuous as an electrical flash.
+For a while I eyed it without moving from my place, and in momentary
+expectation of its disappearance.</p>
+
+<p>Remarking its stability, the propriety of scrutinizing it more nearly,
+and of ascertaining the source whence it flowed, was at length
+suggested. Hope, as well as curiosity, was the parent of my conduct.
+Though utterly at a loss to assign the cause of this appearance, I was
+willing to believe some connection between that cause and the means of
+my deliverance.</p>
+
+<p>I had scarcely formed the resolution of descending the stair, when my
+hope was extinguished by the recollection that the cellar had narrow and
+grated windows, through which light from the street might possibly have
+found access. A second recollection supplanted this belief, for in my
+way to this staircase my attention would have been solicited, and my
+steps, in some degree, been guided, by light coming through these
+avenues.</p>
+
+<p>Having returned to the bottom of the stair, I perceived every part of
+the long-drawn passage illuminated. I threw a glance forward to the
+quarter whence the rays seemed to proceed, and beheld, at a considerable
+distance, Welbeck in the cell which I had left, turning up the earth
+with a spade.</p>
+
+<p>After a pause of astonishment, the nature of the error which I had
+committed rushed upon my apprehension. I now perceived that the darkness
+had misled me to a different staircase from that which I had originally
+descended. It was apparent that Welbeck intended me no evil, but had
+really gone in search of the instrument which he had mentioned.</p>
+
+<p>This discovery overwhelmed me with contrition and shame, though it freed
+me from the terrors of imprisonment and accusation. To return to the
+cell which I had left, and where Welbeck was employed in his disastrous
+office, was the expedient which regard to my own safety unavoidably
+suggested.</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck paused, at my approach, and betrayed a momentary consternation
+at the sight of my ensanguined visage. The blood, by some inexplicable
+process of nature, perhaps by the counteracting influence of fear, had
+quickly ceased to flow. Whether the cause of my evasion, and of my flux
+of blood, was guessed, or whether his attention was withdrawn, by more
+momentous objects, from my condition, he proceeded in his task in
+silence.</p>
+
+<p>A shallow bed and a slight covering of clay were provided for the
+hapless Watson. Welbeck's movements were hurried and tremulous. His
+countenance betokened a mind engrossed by a single purpose, in some
+degree foreign to the scene before him. An intensity and fixedness of
+features were conspicuous, that led me to suspect the subversion of his
+reason.</p>
+
+<p>Having finished the task, he threw aside his implement. He then put into
+my hand a pocket-book, saying it belonged to Watson, and might contain
+something serviceable to the living. I might make what use of it I
+thought proper. He then remounted the stairs, and, placing the candle on
+a table in the hall, opened the principal door and went forth. I was
+driven, by a sort of mechanical impulse, in his footsteps. I followed
+him because it was agreeable to him and because I knew not whither else
+to direct my steps.</p>
+
+<p>The streets were desolate and silent. The watchman's call, remotely and
+faintly heard, added to the general solemnity. I followed my companion
+in a state of mind not easily described. I had no spirit even to inquire
+whither he was going. It was not till we arrived at the water's edge
+that I persuaded myself to break silence. I then began to reflect on the
+degree in which his present schemes might endanger Welbeck or myself. I
+had acted long enough a servile and mechanical part; and been guided by
+blind and foreign impulses. It was time to lay aside my fetters, and
+demand to know whither the path tended in which I was importuned to
+walk.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile I found myself entangled among boats and shipping. I am unable
+to describe the spot by any indisputable tokens. I know merely that it
+was the termination of one of the principal streets. Here Welbeck
+selected a boat and prepared to enter it. For a moment I hesitated to
+comply with his apparent invitation. I stammered out an
+interrogation:&mdash;"Why is this? Why should we cross the river? What
+service can I do for you? I ought to know the purpose of my voyage
+before I enter it."</p>
+
+<p>He checked himself and surveyed me for a minute in silence. "What do you
+fear?" said he. "Have I not explained my wishes? Merely cross the river
+with me, for I cannot navigate a boat by myself. Is there any thing
+arduous or mysterious in this undertaking? we part on the Jersey shore,
+and I shall leave you to your destiny. All I shall ask from you will be
+silence, and to hide from mankind what you know concerning me."</p>
+
+<p>He now entered the boat and urged me to follow his example. I
+reluctantly complied, I perceived that the boat contained but one oar,
+and that was a small one. He seemed startled and thrown into great
+perplexity by this discovery. "It will be impossible," said he, in a
+tone of panic and vexation, "to procure another at this hour: what is to
+be done?"</p>
+
+<p>This impediment was by no means insuperable. I had sinewy arms, and knew
+well how to use an oar for the double purpose of oar and rudder. I took
+my station at the stern, and quickly extricated the boat from its
+neighbours and from the wharves. I was wholly unacquainted with the
+river. The bar by which it was encumbered I knew to exist, but in what
+direction and to what extent it existed, and how it might be avoided in
+the present state of the tide, I knew not. It was probable, therefore,
+unknowing as I was of the proper track, that our boat would speedily
+have grounded.</p>
+
+<p>My attention, meanwhile, was fixed upon the oar. My companion sat at the
+prow, and was in a considerable degree unnoticed. I cast my eyes
+occasionally at the scene which I had left. Its novelty, joined with the
+incidents of my condition, threw me into a state of suspense and wonder
+which frequently slackened my hand and left the vessel to be driven by
+the downward current. Lights were sparingly seen, and these were
+perpetually fluctuating, as masts, yards, and hulls were interposed, and
+passed before them. In proportion as we receded from the shore, the
+clamours seemed to multiply, and the suggestion that the city was
+involved in confusion and uproar did not easily give way to maturer
+thoughts. <i>Twelve</i> was the hour cried, and this ascended at once from
+all quarters, and was mingled with the baying of dogs, so as to produce
+trepidation and alarm.</p>
+
+<p>From this state of magnificent and awful feeling I was suddenly called
+by the conduct of Welbeck. We had scarcely moved two hundred yards from
+the shore, when he plunged into the water. The first conception was that
+some implement or part of the boat had fallen over-board. I looked back
+and perceived that his seat was vacant. In my first astonishment I
+loosened my hold of the oar, and it floated away. The surface was smooth
+as glass, and the eddy occasioned by his sinking was scarcely visible. I
+had not time to determine whether this was designed or accidental. Its
+suddenness deprived me of the power to exert myself for his succour. I
+wildly gazed around me, in hopes of seeing him rise. After some time my
+attention was drawn, by the sound of agitation in the water, to a
+considerable distance.</p>
+
+<p>It was too dark for any thing to be distinctly seen. There was no cry
+for help. The noise was like that of one vigorously struggling for a
+moment, and then sinking to the bottom. I listened with painful
+eagerness, but was unable to distinguish a third signal. He sunk to rise
+no more.</p>
+
+<p>I was for a time inattentive to my own situation. The dreadfulness and
+unexpectedness of this catastrophe occupied me wholly. The quick motion
+of the lights upon the shore showed me that I was borne rapidly along
+with the tide. How to help myself, how to impede my course or to regain
+either shore, since I had lost the oar, I was unable to tell. I was no
+less at a loss to conjecture whither the current, if suffered to control
+my vehicle, would finally transport me.</p>
+
+<p>The disappearance of lights and buildings, and the diminution of the
+noises, acquainted me that I had passed the town. It was impossible
+longer to hesitate. The shore was to be regained by one way only, which
+was swimming. To any exploit of this kind, my strength and my skill were
+adequate. I threw away my loose gown; put the pocket-book of the
+unfortunate Watson in my mouth, to preserve it from being injured by
+moisture; and committed myself to the stream.</p>
+
+<p>I landed in a spot incommoded with mud and reeds. I sunk knee-deep into
+the former, and was exhausted by the fatigue of extricating myself. At
+length I recovered firm ground, and threw myself on the turf to repair
+my wasted strength, and to reflect on the measures which my future
+welfare enjoined me to pursue.</p>
+
+<p>What condition was ever parallel to mine? The transactions of the last
+three days resembled the monstrous creations of delirium. They were
+painted with vivid hues on my memory; but so rapid and incongruous were
+these transitions, that I almost denied belief to their reality. They
+exercised a bewildering and stupefying influence on my mind, from which
+the meditations of an hour were scarcely sufficient to relieve me.
+Gradually I recovered the power of arranging my ideas and forming
+conclusions.</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck was dead. His property was swallowed up, and his creditors left
+to wonder at his disappearance. All that was left was the furniture of
+his house, to which Mrs. Wentworth would lay claim, in discharge of the
+unpaid rent. What now was the destiny that awaited the lost and
+friendless Mademoiselle Lodi? Where was she concealed? Welbeck had
+dropped no intimation by which I might be led to suspect the place of
+her abode. If my power, in other respects, could have contributed aught
+to her relief, my ignorance of her asylum had utterly disabled me.</p>
+
+<p>But what of the murdered person? He had suddenly vanished from the face
+of the earth. His fate and the place of his interment would probably be
+suspected and ascertained. Was I sure to escape from the consequences of
+this deed? Watson had relatives and friends. What influence on their
+state and happiness his untimely and mysterious fate would possess, it
+was obvious to inquire. This idea led me to the recollection of his
+pocket-book. Some papers might be there explanatory of his situation.</p>
+
+<p>I resumed my feet. I knew not where to direct my steps. I was dropping
+with wet, and shivering with the cold. I was destitute of habitation and
+friend. I had neither money nor any valuable thing in my possession. I
+moved forward mechanically and at random. Where I landed was at no great
+distance from the verge of the town. In a short time I discovered the
+glimmering of a distant lamp. To this I directed my steps, and here I
+paused to examine the contents of the pocket-book.</p>
+
+<p>I found three bank-notes, each of fifty dollars, enclosed in a piece of
+blank paper. Besides these were three letters, apparently written by his
+wife, and dated at Baltimore. They were brief, but composed in a strain
+of great tenderness, and containing affecting allusions to their child.
+I could gather, from their date and tenor, that they were received
+during his absence on his recent voyage; that her condition was
+considerably necessitous, and surrounded by wants which their prolonged
+separation had increased.</p>
+
+<p>The fourth letter was open, and seemed to have been very lately written.
+It was directed to Mrs. Mary Watson. He informed her in it of his
+arrival at Philadelphia from St. Domingo; of the loss of his ship and
+cargo; and of his intention to hasten home with all possible expedition.
+He told her that all was lost but one hundred and fifty dollars, the
+greater part of which he should bring with him, to relieve her more
+pressing wants. The letter was signed, and folded, and superscribed, but
+unsealed.</p>
+
+<p>A little consideration showed me in what manner it became me, on this
+occasion, to demean myself. I put the bank-notes in the letter, and
+sealed it with a wafer; a few of which were found in the pocket-book. I
+hesitated some time whether I should add any thing to the information
+which the letter contained, by means of a pencil which offered itself to
+my view; but I concluded to forbear. I could select no suitable terms in
+which to communicate the mournful truth. I resolved to deposit this
+letter at the post-office, where I knew letters could be left at all
+hours.</p>
+
+<p>My reflections at length reverted to my own condition. What was the fate
+reserved for me? How far my safety might be affected by remaining in the
+city, in consequence of the disappearance of Welbeck, and my known
+connection with the fugitive, it was impossible to foresee. My fears
+readily suggested innumerable embarrassments and inconveniences which
+would flow from this source. Besides, on what pretence should I remain?
+To whom could I apply for protection or employment? All avenues, even to
+subsistence, were shut against me. The country was my sole asylum. Here,
+in exchange for my labour, I could at least purchase food, safety, and
+repose. But, if my choice pointed to the country, there was no reason
+for a moment's delay. It would be prudent to regain the fields, and be
+far from this detested city before the rising of the sun.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile I was chilled and chafed by the clothes that I wore. To change
+them for others was absolutely necessary to my ease. The clothes which I
+wore were not my own, and were extremely unsuitable to my new condition.
+My rustic and homely garb was deposited in my chamber at Welbeck's.
+These thoughts suggested the design of returning thither. I considered
+that, probably, the servants had not been alarmed. That the door was
+unfastened, and the house was accessible. It would be easy to enter and
+retire without notice; and this, not without some waverings and
+misgivings, I presently determined to do.</p>
+
+<p>Having deposited my letter at the office, I proceeded to my late abode.
+I approached, and lifted the latch with caution. There were no
+appearances of any one having been disturbed. I procured a light in the
+kitchen, and hied softly and with dubious footsteps to my chamber. There
+I disrobed, and resumed my check shirt, and trowsers, and fustian coat.
+This change being accomplished, nothing remained but that I should
+strike into the country with the utmost expedition.</p>
+
+<p>In a momentary review which I took of the past, the design for which
+Welbeck professed to have originally detained me in his service occurred
+to my mind. I knew the danger of reasoning loosely on the subject of
+property. To any trinket or piece of furniture in this house I did not
+allow myself to question the right of Mrs. Wentworth; a right accruing
+to her in consequence of Welbeck's failure in the payment of his rent;
+but there was one thing which I felt an irresistible desire, and no
+scruples which should forbid me, to possess, and that was, the
+manuscript to which Welbeck had alluded, as having been written by the
+deceased Lodi.</p>
+
+<p>I was well instructed in Latin, and knew the Tuscan language to be
+nearly akin to it. I despaired not of being at some time able to
+cultivate this language, and believed that the possession of this
+manuscript might essentially contribute to this end, as well as to many
+others equally beneficial. It was easy to conjecture that the volume was
+to be found among his printed books, and it was scarcely less easy to
+ascertain the truth of this conjecture. I entered, not without tremulous
+sensations, into the apartment which had been the scene of the
+disastrous interview between Watson and Welbeck. At every step I almost
+dreaded to behold the spectre of the former rise before me.</p>
+
+<p>Numerous and splendid volumes were arranged on mahogany shelves, and
+screened by doors of glass. I ran swiftly over their names, and was at
+length so fortunate as to light upon the book of which I was in search.
+I immediately secured it, and, leaving the candle extinguished on a
+table in the parlour, I once more issued forth into the street. With
+light steps and palpitating heart I turned my face towards the country.
+My necessitous condition I believed would justify me in passing without
+payment the Schuylkill bridge, and the eastern sky began to brighten
+with the dawn of morning not till I had gained the distance of nine
+miles from the city.</p>
+
+<p>Such is the tale which I proposed to relate to you. Such are the
+memorable incidents of five days of my life; from which I have gathered
+more instruction than from the whole tissue of my previous existence.
+Such are the particulars of my knowledge respecting the crimes and
+misfortunes of Welbeck; which the insinuations of Wortley, and my desire
+to retain your good opinion, have induced me to unfold.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XIII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Mervyn's pause allowed his auditors to reflect on the particulars of his
+narration, and to compare them with the facts with a knowledge of which
+their own observation had supplied them. My profession introduced me to
+the friendship of Mrs. Wentworth, by whom, after the disappearance of
+Welbeck, many circumstances respecting him had been mentioned. She
+particularly dwelt upon the deportment and appearance of this youth, at
+the single interview which took place between them, and her
+representations were perfectly conformable to those which Mervyn had
+himself delivered.</p>
+
+<p>Previously to this interview, Welbeck had insinuated to her that a
+recent event had put him in possession of the truth respecting the
+destiny of Clavering. A kinsman of his had arrived from Portugal, by
+whom this intelligence had been brought. He dexterously eluded her
+entreaties to be furnished with minuter information, or to introduce
+this kinsman to her acquaintance. As soon as Mervyn was ushered into her
+presence, she suspected him to be the person to whom Welbeck had
+alluded, and this suspicion his conversation had confirmed. She was at a
+loss to comprehend the reasons of the silence which he so pertinaciously
+maintained.</p>
+
+<p>Her uneasiness, however, prompted her to renew her solicitations. On the
+day subsequent to the catastrophe related by Mervyn, she sent a
+messenger to Welbeck, with a request to see him. Gabriel, the black
+servant, informed the messenger that his master had gone into the
+country for a week. At the end of the week, a messenger was again
+despatched with the same errand. He called and knocked, but no one
+answered his signals. He examined the entrance by the kitchen, but
+every avenue was closed. It appeared that the house was wholly deserted.</p>
+
+<p>These appearances naturally gave birth to curiosity and suspicion. The
+house was repeatedly examined, but the solitude and silence within
+continued the same. The creditors of Welbeck were alarmed by these
+appearances, and their claims to the property remaining in the house
+were precluded by Mrs. Wentworth, who, as owner of the mansion, was
+legally entitled to the furniture, in place of the rent which Welbeck
+had suffered to accumulate.</p>
+
+<p>On examining the dwelling, all that was valuable and portable,
+particularly linen and plate, was removed. The remainder was distrained,
+but the tumults of pestilence succeeded and hindered it from being sold.
+Things were allowed to continue in their former situation, and the house
+was carefully secured. We had no leisure to form conjectures on the
+causes of this desertion. An explanation was afforded us by the
+narrative of this youth. It is probable that the servants, finding their
+master's absence continue, had pillaged the house and fled.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, though our curiosity with regard to Welbeck was appeased, it
+was obvious to inquire by what series of inducements and events Mervyn
+was reconducted to the city and led to the spot where I first met with
+him. We intimated our wishes in this respect, and our young friend
+readily consented to take up the thread of his story and bring it down
+to the point that was desired. For this purpose, the ensuing evening was
+selected. Having, at an early hour, shut ourselves up from all intruders
+and visitors, he continued as follows.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>I have mentioned that, by sunrise, I had gained the distance of many
+miles from the city. My purpose was to stop at the first farm-house, and
+seek employment as a day-labourer. The first person whom I observed was
+a man of placid mien and plain garb. Habitual benevolence was apparent
+amidst the wrinkles of age. He was traversing his buckwheat-field, and
+measuring, as it seemed, the harvest that was now nearly ripe.</p>
+
+<p>I accosted him with diffidence, and explained my wishes. He listened to
+my tale with complacency, inquired into my name and family, and into my
+qualifications for the office to which I aspired. My answers were candid
+and full.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," said he, "I believe thou and I can make a bargain. We will, at
+least, try each other for a week or two. If it does not suit our mutual
+convenience, we can change. The morning is damp and cool, and thy plight
+does not appear the most comfortable that can be imagined. Come to the
+house and eat some breakfast."</p>
+
+<p>The behaviour of this good man filled me with gratitude and joy.
+Methought I could embrace him as a father, and entrance into his house
+appeared like return to a long-lost and much-loved home. My desolate and
+lonely condition appeared to be changed for paternal regards and the
+tenderness of friendship.</p>
+
+<p>These emotions were confirmed and heightened by every object that
+presented itself under this roof. The family consisted of Mrs. Hadwin,
+two simple and affectionate girls, his daughters, and servants. The
+manners of this family, quiet, artless, and cordial, the occupations
+allotted me, the land by which the dwelling was surrounded, its pure
+airs, romantic walks, and exhaustless fertility, constituted a powerful
+contrast to the scenes which I had left behind, and were congenial with
+every dictate of my understanding and every sentiment that glowed in my
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>My youth, mental cultivation, and circumspect deportment, entitled me to
+deference and confidence. Each hour confirmed me in the good opinion of
+Mr. Hadwin, and in the affections of his daughters. In the mind of my
+employer, the simplicity of the husbandman and the devotion of the
+Quaker were blended with humanity and intelligence. The sisters, Susan
+and Eliza, were unacquainted with calamity and vice through the medium
+of either observation or books. They were strangers to the benefits of
+an elaborate education, but they were endowed with curiosity and
+discernment, and had not suffered their slender means of instruction to
+remain unimproved.</p>
+
+<p>The sedateness of the elder formed an amusing contrast with the laughing
+eye and untamable vivacity of the younger; but they smiled and they
+wept in unison. They thought and acted in different but not discordant
+keys. On all momentous occasions, they reasoned and felt alike. In
+ordinary cases, they separated, as it were, into different tracks; but
+this diversity was productive not of jarring, but of harmony.</p>
+
+<p>A romantic and untutored disposition like mine may be supposed liable to
+strong impressions from perpetual converse with persons of their age and
+sex. The elder was soon discovered to have already disposed of her
+affections. The younger was free, and somewhat that is more easily
+conceived than named stole insensibly upon my heart. The images that
+haunted me at home and abroad, in her absence and her presence,
+gradually coalesced into one shape, and gave birth to an incessant train
+of latent palpitations and indefinable hopes. My days were little else
+than uninterrupted reveries, and night only called up phantoms more
+vivid and equally enchanting.</p>
+
+<p>The memorable incidents which had lately happened scarcely counterpoised
+my new sensations or diverted my contemplations from the present. My
+views were gradually led to rest upon futurity, and in that I quickly
+found cause of circumspection and dread. My present labours were light,
+and were sufficient for my subsistence in a single state; but wedlock
+was the parent of new wants and of new cares. Mr. Hadwin's possessions
+were adequate to his own frugal maintenance, but, divided between his
+children, would be too scanty for either. Besides, this division could
+only take place at his death, and that was an event whose speedy
+occurrence was neither desirable nor probable.</p>
+
+<p>Another obstacle was now remembered. Hadwin was the conscientious member
+of a sect which forbade the marriage of its votaries with those of a
+different communion. I had been trained in an opposite creed, and
+imagined it impossible that I should ever become a proselyte to
+Quakerism. It only remained for me to feign conversion, or to root out
+the opinions of my friend and win her consent to a secret marriage.
+Whether hypocrisy was eligible was no subject of deliberation. If the
+possession of all that ambition can conceive were added to the
+transports of union with Eliza Hadwin, and offered as the price of
+dissimulation, it would have been instantly rejected. My external goods
+were not abundant nor numerous, but the consciousness of rectitude was
+mine; and, in competition with this, the luxury of the heart and of the
+senses, the gratifications of boundless ambition and inexhaustible
+wealth, were contemptible and frivolous.</p>
+
+<p>The conquest of Eliza's errors was easy; but to introduce discord and
+sorrow into this family was an act of the utmost ingratitude and
+profligacy. It was only requisite for my understanding clearly to
+discern, to be convinced of the insuperability of this obstacle. It was
+manifest, therefore, that the point to which my wishes tended was placed
+beyond my reach.</p>
+
+<p>To foster my passion was to foster a disease destructive either of my
+integrity or my existence. It was indispensable to fix my thoughts upon
+a different object, and to debar myself even from her intercourse. To
+ponder on themes foreign to my darling image, and to seclude myself from
+her society, at hours which had usually been spent with her, were
+difficult tasks. The latter was the least practicable. I had to contend
+with eyes which alternately wondered at and upbraided me for my
+unkindness. She was wholly unaware of the nature of her own feelings,
+and this ignorance made her less scrupulous in the expression of her
+sentiments.</p>
+
+<p>Hitherto I had needed not employment beyond myself and my companions.
+Now my new motives made me eager to discover some means of controlling
+and beguiling my thoughts. In this state, the manuscript of Lodi
+occurred to me. In my way hither, I had resolved to make the study of
+the language of this book, and the translation of its contents into
+English, the business and solace of my leisure. Now this resolution was
+revived with new force.</p>
+
+<p>My project was perhaps singular. The ancient language of Italy possessed
+a strong affinity with the modern. My knowledge of the former was my
+only means of gaining the latter. I had no grammar or vocabulary to
+explain how far the meanings and inflections of Tuscan words varied
+from the Roman dialect. I was to ponder on each sentence and phrase; to
+select among different conjectures the most plausible, and to ascertain
+the true by patient and repeated scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p>This undertaking, fantastic and impracticable as it may seem, proved,
+upon experiment, to be within the compass of my powers. The detail of my
+progress would be curious and instructive. What impediments, in the
+attainment of a darling purpose, human ingenuity and patience are able
+to surmount; how much may be done by strenuous and solitary efforts; how
+the mind, unassisted, may draw forth the principles of inflection and
+arrangement; may profit by remote, analogous, and latent similitudes,
+would be forcibly illustrated by my example; but the theme, however
+attractive, must, for the present, be omitted.</p>
+
+<p>My progress was slow; but the perception of hourly improvement afforded
+me unspeakable pleasure. Having arrived near the last pages, I was able
+to pursue, with little interruption, the thread of an eloquent
+narration. The triumph of a leader of outlaws over the popular
+enthusiasm of the Milanese and the claims of neighbouring potentates was
+about to be depicted. The <i>Condottiero</i> Sforza had taken refuge from his
+enemies in a tomb, accidentally discovered amidst the ruins of a Roman
+fortress in the Apennines. He had sought this recess for the sake of
+concealment, but found in it a treasure by which he would be enabled to
+secure the wavering and venal faith of that crew of ruffians that
+followed his standard, provided he fell not into the hands of the
+enemies who were now in search of him.</p>
+
+<p>My tumultuous curiosity was suddenly checked by the following leaves
+being glued together at the edges. To dissever them without injury to
+the written spaces was by no means easy. I proceeded to the task, not
+without precipitation. The edges were torn away, and the leaves parted.</p>
+
+<p>It may be thought that I took up the thread where it had been broken;
+but no. The object that my eyes encountered, and which the cemented
+leaves had so long concealed, was beyond the power of the most
+capricious or lawless fancy to have prefigured; yet it bore a shadowy
+resemblance to the images with which my imagination was previously
+occupied. I opened, and beheld&mdash;<i>a bank-note</i>!</p>
+
+<p>To the first transports of surprise, the conjecture succeeded, that the
+remaining leaves, cemented together in the same manner, might enclose
+similar bills. They were hastily separated, and the conjecture was
+verified. My sensations at this discovery were of an inexplicable kind.
+I gazed at the notes in silence. I moved my finger over them; held them
+in different positions; read and reread the name of each sum, and the
+signature; added them together, and repeated to myself&mdash;"<i>Twenty
+thousand dollars!</i> They are mine, and by such means!"</p>
+
+<p>This sum would have redeemed the fallen fortunes of Welbeck. The dying
+Lodi was unable to communicate all the contents of this inestimable
+volume. He had divided his treasure, with a view to its greater safety,
+between this volume and his pocket-book. Death hasted upon him too
+suddenly to allow him to explain his precautions. Welbeck had placed the
+book in his collection, purposing some time to peruse it; but, deterred
+by anxieties which the perusal would have dissipated, he rushed to
+desperation and suicide, from which some evanescent contingency, by
+unfolding this treasure to his view, would have effectually rescued him.</p>
+
+<p>But was this event to be regretted? This sum, like the former, would
+probably have been expended in the same pernicious prodigality. His
+career would have continued some time longer; but his inveterate habits
+would have finally conducted his existence to the same criminal and
+ignominious close.</p>
+
+<p>But the destiny of Welbeck was accomplished. The money was placed,
+without guilt or artifice, in my possession. My fortune had been thus
+unexpectedly and wondrously propitious. How was I to profit by her
+favour? Would not this sum enable me to gather round me all the
+instruments of pleasure? Equipage, and palace, and a multitude of
+servants; polished mirrors, splendid hangings, banquets, and flatterers,
+were equally abhorrent to my taste and my principles. The accumulation
+of knowledge, and the diffusion of happiness, in which riches may be
+rendered eminently instrumental, were the only precepts of duty, and the
+only avenues to genuine felicity.</p>
+
+<p>"But what," said I, "is my title to this money? By retaining it, shall I
+not be as culpable as Welbeck? It came into his possession, as it came
+into mine, without a crime; but my knowledge of the true proprietor is
+equally certain, and the claims of the unfortunate stranger are as valid
+as ever. Indeed, if utility, and not law, be the measure of justice, her
+claim, desolate and indigent as she is, unfitted, by her past life, by
+the softness and the prejudices of her education, for contending with
+calamity, is incontestable.</p>
+
+<p>"As to me, health and diligence will give me, not only the competence
+which I seek, but the power of enjoying it. If my present condition be
+unchangeable, I shall not be unhappy. My occupations are salutary and
+meritorious; I am a stranger to the cares as well as to the enjoyment of
+riches; abundant means of knowledge are possessed by me, as long as I
+have eyes to gaze at man and at nature, as they are exhibited in their
+original forms or in books. The precepts of my duty cannot be mistaken.
+The lady must be sought and the money restored to her."</p>
+
+<p>Certain obstacles existed to the immediate execution of this scheme. How
+should I conduct my search? What apology should I make for withdrawing
+thus abruptly, and contrary to the terms of an agreement into which I
+had lately entered, from the family and service of my friend and
+benefactor Hadwin?</p>
+
+<p>My thoughts were called away from pursuing these inquiries by a rumour,
+which had gradually swelled to formidable dimensions; and which, at
+length, reached us in our quiet retreats. The city, we were told, was
+involved in confusion and panic, for a pestilential disease had begun
+its destructive progress. Magistrates and citizens were flying to the
+country. The numbers of the sick multiplied beyond all example; even in
+the pest-affected cities of the Levant. The malady was malignant and
+unsparing.</p>
+
+<p>The usual occupations and amusements of life were at an end. Terror had
+exterminated all the sentiments of nature. Wives were deserted by
+husbands, and children by parents. Some had shut themselves in their
+houses, and debarred themselves from all communication with the rest of
+mankind. The consternation of others had destroyed their understanding,
+and their misguided steps hurried them into the midst of the danger
+which they had previously laboured to shun. Men were seized by this
+disease in the streets; passengers fled from them; entrance into their
+own dwellings was denied to them; they perished in the public ways.</p>
+
+<p>The chambers of disease were deserted, and the sick left to die of
+negligence. None could be found to remove the lifeless bodies. Their
+remains, suffered to decay by piecemeal, filled the air with deadly
+exhalations, and added tenfold to the devastation.</p>
+
+<p>Such was the tale, distorted and diversified a thousand ways by the
+credulity and exaggeration of the tellers. At first I listened to the
+story with indifference or mirth. Methought it was confuted by its own
+extravagance. The enormity and variety of such an evil made it unworthy
+to be believed. I expected that every new day would detect the absurdity
+and fallacy of such representations. Every new day, however, added to
+the number of witnesses and the consistency of the tale, till, at
+length, it was not possible to withhold my faith.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3>
+
+
+<p>This rumour was of a nature to absorb and suspend the whole soul. A
+certain sublimity is connected with enormous dangers that imparts to our
+consternation or our pity a tincture of the pleasing. This, at least,
+may be experienced by those who are beyond the verge of peril. My own
+person was exposed to no hazard. I had leisure to conjure up terrific
+images, and to personate the witnesses and sufferers of this calamity.
+This employment was not enjoined upon me by necessity, but was ardently
+pursued, and must therefore have been recommended by some nameless
+charm.</p>
+
+<p>Others were very differently affected. As often as the tale was
+embellished with new incidents or enforced by new testimony, the hearer
+grew pale, his breath was stifled by inquietudes, his blood was chilled,
+and his stomach was bereaved of its usual energies. A temporary
+indisposition was produced in many. Some were haunted by a melancholy
+bordering upon madness, and some, in consequence of sleepless panics,
+for which no cause could be assigned, and for which no opiates could be
+found, were attacked by lingering or mortal diseases.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hadwin was superior to groundless apprehensions. His daughters,
+however, partook in all the consternation which surrounded them. The
+eldest had, indeed, abundant reason for her terror. The youth to whom
+she was betrothed resided in the city. A year previous to this, he had
+left the house of Mr. Hadwin, who was his uncle, and had removed to
+Philadelphia in pursuit of fortune.</p>
+
+<p>He made himself clerk to a merchant, and, by some mercantile adventures
+in which he had successfully engaged, began to flatter himself with
+being able, in no long time, to support a family. Meanwhile, a tender
+and constant correspondence was maintained between him and his beloved
+Susan. This girl was a soft enthusiast, in whose bosom devotion and love
+glowed with an ardour that has seldom been exceeded.</p>
+
+<p>The first tidings of the <i>yellow fever</i> was heard by her with
+unspeakable perturbation. Wallace was interrogated, by letter,
+respecting its truth. For a time, he treated it as a vague report. At
+length, a confession was extorted from him that there existed a
+pestilential disease in the city; but he added that it was hitherto
+confined to one quarter, distant from the place of his abode.</p>
+
+<p>The most pathetic entreaties were urged by her that he would withdraw
+into the country. He declared his resolution to comply when the street
+in which he lived should become infected and his stay should be attended
+with real danger. He stated how much his interests depended upon the
+favour of his present employer, who had used the most powerful arguments
+to detain him, but declared that, when his situation should become, in
+the least degree, perilous, he would slight every consideration of
+gratitude and interest, and fly to <i>Malverton</i>. Meanwhile, he promised
+to communicate tidings of his safety by every opportunity.</p>
+
+<p>Belding, Mr. Hadwin's next neighbour, though not uninfected by the
+general panic, persisted to visit the city daily with his <i>market-cart</i>.
+He set out by sunrise, and usually returned by noon. By him a letter was
+punctually received by Susan. As the hour of Belding's return
+approached, her impatience and anxiety increased. The daily epistle was
+received and read, in a transport of eagerness. For a while her emotion
+subsided, but returned with augmented vehemence at noon on the ensuing
+day.</p>
+
+<p>These agitations were too vehement for a feeble constitution like hers.
+She renewed her supplications to Wallace to quit the city. He repeated
+his assertions of being, hitherto, secure, and his promise of coming
+when the danger should be imminent. When Belding returned, and, instead
+of being accompanied by Wallace, merely brought a letter from him, the
+unhappy Susan would sink into fits of lamentation and weeping, and repel
+every effort to console her with an obstinacy that partook of madness.
+It was, at length, manifest that Wallace's delays would be fatally
+injurious to the health of his mistress.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hadwin had hitherto been passive. He conceived that the entreaties
+and remonstrances of his daughter were more likely to influence the
+conduct of Wallace than any representations which he could make. Now,
+however, he wrote the contumacious Wallace a letter, in which he laid
+his commands upon him to return in company with Belding, and declared
+that by a longer delay the youth would forfeit his favour.</p>
+
+<p>The malady had, at this time, made considerable progress. Belding's
+interest at length yielded to his fears, and this was the last journey
+which he proposed to make. Hence our impatience for the return of
+Wallace was augmented; since, if this opportunity were lost, no suitable
+conveyance might again be offered him.</p>
+
+<p>Belding set out, as usual, at the dawn of day. The customary interval
+between his departure and return was spent by Susan in a tumult of hopes
+and fears. As noon approached, her suspense arose to a pitch of wildness
+and agony. She could scarcely be restrained from running along the road,
+many miles, towards the city; that she might, by meeting Belding
+half-way, the sooner ascertain the fate of her lover. She stationed
+herself at a window which overlooked the road along which Belding was to
+pass.</p>
+
+<p>Her sister and her father, though less impatient, marked, with painful
+eagerness, the first sound of the approaching vehicle. They snatched a
+look at it as soon as it appeared in sight. Belding was without a
+companion.</p>
+
+<p>This confirmation of her fears overwhelmed the unhappy Susan. She sunk
+into a fit, from which, for a long time, her recovery was hopeless. This
+was succeeded by paroxysms of a furious insanity, in which she
+attempted to snatch any pointed implement which lay within her reach,
+with a view to destroy herself. These being carefully removed, or
+forcibly wrested from her, she resigned herself to sobs and
+exclamations.</p>
+
+<p>Having interrogated Belding, he informed us that he occupied his usual
+post in the market-place; that heretofore Wallace had duly sought him
+out, and exchanged letters; but that, on this morning, the young man had
+not made his appearance, though Belding had been induced, by his wish to
+see him, to prolong his stay in the city much beyond the usual period.</p>
+
+<p>That some other cause than sickness had occasioned this omission was
+barely possible. There was scarcely room for the most sanguine temper to
+indulge a hope. Wallace was without kindred, and probably without
+friends, in the city. The merchant in whose service he had placed
+himself was connected with him by no considerations but that of
+interest. What then must be his situation when seized with a malady
+which all believed to be contagious, and the fear of which was able to
+dissolve the strongest ties that bind human beings together?</p>
+
+<p>I was personally a stranger to this youth. I had seen his letters, and
+they bespoke, not indeed any great refinement or elevation of
+intelligence, but a frank and generous spirit, to which I could not
+refuse my esteem; but his chief claim to my affection consisted in his
+consanguinity to Mr. Hadwin, and his place in the affections of Susan.
+His welfare was essential to the happiness of those whose happiness had
+become essential to mine. I witnessed the outrages of despair in the
+daughter, and the symptoms of a deep but less violent grief in the
+sister and parent. Was it not possible for me to alleviate their pangs?
+Could not the fate of Wallace be ascertained?</p>
+
+<p>This disease assailed men with different degrees of malignity. In its
+worst form perhaps it was incurable; but, in some of its modes, it was
+doubtless conquerable by the skill of physicians and the fidelity of
+nurses. In its least formidable symptoms, negligence and solitude would
+render it fatal.</p>
+
+<p>Wallace might, perhaps, experience this pest in its most lenient
+degree; but the desertion of all mankind, the want not only of medicines
+but of food, would irrevocably seal his doom. My imagination was
+incessantly pursued by the image of this youth, perishing alone, and in
+obscurity; calling on the name of distant friends, or invoking,
+ineffectually, the succour of those who were near.</p>
+
+<p>Hitherto distress had been contemplated at a distance, and through the
+medium of a fancy delighting to be startled by the wonderful, or
+transported by sublimity. Now the calamity had entered my own doors,
+imaginary evils were supplanted by real, and my heart was the seat of
+commiseration and horror.</p>
+
+<p>I found myself unfit for recreation or employment. I shrouded myself in
+the gloom of the neighbouring forest, or lost myself in the maze of
+rocks and dells. I endeavoured, in vain, to shut out the phantoms of the
+dying Wallace, and to forget the spectacle of domestic woes. At length
+it occurred to me to ask, May not this evil be obviated, and the
+felicity of the Hadwins re-established? Wallace is friendless and
+succourless; but cannot I supply to him the place of protector and
+nurse? Why not hasten to the city, search out his abode, and ascertain
+whether he be living or dead? If he still retain life, may I not, by
+consolation and attendance, contribute to the restoration of his health,
+and conduct him once more to the bosom of his family?</p>
+
+<p>With what transports will his arrival be hailed! How amply will their
+impatience and their sorrow be compensated by his return! In the
+spectacle of their joys, how rapturous and pure will be my delight! Do
+the benefits which I have received from the Hadwins demand a less
+retribution than this?</p>
+
+<p>It is true that my own life will be endangered; but my danger will be
+proportioned to the duration of my stay in this seat of infection. The
+death or the flight of Wallace may absolve me from the necessity of
+spending one night in the city. The rustics who daily frequent the
+market are, as experience proves, exempt from this disease; in
+consequence, perhaps, of limiting their continuance in the city to a few
+hours. May I not, in this respect, conform to their example, and enjoy
+a similar exemption?</p>
+
+<p>My stay, however, may be longer than the day. I may be condemned to
+share in the common destiny. What then? Life is dependent on a thousand
+contingencies, not to be computed or foreseen. The seeds of an early and
+lingering death are sown in my constitution. It is in vain to hope to
+escape the malady by which my mother and my brothers have died. We are a
+race whose existence some inherent property has limited to the short
+space of twenty years. We are exposed, in common with the rest of
+mankind, to innumerable casualties; but, if these be shunned, we are
+unalterably fated to perish by <i>consumption</i>. Why then should I scruple
+to lay down my life in the cause of virtue and humanity? It is better to
+die in the consciousness of having offered an heroic sacrifice, to die
+by a speedy stroke, than by the perverseness of nature, in ignominious
+inactivity and lingering agonies.</p>
+
+<p>These considerations determined me to hasten to the city. To mention my
+purpose to the Hadwins would be useless or pernicious. It would only
+augment the sum of their present anxieties. I should meet with a
+thousand obstacles in the tenderness and terror of Eliza, and in the
+prudent affection of her father. Their arguments I should be condemned
+to hear, but should not be able to confute; and should only load myself
+with imputations of perverseness and temerity.</p>
+
+<p>But how else should I explain my absence? I had hitherto preserved my
+lips untainted by prevarication or falsehood. Perhaps there was no
+occasion which would justify an untruth; but here, at least, it was
+superfluous or hurtful. My disappearance, if effected without notice or
+warning, will give birth to speculation and conjecture; but my true
+motives will never be suspected, and therefore will excite no fears. My
+conduct will not be charged with guilt. It will merely be thought upon
+with some regret, which will be alleviated by the opinion of my safety,
+and the daily expectation of my return.</p>
+
+<p>But, since my purpose was to search out Wallace, I must be previously
+furnished with directions to the place of his abode, and a description
+of his person. Satisfaction on this head was easily obtained from Mr.
+Hadwin; who was prevented from suspecting the motives of my curiosity,
+by my questions being put in a manner apparently casual. He mentioned
+the street, and the number of the house.</p>
+
+<p>I listened with surprise. It was a house with which I was already
+familiar. He resided, it seems, with a merchant. Was it possible for me
+to be mistaken?</p>
+
+<p>What, I asked, was the merchant's name?</p>
+
+<p><i>Thetford.</i></p>
+
+<p>This was a confirmation of my first conjecture. I recollected the
+extraordinary means by which I had gained access to the house and
+bedchamber of this gentleman. I recalled the person and appearance of
+the youth by whose artifices I had been entangled in the snare. These
+artifices implied some domestic or confidential connection between
+Thetford and my guide. Wallace was a member of the family. Could it be
+he by whom I was betrayed?</p>
+
+<p>Suitable questions easily obtained from Hadwin a description of the
+person and carriage of his nephew. Every circumstance evinced the
+identity of their persons. Wallace, then, was the engaging and sprightly
+youth whom I had encountered at Lesher's; and who, for purposes not
+hitherto discoverable, had led me into a situation so romantic and
+perilous.</p>
+
+<p>I was far from suspecting that these purposes were criminal. It was easy
+to infer that his conduct proceeded from juvenile wantonness and a love
+of sport. My resolution was unaltered by this disclosure; and, having
+obtained all the information which I needed, I secretly began my
+journey.</p>
+
+<p>My reflections, on the way, were sufficiently employed in tracing the
+consequences of my project; in computing the inconveniences and dangers
+to which I was preparing to subject myself; in fortifying my courage
+against the influence of rueful sights and abrupt transitions; and in
+imagining the measures which it would be proper to pursue in every
+emergency.</p>
+
+<p>Connected as these views were with the family and character of
+Thetford, I could not but sometimes advert to those incidents which
+formerly happened. The mercantile alliance between him and Welbeck was
+remembered; the allusions which were made to the condition of the latter
+in the chamber-conversation of which I was an unsuspected auditor; and
+the relation which these allusions might possess with subsequent
+occurrences. Welbeck's property was forfeited. It had been confided to
+the care of Thetford's brother. Had the cause of this forfeiture been
+truly or thoroughly explained? Might not contraband articles have been
+admitted through the management or under the connivance of the brothers?
+and might not the younger Thetford be furnished with the means of
+purchasing the captured vessel and her cargo,&mdash;which, as usual, would be
+sold by auction at a fifth or tenth of its real value?</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck was not alive to profit by the detection of this artifice,
+admitting these conclusions to be just. My knowledge will be useless to
+the world; for by what motives can I be influenced to publish the truth?
+or by whom will my single testimony be believed, in opposition to that
+plausible exterior, and, perhaps, to that general integrity, which
+Thetford has maintained? To myself it will not be unprofitable. It is a
+lesson on the principles of human nature; on the delusiveness of
+appearances; on the perviousness of fraud; and on the power with which
+nature has invested human beings over the thoughts and actions of each
+other.</p>
+
+<p>Thetford and his frauds were dismissed from my thoughts, to give place
+to considerations relative to Clemenza Lodi, and the money which chance
+had thrown into my possession. Time had only confirmed my purpose to
+restore these bills to the rightful proprietor, and heightened my
+impatience to discover her retreat. I reflected, that the means of doing
+this were more likely to suggest themselves at the place to which I was
+going than elsewhere. I might, indeed, perish before my views, in this
+respect, could be accomplished. Against these evils I had at present no
+power to provide. While I lived, I would bear perpetually about me the
+volume and its precious contents. If I died, a superior power must
+direct the course of this as of all other events.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XV.</h3>
+
+
+<p>These meditations did not enfeeble my resolution, or slacken my pace. In
+proportion as I drew near the city, the tokens of its calamitous
+condition became more apparent. Every farm-house was filled with
+supernumerary tenants, fugitives from home, and haunting the skirts of
+the road, eager to detain every passenger with inquiries after news. The
+passengers were numerous; for the tide of emigration was by no means
+exhausted. Some were on foot, bearing in their countenances the tokens
+of their recent terror, and filled with mournful reflections on the
+forlornness of their state. Few had secured to themselves an asylum;
+some were without the means of paying for victuals or lodging for the
+coming night; others, who were not thus destitute, yet knew not whither
+to apply for entertainment, every house being already overstocked with
+inhabitants, or barring its inhospitable doors at their approach.</p>
+
+<p>Families of weeping mothers and dismayed children, attended with a few
+pieces of indispensable furniture, were carried in vehicles of every
+form. The parent or husband had perished; and the price of some movable,
+or the pittance handed forth by public charity, had been expended to
+purchase the means of retiring from this theatre of disasters, though
+uncertain and hopeless of accommodation in the neighbouring districts.</p>
+
+<p>Between these and the fugitives whom curiosity had led to the road,
+dialogues frequently took place, to which I was suffered to listen. From
+every mouth the tale of sorrow was repeated with new aggravations.
+Pictures of their own distress, or of that of their neighbours, were
+exhibited in all the hues which imagination can annex to pestilence and
+poverty.</p>
+
+<p>My preconceptions of the evil now appeared to have fallen short of the
+truth. The dangers into which I was rushing seemed more numerous and
+imminent than I had previously imagined. I wavered not in my purpose. A
+panic crept to my heart, which more vehement exertions were necessary to
+subdue or control; but I harboured not a momentary doubt that the course
+which I had taken was prescribed by duty. There was no difficulty or
+reluctance in proceeding. All for which my efforts were demanded was to
+walk in this path without tumult or alarm.</p>
+
+<p>Various circumstances had hindered me from setting out upon this journey
+as early as was proper. My frequent pauses to listen to the narratives
+of travellers contributed likewise to procrastination. The sun had
+nearly set before I reached the precincts of the city. I pursued the
+track which I had formerly taken, and entered High Street after
+nightfall. Instead of equipages and a throng of passengers, the voice of
+levity and glee, which I had formerly observed, and which the mildness
+of the season would, at other times, have produced, I found nothing but
+a dreary solitude.</p>
+
+<p>The market-place, and each side of this magnificent avenue, were
+illuminated, as before, by lamps; but between the verge of Schuylkill
+and the heart of the city I met not more than a dozen figures; and these
+were ghost-like, wrapped in cloaks, from behind which they cast upon me
+glances of wonder and suspicion, and, as I approached, changed their
+course, to avoid touching me. Their clothes were sprinkled with vinegar,
+and their nostrils defended from contagion by some powerful perfume.</p>
+
+<p>I cast a look upon the houses, which I recollected to have formerly
+been, at this hour, brilliant with lights, resounding with lively
+voices, and thronged with busy faces. Now they were closed, above and
+below; dark, and without tokens of being inhabited. From the upper
+windows of some, a gleam sometimes fell upon the pavement I was
+traversing, and showed that their tenants had not fled, but were
+secluded or disabled.</p>
+
+<p>These tokens were new, and awakened all my panics. Death seemed to
+hover over this scene, and I dreaded that the floating pestilence had
+already lighted on my frame. I had scarcely overcome these tremors, when
+I approached a house the door of which was opened, and before which
+stood a vehicle, which I presently recognised to be a <i>hearse</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The driver was seated on it. I stood still to mark his visage, and to
+observe the course which he proposed to take. Presently a coffin, borne
+by two men, issued from the house. The driver was a negro; but his
+companions were white. Their features were marked by ferocious
+indifference to danger or pity. One of them, as he assisted in thrusting
+the coffin into the cavity provided for it, said, "I'll be damned if I
+think the poor dog was quite dead. It wasn't the <i>fever</i> that ailed him,
+but the sight of the girl and her mother on the floor. I wonder how they
+all got into that room. What carried them there?"</p>
+
+<p>The other surlily muttered, "Their legs, to-be-sure."</p>
+
+<p>"But what should they hug together in one room for?"</p>
+
+<p>"To save us trouble, to-be-sure."</p>
+
+<p>"And I thank them with all my heart; but, damn it, it wasn't right to
+put him in his coffin before the breath was fairly gone. I thought the
+last look he gave me told me to stay a few minutes."</p>
+
+<p>"Pshaw! He could not live. The sooner dead the better for him; as well
+as for us. Did you mark how he eyed us when we carried away his wife and
+daughter? I never cried in my life, since I was knee-high, but curse me
+if I ever felt in better tune for the business than just then. Hey!"
+continued he, looking up, and observing me standing a few paces distant,
+and listening to their discourse; "what's wanted? Anybody dead?"</p>
+
+<p>I stayed not to answer or parley, but hurried forward. My joints
+trembled, and cold drops stood on my forehead. I was ashamed of my own
+infirmity; and, by vigorous efforts of my reason, regained some degree
+of composure. The evening had now advanced, and it behooved me to
+procure accommodation at some of the inns.</p>
+
+<p>These were easily distinguished by their <i>signs</i>, but many were without
+inhabitants. At length I lighted upon one, the hall of which was open
+and the windows lifted. After knocking for some time, a young girl
+appeared, with many marks of distress. In answer to my question, she
+answered that both her parents were sick, and that they could receive no
+one. I inquired, in vain, for any other tavern at which strangers might
+be accommodated. She knew of none such, and left me, on someone's
+calling to her from above, in the midst of my embarrassment. After a
+moment's pause, I returned, discomfited and perplexed, to the street.</p>
+
+
+<p>I proceeded, in a considerable degree, at random. At length I reached a
+spacious building in Fourth Street, which the signpost showed me to be
+an inn. I knocked loudly and often at the door. At length a female
+opened the window of the second story, and, in a tone of peevishness,
+demanded what I wanted. I told her that I wanted lodging.</p>
+
+<p>"Go hunt for it somewhere else," said she; "you'll find none here." I
+began to expostulate; but she shut the window with quickness, and left
+me to my own reflections.</p>
+
+<p>I began now to feel some regret at the journey I had taken. Never, in
+the depth of caverns or forests, was I equally conscious of loneliness.
+I was surrounded by the habitations of men; but I was destitute of
+associate or friend. I had money, but a horse-shelter, or a morsel of
+food, could not be purchased. I came for the purpose of relieving
+others, but stood in the utmost need myself. Even in health my condition
+was helpless and forlorn; but what would become of me should this fatal
+malady be contracted? To hope that an asylum would be afforded to a sick
+man, which was denied to one in health, was unreasonable.</p>
+
+<p>The first impulse which flowed from these reflections was to hasten back
+to <i>Malverton</i>; which, with sufficient diligence, I might hope to regain
+before the morning light. I could not, methought, return upon my steps
+with too much speed. I was prompted to run, as if the pest was rushing
+upon me and could be eluded only by the most precipitate flight.</p>
+
+<p>This impulse was quickly counteracted by new ideas. I thought with
+indignation and shame on the imbecility of my proceeding. I called up
+the images of Susan Hadwin, and of Wallace. I reviewed the motives which
+had led me to the undertaking of this journey. Time had, by no means,
+diminished their force. I had, indeed, nearly arrived at the
+accomplishment of what I had intended. A few steps would carry me to
+Thetford's habitation. This might be the critical moment when succour
+was most needed and would be most efficacious.</p>
+
+<p>I had previously concluded to defer going thither till the ensuing
+morning; but why should I allow myself a moment's delay? I might at
+least gain an external view of the house, and circumstances might
+arise which would absolve me from the obligation of remaining an hour
+longer in the city. All for which I came might be performed; the destiny
+of Wallace be ascertained; and I be once more safe within the precincts
+of <i>Malverton</i> before the return of day.</p>
+
+<p>I immediately directed my steps towards the habitation of Thetford.
+Carriages bearing the dead were frequently discovered. A few passengers
+likewise occurred, whose hasty and perturbed steps denoted their
+participation in the common distress. The house of which I was in quest
+quickly appeared. Light from an upper window indicated that it was still
+inhabited.</p>
+
+<p>I paused a moment to reflect in what manner it became me to proceed. To
+ascertain the existence and condition of Wallace was the purpose of my
+journey. He had inhabited this house; and whether he remained in it was
+now to be known. I felt repugnance to enter, since my safety might, by
+entering, be unawares and uselessly endangered. Most of the neighbouring
+houses were apparently deserted. In some there were various tokens of
+people being within. Might I not inquire, at one of these, respecting
+the condition of Thetford's family? Yet why should I disturb them by
+inquiries so impertinent at this unseasonable hour? To knock at
+Thetford's door, and put my questions to him who should obey the signal,
+was the obvious method.</p>
+
+<p>I knocked dubiously and lightly. No one came. I knocked again, and more
+loudly; I likewise drew the bell. I distinctly heard its distant peals.
+If any were within, my signal could not fail to be noticed. I paused,
+and listened, but neither voice nor footsteps could be heard. The light,
+though obscured by window-curtains, which seemed to be drawn close, was
+still perceptible.</p>
+
+<p>I ruminated on the causes that might hinder my summons from being
+obeyed. I figured to myself nothing but the helplessness of disease, or
+the insensibility of death. These images only urged me to persist in
+endeavouring to obtain admission. Without weighing the consequences of
+my act, I involuntarily lifted the latch. The door yielded to my hand,
+and I put my feet within the passage.</p>
+
+<p>Once more I paused. The passage was of considerable extent, and at the
+end of it I perceived light as from a lamp or candle. This impelled me
+to go forward, till I reached the foot of a staircase. A candle stood
+upon the lowest step.</p>
+
+<p>This was a new proof that the house was not deserted. I struck my heel
+against the floor with some violence; but this, like my former signals,
+was unnoticed. Having proceeded thus far, it would have been absurd to
+retire with my purpose uneffected. Taking the candle in my hand, I
+opened a door that was near. It led into a spacious parlour, furnished
+with profusion and splendour. I walked to and fro, gazing at the objects
+which presented themselves; and, involved in perplexity, I knocked with
+my heel louder than ever; but no less ineffectually.</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding the lights which I had seen, it was possible that the
+house was uninhabited. This I was resolved to ascertain, by proceeding
+to the chamber which I had observed, from without, to be illuminated.
+This chamber, as far as the comparison of circumstances would permit me
+to decide, I believed to be the same in which I had passed the first
+night of my late abode in the city. Now was I, a second time, in almost
+equal ignorance of my situation, and of the consequences which impended,
+exploring my way to the same recess.</p>
+
+<p>I mounted the stair. As I approached the door of which I was in search,
+a vapour, infectious and deadly, assailed my senses. It resembled
+nothing of which I had ever before been sensible. Many odours had been
+met with, even since my arrival in the city, less supportable than this.
+I seemed not so much to smell as to taste the element that now
+encompassed me. I felt as if I had inhaled a poisonous and subtle fluid,
+whose power instantly bereft my stomach of all vigour. Some fatal
+influence appeared to seize upon my vitals, and the work of corrosion
+and decomposition to be busily begun.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment, I doubted whether imagination had not some share in
+producing my sensation; but I had not been previously panic-struck; and
+even now I attended to my own sensations without mental discomposure.
+That I had imbibed this disease was not to be questioned. So far the
+chances in my favour were annihilated. The lot of sickness was drawn.</p>
+
+<p>Whether my case would be lenient or malignant, whether I should recover
+or perish, was to be left to the decision of the future. This incident,
+instead of appalling me, tended rather to invigorate my courage. The
+danger which I feared had come. I might enter with indifference on this
+theatre of pestilence. I might execute, without faltering, the duties
+that my circumstances might create. My state was no longer hazardous;
+and my destiny would be totally uninfluenced by my future conduct.</p>
+
+<p>The pang with which I was first seized, and the momentary inclination to
+vomit, which it produced, presently subsided. My wholesome feelings,
+indeed, did not revisit me, but strength to proceed was restored to me.
+The effluvia became more sensible as I approached the door of the
+chamber. The door was ajar; and the light within was perceived. My
+belief that those within were dead was presently confuted by sound,
+which I first supposed to be that of steps moving quickly and timorously
+across the floor. This ceased, and was succeeded by sounds of different
+but inexplicable import.</p>
+
+<p>Having entered the apartment, I saw a candle on the hearth. A table was
+covered with vials and other apparatus of a sick-chamber. A bed stood on
+one side, the curtain of which was dropped at the foot, so as to conceal
+any one within. I fixed my eyes upon this object. There were sufficient
+tokens that some one lay upon the bed. Breath, drawn at long intervals;
+mutterings scarcely audible; and a tremulous motion in the bedstead,
+were fearful and intelligible indications.</p>
+
+<p>If my heart faltered, it must not be supposed that my trepidations arose
+from any selfish considerations. Wallace only, the object of my search,
+was present to my fancy. Pervaded with remembrance of the Hadwins; of
+the agonies which they had already endured; of the despair which would
+overwhelm the unhappy Susan when the death of her lover should be
+ascertained; observant of the lonely condition of this house, whence I
+could only infer that the sick had been denied suitable attendance; and
+reminded, by the symptoms that appeared, that this being was struggling
+with the agonies of death; a sickness of the heart, more insupportable
+than that which I had just experienced, stole upon me.</p>
+
+<p>My fancy readily depicted the progress and completion of this tragedy.
+Wallace was the first of the family on whom the pestilence had seized.
+Thetford had fled from his habitation. Perhaps as a father and husband,
+to shun the danger attending his stay was the injunction of his duty. It
+was questionless the conduct which selfish regards would dictate.
+Wallace was left to perish alone; or, perhaps, (which, indeed, was a
+supposition somewhat justified by appearances,) he had been left to the
+tendance of mercenary wretches; by whom, at this desperate moment, he
+had been abandoned.</p>
+
+<p>I was not mindless of the possibility that these forebodings, specious
+as they were, might be false. The dying person might be some other than
+Wallace. The whispers of my hope were, indeed, faint; but they, at
+least, prompted me to snatch a look at the expiring man. For this
+purpose I advanced and thrust my head within the curtain.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XVI.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The features of one whom I had seen so transiently as Wallace may be
+imagined to be not easily recognised, especially when those features
+were tremulous and deathful. Here, however, the differences were too
+conspicuous to mislead me. I beheld one in whom I could recollect none
+that bore resemblance. Though ghastly and livid, the traces of
+intelligence and beauty were undefaced. The life of Wallace was of more
+value to a feeble individual; but surely the being that was stretched
+before me, and who was hastening to his last breath, was precious to
+thousands.</p>
+
+<p>Was he not one in whose place I would willingly have died? The offering
+was too late. His extremities were already cold. A vapour, noisome and
+contagious, hovered over him. The flutterings of his pulse had ceased.
+His existence was about to close amidst convulsion and pangs.</p>
+
+<p>I withdrew my gaze from this object, and walked to a table. I was nearly
+unconscious of my movements. My thoughts were occupied with
+contemplations of the train of horrors and disasters that pursue the
+race of man. My musings were quickly interrupted by the sight of a small
+cabinet, the hinges of which were broken and the lid half raised. In the
+present state of my thoughts, I was prone to suspect the worst. Here
+were traces of pillage. Some casual or mercenary attendant had not only
+contributed to hasten the death of the patient, but had rifled his
+property and fled.</p>
+
+<p>This suspicion would, perhaps, have yielded to mature reflections, if I
+had been suffered to reflect. A moment scarcely elapsed, when some
+appearance in the mirror, which hung over the table, called my
+attention. It was a human figure. Nothing could be briefer than the
+glance that I fixed upon this apparition; yet there was room enough for
+the vague conception to suggest itself, that the dying man had started
+from his bed and was approaching me. This belief was, at the same
+instant, confuted, by the survey of his form and garb. One eye, a scar
+upon his cheek, a tawny skin, a form grotesquely misproportioned, brawny
+as Hercules, and habited in livery, composed, as it were, the parts of
+one view.</p>
+
+<p>To perceive, to fear, and to confront this apparition were blended into
+one sentiment. I turned towards him with the swiftness of lightning; but
+my speed was useless to my safety. A blow upon my temple was succeeded
+by an utter oblivion of thought and of feeling. I sunk upon the floor
+prostrate and senseless.</p>
+
+<p>My insensibility might be mistaken by observers for death, yet some part
+of this interval was haunted by a fearful dream. I conceived myself
+lying on the brink of a pit, whose bottom the eye could not reach. My
+hands and legs were fettered, so as to disable me from resisting two
+grim and gigantic figures who stooped to lift me from the earth. Their
+purpose, methought, was to cast me into this abyss. My terrors were
+unspeakable, and I struggled with such force, that my bonds snapped and
+I found myself at liberty. At this moment my senses returned, and I
+opened my eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The memory of recent events was, for a time, effaced by my visionary
+horrors. I was conscious of transition from one state of being to
+another; but my imagination was still filled with images of danger. The
+bottomless gulf and my gigantic persecutors were still dreaded. I looked
+up with eagerness. Beside me I discovered three figures, whose character
+or office was explained by a coffin of pine boards which lay upon the
+floor. One stood with hammer and nails in his hand, as ready to replace
+and fasten the lid of the coffin as soon as its burden should be
+received.</p>
+
+<p>I attempted to rise from the floor, but my head was dizzy and my sight
+confused. Perceiving me revive, one of the men assisted me to regain my
+feet. The mist and confusion presently vanished, so as to allow me to
+stand unsupported and to move. I once more gazed at my attendants, and
+recognised the three men whom I had met in High Street, and whose
+conversation I have mentioned that I overheard. I looked again upon the
+coffin. A wavering recollection of the incidents that led me hither, and
+of the stunning blow which I had received, occurred to me. I saw into
+what error appearances had misled these men, and shuddered to reflect by
+what hairbreadth means I had escaped being buried alive.</p>
+
+<p>Before the men had time to interrogate me, or to comment upon my
+situation, one entered the apartment, whose habit and mien tended to
+encourage me. The stranger was characterized by an aspect full of
+composure and benignity, a face in which the serious lines of age were
+blended with the ruddiness and smoothness of youth, and a garb that
+bespoke that religious profession with whose benevolent doctrines the
+example of Hadwin had rendered me familiar.</p>
+
+<p>On observing me on my feet, he betrayed marks of surprise and
+satisfaction. He addressed me in a tone of mildness:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Young man," said he, "what is thy condition? Art thou sick? If thou
+art, thou must consent to receive the best treatment which the times
+will afford. These men will convey thee to the hospital at Bush Hill."</p>
+
+<p>The mention of that contagious and abhorred receptacle inspired me with
+some degree of energy. "No," said I, "I am not sick; a violent blow
+reduced me to this situation. I shall presently recover strength enough
+to leave this spot without assistance."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at me with an incredulous but compassionate air:&mdash;"I fear thou
+dost deceive thyself or me. The necessity of going to the hospital is
+much to be regretted, but, on the whole, it is best. Perhaps, indeed,
+thou hast kindred or friends who will take care of thee?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," said I; "neither kindred nor friends. I am a stranger in the city.
+I do not even know a single being."</p>
+
+<p>"Alas!" returned the stranger, with a sigh, "thy state is sorrowful.
+But how camest thou hither?" continued he, looking around him; "and
+whence comest thou?"</p>
+
+<p>"I came from the country. I reached the city a few hours ago. I was in
+search of a friend who lived in this house."</p>
+
+<p>"Thy undertaking was strangely hazardous and rash; but who is the friend
+thou seekest? Was it he who died in that bed, and whose corpse has just
+been removed?"</p>
+
+<p>The men now betrayed some impatience; and inquired of the last comer,
+whom they called Mr. Estwick, what they were to do. He turned to me, and
+asked if I were willing to be conducted to the hospital.</p>
+
+<p>I assured him that I was free from disease, and stood in no need of
+assistance; adding, that my feebleness was owing to a stunning blow
+received from a ruffian on my temple. The marks of this blow were
+conspicuous, and after some hesitation he dismissed the men; who,
+lifting the empty coffin on their shoulders, disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>He now invited me to descend into the parlour; "for," said he, "the air
+of this room is deadly. I feel already as if I should have reason to
+repent of having entered it."</p>
+
+<p>He now inquired into the cause of those appearances which he had
+witnessed. I explained my situation as clearly and succinctly as I was
+able.</p>
+
+<p>After pondering, in silence, on my story,&mdash;"I see how it is," said he;
+"the person whom thou sawest in the agonies of death was a stranger. He
+was attended by his servant and a hired nurse. His master's death being
+certain, the nurse was despatched by the servant to procure a coffin. He
+probably chose that opportunity to rifle his master's trunk, that stood
+upon the table. Thy unseasonable entrance interrupted him; and he
+designed, by the blow which he gave thee, to secure his retreat before
+the arrival of a hearse. I know the man, and the apparition thou hast so
+well described was his. Thou sayest that a friend of thine lived in this
+house: thou hast come too late to be of service. The whole family have
+perished. Not one was suffered to escape."</p>
+
+<p>This intelligence was fatal to my hopes. It required some efforts to
+subdue my rising emotions. Compassion not only for Wallace, but for
+Thetford, his father, his wife and his child, caused a passionate
+effusion of tears. I was ashamed of this useless and childlike
+sensibility; and attempted to apologize to my companion. The sympathy,
+however, had proved contagious, and the stranger turned away his face to
+hide his own tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," said he, in answer to my excuses, "there is no need to be ashamed
+of thy emotion. Merely to have known this family, and to have witnessed
+their deplorable fate, is sufficient to melt the most obdurate heart. I
+suspect that thou wast united to some one of this family by ties of
+tenderness like those which led the unfortunate <i>Maravegli</i> hither."</p>
+
+<p>This suggestion was attended, in relation to myself, with some degree of
+obscurity; but my curiosity was somewhat excited by the name that he had
+mentioned, I inquired into the character and situation of this person,
+and particularly respecting his connection with this family.</p>
+
+<p>"Maravegli," answered he, "was the lover of the eldest daughter, and
+already betrothed to her. The whole family, consisting of helpless
+females, had placed themselves under his peculiar guardianship. Mary
+Walpole and her children enjoyed in him a husband and a father."</p>
+
+<p>The name of Walpole, to which I was a stranger, suggested doubts which I
+hastened to communicate. "I am in search," said I, "not of a female
+friend, though not devoid of interest in the welfare of Thetford and his
+family. My principal concern is for a youth, by name Wallace."</p>
+
+<p>He looked at me with surprise. "Thetford! this is not his abode. He
+changed his habitation some weeks previous to the <i>fever</i>. Those who
+last dwelt under this roof were an Englishwoman and seven daughters."</p>
+
+<p>This detection of my error somewhat consoled me. It was still possible
+that Wallace was alive and in safety. I eagerly inquired whither
+Thetford had removed, and whether he had any knowledge of his present
+condition.</p>
+
+<p>They had removed to No.&mdash;, in Market Street. Concerning their state he
+knew nothing. His acquaintance with Thetford was imperfect. Whether he
+had left the city or had remained, he was wholly uninformed.</p>
+
+<p>It became me to ascertain the truth in these respects. I was preparing
+to offer my parting thanks to the person by whom I had been so highly
+benefited; since, as he now informed me, it was by his interposition
+that I was hindered from being enclosed alive in a coffin. He was
+dubious of my true condition, and peremptorily commanded the followers
+of the hearse to desist. A delay of twenty minutes, and some medical
+application, would, he believed, determine whether my life was
+extinguished or suspended. At the end of this time, happily, my senses
+were recovered.</p>
+
+<p>Seeing my intention to depart, he inquired why, and whither I was going.
+Having heard my answer,&mdash;"Thy design," resumed he, "is highly indiscreet
+and rash. Nothing will sooner generate this fever than fatigue and
+anxiety. Thou hast scarcely recovered from the blow so lately received.
+Instead of being useful to others, this precipitation will only disable
+thyself. Instead of roaming the streets and inhaling this unwholesome
+air, thou hadst better betake thyself to bed and try to obtain some
+sleep. In the morning, thou wilt be better qualified to ascertain the
+fate of thy friend, and afford him the relief which he shall want."</p>
+
+<p>I could not but admit the reasonableness of these remonstrances; but
+where should a chamber and bed be sought? It was not likely that a new
+attempt to procure accommodation at the inns would succeed better than
+the former.</p>
+
+<p>"Thy state," replied he, "is sorrowful. I have no house to which I can
+lead thee. I divide my chamber, and even my bed, with another, and my
+landlady could not be prevailed upon to admit a stranger. What thou wilt
+do, I know not. This house has no one to defend it. It was purchased and
+furnished by the last possessor; but the whole family, including
+mistress, children, and servants, were cut off in a single week.
+Perhaps no one in America can claim the property. Meanwhile, plunderers
+are numerous and active. A house thus totally deserted, and replenished
+with valuable furniture, will, I fear, become their prey. To-night
+nothing can be done towards rendering it secure, but staying in it. Art
+thou willing to remain here till the morrow?</p>
+
+<p>"Every bed in the house has probably sustained a dead person. It would
+not be proper, therefore, to lie in any one of them. Perhaps thou mayest
+find some repose upon this carpet. It is, at least, better than the
+harder pavement and the open air."</p>
+
+<p>This proposal, after some hesitation, I embraced. He was preparing to
+leave me, promising, if life were spared to him, to return early in the
+morning. My curiosity respecting the person whose dying agonies I had
+witnessed prompted me to detain him a few minutes.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" said he, "this, perhaps, is the only one of many victims to this
+pestilence whose loss the remotest generations may have reason to
+deplore. He was the only descendant of an illustrious house of Venice.
+He has been devoted from his childhood to the acquisition of knowledge
+and the practice of virtue. He came hither as an enlightened observer;
+and, after traversing the country, conversing with all the men in it
+eminent for their talents or their office, and collecting a fund of
+observations whose solidity and justice have seldom been paralleled, he
+embarked, three months ago, for Europe.</p>
+
+<p>"Previously to his departure, he formed a tender connection with the
+eldest daughter of this family. The mother and her children had recently
+arrived from England. So many faultless women, both mentally and
+personally considered, it was not my fortune to meet with before. This
+youth well deserved to be adopted into this family. He proposed to
+return with the utmost expedition to his native country, and, after the
+settlement of his affairs, to hasten back to America and ratify his
+contract with Fanny Walpole.</p>
+
+<p>"The ship in which he embarked had scarcely gone twenty leagues to sea,
+before she was disabled by a storm, and obliged to return to port. He
+posted to New York, to gain a passage in a packet shortly to sail.
+Meanwhile this malady prevailed among us. Mary Walpole pole was hindered
+by her ignorance of the nature of that evil which assailed us, and the
+counsel of injudicious friends, from taking the due precautions for her
+safety. She hesitated to fly till flight was rendered impracticable. Her
+death added to the helplessness and distraction of the family. They were
+successively seized and destroyed by the same pest.</p>
+
+<p>"Maravegli was apprized of their danger. He allowed the packet to depart
+without him, and hastened to rescue the Walpoles from the perils which
+encompassed them. He arrived in this city time enough to witness the
+interment of the last survivor. In the same hour he was seized himself
+by this disease: the catastrophe is known to thee.</p>
+
+<p>"I will now leave thee to thy repose. Sleep is no less needful to myself
+than to thee; for this is the second night which has passed without it."
+Saying this, my companion took his leave.</p>
+
+<p>I now enjoyed leisure to review my situation. I experienced no
+inclination to sleep. I lay down for a moment, but my comfortless
+sensations and restless contemplations would not permit me to rest.
+Before I entered this house, I was tormented with hunger; but my craving
+had given place to inquietude and loathing. I paced, in thoughtful and
+anxious mood, across the floor of the apartment.</p>
+
+<p>I mused upon the incidents related by Estwick, upon the exterminating
+nature of this pestilence, and on the horrors of which it was
+productive. I compared the experience of the last hours with those
+pictures which my imagination had drawn in the retirements of
+<i>Malverton</i>. I wondered at the contrariety that exists between the
+scenes of the city and the country; and fostered, with more zeal than
+ever, the resolution to avoid those seats of depravity and danger.</p>
+
+<p>Concerning my own destiny, however, I entertained no doubt. My new
+sensations assured me that my stomach had received this corrosive
+poison. Whether I should die or live was easily decided. The sickness
+which assiduous attendance and powerful prescriptions might remove
+would, by negligence and solitude, be rendered fatal; but from whom
+could I expect medical or friendly treatment?</p>
+
+<p>I had indeed a roof over my head. I should not perish in the public way;
+but what was my ground for hoping to continue under this roof? My
+sickness being suspected, I should be dragged in a cart to the hospital;
+where I should, indeed, die, but not with the consolation of loneliness
+and silence. Dying groans were the only music, and livid corpses were
+the only spectacle, to which I should there be introduced.</p>
+
+<p>Immured in these dreary meditations, the night passed away. The light
+glancing through the window awakened in my bosom a gleam of
+cheerfulness. Contrary to my expectations, my feelings were not more
+distempered, notwithstanding my want of sleep, than on the last evening.
+This was a token that my state was far from being so desperate as I
+suspected. It was possible, I thought, that this was the worst
+indisposition to which I was liable.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, the coming of Estwick was impatiently expected. The sun
+arose, and the morning advanced, but he came not. I remembered that he
+talked of having reason to repent his visit to this house. Perhaps he,
+likewise, was sick, and this was the cause of his delay. This man's
+kindness had even my love. If I had known the way to his dwelling, I
+should have hastened thither, to inquire into his condition, and to
+perform for him every office that humanity might enjoin; but he had not
+afforded me any information on that head.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XVII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was now incumbent on me to seek the habitation of Thetford. To leave
+this house accessible to every passenger appeared to be imprudent. I had
+no key by which I might lock the principal door. I therefore bolted it
+on the inside, and passed through a window, the shutters of which I
+closed, though I could not fasten after me. This led me into a spacious
+court, at the end of which was a brick wall, over which I leaped into
+the street. This was the means by which I had formerly escaped from the
+same precincts.</p>
+
+<p>The streets, as I passed, were desolate and silent. The largest
+computation made the number of fugitives two-thirds of the whole people;
+yet, judging by the universal desolation, it seemed as if the solitude
+were nearly absolute. That so many of the houses were closed, I was
+obliged to ascribe to the cessation of traffic, which made the opening
+of their windows useless, and the terror of infection, which made the
+inhabitants seclude themselves from the observation of each other.</p>
+
+<p>I proceeded to search out the house to which Estwick had directed me as
+the abode of Thetford. What was my consternation when I found it to be
+the same at the door of which the conversation took place of which I had
+been an auditor on the last evening!</p>
+
+<p>I recalled the scene of which a rude sketch had been given by the
+<i>hearse-men</i>. If such were the fate of the master of the family,
+abounding with money and friends, what could be hoped for the moneyless
+and friendless Wallace? The house appeared to be vacant and silent; but
+these tokens might deceive. There was little room for hope; but
+certainty was wanting, and might, perhaps, be obtained by entering the
+house. In some of the upper rooms a wretched being might be immured; by
+whom the information, so earnestly desired, might be imparted, and to
+whom my presence might bring relief, not only from pestilence, but
+famine. For a moment, I forgot my own necessitous condition, and
+reflected not that abstinence had already undermined my strength.</p>
+
+<p>I proceeded to knock at the door. That my signal was unnoticed produced
+no surprise. The door was unlocked, and I opened. At this moment my
+attention was attracted by the opening of another door near me. I
+looked, and perceived a man issuing forth from a house at a small
+distance.</p>
+
+<p>It now occurred to me, that the information which I sought might
+possibly be gained from one of Thetford's neighbours. This person was
+aged, but seemed to have lost neither cheerfulness nor vigour. He had an
+air of intrepidity and calmness. It soon appeared that I was the object
+of his curiosity. He had, probably, marked my deportment through some
+window of his dwelling, and had come forth to make inquiries into the
+motives of my conduct.</p>
+
+<p>He courteously saluted me. "You seem," said he, "to be in search of some
+one. If I can afford you the information you want, you will be welcome
+to it."</p>
+
+<p>Encouraged by this address, I mentioned the name of Thetford; and added
+my fears that he had not escaped the general calamity.</p>
+
+<p>"It is true," said he. "Yesterday himself, his wife, and his child, were
+in a hopeless condition. I saw them in the evening, and expected not to
+find them alive this morning. As soon as it was light, however, I
+visited the house again; but found it empty. I suppose they must have
+died, and been removed in the night."</p>
+
+<p>Though anxious to ascertain the destiny of Wallace, I was unwilling to
+put direct questions. I shuddered, while I longed to know the truth.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," said I, falteringly, "did he not seasonably withdraw from the
+city? Surely he had the means of purchasing an asylum in the country."</p>
+
+<p>"I can scarcely tell you," he answered. "Some infatuation appeared to
+have seized him. No one was more timorous; but he seemed to think
+himself safe as long as he avoided contact with infected persons. He was
+likewise, I believe, detained by a regard to his interest. His flight
+would not have been more injurious to his affairs than it was to those
+of others; but gain was, in his eyes, the supreme good. He intended
+ultimately to withdraw; but his escape to-day, gave him new courage to
+encounter the perils of to-morrow. He deferred his departure from day to
+day, till it ceased to be practicable."</p>
+
+<p>"His family," said I, "was numerous. It consisted of more than his wife
+and children. Perhaps these retired in sufficient season."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said he; "his father left the house at an early period. One or
+two of the servants likewise forsook him. One girl, more faithful and
+heroic than the rest, resisted the remonstrances of her parents and
+friends, and resolved to adhere to him in every fortune. She was anxious
+that the family should fly from danger, and would willingly have fled in
+their company; but while they stayed, it was her immovable resolution
+not to abandon them.</p>
+
+<p>"Alas, poor girl! She knew not of what stuff the heart of Thetford was
+made. Unhappily, she was the first to become sick. I question much
+whether her disease was pestilential. It was, probably, a slight
+indisposition, which, in a few days, would have vanished of itself, or
+have readily yielded to suitable treatment.</p>
+
+<p>"Thetford was transfixed with terror. Instead of summoning a physician,
+to ascertain the nature of her symptoms, he called a negro and his cart
+from Bush Hill. In vain the neighbours interceded for this unhappy
+victim. In vain she implored his clemency, and asserted the lightness of
+her indisposition. She besought him to allow her to send to her mother,
+who resided a few miles in the country, who would hasten to her succour,
+and relieve him and his family from the danger and trouble of nursing
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"The man was lunatic with apprehension. He rejected her entreaties,
+though urged in a manner that would have subdued a heart of flint. The
+girl was innocent, and amiable, and courageous, but entertained an
+unconquerable dread of the hospital. Finding entreaties ineffectual, she
+exerted all her strength in opposition to the man who lifted her into
+the cart.</p>
+
+<p>"Finding that her struggles availed nothing, she resigned herself to
+despair. In going to the hospital, she believed herself led to certain
+death, and to the sufferance of every evil which the known inhumanity of
+its attendants could inflict. This state of mind, added to exposure to a
+noonday sun, in an open vehicle, moving, for a mile, over a rugged
+pavement, was sufficient to destroy her. I was not surprised to hear
+that she died the next day.</p>
+
+<p>"This proceeding was sufficiently iniquitous; yet it was not the worst
+act of this man. The rank and education of the young woman might be some
+apology for negligence; but his clerk, a youth who seemed to enjoy his
+confidence, and to be treated by his family on the footing of a brother
+or son, fell sick on the next night, and was treated in the same
+manner."</p>
+
+<p>These tidings struck me to the heart. A burst of indignation and sorrow
+filled my eyes. I could scarcely stifle my emotions sufficiently to ask,
+"Of whom, sir, do you speak? Was the name of the youth&mdash;his
+name&mdash;was&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"His name was Wallace. I see that you have some interest in his fate. He
+was one whom I loved. I would have given half my fortune to procure him
+accommodation under some hospitable roof. His attack was violent; but,
+still, his recovery, if he had been suitably attended, was possible.
+That he should survive removal to the hospital, and the treatment he
+must receive when there, was not to be hoped.</p>
+
+<p>"The conduct of Thetford was as absurd as it was wicked. To imagine the
+disease to be contagious was the height of folly; to suppose himself
+secure, merely by not permitting a sick man to remain under his roof,
+was no less stupid; but Thetford's fears had subverted his
+understanding. He did not listen to arguments or supplications. His
+attention was incapable of straying from one object. To influence him by
+words was equivalent to reasoning with the deaf.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps the wretch was more to be pitied than hated. The victims of his
+implacable caution could scarcely have endured agonies greater than
+those which his pusillanimity inflicted on himself. Whatever be the
+amount of his guilt, the retribution has been adequate. He witnessed the
+death of his wife and child, and last night was the close of his own
+existence. Their sole attendant was a black woman; whom, by frequent
+visits, I endeavoured, with little success, to make diligent in the
+performance of her duty."</p>
+
+<p>Such, then, was the catastrophe of Wallace. The end for which I
+journeyed hither was accomplished. His destiny was ascertained; and all
+that remained was to fulfil the gloomy predictions of the lovely but
+unhappy Susan. To tell them all the truth would be needlessly to
+exasperate her sorrow. Time, aided by the tenderness and sympathy of
+friendship, may banish her despair, and relieve her from all but the
+witcheries of melancholy.</p>
+
+<p>Having disengaged my mind from these reflections, I explained to my
+companion, in general terms, my reasons for visiting the city, and my
+curiosity respecting. Thetford. He inquired into the particulars of my
+journey, and the time of my arrival. When informed that I had come in
+the preceding evening, and had passed the subsequent hours without sleep
+or food, he expressed astonishment and compassion.</p>
+
+<p>"Your undertaking," said he, "has certainly been hazardous. There is
+poison in every breath which you draw, but this hazard has been greatly
+increased by abstaining from food and sleep. My advice is to hasten back
+into the country; but you must first take some repose and some victuals.
+If you pass Schuylkill before nightfall, it will be sufficient."</p>
+
+<p>I mentioned the difficulty of procuring accommodation on the road. It
+would be most prudent to set out upon my journey so as to reach
+<i>Malverton</i> at night. As to food and sleep, they were not to be
+purchased in this city.</p>
+
+<p>"True," answered my companion, with quickness, "they are not to be
+bought; but I will furnish you with as much as you desire of both, for
+nothing. That is my abode," continued he, pointing to the house which he
+had lately left. "I reside with a widow lady and her daughter, who took
+my counsel, and fled in due season. I remain to moralize upon the scene,
+with only a faithful black, who makes my bed, prepares my coffee, and
+bakes my loaf. If I am sick, all that a physician can do, I will do for
+myself, and all that a nurse can perform, I expect to be performed by
+<i>Austin</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"Come with me, drink some coffee, rest a while on my mattress, and then
+fly, with my benedictions on your head."</p>
+
+<p>These words were accompanied by features disembarrassed and benevolent.
+My temper is alive to social impulses, and I accepted his invitation,
+not so much because I wished to eat or to sleep, but because I felt
+reluctance to part so soon with a being who possessed so much fortitude
+and virtue.</p>
+
+<p>He was surrounded by neatness and plenty. Austin added dexterity to
+submissiveness. My companion, whose name I now found to be Medlicote,
+was prone to converse, and commented on the state of the city like one
+whose reading had been extensive and experience large. He combated an
+opinion which I had casually formed respecting the origin of this
+epidemic, and imputed it, not to infected substances imported from the
+East or West, but to a morbid constitution of the atmosphere, owing
+wholly or in part to filthy streets, airless habitations, and squalid
+persons.</p>
+
+<p>As I talked with this man, the sense of danger was obliterated, I felt
+confidence revive in my heart, and energy revisit my stomach. Though far
+from my wonted health, my sensation grew less comfortless, and I found
+myself to stand in no need of repose.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast being finished, my friend pleaded his daily engagements as
+reasons for leaving me. He counselled me to strive for some repose, but
+I was conscious of incapacity to sleep. I was desirous of escaping, as
+soon as possible, from this tainted atmosphere, and reflected whether
+any thing remained to be done respecting Wallace.</p>
+
+<p>It now occurred to me that this youth must have left some clothes and
+papers, and, perhaps, books. The property of these was now vested in the
+Hadwins. I might deem myself, without presumption, their representative
+or agent. Might I not take some measures for obtaining possession, or at
+least for the security, of these articles?</p>
+
+<p>The house and its furniture were tenantless and unprotected. It was
+liable to be ransacked and pillaged by those desperate ruffians of whom
+many were said to be hunting for spoil even at a time like this. If
+these should overlook this dwelling, Thetford's unknown successor or
+heir might appropriate the whole. Numberless accidents might happen to
+occasion the destruction or embezzlement of what belonged to Wallace,
+which might be prevented by the conduct which I should now pursue.</p>
+
+<p>Immersed in these perplexities, I remained bewildered and motionless. I
+was at length roused by some one knocking at the door. Austin obeyed the
+signal, and instantly returned, leading in&mdash;Mr. Hadwin!</p>
+
+<p>I know not whether this unlooked-for interview excited on my part most
+grief or surprise. The motive of his coming was easily divined. His
+journey was on two accounts superfluous. He whom he sought was dead. The
+duty of ascertaining his condition I had assigned to myself.</p>
+
+<p>I now perceived and deplored the error of which I had been guilty, in
+concealing my intended journey from my patron. Ignorant of the part I
+had acted, he had rushed into the jaws of this pest, and endangered a
+life unspeakably valuable to his children and friends. I should
+doubtless have obtained his grateful consent to the project which I had
+conceived; but my wretched policy had led me into this clandestine path.
+Secrecy may seldom be a crime. A virtuous intention may produce it; but
+surely it is always erroneous and pernicious.</p>
+
+<p>My friend's astonishment at the sight of me was not inferior to my own.
+The causes which led to this unexpected interview were mutually
+explained. To soothe the agonies of his child, he consented to approach
+the city, and endeavour to procure intelligence of Wallace. When he
+left his house, he intended to stop in the environs, and hire some
+emissary, whom an ample reward might tempt to enter the city, and
+procure the information which was needed.</p>
+
+<p>No one could be prevailed upon to execute so dangerous a service. Averse
+to return without performing his commission, he concluded to examine for
+himself. Thetford's removal to this street was known to him; but, being
+ignorant of my purpose, he had not mentioned this circumstance to me,
+during our last conversation.</p>
+
+<p>I was sensible of the danger which Hadwin had incurred by entering the
+city. Perhaps my knowledge of the inexpressible importance of his life
+to the happiness of his daughters made me aggravate his danger. I knew
+that the longer he lingered in this tainted air, the hazard was
+increased. A moment's delay was unnecessary. Neither Wallace nor myself
+were capable of being benefited by his presence.</p>
+
+<p>I mentioned the death of his nephew as a reason for hastening his
+departure. I urged him in the most vehement terms to remount his horse
+and to fly; I endeavoured to preclude all inquiries respecting myself or
+Wallace; promising to follow him immediately, and answer all his
+questions at <i>Malverton</i>. My importunities were enforced by his own
+fears, and, after a moment's hesitation, he rode away.</p>
+
+<p>The emotions produced by this incident were, in the present critical
+state of my frame, eminently hurtful. My morbid indications suddenly
+returned. I had reason to ascribe my condition to my visit to the
+chamber of Maravegli; but this and its consequences to myself, as well
+as the journey of Hadwin, were the fruits of my unhappy secrecy.</p>
+
+<p>I had always been accustomed to perform my journeys on foot. This, on
+ordinary occasions, was the preferable method, but now I ought to have
+adopted the easiest and swiftest means. If Hadwin had been acquainted
+with my purpose he would not only have approved, but would have allowed
+me, the use of a horse. These reflections were rendered less pungent by
+the recollection that my motives were benevolent, and that I had
+endeavoured the benefit of others by means which appeared to me most
+suitable.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, how was I to proceed? What hindered me from pursuing the
+footsteps of Hadwin with all the expedition which my uneasiness, of
+brain and stomach, would allow? I conceived that to leave any thing
+undone, with regard to Wallace, would be absurd. His property might be
+put under the care of my new friend. But how was it to be distinguished
+from the property of others? It was, probably, contained in trunks,
+which were designated by some label or mark. I was unacquainted with his
+chamber, but, by passing from one to the other, I might finally discover
+it. Some token, directing my footsteps, might occur, though at present
+unforeseen.</p>
+
+<p>Actuated by these considerations, I once more entered Thetford's
+habitation. I regretted that I had not procured the counsel or
+attendance of my new friend; but some engagements, the nature of which
+he did not explain, occasioned him to leave me as soon as breakfast was
+finished.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XVIII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I wandered over this deserted mansion, in a considerable degree, at
+random. Effluvia of a pestilential nature assailed me from every corner.
+In the front room of the second story, I imagined that I discovered
+vestiges of that catastrophe which the past night had produced. The bed
+appeared as if some one had recently been dragged from it. The sheets
+were tinged with yellow, and with that substance which is said to be
+characteristic of this disease, the gangrenous or black vomit. The floor
+exhibited similar stains.</p>
+
+<p>There are many who will regard my conduct as the last refinement of
+temerity, or of heroism. Nothing, indeed, more perplexes me than a
+review of my own conduct. Not, indeed, that death is an object always to
+be dreaded, or that my motive did not justify my actions; but of all
+dangers, those allied to pestilence, by being mysterious and unseen, are
+the most formidable. To disarm them of their terrors requires the
+longest familiarity. Nurses and physicians soonest become intrepid or
+indifferent; but the rest of mankind recoil from the scene with
+unconquerable loathing.</p>
+
+<p>I was sustained, not by confidence of safety, and a belief of exemption
+from this malady, or by the influence of habit, which inures us to all
+that is detestable or perilous, but by a belief that this was as
+eligible an avenue to death as any other; and that life is a trivial
+sacrifice in the cause of duty.</p>
+
+<p>I passed from one room to the other. A portmanteau, marked with the
+initials of Wallace's name, at length attracted my notice. From this
+circumstance I inferred that this apartment had been occupied by him.
+The room was neatly arranged, and appeared as if no one had lately used
+it. There were trunks and drawers. That which I have mentioned was the
+only one that bore marks of Wallace's ownership. This I lifted in my
+arms with a view to remove it to Medlicote's house.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment, methought I heard a footstep slowly and lingeringly
+ascending the stair. I was disconcerted at this incident. The footstep
+had in it a ghost-like solemnity and tardiness. This phantom vanished in
+a moment, and yielded place to more humble conjectures. A human being
+approached, whose office and commission were inscrutable. That we were
+strangers to each other was easily imagined; but how would my
+appearance, in this remote chamber, and loaded with another's property,
+be interpreted? Did he enter the house after me, or was he the tenant of
+some chamber hitherto unvisited; whom my entrance had awakened from his
+trance and called from his couch?</p>
+
+<p>In the confusion of my mind, I still held my burden uplifted. To have
+placed it on the floor, and encountered this visitant, without this
+equivocal token about me, was the obvious proceeding. Indeed, time only
+could decide whether these footsteps tended to this, or to some other,
+apartment.</p>
+
+<p>My doubts were quickly dispelled. The door opened, and a figure glided
+in. The portmanteau dropped from my arms, and my heart's blood was
+chilled. If an apparition of the dead were possible, (and that
+possibility I could not deny,) this was such an apparition. A hue,
+yellowish and livid; bones, uncovered with flesh; eyes, ghastly, hollow,
+woe-begone, and fixed in an agony of wonder upon me; and locks, matted
+and negligent, constituted the image which I now beheld. My belief of
+somewhat preternatural in this appearance was confirmed by recollection
+of resemblances between these features and those of one who was dead. In
+this shape and visage, shadowy and death-like as they were, the
+lineaments of Wallace, of him who had misled my rustic simplicity on my
+first visit to this city, and whose death I had conceived to be
+incontestably ascertained, were forcibly recognised.</p>
+
+<p>This recognition, which at first alarmed my superstition, speedily led
+to more rational inferences. Wallace had been dragged to the hospital.
+Nothing was less to be suspected than that he would return alive from
+that hideous receptacle, but this was by no means impossible. The figure
+that stood before me had just risen from the bed of sickness, and from
+the brink of the grave. The crisis of his malady had passed, and he was
+once more entitled to be ranked among the living.</p>
+
+<p>This event, and the consequences which my imagination connected with it,
+filled me with the liveliest joy. I thought not of his ignorance of the
+causes of my satisfaction, of the doubts to which the circumstances of
+our interview would give birth, respecting the integrity of my purpose.
+I forgot the artifices by which I had formerly been betrayed, and the
+embarrassments which a meeting with the victim of his artifices would
+excite in him; I thought only of the happiness which his recovery would
+confer upon his uncle and his cousins.</p>
+
+<p>I advanced towards him with an air of congratulation, and offered him my
+hand. He shrunk back, and exclaimed, in a feeble voice, "Who are you?
+What business have you here?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am the friend of Wallace, if he will allow me to be so. I am a
+messenger from your uncle and cousins at <i>Malverton</i>. I came to know the
+cause of your silence, and to afford you any assistance in my power."</p>
+
+<p>He continued to regard me with an air of suspicion and doubt. These I
+endeavoured to remove by explaining the motives that led me hither. It
+was with difficulty that he seemed to credit my representations. When
+thoroughly convinced of the truth of my assertions, he inquired with
+great anxiety and tenderness concerning his relations; and expressed his
+hope that they were ignorant of what had befallen him.</p>
+
+<p>I could not encourage his hopes. I regretted my own precipitation in
+adopting the belief of his death. This belief had been uttered with
+confidence, and without stating my reasons for embracing it, to Mr.
+Hadwin. These tidings would be borne to his daughters, and their grief
+would be exasperated to a deplorable and perhaps to a fatal degree.</p>
+
+<p>There was but one method of repairing or eluding this mischief.
+Intelligence ought to be conveyed to them of his recovery. But where was
+the messenger to be found? No one's attention could be found disengaged
+from his own concerns. Those who were able or willing to leave the city
+had sufficient motives for departure, in relation to themselves. If
+vehicle or horse were procurable for money, ought it not to be secured
+for the use of Wallace himself, whose health required the easiest and
+speediest conveyance from this theatre of death?</p>
+
+<p>My companion was powerless in mind as in limbs. He seemed unable to
+consult upon the means of escaping from the inconveniences by which he
+was surrounded. As soon as sufficient strength was regained, he had left
+the hospital. To repair to <i>Malverton</i> was the measure which prudence
+obviously dictated; but he was hopeless of effecting it. The city was
+close at hand; this was his usual home; and hither his tottering and
+almost involuntary steps conducted him.</p>
+
+<p>He listened to my representations and counsels, and acknowledged their
+propriety. He put himself under my protection and guidance, and promised
+to conform implicitly to my directions. His strength had sufficed to
+bring him thus far, but was now utterly exhausted. The task of searching
+for a carriage and horse devolved upon me.</p>
+
+<p>In effecting this purpose, I was obliged to rely upon my own ingenuity
+and diligence. Wallace, though so long a resident in the city, knew not
+to whom I could apply, or by whom carriages were let to hire. My own
+reflections taught me, that this accommodation was most likely to be
+furnished by innkeepers, or that some of those might at least inform me
+of the best measures to be taken. I resolved to set out immediately on
+this search. Meanwhile, Wallace was persuaded to take refuge in
+Medlicote's apartments; and to make, by the assistance of Austin, the
+necessary preparation for his journey.</p>
+
+<p>The morning had now advanced. The rays of a sultry sun had a sickening
+and enfeebling influence beyond any which I had ever experienced. The
+drought of unusual duration had bereft the air and the earth of every
+particle of moisture. The element which I breathed appeared to have
+stagnated into noxiousness and putrefaction. I was astonished at
+observing the enormous diminution of my strength. My brows were heavy,
+my intellects benumbed, my sinews enfeebled, and my sensations
+universally unquiet.</p>
+
+<p>These prognostics were easily interpreted. What I chiefly dreaded was,
+that they would disable me from executing the task which I had
+undertaken. I summoned up all my resolution, and cherished a disdain of
+yielding to this ignoble destiny. I reflected that the source of all
+energy, and even of life, is seated in thought; that nothing is arduous
+to human efforts; that the external frame will seldom languish, while
+actuated by an unconquerable soul.</p>
+
+<p>I fought against my dreary feelings, which pulled me to the earth. I
+quickened my pace, raised my drooping eyelids, and hummed a cheerful and
+favourite air. For all that I accomplished during this day, I believe
+myself indebted to the strenuousness and ardour of my resolutions.</p>
+
+<p>I went from one tavern to another. One was deserted; in another the
+people were sick, and their attendants refused to hearken to my
+inquiries or offers; at a third, their horses were engaged. I was
+determined to prosecute my search as long as an inn or a livery-stable
+remained unexamined, and my strength would permit.</p>
+
+<p>To detail the events of this expedition, the arguments and supplications
+which I used to overcome the dictates of avarice and fear, the
+fluctuation of my hopes and my incessant disappointments, would be
+useless. Having exhausted all my expedients ineffectually, I was
+compelled to turn my weary steps once more to Medlicote's lodgings.</p>
+
+<p>My meditations were deeply engaged by the present circumstances of my
+situation. Since the means which were first suggested were
+impracticable, I endeavoured to investigate others. Wallace's debility
+made it impossible for him to perform this journey on foot; but would
+not his strength and his resolution suffice to carry him beyond
+Schuylkill? A carriage or horse, though not to be obtained in the city,
+could, without difficulty, be procured in the country. Every farmer had
+beasts for burden and draught. One of these might be hired, at no
+immoderate expense, for half a day.</p>
+
+<p>This project appeared so practicable and so specious, that I deeply
+regretted the time and the efforts which had already been so fruitlessly
+expended. If my project, however, had been mischievous, to review it
+with regret was only to prolong and to multiply its mischiefs. I trusted
+that time and strength would not be wanting to the execution of this new
+design.</p>
+
+<p>On entering Medlicote's house, my looks, which, in spite of my languors,
+were sprightly and confident, flattered Wallace with the belief that my
+exertions had succeeded. When acquainted with their failure, he sunk as
+quickly into hopelessness. My new expedient was heard by him with no
+marks of satisfaction. It was impossible, he said, to move from this
+spot by his own strength. All his powers were exhausted by his walk from
+Bush Hill.</p>
+
+<p>I endeavoured, by arguments and railleries, to revive his courage. The
+pure air of the country would exhilarate him into new life. He might
+stop at every fifty yards, and rest upon the green sod. If overtaken by
+the night, we would procure a lodging, by address and importunity; but,
+if every door should be shut against us, we should at least enjoy the
+shelter of some barn, and might diet wholesomely upon the new-laid eggs
+that we should find there. The worst treatment we could meet with was
+better than continuance in the city.</p>
+
+<p>These remonstrances had some influence, and he at length consented to
+put his ability to the test. First, however, it was necessary to
+invigorate himself by a few hours' rest. To this, though with infinite
+reluctance, I consented.</p>
+
+<p>This interval allowed him to reflect upon the past, and to inquire into
+the fate of Thetford and his family. The intelligence which Medlicote
+had enabled me to afford him was heard with more satisfaction than
+regret. The ingratitude and cruelty with which he had been treated
+seemed to have extinguished every sentiment but hatred and vengeance. I
+was willing to profit by this interval to know more of Thetford than I
+already possessed. I inquired why Wallace had so perversely neglected
+the advice of his uncle and cousin, and persisted to brave so many
+dangers when flight was so easy.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot justify my conduct," answered he. "It was in the highest
+degree thoughtless and perverse. I was confident and unconcerned as long
+as our neighbourhood was free from disease, and as long as I forbore any
+communication with the sick; yet I should have withdrawn to Malverton,
+merely to gratify my friends, if Thetford had not used the most powerful
+arguments to detain me. He laboured to extenuate the danger.</p>
+
+<p>"'Why not stay,' said he, 'as long as I and my family stay? Do you think
+that we would linger here, if the danger were imminent? As soon as it
+becomes so, we will fly. You know that we have a country-house prepared
+for our reception. When we go, you shall accompany us. Your services at
+this time are indispensable to my affairs. If you will not desert me,
+your salary next year shall be double; and that will enable you to marry
+your cousin immediately. Nothing is more improbable than that any of us
+should be sick; but, if this should happen to you, I plight my honour
+that you shall be carefully and faithfully attended.'</p>
+
+<p>"These assurances were solemn and generous. To make Susan Hadwin my wife
+was the scope of all my wishes and labours. By staying, I should hasten
+this desirable event, and incur little hazard. By going, I should
+alienate the affections of Thetford; by whom, it is but justice to
+acknowledge, that I had hitherto been treated with unexampled generosity
+and kindness; and blast all the schemes I had formed for rising into
+wealth.</p>
+
+<p>"My resolution was by no means steadfast. As often as a letter from
+<i>Malverton</i> arrived, I felt myself disposed to hasten away; but this
+inclination was combated by new arguments and new entreaties of
+Thetford.</p>
+
+<p>"In this state of suspense, the girl by whom Mrs. Thetford's infant was
+nursed fell sick. She was an excellent creature, and merited better
+treatment than she received. Like me, she resisted the persuasions of
+her friends, but her motives for remaining were disinterested and
+heroic.</p>
+
+<p>"No sooner did her indisposition appear, than she was hurried to the
+hospital. I saw that no reliance could be placed upon the assurances of
+Thetford. Every consideration gave way to his fear of death. After the
+girl's departure, though he knew that she was led by his means to
+execution, yet he consoled himself by repeating and believing her
+assertions, that her disease was not <i>the fever</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"I was now greatly alarmed for my own safety. I was determined to
+encounter his anger and repel his persuasions; and to depart with the
+market-man next morning. That night, however, I was seized with a
+violent fever. I knew in what manner patients were treated at the
+hospital, and removal thither was to the last degree abhorred.</p>
+
+<p>"The morning arrived, and my situation was discovered. At the first
+intimation, Thetford rushed out of the house, and refused to re-enter it
+till I was removed. I knew not my fate, till three ruffians made their
+appearance at my bedside, and communicated their commission.</p>
+
+<p>"I called on the name of Thetford and his wife. I entreated a moment's
+delay, till I had seen these persons, and endeavoured to procure a
+respite from my sentence. They were deaf to my entreaties, and prepared
+to execute their office by force. I was delirious with rage and terror.
+I heaped the bitterest execrations on my murderer; and by turns, invoked
+the compassion of, and poured a torrent of reproaches on, the wretches
+whom he had selected for his ministers. My struggles and outcries were
+vain.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no perfect recollection of what passed till my arrival at the
+hospital. My passions combined with my disease to make me frantic and
+wild. In a state like mine, the slightest motion could not be endured
+without agony. What then must I have felt, scorched and dazzled by the
+sun, sustained by hard boards, and borne for miles over a rugged
+pavement?</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot make you comprehend the anguish of my feelings. To be
+disjointed and torn piecemeal by the rack was a torment inexpressibly
+inferior to this. Nothing excites my wonder but that I did not expire
+before the cart had moved three paces.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew not how, or by whom, I was moved from this vehicle.
+Insensibility came at length to my relief. After a time I opened my
+eyes, and slowly gained some knowledge of my situation. I lay upon a
+mattress, whose condition proved that a half-decayed corpse had recently
+been dragged from it. The room was large, but it was covered with beds
+like my own. Between each, there was scarcely the interval of three
+feet. Each sustained a wretch, whose groans and distortions bespoke the
+desperateness of his condition.</p>
+
+<p>"The atmosphere was loaded by mortal stenches. A vapour, suffocating and
+malignant, scarcely allowed me to breathe. No suitable receptacle was
+provided for the evacuations produced by medicine or disease. My nearest
+neighbour was struggling with death, and my bed, casually extended, was
+moist with the detestable matter which had flowed from his stomach.</p>
+
+<p>"You will scarcely believe that, in this scene of horrors, the sound of
+laughter should be overheard. While the upper rooms of this building are
+filled with the sick and the dying, the lower apartments are the scene
+of carousals and mirth. The wretches who are hired, at enormous wages,
+to tend the sick and convey away the dead, neglect their duty, and
+consume the cordials which are provided for the patients, in debauchery
+and riot.</p>
+
+<p>"A female visage, bloated with malignity and drunkenness, occasionally
+looked in. Dying eyes were cast upon her, invoking the boon, perhaps, of
+a drop of cold water, or her assistance to change a posture which
+compelled him to behold the ghastly writhings or deathful <i>smile</i> of his
+neighbour.</p>
+
+<p>"The visitant had left the banquet for a moment, only to see who was
+dead. If she entered the room, blinking eyes and reeling steps showed
+her to be totally unqualified for ministering the aid that was needed.
+Presently she disappeared, and others ascended the staircase, a coffin
+was deposited at the door, the wretch, whose heart still quivered, was
+seized by rude hands, and dragged along the floor into the passage.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! how poor are the conceptions which are formed, by the fortunate
+few, of the sufferings to which millions of their fellow-beings are
+condemned. This misery was more frightful, because it was seen to flow
+from the depravity of the attendants. My own eyes only would make me
+credit the existence of wickedness so enormous. No wonder that to die in
+garrets, and cellars, and stables, unvisited and unknown, had, by so
+many, been preferred to being brought hither.</p>
+
+<p>"A physician cast an eye upon my state. He gave some directions to the
+person who attended him. I did not comprehend them, they were never
+executed by the nurses, and, if the attempt had been made, I should
+probably have refused to receive what was offered. Recovery was equally
+beyond my expectations and my wishes. The scene which was hourly
+displayed before me, the entrance of the sick, most of whom perished in
+a few hours, and their departure to the graves prepared for them,
+reminded me of the fate to which I, also, was reserved.</p>
+
+<p>"Three days passed away, in which every hour was expected to be the
+last. That, amidst an atmosphere so contagious and deadly, amidst causes
+of destruction hourly accumulating, I should yet survive, appears to me
+nothing less than miraculous. That of so many conducted to this house
+the only one who passed out of it alive should be myself almost
+surpasses my belief.</p>
+
+<p>"Some inexplicable principle rendered harmless those potent enemies of
+human life. My fever subsided and vanished. My strength was revived, and
+the first use that I made of my limbs was to bear me far from the
+contemplation and sufferance of those evils."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XIX.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Having gratified my curiosity in this respect, Wallace proceeded to
+remind me of the circumstances of our first interview. He had
+entertained doubts whether I was the person whom he had met at Lesher's.
+I acknowledged myself to be the same, and inquired, in my turn, into the
+motives of his conduct on that occasion.</p>
+
+<p>"I confess," said he, with some hesitation, "I meant only to sport with
+your simplicity and ignorance. You must not imagine, however, that my
+stratagem was deep-laid and deliberately executed. My professions at the
+tavern were sincere. I meant not to injure but to serve you. It was not
+till I reached the head of the staircase that the mischievous
+contrivance occurred. I foresaw nothings at the moment, but ludicrous
+mistakes and embarrassment. The scheme was executed almost at the very
+moment it occurred.</p>
+
+<p>"After I had returned to the parlour, Thetford charged me with the
+delivery of a message in a distant quarter of the city. It was not till
+I had performed this commission, and had set out on my return, that I
+fully revolved the consequences likely to flow from my project.</p>
+
+<p>"That Thetford and his wife would detect you in their bedchamber was
+unquestionable. Perhaps, weary of my long delay, you would have fairly
+undressed and gone to bed. The married couple would have made
+preparation to follow you, and, when the curtain was undrawn, would
+discover a robust youth, fast asleep, in their place. These images,
+which had just before excited my laughter, now produced a very different
+emotion. I dreaded some fatal catastrophe from the fiery passions of
+Thetford. In the first transports of his fury he might pistol you, or,
+at least, might command you to be dragged to prison.</p>
+
+<p>"I now heartily repented of my jest, and hastened home, that I might
+prevent, as far as possible, the evil effects that might flow from it.
+The acknowledgment of my own agency in this affair would, at least,
+transfer Thetford's indignation to myself, to whom it was equitably due.</p>
+
+<p>"The married couple had retired to their chamber, and no alarm or
+confusion had followed. This was an inexplicable circumstance. I waited
+with impatience till the morning should furnish a solution of the
+difficulty. The morning arrived. A strange event had, indeed, taken
+place in their bedchamber. They found an infant asleep in their bed.
+Thetford had been roused twice in the night, once by a noise in the
+closet, and afterwards by a noise at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Some connection between these sounds and the foundling was naturally
+suspected. In the morning the closet was examined, and a coarse pair of
+shoes was found on the floor. The chamber door, which Thetford had
+locked in the evening, was discovered to be open, as likewise a window
+in the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>"These appearances were a source of wonder and doubt to others, but were
+perfectly intelligible to me. I rejoiced that my stratagem had no more
+dangerous consequence, and admired the ingenuity and perseverance with
+which you had extricated yourself from so critical a state."</p>
+
+<p>This narrative was only the verification of my own guesses. Its facts
+were quickly supplanted in my thoughts by the disastrous picture he had
+drawn of the state of the hospital. I was confounded and shocked by the
+magnitude of this evil. The cause of it was obvious. The wretches whom
+money could purchase were, of course, licentious and unprincipled.
+Superintended and controlled, they might be useful instruments; but that
+superintendence could not be bought.</p>
+
+<p>What qualities were requisite in the governor of such an institution? He
+must have zeal, diligence, and perseverance. He must act from lofty and
+pure motives. He must be mild and firm, intrepid and compliant. One
+perfectly qualified for the office it is desirable, but not possible,
+to find. A dispassionate and honest zeal in the cause of duty and
+humanity may be of eminent utility. Am I not endowed with this zeal?
+Cannot my feeble efforts obviate some portion of this evil?</p>
+
+<p>No one has hitherto claimed this disgustful and perilous situation. My
+powers and discernment are small, but if they be honestly exerted they
+cannot fail to be somewhat beneficial.</p>
+
+<p>The impulse produced by these reflections was to hasten to the City
+Hall, and make known my wishes. This impulse was controlled by
+recollections of my own indisposition, and of the state of Wallace. To
+deliver this youth to his friends was the strongest obligation. When
+this was discharged, I might return to the city, and acquit myself of
+more comprehensive duties.</p>
+
+<p>Wallace had now enjoyed a few hours' rest, and was persuaded to begin
+the journey. It was now noonday, and the sun darted insupportable rays.
+Wallace was more sensible than I of their unwholesome influence. We had
+not reached the suburbs, when his strength was wholly exhausted, and,
+had I not supported him, he would have sunk upon the pavement.</p>
+
+<p>My limbs were scarcely less weak, but my resolutions were much more
+strenuous than his. I made light of his indisposition, and endeavoured
+to persuade him that his vigour would return in proportion to his
+distance from the city. The moment we should reach a shade, a short
+respite would restore us to health and cheerfulness.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing could revive his courage or induce him to go on. To return or to
+proceed was equally impracticable. But, should he be able to return,
+where should he find a retreat? The danger of relapse was imminent; his
+own chamber at Thetford's was unoccupied. If he could regain this house,
+might I not procure him a physician and perform for him the part of
+nurse?</p>
+
+<p>His present situation was critical and mournful. To remain in the
+street, exposed to the malignant fervours of the sun, was not to be
+endured. To carry him in my arms exceeded my strength. Should I not
+claim the assistance of the first passenger that appeared?</p>
+
+<p>At that moment a horse and chaise passed us. The vehicle proceeded at a
+quick pace. He that rode in it might afford us the succour that we
+needed. He might be persuaded to deviate from his course and convey the
+helpless Wallace to the house we had just left.</p>
+
+<p>This thought instantly impelled me forward. Feeble as I was, I even ran
+with speed, in order to overtake the vehicle. My purpose was effected
+with the utmost difficulty. It fortunately happened that the carriage
+contained but one person, who stopped at my request. His countenance and
+guise was mild and encouraging.</p>
+
+<p>"Good friend," I exclaimed, "here is a young man too indisposed to walk.
+I want him carried to his lodgings. Will you, for money or for charity,
+allow him a place in your chaise, and set him down where I shall
+direct?" Observing tokens of hesitation, I continued, "You need have no
+fears to perform this office. He is not sick, but merely feeble. I will
+not ask twenty minutes, and you may ask what reward you think proper."</p>
+
+<p>Still he hesitated to comply. His business, he said, had not led him
+into the city. He merely passed along the skirts of it, whence he
+conceived that no danger would arise. He was desirous of helping the
+unfortunate; but he could not think of risking his own life in the cause
+of a stranger, when he had a wife and children depending on his
+existence and exertions for bread. It gave him pain to refuse, but he
+thought his duty to himself and to others required that he should not
+hazard his safety by compliance.</p>
+
+<p>This plea was irresistible. The mildness of his manner showed that he
+might have been overpowered by persuasion or tempted by reward. I would
+not take advantage of his tractability; but should have declined his
+assistance, even if it had been spontaneously offered. I turned away
+from him in silence, and prepared to return to the spot where I had left
+my friend. The man prepared to resume his way.</p>
+
+<p>In this perplexity, the thought occurred to me that, since this person
+was going into the country, he might, possibly, consent to carry Wallace
+along with him. I confided greatly in the salutary influence of rural
+airs. I believed that debility constituted the whole of his complaint;
+that continuance in the city might occasion his relapse, or, at least,
+procrastinate his restoration.</p>
+
+<p>I once more addressed myself to the traveller, and inquired in what
+direction and how far he was going. To my unspeakable satisfaction, his
+answer informed me that his home lay beyond Mr. Hadwin's, and that this
+road carried him directly past that gentleman's door. He was willing to
+receive Wallace into his chaise, and to leave him at his uncle's.</p>
+
+<p>This joyous and auspicious occurrence surpassed my fondest hopes. I
+hurried with the pleasing tidings to Wallace, who eagerly consented to
+enter the carriage. I thought not at the moment of myself, or how far
+the same means of escaping from my danger might be used. The stranger
+could not be anxious on my account; and Wallace's dejection and weakness
+may apologize for his not soliciting my company, or expressing his fears
+for my safety. He was no sooner seated, than the traveller hurried away.
+I gazed after them, motionless and mute, till the carriage, turning a
+corner, passed beyond my sight.</p>
+
+<p>I had now leisure to revert to my own condition, and to ruminate on that
+series of abrupt and diversified events that had happened during the few
+hours which had been passed in the city: the end of my coming was thus
+speedily and satisfactorily accomplished. My hopes and fears had rapidly
+fluctuated; but, respecting this young man, had now subsided into calm
+and propitious certainty. Before the decline of the sun, he would enter
+his paternal roof, and diffuse ineffable joy throughout that peaceful
+and chaste asylum.</p>
+
+<p>This contemplation, though rapturous and soothing, speedily gave way to
+reflections on the conduct which my duty required, and the safe
+departure of Wallace afforded me liberty, to pursue. To offer myself as
+a superintendent of the hospital was still my purpose. The languors of
+my frame might terminate in sickness, but this event it was useless to
+anticipate. The lofty site and pure airs of Bush Hill might tend to
+dissipate my languors and restore me to health. At least while I had
+power, I was bound to exert it to the wisest purposes. I resolved to
+seek the City Hall immediately, and, for that end, crossed the
+intermediate fields which separated Sassafras from Chestnut Street.</p>
+
+<p>More urgent considerations had diverted my attention from the money
+which I bore about me, and from the image of the desolate lady to whom
+it belonged. My intentions, with regard to her, were the same as ever;
+but now it occurred to me, with new force, that my death might preclude
+an interview between us, and that it was prudent to dispose, in some
+useful way, of the money which would otherwise be left to the sport of
+chance.</p>
+
+<p>The evils which had befallen this city were obvious and enormous. Hunger
+and negligence had exasperated the malignity and facilitated the
+progress of the pestilence. Could this money be more usefully employed
+than in alleviating these evils? During my life, I had no power over it,
+but my death would justify me in prescribing the course which it should
+take.</p>
+
+<p>How was this course to be pointed out? How might I place it, so that I
+should effect my intentions without relinquishing the possession during
+my life?</p>
+
+<p>These thoughts were superseded by a tide of new sensations. The weight
+that incommoded my brows and my stomach was suddenly increased. My brain
+was usurped by some benumbing power, and my limbs refused to support me.
+My pulsations were quickened, and the prevalence of fever could no
+longer be doubted.</p>
+
+<p>Till now, I had entertained a faint hope that my indisposition would
+vanish of itself. This hope was at an end. The grave was before me, and
+my projects of curiosity or benevolence were to sink into oblivion. I
+was not bereaved of the powers of reflection. The consequences of lying
+in the road, friendless and unprotected, were sure. The first passenger
+would notice me, and hasten to summon one of those carriages which are
+busy night and day in transporting its victims to the hospital.</p>
+
+<p>This fate was, beyond all others, abhorrent to my imagination. To hide
+me under some roof, where my existence would be unknown and unsuspected,
+and where I might perish unmolested and in quiet, was my present wish.
+Thetford's or Medlicote's might afford me such an asylum, if it were
+possible to reach it.</p>
+
+<p>I made the most strenuous exertions; but they could not carry me forward
+more than a hundred paces. Here I rested on steps, which, on looking up,
+I perceived to belong to Welbeck's house.</p>
+
+<p>This incident was unexpected. It led my reflections into a new train. To
+go farther, in the present condition of my frame, was impossible. I was
+well acquainted with this dwelling. All its avenues were closed. Whether
+it had remained unoccupied since my flight from it, I could not decide.
+It was evident that, at present, it was without inhabitants. Possibly it
+might have continued in the same condition in which Welbeck had left it.
+Beds or sofas might be found, on which a sick man might rest, and be
+fearless of intrusion.</p>
+
+<p>This inference was quickly overturned by the obvious supposition that
+every avenue was bolted and locked. This, however, might not be the
+condition of the bath-house, in which there was nothing that required to
+be guarded with unusual precautions. I was suffocated by inward and
+scorched by external heat; and the relief of bathing and drinking
+appeared inestimable.</p>
+
+<p>The value of this prize, in addition to my desire to avoid the
+observation of passengers, made me exert all my remnant of strength.
+Repeated efforts at length enabled me to mount the wall; and placed me,
+as I imagined, in security. I swallowed large draughts of water as soon
+as I could reach the well.</p>
+
+<p>The effect was, for a time, salutary and delicious. My fervours were
+abated, and my faculties relieved from the weight which had lately
+oppressed them. My present condition was unspeakably more advantageous
+than the former. I did not believe that it could be improved, till,
+casting my eye vaguely over the building, I happened to observe the
+shutters of a lower window partly opened.</p>
+
+<p>Whether this was occasioned by design or by accident there was no means
+of deciding. Perhaps, in the precipitation of the latest possessor, this
+window had been overlooked. Perhaps it had been unclosed by violence,
+and afforded entrance to a robber. By what means soever it had
+happened, it undoubtedly afforded ingress to me. I felt no scruple in
+profiting by this circumstance. My purposes were not dishonest. I should
+not injure or purloin any thing. It was laudable to seek a refuge from
+the well-meant persecutions of those who governed the city. All I sought
+was the privilege of dying alone.</p>
+
+<p>Having gotten in at the window, I could not but remark that the
+furniture and its arrangements had undergone no alteration in my
+absence. I moved softly from one apartment to another, till at length I
+entered that which had formerly been Welbeck's bedchamber.</p>
+
+<p>The bed was naked of covering. The cabinets and closets exhibited their
+fastenings broken. Their contents were gone. Whether these appearances
+had been produced by midnight robbers, or by the ministers of law and
+the rage of the creditors of Welbeck, was a topic of fruitless
+conjecture.</p>
+
+<p>My design was now effected. This chamber should be the scene of my
+disease and my refuge from the charitable cruelty of my neighbours. My
+new sensations conjured up the hope that my indisposition might prove a
+temporary evil. Instead of pestilential or malignant fever, it might be
+a harmless intermittent. Time would ascertain its true nature;
+meanwhile, I would turn the carpet into a coverlet, supply my pitcher
+with water, and administer without sparing, and without fear, that
+remedy which was placed within my reach.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XX.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I laid myself on the bed and wrapped my limbs in the folds of the
+carpet. My thoughts were restless and perturbed. I was once more busy in
+reflecting on the conduct which I ought to pursue with regard to the
+bank-bills. I weighed, with scrupulous attention, every circumstance
+that might influence my decision. I could not conceive any more
+beneficial application of this property than to the service of the
+indigent, at this season of multiplied distress; but I considered that,
+if my death were unknown, the house would not be opened or examined till
+the pestilence had ceased, and the benefits of this application would
+thus be partly or wholly precluded.</p>
+
+<p>This season of disease, however, would give place to a season of
+scarcity. The number and wants of the poor, during the ensuing winter,
+would be deplorably aggravated. What multitudes might be rescued from
+famine and nakedness by the judicious application of this sum!</p>
+
+<p>But how should I secure this application? To enclose the bills in a
+letter, directed to some eminent citizen or public officer, was the
+obvious proceeding. Both of these conditions were fulfilled in the
+person of the present chief-magistrate. To him, therefore, the packet
+was to be sent.</p>
+
+<p>Paper and the implements of writing were necessary for this end. Would
+they be found, I asked, in the upper room? If that apartment, like the
+rest which I had seen, and its furniture, had remained untouched, my
+task would be practicable; but, if the means of writing were not to be
+immediately procured, my purpose, momentous and dear as it was, must be
+relinquished.</p>
+
+<p>The truth, in this respect, was easily and ought immediately to be
+ascertained. I rose from the bed which I had lately taken, and proceeded
+to the <i>study</i>. The entries and staircases were illuminated by a pretty
+strong twilight. The rooms, in consequence of every ray being excluded
+by the closed shutters, were nearly as dark as if it had been midnight.
+The rooms into which I had already passed were locked, but its key was
+in each lock. I flattered myself that the entrance into the <i>study</i>
+would be found in the same condition. The door was shut, but no key was
+to be seen. My hopes were considerably damped by this appearance, but I
+conceived it to be still possible to enter, since, by chance or by
+design, the door might be unlocked.</p>
+
+<p>My fingers touched the lock, when a sound was heard as if a bolt,
+appending to the door on the inside, had been drawn. I was startled by
+this incident. It betokened that the room was already occupied by some
+other, who desired to exclude a visitor. The unbarred shutter below was
+remembered, and associated itself with this circumstance. That this
+house should be entered by the same avenue, at the same time, and this
+room should be sought, by two persons, was a mysterious concurrence.</p>
+
+<p>I began to question whether I had heard distinctly. Numberless
+inexplicable noises are apt to assail the ear in an empty dwelling. The
+very echoes of our steps are unwonted and new. This, perhaps, was some
+such sound. Resuming courage, I once more applied to the lock. The door,
+in spite of my repeated efforts, would not open.</p>
+
+<p>My design was too momentous to be readily relinquished. My curiosity and
+my fears likewise were awakened. The marks of violence, which I had seen
+on the closets and cabinets below, seemed to indicate the presence of
+plunderers. Here was one who laboured for seclusion and concealment.</p>
+
+<p>The pillage was not made upon my property. My weakness would disable me
+from encountering or mastering a man of violence. To solicit admission
+into this room would be useless. To attempt to force my way would be
+absurd. These reflections prompted me to withdraw from the door; but the
+uncertainty of the conclusions I had drawn, and the importance of
+gaining access to this apartment, combined to check my steps.</p>
+
+<p>Perplexed as to the means I should employ, I once more tried the lock.
+The attempt was fruitless as the former. Though hopeless of any
+information to be gained by that means, I put my eye to the keyhole. I
+discovered a light different from what was usually met with at this
+hour. It was not the twilight which the sun, imperfectly excluded,
+produces, but gleams, as from a lamp; yet its gleams were fainter and
+obscurer than a lamp generally imparts.</p>
+
+<p>Was this a confirmation of my first conjecture? Lamplight at noonday, in
+a mansion thus deserted, and in a room which had been the scene of
+memorable and disastrous events, was ominous. Hitherto no direct proof
+had been given of the presence of a human being. How to ascertain his
+presence, or whether it were eligible by any means to ascertain it, were
+points on which I had not deliberated.</p>
+
+<p>I had no power to deliberate. My curiosity impelled me to call,&mdash;"Is
+there any one within? Speak."</p>
+
+<p>These words were scarcely uttered, when some one exclaimed, in a voice
+vehement but half-smothered, "Good God!"&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>A deep pause succeeded. I waited for an answer; for somewhat to which
+this emphatic invocation might be a prelude. Whether the tones were
+expressive of surprise, or pain, or grief, was, for a moment, dubious.
+Perhaps the motives which led me to this house suggested the suspicion
+which presently succeeded to my doubts,&mdash;that the person within was
+disabled by sickness. The circumstances of my own condition took away
+the improbability from this belief. Why might not another be induced
+like me to hide himself in this desolate retreat? Might not a servant,
+left to take care of the house, a measure usually adopted by the opulent
+at this time, be seized by the reigning malady? Incapacitated for
+exertion, or fearing to be dragged to the hospital, he has shut himself
+in this apartment. The robber, it may be, who came to pillage, was
+overtaken and detained by disease. In either case, detection or
+intrusion would be hateful, and would be assiduously eluded.</p>
+
+<p>These thoughts had no tendency to weaken or divert my efforts to obtain
+access to this room. The person was a brother in calamity, whom it was
+my duty to succour and cherish to the utmost of my power. Once more I
+spoke:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Who is within? I beseech you answer me. Whatever you be, I desire to do
+you good and not injury. Open the door and let me know your condition. I
+will try to be of use to you."</p>
+
+<p>I was answered by a deep groan, and by a sob counteracted and devoured
+as it were by a mighty effort. This token of distress thrilled to my
+heart. My terrors wholly disappeared, and gave place to unlimited
+compassion. I again entreated to be admitted, promising all the succour
+or consolation which my situation allowed me to afford.</p>
+
+<p>Answers were made in tones of anger and impatience, blended with those
+of grief:&mdash;"I want no succour; vex me not with your entreaties and
+offers. Fly from this spot; linger not a moment, lest you participate my
+destiny and rush upon your death."</p>
+
+<p>These I considered merely as the effusions of delirium, or the dictates
+of despair. The style and articulation denoted the speaker to be
+superior to the class of servants. Hence my anxiety to see and to aid
+him was increased. My remonstrances were sternly and pertinaciously
+repelled. For a time, incoherent and impassioned exclamations flowed
+from him. At length, I was only permitted to hear strong aspirations and
+sobs, more eloquent and more indicative of grief than any language.</p>
+
+<p>This deportment filled me with no less wonder than commiseration. By
+what views this person was led hither, by what motives induced to deny
+himself to my entreaties, was wholly incomprehensible. Again, though
+hopeless of success, I repeated my request to be admitted.</p>
+
+<p>My perseverance seemed now to have exhausted all his patience, and he
+exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, "Arthur Mervyn! Begone. Linger but a
+moment, and my rage, tiger-like, will rush upon you and rend you limb
+from limb."</p>
+
+<p>This address petrified me. The voice that uttered this sanguinary menace
+was strange to my ears. It suggested no suspicion of ever having heard
+it before. Yet my accents had betrayed me to him. He was familiar with
+my name. Notwithstanding the improbability of my entrance into this
+dwelling, I was clearly recognized and unhesitatingly named!</p>
+
+<p>My curiosity and compassion were in no wise diminished, but I found
+myself compelled to give up my purpose. I withdrew reluctantly from the
+door, and once more threw myself upon my bed. Nothing was more
+necessary, in the present condition of my frame; than sleep; and sleep
+had, perhaps, been possible, if the scene around me had been less
+pregnant with causes of wonder and panic.</p>
+
+<p>Once more I tasked memory in order to discover, in the persons with whom
+I had hitherto conversed, some resemblance, in voice or tones, to him
+whom I had just heard. This process was effectual. Gradually my
+imagination called up an image which, now that it was clearly seen, I
+was astonished had not instantly occurred. Three years ago, a man, by
+name Colvill, came on foot, and with a knapsack on his back, into the
+district where my father resided. He had learning and genius, and
+readily obtained the station for which only he deemed himself qualified;
+that of a schoolmaster.</p>
+
+<p>His demeanour was gentle and modest; his habits, as to sleep, food, and
+exercise, abstemious and regular. Meditation in the forest, or reading
+in his closet, seemed to constitute, together with attention to his
+scholars, his sole amusement and employment. He estranged himself from
+company, not because society afforded no pleasure, but because studious
+seclusion afforded him chief satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>No one was more idolized by his unsuspecting neighbours. His scholars
+revered him as a father, and made under his tuition a remarkable
+proficiency. His character seemed open to boundless inspection, and his
+conduct was pronounced by all to be faultless.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of a year the scene was changed. A daughter of one of his
+patrons, young, artless, and beautiful, appeared to have fallen a prey
+to the arts of some detestable seducer. The betrayer was gradually
+detected, and successive discoveries showed that the same artifices had
+been practised, with the same success, upon many others. Colvill was the
+arch-villain. He retired from the storm of vengeance that was gathering
+over him, and had not been heard of since that period.</p>
+
+<p>I saw him rarely, and for a short time, and I was a mere boy. Hence the
+failure to recollect his voice, and to perceive that the voice of him
+immured in the room above was the same with that of Colvill. Though I
+had slight reasons for recognising his features or accents, I had
+abundant cause to think of him with detestation, and pursue him with
+implacable revenge, for the victim of his acts, she whose ruin was first
+detected, was&mdash;<i>my sister</i>.</p>
+
+<p>This unhappy girl escaped from the upbraidings of her parents, from the
+contumelies of the world, from the goadings of remorse, and the anguish
+flowing from the perfidy and desertion of Colvill, in a voluntary death.
+She was innocent and lovely. Previous to this evil, my soul was linked
+with hers by a thousand resemblances and sympathies, as well as by
+perpetual intercourse from infancy, and by the fraternal relation. She
+was my sister, my preceptress and friend; but she died&mdash;her end was
+violent, untimely, and criminal! I cannot think of her without
+heart-bursting grief; of her destroyer, without a rancour which I know
+to be wrong, but which I cannot subdue.</p>
+
+<p>When the image of Colvill rushed, upon this occasion, on my thought, I
+almost started on my feet. To meet him, after so long a separation,
+here, and in these circumstances, was so unlooked-for and abrupt an
+event, and revived a tribe of such hateful impulses and agonizing
+recollections, that a total revolution seemed to have been effected in
+my frame. His recognition of my person, his aversion to be seen, his
+ejaculation of terror and surprise on first hearing my voice, all
+contributed to strengthen my belief.</p>
+
+<p>How was I to act? My feeble frame could but ill second my vengeful
+purposes; but vengeance, though it sometimes occupied my thoughts, was
+hindered by my reason from leading me, in any instance, to outrage or
+even to upbraiding.</p>
+
+<p>All my wishes with regard to this man were limited to expelling his
+image from my memory, and to shunning a meeting with him. That he had
+not opened the door at my bidding was now a topic of joy. To look upon
+some bottomless pit, into which I was about to be cast headlong, and
+alive, was less to be abhorred than to look upon the face of Colvill.
+Had I known that he had taken refuge in this house, no power should have
+compelled me to enter it. To be immersed in the infection of the
+hospital, and to be hurried, yet breathing and observant, to my grave,
+was a more supportable fate.</p>
+
+<p>I dwell, with self-condemnation and shame, upon this part of my story.
+To feel extraordinary indignation at vice, merely because we have
+partaken in an extraordinary degree of its mischiefs, is unjustifiable.
+To regard the wicked with no emotion but pity, to be active in
+reclaiming them, in controlling their malevolence, and preventing or
+repairing the ills which they produce, is the only province of duty.
+This lesson, as well as a thousand others, I have yet to learn; but I
+despair of living long enough for that or any beneficial purpose.</p>
+
+<p>My emotions with regard to Colvill were erroneous, but omnipotent. I
+started from my bed, and prepared to rush into the street. I was
+careless of the lot that should befall me, since no fate could be worse
+than that of abiding under the same roof with a wretch spotted with so
+many crimes.</p>
+
+<p>I had not set my feet upon the floor before my precipitation was checked
+by a sound from above. The door of the study was cautiously and slowly
+opened. This incident admitted only of one construction, supposing all
+obstructions removed. Colvill was creeping from his hiding-place, and
+would probably fly with speed from the house. My belief of his sickness
+was now confuted. An illicit design was congenial with his character
+and congruous with those appearances already observed.</p>
+
+<p>I had no power or wish to obstruct his flight. I thought of it with
+transport, and once more threw myself upon the bed, and wrapped my
+averted face in the carpet. He would probably pass this door,
+unobservant of me, and my muffled face would save me from the agonies
+connected with the sight of him.</p>
+
+<p>The footsteps above were distinguishable, though it was manifest that
+they moved with lightsomeness and circumspection. They reached the stair
+and descended. The room in which I lay was, like the rest, obscured by
+the closed shutters. This obscurity now gave way to a light, resembling
+that glimmering and pale reflection which I had noticed in the study. My
+eyes, though averted from the door, were disengaged from the folds which
+covered the rest of my head, and observed these tokens of Colvill's
+approach, flitting on the wall.</p>
+
+<p>My feverish perturbations increased as he drew nearer. He reached the
+door, and stopped. The light rested for a moment. Presently he entered
+the apartment. My emotions suddenly rose to a height that would not be
+controlled. I imagined that he approached the bed, and was gazing upon
+me. At the same moment, by an involuntary impulse, I threw off my
+covering, and, turning my face, fixed my eyes upon my visitant.</p>
+
+<p>It was as I suspected. The figure, lifting in his right hand a candle,
+and gazing at the bed, with lineaments and attitude bespeaking fearful
+expectation and tormenting doubts, was now beheld. One glance
+communicated to my senses all the parts of this terrific vision. A
+sinking at my heart, as if it had been penetrated by a dagger, seized
+me. This was not enough: I uttered a shriek, too rueful and loud not to
+have startled the attention of the passengers, if any had, at that
+moment, been passing the street.</p>
+
+<p>Heaven seemed to have decreed that this period should be filled with
+trials of my equanimity and fortitude. The test of my courage was once
+more employed to cover me with humiliation and remorse. This second
+time, my fancy conjured up a spectre, and I shuddered as if the grave
+were forsaken and the unquiet dead haunted my pillow.</p>
+
+<p>The visage and the shape had indeed preternatural attitudes, but they
+belonged, not to Colvill, but to&mdash;<span class="smcap">Welbeck</span>.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXI.</h3>
+
+
+<p>He whom I had accompanied to the midst of the river; whom I had imagined
+that I saw sink to rise no more, was now before me. Though incapable of
+precluding the groundless belief of preternatural visitations, I was
+able to banish the phantom almost at the same instant at which it
+appeared. Welbeck had escaped from the stream alive; or had, by some
+inconceivable means, been restored to life.</p>
+
+<p>The first was the most plausible conclusion. It instantly engendered a
+suspicion, that his plunging into the water was an artifice, intended to
+establish a belief of his death. His own tale had shown him to be versed
+in frauds, and flexible to evil. But was he not associated with Colvill?
+and what, but a compact in iniquity, could bind together such men?</p>
+
+<p>While thus musing, Welbeck's countenance and gesture displayed emotions
+too vehement for speech. The glances that he fixed upon me were
+unsteadfast and wild. He walked along the floor, stopping at each
+moment, and darting looks of eagerness upon me. A conflict of passions
+kept him mute. At length, advancing to the bed, on the side of which I
+was now sitting, he addressed me:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What is this? Are you here? In defiance of pestilence, are you actuated
+by some demon to haunt me, like the ghost of my offences, and cover me
+with shame? What have I to do with that dauntless yet guiltless front?
+With that foolishly-confiding and obsequious, yet erect and
+unconquerable, spirit? Is there no means of evading your pursuit? Must I
+dip my hands, a second time, in blood; and dig for you a grave by the
+side of Watson?"</p>
+
+<p>These words were listened to with calmness. I suspected and pitied the
+man, but I did not fear him. His words and his looks were indicative
+less of cruelty than madness. I looked at him with an air compassionate
+and wistful. I spoke with mildness and composure:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Welbeck, you are unfortunate and criminal. Would to God I could
+restore you to happiness and virtue! but, though my desire be strong, I
+have no power to change your habits or rescue you from misery.</p>
+
+<p>"I believed you to be dead. I rejoice to find myself mistaken. While you
+live, there is room to hope that your errors will be cured; and the
+turmoils and inquietudes that have hitherto beset your guilty progress
+will vanish by your reverting into better paths.</p>
+
+<p>"From me you have nothing to fear. If your welfare will be promoted by
+my silence on the subject of your history, my silence shall be
+inviolate. I deem not lightly of my promises. They are given, and shall
+not be recalled.</p>
+
+<p>"This meeting was casual. Since I believed you to be dead, it could not
+be otherwise. You err, if you suppose that any injury will accrue to you
+from my life; but you need not discard that error. Since my death is
+coming, I am not averse to your adopting the belief that the event is
+fortunate to you.</p>
+
+<p>"Death is the inevitable and universal lot. When or how it comes, is of
+little moment. To stand, when so many thousands are falling around me,
+is not to be expected. I have acted an humble and obscure part in the
+world, and my career has been short; but I murmur not at the decree that
+makes it so.</p>
+
+<p>"The pestilence is now upon me. The chances of recovery are too slender
+to deserve my confidence. I came hither to die unmolested, and at peace.
+All I ask of you is to consult your own safety by immediate flight; and
+not to disappoint my hopes of concealment, by disclosing my condition to
+the agents of the hospital."</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck listened with the deepest attention. The wildness of his air
+disappeared, and gave place to perplexity and apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>"You are sick," said he, in a tremulous tone, in which terror was
+mingled with affection. "You know this, and expect not to recover. No
+mother, nor sister, nor friend, will be near to administer food, or
+medicine, or comfort; yet you can talk calmly; can be thus considerate
+of others&mdash;of me; whose guilt has been so deep, and who has merited so
+little at your hands!</p>
+
+<p>"Wretched coward! Thus miserable as I am and expect to be, I cling to
+life. To comply with your heroic counsel, and to fly; to leave you thus
+desolate and helpless, is the strongest impulse. Fain would I resist it,
+but cannot.</p>
+
+<p>"To desert you would be flagitious and dastardly beyond all former acts;
+yet to stay with you is to contract the disease, and to perish after
+you.</p>
+
+<p>"Life, burdened as it is with guilt and ignominy, is still dear&mdash;yet you
+exhort me to go; you dispense with my assistance. Indeed, I could be of
+no use; I should injure myself and profit you nothing. I cannot go into
+the city and procure a physician or attendant. I must never more appear
+in the streets of this city. I must leave you, then." He hurried to the
+door. Again, he hesitated. I renewed my entreaties that he would leave
+me; and encouraged his belief that his presence might endanger himself
+without conferring the slightest benefit upon me.</p>
+
+<p>"Whither should I fly? The wide world contains no asylum for me. I lived
+but on one condition. I came hither to find what would save me from
+ruin,&mdash;from death. I find it not. It has vanished. Some audacious and
+fortunate hand has snatched it from its place, and now my ruin is
+complete. My last hope is extinct.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mervyn! I will stay with you. I will hold your head. I will put
+water to your lips. I will watch night and day by your side. When you
+die, I will carry you by night to the neighbouring field; will bury you,
+and water your grave with those tears that are due to your incomparable
+worth and untimely destiny. Then I will lay myself in your bed, and wait
+for the same oblivion."</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck seemed now no longer to be fluctuating between opposite
+purposes. His tempestuous features subsided into calm. He put the
+candle, still lighted, on the table, and paced the floor with less
+disorder than at his first entrance.</p>
+
+<p>His resolution was seen to be the dictate of despair. I hoped that it
+would not prove invincible to my remonstrances. I was conscious that his
+attendance might preclude, in some degree, my own exertions, and
+alleviate the pangs of death; but these consolations might be purchased
+too dear. To receive them at the hazard of his life would be to make
+them odious.</p>
+
+<p>But, if he should remain, what conduct would his companion pursue? Why
+did he continue in the study when Welbeck had departed? By what motives
+were those men led hither? I addressed myself to Welbeck:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Your resolution to remain is hasty and rash. By persisting in it, you
+will add to the miseries of my condition; you will take away the only
+hope that I cherished. But, however you may act, Colvill or I must be
+banished from this roof. What is the league between you? Break it, I
+conjure you, before his frauds have involved you in inextricable
+destruction."</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck looked at me with some expression of doubt.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean," continued I, "the man whose voice I heard above. He is a
+villain and betrayer. I have manifold proofs of his guilt. Why does he
+linger behind you? However you may decide, it is fitting that he should
+vanish."</p>
+
+<p>"Alas!" said Welbeck, "I have no companion, none to partake with me in
+good or evil. I came hither alone."</p>
+
+<p>"How?" exclaimed I. "Whom did I hear in the room above? Some one
+answered my interrogations and entreaties, whom I too certainly
+recognised. Why does he remain?"</p>
+
+<p>"You heard no one but myself. The design that brought me hither was to
+be accomplished without a witness. I desired to escape detection, and
+repelled your solicitations for admission in a counterfeited voice.</p>
+
+<p>"That voice belonged to one from whom I had lately parted. What his
+merits or demerits are, I know not. He found me wandering in the forests
+of New Jersey. He took me to his home. When seized by a lingering
+malady, he nursed me with fidelity and tenderness. When somewhat
+recovered, I speeded hither; but our ignorance of each other's character
+and views was mutual and profound.</p>
+
+<p>"I deemed it useful to assume a voice different from my own. This was
+the last which I had heard, and this arbitrary and casual circumstance
+decided my choice."</p>
+
+<p>This imitation was too perfect, and had influenced my fears too
+strongly, to be easily credited. I suspected Welbeck of some new
+artifice to baffle my conclusions and mislead my judgment. This
+suspicion, however, yielded to his earnest and repeated declarations. If
+Colvill were not here, where had he made his abode? How came friendship
+and intercourse between Welbeck and him? By what miracle escaped the
+former from the river, into which I had imagined him forever sunk?</p>
+
+<p>"I will answer you," said he, with candour. "You know already too much
+for me to have any interest in concealing any part of my life. You have
+discovered my existence, and the causes that rescued me from destruction
+may be told without detriment to my person or fame.</p>
+
+<p>"When I leaped into the river, I intended to perish. I harboured no
+previous doubts of my ability to execute my fatal purpose. In this
+respect I was deceived. Suffocation would not come at my bidding. My
+muscles and limbs rebelled against my will. There was a mechanical
+repugnance to the loss of life, which I could not vanquish. My struggles
+might thrust me below the surface, but my lips were spontaneously shut,
+and excluded the torrent from my lungs. When my breath was exhausted,
+the efforts that kept me at the bottom were involuntarily remitted, and
+I rose to the surface.</p>
+
+<p>"I cursed my own pusillanimity. Thrice I plunged to the bottom, and as
+often rose again. My aversion to life swiftly diminished, and at length
+I consented to make use of my skill in swimming, which has seldom been
+exceeded, to prolong my existence. I landed in a few minutes on the
+Jersey shore.</p>
+
+<p>"This scheme being frustrated, I sunk into dreariness and inactivity. I
+felt as if no dependence could be placed upon my courage, as if any
+effort I should make for self-destruction would be fruitless; yet
+existence was as void as ever of enjoyment and embellishment. My means
+of living were annihilated. I saw no path before me. To shun the
+presence of mankind was my sovereign wish. Since I could not die by my
+own hands, I must be content to crawl upon the surface, till a superior
+fate should permit me to perish.</p>
+
+<p>"I wandered into the centre of the wood. I stretched myself on the mossy
+verge of a brook, and gazed at the stars till they disappeared. The next
+day was spent with little variation. The cravings of hunger were felt,
+and the sensation was a joyous one, since it afforded me the practicable
+means of death. To refrain from food was easy, since some efforts would
+be needful to procure it, and these efforts should not be made. Thus was
+the sweet oblivion for which I so earnestly panted placed within my
+reach.</p>
+
+<p>"Three days of abstinence, and reverie, and solitude, succeeded. On the
+evening of the fourth, I was seated on a rock, with my face buried in my
+hands. Some one laid his hand upon my shoulder. I started and looked up.
+I beheld a face beaming with compassion and benignity. He endeavoured to
+extort from me the cause of my solitude and sorrow. I disregarded his
+entreaties, and was obstinately silent.</p>
+
+<p>"Finding me invincible in this respect, he invited me to his cottage,
+which was hard by. I repelled him at first with impatience and anger,
+but he was not to be discouraged or intimidated. To elude his
+persuasions I was obliged to comply. My strength was gone, and the vital
+fabric was crumbling into pieces. A fever raged in my veins, and I was
+consoled by reflecting that my life was at once assailed by famine and
+disease.</p>
+
+<p>"Meanwhile, my gloomy meditations experienced no respite. I incessantly
+ruminated on the events of my past life. The long series of my crimes
+arose daily and afresh to my imagination. The image of Lodi was
+recalled, his expiring looks and the directions which were mutually
+given respecting his sister's and his property.</p>
+
+<p>"As I perpetually revolved these incidents, they assumed new forms, and
+were linked with new associations. The volume written by his father, and
+transferred to me by tokens which were now remembered to be more
+emphatic than the nature of the composition seemed to justify, was
+likewise remembered. It came attended by recollections respecting a
+volume which I filled, when a youth, with extracts from the Roman and
+Greek poets. Besides this literary purpose, I likewise used to preserve
+in it the bank-bills with the keeping or carriage of which I chanced to
+be entrusted. This image led me back to the leather case containing
+Lodi's property, which was put into my hands at the same time with the
+volume.</p>
+
+<p>"These images now gave birth to a third conception, which darted on my
+benighted understanding like an electrical flash. Was it not possible
+that part of Lodi's property might be enclosed within the leaves of this
+volume? In hastily turning it over, I recollected to have noticed leaves
+whose edges by accident or design adhered to each other. Lodi, in
+speaking of the sale of his father's West-India property, mentioned that
+the sum obtained for it was forty thousand dollars. Half only of this
+sum had been discovered by me. How had the remainder been appropriated?
+Surely this volume contained it.</p>
+
+<p>"The influence of this thought was like the infusion of a new soul into
+my frame. From torpid and desperate, from inflexible aversion to
+medicine and food, I was changed in a moment into vivacity and hope,
+into ravenous avidity for whatever could contribute to my restoration to
+health.</p>
+
+<p>"I was not without pungent regrets and racking fears. That this volume
+would be ravished away by creditors or plunderers was possible. Every
+hour might be that which decided my fate. The first impulse was to seek
+my dwelling and search for this precious deposit.</p>
+
+<p>"Meanwhile, my perturbations and impatience only exasperated my disease.
+While chained to my bed, the rumour of pestilence was spread abroad.
+This event, however, generally calamitous, was propitious to me, and was
+hailed with satisfaction. It multiplied the chances that my house and
+its furniture would be unmolested.</p>
+
+<p>"My friend was assiduous and indefatigable in his kindness. My
+deportment, before and subsequent to the revival of my hopes, was
+incomprehensible, and argued nothing less than insanity. My thoughts
+were carefully concealed from him, and all that he witnessed was
+contradictory and unintelligible.</p>
+
+<p>"At length, my strength was sufficiently restored. I resisted all my
+protector's importunities to postpone my departure till the perfect
+confirmation of my health. I designed to enter the city at midnight,
+that prying eyes might be eluded; to bear with me a candle and the means
+of lighting it, to explore my way to my ancient study, and to ascertain
+my future claim to existence and felicity.</p>
+
+<p>"I crossed the river this morning. My impatience would not suffer me to
+wait till evening. Considering the desolation of the city, I thought I
+might venture to approach thus near, without hazard of detection. The
+house, at all its avenues, was closed. I stole into the back court. A
+window-shutter proved to be unfastened. I entered, and discovered
+closets and cabinets unfastened and emptied of all their contents. At
+this spectacle my heart sunk. My books, doubtless, had shared the common
+destiny. My blood throbbed with painful vehemence as I approached the
+study and opened the door.</p>
+
+<p>"My hopes, that languished for a moment, were revived by the sight of my
+shelves, furnished as formerly. I had lighted my candle below, for I
+desired not to awaken observation and suspicion by unclosing the
+windows. My eye eagerly sought the spot where I remembered to have left
+the volume. Its place was empty. The object of all my hopes had eluded
+my grasp, and disappeared forever.</p>
+
+<p>"To paint my confusion, to repeat my execrations on the infatuation
+which had rendered, during so long a time that it was in my possession,
+this treasure useless to me, and my curses of the fatal interference
+which had snatched away the prize, would be only aggravations of my
+disappointment and my sorrow. You found me in this state, and know what
+followed."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>This narrative threw new light on the character of Welbeck. If accident
+had given him possession of this treasure, it was easy to predict on
+what schemes of luxury and selfishness it would have been expended. The
+same dependence on the world's erroneous estimation, the same devotion
+to imposture, and thoughtlessness of futurity, would have constituted
+the picture of his future life, as had distinguished the past.</p>
+
+<p>This money was another's. To retain it for his own use was criminal. Of
+this crime he appeared to be as insensible as ever. His own
+gratification was the supreme law of his actions. To be subjected to the
+necessity of honest labour was the heaviest of all evils, and one from
+which he was willing to escape by the commission of suicide.</p>
+
+<p>The volume which he sought was mine. It was my duty to restore it to the
+rightful owner, or, if the legal claimant could not be found, to employ
+it in the promotion of virtue and happiness. To give it to Welbeck was
+to consecrate it to the purpose of selfishness and misery. My right,
+legally considered, was as valid as his.</p>
+
+<p>But, if I intended not to resign it to him, was it proper to disclose
+the truth and explain by whom the volume was purloined from the shelf?
+The first impulse was to hide this truth; but my understanding had been
+taught, by recent occurrences, to question the justice and deny the
+usefulness of secrecy in any case. My principles were true; my motives
+were pure: why should I scruple to avow my principles and vindicate my
+actions?</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck had ceased to be dreaded or revered. That awe which was once
+created by his superiority of age, refinement of manners, and dignity
+of garb, had vanished. I was a boy in years, an indigent and uneducated
+rustic; but I was able to discern the illusions of power and riches, and
+abjured every claim to esteem that was not founded on integrity. There
+was no tribunal before which I should falter in asserting the truth, and
+no species of martyrdom which I would not cheerfully embrace in its
+cause.</p>
+
+<p>After some pause, I said, "Cannot you conjecture in what way this volume
+has disappeared?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," he answered, with a sigh. "Why, of all his volumes, this only
+should have vanished, was an inexplicable enigma."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," said I, "it is less important to know how it was removed,
+than by whom it is now possessed."</p>
+
+<p>"Unquestionably; and yet, unless that knowledge enables me to regain the
+possession, it will be useless."</p>
+
+<p>"Useless then it will be, for the present possessor will never return it
+to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed," replied he, in a tone of dejection, "your conjecture is most
+probable. Such a prize is of too much value to be given up."</p>
+
+<p>"What I have said flows not from conjecture, but from knowledge. I know
+that it will never be restored to you."</p>
+
+<p>At these words, Welbeck looked at me with anxiety and doubt:&mdash;"You
+<i>know</i> that it will not! Have you any knowledge of the book? Can you
+tell me what has become of it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. After our separation on the river, I returned to this house. I
+found this volume and secured it. You rightly suspected its contents.
+The money was there."</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck started as if he had trodden on a mine of gold. His first
+emotion was rapturous, but was immediately chastened by some degree of
+doubt:&mdash;"What has become of it? Have you got it? Is it entire? Have you
+it with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is unimpaired. I have got it, and shall hold it as a sacred trust
+for the rightful proprietor."</p>
+
+<p>The tone with which this declaration was accompanied shook the new-born
+confidence of Welbeck. "The rightful proprietor! true, but I am he. To
+me only it belongs, and to me you are, doubtless, willing to restore
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Welbeck! It is not my desire to give you perplexity or anguish; to
+sport with your passions. On the supposition of your death, I deemed it
+no infraction of justice to take this manuscript. Accident unfolded its
+contents. I could not hesitate to choose my path. The natural and legal
+successor of Vincentio Lodi is his sister. To her, therefore, this
+property belongs, and to her only will I give it."</p>
+
+<p>"Presumptuous boy! And this is your sage decision. I tell you that I am
+the owner, and to me you shall render it. Who is this girl? Childish and
+ignorant! Unable to consult and to act for herself on the most trivial
+occasion. Am I not, by the appointment of her dying brother, her
+protector and guardian? Her age produces a legal incapacity of property.
+Do you imagine that so obvious an expedient as that of procuring my
+legal appointment as her guardian was overlooked by me? If it were
+neglected, still my title to provide her subsistence and enjoyment is
+unquestionable.</p>
+
+<p>"Did I not rescue her from poverty, and prostitution, and infamy? Have I
+not supplied all her wants with incessant solicitude? Whatever her
+condition required has been plenteously supplied. The dwelling and its
+furniture was hers, as far a rigid jurisprudence would permit. To
+prescribe her expenses and govern her family was the province of her
+guardian.</p>
+
+<p>"You have heard the tale of my anguish and despair. Whence did they flow
+but from the frustration of schemes projected for her benefit, as they
+were executed with her money and by means which the authority of her
+guardian fully justified? Why have I encountered this contagious
+atmosphere, and explored my way, like a thief, to this recess, but with
+a view to rescue her from poverty and restore to her her own?</p>
+
+<p>"Your scruples are ridiculous and criminal. I treat them with less
+severity, because your youth is raw and your conceptions crude. But if,
+after this proof of the justice of my claim, you hesitate to restore the
+money, I shall treat you as a robber, who has plundered my cabinet and
+refused to refund his spoil."</p>
+
+<p>These reasonings were powerful and new. I was acquainted with the rights
+of guardianship. Welbeck had, in some respects, acted as the friend of
+this lady. To vest himself with this office was the conduct which her
+youth and helplessness prescribed to her friend. His title to this
+money, as her guardian, could not be denied.</p>
+
+<p>But how was this statement compatible with former representations? No
+mention had then been made of guardianship. By thus acting, he would
+have thwarted all his schemes for winning the esteem of mankind and
+fostering the belief which the world entertained of his opulence and
+independence.</p>
+
+<p>I was thrown, by these thoughts, into considerable perplexity. If his
+statement were true, his claim to this money was established; but I
+questioned its truth. To intimate my doubts of his veracity would be to
+provoke abhorrence and outrage.</p>
+
+<p>His last insinuation was peculiarly momentous. Suppose him the
+fraudulent possessor of this money: shall I be justified in taking it
+away by violence under pretence of restoring it to the genuine
+proprietor, who, for aught I know, may be dead, or with whom, at least,
+I may never procure a meeting? But will not my behaviour on this
+occasion be deemed illicit? I entered Welbeck's habitation at midnight,
+proceeded to his closet, possessed myself of portable property, and
+retired unobserved. Is not guilt imputable to an action like this?</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck waited with impatience for a conclusion to my pause. My
+perplexity and indecision did not abate, and my silence continued. At
+length, he repeated his demands, with new vehemence. I was compelled to
+answer. I told him, in few words, that his reasonings had not convinced
+me of the equity of his claim, and that my determination was unaltered.</p>
+
+<p>He had not expected this inflexibility from one in my situation. The
+folly of opposition, when my feebleness and loneliness were contrasted
+with his activity and resources, appeared to him monstrous and glaring;
+but his contempt was converted into rage and fear when he reflected
+that this folly might finally defeat his hopes. He had probably
+determined to obtain the money, let the purchase cost what it would, but
+was willing to exhaust pacific expedients before he should resort to
+force. He might likewise question whether the money was within his
+reach. I had told him that I had it, but whether it was now about me was
+somewhat dubious; yet, though he used no direct inquiries, he chose to
+proceed on the supposition of its being at hand. His angry tones were
+now changed into those of remonstrance and persuasion:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Your present behaviour, Mervyn, does not justify the expectation I had
+formed of you. You have been guilty of a base theft. To this you have
+added the deeper crime of ingratitude, but your infatuation and folly
+are, at least, as glaring as your guilt. Do you think I can credit your
+assertions that you keep this money for another, when I recollect that
+six weeks have passed since you carried it off? Why have you not sought
+the owner and restored it to her? If your intentions had been honest,
+would you have suffered so long a time to elapse without doing this? It
+is plain that you designed to keep it for your own use.</p>
+
+<p>"But, whether this were your purpose or not, you have no longer power to
+restore it or retain it. You say that you came hither to die. If so,
+what is to be the fate of the money? In your present situation you
+cannot gain access to the lady. Some other must inherit this wealth.
+Next to <i>Signora Lodi</i>, whose right can be put in competition with mine?
+But, if you will not give it to me on my own account, let it be given in
+trust for her. Let me be the bearer of it to her own hands. I have
+already shown you that my claim to it, as her guardian, is legal and
+incontrovertible, but this claim I waive. I will merely be the executor
+of your will. I will bind myself to comply with your directions by any
+oath, however solemn and tremendous, which you shall prescribe."</p>
+
+<p>As long as my own heart acquitted me, these imputations of dishonesty
+affected me but little. They excited no anger, because they originated
+in ignorance, and were rendered plausible to Welbeck by such facts as
+were known to him. It was needless to confute the charge by elaborate
+and circumstantial details.</p>
+
+<p>It was true that my recovery was, in the highest degree, improbable, and
+that my death would put an end to my power over this money; but had I
+not determined to secure its useful application in case of my death?
+This project was obstructed by the presence of Welbeck; but I hoped that
+his love of life would induce him to fly. He might wrest this volume
+from me by violence, or he might wait till my death should give him
+peaceable possession. But these, though probable events, were not
+certain, and would, by no means, justify the voluntary surrender. His
+strength, if employed for this end, could not be resisted; but then it
+would be a sacrifice, not a choice, but necessity.</p>
+
+<p>Promises were easily given, but were surely not to be confided in.
+Welbeck's own tale, in which it could not be imagined that he had
+aggravated his defects, attested the frailty of his virtue. To put into
+his hands a sum like this, in expectation of his delivering it to
+another, when my death would cover the transaction with impenetrable
+secrecy, would be, indeed, a proof of that infatuation which he thought
+proper to impute to me.</p>
+
+<p>These thoughts influenced my resolutions, but they were revolved in
+silence. To state them verbally was useless. They would not justify my
+conduct in his eyes. They would only exasperate dispute, and impel him
+to those acts of violence which I was desirous of preventing. The sooner
+this controversy should end, and I in any measure be freed from the
+obstruction of his company, the better.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Welbeck," said I, "my regard to your safety compels me to wish that
+this interview should terminate. At a different time, I should not be
+unwilling to discuss this matter. Now it will be fruitless. My
+conscience points out to me too clearly the path I should pursue for me
+to mistake it. As long as I have power over this money, I shall keep it
+for the use of the unfortunate lady whom I have seen in this house. I
+shall exert myself to find her; but, if that be impossible, I shall
+appropriate it in a way in which you shall have no participation."</p>
+
+<p>I will not repeat the contest that succeeded between my forbearance and
+his passions. I listened to the dictates of his rage and his avarice in
+silence. Astonishment at my inflexibility was blended with his anger. By
+turns he commented on the guilt and on the folly of my resolutions.
+Sometimes his emotions would mount into fury, and he would approach me
+in a menacing attitude, and lift his hand as if he would exterminate me
+at a blow. My languid eyes, my cheeks glowing and my temples throbbing
+with fever, and my total passiveness, attracted his attention and
+arrested his stroke. Compassion would take the place of rage, and the
+belief be revived that remonstrances and arguments would answer his
+purpose.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXIII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>This scene lasted I know not how long. Insensibly the passions and
+reasonings of Welbeck assumed a new form. A grief, mingled with
+perplexity, overspread his countenance. He ceased to contend or to
+speak. His regards were withdrawn from me, on whom they had hitherto
+been fixed; and, wandering or vacant, testified a conflict of mind
+terrible beyond any that my young imagination had ever conceived.</p>
+
+<p>For a time he appeared to be unconscious of my presence. He moved to and
+fro with unequal steps, and with gesticulations that possessed a
+horrible but indistinct significance. Occasionally he struggled for
+breath, and his efforts were directed to remove some choking impediment.</p>
+
+<p>No test of my fortitude had hitherto occurred equal to that to which it
+was now subjected. The suspicion which this deportment suggested was
+vague and formless. The tempest which I witnessed was the prelude of
+horror. These were throes which would terminate in the birth of some
+gigantic and sanguinary purpose. Did he meditate to offer a bloody
+sacrifice? Was his own death or was mine to attest the magnitude of his
+despair or the impetuosity of his vengeance?</p>
+
+<p>Suicide was familiar to his thoughts. He had consented to live but on
+one condition; that of regaining possession of this money. Should I be
+justified in driving him, by my obstinate refusal, to this fatal
+consummation of his crimes? Yet my fear of this catastrophe was
+groundless. Hitherto he had argued and persuaded; but this method was
+pursued because it was more eligible than the employment of force, or
+than procrastination.</p>
+
+<p>No. These were tokens that pointed to me. Some unknown instigation was
+at work within him, to tear away his remnant of humanity and fit him for
+the office of my murderer. I knew not how the accumulation of guilt
+could contribute to his gratification or security. His actions had been
+partially exhibited and vaguely seen. What extenuations or omissions had
+vitiated his former or recent narrative; how far his actual performances
+were congenial with the deed which was now to be perpetrated, I knew
+not.</p>
+
+<p>These thoughts lent new rapidity to my blood. I raised my head from the
+pillow, and watched the deportment of this man with deeper attention.
+The paroxysm which controlled him at length, in some degree, subsided.
+He muttered, "Yes. It must come. My last humiliation must cover me. My
+last confession must be made. To die, and leave behind me this train of
+enormous perils, must not be.</p>
+
+<p>"O Clemenza! O Mervyn! Ye have not merited that I should leave you a
+legacy of persecution and death. Your safety must be purchased at what
+price my malignant destiny will set upon it. The cord of the
+executioner, the note of everlasting infamy, is better than to leave you
+beset by the consequences of my guilt. It must not be."</p>
+
+<p>Saying this, Welbeck cast fearful glances at the windows and door. He
+examined every avenue and listened. Thrice he repeated this scrutiny.
+Having, as it seemed, ascertained that no one lurked within audience, he
+approached the bed. He put his mouth close to my face. He attempted to
+speak, but once more examined the apartment with suspicious glances.</p>
+
+<p>He drew closer, and at length, in a tone scarcely articulate, and
+suffocated with emotion, he spoke:&mdash;"Excellent but fatally-obstinate
+youth! Know at least the cause of my importunity. Know at least the
+depth of my infatuation and the enormity of my guilt.</p>
+
+<p>"The bills&mdash;surrender them to me, and save yourself from persecution and
+disgrace. Save the woman whom you wish to benefit, from the blackest
+imputations; from hazard to her life and her fame; from languishing in
+dungeons; from expiring on the gallows!</p>
+
+<p>"The bills&mdash;oh, save me from the bitterness of death! Let the evils to
+which my miserable life has given birth terminate here and in myself.
+Surrender them to me, for&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>There he stopped. His utterence was choked by terror. Rapid glances were
+again darted at the windows and door. The silence was uninterrupted,
+except by far-off sounds, produced by some moving carriage. Once more he
+summoned resolution, and spoke:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Surrender them to me&mdash;for&mdash;<i>they are forged</i>!</p>
+
+<p>"Formerly I told you, that a scheme of forgery had been conceived. Shame
+would not suffer me to add, that my scheme was carried into execution.
+The bills were fashioned, but my fears contended against my necessities,
+and forbade me to attempt to exchange them. The interview with Lodi
+saved me from the dangerous experiment. I enclosed them in that volume,
+as the means of future opulence, to be used when all other and less
+hazardous resources should fail.</p>
+
+<p>"In the agonies of my remorse at the death of Watson, they were
+forgotten. They afterwards recurred to recollection. My wishes pointed
+to the grave; but the stroke that should deliver me from life was
+suspended only till I could hasten hither, get possession of these
+papers, and destroy them.</p>
+
+<p>"When I thought upon the chances that should give them an owner; bring
+them into circulation; load the innocent with suspicion; and lead them
+to trial, and, perhaps, to death, my sensations were fraught with agony;
+earnestly as I panted for death, it was necessarily deferred till I had
+gained possession of and destroyed these papers.</p>
+
+<p>"What now remains? You have found them. Happily they have not been used.
+Give them, therefore, to me, that I may crush at once the brood of
+mischiefs which they could not but generate."</p>
+
+<p>This disclosure was strange. It was accompanied with every token of
+sincerity. How had I tottered on the brink of destruction! If I had made
+use of this money, in what a labyrinth of misery might I not have been
+involved! My innocence could never have been proved. An alliance with
+Welbeck could not have failed to be inferred. My career would have found
+an ignominious close; or, if my punishment had been transmuted into
+slavery and toil, would the testimony of my conscience have supported
+me?</p>
+
+<p>I shuddered at the view of those disasters from which I was rescued by
+the miraculous chance which led me to this house. Welbeck's request was
+salutary to me and honourable to himself. I could not hesitate a moment
+in compliance. The notes were enclosed in paper, and deposited in a fold
+of my clothes. I put my hand upon them.</p>
+
+<p>My motion and attention were arrested, at the instant, by a noise which
+arose in the street. Footsteps were heard upon the pavement before the
+door, and voices, as if busy in discourse. This incident was adapted to
+infuse the deepest alarm into myself and my companion. The motives of
+our trepidation were, indeed, different, and were infinitely more
+powerful in my case than in his. It portended to me nothing less than
+the loss of my asylum, and condemnation to an hospital.</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck hurried to the door, to listen to the conversation below. This
+interval was pregnant with thought. That impulse which led my
+reflections from Welbeck to my own state passed away in a moment, and
+suffered me to meditate anew upon the terms of that confession which had
+just been made.</p>
+
+<p>Horror at the fate which this interview had enabled me to shun was
+uppermost in my conceptions. I was eager to surrender these fatal bills.
+I held them for that purpose in my hand, and was impatient for Welbeck's
+return. He continued at the door; stooping, with his face averted, and
+eagerly attentive to the conversation in the street.</p>
+
+<p>All the circumstances of my present situation tended to arrest the
+progress of thought and chain my contemplations to one image; but even
+now there was room for foresight and deliberation. Welbeck intended to
+destroy these bills. Perhaps he had not been sincere; or, if his
+purpose had been honestly disclosed, this purpose might change when the
+bills were in his possession. His poverty and sanguineness of temper
+might prompt him to use them.</p>
+
+<p>That this conduct was evil, and would only multiply his miseries, could
+not be questioned. Why should I subject his frailty to this temptation?
+The destruction of these bills was the loudest injunction of my duty;
+was demanded by every sanction which bound me to promote the welfare of
+mankind.</p>
+
+<p>The means of destruction was easy. A lighted candle stood on a table, at
+the distance of a few yards. Why should I hesitate a moment to
+annihilate so powerful a cause of error and guilt? A passing instant was
+sufficient. A momentary lingering might change the circumstances that
+surrounded me, and frustrate my project.</p>
+
+<p>My languors were suspended by the urgencies of this occasion. I started
+from my bed and glided to the table. Seizing the notes with my right
+hand, I held them in the flame of the candle, and then threw them,
+blazing, on the floor.</p>
+
+<p>The sudden illumination was perceived by Welbeck. The cause of it
+appeared to suggest itself as soon. He turned, and, marking the paper
+where it lay, leaped to the spot, and extinguished the fire with his
+foot. His interposition was too late. Only enough of them remained to
+inform him of the nature of the sacrifice.</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck now stood, with limbs trembling, features aghast, and eyes
+glaring upon me. For a time he was without speech. The storm was
+gathering in silence, and at length burst upon me. In a tone menacing
+and loud, he exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Wretch! what have you done?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have done justly. These notes were false. You desired to destroy
+them, that they might not betray the innocent. I applauded your purpose,
+and have saved you from the danger of temptation by destroying them
+myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Maniac! Miscreant! To be fooled by so gross an artifice! The notes were
+genuine. The tale of their forgery was false and meant only to wrest
+them from you. Execrable and perverse idiot! Your deed has sealed my
+perdition. It has sealed your own. You shall pay for it with your blood.
+I will slay you by inches. I will stretch you, as you have stretched me,
+on the rack."</p>
+
+<p>During this speech, all was frenzy and storm in the countenance and
+features of Welbeck. Nothing less could be expected than that the scene
+would terminate in some bloody catastrophe. I bitterly regretted the
+facility with which I had been deceived, and the precipitation of my
+sacrifice. The act, however lamentable, could not be revoked. What
+remained but to encounter or endure its consequences with unshrinking
+firmness?</p>
+
+<p>The contest was too unequal. It is possible that the frenzy which
+actuated Welbeck might have speedily subsided. It is more likely that
+his passions would have been satiated with nothing but my death. This
+event was precluded by loud knocks at the street door, and calls by some
+one on the pavement without, of&mdash;"Who is within? Is any one within?"</p>
+
+<p>These noises gave a new direction to Welbeck's thoughts. "They are
+coming," said he. "They will treat you as a sick man and a thief. I
+cannot desire you to suffer a worse evil than they will inflict. I leave
+you to your fate." So saying, he rushed out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>Though confounded and stunned by this rapid succession of events, I was
+yet able to pursue measures for eluding these detested visitants. I
+first extinguished the light, and then, observing that the parley in the
+street continued and grew louder, I sought an asylum in the remotest
+corner of the house. During my former abode here, I noticed that a
+trap-door opened in the ceiling of the third story, to which you were
+conducted by a movable stair or ladder. I considered that this,
+probably, was an opening into a narrow and darksome nook formed by the
+angle of the roof. By ascending, drawing after me the ladder, and
+closing the door, I should escape the most vigilant search.</p>
+
+<p>Enfeebled as I was by my disease, my resolution rendered me strenuous. I
+gained the uppermost room, and, mounting the ladder, found myself at a
+sufficient distance from suspicion. The stair was hastily drawn up, and
+the door closed. In a few minutes, however, my new retreat proved to be
+worse than any for which it was possible to change it. The air was
+musty, stagnant, and scorchingly hot. My breathing became difficult, and
+I saw that to remain here ten minutes would unavoidably produce
+suffocation.</p>
+
+<p>My terror of intruders had rendered me blind to the consequences of
+immuring myself in this cheerless recess. It was incumbent on me to
+extricate myself as speedily as possible. I attempted to lift the door.
+My first effort was successless. Every inspiration was quicker and more
+difficult than the former. As my terror, so my strength and my exertions
+increased. Finally my trembling hand lighted on a nail that was
+imperfectly driven into the wood, and which, by affording me a firmer
+hold, enabled me at length to raise it, and to inhale the air from
+beneath.</p>
+
+<p>Relieved from my new peril by this situation, I bent an attentive ear
+through the opening, with a view to ascertain if the house had been
+entered or if the outer door was still beset, but could hear nothing.
+Hence I was authorized to conclude that the people had departed, and
+that I might resume my former station without hazard.</p>
+
+<p>Before I descended, however, I cast a curious eye over this recess. It
+was large enough to accommodate a human being. The means by which it was
+entered were easily concealed. Though narrow and low, it was long, and,
+were it possible to contrive some inlet for the air, one studious of
+concealment might rely on its protection with unbounded confidence.</p>
+
+<p>My scrutiny was imperfect by reason of the faint light which found its
+way through the opening; yet it was sufficient to set me afloat on a sea
+of new wonders and subject my fortitude to a new test.&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Here Mervyn paused in his narrative. A minute passed in silence and
+seeming indecision. His perplexities gradually disappeared, and he
+continued:&mdash;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>I have promised to relate the momentous incidents of my life, and have
+hitherto been faithful in my enumeration. There is nothing which I more
+detest than equivocation and mystery. Perhaps, however, I shall now
+incur some imputation of that kind. I would willingly escape the
+accusation, but confess that I am hopeless of escaping it.</p>
+
+<p>I might, indeed, have precluded your guesses and surmises by omitting to
+relate what befell me from the time of my leaving my chamber till I
+regained it. I might deceive you by asserting that nothing remarkable
+occurred; but this would be false, and every sacrifice is trivial which
+is made upon the altar of sincerity. Besides, the time may come when no
+inconvenience will arise from minute descriptions of the objects which I
+now saw, and of the reasonings and inferences which they suggested to my
+understanding. At present, it appears to be my duty to pass them over in
+silence; but it would be needless to conceal from you that the interval,
+though short, and the scrutiny, though hasty, furnished matter which my
+curiosity devoured with unspeakable eagerness, and from which
+consequences may hereafter flow, deciding on my peace and my life.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing, however, occurred which could detain me long in this spot. I
+once more sought the lower story and threw myself on the bed which I had
+left. My mind was thronged with the images flowing from my late
+adventure. My fever had gradually increased, and my thoughts were
+deformed by inaccuracy and confusion.</p>
+
+<p>My heart did not sink when I reverted to my own condition. That I should
+quickly be disabled from moving, was readily perceived. The foresight of
+my destiny was steadfast and clear. To linger for days in this
+comfortless solitude, to ask in vain, not for powerful restoratives or
+alleviating cordials, but for water to moisten my burning lips and abate
+the torments of thirst; ultimately to expire in torpor or frenzy, was
+the fate to which I looked forward; yet I was not terrified. I seemed to
+be sustained by a preternatural energy. I felt as if the opportunity of
+combating such evils was an enviable privilege, and, though none would
+witness my victorious magnanimity, yet to be conscious that praise was
+my due was all that my ambition required.</p>
+
+<p>These sentiments were doubtless tokens of delirium. The excruciating
+agonies which now seized upon my head, and the cord which seemed to be
+drawn across my breast, and which, as my fancy imagined, was tightened
+by some forcible hand, with a view to strangle me, were incompatible
+with sober and coherent views.</p>
+
+<p>Thirst was the evil which chiefly oppressed me. The means of relief was
+pointed out by nature and habit. I rose, and determined to replenish my
+pitcher at the well. It was easier, however, to descend than to return.
+My limbs refused to bear me, and I sat down upon the lower step of the
+staircase. Several hours had elapsed since my entrance into this
+dwelling, and it was now night.</p>
+
+<p>My imagination now suggested a new expedient. Medlicote was a generous
+and fearless spirit. To put myself under his protection, if I could walk
+as far as his lodgings, was the wisest proceeding which I could adopt.
+From this design, my incapacity to walk thus far, and the consequences
+of being discovered in the street, had hitherto deterred me. These
+impediments were now, in the confusion of my understanding, overlooked
+or despised, and I forthwith set out upon this hopeless expedition.</p>
+
+<p>The doors communicating with the court, and, through the court, with the
+street, were fastened by inside bolts. These were easily withdrawn, and
+I issued forth with alacrity and confidence. My perturbed senses and the
+darkness hindered me from discerning the right way. I was conscious of
+this difficulty, but was not disheartened. I proceeded, as I have since
+discovered, in a direction different from the true, but hesitated not
+till my powers were exhausted and I sunk upon the ground. I closed my
+eyes, and dismissed all fear, and all foresight of futurity. In this
+situation I remained some hours, and should probably have expired on
+this spot, had not I attracted your notice, and been provided, under
+this roof, with all that medical skill, that the tenderest humanity
+could suggest.</p>
+
+<p>In consequence of your care, I have been restored to life and to health.
+Your conduct was not influenced by the prospect of pecuniary recompense,
+of service, or of gratitude. It is only in one way that I am able to
+heighten the gratification which must flow from reflection on your
+conduct:&mdash;by showing that the being whose life you have prolonged,
+though uneducated, ignorant, and poor, is not profligate and worthless,
+and will not dedicate that life which your bounty has given, to
+mischievous or contemptible purposes.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center" style="margin-top: 5em;">END OF VOL I.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>ARTHUR MERVYN;</h2>
+
+<h4>OR,</h4>
+
+<h3>MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 1793.</h3>
+
+<h5>VOL. II.</h5>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>ARTHUR MERVYN.</h2>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXIV.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Here ended the narrative of Mervyn. Surely its incidents were of no
+common kind. During this season of pestilence, my opportunities of
+observation had been numerous, and I had not suffered them to pass
+unimproved. The occurrences which fell within my own experience bore a
+general resemblance to those which had just been related, but they did
+not hinder the latter from striking on my mind with all the force of
+novelty. They served no end, but as vouchers for the truth of the tale.</p>
+
+<p>Surely the youth had displayed inimitable and heroic qualities. His
+courage was the growth of benevolence and reason, and not the child of
+insensibility and the nursling of habit. He had been qualified for the
+encounter of gigantic dangers by no laborious education. He stepped
+forth upon the stage, unfurnished, by anticipation or experience, with
+the means of security against fraud; and yet, by the aid of pure
+intentions, had frustrated the wiles of an accomplished and veteran
+deceiver.</p>
+
+<p>I blessed the chance which placed the youth under my protection. When I
+reflected on that tissue of nice contingencies which led him to my door,
+and enabled me to save from death a being of such rare endowments, my
+heart overflowed with joy, not unmingled with regrets and trepidation.
+How many have been cut off by this disease, in their career of virtue
+and their blossom-time of genius! How many deeds of heroism and
+self-devotion are ravished from existence, and consigned to hopeless
+oblivion!</p>
+
+<p>I had saved the life of this youth. This was not the limit of my duty or
+my power. Could I not render that life profitable to himself and to
+mankind? The gains of my profession were slender; but these gains were
+sufficient for his maintenance as well as my own. By residing with me,
+partaking my instructions, and reading my books, he would, in a few
+years, be fitted for the practice of physic. A science whose truths are
+so conducive to the welfare of mankind, and which comprehends the whole
+system of nature, could not but gratify a mind so beneficent and
+strenuous as his.</p>
+
+<p>This scheme occurred to me as soon as the conclusion of his tale allowed
+me to think. I did not immediately mention it, since the approbation of
+my wife, of whose concurrence, however, I entertained no doubt, was
+previously to be obtained. Dismissing it, for the present, from my
+thoughts, I reverted to the incidents of his tale.</p>
+
+<p>The lady whom Welbeck had betrayed and deserted was not unknown to me. I
+was but too well acquainted with her fate. If she had been single in
+calamity, her tale would have been listened to with insupportable
+sympathy; but the frequency of the spectacle of distress seems to lessen
+the compassion with which it is reviewed. Now that those scenes are only
+remembered, my anguish is greater than when they were witnessed. Then
+every new day was only a repetition of the disasters of the foregoing.
+My sensibility, if not extinguished, was blunted; and I gazed upon the
+complicated ills of poverty and sickness with a degree of unconcern on
+which I should once have reflected with astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>The fate of Clemenza Lodi was not, perhaps, more signal than many which
+have occurred. It threw detestable light upon the character of Welbeck,
+and showed him to be more inhuman than the tale of Mervyn had evinced
+him to be. That man, indeed, was hitherto imperfectly seen. The time had
+not come which should fully unfold the enormity of his transgressions
+and the complexity of his frauds.</p>
+
+<p>There lived in a remote quarter of the city a woman, by name Villars,
+who passed for the widow of an English officer. Her manners and mode of
+living were specious. She had three daughters, well trained in the
+school of fashion, and elegant in person, manners, and dress. They had
+lately arrived from Europe, and, for a time, received from their
+neighbours that respect to which their education and fortune appeared to
+lay claim.</p>
+
+<p>The fallacy of their pretensions slowly appeared. It began to be
+suspected that their subsistence was derived not from pension or
+patrimony, but from the wages of pollution. Their habitation was
+clandestinely frequented by men who were unfaithful to their secret; one
+of these was allied to me by ties which authorized me in watching his
+steps and detecting his errors, with a view to his reformation. From him
+I obtained a knowledge of the genuine character of these women.</p>
+
+<p>A man like Welbeck, who was the slave of depraved appetites, could not
+fail of being quickly satiated with innocence and beauty. Some accident
+introduced him to the knowledge of this family, and the youngest
+daughter found him a proper subject on which to exercise her artifices.
+It was to the frequent demands made upon his purse, by this woman, that
+part of the embarrassments in which Mervyn found him involved are to be
+ascribed.</p>
+
+<p>To this circumstance must likewise be imputed his anxiety to transfer to
+some other the possession of the unhappy stranger. Why he concealed from
+Mervyn his connection with Lucy Villars may be easily imagined. His
+silence with regard to Clemenza's asylum will not create surprise, when
+it was told that she was placed with Mrs. Villars. On what conditions
+she was received under this roof, cannot be so readily conjectured. It
+is obvious, however, to suppose that advantage was to be taken of her
+ignorance and weakness, and that they hoped, in time, to make her an
+associate in their profligate schemes.</p>
+
+<p>The appearance of pestilence, meanwhile, threw them into panic, and they
+hastened to remove from danger. Mrs. Villars appears to have been a
+woman of no ordinary views. She stooped to the vilest means of amassing
+money; but this money was employed to secure to herself and her
+daughters the benefits of independence. She purchased the house which
+she occupied in the city, and a mansion in the environs, well built and
+splendidly furnished. To the latter, she and her family, of which the
+Italian girl was now a member, retired at the close of July.</p>
+
+<p>I have mentioned that the source of my intelligence was a kinsman, who
+had been drawn from the paths of sobriety and rectitude by the
+impetuosity of youthful passions. He had power to confess and deplore,
+but none to repair, his errors. One of these women held him by a spell
+which he struggled in vain to dissolve, and by which, in spite of
+resolutions and remorses, he was drawn to her feet, and made to
+sacrifice to her pleasure his reputation and his fortune.</p>
+
+<p>My house was his customary abode during those intervals in which he was
+persuaded to pursue his profession. Some time before the infection began
+its progress, he had disappeared. No tidings were received of him, till
+a messenger arrived, entreating my assistance. I was conducted to the
+house of Mrs. Villars, in which I found no one but my kinsman. Here, it
+seems, he had immured himself from my inquiries, and, on being seized by
+the reigning malady, had been deserted by the family, who, ere they
+departed, informed me by a messenger of his condition.</p>
+
+<p>Despondency combined with his disease to destroy him. Before he died, he
+informed me fully of the character of his betrayers. The late arrival,
+name, and personal condition of Clemenza Lodi were related. Welbeck was
+not named, but was described in terms which, combined with the narrative
+of Mervyn, enabled me to recognise the paramour of Lucy Villars in the
+man whose crimes had been the principal theme of our discourse.</p>
+
+<p>Mervyn's curiosity was greatly roused when I intimated my acquaintance
+with the fate of Clemenza. In answer to his eager interrogations, I
+related what I knew. The tale plunged him into reverie. Recovering, at
+length, from his thoughtfulness, he spoke:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Her condition is perilous. The poverty of Welbeck will drive him far
+from her abode. Her profligate protectors will entice her or abandon her
+to ruin. Cannot she be saved?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know not," answered I, "by what means."</p>
+
+<p>"The means are obvious. Let her remove to some other dwelling. Let her
+be apprized of the vices of those who surround her. Let her be entreated
+to fly. The will need only be inspired, the danger need only be shown,
+and she is safe, for she will remove beyond its reach."</p>
+
+<p>"Thou art an adventurous youth. Who wilt thou find to undertake the
+office? Who will be persuaded to enter the house of a stranger, seek
+without an introduction the presence of this girl, tell her that the
+house she inhabits is a house of prostitution, prevail on her to believe
+the tale, and persuade her to accompany him? Who will open his house to
+the fugitive? Whom will you convince that her illicit intercourse with
+Welbeck, of which the opprobrious tokens cannot be concealed, has not
+fitted her for the company of prostitutes, and made her unworthy of
+protection? Who will adopt into their family a stranger whose conduct
+has incurred infamy, and whose present associates have, no doubt, made
+her worthy of the curse?"</p>
+
+<p>"True. These are difficulties which I did not foresee. Must she then
+perish? Shall not something be done to rescue her from infamy and
+guilt?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is neither in your power nor in mine to do any thing."</p>
+
+<p>The lateness of the hour put an end to our conversation and summoned us
+to repose. I seized the first opportunity of imparting to my wife the
+scheme which had occurred, relative to our guest; with which, as I
+expected, she readily concurred. In the morning, I mentioned it to
+Mervyn. I dwelt upon the benefits that adhered to the medical
+profession, the power which it confers of lightening the distresses of
+our neighbours, the dignity which popular opinion annexes to it, the
+avenue which it opens to the acquisition of competence, the freedom from
+servile cares which attends it, and the means of intellectual
+gratification with which it supplies us.</p>
+
+<p>As I spoke, his eyes sparkled with joy. "Yes," said he, with vehemence,
+"I willingly embrace your offer. I accept this benefit, because I know
+that, if my pride should refuse it, I should prove myself less worthy
+than you think, and give you pain, instead of that pleasure which I am
+bound to confer. I would enter on the duties and studies of my new
+profession immediately; but somewhat is due to Mr. Hadwin and his
+daughters. I cannot vanquish my inquietudes respecting them, but by
+returning to Malverton and ascertaining their state with my own eyes.
+You know in what circumstances I parted with Wallace and Mr. Hadwin. I
+am not sure that either of them ever reached home, or that they did not
+carry the infection along with them. I now find myself sufficiently
+strong to perform the journey, and purposed to have acquainted you, at
+this interview, with my intentions. An hour's delay is superfluous, and
+I hope you will consent to my setting out immediately. Rural exercise
+and air, for a week or fortnight, will greatly contribute to my health."</p>
+
+<p>No objection could be made to this scheme. His narrative had excited no
+common affection in our bosoms for the Hadwins. His visit could not only
+inform us of their true state, but would dispel that anxiety which they
+could not but entertain respecting our guest. It was a topic of some
+surprise that neither Wallace nor Hadwin had returned to the city, with
+a view to obtain some tidings of their friend. It was more easy to
+suppose them to have been detained by some misfortune, than by
+insensibility or indolence. In a few minutes Mervyn bade us adieu, and
+set out upon his journey, promising to acquaint us with the state of
+affairs as soon as possible after his arrival. We parted from him with
+reluctance, and found no consolation but in the prospect of his speedy
+return.</p>
+
+<p>During his absence, conversation naturally turned upon those topics
+which were suggested by the narrative and deportment of this youth.
+Different conclusions were formed by his two auditors. They had both
+contracted a deep interest in his welfare, and an ardent curiosity as to
+those particulars which his unfinished story had left in obscurity. The
+true character and actual condition of Welbeck were themes of much
+speculation. Whether he were dead or alive, near or distant from his
+ancient abode, was a point on which neither Mervyn, nor any of those
+with whom I had means of intercourse, afforded any information. Whether
+he had shared the common fate, and had been carried by the collectors of
+the dead from the highway or the hovel to the pits opened alike for the
+rich and the poor, the known and the unknown; whether he had escaped to
+a foreign shore, or were destined to reappear upon this stage, were
+questions involved in uncertainty.</p>
+
+<p>The disappearance of Watson would, at a different time, have excited
+much inquiry and suspicion; but, as this had taken place on the eve of
+the epidemic, his kindred and friends would acquiesce, without scruple,
+in the belief that he had been involved in the general calamity, and was
+to be numbered among the earliest victims. Those of his profession
+usually resided in the street where the infection began, and where its
+ravages had been most destructive; and this circumstance would
+corroborate the conclusions of his friends.</p>
+
+<p>I did not perceive any immediate advantage to flow from imparting the
+knowledge I had lately gained to others. Shortly after Mervyn's
+departure to Malverton, I was visited by Wortley. Inquiring for my
+guest, I told him that, having recovered his health, he had left my
+house. He repeated his invectives against the villany of Welbeck, his
+suspicions of Mervyn, and his wishes for another interview with the
+youth. Why had I suffered him to depart, and whither had he gone?</p>
+
+<p>"He has gone for a short time into the country. I expect him to return
+in less than a week, when you will meet with him here as often as you
+please, for I expect him to take up his abode in this house."</p>
+
+<p>Much astonishment and disapprobation were expressed by my friend. I
+hinted that the lad had made disclosures to me, which justified my
+confidence in his integrity. These proofs of his honesty were not of a
+nature to be indiscriminately unfolded. Mervyn had authorized me to
+communicate so much of his story to Wortley, as would serve to vindicate
+him from the charge of being Welbeck's co-partner in fraud; but this end
+would only be counteracted by an imperfect tale, and the full recital,
+though it might exculpate Mervyn, might produce inconveniences by which
+this advantage would be outweighed.</p>
+
+<p>Wortley, as might be naturally expected, was by no means satisfied with
+this statement. He suspected that Mervyn was a wily impostor; that he
+had been trained in the arts of fraud, under an accomplished teacher;
+that the tale which he had told to me was a tissue of ingenious and
+plausible lies; that the mere assertions, however plausible and solemn,
+of one like him, whose conduct had incurred such strong suspicions, were
+unworthy of the least credit.</p>
+
+<p>"It cannot be denied," continued my friend, "that he lived with Welbeck
+at the time of his elopement; that they disappeared together; that they
+entered a boat, at Pine Street wharf, at midnight; that this boat was
+discovered by the owner in the possession of a fisherman at Redbank, who
+affirmed that he had found it stranded near his door, the day succeeding
+that on which they disappeared. Of all this I can supply you with
+incontestable proof. If, after this proof, you can give credit to his
+story, I shall think you made of very perverse and credulous materials."</p>
+
+<p>"The proof you mention," said I, "will only enhance his credibility. All
+the facts which you have stated have been admitted by him. They
+constitute an essential portion of his narrative."</p>
+
+<p>"What then is the inference? Are not these evidences of a compact
+between them? Has he not acknowledged this compact in confessing that he
+knew Welbeck was my debtor; that he was apprized of his flight, but that
+(what matchless effrontery!) he had promised secrecy, and would, by no
+means, betray him? You say he means to return; but of that I doubt. You
+will never see his face more. He is too wise to thrust himself again
+into the noose; but I do not utterly despair of lighting upon Welbeck.
+Old Thetford, Jamieson, and I, have sworn to hunt him through the world.
+I have strong hopes that he has not strayed far. Some intelligence has
+lately been received, which has enabled us to place our hounds upon his
+scent. He may double and skulk; but, if he does not fall into our toils
+at last, he will have the agility and cunning, as well as the malignity,
+of devils."</p>
+
+<p>The vengeful disposition thus betrayed by Wortley was not without
+excuse. The vigour of his days had been spent in acquiring a slender
+capital; his diligence and honesty had succeeded, and he had lately
+thought his situation such as to justify marriage with an excellent
+woman, to whom he had for years been betrothed, but from whom his
+poverty had hitherto compelled him to live separate. Scarcely had this
+alliance taken place, and the full career of nuptial enjoyments begun,
+when his ill fate exposed him to the frauds of Welbeck, and brought him,
+in one evil hour, to the brink of insolvency.</p>
+
+<p>Jamieson and Thetford, however, were rich, and I had not till now been
+informed that they had reasons for pursuing Welbeck with peculiar
+animosity. The latter was the uncle of him whose fate had been related
+by Mervyn, and was one of those who employed money, not as the medium of
+traffic, but as in itself a commodity. He had neither wines nor cloths,
+to transmute into silver. He thought it a tedious process to exchange
+to-day one hundred dollars for a cask or bale, and to-morrow exchange
+the bale or cask for one hundred <i>and ten</i> dollars. It was better to
+give the hundred for a piece of paper, which, carried forthwith to the
+money-changers, he could procure a hundred twenty-three and
+three-fourths. In short, this man's coffers were supplied by the despair
+of honest men and the stratagems of rogues. I did not immediately
+suspect how this man's prudence and indefatigable attention to his own
+interest should allow him to become the dupe of Welbeck.</p>
+
+<p>"What," said I, "is old Thetford's claim upon Welbeck?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is a claim," he replied, "that, if it ever be made good, will doom
+Welbeck to imprisonment and wholesome labour for life."</p>
+
+<p>"How? Surely it is nothing more than debt."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you not heard? But that is no wonder. Happily you are a stranger
+to mercantile anxieties and revolutions. Your fortune does not rest on a
+basis which an untoward blast may sweep away, or four strokes of a pen
+may demolish. That hoary dealer in suspicions was persuaded to put his
+hand to three notes for eight hundred dollars each. The <i>eight</i> was then
+dexterously prolonged to eigh<i>teen</i>; they were duly deposited in time
+and place, and the next day Welbeck was credited for fifty-three hundred
+and seventy-three, which, an hour after, were <i>told out</i> to his
+messenger. Hard to say whether the old man's grief, shame, or rage, be
+uppermost. He disdains all comfort but revenge, and that he will procure
+at any price. Jamieson, who deals in the same <i>stuff</i> with Thetford, was
+outwitted in the same manner, to the same amount, and on the same day.</p>
+
+<p>"This Welbeck must have powers above the common rate of mortals. Grown
+gray in studying the follies and the stratagems of men, these veterans
+were overreached. No one pities them. 'Twere well if his artifices had
+been limited to such, and he had spared the honest and the poor. It is
+for his injuries to men who have earned their scanty subsistence without
+forfeiting their probity, that I hate him, and shall exult to see him
+suffer all the rigours of the law." Here Wortley's engagements compelled
+him to take his leave.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXV.</h3>
+
+
+<p>While musing upon these facts, I could not but reflect with astonishment
+on the narrow escapes which Mervyn's virtue had experienced. I was by no
+means certain that his fame or his life was exempt from all danger, or
+that the suspicions which had already been formed respecting him could
+possibly be wiped away. Nothing but his own narrative, repeated with
+that simple but nervous eloquence which we had witnessed, could rescue
+him from the most heinous charges. Was there any tribunal that would not
+acquit him on merely hearing his defence?</p>
+
+<p>Surely the youth was honest. His tale could not be the fruit of
+invention; and yet, what are the bounds of fraud? Nature has set no
+limits to the combinations of fancy. A smooth exterior, a show of
+virtue, and a specious tale, are, a thousand times, exhibited in human
+intercourse by craft and subtlety. Motives are endlessly varied, while
+actions continue the same; and an acute penetration may not find it hard
+to select and arrange motives, suited to exempt from censure any action
+that a human being can commit.</p>
+
+<p>Had I heard Mervyn's story from another, or read it in a book, I might,
+perhaps, have found it possible to suspect the truth; but, as long as
+the impression made by his tones, gestures, and looks, remained in my
+memory, this suspicion was impossible. Wickedness may sometimes be
+ambiguous, its mask may puzzle the observer; our judgment may be made to
+falter and fluctuate, but the face of Mervyn is the index of an honest
+mind. Calm or vehement, doubting or confident, it is full of benevolence
+and candour. He that listens to his words may question their truth, but
+he that looks upon his countenance when speaking cannot withhold his
+faith.</p>
+
+<p>It was possible, however, to find evidence supporting or confuting his
+story. I chanced to be acquainted with a family, by name Althorpe, who
+were natives of that part of the country where his father resided. I
+paid them a visit, and, after a few preliminaries, mentioned, as if by
+accident, the name of Mervyn. They immediately recognised this name as
+belonging to one of their ancient neighbours. The death of the wife and
+sons, and the seduction of the only daughter by Colvill, with many
+pathetic incidents connected with the fate of this daughter, were
+mentioned.</p>
+
+<p>This intelligence induced me to inquire of Mrs. Althorpe, a sensible and
+candid woman, if she were acquainted with the recent or present
+situation of this family.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot say much," she answered, "of my own knowledge. Since my
+marriage, I am used to spend a few weeks of summer at my father's, but
+am less inquisitive than I once was into the concerns of my old
+neighbours. I recollect, however, when there, last year, during <i>the
+fever</i>, to have heard that Sawny Mervyn had taken a second wife; that
+his only son, a youth of eighteen, had thought proper to be highly
+offended with his father's conduct, and treated the new mistress of the
+house with insult and contempt. I should not much wonder at this, seeing
+children are so apt to deem themselves unjustly treated by a second
+marriage of their parent; but it was hinted that the boy's jealousy and
+discontent were excited by no common cause. The new mother was not much
+older than himself, had been a servant of the family, and a criminal
+intimacy had subsisted between her, while in that condition, and the
+son. Her marriage with his father was justly accounted by their
+neighbours a most profligate and odious transaction. The son, perhaps,
+had, in such a case, a right to scold, but he ought not to have carried
+his anger to such extremes as have been imputed to him. He is said to
+have grinned upon her with contempt, and even to have called her
+<i>strumpet</i> in the presence of his father and of strangers.</p>
+
+<p>"It was impossible for such a family to keep together. Arthur took leave
+one night to possess himself of all his father's cash, mount the best
+horse in his meadow, and elope. For a time, no one knew whither he had
+gone. At last, one was said to have met with him in the streets of this
+city, metamorphosed from a rustic lad into a fine gentleman. Nothing
+could be quicker than this change, for he left the country on a Saturday
+morning, and was seen in a French frock and silk stockings, going into
+Christ's Church the next day. I suppose he kept it up with a high hand,
+as long as his money lasted.</p>
+
+<p>"My lather paid us a visit last week, and, among other country-news,
+told us that Sawny Mervyn had sold his place. His wife had persuaded him
+to try his fortune in the Western country. The price of his hundred
+acres here would purchase a thousand there, and the man, being very
+gross and ignorant, and, withal, quite a simpleton, found no difficulty
+in perceiving that a thousand are ten times more than a hundred. He was
+not aware that a rood of ground upon Schuylkill is tenfold better than
+an acre on the Tennessee.</p>
+
+<p>"The woman turned out to be an artful profligate. Having sold his ground
+and gotten his money, he placed it in her keeping, and she, to enjoy it
+with the more security, ran away to the city; leaving him to prosecute
+his journey to Kentucky moneyless and alone. Some time after, Mr.
+Althorpe and I were at the play, when he pointed out to me a group of
+females in an upper box, one of whom was no other than Betty Lawrence.
+It was not easy to recognise, in her present gaudy trim, all flaunting
+with ribbons and shining with trinkets, the same Betty who used to deal
+out pecks of potatoes and superintend her basket of cantaloupes in the
+Jersey market, in pasteboard bonnet and linsey petticoat. Her companions
+were of the infamous class. If Arthur were still in the city, there is
+no doubt that the mother and son might renew the ancient terms of their
+acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>"The old man, thus robbed and betrayed, sought consolation in the
+bottle, of which he had been at all times over-fond. He wandered from
+one tavern to another till his credit was exhausted, and then was sent
+to jail, where, I believe, he is likely to continue till his death.
+Such, my friend, is the history of the Mervyns."</p>
+
+<p>"What proof," said I, "have you of the immoral conduct of the son? Of
+his mistreatment of his mother, and his elopement with his father's
+horse and money?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have no proof but the unanimous report of Mervyn's neighbours.
+Respectable and honest men have affirmed, in my hearing, that they had
+been present when the boy treated his mother in the way that I have
+described. I was, besides, once in company with the old man, and heard
+him bitterly inveigh against his son, and charge him with the fact of
+stealing his horse and money. I well remember that tears rolled from his
+eyes while talking on the subject. As to his being seen in the city the
+next day after his elopement, dressed in a most costly and fashionable
+manner, I can doubt that as little as the rest, for he that saw him was
+my father, and you, who know my father, know what credit is due to his
+eyes and his word. He had seen Arthur often enough not to be mistaken,
+and described his appearance with great exactness. The boy is extremely
+handsome, give him his due; has dark hazel eyes, auburn hair, and very
+elegant proportions. His air and gait have nothing of the clown in them.
+Take away his jacket and trousers, and you have as spruce a fellow as
+ever came from dancing-school or college. He is the exact picture of his
+mother, and the most perfect contrast to the sturdy legs, squat figure,
+and broad, unthinking, sheepish face of the father that can be imagined.
+You must confess that his appearance here is a pretty strong proof of
+the father's assertions. The money given for these clothes could not
+possibly have been honestly acquired. It is to be presumed that they
+were bought or stolen, for how else should they have been gotten?"</p>
+
+<p>"What was this lad's personal deportment during the life of his mother,
+and before his father's second marriage?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very little to the credit of his heart or his intellects. Being the
+youngest son, the only one who at length survived, and having a
+powerful resemblance to herself, he became the mother's favourite. His
+constitution was feeble, and he loved to stroll in the woods more than
+to plough or sow. This idleness was much against his father's
+inclination and judgment; and, indeed, it was the foundation of all his
+vices. When he could be prevailed upon to do any thing it was in a
+bungling manner, and so as to prove that his thoughts were fixed on any
+thing except his business. When his assistance was wanted he was never
+to be found at hand. They were compelled to search for him among the
+rocks and bushes, and he was generally discovered sauntering along the
+bank of a river, or lolling in the shade of a tree. This disposition to
+inactivity and laziness, in so young a man, was very strange. Persons of
+his age are rarely fond of work, but then they are addicted to company,
+and sports, and exercises. They ride, or shoot, or frolic; but this
+being moped away his time in solitude, never associated with other young
+people, never mounted a horse but when he could not help it, and never
+fired a gun or angled for a fish in his life. Some people supposed him
+to be half an idiot, or, at least, not to be right in his mind; and,
+indeed, his conduct was so very perverse and singular, that I do not
+wonder at those who accounted for it in this way."</p>
+
+<p>"But surely," said I, "he had some object of pursuit. Perhaps he was
+addicted to books."</p>
+
+<p>"Far from it. On the contrary, his aversion to school was as great as
+his hatred of the plough. He never could get his lessons or bear the
+least constraint. He was so much indulged by his mother at home, that
+tasks and discipline of any kind were intolerable. He was a perpetual
+truant; till, the master one day attempting to strike him, he ran out of
+the room and never entered it more. The mother excused and countenanced
+his frowardness, and the foolish father was obliged to give way. I do
+not believe he had two months' schooling in his life."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," said I, "he preferred studying by himself, and at liberty. I
+have known boys endowed with great curiosity and aptitude to learning,
+who never could endure set tasks, and spurned at the pedagogue and his
+rod."</p>
+
+<p>"I have known such likewise, but this was not one of them. I know not
+whence he could derive his love of knowledge or the means of acquiring
+it. The family were totally illiterate. The father was a Scotch peasant,
+whose ignorance was so great that he could not sign his name. His wife,
+I believe, could read, and might sometimes decipher the figures in an
+almanac; but that was all. I am apt to think that the son's ability was
+not much greater. You might as well look for silver platters or marble
+tables in his house, as for a book or a pen.</p>
+
+<p>"I remember calling at their house one evening in the winter before
+last. It was intensely cold; and my father, who rode with me, having
+business with Sawny Mervyn, we stopped a minute at his gate; and, while
+the two old men were engaged in conversation, I begged leave to warm
+myself by the kitchen fire. Here, in the chimney-corner, seated on a
+block, I found Arthur busily engaged in <i>knitting stockings</i>! I thought
+this a whimsical employment for a young active man. I told him so, for I
+wanted to put him to the blush; but he smiled in my face, and answered,
+without the least discomposure, 'Just as whimsical a business for a
+young active woman. Pray, did you never knit a stocking?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Yes; but that was from necessity. Were I of a different sex, or did I
+possess the strength of a man, I should rather work in my field or study
+my book.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Rejoice that you are a woman, then, and are at liberty to pursue that
+which costs least labour and demands most skill. You see, though a man,
+I use your privilege, and prefer knitting yarn to threshing my brain
+with a book or the barn-floor with a flail.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I wonder,' said I, contemptuously, 'you do not put on the petticoat as
+well as handle the needle.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Do not wonder,' he replied; 'it is because I hate a petticoat
+encumbrance as much as I love warm feet. Look there,' (offering the
+stocking to my inspection:) 'is it not well done?'</p>
+
+<p>"I did not touch it, but sneeringly said, 'Excellent! I wonder you do
+not apprentice yourself to a tailor.'</p>
+
+<p>"He looked at me with an air of ridiculous simplicity, and said, 'How
+prone the woman is to <i>wonder</i>! You call the work excellent, and yet
+<i>wonder</i> that I do not make myself a slave to improve my skill! Did you
+learn needlework from seven years' squatting on a tailor's board? Had
+you come to me, I would have taught you in a day.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I was taught at school.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And paid your instructor?'</p>
+
+<p>"'To-be-sure.'</p>
+
+<p>"''Twas liberty and money thrown away. Send your sister, if you have
+one, to me, and I will teach her without either rod or wages. Will you?'</p>
+
+<p>"'You have an old and a violent antipathy, I believe, to any thing like
+a school.'</p>
+
+<p>"'True. It was early and violent. Had not you?'</p>
+
+<p>"'No. I went to school with pleasure; for I thought to read and write
+were accomplishments of some value.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Indeed? Then I misunderstood you just now. I thought you said that,
+had you the strength of a man, you should prefer the plough and the book
+to the needle. Whence, supposing you a female, I inferred that you had a
+woman's love for the needle and a fool's hatred of books.'</p>
+
+<p>"My father calling me from without, I now made a motion to go. 'Stay,'
+continued he, with great earnestness, throwing aside his
+knitting-apparatus, and beginning in great haste to pull off his
+stockings. 'Draw these stockings over your shoes. They will save your
+feet from the snow while walking to your horse.'</p>
+
+<p>"Half angry, and half laughing, I declined the offer. He had drawn them
+off, however, and, holding them in his hand, 'Be persuaded,' said he;
+'only lift your feet, and I will slip them on in a trice.'</p>
+
+<p>"Finding me positive in my refusal, he dropped the stockings; and,
+without more ado, caught me up in his arms, rushed out of the room, and,
+running barefoot through the snow, set me fairly on my horse. All was
+done in a moment, and before I had time to reflect on his intentions. He
+then seized my hand, and, kissing it with great fervour, exclaimed, 'A
+thousand thanks to you for not accepting my stockings. You have thereby
+saved yourself and me the time and toil of drawing on and drawing off.
+Since you have taught me to wonder, let me practise the lesson in
+wondering at your folly, in wearing worsted shoes and silk stockings at
+a season like this. Take my counsel, and turn your silk to worsted and
+your worsted to leather. Then may you hope for warm feet and dry. What!
+Leave the gate without a blessing on your counsellor?'</p>
+
+<p>"I spurred my horse into a gallop, glad to escape from so strange a
+being. I could give you many instances of behaviour equally singular,
+and which betrayed a mixture of shrewdness and folly, of kindness and
+impudence, which justified, perhaps, the common notion that his
+intellects were unsound. Nothing was more remarkable than his
+impenetrability to ridicule and censure. You might revile him for hours,
+and he would listen to you with invincible composure. To awaken anger or
+shame in him was impossible. He would answer, but in such a way as to
+show him totally unaware of your true meaning. He would afterwards talk
+to you with all the smiling affability and freedom of an old friend.
+Every one despised him for his idleness and folly, no less conspicuous
+in his words than his actions; but no one feared him, and few were angry
+with him, till after the detection of his commerce with <i>Betty</i>, and his
+inhuman treatment of his father."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you good reasons for supposing him to have been illicitly
+connected with that girl?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Such as cannot be discredited. It would not be proper for me to
+state these proofs. Nay, he never denied it. When reminded, on one
+occasion, of the inference which every impartial person would draw from
+appearances, he acknowledged, with his usual placid effrontery, that the
+inference was unavoidable. He even mentioned other concurring and
+contemporary incidents, which had eluded the observation of his
+censurer, and which added still more force to the conclusion. He was
+studious to palliate the vices of this woman, as long as he was her only
+paramour; but, after her marriage with his father, the tone was changed.
+He confessed that she was tidy, notable, industrious; but, then, she
+was a prostitute. When charged with being instrumental in making her
+such, and when his companions dwelt upon the depravity of reviling her
+for vices which she owed to him, 'True,' he would say, 'there is
+depravity and folly in the conduct you describe. Make me out, if you
+please, to be a villain. What then? I was talking, not of myself, but of
+Betty. Still this woman is a prostitute. If it were I that made her
+such, with more confidence may I make the charge. But think not that I
+blame Betty. Place me in her situation, and I should have acted just so.
+I should have formed just such notions of my interest, and pursued it by
+the same means. Still, say I, I would fain have a different woman for my
+father's wife, and the mistress of his family.'"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXVI.</h3>
+
+
+<p>This conversation was interrupted by a messenger from my wife, who
+desired my return immediately. I had some hopes of meeting with Mervyn,
+some days having now elapsed since his parting from us, and not being
+conscious of any extraordinary motives for delay. It was Wortley,
+however, and not Mervyn, to whom I was called.</p>
+
+<p>My friend came to share with me his suspicions and inquietudes
+respecting Welbeck and Mervyn. An accident had newly happened which had
+awakened these suspicions afresh. He desired a patient audience while he
+explained them to me. These were his words:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"To-day a person presented me a letter from a mercantile friend at
+Baltimore. I easily discerned the bearer to be a sea-captain. He was a
+man of sensible and pleasing aspect, and was recommended to my
+friendship and counsel in the letter which he brought. The letter
+stated, that a man, by name Amos Watson, by profession a mariner, and a
+resident at Baltimore, had disappeared in the summer of last year, in a
+mysterious and incomprehensible manner. He was known to have arrived in
+this city from Jamaica, and to have intended an immediate journey to his
+family, who lived at Baltimore; but he never arrived there, and no trace
+of his existence has since been discovered. The bearer had come to
+investigate, if possible, the secret of his fate, and I was earnestly
+entreated to afford him all the assistance and advice in my power, in
+the prosecution of his search. I expressed my willingness to serve the
+stranger, whose name was Williams; and, after offering him entertainment
+at my house, which was thankfully accepted, he proceeded to unfold to
+me the particulars of this affair. His story was this.</p>
+
+<p>"'On the 20th of last June, I arrived,' said he, 'from the West Indies,
+in company with Captain Watson. I commanded the ship in which he came as
+a passenger, his own ship being taken and confiscated by the English. We
+had long lived in habits of strict friendship, and I loved him for his
+own sake, as well as because he had married my sister. We landed in the
+morning, and went to dine with Mr. Keysler, since dead, but who then
+lived in Water Street. He was extremely anxious to visit his family,
+and, having a few commissions to perform in the city, which would not
+demand more than a couple of hours, he determined to set out next
+morning in the stage. Meanwhile, I had engagements which required me to
+repair with the utmost expedition to New York. I was scarcely less
+anxious than my brother to reach Baltimore, where my friends also
+reside; but there was an absolute necessity of going eastward. I
+expected, however, to return hither in three days, and then to follow
+Watson home. Shortly after dinner we parted; he to execute his
+commissions, and I to embark in the mail-stage.</p>
+
+<p>"'In the time prefixed I returned. I arrived early in the morning, and
+prepared to depart again at noon. Meanwhile, I called at Keysler's. This
+is an old acquaintance of Watson's and mine; and, in the course of talk,
+he expressed some surprise that Watson had so precipitately deserted his
+house. I stated the necessity there was for Watson's immediate departure
+<i>southward</i>, and added, that no doubt my brother had explained this
+necessity.</p>
+
+<p>"'Why, (said Keysler,) it is true, Captain Watson mentioned his
+intention of leaving town early next day; but then he gave me reason to
+expect that he would sup and lodge with me that night, whereas he has
+not made his appearance since. Besides, his trunk was brought to my
+house. This, no doubt, he intended to carry home with him, but here it
+remains still. It is not likely that in the hurry of departure his
+baggage was forgotten. Hence, I inferred that he was still in town, and
+have been puzzling myself these three days with conjectures as to what
+is become of him. What surprises me more is, that, on inquiring among
+the few friends which he has in this city, I find them as ignorant of
+his motions as myself. I have not, indeed, been wholly without
+apprehensions that some accident or other has befallen him.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I was not a little alarmed by this intimation. I went myself,
+agreeably to Keysler's directions, to Watson's friends, and made anxious
+inquiries, but none of them had seen my brother since his arrival. I
+endeavoured to recollect the commissions which he designed to execute,
+and, if possible, to trace him to the spot where he last appeared. He
+had several packets to deliver, one of which was addressed to Walter
+Thetford. Him, after some inquiry, I found out, but unluckily he chanced
+to be in the country. I found, by questioning a clerk, who transacted
+his business in his absence, that a person, who answered the minute
+description which I gave of Watson, had been there on the day on which I
+parted with him, and had left papers relative to the capture of one of
+Thetford's vessels by the English. This was the sum of the information
+he was able to afford me.</p>
+
+<p>"'I then applied to three merchants for whom my brother had letters.
+They all acknowledged the receipt of these letters, but they were
+delivered through the medium of the post-office.</p>
+
+<p>"'I was extremely anxious to reach home. Urgent engagements compelled me
+to go on without delay. I had already exhausted all the means of inquiry
+within my reach, and was obliged to acquiesce in the belief that Watson
+had proceeded homeward at the time appointed, and left, by forgetfulness
+or accident, his trunk behind him. On examining the books kept at the
+stage-offices, his name nowhere appeared, and no conveyance by water had
+occurred during the last week. Still, the only conjecture I could form
+was that he had gone homeward.</p>
+
+<p>"'Arriving at Baltimore, I found that Watson had not yet made his
+appearance. His wife produced a letter, which, by the postmark, appeared
+to have been put into the office at Philadelphia, on the morning after
+our arrival, and on which he had designed to commence his journey. This
+letter had been written by my brother, in my presence, but I had
+dissuaded him from sending it, since the same coach that should bear the
+letter was likewise to carry himself. I had seen him put it unwafered in
+his pocket-book, but this letter, unaltered in any part, and containing
+money which he had at first intended to enclose in it, was now conveyed
+to his wife's hand. In this letter he mentioned his design of setting
+out for Baltimore on the <i>twenty-first</i>, yet on that day the letter
+itself had been put into the office.</p>
+
+<p>"'We hoped that a short time would clear up this mystery, and bring the
+fugitive home; but, from that day till the present, no atom of
+intelligence has been received concerning him. The yellow fever, which
+quickly followed, in this city, and my own engagements, have hindered
+me, till now, from coming hither and resuming the search.</p>
+
+<p>"'My brother was one of the most excellent of men. His wife loved him to
+distraction, and, together with his children, depended for subsistence
+upon his efforts. You will not, therefore, be surprised that his
+disappearance excited, in us, the deepest consternation and distress;
+but I have other and peculiar reasons for wishing to know his fate. I
+gave him several bills of exchange on merchants of Baltimore, which I
+had received in payment of my cargo, in order that they might, as soon
+as possible, be presented and accepted. These have disappeared with the
+bearer. There is likewise another circumstance that makes his existence
+of no small value.</p>
+
+<p>"'There is an English family, who formerly resided in Jamaica, and
+possessed an estate of great value, but who, for some years, have lived
+in the neighbourhood of Baltimore. The head of this family died a year
+ago, and left a widow and three daughters. The lady thought it eligible
+to sell her husband's property in Jamaica, the island becoming hourly
+more exposed to the chances of war and revolution, and transfer it to
+the United States, where she purposes henceforth to reside. Watson had
+been her husband's friend, and, his probity and disinterestedness being
+well known, she intrusted him with legal powers to sell this estate.
+This commission was punctually performed, and the purchase-money was
+received. In order to confer on it the utmost possible security, he
+rolled up four bills of exchange, drawn upon opulent, merchants of
+London, in a thin sheet of lead, and, depositing this roll in a leathern
+girdle, fastened it round his waist, and under his clothes; a second set
+he gave to me, and a third he despatched to Mr. Keysler, by a vessel
+which sailed a few days before him. On our arrival in this city, we
+found that Keysler had received those transmitted to him, and which he
+had been charged to keep till our arrival. They were now produced, and,
+together with those which I had carried, were delivered to Watson. By
+him they were joined to those in the girdle, which he still wore,
+conceiving this method of conveyance to be safer than any other, and, at
+the same time, imagining it needless, in so short a journey as remained
+to be performed, to resort to other expedients.</p>
+
+<p>"'The sum which he thus bore about him was no less than ten thousand
+pounds sterling. It constituted the whole patrimony of a worthy and
+excellent family, and the loss of it reduces them to beggary. It is gone
+with Watson, and whither Watson has gone it is impossible even to guess.</p>
+
+<p>"'You may now easily conceive, sir, the dreadful disasters which may be
+connected with this man's fate, and with what immeasurable anxiety his
+family and friends have regarded his disappearance. That he is alive can
+scarcely be believed; for in what situation could he be placed in which
+he would not be able and willing to communicate some tidings of his fate
+to his family?</p>
+
+<p>"'Our grief has been unspeakably aggravated by the suspicions which Mrs.
+Maurice and her friends have allowed themselves to admit. They do not
+scruple to insinuate that Watson, tempted by so great a prize, has
+secretly embarked for England, in order to obtain payment for these
+bills and retain the money for his own use.</p>
+
+<p>"'No man was more impatient of poverty than Watson, but no man's honesty
+was more inflexible. He murmured at the destiny that compelled him to
+sacrifice his ease, and risk his life upon the ocean in order to
+procure the means of subsistence; and all the property which he had
+spent the best part of his life in collecting had just been ravished
+away from him by the English; but, if he had yielded to this temptation
+at any time, it would have been on receiving these bills at Jamaica.
+Instead of coming hither, it would have been infinitely more easy and
+convenient to have embarked directly for London; but none who thoroughly
+knew him can, for a moment, harbour a suspicion of his truth.</p>
+
+<p>"'If he be dead, and if the bills are not to be recovered, yet to
+ascertain this will, at least, serve to vindicate his character. As long
+as his fate is unknown, his fame will be loaded with the most flagrant
+imputations, and, if these bills be ever paid in London, these
+imputations will appear to be justified. If he has been robbed, the
+robber will make haste to secure the payment, and the Maurices may not
+unreasonably conclude that the robber was Watson himself.' Many other
+particulars were added by the stranger, to show the extent of the evils
+flowing from the death of his brother, and the loss of the papers which
+he carried with him.</p>
+
+<p>"I was greatly at a loss," continued Wortley, "what directions or advice
+to afford this man. Keysler, as you know, died early of the pestilence;
+but Keysler was the only resident in this city with whom Williams had
+any acquaintance. On mentioning the propriety of preventing the sale of
+these bills in America, by some public notice, he told me that this
+caution had been early taken; and I now remembered seeing the
+advertisement, in which the bills had been represented as having been
+lost or stolen in this city, and a reward of a thousand dollars was
+offered to any one who should restore them. This caution had been
+published in September, in all the trading-towns from Portsmouth to
+Savannah, but had produced no satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"I accompanied Williams to the mayor's office, in hopes of finding in
+the records of his proceedings, during the last six months, some traces
+of Watson; but neither these records nor the memory of the magistrate
+afforded us any satisfaction. Watson's friends had drawn up, likewise,
+a description of the person and dress of the fugitive, an account of the
+incidents attending his disappearance, and of the papers which he had in
+his possession, with the manner in which these papers had been secured.
+These had been already published in the Southern newspapers, and have
+been just reprinted in our own. As the former notice had availed
+nothing, this second expedient was thought necessary to be employed.</p>
+
+<p>"After some reflection, it occurred to me that it might be proper to
+renew the attempt which Williams had made to trace the footsteps of his
+friend to the moment of his final disappearance. He had pursued Watson
+to Thetford's; but Thetford himself had not been seen, and he had been
+contented with the vague information of his clerk. Thetford and his
+family, including his clerk, had perished, and it seemed as if this
+source of information was dried up. It was possible, however, that old
+Thetford might have some knowledge of his nephew's transactions, by
+which some light might chance to be thrown upon this obscurity. I
+therefore called on him, but found him utterly unable to afford me the
+light that I wished. My mention of the packet which Watson had brought
+to Thetford, containing documents respecting the capture of a certain
+ship, reminded him of the injuries which he had received from Welbeck,
+and excited him to renew his menaces and imputations on that wretch.
+Having somewhat exhausted this rhetoric, he proceeded to tell me what
+connection there was between the remembrance of his injuries and the
+capture of this vessel.</p>
+
+<p>"This vessel and its cargo were, in fact, the property of Welbeck. They
+had been sent to a good market, and had been secured by an adequate
+insurance. The value of this ship and cargo, and the validity of the
+policy, he had taken care to ascertain by means of his two nephews, one
+of whom had gone out supercargo. This had formed his inducement to lend
+his three notes to Welbeck, in exchange for three other notes, the whole
+amount of which included the <i>equitable interest</i> of <i>five per cent. per
+month</i> on his own loan. For the payment of these notes he by no means
+relied, as the world foolishly imagined, on the seeming opulence and
+secret funds of Welbeck. These were illusions too gross to have any
+influence on him. He was too old a bird to be decoyed into the net by
+<i>such</i> chaff. No; his nephew, the supercargo, would of course receive
+the produce of the voyage, and so much of this produce as would pay his
+debt he had procured the owner's authority to intercept its passage from
+the pocket of his nephew to that of Welbeck. In case of loss, he had
+obtained a similar security upon the policy. Jamieson's proceedings had
+been the same with his own, and no affair in which he had ever engaged
+had appeared to be more free from hazard than this. Their calculations,
+however, though plausible, were defeated. The ship was taken and
+condemned, for a cause which rendered the insurance ineffectual.</p>
+
+<p>"I bestowed no time in reflecting on this tissue of extortions and
+frauds, and on that course of events which so often disconcerts the
+stratagems of cunning. The names of Welbeck and Watson were thus
+associated together, and filled my thoughts with restlessness and
+suspicion. Welbeck was capable of any weakness. It was possible an
+interview had happened between these men, and that the fugitive had been
+someway instrumental in Watson's fate. These thoughts were mentioned to
+Williams, whom the name of Welbeck threw into the utmost perturbation.
+On finding that one of this name had dwelt in this city, and that he had
+proved a villain, he instantly admitted the most dreary forebodings.</p>
+
+<p>"'I have heard,' said Williams, 'the history of this Welbeck a score of
+times from my brother. There formerly subsisted a very intimate
+connection between them. My brother had conferred, upon one whom he
+thought honest, innumerable benefits; but all his benefits had been
+repaid by the blackest treachery. Welbeck's character and guilt had
+often been made the subject of talk between us, but, on these occasions,
+my brother's placid and patient temper forsook him. His grief for the
+calamities which had sprung from this man, and his desire of revenge,
+burst all bounds, and transported him to a pitch of temporary frenzy. I
+often inquired in what manner he intended to act if a meeting should
+take place between them. He answered, that doubtless he should act like
+a maniac, in defiance of his sober principles, and of the duty which he
+owed his family.</p>
+
+<p>"'What! (said I,) would you stab or pistol him?</p>
+
+<p>"'No. I was not born for an assassin. I would upbraid him in such terms
+as the furious moment might suggest, and then challenge him to a
+meeting, from which either he or I should not part with life. I would
+allow time for him to make his peace with Heaven, and for me to blast
+his reputation upon earth, and to make such provision for my possible
+death as duty and discretion would prescribe.</p>
+
+<p>"'Now, nothing is more probable than that Welbeck and my brother have
+met. Thetford would of course mention his name and interest in the
+captured ship, and hence the residence of this detested being in this
+city would be made known. Their meeting could not take place without
+some dreadful consequence. I am fearful that to that meeting we must
+impute the disappearance of my brother.'</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXVII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Here was new light thrown upon the character of Welbeck, and new food
+administered to my suspicions. No conclusion could be more plausible
+than that which Williams had drawn; but how should it be rendered
+certain? Walter Thetford, or some of his family, had possibly been
+witnesses of something, which, added to our previous knowledge, might
+strengthen or prolong that clue, one end of which seemed now to be put
+into our hands; but Thetford's father-in-law was the only one of his
+family, who, by seasonable flight from the city, had escaped the
+pestilence. To him, who still resided in the country, I repaired with
+all speed, accompanied by Williams.</p>
+
+<p>"The old man, being reminded, by a variety of circumstances, of the
+incidents of that eventful period, was, at length, enabled to relate
+that he had been present at the meeting which took place between Watson
+and his son Walter, when certain packets were delivered by the former,
+relative, as he quickly understood, to the condemnation of a ship in
+which Thomas Thetford had gone supercargo. He had noticed some emotion
+of the stranger, occasioned by his son's mentioning the concern which
+Welbeck had in the vessel. He likewise remembered the stranger's
+declaring his intention of visiting Welbeck, and requesting Walter to
+afford him directions to his house.</p>
+
+<p>"'Next morning at the breakfast-table,' continued the old man, 'I
+adverted to yesterday's incidents, and asked my son how Welbeck had
+borne the news of the loss of his ship. "He bore it," said Walter, "as a
+man of his wealth ought to bear so trivial a loss. But there was
+something very strange in his behaviour," says my son, "when I mentioned
+the name of the captain who brought the papers; and, when I mentioned
+the captain's design of paying him a visit, he stared upon me, for a
+moment, as if he were frighted out of his wits, and then, snatching up
+his hat, ran furiously out of the house." This was all my son said upon
+that occasion; but, as I have since heard, it was on that very night
+that Welbeck absconded from his creditors.'</p>
+
+<p>"I have this moment returned from this interview with old Thetford. I
+come to you, because I thought it possible that Mervyn, agreeably to
+your expectations, had returned, and I wanted to see the lad once more.
+My suspicions with regard to him have been confirmed, and a warrant was
+this day issued for apprehending him as Welbeck's accomplice."</p>
+
+<p>I was startled by this news. "My friend," said I, "be cautious how you
+act, I beseech you. You know not in what evils you may involve the
+innocent. Mervyn I know to be blameless; but Welbeck is indeed a
+villain. The latter I shall not be sorry to see brought to justice; but
+the former, instead of meriting punishment, is entitled to rewards."</p>
+
+<p>"So you believe, on the mere assertion of the boy, perhaps, his
+plausible lies might produce the same effect upon me; but I must stay
+till he thinks proper to exert his skill. The suspicions to which he is
+exposed will not easily be obviated; but, if he has any thing to say in
+his defence, his judicial examination will afford him the suitable
+opportunity. Why are you so much afraid to subject his innocence to this
+test? It was not till you heard his tale that your own suspicions were
+removed. Allow me the same privilege of unbelief.</p>
+
+<p>"But you do me wrong, in deeming me the cause of his apprehension. It is
+Jamieson and Thetford's work, and they have not proceeded on shadowy
+surmises and the impulses of mere revenge. Facts have come to light of
+which you are wholly unaware, and which, when known to you, will conquer
+even your incredulity as to the guilt of Mervyn."</p>
+
+<p>"Facts? Let me know them, I beseech you. If Mervyn has deceived me,
+there is an end to my confidence in human nature. All limits to
+dissimulation, and all distinctness between vice and virtue, will be
+effaced. No man's word, nor force of collateral evidence, shall weigh
+with me a hair."</p>
+
+<p>"It was time," replied my friend, "that your confidence in smooth
+features and fluent accents should have ended long ago. Till I gained
+from my present profession some knowledge of the world, a knowledge
+which was not gained in a moment, and has not cost a trifle, I was
+equally wise in my own conceit; and, in order to decide upon the truth
+of any one's pretensions, needed only a clear view of his face and a
+distinct hearing of his words. My folly, in that respect, was only to be
+cured, however, by my own experience, and I suppose your credulity will
+yield to no other remedy. These are the facts:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Wentworth, the proprietor of the house in which Welbeck lived, has
+furnished some intelligence respecting Mervyn, whose truth cannot be
+doubted, and which furnishes the strongest evidence of a conspiracy
+between this lad and his employer. It seems that, some years since, a
+nephew of this lady left his father's family clandestinely, and has not
+been heard of since. This nephew was intended to inherit her fortunes,
+and her anxieties and inquiries respecting him have been endless and
+incessant. These, however, have been fruitless. Welbeck, knowing these
+circumstances, and being desirous of substituting a girl whom he had
+moulded for his purpose, in place of the lost youth, in the affections
+of the lady while living, and in her testament when dead, endeavoured to
+persuade her that the youth had died in some foreign country. For this
+end, Mervyn was to personate a kinsman of Welbeck who had just arrived
+from Europe, and who had been a witness of her nephew's death. A story
+was, no doubt, to be contrived, where truth should be copied with the
+most exquisite dexterity; and, the lady being prevailed upon to believe
+the story, the way was cleared for accomplishing the remainder of the
+plot.</p>
+
+<p>"In due time, and after the lady's mind had been artfully prepared by
+Welbeck, the pupil made his appearance; and, in a conversation full of
+studied ambiguities, assured the lady that her nephew was dead. For the
+present he declined relating the particulars of his death, and displayed
+a constancy and intrepidity in resisting her entreaties that would have
+been admirable in a better cause. Before she had time to fathom this
+painful mystery, Welbeck's frauds were in danger of detection, and he
+and his pupil suddenly disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"While the plot was going forward, there occurred an incident which the
+plotters had not foreseen or precluded, and which possibly might have
+created some confusion or impediment in their designs. A bundle was
+found one night in the street, consisting of some coarse clothes, and
+containing, in the midst of it, the miniature portrait of Mrs.
+Wentworth's nephew. It fell into the hands of one of that lady's
+friends, who immediately despatched the bundle to her. Mervyn, in his
+interview with this lady, spied the portrait on the mantel-piece. Led by
+some freak of fancy, or some web of artifice, he introduced the talk
+respecting her nephew, by boldly claiming it as his; but, when the mode
+in which it had been found was mentioned, he was disconcerted and
+confounded, and precipitately withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>"This conduct, and the subsequent flight of the lad, afforded ground
+enough to question the truth of his intelligence respecting her nephew;
+but it has since been confuted, in a letter just received from her
+brother in England. In this letter, she is informed that her nephew had
+been seen by one who knew him well, in Charleston; that some intercourse
+took place between the youth and the bearer of the news, in the course
+of which the latter had persuaded the nephew to return to his family,
+and that the youth had given some tokens of compliance. The
+letter-writer, who was father to the fugitive, had written to certain
+friends at Charleston, entreating them to use their influence with the
+runaway to the same end, and, at any rate, to cherish and protect him.
+Thus, I hope you will admit that the duplicity of Mervyn is
+demonstrated."</p>
+
+<p>"The facts which you have mentioned," said I, after some pause, "partly
+correspond with Mervyn's story; but the last particular is
+irreconcilably repugnant to it. Now, for the first time, I begin to feel
+that my confidence is shaken. I feel my mind bewildered and distracted
+by the multitude of new discoveries which have just taken place. I want
+time to revolve them slowly, to weigh them accurately, and to estimate
+their consequences fully. I am afraid to speak; fearing that, in the
+present trouble of my thoughts, I may say something which I may
+afterwards regret, I want a counsellor; but you, Wortley, are unfit for
+the office. Your judgment is unfurnished with the same materials; your
+sufferings have soured your humanity and biassed your candour. The only
+one qualified to divide with me these cares, and aid in selecting the
+best mode of action, is my wife. She is mistress of Mervyn's history; an
+observer of his conduct during his abode with us; and is hindered, by
+her education and temper, from deviating into rigour and malevolence.
+Will you pardon me, therefore, if I defer commenting on your narrative
+till I have had an opportunity of reviewing it and comparing it with my
+knowledge of the lad, collected from himself and from my own
+observation?"</p>
+
+<p>Wortley could not but admit the justice of my request, and, after some
+desultory conversation, we parted. I hastened to communicate to my wife
+the various intelligence which I had lately received. Mrs. Althorpe's
+portrait of the Mervyns contained lineaments which the summary detail of
+Arthur did not enable us fully to comprehend. The treatment which the
+youth is said to have given to his father; the illicit commerce that
+subsisted between him and his father's wife; the pillage of money and
+his father's horse, but ill accorded with the tale which we had heard,
+and disquieted our minds with doubts, though far from dictating our
+belief.</p>
+
+<p>What, however, more deeply absorbed our attention, was the testimony of
+Williams and of Mrs. Wentworth. That which was mysterious and
+inscrutable to Wortley and the friends of Watson was luminous to us. The
+coincidence between the vague hints laboriously collected by these
+inquirers, and the narrative of Mervyn, afforded the most cogent
+attestation of the truth of that narrative.</p>
+
+<p>Watson had vanished from all eyes, but the spot where rested his remains
+was known to us. The girdle spoken of by Williams would not be suspected
+to exist by his murderer. It was unmolested, and was doubtless buried
+with him. That which was so earnestly sought, and which constituted the
+subsistence of the Maurices, would probably be found adhering to his
+body. What conduct was incumbent upon me who possessed this knowledge?</p>
+
+<p>It was just to restore these bills to their true owner; but how could
+this be done without hazardous processes and tedious disclosures? To
+whom ought these disclosures to be made? By what authority or agency
+could these half-decayed limbs be dug up, and the lost treasure be taken
+from amidst the horrible corruption in which it was immersed?</p>
+
+<p>This ought not to be the act of a single individual. This act would
+entangle him in a maze of perils and suspicions, of concealments and
+evasions, from which he could not hope to escape with his reputation
+inviolate. The proper method was through the agency of the law. It is to
+this that Mervyn must submit his conduct. The story which he told to me
+he must tell to the world. Suspicions have fixed themselves upon him,
+which allow him not the privilege of silence and obscurity. While he
+continued unknown and unthought of, the publication of his story would
+only give unnecessary birth to dangers; but now dangers are incurred
+which it may probably contribute to lessen, if not to remove.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the return of Mervyn to the city was anxiously expected. Day
+after day passed, and no tidings were received. I had business of an
+urgent nature which required my presence in Jersey, but which, in the
+daily expectation of the return of my young friend, I postponed a week
+longer than rigid discretion allowed. At length I was obliged to comply
+with the exigence, and left the city, but made such arrangements that I
+should be apprized by my wife of Mervyn's return with all practicable
+expedition.</p>
+
+<p>These arrangements were superfluous, for my business was despatched, and
+my absence at an end, before the youth had given us any tokens of his
+approach. I now remembered the warnings of Wortley, and his assertions
+that Mervyn had withdrawn himself forever from our view. The event had
+hitherto unwelcomely coincided with these predictions, and a thousand
+doubts and misgivings were awakened.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, while preparing to shake off gloomy thoughts by a visit to
+a friend, some one knocked at my door, and left a billet containing
+these words:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Dr. Stevens is requested to come immediately to the Debtors'
+Apartments in Prune Street.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>This billet was without signature. The handwriting was unknown, and the
+precipitate departure of the bearer left me wholly at a loss with
+respect to the person of the writer, or the end for which my presence
+was required. This uncertainty only hastened my compliance with the
+summons.</p>
+
+<p>The evening was approaching,&mdash;a time when the prison-doors are
+accustomed to be shut and strangers to be excluded. This furnished an
+additional reason for despatch. As I walked swiftly along, I revolved
+the possible motives that might have prompted this message. A conjecture
+was soon formed, which led to apprehension and inquietude.</p>
+
+<p>One of my friends, by name Carlton, was embarrassed with debts which he
+was unable to discharge. He had lately been menaced with arrest by a
+creditor not accustomed to remit any of his claims. I dreaded that this
+catastrophe had now happened, and called to mind the anguish with which
+this untoward incident would overwhelm his family. I knew his incapacity
+to take away the claim of his creditor by payment, or to soothe him into
+clemency by supplication.</p>
+
+<p>So prone is the human mind to create for itself distress, that I was not
+aware of the uncertainty of this evil till I arrived at the prison. I
+checked myself at the moment when I opened my lips to utter the name of
+my friend, and was admitted without particular inquiries. I supposed
+that he by whom I had been summoned hither would meet me in the common
+room.</p>
+
+<p>The apartment was filled with pale faces and withered forms. The marks
+of negligence and poverty were visible in all; but few betrayed, in
+their features or gestures, any symptoms of concern on account of their
+condition. Ferocious gayety, or stupid indifference, seemed to sit upon
+every brow. The vapour from a heated stove, mingled with the fumes of
+beer and tallow that were spilled upon it, and with the tainted breath
+of so promiscuous a crowd, loaded the stagnant atmosphere. At my first
+transition from the cold and pure air without, to this noxious element,
+I found it difficult to breathe. A moment, however, reconciled me to my
+situation, and I looked anxiously round to discover some face which I
+knew.</p>
+
+<p>Almost every mouth was furnished with a cigar, and every hand with a
+glass of porter. Conversation, carried on with much emphasis of tone and
+gesture, was not wanting. Sundry groups, in different corners, were
+beguiling the tedious hours at whist. Others, unemployed, were strolling
+to and fro, and testified their vacancy of thought and care by humming
+or whistling a tune.</p>
+
+<p>I fostered the hope that my prognostics had deceived me. This hope was
+strengthened by reflecting that the billet received was written in a
+different hand from that of my friend. Meanwhile I continued my search.
+Seated on a bench, silent and aloof from the crowd, his eyes fixed upon
+the floor, and his face half concealed by his hand, a form was at length
+discovered which verified all my conjectures and fears. Carlton was he.</p>
+
+<p>My heart drooped and my tongue faltered at this sight. I surveyed him
+for some minutes in silence. At length, approaching the bench on which
+he sat, I touched his hand and awakened him from his reverie. He looked
+up. A momentary gleam of joy and surprise was succeeded by a gloom
+deeper than before.</p>
+
+<p>It was plain that my friend needed consolation. He was governed by an
+exquisite sensibility to disgrace. He was impatient of constraint. He
+shrunk, with fastidious abhorrence, from the contact of the vulgar and
+the profligate. His constitution was delicate and feeble. Impure airs,
+restraint from exercise, unusual aliment, unwholesome or incommodious
+accommodations, and perturbed thoughts, were, at any time, sufficient to
+generate disease and to deprive him of life.</p>
+
+<p>To these evils he was now subjected. He had no money wherewith to
+purchase food. He had been dragged hither in the morning. He had not
+tasted a morsel since his entrance. He had not provided a bed on which
+to lie; or inquired in what room, or with what companions, the night was
+to be spent.</p>
+
+<p>Fortitude was not among my friend's qualities. He was more prone to
+shrink from danger than encounter it, and to yield to the flood rather
+than sustain it; but it is just to observe that his anguish, on the
+present occasion, arose not wholly from selfish considerations. His
+parents were dead, and two sisters were dependent on him for support.
+One of these was nearly of his own age. The other was scarcely emerged
+from childhood. There was an intellectual as well as a personal
+resemblance between my friend and his sisters. They possessed his
+physical infirmities, his vehement passions, and refinements of taste;
+and the misery of his condition was tenfold increased, by reflecting on
+the feelings which would be awakened in them by the knowledge of his
+state, and the hardships to which the loss of his succour would expose
+them.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was not in my power to release my friend by the payment of his debt;
+but, by contracting with the keeper of the prison for his board, I could
+save him from famine; and, by suitable exertions, could procure him
+lodging as convenient as the time would admit. I could promise to
+console and protect his sisters, and, by cheerful tones and frequent
+visits, dispel some part of the evil which encompassed him.</p>
+
+<p>After the first surprise had subsided, he inquired by what accident this
+meeting had been produced. Conscious of my incapacity to do him any
+essential service, and unwilling to make me a partaker in his miseries,
+he had forborne to inform me of his condition.</p>
+
+<p>This assurance was listened to with some wonder. I showed him the
+billet. It had not been written by him. He was a stranger to the
+penmanship. None but the attorney and officer were apprized of his fate.
+It was obvious to conclude, that this was the interposition of some
+friend, who, knowing my affection for Carlton, had taken this mysterious
+method of calling me to his succour.</p>
+
+<p>Conjectures as to the author and motives of this inter position were
+suspended by more urgent considerations. I requested an interview with
+the keeper, and inquired how Carlton could be best accommodated.</p>
+
+<p>He said that all his rooms were full but one, which, in consequence of
+the dismission of three persons in the morning, had at present but one
+tenant. This person had lately arrived, was sick, and had with him, at
+this time, one of his friends. Carlton might divide the chamber with
+this person. No doubt his consent would be readily given; though this
+arrangement, being the best, must take place whether he consented or
+not.</p>
+
+<p>This consent I resolved immediately to seek, and, for that purpose,
+desired to be led to the chamber. The door of the apartment was shut. I
+knocked for admission. It was instantly opened, and I entered. The first
+person who met my view was&mdash;Arthur Mervyn.</p>
+
+<p>I started with astonishment. Mervyn's countenance betrayed nothing but
+satisfaction at the interview. The traces of fatigue and anxiety gave
+place to tenderness and joy. It readily occurred to me that Mervyn was
+the writer of the note which I had lately received. To meet him within
+these walls, and at this time, was the most remote and undesirable of
+all contingencies. The same hour had thus made me acquainted with the
+kindred and unwelcome fate of two beings whom I most loved.</p>
+
+<p>I had scarcely time to return his embrace, when, taking my hand, he led
+me to a bed that stood in one corner. There was stretched upon it one
+whom a second glance enabled me to call by his name, though I had never
+before seen him. The vivid portrait which Mervyn had drawn was
+conspicuous in the sunken and haggard visage before me. This face had,
+indeed, proportions and lines which could never be forgotten or
+mistaken. Welbeck, when once seen or described, was easily distinguished
+from the rest of mankind. He had stronger motives than other men for
+abstaining from guilt, the difficulty of concealment or disguise being
+tenfold greater in him than in others, by reason of the indelible and
+eye-attracting marks which nature had set upon him.</p>
+
+<p>He was pallid and emaciated. He did not open his eyes on my entrance. He
+seemed to be asleep; but, before I had time to exchange glances with
+Mervyn, or to inquire into the nature of the scene, he awoke. On seeing
+me he started, and cast a look of upbraiding on my companion. The latter
+comprehended his emotion, and endeavoured to appease him.</p>
+
+<p>"This person," said he, "is my friend. He is likewise a physician; and,
+perceiving your state to require medical assistance, I ventured to send
+for him."</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck replied, in a contemptuous and indignant tone, "Thou mistakest
+my condition, boy. My disease lies deeper than his scrutiny will ever
+reach. I had hoped thou wert gone. Thy importunities are well meant, but
+they aggravate my miseries."</p>
+
+<p>He now rose from the bed, and continued, in a firm and resolute tone,
+"You are intruders into this apartment. It is mine, and I desire to be
+left alone."</p>
+
+<p>Mervyn returned, at first, no answer to this address. He was immersed in
+perplexity. At length, raising his eyes from the floor, he said, "My
+intentions are indeed honest, and I am grieved that I want the power of
+persuasion. To-morrow, perhaps, I may reason more cogently with your
+despair, or your present mood may be changed. To aid my own weakness I
+will entreat the assistance of this friend."</p>
+
+<p>These words roused a new spirit in Welbeck. His confusion and anger
+increased. His tongue faltered as he exclaimed, "Good God! what mean
+you? Headlong and rash as you are, you will not share with this person
+your knowledge of me?" Here he checked himself, conscious that the words
+he had already uttered tended to the very end which he dreaded. This
+consciousness, added to the terror of more ample disclosures, which the
+simplicity and rectitude of Mervyn might prompt him to make, chained up
+his tongue, and covered him with dismay.</p>
+
+<p>Mervyn was not long in answering:&mdash;"I comprehend your fears and your
+wishes. I am bound to tell you the truth. To this person your story has
+already been told. Whatever I have witnessed under your roof, whatever I
+have heard from your lips, have been faithfully disclosed to him."</p>
+
+<p>The countenance of Welbeck now betrayed a mixture of incredulity and
+horror. For a time his utterance was stifled by his complicated
+feelings:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It cannot be. So enormous a deed is beyond thy power. Thy qualities are
+marvellous. Every new act of thine outstrips the last, and belies the
+newest calculations. But this&mdash;this perfidy exceeds&mdash;this outrage upon
+promises, this violation of faith, this blindness to the future, is
+incredible." There he stopped; while his looks seemed to call upon
+Mervyn for a contradiction of his first assertion.</p>
+
+<p>"I know full well how inexpiably stupid or wicked my act will appear to
+you, but I will not prevaricate or lie. I repeat, that every thing is
+known to him. Your birth; your early fortunes; the incidents at
+Charleston and Wilmington; your treatment of the brother and sister;
+your interview with Watson, and the fatal issue of that interview&mdash;I
+have told him all, just as it was told to me."</p>
+
+<p>Here the shock that was felt by Welbeck overpowered his caution and his
+strength. He sunk upon the side of the bed. His air was still
+incredulous, and he continued to gaze upon Mervyn. He spoke in a tone
+less vehement:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"And hast thou then betrayed me? Hast thou shut every avenue to my
+return to honour? Am I known to be a seducer and assassin? To have
+meditated all crimes, and to have perpetrated the worst?</p>
+
+<p>"Infamy and death are my portion. I know they are reserved for me; but I
+did not think to receive them at thy hands, that under that innocent
+guise there lurked a heart treacherous and cruel. But go; leave me to
+myself. This stroke has exterminated my remnant of hope. Leave me to
+prepare my neck for the halter, and my lips for this last and bitterest
+cup."</p>
+
+<p>Mervyn struggled with his tears, and replied, "All this was foreseen,
+and all this I was prepared to endure. My friend and I will withdraw, as
+you wish; but to-morrow I return; not to vindicate my faith or my
+humanity; not to make you recant your charges, or forgive the faults
+which I seem to have committed, but to extricate you from your present
+evil, or to arm you with fortitude."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he led the way out of the room. I followed him in silence.
+The strangeness and abruptness of this scene left me no power to assume
+a part in it. I looked on with new and indescribable sensations. I
+reached the street before my recollection was perfectly recovered. I
+then reflected on the purpose that had led me to Welbeck's chamber. This
+purpose was yet unaccomplished. I desired Mervyn to linger a moment
+while I returned into the house. I once more inquired for the keeper,
+and told him I should leave to him the province of acquainting Welbeck
+with the necessity of sharing his apartment with a stranger. I speedily
+rejoined Mervyn in the street.</p>
+
+<p>I lost no time in requiring an explanation of the scene that I had
+witnessed. "How became you once more the companion of Welbeck? Why did
+you not inform me by letter of your arrival at Malverton, and of what
+occurred during your absence? What is the fate of Mr. Hadwin and of
+Wallace?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alas!" said he, "I perceive that, though I have written, you have never
+received my letters. The tale of what has occurred since we parted is
+long and various. I am not only willing but eager to communicate the
+story; but this is no suitable place. Have patience till we reach your
+house. I have involved myself in perils and embarrassments from which I
+depend upon your counsel and aid to release me."</p>
+
+<p>I had scarcely reached my own door, when I was overtaken by a servant,
+whom I knew to belong to the family in which Carlton and his sisters
+resided. Her message, therefore, was readily guessed. She came, as I
+expected, to inquire for my friend, who had left his home in the morning
+with a stranger, and had not yet returned. His absence had occasioned
+some inquietude, and his sister had sent this message to me, to procure
+what information respecting the cause of his detention I was able to
+give.</p>
+
+<p>My perplexity hindered me, for some time, from answering. I was willing
+to communicate the painful truth with my own mouth. I saw the necessity
+of putting an end to her suspense, and of preventing the news from
+reaching her with fallacious aggravations or at an unseasonable time.</p>
+
+<p>I told the messenger that I had just parted with Mr. Carlton, that he
+was well, and that I would speedily come and acquaint his sister with
+the cause of his absence.</p>
+
+<p>Though burning with curiosity respecting Mervyn and Welbeck, I readily
+postponed its gratification till my visit to Miss Carlton was performed.
+I had rarely seen this lady; my friendship for her brother, though
+ardent, having been lately formed, and chiefly matured by interviews at
+my house. I had designed to introduce her to my wife, but various
+accidents had hindered the execution of my purpose. Now consolation and
+counsel were more needed than ever, and delay or reluctance in bestowing
+it would have been, in a high degree, unpardonable.</p>
+
+<p>I therefore parted with Mervyn, requesting him to await my return, and
+promising to perform the engagement which compelled me to leave him,
+with the utmost despatch. On entering Miss Carlton's apartment, I
+assumed an air of as much tranquillity as possible. I found the lady
+seated at a desk, with pen in hand and parchment before her. She greeted
+me with affectionate dignity, and caught from my countenance that
+cheerfulness of which on my entrance she was destitute.</p>
+
+<p>"You come," said she, "to inform me what has made my brother a truant
+to-day. Till your message was received I was somewhat anxious. This day
+he usually spends in rambling through the fields; but so bleak and
+stormy an atmosphere, I suppose, would prevent his excursion. I pray,
+sir, what is it detains him?"</p>
+
+<p>To conquer my embarrassment, and introduce the subject by indirect and
+cautious means, I eluded her question, and, casting an eye at the
+parchment,&mdash;"How now?" said I; "this is strange employment for a lady. I
+knew that my friend pursued this trade, and lived by binding fast the
+bargains which others made; but I knew not that the pen was ever usurped
+by his sister."</p>
+
+<p>"The usurpation was prompted by necessity. My brother's impatient temper
+and delicate frame unfitted him for the trade. He pursued it with no
+less reluctance than diligence, devoting to the task three nights in the
+week, and the whole of each day. It would long ago have killed him, had
+I not bethought myself of sharing his tasks. The pen was irksome and
+toilsome at first, but use has made it easy, and far more eligible than
+the needle, which was formerly my only tool.</p>
+
+<p>"This arrangement affords my brother opportunities of exercise and
+recreation, without diminishing our profits; and my time, though not
+less constantly, is more agreeably, as well as more lucratively,
+employed than formerly."</p>
+
+<p>"I admire your reasoning. By this means provision is made against
+untoward accidents. If sickness should disable him, you are qualified to
+pursue the same means of support."</p>
+
+<p>At these words the lady's countenance changed. She put her hand on my
+arm, and said, in a fluttering and hurried accent, "Is my brother sick?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. He is in perfect health. My observation was a harmless one. I am
+sorry to observe your readiness to draw alarming inferences. If I were
+to say that your scheme is useful to supply deficiencies, not only when
+your brother is disabled by sickness, but when thrown, by some inhuman
+creditor, into jail, no doubt you would perversely and hastily infer
+that he is now in prison."</p>
+
+<p>I had scarcely ended the sentence, when the piercing eyes of the lady
+were anxiously fixed upon mine. After a moment's pause, she exclaimed,
+"The inference, indeed, is too plain. I know his fate. It has long been
+foreseen and expected, and I have summoned up my equanimity to meet it.
+Would to Heaven he may find the calamity as light as I should find it!
+but I fear his too irritable spirit."</p>
+
+<p>When her fears were confirmed, she started out into no vehemence of
+exclamation. She quickly suppressed a few tears which would not be
+withheld, and listened to my narrative of what had lately occurred, with
+tokens of gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>Formal consolation was superfluous. Her mind was indeed more fertile
+than my own in those topics which take away its keenest edge from
+affliction. She observed that it was far from being the heaviest
+calamity which might have happened. The creditor was perhaps vincible by
+arguments and supplications. If these should succeed, the disaster would
+not only be removed, but that security from future molestation be
+gained, to which they had for a long time been strangers.</p>
+
+<p>Should he be obdurate, their state was far from being hopeless.
+Carlton's situation allowed him to pursue his profession. His gains
+would be equal, and his expenses would not be augmented. By their mutual
+industry they might hope to amass sufficient to discharge the debt at no
+very remote period.</p>
+
+<p>What she chiefly dreaded was the pernicious influence of dejection and
+sedentary labour on her brother's health. Yet this was not to be
+considered as inevitable. Fortitude might be inspired by exhortation and
+example, and no condition precluded us from every species of bodily
+exertion. The less inclined he should prove to cultivate the means of
+deliverance and happiness within his reach, the more necessary it became
+for her to stimulate and fortify his resolution.</p>
+
+<p>If I were captivated by the charms of this lady's person and carriage,
+my reverence was excited by these proofs of wisdom and energy. I
+zealously promised to concur with her in every scheme she should adopt
+for her own or her brother's advantage; and, after spending some hours
+with her, took my leave.</p>
+
+<p>I now regretted the ignorance in which I had hitherto remained
+respecting this lady. That she was, in an eminent degree, feminine and
+lovely, was easily discovered; but intellectual weakness had been rashly
+inferred from external frailty. She was accustomed to shrink from
+observation, and reserve was mistaken for timidity. I called on Carlton
+only when numerous engagements would allow, and when, by some accident,
+his customary visits had been intermitted. On those occasions, my stay
+was short, and my attention chiefly confined to her brother. I now
+resolved to atone for my ancient negligence, not only by my own
+assiduities, but by those of my wife.</p>
+
+<p>On my return home, I found Mervyn and my wife in earnest discourse. I
+anticipated the shock which the sensibility of the latter would receive
+from the tidings which I had to communicate respecting Carlton. I was
+unwilling, and yet perceived the necessity of disclosing the truth. I
+desired to bring these women, as soon as possible, to the knowledge of
+each other, but the necessary prelude to this was an acquaintance with
+the disaster that had happened.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had I entered the room, when Mervyn turned to me, and said,
+with an air of anxiety and impatience, "Pray, my friend, have you any
+knowledge of Francis Carlton?"</p>
+
+<p>The mention of this name by Mervyn produced some surprise. I
+acknowledged my acquaintance with him.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know in what situation he now is?"</p>
+
+<p>In answer to this question, I stated by what singular means his
+situation had been made known to me, and the purpose from the
+accomplishment of which I had just returned. I inquired in my turn,
+"Whence originated this question?"</p>
+
+<p>He had overheard the name of Carlton in the prison. Two persons were
+communing in a corner, and accident enabled him to catch this name,
+though uttered by them in a half whisper, and to discover that the
+person talked about had lately been conveyed thither.</p>
+
+<p>This name was not now heard for the first time. It was connected with
+remembrances that made him anxious for the fate of him to whom it
+belonged. In discourse with my wife, this name chanced to be again
+mentioned, and his curiosity was roused afresh. I was willing to
+communicate all that I knew, but Mervyn's own destiny was too remarkable
+not to absorb all my attention, and I refused to discuss any other theme
+till that were fully explained. He postponed his own gratification to
+mine, and consented to relate the incidents that had happened from the
+moment of our separation till the present.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXIX.</h3>
+
+
+<p>At parting with you, my purpose was to reach the abode of the Hadwins as
+speedily as possible. I travelled therefore with diligence. Setting out
+so early, I expected, though on foot, to reach the end of my journey
+before noon. The activity of muscles is no obstacle to thought. So far
+from being inconsistent with intense musing, it is, in my own case,
+propitious to that state of mind.</p>
+
+<p>Probably no one had stronger motives for ardent meditation than I. My
+second journey to the city was prompted by reasons, and attended by
+incidents, that seemed to have a present existence. To think upon them
+was to view, more deliberately and thoroughly, objects and persons that
+still hovered in my sight. Instead of their attributes being already
+seen, and their consequences at an end, it seemed as if a series of
+numerous years and unintermitted contemplation were requisite to
+comprehend them fully, and bring into existence their most momentous
+effects.</p>
+
+<p>If men be chiefly distinguished from each other by the modes in which
+attention is employed, either on external and sensible objects, or
+merely on abstract ideas and the creatures of reflection, I may justly
+claim to be enrolled in the second class. My existence is a series of
+thoughts rather than of motions. Ratiocination and deduction leave my
+senses unemployed. The fulness of my fancy renders my eye vacant and
+inactive. Sensations do not precede and suggest, but follow and are
+secondary to, the acts of my mind.</p>
+
+<p>There was one motive, however, which made me less inattentive to the
+scene that was continually shifting before and without me than I am
+wont to be. The loveliest form which I had hitherto seen was that of
+Clemenza Lodi. I recalled her condition as I had witnessed it, as
+Welbeck had described, and as you had painted it. The past was without
+remedy; but the future was, in some degree, within our power to create
+and to fashion. Her state was probably dangerous. She might already be
+forlorn, beset with temptation or with anguish; or danger might only be
+approaching her, and the worst evils be impending ones.</p>
+
+<p>I was ignorant of her state. Could I not remove this ignorance? Would
+not some benefit redound to her from beneficent and seasonable
+interposition?</p>
+
+<p>You had mentioned that her abode had lately been with Mrs. Villars, and
+that this lady still resided in the country. The residence had been
+sufficiently described, and I perceived that I was now approaching it.
+In a short time I spied its painted roof and five chimneys through an
+avenue of <i>catalpas</i>.</p>
+
+<p>When opposite the gate which led into this avenue, I paused. It seemed
+as if this moment were to decide upon the liberty and innocence of this
+being. In a moment I might place myself before her, ascertain her true
+condition, and point out to her the path of honour and safety. This
+opportunity might be the last. Longer delay might render interposition
+fruitless.</p>
+
+<p>But how was I to interpose? I was a stranger to her language, and she
+was unacquainted with mine. To obtain access to her, it was necessary
+only to demand it. But how should I explain my views and state my wishes
+when an interview was gained? And what expedient was it in my power to
+propose?</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said I, "I perceive the value of that wealth which I have been
+accustomed to despise. The power of eating and drinking, the nature and
+limits of existence and physical enjoyment, are not changed or enlarged
+by the increase of wealth. Our corporeal and intellectual wants are
+supplied at little expense; but our own wants are the wants of others,
+and that which remains, after our own necessities are obviated, it is
+always easy and just to employ in relieving the necessities of others.</p>
+
+<p>"There are no superfluities in my store. It is not in my power to supply
+this unfortunate girl with decent raiment and honest bread. I have no
+house to which to conduct her. I have no means of securing her from
+famine and cold.</p>
+
+<p>"Yet, though indigent and feeble, I am not destitute of friends and of
+home. Cannot she be admitted to the same asylum to which I am now
+going?" This thought was sudden and new. The more it was revolved, the
+more plausible it seemed. This was not merely the sole expedient, but
+the best that could have been suggested.</p>
+
+<p>The Hadwins were friendly, hospitable, unsuspicious. Their board, though
+simple and uncouth, was wholesome and plenteous. Their residence was
+sequestered and obscure, and not obnoxious to impertinent inquiries and
+malignant animadversion. Their frank and ingenuous temper would make
+them easy of persuasion, and their sympathies were prompt and
+overflowing.</p>
+
+<p>"I am nearly certain," continued I, "that they will instantly afford
+protection to this desolate girl. Why shall I not anticipate their
+consent, and present myself to their embraces and their welcomes in her
+company?"</p>
+
+<p>Slight reflection showed me that this precipitation was improper.
+Whether Wallace had ever arrived at Malverton, whether Mr. Hadwin had
+escaped infection, whether his house were the abode of security and
+quiet, or a scene of desolation, were questions yet to be determined.
+The obvious and best proceeding was to hasten forward, to afford the
+Hadwins, if in distress, the feeble consolations of my friendship; or,
+if their state were happy, to procure their concurrence to my scheme
+respecting Clemenza.</p>
+
+<p>Actuated by these considerations, I resumed my journey. Looking forward,
+I perceived a chaise and horse standing by the left-hand fence, at the
+distance of some hundred yards. This object was not uncommon or strange,
+and, therefore, it was scarcely noticed. When I came near, however,
+methought I recognised in this carriage the same in which my
+importunities had procured a seat for the languishing Wallace, in the
+manner which I have formerly related.</p>
+
+<p>It was a crazy vehicle and old-fashioned. When once seen it could
+scarcely be mistaken or forgotten. The horse was held by his bridle to a
+post, but the seat was empty. My solicitude with regard to Wallace's
+destiny, of which he to whom the carriage belonged might possibly afford
+me some knowledge, made me stop and reflect on what measures it was
+proper to pursue.</p>
+
+<p>The rider could not be at a great distance from this spot. His absence
+would probably be short. By lingering a few minutes an interview might
+be gained, and the uncertainty and suspense of some hours be thereby
+precluded. I therefore waited, and the same person whom I had formerly
+encountered made his appearance, in a short time, from under a copse
+that skirted the road.</p>
+
+<p>He recognised me with more difficulty than attended my recognition of
+him. The circumstances, however, of our first meeting were easily
+recalled to his remembrance. I eagerly inquired when and where he had
+parted with the youth who had been, on that occasion, intrusted to his
+care.</p>
+
+<p>He answered that, on leaving the city and inhaling the purer air of the
+fields and woods, Wallace had been, in a wonderful degree, invigorated
+and refreshed. An instantaneous and total change appeared to have been
+wrought in him. He no longer languished with fatigue or fear, but became
+full of gayety and talk.</p>
+
+<p>The suddenness of this transition; the levity with which he related and
+commented on his recent dangers and evils, excited the astonishment of
+his companion, to whom he not only communicated the history of his
+disease, but imparted many anecdotes of a humorous kind. Some of these
+my companion repeated. I heard them with regret and dissatisfaction.
+They betokened a mind vitiated by intercourse with the thoughtless and
+depraved of both sexes, and particularly with infamous and profligate
+women.</p>
+
+<p>My companion proceeded to mention that Wallace's exhilaration lasted but
+for a short time, and disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. He
+was seized with deadly sickness, and insisted upon leaving the carriage,
+whose movements shocked his stomach and head to an insupportable degree.
+His companion was not void of apprehensions on his own account, but was
+unwilling to desert him, and endeavoured to encourage him. His efforts
+were vain. Though the nearest house was at the distance of some hundred
+yards, and though it was probable that the inhabitants of this house
+would refuse to accommodate one in his condition, yet Wallace could not
+be prevailed on to proceed; and, in spite of persuasion and
+remonstrance, left the carriage and threw himself on the grassy bank
+beside the road.</p>
+
+<p>This person was not unmindful of the hazard which he incurred by contact
+with a sick man. He conceived himself to have performed all that was
+consistent with duty to himself and to his family; and Wallace,
+persisting in affirming that, by attempting to ride farther, he should
+merely hasten his death, was at length left to his own guidance.</p>
+
+<p>These were unexpected and mournful tidings. I had fondly imagined that
+his safety was put beyond the reach of untoward accidents. Now, however,
+there was reason to suppose him to have perished by a lingering and
+painful disease, rendered fatal by the selfishness of mankind, by the
+want of seasonable remedies, and exposure to inclement airs. Some
+uncertainty, however, rested on his fate. It was my duty to remove it,
+and to carry to the Hadwins no mangled and defective tale. Where, I
+asked, had Wallace and his companion parted?</p>
+
+<p>It was about three miles farther onward. The spot, and the house within
+view from the spot, were accurately described. In this house it was
+possible that Wallace had sought an asylum, and some intelligence
+respecting him might be gained from its inhabitants. My informant was
+journeying to the city, so that we were obliged to separate.</p>
+
+<p>In consequence of this man's description of Wallace's deportment, and
+the proofs of a dissolute and thoughtless temper which he had given, I
+began to regard his death as an event less deplorable. Such a one was
+unworthy of a being so devoutly pure, so ardent in fidelity and
+tenderness, as Susan Hadwin. If he loved, it was probable that, in
+defiance of his vows, he would seek a different companion. If he adhered
+to his first engagements, his motives would be sordid, and the
+disclosure of his latent defects might produce more exquisite misery to
+his wife than his premature death or treacherous desertion.</p>
+
+<p>The preservation of this man was my sole motive for entering the
+infected city, and subjecting my own life to the hazards from which my
+escape may almost be esteemed miraculous. Was not the end
+disproportioned to the means? Was there arrogance in believing my life a
+price too great to be given for his?</p>
+
+<p>I was not, indeed, sorry for the past. My purpose was just, and the
+means which I selected were the best my limited knowledge supplied. My
+happiness should be drawn from reflecting on the equity of my
+intentions. That these intentions were frustrated by the ignorance of
+others, or my own, was the consequence of human frailty. Honest
+purposes, though they may not bestow happiness on others, will, at
+least, secure it to him who fosters them.</p>
+
+<p>By these reflections my regrets were dissipated, and I prepared to
+rejoice alike, whether Wallace should be found to have escaped or to
+have perished. The house to which I had been directed was speedily
+brought into view. I inquired for the master or mistress of the mansion,
+and was conducted to a lady of a plain and housewifely appearance.</p>
+
+<p>My curiosity was fully gratified. Wallace, whom my description easily
+identified, had made his appearance at her door on the evening of the
+day on which he left the city. The dread of <i>the fever</i> was descanted on
+with copious and rude eloquence. I supposed her eloquence on this theme
+to be designed to apologize to me for her refusing entrance to the sick
+man. The peroration, however, was different. Wallace was admitted, and
+suitable attention paid to his wants.</p>
+
+<p>Happily, the guest had nothing to struggle with but extreme weakness.
+Repose, nourishing diet, and salubrious airs restored him in a short
+time to health. He lingered under this roof for three weeks, and then,
+without any professions of gratitude, or offers of pecuniary
+remuneration, or information of the course which he determined to take,
+he left them.</p>
+
+<p>These facts, added to that which I had previously known, threw no
+advantageous light upon the character of Wallace. It was obvious to
+conclude that he had gone to Malverton, and thither there was nothing to
+hinder me from following him.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps one of my grossest defects is a precipitate temper. I choose my
+path suddenly, and pursue it with impetuous expedition. In the present
+instance, my resolution was conceived with unhesitating zeal, and I
+walked the faster that I might the sooner execute it. Miss Hadwin
+deserved to be happy. Love was in her heart the all-absorbing sentiment.
+A disappointment there was a supreme calamity. Depravity and folly must
+assume the guise of virtue before it can claim her affection. This
+disguise might be maintained for a time, but its detection must
+inevitably come, and the sooner this detection takes place the more
+beneficial it must prove.</p>
+
+<p>I resolved to unbosom myself, with equal and unbounded confidence, to
+Wallace and his mistress. I would choose for this end, not the moment
+when they were separate, but that in which they were together. My
+knowledge, and the sources of my knowledge, relative to Wallace, should
+be unfolded to the lady with simplicity and truth. The lover should be
+present, to confute, to extenuate, or to verify the charges.</p>
+
+<p>During the rest of the day these images occupied the chief place in my
+thoughts. The road was miry and dark, and my journey proved to be more
+tedious and fatiguing than I expected. At length, just as the evening
+closed, the well-known habitation appeared in view. Since my departure,
+winter had visited the world, and the aspect of nature was desolate and
+dreary. All around this house was vacant, negligent, forlorn. The
+contrast between these appearances and those which I had noticed on my
+first approach to it, when the ground and the trees were decked with
+the luxuriance and vivacity of summer, was mournful, and seemed to
+foretoken ill. My spirits drooped as I noticed the general inactivity
+and silence.</p>
+
+<p>I entered, without warning, the door that led into the parlour. No face
+was to be seen or voice heard. The chimney was ornamented, as in summer,
+with evergreen shrubs. Though it was now the second month of frost and
+snow, fire did not appear to have been lately kindled on this hearth.</p>
+
+<p>This was a circumstance from which nothing good could be deduced. Had
+there been those to share its comforts who had shared them on former
+years, this was the place and hour at which they commonly assembled. A
+door on one side led, through a narrow entry, into the kitchen. I opened
+this door, and passed towards the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>No one was there but an old man, squatted in the chimney-corner. His
+face, though wrinkled, denoted undecayed health and an unbending spirit.
+A homespun coat, leathern breeches wrinkled with age, and blue yarn
+hose, were well suited to his lean and shrivelled form. On his right
+knee was a wooden bowl, which he had just replenished from a pipkin of
+hasty pudding still smoking on the coals; and in his left hand a spoon,
+which he had, at that moment, plunged into a bottle of molasses that
+stood beside him.</p>
+
+<p>This action was suspended by my entrance. He looked up and exclaimed,
+"Heyday! who's this that comes into other people's houses without so
+much as saying 'by your leave'? What's thee business? Who's thee want?"</p>
+
+<p>I had never seen this personage before. I supposed it to be some new
+domestic, and inquired for Mr. Hadwin.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" replied he, with a sigh, "William Hadwin. Is it him thee wants?
+Poor man! He is gone to rest many days since."</p>
+
+<p>My heart sunk within me at these tidings. "Dead!" said I; "do you mean
+that he is dead?"&mdash;This exclamation was uttered in a tone of some
+vehemence. It attracted the attention of some one who was standing
+without, who immediately entered the kitchen. It was Eliza Hadwin. The
+moment she beheld me she shrieked aloud, and, rushing into my arms,
+fainted away.</p>
+
+<p>The old man dropped his bowl; and, starting from his seat, stared
+alternately at me and at the breathless girl. My emotion, made up of
+joy, and sorrow, and surprise, rendered me for a moment powerless as
+she. At length he said, "I understand this. I know who thee is, and will
+tell her thee's come." So saying, he hastily left the room.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXX.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In a short time this gentle girl recovered her senses. She did not
+withdraw herself from my sustaining arm, but, leaning on my bosom, she
+resigned herself to passionate weeping. I did not endeavour to check
+this effusion, believing that its influence would be salutary.</p>
+
+<p>I had not forgotten the thrilling sensibility and artless graces of this
+girl. I had not forgotten the scruples which had formerly made me check
+a passion whose tendency was easily discovered. These new proofs of her
+affection were, at once, mournful and delightful. The untimely fate of
+her father and my friend pressed with new force upon my heart, and my
+tears, in spite of my fortitude, mingled with hers.</p>
+
+<p>The attention of both was presently attracted by a faint scream, which
+proceeded from above. Immediately tottering footsteps were heard in the
+passage, and a figure rushed into the room, pale, emaciated, haggard,
+and wild. She cast a piercing glance at me, uttered a feeble
+exclamation, and sunk upon the floor without signs of life.</p>
+
+<p>It was not difficult to comprehend this scene. I now conjectured, what
+subsequent inquiry confirmed, that the old man had mistaken me for
+Wallace, and had carried to the elder sister the news of his return.
+This fatal disappointment of hopes that had nearly been extinct, and
+which were now so powerfully revived, could not be endured by a frame
+verging to dissolution.</p>
+
+<p>This object recalled all the energies of Eliza, and engrossed all my
+solicitude. I lifted the fallen girl in my arms; and, guided by her
+sister, carried her to her chamber. I had now leisure to contemplate the
+changes which a few months had made in this lovely frame. I turned away
+from the spectacle with anguish, but my wandering eyes were recalled by
+some potent fascination, and fixed in horror upon a form which evinced
+the last stage of decay. Eliza knelt on one side, and, leaning her face
+upon the bed, endeavoured in vain to smother her sobs. I sat on the
+other motionless, and holding the passive and withered hand of the
+sufferer.</p>
+
+<p>I watched with ineffable solicitude the return of life. It returned at
+length, but merely to betray symptoms that it would speedily depart
+forever. For a time my faculties were palsied, and I was made an
+impotent spectator of the ruin that environed me. This pusillanimity
+quickly gave way to resolutions and reflections better suited to the
+exigencies of the time.</p>
+
+<p>The first impulse was to summon a physician; but it was evident that the
+patient had been sinking by slow degrees to this state, and that the
+last struggle had begun. Nothing remained but to watch her while
+expiring, and perform for her, when dead, the rites of interment. The
+survivor was capable of consolation and of succour. I went to her and
+drew her gently into another apartment. The old man, tremulous and
+wonder-struck, seemed anxious to perform some service. I directed him to
+kindle a fire in Eliza's chamber. Meanwhile I persuaded my gentle friend
+to remain in this chamber, and resign to me the performance of every
+office which her sister's condition required. I sat beside the bed of
+the dying till the mortal struggle was past.</p>
+
+<p>I perceived that the house had no inhabitant besides the two females and
+the old man. I went in search of the latter, and found him crouched, as
+before, at the kitchen-fire, smoking his pipe. I placed myself on the
+same bench, and entered into conversation with him.</p>
+
+<p>I gathered from him that he had, for many years, been Mr. Hadwin's
+servant. That lately he had cultivated a small farm in this
+neighbourhood for his own advantage. Stopping one day in October, at the
+tavern, he heard that his old master had lately been in the city, had
+caught <i>the fever</i>, and after his return had died with it. The moment he
+became sick, his servants fled from the house, and the neighbours
+refused to approach it. The task of attending his sick-bed was allotted
+to his daughters, and it was by their hands that his grave was dug and
+his body covered with earth. The same terror of infection existed after
+his death as before, and these hapless females were deserted by all
+mankind.</p>
+
+<p>Old Caleb was no sooner informed of these particulars, than he hurried
+to the house, and had since continued in their service. His heart was
+kind, but it was easily seen that his skill extended only to execute the
+directions of another. Grief for the death of Wallace and her father
+preyed upon the health of the eldest daughter. The younger became her
+nurse, and Caleb was always at hand to execute any orders the
+performance of which was on a level with his understanding. Their
+neighbours had not withheld their good offices, but they were still
+terrified and estranged by the phantoms of pestilence.</p>
+
+<p>During the last week Susan had been too weak to rise from her bed; yet
+such was the energy communicated by the tidings that Wallace was alive,
+and had returned, that she leaped upon her feet and rushed down-stairs.
+How little did that man deserve so strenuous and immortal an affection!</p>
+
+<p>I would not allow myself to ponder on the sufferings of these women. I
+endeavoured to think only of the best expedients for putting an end to
+these calamities. After a moment's deliberation I determined to go to a
+house at some miles' distance; the dwelling of one who, though not
+exempt from the reigning panic, had shown more generosity towards these
+unhappy girls than others. During my former abode in this district, I
+had ascertained his character, and found him to be compassionate and
+liberal.</p>
+
+<p>Overpowered by fatigue and watching, Eliza was no sooner relieved, by my
+presence, of some portion of her cares, than she sunk into profound
+slumber. I directed Caleb to watch the house till my return, which
+should be before midnight, and then set out for the dwelling of Mr.
+Ellis.</p>
+
+<p>The weather was temperate and moist, and rendered the footing of the
+meadows extremely difficult. The ground, that had lately been frozen and
+covered with snow, was now changed into gullies and pools, and this was
+no time to be fastidious in the choice of paths. A brook, swelled by the
+recent <i>thaw</i>, was likewise to be passed. The rail which I had formerly
+placed over it by way of bridge had disappeared, and I was obliged to
+wade through it. At length I approached the house to which I was going.</p>
+
+<p>At so late an hour, farmers and farmers' servants are usually abed, and
+their threshold is intrusted to their watch-dogs. Two belonged to Mr.
+Ellis, whose ferocity and vigilance were truly formidable to a stranger;
+but I hoped that in me they would recognise an old acquaintance, and
+suffer me to approach. In this I was not mistaken. Though my person
+could not be distinctly seen by starlight, they seemed to scent me from
+afar, and met me with a thousand caresses.</p>
+
+<p>Approaching the house, I perceived that its tenants were retired to
+their repose. This I expected, and hastened to awaken Mr. Ellis, by
+knocking briskly at the door. Presently he looked out of a window above,
+and, in answer to his inquiries, in which impatience at being so
+unseasonably disturbed was mingled with anxiety, I told him my name, and
+entreated him to come down and allow me a few minutes' conversation. He
+speedily dressed himself, and, opening the kitchen door, we seated
+ourselves before the fire.</p>
+
+<p>My appearance was sufficiently adapted to excite his wonder; he had
+heard of my elopement from the house of Mr. Hadwin, he was a stranger to
+the motives that prompted my departure, and to the events that had
+befallen me, and no interview was more distant from his expectations
+than the present. His curiosity was written in his features, but this
+was no time to gratify his curiosity. The end that I now had in view was
+to procure accommodation for Eliza Hadwin in this man's house. For this
+purpose it was my duty to describe, with simplicity and truth, the
+inconveniences which at present surrounded her, and to relate all that
+had happened since my arrival.</p>
+
+<p>I perceived that my tale excited his compassion, and I continued with
+new zeal to paint to him the helplessness of this girl. The death of
+her father and sister left her the property of this farm. Her sex and
+age disqualified her for superintending the harvest-field and the
+threshing-floor; and no expedient was left but to lease the land to
+another, and, taking up her abode in the family of some kinsman or
+friend, to subsist, as she might easily do, upon the rent. Meanwhile her
+continuance in this house was equally useless and dangerous, and I
+insinuated to my companion the propriety of immediately removing her to
+his own.</p>
+
+<p>Some hesitation and reluctance appeared in him, which I immediately
+ascribed to an absurd dread of infection. I endeavoured, by appealing to
+his reason as well as to his pity, to conquer this dread. I pointed out
+the true cause of the death of the elder daughter, and assured him the
+youngest knew no indisposition but that which arose from distress. I
+offered to save him from any hazard that might attend his approaching
+the house, by accompanying her hither myself. All that her safety
+required was that his doors should not be shut against her when she
+presented herself before them.</p>
+
+<p>Still he was fearful and reluctant; and, at length, mentioned that her
+uncle resided not more than sixteen miles farther; that he was her
+natural protector, and, he dared to say, would find no difficulty in
+admitting her into his house. For his part, there might be reason in
+what I said, but he could not bring himself to think but that there was
+still some danger of <i>the fever</i>. It was right to assist people in
+distress, to-be-sure; but to risk his own life he did not think to be
+his duty. He was no relation of the family, and it was the duty of
+relations to help each other. Her uncle was the proper person to assist
+her, and no doubt he would be as willing as able.</p>
+
+<p>The marks of dubiousness and indecision which accompanied these words
+encouraged me in endeavouring to subdue his scruples. The increase of
+his aversion to my scheme kept pace with my remonstrances, and he
+finally declared that he would, on no account, consent to it.</p>
+
+<p>Ellis was by no means hard of heart. His determination did not prove the
+coldness of his charity, but merely the strength of his fears. He was
+himself an object more of compassion than of anger; and he acted like
+the man whose fear of death prompts him to push his companion from the
+plank which saved him from drowning, but which is unable to sustain
+both. Finding him invincible to my entreaties, I thought upon the
+expedient which he suggested of seeking the protection of her uncle. It
+was true that the loss of parents had rendered her uncle her legal
+protector. His knowledge of the world; his house and property and
+influence, would, perhaps, fit him for this office in a more eminent
+degree than I was fitted. To seek a different asylum might, indeed, be
+unjust to both; and, after some reflection, I not only dismissed the
+regret which Ellis's refusal had given me, but even thanked him for the
+intelligence and counsel which he had afforded me. I took leave of him,
+and hastened back to Hadwin's.</p>
+
+<p>Eliza, by Caleb's report, was still asleep. There was no urgent
+necessity for awakening her; but something was forthwith to be done with
+regard to the unhappy girl that was dead. The proceeding incumbent on us
+was obvious. All that remained was to dig a grave, and to deposit the
+remains with as much solemnity and decency as the time would permit.
+There were two methods of doing this. I might wait till the next day;
+till a coffin could be made and conveyed hither; till the woman, whose
+trade it was to make and put on the habiliments assigned by custom to
+the dead, could be sought out and hired to attend; till kindred,
+friends, and neighbours could be summoned to the obsequies; till a
+carriage were provided to remove the body to a burying-ground, belonging
+to a meeting-house, and five miles distant; till those whose trade it
+was to dig graves had prepared one, within the sacred enclosure, for her
+reception; or, neglecting this toilsome, tedious, and expensive
+ceremonial, I might seek the grave of Hadwin, and lay the daughter by
+the side of her parent.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps I was strong in my preference of the latter mode. The customs of
+burial may, in most cases, be in themselves proper. If the customs be
+absurd, yet it may be generally proper to adhere to them; but doubtless
+there are cases in which it is our duty to omit them. I conceived the
+present case to be such a one.</p>
+
+<p>The season was bleak and inclement. Much time, labour, and expense would
+be required to go through the customary rites. There was none but myself
+to perform these, and I had not the suitable means. The misery of Eliza
+would only be prolonged by adhering to these forms, and her fortune be
+needlessly diminished by the expenses unavoidably to be incurred.</p>
+
+<p>After musing upon these ideas for some time, I rose from my seat, and
+desired Caleb to follow me. We proceeded to an outer shed where farmers'
+tools used to be kept. I supplied him and myself with a spade, and
+requested him to lead me to the spot where Mr. Hadwin was laid.</p>
+
+<p>He betrayed some hesitation to comply, and appeared struck with some
+degree of alarm, as if my purpose had been to molest, instead of
+securing, the repose of the dead. I removed his doubts by explaining my
+intentions; but he was scarcely less shocked, on discovering the truth,
+than he had been alarmed by his first suspicions. He stammered out his
+objections to my scheme. There was but one mode of burial, he thought,
+that was decent and proper, and he could not be free to assist me in
+pursuing any other mode.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps Caleb's aversion to the scheme might have been easily overcome;
+but I reflected that a mind like his was at once flexible and obstinate.
+He might yield to arguments and entreaties, and act by their immediate
+impulse; but the impulse passed away in a moment, old and habitual
+convictions were resumed, and his deviation from the beaten track would
+be merely productive of compunction. His aid, on the present occasion,
+though of some use, was by no means indispensable. I forbore to solicit
+his concurrence, or even to vanquish the scruples he entertained against
+directing me to the grave of Hadwin. It was a groundless superstition
+that made one spot more suitable for this purpose than another. I
+desired Caleb, in a mild tone, to return to the kitchen, and leave me to
+act as I thought proper. I then proceeded to the orchard.</p>
+
+<p>One corner of this field was somewhat above the level of the rest. The
+tallest tree of the group grew there, and there I had formerly placed a
+bench, and made it my retreat at periods of leisure. It had been
+recommended by its sequestered situation, its luxuriant verdure, and
+profound quiet. On one side was a potato-field, on the other a
+<i>melon-patch</i>; and before me, in rows, some hundreds of apple-trees.
+Here I was accustomed to seek the benefits of contemplation and study
+the manuscripts of Lodi. A few months had passed since I had last
+visited this spot. What revolutions had since occurred, and how gloomily
+contrasted was my present purpose with what had formerly led me hither!</p>
+
+<p>In this spot I had hastily determined to dig the grave of Susan. The
+grave was dug. All that I desired was a cavity of sufficient dimensions
+to receive her. This being made, I returned to the house, lifted the
+corpse in my arms, and bore it without delay to the spot. Caleb, seated
+in the kitchen, and Eliza, asleep in her chamber, were wholly unapprized
+of my motions. The grave was covered, the spade reposited under the
+shed, and my seat by the kitchen-fire resumed in a time apparently too
+short for so solemn and momentous a transaction.</p>
+
+<p>I look back upon this incident with emotions not easily described. It
+seems as if I acted with too much precipitation; as if insensibility,
+and not reason, had occasioned that clearness of conceptions, and
+bestowed that firmness of muscles, which I then experienced. I neither
+trembled nor wavered in my purpose. I bore in my arms the being whom I
+had known and loved, through the whistling gale and intense darkness of
+a winter's night; I heaped earth upon her limbs, and covered them from
+human observation, without fluctuations or tremors, though not without
+feelings that were awful and sublime.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps some part of my steadfastness was owing to my late experience,
+and some minds may be more easily inured to perilous emergencies than
+others. If reason acquires strength only by the diminution of
+sensibility, perhaps it is just for sensibility to be diminished.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXI.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The safety of Eliza was the object that now occupied my cares. To have
+slept, after her example, had been most proper; but my uncertainty with
+regard to her fate, and my desire to conduct her to some other home,
+kept my thoughts in perpetual motion. I waited with impatience till she
+should awake and allow me to consult with her on plans for futurity.</p>
+
+<p>Her sleep terminated not till the next day had arisen. Having recovered
+the remembrance of what had lately happened, she inquired for her
+sister. She wanted to view once more the face and kiss the lips of her
+beloved Susan. Some relief to her anguish she expected to derive from
+this privilege.</p>
+
+<p>When informed of the truth, when convinced that Susan had disappeared
+forever, she broke forth into fresh passion. It seemed as if her loss
+was not hopeless or complete as long as she was suffered to behold the
+face of her friend and to touch her lips. She accused me of acting
+without warrant and without justice; of defrauding her of her dearest
+and only consolation; and of treating her sister's sacred remains with
+barbarous indifference and rudeness.</p>
+
+<p>I explained in the gentlest terms the reasons of my conduct. I was not
+surprised or vexed that she, at first, treated them as futile, and as
+heightening my offence. Such was the impulse of a grief which was
+properly excited by her loss. To be tranquil and steadfast, in the midst
+of the usual causes of impetuosity and agony, is either the prerogative
+of wisdom that sublimes itself above all selfish considerations, or the
+badge of giddy and unfeeling folly.</p>
+
+<p>The torrent was at length exhausted. Upbraiding was at an end; and
+gratitude, and tenderness, and implicit acquiescence in any scheme which
+my prudence should suggest, succeeded. I mentioned her uncle as one to
+whom it would be proper, in her present distress, to apply.</p>
+
+<p>She started and betrayed uneasiness at this name. It was evident that
+she by no means concurred with me in my notions of propriety; that she
+thought with aversion of seeking her uncle's protection. I requested her
+to state her objections to this scheme, or to mention any other which
+she thought preferable.</p>
+
+<p>She knew nobody. She had not a friend in the world but myself. She had
+never been out of her father's house. She had no relation but her uncle
+Philip, and he&mdash;she could not live with him. I must not insist upon her
+going to his house. It was not the place for her. She should never be
+happy there.</p>
+
+<p>I was, at first, inclined to suspect in my friend some capricious and
+groundless antipathy. I desired her to explain what in her uncle's
+character made him so obnoxious. She refused to be more explicit, and
+persisted in thinking that his house was no suitable abode for her.</p>
+
+<p>Finding her, in this respect, invincible, I sought for some other
+expedient. Might she not easily be accommodated as a boarder in the
+city, or some village, or in a remote quarter of the country? Ellis, her
+nearest and most opulent neighbour, had refused to receive her; but
+there were others who had not his fears. There were others, within the
+compass of a day's journey, who were strangers to the cause of Hadwin's
+death; but would it not be culpable to take advantage of that ignorance?
+Their compliance ought not to be the result of deception.</p>
+
+<p>While thus engaged, the incidents of my late journey recurred to my
+remembrance, and I asked, "Is not the honest woman, who entertained
+Wallace, just such a person as that of whom I am in search? Her
+treatment of Wallace shows her to be exempt from chimerical fears,
+proves that she has room in her house for an occasional inmate."</p>
+
+<p>Encouraged by these views, I told my weeping companion that I had
+recollected a family in which she would be kindly treated; and that, if
+she chose, we would not lose a moment in repairing thither. Horses,
+belonging to the farm, grazed in the meadows, and a couple of these
+would carry us in a few hours to the place which I had selected for her
+residence. On her eagerly assenting to this proposal, I inquired in
+whose care, and in what state, our present habitation should be left.</p>
+
+<p>The father's property now belonged to the daughter. Eliza's mind was
+quick, active, and sagacious; but her total inexperience gave her
+sometimes the appearance of folly. She was eager to fly from this house,
+and to resign herself and her property, without limitation or condition,
+to my control. Our intercourse had been short, but she relied on my
+protection and counsel as absolutely as she had been accustomed to do
+upon her father's.</p>
+
+<p>She knew not what answer to make to my inquiry. Whatever I pleased to do
+was the best. What did I think ought to be done?</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" thought I, "sweet, artless, and simple girl! how wouldst thou have
+fared, if Heaven had not sent me to thy succour? There are beings in the
+world who would make a selfish use of thy confidence; who would beguile
+thee at once of innocence and property. Such am not I. Thy welfare is a
+precious deposit, and no father or brother could watch over it with more
+solicitude than I will do."</p>
+
+<p>I was aware that Mr. Hadwin might have fixed the destination of his
+property, and the guardianship of his daughters, by will. On suggesting
+this to my friend, it instantly reminded her of an incident that took
+place after his last return from the city. He had drawn up his will, and
+gave it into Susan's possession, who placed it in a drawer, whence it
+was now taken by my friend.</p>
+
+<p>By this will his property was now found to be bequeathed to his two
+daughters; and his brother, Philip Hadwin, was named executor, and
+guardian to his daughters till they should be twenty years old. This
+name was no sooner heard by my friend, than she exclaimed, in a tone of
+affright, "Executor! My uncle! What is that? What power does that give
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know not exactly the power of executors. He will, doubtless, have
+possession of your property till you are twenty years of age. Your
+person will likewise be under his care till that time."</p>
+
+<p>"Must he decide where I am to live?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is vested with all the power of a father."</p>
+
+<p>This assurance excited the deepest consternation. She fixed her eyes on
+the ground, and was lost, for a time, in the deepest reverie.
+Recovering, at length, she said, with a sigh, "What if my father had
+made no will?"</p>
+
+<p>"In that case, a guardian could not be dispensed with, but the right of
+naming him would belong to yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"And my uncle would have nothing to do with my affairs?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am no lawyer," said I; "but I presume all authority over your person
+and property would devolve upon the guardian of your own choice."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I am free." Saying this, with a sudden motion, she tore in several
+pieces the will, which, during this dialogue, she had held in her hand,
+and threw the fragments into the fire.</p>
+
+<p>No action was more unexpected to me than this. My astonishment hindered
+me from attempting to rescue the paper from the flames. It was consumed
+in a moment. I was at a loss in what manner to regard this sacrifice. It
+denoted a force of mind little in unison with that simplicity and
+helplessness which this girl had hitherto displayed. It argued the
+deepest apprehensions of mistreatment from her uncle. Whether his
+conduct had justified this violent antipathy, I had no means of judging.
+Mr. Hadwin's choice of him, as his executor, was certainly one proof of
+his integrity.</p>
+
+<p>My abstraction was noticed by Eliza with visible anxiety. It was plain
+that she dreaded the impression which this act of seeming temerity had
+made upon me. "Do not be angry with me," said she; "perhaps I have been
+wrong, but I could not help it. I will have but one guardian and one
+protector."</p>
+
+<p>The deed was irrevocable. In my present ignorance of the domestic
+history of the Hadwins, I was unqualified to judge how far circumstances
+might extenuate or justify the act. On both accounts, therefore, it was
+improper to expatiate upon it.</p>
+
+<p>It was concluded to leave the care of the house to honest Caleb; to
+fasten closets and drawers, and, carrying away the money which was found
+in one of them, and which amounted to no inconsiderable sum, to repair
+to the house formerly mentioned. The air was cold; a heavy snow began to
+fall in the night; the wind blew tempestuously; and we were compelled to
+confront it.</p>
+
+<p>In leaving her dwelling, in which she had spent her whole life, the
+unhappy girl gave way afresh to her sorrow. It made her feeble and
+helpless. When placed upon the horse, she was scarcely able to maintain
+her seat. Already chilled by the cold, blinded by the drifting snow, and
+cut by the blast, all my remonstrances were needed to inspire her with
+resolution.</p>
+
+<p>I am not accustomed to regard the elements, or suffer them to retard or
+divert me from any design that I have formed. I had overlooked the weak
+and delicate frame of my companion, and made no account of her being
+less able to support cold and fatigue than myself. It was not till we
+had made some progress in our way, that I began to view, in their true
+light, the obstacles that were to be encountered. I conceived it,
+however, too late to retreat, and endeavoured to push on with speed.</p>
+
+<p>My companion was a skilful rider, but her steed was refractory and
+unmanageable. She was able, however, to curb his spirit till we had
+proceeded ten or twelve miles from Malverton. The wind and the cold
+became too violent to be longer endured, and I resolved to stop at the
+first house which should present itself to my view, for the sake of
+refreshment and warmth.</p>
+
+<p>We now entered a wood of some extent, at the termination of which I
+remembered that a dwelling stood. To pass this wood, therefore, with
+expedition, was all that remained before we could reach a hospitable
+asylum. I endeavoured to sustain, by this information, the sinking
+spirits of my companion. While busy in conversing with her, a blast of
+irresistible force twisted off the highest branch of a tree before us.
+It fell in the midst of the road, at the distance of a few feet from her
+horse's head. Terrified by this accident, the horse started from the
+path, and, rushing into the wood, in a moment threw himself and his
+rider on the ground, by encountering the rugged stock of an oak.</p>
+
+<p>I dismounted and flew to her succour. The snow was already dyed with the
+blood which flowed from some wound in her head, and she lay without
+sense or motion. My terrors did not hinder me from anxiously searching
+for the hurt which was received, and ascertaining the extent of the
+injury. Her forehead was considerably bruised; but, to my unspeakable
+joy, the blood flowed from the nostrils, and was, therefore, to be
+regarded as no mortal symptom.</p>
+
+<p>I lifted her in my arms, and looked around me for some means of relief.
+The house at which I proposed to stop was upwards of a mile distant. I
+remembered none that was nearer. To place the wounded girl on my own
+horse, and proceed gently to the house in question, was the sole
+expedient; but, at present, she was senseless, and might, on recovering,
+be too feeble to sustain her own weight.</p>
+
+<p>To recall her to life was my first duty; but I was powerless, or
+unacquainted with the means. I gazed upon her features, and endeavoured,
+by pressing her in my arms, to inspire her with some warmth. I looked
+towards the road, and listened for the wished-for sound of some carriage
+that might be prevailed on to stop and receive her. Nothing was more
+improbable than that either pleasure or business would induce men to
+encounter so chilling and vehement a blast. To be lighted on by some
+traveller was, therefore, a hopeless event.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, Eliza's swoon continued, and my alarm increased. What effect
+her half-frozen blood would have in prolonging this condition, or
+preventing her return to life, awakened the deepest apprehensions. I
+left the wood, still bearing her in my arms, and re-entered the road,
+from the desire of descrying, as soon as possible, the coming passenger.
+I looked this way and that, and again listened. Nothing but the sweeping
+blast, rent and fallen branches, and snow that filled and obscured the
+air, were perceivable. Each moment retarded the course of my own blood
+and stiffened my sinews, and made the state of my companion more
+desperate. How was I to act? To perish myself, or see her perish, was an
+ignoble fate; courage and activity were still able to avert it. My horse
+stood near, docile and obsequious; to mount him and to proceed on my
+way, holding my lifeless burden in my arms, was all that remained.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment my attention was called by several voices issuing from
+the wood. It was the note of gayety and glee. Presently a sleigh, with
+several persons of both sexes, appeared, in a road which led through the
+forest into that in which I stood. They moved at a quick pace, but their
+voices were hushed, and they checked the speed of their horses, on
+discovering us. No occurrence was more auspicious than this; for I
+relied with perfect confidence on the benevolence of these persons, and,
+as soon as they came near, claimed their assistance.</p>
+
+<p>My story was listened to with sympathy, and one of the young men,
+leaping from the sleigh, assisted me in placing Eliza in the place which
+he had left. A female, of sweet aspect and engaging manners, insisted
+upon turning back and hastening to the house, where it seems her father
+resided, and which the party had just left. I rode after the sleigh,
+which in a few minutes arrived at the house. The dwelling was spacious
+and neat, and a venerable man and woman, alarmed by the quick return of
+the young people, came forth to know the cause. They received their
+guest with the utmost tenderness, and provided her with all the
+accommodations which her condition required. Their daughter relinquished
+the scheme of pleasure in which she had been engaged, and, compelling
+her companions to depart without her, remained to nurse and console the
+sick.</p>
+
+<p>A little time showed that no lasting injury had been suffered.
+Contusions, more troublesome than dangerous, and easily curable by such
+applications as rural and traditional wisdom has discovered, were the
+only consequences of the fall. My mind, being relieved from
+apprehensions on this score, had leisure to reflect upon the use which
+might be made of the present state of things.</p>
+
+<p>When I remarked the structure of this house, and the features and
+deportment of its inhabitants, methought I discerned a powerful
+resemblance between this family and Hadwin's. It seemed as if some
+benignant power had led us hither as to the most suitable asylum that
+could be obtained; and, in order to supply to the forlorn Eliza the
+place of those parents and that sister she had lost, I conceived that,
+if their concurrence could be gained, no abode was more suitable than
+this. No time was to be lost in gaining this concurrence. The curiosity
+of our host and hostess, whose name was Curling, speedily afforded me an
+opportunity to disclose the history and real situation of my friend.
+There were no motives to reserve or prevarication. There was nothing
+which I did not faithfully and circumstantially relate. I concluded with
+stating my wishes that they would admit my friend as a boarder into
+their house.</p>
+
+<p>The old man was warm in his concurrence. His wife betrayed some
+scruples; which, however, her husband's arguments and mine removed. I
+did not even suppress the tenor and destruction of the will, and the
+antipathy which Eliza had conceived for her uncle, and which I declared
+myself unable to explain. It presently appeared that Mr. Curling had
+some knowledge of Philip Hadwin, and that the latter had acquired the
+repute of being obdurate and profligate. He employed all means to
+accomplish his selfish ends, and would probably endeavour to usurp the
+property which his brother had left. To provide against his power and
+his malice would be particularly incumbent on us, and my new friend
+readily promised his assistance in the measures which we should take to
+that end.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The state of my feelings may be easily conceived to consist of mixed,
+but, on the whole, of agreeable, sensations. The death of Hadwin and his
+elder daughter could not be thought upon without keen regrets. These it
+was useless to indulge, and were outweighed by reflections on the
+personal security in which the survivor was now placed. It was hurtful
+to expend my unprofitable cares upon the dead, while there existed one
+to whom they could be of essential benefit, and in whose happiness they
+would find an ample compensation.</p>
+
+<p>This happiness, however, was still incomplete. It was still exposed to
+hazard, and much remained to be done before adequate provision was made
+against the worst of evils, poverty. I now found that Eliza, being only
+fifteen years old, stood in need of a guardian, and that the forms of
+law required that some one should make himself her father's
+administrator. Mr. Curling, being tolerably conversant with these
+subjects, pointed out the mode to be pursued, and engaged to act on this
+occasion as Eliza's friend.</p>
+
+<p>There was another topic on which my happiness, as well as that of my
+friend, required us to form some decision. I formerly mentioned, that,
+during my abode at Malverton, I had not been insensible to the
+attractions of this girl. An affection had stolen upon me, for which it
+was easily discovered that I should not have been denied a suitable
+return. My reasons for stifling these emotions, at that time, have been
+mentioned. It may now be asked, what effect subsequent events had
+produced on my feelings, and how far partaking and relieving her
+distresses had revived a passion which may readily be supposed to have
+been, at no time, entirely extinguished.</p>
+
+<p>The impediments which then existed were removed. Our union would no
+longer risk the resentment or sorrow of her excellent parent. She had no
+longer a sister to divide with her the property of the farm, and make
+what was sufficient for both, when living together, too little for
+either separately. Her youth and simplicity required, beyond most
+others, a legal protector, and her happiness was involved in the success
+of those hopes which she took no pains to conceal.</p>
+
+<p>As to me, it seemed at first view as if every incident conspired to
+determine my choice. Omitting all regard to the happiness of others, my
+own interest could not fail to recommend a scheme by which the precious
+benefits of competence and independence might be honestly obtained. The
+excursions of my fancy had sometimes carried me beyond the bounds
+prescribed by my situation, but they were, nevertheless, limited to that
+field to which I had once some prospect of acquiring a title. All I
+wanted for the basis of my gaudiest and most dazzling structures was a
+hundred acres of plough-land and meadow. Here my spirit of improvement,
+my zeal to invent and apply new maxims of household luxury and
+convenience, new modes and instruments of tillage, new arts connected
+with orchard, garden, and cornfield, were supplied with abundant scope.
+Though the want of these would not benumb my activity, or take away
+content, the possession would confer exquisite and permanent enjoyments.</p>
+
+<p>My thoughts have ever hovered over the images of wife and children with
+more delight than over any other images. My fancy was always active on
+this theme, and its reveries sufficiently ecstatic and glowing; but,
+since my intercourse with this girl, my scattered visions were collected
+and concentrated. I had now a form and features before me; a sweet and
+melodious voice vibrated in my ear; my soul was filled, as it were, with
+her lineaments and gestures, actions and looks. All ideas, possessing
+any relation to beauty or sex, appeared to assume this shape. They kept
+an immovable place in my mind, they diffused around them an ineffable
+complacency. Love is merely of value as a prelude to a more tender,
+intimate, and sacred union. Was I not in love? and did I not pant after
+the irrevocable bounds, the boundless privileges, of wedlock?</p>
+
+<p>The question which others might ask, I have asked myself:&mdash;Was I not in
+love? I am really at a loss for an answer. There seemed to be
+irresistible weight in the reasons why I should refuse to marry, and
+even forbear to foster love in my friend. I considered my youth, my
+defective education, and my limited views. I had passed from my cottage
+into the world. I had acquired, even in my transient sojourn among the
+busy haunts of men, more knowledge than the lucubrations and employments
+of all my previous years had conferred. Hence I might infer the
+childlike immaturity of my understanding, and the rapid progress I was
+still capable of making. Was this an age to form an irrevocable
+contract; to choose the companion of my future life, the associate of my
+schemes of intellectual and benevolent activity?</p>
+
+<p>I had reason to contemn my own acquisitions; but were not those of Eliza
+still more slender? Could I rely upon the permanence of her equanimity
+and her docility to my instructions? What qualities might not time
+unfold, and how little was I qualified to estimate the character of one
+whom no vicissitude or hardship had approached before the death of her
+father,&mdash;whose ignorance was, indeed, great, when it could justly be
+said even to exceed my own!</p>
+
+<p>Should I mix with the world, enroll myself in different classes of
+society, be a witness to new scenes; might not my modes of judging
+undergo essential variations? Might I not gain the knowledge of beings
+whose virtue was the gift of experience and the growth of knowledge? who
+joined to the modesty and charms of woman the benefits of education, the
+maturity and steadfastness of age, and with whose character and
+sentiments my own would be much more congenial than they could possibly
+be with the extreme youth, rustic simplicity, and mental imperfections
+of Eliza Hadwin?</p>
+
+<p>To say truth, I was now conscious of a revolution in my mind. I can
+scarcely assign its true cause. No tokens of it appeared during my late
+retreat to Malverton. Subsequent incidents, perhaps, joined with the
+influence of meditation, had generated new views. On my first visit to
+the city, I had met with nothing but scenes of folly, depravity, and
+cunning. No wonder that the images connected with the city were
+disastrous and gloomy; but my second visit produced somewhat different
+impressions. Maravegli, Estwick, Medlicote, and you, were beings who
+inspired veneration and love. Your residence appeared to beautify and
+consecrate this spot, and gave birth to an opinion that, if cities are
+the chosen seats of misery and vice, they are likewise the soil of all
+the laudable and strenuous productions of mind.</p>
+
+<p>My curiosity and thirst of knowledge had likewise received a new
+direction. Books and inanimate nature were cold and lifeless
+instructors. Men, and the works of men, were the objects of rational
+study, and our own eyes only could communicate just conceptions of human
+performances. The influence of manners, professions, and social
+institutions, could be thoroughly known only by direct inspection.</p>
+
+<p>Competence, fixed property and a settled abode, rural occupations and
+conjugal pleasures, were justly to be prized; but their value could be
+known and their benefits fully enjoyed only by those who have tried all
+scenes; who have mixed with all classes and ranks; who have partaken of
+all conditions; and who have visited different hemispheres and climates
+and nations. The next five or eight years of my life should be devoted
+to activity and change; it should be a period of hardship, danger, and
+privation; it should be my apprenticeship to fortitude and wisdom, and
+be employed to fit me for the tranquil pleasures and steadfast exertions
+of the remainder of my life.</p>
+
+<p>In consequence of these reflections, I determined to suppress that
+tenderness which the company of Miss Hadwin produced, to remove any
+mistakes into which she had fallen, and to put it out of my power to
+claim for her more than the dues of friendship. All ambiguities, in a
+case like this, and all delays, were hurtful. She was not exempt from
+passion, but this passion, I thought, was young, and easily
+extinguished.</p>
+
+<p>In a short time her health was restored, and her grief melted down into
+a tender melancholy. I chose a suitable moment, when not embarrassed by
+the presence of others, to reveal my thoughts. My disclosure was
+ingenuous and perfect. I laid before her the whole train of my thoughts,
+nearly in the order, though in different and more copious terms than
+those, in which I have just explained them to you. I concealed nothing.
+The impression which her artless loveliness had made upon me at
+Malverton; my motives for estranging myself from her society; the nature
+of my present feelings with regard to her, and my belief of the state of
+her heart; the reasonings into which I had entered; the advantages of
+wedlock and its inconveniences; and, finally, the resolution I had
+formed of seeking the city, and, perhaps, of crossing the ocean, were
+minutely detailed.</p>
+
+<p>She interrupted me not, but changing looks, blushes, flutterings, and
+sighs, showed her to be deeply and variously affected by my discourse. I
+paused for some observation or comment. She seemed conscious of my
+expectation, but had no power to speak. Overpowered, at length, by her
+emotions, she burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>I was at a loss in what manner to construe these symptoms. I waited till
+her vehemence was somewhat subsided, and then said, "What think you of
+my schemes? Your approbation is of some moment: do you approve of them
+or not?"</p>
+
+<p>This question excited some little resentment, and she answered, "You
+have left me nothing to say. Go, and be happy; no matter what becomes of
+me. I hope I shall be able to take care of myself."</p>
+
+<p>The tone in which this was said had something in it of upbraiding. "Your
+happiness," said I, "is too dear to me to leave it in danger. In this
+house you will not need my protection, but I shall never be so far from
+you as to be disabled from hearing how you fare, by letter, and of being
+active for your good. You have some money, which you must husband well.
+Any rent from your farm cannot be soon expected; but what you have got,
+if you remain with Mr. Curling, will pay your board and all other
+expenses for two years; but you must be a good economist. I shall
+expect," continued I, with a serious smile, "a punctual account of all
+your sayings and doings. I must know how every minute is employed and
+every penny is expended, and, if I find you erring, I must tell you so
+in good round terms."</p>
+
+<p>These words did not dissipate the sullenness which her looks had
+betrayed. She still forbore to look at me, and said, "I do not know how
+I should tell you every thing. You care so little about me that&mdash;I
+should only be troublesome. I am old enough to think and act for myself,
+and shall advise with nobody but myself."</p>
+
+<p>"That is true," said I. "I shall rejoice to see you independent and
+free. Consult your own understanding, and act according to its dictates.
+Nothing more is wanting to make you useful and happy. I am anxious to
+return to the city, but, if you will allow me, will go first to
+Malverton, see that things are in due order, and that old Caleb is well.
+From thence, if you please, I will call at your uncle's, and tell him
+what has happened. He may, otherwise, entertain pretensions and form
+views erroneous in themselves and injurious to you. He may think himself
+entitled to manage your estate. He may either suppose a will to have
+been made, or may actually have heard from your father, or from others,
+of that which you burnt, and in which he was named executor. His
+boisterous and sordid temper may prompt him to seize your house and
+goods, unless seasonably apprized of the truth; and, when he knows the
+truth, he may start into rage, which I shall be more fitted to encounter
+than you. I am told that anger transforms him into a ferocious madman.
+Shall I call upon him?"</p>
+
+<p>She shuddered at the picture which I had drawn of her uncle's character;
+but this emotion quickly gave place to self-upbraiding for the manner in
+which she had repelled my proffers of service. She melted once more into
+tears, and exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I am not worthy of the pains you take for me. I am unfeeling and
+ungrateful. Why should I think ill of you for despising me, when I
+despise myself?"</p>
+
+<p>"You do yourself injustice, my friend. I think I see your most secret
+thoughts; and these, instead of exciting anger or contempt, only awaken
+compassion and tenderness. You love; and must, therefore, conceive my
+conduct to be perverse and cruel. I counted on your harbouring such
+thoughts. Time only and reflection will enable you to see my motives in
+their true light. Hereafter you will recollect my words, and find them
+sufficient to justify my conduct. You will acknowledge the propriety of
+my engaging in the cares of the world before I sit down in retirement
+and ease."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! how much you mistake me! I admire and approve of your schemes. What
+angers and distresses me is, that you think me unworthy to partake of
+your cares and labours; that you regard my company as an obstacle and
+encumbrance; that assistance and counsel must all proceed from you; and
+that no scene is fit for me, but what you regard as slothful and
+inglorious.</p>
+
+<p>"Have I not the same claims to be wise, and active, and courageous, as
+you? If I am ignorant and weak, do I not owe it to the same cause that
+has made you so? and will not the same means which promote your
+improvement be likewise useful to me? You desire to obtain knowledge, by
+travelling and conversing with many persons, and studying many sciences;
+but you desire it for yourself alone. Me you think poor, weak, and
+contemptible; fit for nothing but to spin and churn. Provided I exist,
+am screened from the weather, have enough to eat and drink, you are
+satisfied. As to strengthening my mind and enlarging my knowledge, these
+things are valuable to you, but on me they are thrown away. I deserve
+not the gift."</p>
+
+<p>This strain, simple and just as it was, was wholly unexpected. I was
+surprised and disconcerted. In my previous reasonings I had certainly
+considered her sex as utterly unfitting her for those scenes and
+pursuits to which I had destined myself. Not a doubt of the validity of
+my conclusion had insinuated itself; but now my belief was shaken,
+though it was not subverted. I could not deny that human ignorance was
+curable by the same means in one sex as in the other; that fortitude
+and skill were of no less value to one than to the other.</p>
+
+<p>Questionless, my friend was rendered, by her age and inexperience, if
+not by sex, more helpless and dependent than I; but had I not been prone
+to overrate the difficulties which I should encounter? Had I not deemed
+unjustly of her constancy and force of mind? Marriage would render her
+property joint, and would not compel me to take up my abode in the
+woods, to abide forever in one spot, to shackle my curiosity, or limit
+my excursions.</p>
+
+<p>But marriage was a contract awful and irrevocable. Was this the woman
+with whom my reason enjoined me to blend my fate, without the power of
+dissolution? Would not time unfold qualities in her which I did not at
+present suspect, and which would evince an incurable difference in our
+minds? Would not time lead me to the feet of one who more nearly
+approached that standard of ideal excellence which poets and romancers
+had exhibited to my view?</p>
+
+<p>These considerations were powerful and delicate. I knew not in what
+terms to state them to my companion, so as to preclude the imputation of
+arrogance or indecorum. It became me, however, to be explicit, and to
+excite her resentment rather than mislead her judgment. She collected my
+meaning from a few words, and, interrupting me, said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"How very low is the poor Eliza in your opinion! We are, indeed, both
+too young to be married. May I not see you, and talk with you, without
+being your wife? May I not share your knowledge, relieve your cares, and
+enjoy your confidence, as a sister might do? May I not accompany you in
+your journeys and studies, as one friend accompanies another? My
+property may be yours; you may employ it for your benefit and mine; not
+because you are my husband, but my friend. You are going to the city.
+Let me go along with you. Let me live where you live. The house that is
+large enough to hold you will hold me. The fare that is good enough for
+you will be luxury to me. Oh! let it be so, will you?</p>
+
+<p>"You cannot think how studious, how thoughtful, how inquisitive, I will
+be. How tenderly I will nurse you when sick! it is possible you may be
+sick, you know, and, no one in the world will be half so watchful and
+affectionate as I shall be. Will you let me?"</p>
+
+<p>In saying this, her earnestness gave new pathos to her voice. Insensibly
+she put her face close to mine, and, transported beyond the usual bounds
+of reserve by the charms of that picture which her fancy contemplated,
+she put her lips to my cheek, and repeated, in a melting accent, "Will
+you let me?"</p>
+
+<p>You, my friends, who have not seen Eliza Hadwin, cannot conceive what
+effect this entreaty was adapted to produce in me. She has surely the
+sweetest voice, the most speaking features, and most delicate symmetry,
+that ever woman possessed. Her guileless simplicity and tenderness made
+her more enchanting. To be the object of devotion to a heart so fervent
+and pure was, surely, no common privilege. Thus did she tender me
+herself; and was not the gift to be received with eagerness and
+gratitude?</p>
+
+<p>No. I was not so much a stranger to mankind as to acquiesce in this
+scheme. As my sister or my wife, the world would suffer us to reside
+under the same roof; to apply to common use the same property; and daily
+to enjoy the company of each other; but she was not my sister, and
+marriage would be an act of the grossest indiscretion. I explained to
+her, in few words, the objections to which her project was liable.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then," said she, "let me live in the next house, in the
+neighbourhood, or, at least, in the same city. Let me be where I may see
+you once a day, or once a week, or once a month. Shut me not wholly from
+your society, and the means of becoming, in time, less ignorant and
+foolish than I now am."</p>
+
+<p>After a pause, I replied, "I love you too well not to comply with this
+request. Perhaps the city will be as suitable a residence as any other
+for you, as it will, for some time, be most convenient to me. I shall be
+better able to watch over your welfare, and supply you with the means of
+improvement, when you are within a small distance. At present, you must
+consent to remain here, while I visit your uncle, and afterwards go to
+the city. I shall look out for you a suitable lodging, and inform you
+when it is found. If you then continue in the same mind, I will come,
+and, having gained the approbation of Mr. Curling, will conduct you to
+town." Here ended our dialogue.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Though I had consented to this scheme, I was conscious that some hazards
+attended it. I was afraid of calumny, which might trouble the peace or
+destroy the reputation of my friend. I was afraid of my own weakness,
+which might be seduced into an indiscreet marriage by the charms or
+sufferings of this bewitching creature. I felt that there was no price
+too dear to save her from slander. A fair fame is of the highest
+importance to a young female, and the loss of it but poorly supplied by
+the testimony of her own conscience. I had reason for tenfold solicitude
+on this account, since I was her only protector and friend. Hence, I
+cherished some hopes that time might change her views, and suggest less
+dangerous schemes. Meanwhile, I was to lose no time in visiting
+Malverton and Philip Hadwin.</p>
+
+<p>About ten days had elapsed since we had deserted Malverton. These were
+days of successive storms, and travelling had been rendered
+inconvenient. The weather was now calm and clear, and, early in the
+morning that ensued the dialogue which I have just related, I set out on
+horseback.</p>
+
+<p>Honest Caleb was found eating his breakfast nearly in the spot where he
+had been first discovered. He answered my inquiries by saying, that, two
+days after our departure, several men had come to the house, one of whom
+was Philip Hadwin. They had interrogated him as to the condition of the
+farm, and the purpose of his remaining on it. William Hadwin they knew
+to have been some time dead; but where were the girls, his daughters?</p>
+
+<p>Caleb answered that Susy, the eldest, was likewise dead.</p>
+
+<p>These tidings excited astonishment. When died she, and how, and where
+was she buried?</p>
+
+<p>It happened two days before, and she was buried, he believed, but could
+not tell where.</p>
+
+<p>Not tell where? By whom, then, was she buried?</p>
+
+<p>Really, he could not tell. Some strange man came there just as she was
+dying. He went to the room, and, when she was dead, took her away, but
+what he did with the body was more than he could say, but he had a
+notion that he buried it. The man stayed till the morning, and then went
+off with Lizzy, leaving him to keep house by himself. He had not seen
+either of them, nor, indeed, a single soul since.</p>
+
+<p>This was all the information that Caleb could afford the visitants. It
+was so lame and incredible that they began to charge the man with
+falsehood, and to threaten him with legal animadversion. Just then Mr.
+Ellis entered the house, and, being made acquainted with the subject of
+discourse, told all that he himself knew. He related the midnight visit
+which I had paid him, explained my former situation in the family, and
+my disappearance in September. He stated the advice he had given me to
+carry Eliza to her uncle's, and my promise to comply with his counsel.
+The uncle declared he had seen nothing of his niece, and Caleb added,
+that, when she set out, she took the road that led to town.</p>
+
+<p>These hints afforded grounds for much conjecture and suspicion. Ellis
+now mentioned some intelligence that he had gathered respecting me in a
+late journey to &mdash;&mdash;. It seems I was the son of an honest farmer in that
+quarter, who married a tidy girl of a milkmaid that lived with him. My
+father had detected me in making some atrocious advances to my
+mother-in-law, and had turned me out of doors. I did not go off,
+however, without rifling his drawer of some hundreds of dollars, which
+he had laid up against a rainy day. I was noted for such pranks, and was
+hated by all the neighbours for my pride and laziness. It was easy, by
+comparison of circumstances, for Ellis to ascertain that Hadwin's
+servant Mervyn was the same against whom such heavy charges were laid.</p>
+
+<p>Previously to this journey, he had heard of me from Hadwin, who was loud
+in praise of my diligence, sobriety, and modesty. For his part, he had
+always been cautious of giving countenance to vagrants that came from
+nobody knew where, and worked their way with a plausible tongue. He was
+not surprised to hear it whispered that Betsy Hadwin had fallen in love
+with the youth, and now, no doubt, he had persuaded her to run away with
+him. The heiress of a fine farm was a prize not to be met with every
+day.</p>
+
+<p>Philip broke into rage at this news; swore that if it turned out so, his
+niece should starve upon the town, and that he would take good care to
+balk the lad. His brother he well knew had left a will, to which he was
+executor, and that this will would in good time be forthcoming. After
+much talk and ransacking the house, and swearing at his truant niece, he
+and his company departed, charging Caleb to keep the house and its
+contents for his use. This was all that Caleb's memory had retained of
+that day's proceedings.</p>
+
+<p>Curling had lately commented on the character of Philip Hadwin. This man
+was totally unlike his brother, was a noted brawler and bully, a tyrant
+to his children, a plague to his neighbours, and kept a rendezvous for
+drunkards and idlers, at the sign of the Bull's Head, at &mdash;&mdash;. He was
+not destitute of parts, and was no less dreaded for cunning than
+malignity. He was covetous, and never missed an opportunity of
+overreaching his neighbour. There was no doubt that his niece's property
+would be embezzled should it ever come into his hands, and any power
+which he might obtain over her person would be exercised to her
+destruction. His children were tainted with the dissoluteness of their
+father, and marriage had not repaired the reputation of his daughters,
+or cured them of depravity: this was the man whom I now proposed to
+visit.</p>
+
+<p>I scarcely need to say that the calumny of Betty Lawrence gave me no
+uneasiness. My father had no doubt been deceived, as well as my father's
+neighbours, by the artifices of this woman. I passed among them for a
+thief and a profligate, but their error had hitherto been harmless to
+me. The time might come which should confute the tale without my
+efforts. Betty, sooner or later, would drop her mask, and afford the
+antidote to her own poisons, unless some new incident should occur to
+make me hasten the catastrophe.</p>
+
+<p>I arrived at Hadwin's house. I was received with some attention as a
+guest. I looked, among the pimpled visages that filled the piazza, for
+that of the landlord, but found him in an inner apartment with two or
+three more seated round a table. On intimating my wish to speak with him
+alone, the others withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>Hadwin's visage had some traces of resemblance to his brother; but the
+meek, placid air, pale cheeks, and slender form of the latter were
+powerfully contrasted with the bloated arrogance, imperious brow, and
+robust limbs of the former. This man's rage was awakened by a straw; it
+impelled him in an instant to oaths and buffetings, and made his life an
+eternal brawl. The sooner my interview with such a personage should be
+at an end, the better. I therefore explained the purpose of my coming as
+fully and in as few words as possible.</p>
+
+<p>"Your name, sir, is Philip Hadwin. Your brother William, of Malverton,
+died lately and left two daughters. The youngest only is now alive, and
+I come, commissioned from her, to inform you that, as no will of her
+father's is extant, she is preparing to administer to his estate. As her
+father's brother, she thought you entitled to this information."</p>
+
+<p>The change which took place in the countenance of this man, during this
+address, was remarkable, but not easily described. His cheeks contracted
+a deeper crimson, his eyes sparkled, and his face assumed an expression
+in which curiosity was mingled with rage. He bent forward, and said, in
+a hoarse and contemptuous tone, "Pray, is your name Mervyn?"</p>
+
+<p>I answered, without hesitation, and as if the question were wholly
+unimportant, "Yes; my name is Mervyn."</p>
+
+<p>"God damn it! You then are the damned rascal"&mdash;(but permit me to repeat
+his speech without the oaths with which it was plentifully interlarded.
+Not three words were uttered without being garnished with a&mdash;"God damn
+it!" "damnation!" "I'll be damned to hell if"&mdash;and the like energetic
+expletives.) "You then are the rascal that robbed Billy's house; that
+ran away with the fool his daughter; persuaded her to burn her father's
+will, and have the hellish impudence to come into this house! But I
+thank you for it. I was going to look for you; you've saved me trouble.
+I'll settle all accounts with you here. Fair and softly, my good lad! If
+I don't bring you to the gallows&mdash;If I let you escape without such a
+dressing! Damned impudence! Fellow! I've been at Malverton. I've heard
+of your tricks. So! finding the will not quite to your mind, knowing
+that the executor would balk your schemes, you threw the will into the
+fire; you robbed the house of all the cash, and made off with the
+girl!&mdash;The old fellow saw it all, and will swear to the truth."</p>
+
+<p>These words created some surprise. I meant not to conceal from this man
+the tenor and destruction of the will, nor even the measures which his
+niece had taken or intended to take. What I supposed to be unknown to
+him appeared to have been communicated by the talkative Caleb, whose
+mind was more inquisitive and less sluggish than first appearances had
+led me to imagine. Instead of moping by the kitchen-fire when Eliza and
+I were conversing in an upper room, it now appeared that he had
+reconnoitred our proceedings through some keyhole or crevice, and had
+related what he had seen to Hadwin.</p>
+
+<p>Hadwin proceeded to exhaust his rage in oaths and menaces. He frequently
+clenched his fist and thrust it in my face, drew it back as if to render
+his blow more deadly; ran over the same series of exclamations on my
+impudence and villany, and talked of the gallows and the whipping-post;
+enforced each word by the epithets <i>damnable</i> and <i>hellish</i>; closed each
+sentence with&mdash;"and be curst to you!"</p>
+
+<p>There was but one mode for me to pursue; all forcible opposition to a
+man of his strength was absurd. It was my province to make his anger
+confine itself to words, and patiently to wait till the paroxysm should
+end or subside of itself. To effect this purpose, I kept my seat, and
+carefully excluded from my countenance every indication of timidity and
+panic on the one hand, and of scorn and defiance on the other. My look
+and attitude were those of a man who expected harsh words, but who
+entertained no suspicion that blows would be inflicted.</p>
+
+<p>I was indebted for my safety to an inflexible adherence to this medium.
+To have strayed, for a moment, to either side, would have brought upon
+me his blows. That he did not instantly resort to violence inspired me
+with courage, since it depended on myself whether food should be
+supplied to his passion. Rage must either progress or decline; and,
+since it was in total want of provocation, it could not fail of
+gradually subsiding.</p>
+
+<p>My demeanour was calculated to damp the flame, not only by its direct
+influence, but by diverting his attention from the wrongs which he had
+received, to the novelty of my behaviour. The disparity in size and
+strength between us was too evident to make him believe that I confided
+in my sinews for my defence; and, since I betrayed neither contempt nor
+fear, he could not but conclude that I trusted to my own integrity or to
+his moderation. I seized the first pause in his rhetoric to enforce this
+sentiment.</p>
+
+<p>"You are angry, Mr. Hadwin, and are loud in your threats; but they do
+not frighten me. They excite no apprehension or alarm, because I know
+myself able to convince you that I have not injured you. This is an inn,
+and I am your guest. I am sure I shall find better entertainment than
+blows. Come," continued I, smiling, "it is possible that I am not so
+mischievous a wretch as your fancy paints me. I have no claims upon your
+niece but that of friendship, and she is now in the house of an honest
+man, Mr. Curling, where she proposes to continue as long as is
+convenient.</p>
+
+<p>"It is true that your brother left a will, which his daughter burnt in
+my presence, because she dreaded the authority which that will gave you,
+not only over her property, but person. It is true that on leaving the
+house she took away the money which was now her own, and which was
+necessary to subsistence. It is true that I bore her company, and have
+left her in an honest man's keeping. I am answerable for nothing more.
+As to you, I meant not to injure you; I advised not the burning of the
+will. I was a stranger, till after that event, to your character. I knew
+neither good nor ill of you. I came to tell you all this, because, as
+Eliza's uncle, you had a right to the information."</p>
+
+<p>"So! you come to tell me that she burnt the will, and is going to
+administer&mdash;to what, I beseech you? To her father's property? Ay, I
+warrant you. But take this along with you:&mdash;that property is mine; land,
+house, stock, every thing. All is safe and snug under cover of a
+mortgage, to which Billy was kind enough to add a bond. One was sued,
+and the other <i>entered up</i>, a week ago. So that all is safe under my
+thumb, and the girl may whistle or starve for me. I shall give myself no
+concern about the strumpet. You thought to get a prize; but, damn me,
+you've met with your match in me. Phil Haddin's not so easily choused, I
+promise you. I intended to give you this news, and a drubbing into the
+bargain; but you may go, and make haste. She burnt the will, did she,
+because I was named in it,&mdash;and sent you to tell me so? Good souls! It
+was kind of you, and I am bound to be thankful. Take her back news of
+the mortgage; and, as for you, leave my house. You may go scot-free this
+time; but I pledge my word for a sound beating when you next enter these
+doors. I'll pay it to you with interest. Leave my house, I say!"</p>
+
+<p>"A mortgage," said I, in a low voice, and affecting not to hear his
+commands; "that will be sad news for my friend. Why, sir, you are a
+fortunate man. Malverton is an excellent spot; well watered and manured;
+newly and completely fenced; not a larger barn in the county; oxen and
+horses and cows in the best order; I never set eyes on a finer orchard.
+By my faith, sir, you are a fortunate man. But, pray, what have you for
+dinner? I am hungry as a wolf. Order me a beef-steak, and some potation
+or other. The bottle there,&mdash;it is cider, I take it; pray, push it to
+this side." Saying this, I stretched out my hand towards the bottle
+which stood before him.</p>
+
+<p>I confided in the power of a fearless and sedate manner. Methought
+that, as anger was the food of anger, it must unavoidably subside in a
+contest with equability. This opinion was intuitive, rather than the
+product of experience, and perhaps I gave no proof of my sagacity in
+hazarding my safety on its truth. Hadwin's character made him dreaded
+and obeyed by all. He had been accustomed to ready and tremulous
+submission from men far more brawny and robust than I was, and to find
+his most vehement menaces and gestures totally ineffectual on a being so
+slender and diminutive at once wound up his rage and excited his
+astonishment. One motion counteracted and suspended the other. He lifted
+his hand, but delayed to strike. One blow, applied with his usual
+dexterity, was sufficient to destroy me. Though seemingly careless, I
+was watchful of his motions, and prepared to elude the stroke by
+shrinking or stooping. Meanwhile, I stretched my hand far enough to
+seize the bottle, and, pouring its contents into a tumbler, put it to my
+lips:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Come, sir, I drink your health, and wish you speedy possession of
+Malverton. I have some interest with Eliza, and will prevail on her to
+forbear all opposition and complaint. Why should she complain? While I
+live, she shall not be a beggar. No doubt your claim is legal, and
+therefore ought to be admitted. What the law gave, the law has taken
+away. Blessed be the dispensers of law! Excellent cider! open another
+bottle, will you, and, I beseech, hasten dinner, if you would not see me
+devour the table."</p>
+
+<p>It was just, perhaps, to conjure up the demon avarice to fight with the
+demon anger. Reason alone would, in such a contest, be powerless, but,
+in truth, I spoke without artifice or disguise. If his claim were legal,
+opposition would be absurd and pernicious. I meant not to rely upon his
+own assertions, and would not acknowledge the validity of his claim till
+I had inspected the deed. Having instituted suits, this was now in a
+public office, and there the inspection should be made. Meanwhile, no
+reason could be urged why I should part from him in anger, while his
+kindred to Eliza, and his title to her property, made it useful to
+secure his favour. It was possible to obtain a remission of his claims,
+even when the law enforced them; it would be imprudent at least to
+diminish the chances of remission by fostering his wrath and provoking
+his enmity.</p>
+
+<p>"What!" he exclaimed, in a transport of fury, "a'n't I master of my own
+house? Out, I say!"</p>
+
+<p>These were harsh terms, but they were not accompanied by gestures and
+tones so menacing as those which had before been used. It was plain that
+the tide, which so lately threatened my destruction, had begun to
+recede. This encouraged me to persist.</p>
+
+<p>"Be not alarmed, my good friend," said I, placidly and smiling. "A man
+of your bone need not fear a pigmy like me. I shall scarcely be able to
+dethrone you in your own castle, with an army of hostlers, tapsters, and
+cooks at your beck. You shall still be master here, provided you use
+your influence to procure me a dinner."</p>
+
+<p>His acquiescence in a pacific system was extremely reluctant and
+gradual. He laid aside one sullen tone and wrathful look after the
+other; and, at length, consented not only to supply me with a dinner,
+but to partake of it with me. Nothing was more a topic of surprise to
+himself than his forbearance. He knew not how it was. He had never been
+treated so before. He was not proof against entreaty and submission; but
+I had neither supplicated nor submitted. The stuff that I was made of
+was at once damnably tough and devilishly pliant. When he thought of my
+impudence, in staying in his house after he had bade me leave it, he was
+tempted to resume his passion. When he reflected on my courage, in
+making light of his anger, notwithstanding his known impetuosity and my
+personal inferiority, he could not withhold his esteem. But my patience
+under his rebukes, my unalterable equanimity, and my ready consent to
+the validity of his claims, soothed and propitiated him.</p>
+
+<p>An exemption from blows and abuse was all that I could gain from this
+man. I told him the truth, with regard to my own history, so far as it
+was connected with the Hadwins. I exhibited, in affecting colours, the
+helpless condition of Eliza; but could extort from him nothing but his
+consent that, if she chose, she might come and live with him. He would
+give her victuals and clothes for so much house-work as she was able to
+do. If she chose to live elsewhere, he promised not to molest her, or
+intermeddle in her concerns. The house and land were his by law, and he
+would have them.</p>
+
+<p>It was not my province to revile or expostulate with him. I stated what
+measures would be adopted by a man who regarded the interest of others
+more than his own; who was anxious for the welfare of an innocent girl,
+connected with him so closely by the ties of kindred, and who was
+destitute of what is called natural friends. If he did not cancel, for
+her sake, his bond and mortgage, he would, at least, afford her a frugal
+maintenance. He would extend to her, in all emergencies, his counsel and
+protection.</p>
+
+<p>All that, he said, was sheer nonsense. He could not sufficiently wonder
+at my folly, in proposing to him to make a free gift of a hundred rich
+acres, to a girl too who scarcely knew her right hand from her left;
+whom the first cunning young rogue like myself would <i>chouse</i> out of the
+whole, and take herself into the bargain. But my folly was even
+surpassed by my impudence, since, as the <i>friend</i> of this girl, I was
+merely petitioning on my own account. I had come to him, whom I never
+saw before, on whom I had no claim, and who, as I well knew, had reason
+to think me a sharper, and modestly said, "Here's a girl who has no
+fortune. I am greatly in want of one. Pray, give her such an estate that
+you have in your possession. If you do, I'll marry her, and take it into
+my own hands." I might be thankful that he did not answer such a
+petition with a horse-whipping. But if he did not give her his estate,
+he might extend to her, forsooth, his counsel and protection. "That I've
+offered to do," continued he. "She may come and live in my house, if she
+will. She may do some of the family work. I'll discharge the chambermaid
+to make room for her. Lizzy, if I remember right, has a pretty face. She
+can't have a better market for it than as chambermaid to an inn. If she
+minds her p's and q's she may make up a handsome sum at the year's end."</p>
+
+<p>I thought it time to break off the conference; and, my dinner being
+finished, took my leave, leaving behind me the character of <i>a queer
+sort of chap</i>. I speeded to the prothonotary's office, which was kept in
+the village, and quickly ascertained the truth of Hadwin's pretensions.
+There existed a mortgage, with bond and warrant of attorney, to so great
+an amount as would swallow up every thing at Malverton. Furnished with
+these tidings, I prepared, with a drooping heart, to return to Mr.
+Curling's.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h3>
+
+
+<p>This incident necessarily produced a change in my views with regard to
+my friend. Her fortune consisted of a few hundreds of dollars, which,
+frugally administered, might procure decent accommodation in the
+country. When this was consumed, she must find subsistence in tending
+the big wheel or the milk-pail, unless fortune should enable me to place
+her in a more favourable situation. This state was, in some respects,
+but little different from that in which she had spent the former part of
+her life; but, in her father's house, these employments were dignified
+by being, in some degree, voluntary, and relieved by frequent intervals
+of recreation and leisure. Now they were likely to prove irksome and
+servile, in consequence of being performed for hire and imposed by
+necessity. Equality, parental solicitudes, and sisterly endearments,
+would be wanting to lighten the yoke.</p>
+
+<p>These inconveniences, however, were imaginary. This was the school in
+which fortitude and independence were to be learned. Habit, and the
+purity of rural manners, would, likewise, create anew those ties which
+death had dissolved. The affections of parent and sister would be
+supplied by the fonder and more rational attachments of friendship.
+These toils were not detrimental to beauty or health. What was to be
+dreaded from them was their tendency to quench the spirit of liberal
+curiosity; to habituate the person to bodily, rather than intellectual,
+exertions; to supersede and create indifference or aversion to the only
+instruments of rational improvement, the pen and the book.</p>
+
+<p>This evil, however, was at some distance from Eliza. Her present abode
+was quiet and serene. Here she might enjoy domestic pleasures and
+opportunities of mental improvement for the coming twelvemonth at least.
+This period would, perhaps, be sufficient for the formation of studious
+habits. What schemes should be adopted for this end would be determined
+by the destiny to which I myself should be reserved.</p>
+
+<p>My path was already chalked out, and my fancy now pursued it with
+uncommon pleasure. To reside in your family; to study your profession;
+to pursue some subordinate or casual mode of industry, by which I might
+purchase leisure for medical pursuits, for social recreations, and for
+the study of mankind on your busy and thronged stage, was the scope of
+my wishes. This destiny would not hinder punctual correspondence and
+occasional visits to Eliza. Her pen might be called into action, and her
+mind be awakened by books, and every hour be made to add to her stores
+of knowledge and enlarge the bounds of her capacity.</p>
+
+<p>I was spiritless and gloomy when I left &mdash;&mdash;; but reflections on my
+future lot, and just views of the situation of my friend, insensibly
+restored my cheerfulness. I arrived at Mr. Curling's in the evening, and
+hastened to impart to Eliza the issue of my commission. It gave her
+uneasiness, merely as it frustrated the design, on which she had fondly
+mused, of residing in the city. She was somewhat consoled by my promises
+of being her constant correspondent and occasional visitor.</p>
+
+<p>Next morning I set out on my journey hither, on foot. The way was not
+long; the weather, though cold, was wholesome and serene. My spirits
+were high, and I saw nothing in the world before me but sunshine and
+prosperity. I was conscious that my happiness depended not on the
+revolutions of nature or the caprice of man. All without was, indeed,
+vicissitude and uncertainty; but within my bosom was a centre not to be
+shaken or removed. My purposes were honest and steadfast. Every sense
+was the inlet of pleasure, because it was the avenue of knowledge; and
+my soul brooded over the world to ideas, and glowed with exultation at
+the grandeur and beauty of its own creations.</p>
+
+<p>This felicity was too rapturous to be of long duration. I gradually
+descended from these heights; and the remembrance of past incidents,
+connected with the images of your family, to which I was returning, led
+my thoughts into a different channel. Welbeck and the unhappy girl whom
+he had betrayed; Mrs. Villars and Wallace, were recollected anew. The
+views which I had formed, for determining the fate and affording
+assistance to Clemenza, were recalled. My former resolutions with regard
+to her had been suspended by the uncertainty in which the fate of the
+Hadwins was, at that time, wrapped. Had it not become necessary wholly
+to lay aside these resolutions?</p>
+
+<p>That, indeed, was an irksome conclusion. No wonder that I struggled to
+repel it; that I fostered the doubt whether money was the only
+instrument of benefit; whether caution, and fortitude, and knowledge,
+were not the genuine preservatives from evil. Had I not the means in my
+hands of dispelling her fatal ignorance of Welbeck and of those with
+whom she resided? Was I not authorized, by my previous though slender
+intercourse, to seek her presence?</p>
+
+<p>Suppose I should enter Mrs. Villars's house, desire to be introduced to
+the lady, accost her with affectionate simplicity, and tell her the
+truth? Why be anxious to smooth the way? why deal in apologies,
+circuities, and innuendoes? All these are feeble and perverse
+refinements, unworthy of an honest purpose and an erect spirit. To
+believe her inaccessible to my visit was absurd. To wait for the
+permission of those whose interest it might be to shut out visitants was
+cowardice. This was an infringement of her liberty which equity and law
+equally condemned. By what right could she be restrained from
+intercourse with others? Doors and passages may be between her and me.
+With a purpose such as mine, no one had a right to close the one or
+obstruct the other. Away with cowardly reluctances and clownish
+scruples, and let me hasten this moment to her dwelling.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Villars is the portress of the mansion. She will probably present
+herself before me, and demand the reason of my visit. What shall I say
+to her? The truth. To falter, or equivocate, or dissemble to this woman
+would be wicked. Perhaps her character has been misunderstood and
+maligned. Can I render her a greater service than to apprize her of the
+aspersions that have rested on it, and afford her the opportunity of
+vindication? Perhaps she is indeed selfish and profligate; the betrayer
+of youth and the agent of lasciviousness. Does she not deserve to know
+the extent of her errors and the ignominy of her trade? Does she not
+merit the compassion of the good and the rebukes of the wise? To shrink
+from the task would prove me cowardly and unfirm. Thus far, at least,
+let my courage extend.</p>
+
+<p>Alas! Clemenza is unacquainted with my language. My thoughts cannot make
+themselves apparent but by words, and to my words she will be able to
+affix no meaning. Yet is not that a hasty decision? The version from the
+dramas of Zeno which I found in her toilet was probably hers, and proves
+her to have a speculative knowledge of our tongue. Near half a year has
+since elapsed, during which she has dwelt with talkers of English, and
+consequently could not fail to have acquired it. This conclusion is
+somewhat dubious, but experiment will give it certainty.</p>
+
+<p>Hitherto I had strolled along the path at a lingering pace. Time enough,
+methought, to reach your threshold between sunrise and moonlight, if my
+way had been three times longer than it was. You were the pleasing
+phantom that hovered before me and beckoned me forward. What a total
+revolution had occurred in the course of a few seconds! for thus long
+did my reasonings with regard to Clemenza and the Villars require to
+pass through my understanding, and escape, in half-muttered soliloquy,
+from my lips. My muscles trembled with eagerness, and I bounded forward
+with impetuosity. I saw nothing but a vista of catalpas, leafless,
+loaded with icicles, and terminating in four chimneys and a painted
+roof. My fancy outstripped my footsteps, and was busy in picturing faces
+and rehearsing dialogues. Presently I reached this new object of my
+pursuit, darted through the avenue, noticed that some windows of the
+house were unclosed, drew thence a hasty inference that the house was
+not without inhabitants, and knocked, quickly and loudly, for admission.</p>
+
+<p>Some one within crept to the door, opened it with seeming caution, and
+just far enough to allow the face to be seen. It was the timid, pale,
+and unwashed face of a girl who was readily supposed to be a servant,
+taken from a cottage, and turned into a bringer of wood and water and a
+scourer of tubs and trenches. She waited in timorous silence the
+delivery of my message. Was Mrs. Villars at home?</p>
+
+<p>"No; she has gone to town."</p>
+
+<p>Were any of her daughters within?</p>
+
+<p>She could not tell; she believed&mdash;she thought&mdash;which did I want? Miss
+Hetty or Miss Sally?</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see Miss Hetty." Saying this, I pushed gently against the door.
+The girl, half reluctant, yielded way; I entered the passage, and,
+putting my hand on the lock of a door that seemed to lead into a
+parlour,&mdash;"Is Miss Hetty in this room?"</p>
+
+<p>No; there was nobody there.</p>
+
+<p>"Go call her, then. Tell her there is one who wishes to see her on
+important business. I will wait for her coming in this room." So saying,
+I opened the door, and entered the apartment, while the girl withdrew to
+perform my message.</p>
+
+<p>The parlour was spacious and expensively furnished, but an air of
+negligence and disorder was everywhere visible. The carpet was wrinkled
+and unswept; a clock on the table, in a glass frame, so streaked and
+spotted with dust as scarcely to be transparent, and the index
+motionless, and pointing at four instead of nine; embers scattered on
+the marble hearth, and tongs lying on the fender with the handle in the
+ashes; a harpsichord, uncovered, one end loaded with <i>scores</i>, tumbled
+together in a heap, and the other with volumes of novels and plays, some
+on their edges, some on their backs, gaping open by the scorching of
+their covers; rent; blurred; stained; blotted; dog-eared; tables awry;
+chairs crowding each other; in short, no object but indicated the
+neglect or the ignorance of domestic neatness and economy.</p>
+
+<p>My leisure was employed in surveying these objects, and in listening
+for the approach of Miss Hetty. Some minutes elapsed, and no one came. A
+reason for delay was easily imagined, and I summoned patience to wait. I
+opened a book; touched the instrument; surveyed the vases on the
+mantel-tree; the figures on the hangings, and the print of Apollo and
+the Sibyl, taken from Salvator, and hung over the chimney. I eyed my own
+shape and garb in the mirror, and asked how my rustic appearance would
+be regarded by that supercilious and voluptuous being to whom I was
+about to present myself.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the latch of the door was softly moved: it opened, and the
+simpleton, before described, appeared. She spoke, but her voice was so
+full of hesitation, and so near a whisper, that much attention was
+needed to make out her words:&mdash;Miss Hetty was not at home; she was gone
+to town with her <i>mistress</i>.</p>
+
+<p>This was a tale not to be credited. How was I to act? She persisted in
+maintaining the truth of it.&mdash;"Well, then," said I, at length, "tell
+Miss Sally that I wish to speak with her. She will answer my purpose
+just as well."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Sally was not at home neither. She had gone to town too. They would
+not be back, she did not know when; not till night, she supposed. It was
+so indeed; none of them wasn't at home; none but she and Nanny in the
+kitchen: indeed there wasn't.</p>
+
+<p>"Go tell Nanny to come here; I will leave my message with her." She
+withdrew, but Nanny did not receive the summons, or thought proper not
+to obey it. All was vacant and still.</p>
+
+<p>My state was singular and critical. It was absurd to prolong it; but to
+leave the house with my errand unexecuted would argue imbecility and
+folly. To ascertain Clemenza's presence in this house, and to gain an
+interview, were yet in my power. Had I not boasted of my intrepidity in
+braving denials and commands when they endeavoured to obstruct my
+passage to this woman? But here were no obstacles nor prohibition.
+Suppose the girl had said truth, that the matron and her daughters were
+absent, and that Nanny and herself were the only guardians of the
+mansion. So much the better. My design will not be opposed. I have only
+to mount the stair, and go from one room to another till I find what I
+seek.</p>
+
+<p>There was hazard, as well as plausibility, in this scheme. I thought it
+best once more to endeavour to extort information from the girl, and
+persuade her to be my guide to whomsoever the house contained. I put my
+hand to the bell and rung a brisk peal. No one came. I passed into the
+entry, to the foot of a staircase, and to a back-window. Nobody was
+within hearing or sight.</p>
+
+<p>Once more I reflected on the rectitude of my intentions, on the
+possibility that the girl's assertions might be true, on the benefits of
+expedition, and of gaining access to the object of my visit without
+interruption or delay. To these considerations was added a sort of
+charm, not easily explained, and by no means justifiable, produced by
+the very temerity and hazardness accompanying this attempt. I thought,
+with scornful emotions, on the bars and hinderances which pride, and
+caprice, and delusive maxims of decorum, raise in the way of human
+intercourse. I spurned at these semblances and substitutes of honesty,
+and delighted to shake such fetters into air and trample such
+impediments to dust. I wanted to see a human being, in order to promote
+her happiness. It was doubtful whether she was within twenty paces of
+the spot where I stood. The doubt was to be solved. How? By examining
+the space. I forthwith proceeded to examine it. I reached the second
+story. I approached a door that was closed. I knocked. After a pause, a
+soft voice said, "Who is there?"</p>
+
+<p>The accents were as musical as those of Clemenza, but were in other
+respects different. I had no topic to discuss with this person. I
+answered not, yet hesitated to withdraw. Presently the same voice was
+again heard:&mdash;"What is it you want? Why don't you answer? Come in!" I
+complied with the command, and entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>It was deliberation and foresight that led me hither, and not chance or
+caprice. Hence, instead of being disconcerted or vanquished by the
+objects that I saw, I was tranquil and firm. My curiosity, however, made
+me a vigilant observer. Two females, arrayed with voluptuous negligence,
+in a manner adapted to the utmost seclusion, and seated in a careless
+attitude on a sofa, were now discovered.</p>
+
+<p>Both darted glances at the door. One, who appeared to be the youngest,
+no sooner saw me, than she shrieked, and, starting from her seat,
+betrayed in the looks which she successively cast upon me, on herself,
+and on the chamber, whose apparatus was in no less confusion than that
+of the apartment below, her consciousness of the unseasonableness of
+this meeting.</p>
+
+<p>The other shrieked likewise, but in her it seemed to be the token of
+surprise rather than that of terror. There was, probably, somewhat in my
+aspect and garb that suggested an apology for this intrusion, as arising
+from simplicity and mistake. She thought proper, however, to assume the
+air of one offended, and, looking sternly,&mdash;"How now, fellow," said she,
+"what is this? Why come you hither?"</p>
+
+<p>This questioner was of mature age, but had not passed the period of
+attractiveness and grace. All the beauty that nature had bestowed was
+still retained, but the portion had never been great. What she possessed
+was so modelled and embellished by such a carriage and dress as to give
+it most power over the senses of the gazer. In proportion, however, as
+it was intended and adapted to captivate those who know none but
+physical pleasures, it was qualified to breed distaste and aversion in
+me.</p>
+
+<p>I am sensible how much error may have lurked in this decision. I had
+brought with me the belief of their being unchaste; and seized, perhaps
+with too much avidity, any appearance that coincided with my
+prepossessions. Yet the younger by no means inspired the same disgust;
+though I had no reason to suppose her more unblemished than the elder.
+Her modesty seemed unaffected, and was by no means satisfied, like that
+of the elder, with defeating future curiosity. The consciousness of what
+had already been exposed filled her with confusion, and she would have
+flown away, if her companion had not detained her by some degree of
+force. "What ails the girl? There's nothing to be frightened at.
+Fellow!" she repeated, "what brings you here?"</p>
+
+<p>I advanced and stood before them. I looked steadfastly, but, I believe,
+with neither effrontery nor anger, on the one who addressed me. I spoke
+in a tone serious and emphatical. "I come for the sake of speaking to a
+woman who formerly resided in this house, and probably resides here
+still. Her name is Clemenza Lodi. If she be here, I request you to
+conduct me to her instantly."</p>
+
+<p>Methought I perceived some inquietude, a less imperious and more
+inquisitive air, in this woman, on hearing the name of Clemenza. It was
+momentary, and gave way to peremptory looks. "What is your business with
+her? And why did you adopt this mode of inquiry? A very extraordinary
+intrusion! Be good enough to leave the chamber. Any questions proper to
+be answered will be answered below."</p>
+
+<p>"I meant not to intrude or offend. It was not an idle or impertinent
+motive that led me hither. I waited below for some time after soliciting
+an audience of you through the servant. She assured me you were absent,
+and laid me under the necessity of searching for Clemenza Lodi myself,
+and without a guide. I am anxious to withdraw, and request merely to be
+directed to the room which she occupies."</p>
+
+<p>"I direct you," replied she, in a more resolute tone, "to quit the room
+and the house."</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible, madam," I replied, still looking at her earnestly; "leave
+the house without seeing her! You might as well enjoin me to pull the
+Andes on my head!&mdash;to walk barefoot to Pekin! Impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>Some solicitude was now mingled with her anger. "This is strange
+insolence! unaccountable behaviour!&mdash;begone from my room! will you
+compel me to call the gentlemen?"</p>
+
+<p>"Be not alarmed," said I, with augmented mildness. There was, indeed,
+compassion and sorrow at my heart, and these must have somewhat
+influenced my looks. "Be not alarmed. I came to confer a benefit, not to
+perpetrate an injury. I came not to censure or expostulate with you,
+but merely to counsel and aid a being that needs both; all I want is to
+see her. In this chamber I sought not you, but her. Only lead me to her,
+or tell me where she is. I will then rid you of my presence."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you compel me to call those who will punish this insolence as it
+deserves?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest madam! I compel you to nothing. I merely supplicate. I would
+ask you to lead me to these gentlemen, if I did not know that there are
+none but females in the house. It is you who must receive and comply
+with my petition. Allow me a moment's interview with Clemenza Lodi.
+Compliance will harm you not, but will benefit her. What is your
+objection?"</p>
+
+<p>"This is the strangest proceeding! the most singular conduct! Is this a
+place fit to parley with you? I warn you of the consequence of staying a
+moment longer. Depend upon it, you will sorely repent it."</p>
+
+<p>"You are obdurate," said I, and turned towards the younger, who listened
+to this discourse in tremors and panic. I took her hand with an air of
+humility and reverence. "Here," said I, "there seems to be purity,
+innocence, and condescension. I took this house to be the temple of
+voluptuousness. Females I expected to find in it, but such only as
+traded in licentious pleasures; specious, perhaps not destitute of
+talents, beauty, and address, but dissolute and wanton, sensual and
+avaricious; yet in this countenance and carriage there are tokens of
+virtue. I am born to be deceived, and the semblance of modesty is
+readily assumed. Under this veil, perhaps, lurk a tainted heart and
+depraved appetites. Is it so?"</p>
+
+<p>She made me no answer, but somewhat in her looks seemed to evince that
+my favourable prepossessions were just. I noticed likewise that the
+alarm of the elder was greatly increased by this address to her
+companion. The thought suddenly occurred that this girl might be in
+circumstances not unlike those of Clemenza Lodi; that she was not
+apprized of the character of her associates, and might by this meeting
+be rescued from similar evils.</p>
+
+<p>This suspicion filled me with tumultuous feelings. Clemenza was for a
+time forgotten. I paid no attention to the looks or demeanour of the
+elder, but was wholly occupied in gazing on the younger. My anxiety to
+know the truth gave pathos and energy to my tones while I spoke:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Who, where, what are you? Do you reside in this house? Are you a sister
+or daughter in this family, or merely a visitant? Do you know the
+character, profession, and views of your companions? Do you deem them
+virtuous, or know them to be profligate? Speak! tell me, I beseech you!"</p>
+
+<p>The maiden confusion which had just appeared in the countenance of this
+person now somewhat abated. She lifted her eyes, and glanced by turns at
+me and at her who sat by her side. An air of serious astonishment
+overspread her features, and she seemed anxious for me to proceed. The
+elder, meanwhile, betrayed the utmost alarm, again upbraided my
+audacity, commanded me to withdraw, and admonished me of the danger I
+incurred by lingering.</p>
+
+<p>I noticed not her interference, but again entreated to know of the
+younger her true state. She had no time to answer me, supposing her not
+to want the inclination, for every pause was filled by the clamorous
+importunities and menaces of the other. I began to perceive that my
+attempts were useless to this end, but the chief and most estimable
+purpose was attainable. It was in my power to state the knowledge I
+possessed, through your means, of Mrs. Villars and her daughters. This
+information might be superfluous, since she to whom it was given might
+be one of this licentious family. The contrary, however, was not
+improbable, and my tidings, therefore, might be of the utmost moment to
+her safety.</p>
+
+<p>A resolute and even impetuous manner reduced my incessant interrupter to
+silence. What I had to say, I compressed in a few words, and adhered to
+perspicuity and candour with the utmost care. I still held the hand that
+I had taken, and fixed my eyes upon her countenance with a steadfastness
+that hindered her from lifting her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I know you not; whether you be dissolute or chaste, I cannot tell. In
+either case, however, what I am going to say will be useful. Let me
+faithfully repeat what I have heard. It is mere rumour, and I vouch not
+for its truth. Rumour as it is, I submit it to your judgment, and hope
+that it may guide you into paths of innocence and honour.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Villars and her three daughters are Englishwomen, who supported
+for a time an unblemished reputation, but who, at length, were suspected
+of carrying on the trade of prostitution. This secret could not be
+concealed forever. The profligates who frequented their house betrayed
+them. One of them, who died under their roof, after they had withdrawn
+from it into the country, disclosed to his kinsman, who attended his
+death-bed, their genuine character.</p>
+
+<p>"The dying man likewise related incidents in which I am deeply
+concerned. I have been connected with one by name Welbeck. In his house
+I met an unfortunate girl, who was afterwards removed to Mrs. Villars's.
+Her name was Clemenza Lodi. Residence in this house, under the control
+of a woman like Mrs. Villars and her daughters, must be injurious to her
+innocence, and from this control I now come to rescue her."</p>
+
+<p>I turned to the elder, and continued,&mdash;"By all that is sacred, I adjure
+you to tell me whether Clemenza Lodi be under this roof! If she be not,
+whither has she gone? To know this I came hither, and any difficulty or
+reluctance in answering will be useless; till an answer be obtained, I
+will not go hence."</p>
+
+<p>During this speech, anger had been kindling in the bosom of this woman.
+It now burst upon me in a torrent of opprobrious epithets. I was a
+villain, a calumniator, a thief. I had lurked about the house, till
+those whose sex and strength enabled them to cope with me had gone. I
+had entered these doors by fraud. I was a wretch, guilty of the last
+excesses of insolence and insult.</p>
+
+<p>To repel these reproaches, or endure them, was equally useless. The
+satisfaction that I sought was only to be gained by searching the house.
+I left the room without speaking. Did I act illegally in passing from
+one story and one room to another? Did I really deserve the imputations
+of rashness and insolence? My behaviour, I well know, was ambiguous and
+hazardous, and perhaps wanting in discretion, but my motives were
+unquestionably pure. I aimed at nothing but the rescue of a human
+creature from distress and dishonour.</p>
+
+<p>I pretend not to the wisdom of experience and age; to the praise of
+forethought or subtlety. I choose the obvious path, and pursue it with
+headlong expedition. Good intentions, unaided by knowledge, will,
+perhaps, produce more injury than benefit, and therefore knowledge must
+be gained, but the acquisition is not momentary; is not bestowed unasked
+and untoiled for. Meanwhile, we must not be inactive because we are
+ignorant. Our good purposes must hurry to performance, whether our
+knowledge be greater or less.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXV.</h3>
+
+
+<p>To explore the house in this manner was so contrary to ordinary rules,
+that the design was probably wholly unsuspected by the women whom I had
+just left. My silence, at parting, might have been ascribed by them to
+the intimidating influence of invectives and threats. Hence I proceeded
+in my search without interruption.</p>
+
+<p>Presently I reached a front chamber in the third story. The door was
+ajar. I entered it on tiptoe. Sitting on a low chair by the fire, I
+beheld a female figure, dressed in a negligent but not indecent manner.
+Her face, in the posture in which she sat, was only half seen. Its hues
+were sickly and pale, and in mournful unison with a feeble and emaciated
+form. Her eyes were fixed upon a babe that lay stretched upon a pillow
+at her feet. The child, like its mother, for such she was readily
+imagined to be, was meagre and cadaverous. Either it was dead, or could
+not be very distant from death.</p>
+
+<p>The features of Clemenza were easily recognised, though no contrast
+could be greater, in habit and shape and complexion, than that which her
+present bore to her former appearance. All her roses had faded, and her
+brilliancies vanished. Still, however, there was somewhat fitted to
+awaken the tenderest emotions. There were tokens of inconsolable
+distress.</p>
+
+<p>Her attention was wholly absorbed by the child. She lifted not her eyes
+till I came close to her and stood before her. When she discovered me, a
+faint start was perceived. She looked at me for a moment, then, putting
+one spread hand before her eyes, she stretched out the other towards the
+door, and waving it in silence, as if to admonish me to depart.</p>
+
+<p>This motion, however emphatical, I could not obey. I wished to obtain
+her attention, but knew not in what words to claim it. I was silent. In
+a moment she removed her hand from her eyes, and looked at me with new
+eagerness. Her features bespoke emotions which, perhaps, flowed from my
+likeness to her brother, joined with the memory of my connection with
+Welbeck.</p>
+
+<p>My situation was full of embarrassment. I was by no means certain that
+my language would be understood. I knew not in what light the policy and
+dissimulation of Welbeck might have taught her to regard me. What
+proposal, conducive to her comfort and her safety, could I make to her?</p>
+
+<p>Once more she covered her eyes, and exclaimed, in a feeble voice, "Go
+away! begone!"</p>
+
+<p>As if satisfied with this effort, she resumed her attention to her
+child. She stooped and lifted it in her arms, gazing, meanwhile, on its
+almost lifeless features with intense anxiety. She crushed it to her
+bosom, and, again looking at me, repeated, "Go away! go away! begone!"</p>
+
+<p>There was somewhat in the lines of her face, in her tones and gestures,
+that pierced to my heart. Added to this, was my knowledge of her
+condition; her friendlessness; her poverty; the pangs of unrequited
+love; and her expiring infant. I felt my utterance choked, and my tears
+struggling for passage. I turned to the window, and endeavoured to
+regain my tranquillity.</p>
+
+<p>"What was it," said I, "that brought me hither? The perfidy of Welbeck
+must surely have long since been discovered. What can I tell her of the
+Villars which she does not already know, or of which the knowledge will
+be useful? If their treatment has been just, why should I detract from
+their merit? If it has been otherwise, their own conduct will have
+disclosed their genuine character. Though voluptuous themselves, it does
+not follow that they have laboured to debase this creature. Though
+wanton, they may not be inhuman.</p>
+
+<p>"I can propose no change in her condition for the better. Should she be
+willing to leave this house, whither is it in my power to conduct her?
+Oh that I were rich enough to provide food for the hungry, shelter for
+the houseless, and raiment for the naked!"</p>
+
+<p>I was roused from these fruitless reflections by the lady, whom some
+sudden thought induced to place the child in its bed, and, rising, to
+come towards me. The utter dejection which her features lately betrayed
+was now changed for an air of anxious curiosity. "Where," said she, in
+her broken English,&mdash;"where is Signor Welbeck?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alas!" returned I, "I know not. That question might, I thought, with
+more propriety be put to you than me."</p>
+
+<p>"I know where he be; I fear where he be."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, the deepest sighs burst from her heart. She turned from me,
+and, going to the child, took it again into her lap. Its pale and sunken
+cheek was quickly wet with the mother's tears, which, as she silently
+hung over it, dropped fast from her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>This demeanour could not but awaken curiosity, while it gave a new turn
+to my thoughts. I began to suspect that in the tokens which I saw there
+was not only distress for her child, but concern for the fate of
+Welbeck. "Know you," said I, "where Mr. Welbeck is? Is he alive? Is he
+near? Is he in calamity?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know if he be alive. He be sick. He be in prison. They will
+not let me go to him. And"&mdash;here her attention and mine was attracted by
+the infant, whose frame, till now motionless, began to be tremulous. Its
+features sunk into a more ghastly expression. Its breathings were
+difficult, and every effort to respire produced a convulsion harder than
+the last.</p>
+
+<p>The mother easily interpreted these tokens. The same mortal struggle
+seemed to take place in her features as in those of her child. At length
+her agony found way in a piercing shriek. The struggle in the infant was
+past. Hope looked in vain for a new motion in its heart or its eyelids.
+The lips were closed, and its breath was gone forever!</p>
+
+<p>The grief which overwhelmed the unhappy parent was of that outrageous
+and desperate kind which is wholly incompatible with thinking. A few
+incoherent motions and screams, that rent the soul, were followed by a
+deep swoon. She sunk upon the floor, pale and lifeless as her babe.</p>
+
+<p>I need not describe the pangs which such a scene was adapted to produce
+in me. These were rendered more acute by the helpless and ambiguous
+situation in which I was placed. I was eager to bestow consolation and
+succour, but was destitute of all means. I was plunged into
+uncertainties and doubts. I gazed alternately at the infant and its
+mother. I sighed. I wept. I even sobbed. I stooped down and took the
+lifeless hand of the sufferer. I bathed it with my tears, and exclaimed,
+"Ill-fated woman! unhappy mother! what shall I do for thy relief? How
+shall I blunt the edge of this calamity, and rescue thee from new
+evils?"</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the door of the apartment was opened, and the younger of
+the women whom I had seen below entered. Her looks betrayed the deepest
+consternation and anxiety. Her eyes in a moment were fixed by the
+decayed form and the sad features of Clemenza. She shuddered at this
+spectacle, but was silent. She stood in the midst of the floor,
+fluctuating and bewildered. I dropped the hand that I was holding, and
+approached her.</p>
+
+<p>"You have come," said I, "in good season. I know you not, but will
+believe you to be good. You have a heart, it may be, not free from
+corruption, but it is still capable of pity for the miseries of others.
+You have a hand that refuses not its aid to the unhappy. See; there is
+an infant dead. There is a mother whom grief has, for a time, deprived
+of life. She has been oppressed and betrayed; been robbed of property
+and reputation&mdash;but not of innocence. She is worthy of relief. Have you
+arms to receive her? Have you sympathy, protection, and a home to bestow
+upon a forlorn, betrayed, and unhappy stranger? I know not what this
+house is; I suspect it to be no better than a brothel. I know not what
+treatment this woman has received. When her situation and wants are
+ascertained, will you supply her wants? Will you rescue her from evils
+that may attend her continuance here?"</p>
+
+<p>She was disconcerted and bewildered by this address. At length she
+said, "All that has happened, all that I have heard and seen, is so
+unexpected, so strange, that I am amazed and distracted. Your behaviour
+I cannot comprehend, nor your motive for making this address to me. I
+cannot answer you, except in one respect. If this woman has suffered
+injury, I have had no part in it. I knew not of her existence nor her
+situation till this moment; and whatever protection or assistance she
+may justly claim, I am both able and willing to bestow. I do not live
+here, but in the city. I am only an occasional visitant in this house."</p>
+
+<p>"What, then!" I exclaimed, with sparkling eyes and a rapturous accent,
+"you are not profligate; are a stranger to the manners of this house,
+and a detester of these manners? Be not a deceiver, I entreat you. I
+depend only on your looks and professions, and these may be dissembled."</p>
+
+<p>These questions, which indeed argued a childish simplicity, excited her
+surprise. She looked at me, uncertain whether I was in earnest or in
+jest. At length she said, "Your language is so singular, that I am at a
+loss how to answer it. I shall take no pains to find out its meaning,
+but leave you to form conjectures at leisure. Who is this woman, and how
+can I serve her?" After a pause, she continued:&mdash;"I cannot afford her
+any immediate assistance, and shall not stay a moment longer in this
+house. There" (putting a card in my hand) "is my name and place of
+abode. If you shall have any proposals to make, respecting this woman, I
+shall be ready to receive them in my own house." So saying, she
+withdrew.</p>
+
+<p>I looked wistfully after her, but could not but assent to her assertion,
+that her presence here would be more injurious to her than beneficial to
+Clemenza. She had scarcely gone, when the elder woman entered. There was
+rage, sullenness, and disappointment in her aspect. These, however, were
+suspended by the situation in which she discovered the mother and child.
+It was plain that all the sentiments of woman were not extinguished in
+her heart. She summoned the servants and seemed preparing to take such
+measures as the occasion prescribed. I now saw the folly of supposing
+that these measures would be neglected, and that my presence could not
+essentially contribute to the benefit of the sufferer. Still, however, I
+lingered in the room, till the infant was covered with a cloth, and the
+still senseless parent was conveyed into an adjoining chamber. The woman
+then, as if she had not seen me before, fixed scowling eyes upon me, and
+exclaimed, "Thief! villain! why do you stay here?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean to go," said I, "but not till I express my gratitude and
+pleasure at the sight of your attention to this sufferer. You deem me
+insolent and perverse, but I am not such; and hope that the day will
+come when I shall convince you of my good intentions."</p>
+
+<p>"Begone!" interrupted she, in a more angry tone. "Begone this moment, or
+I will treat you as a thief." She now drew forth her hand from under her
+gown, and showed a pistol. "You shall see," she continued, "that I will
+not be insulted with impunity. If you do not vanish, I will shoot you as
+a robber."</p>
+
+<p>This woman was far from wanting a force and intrepidity worthy of a
+different sex. Her gestures and tones were full of energy. They denoted
+a haughty and indignant spirit. It was plain that she conceived herself
+deeply injured by my conduct; and was it absolutely certain that her
+anger was without reason? I had loaded her house with atrocious
+imputations, and these imputations might be false. I had conceived them
+upon such evidence as chance had provided; but this evidence, intricate
+and dubious as human actions and motives are, might be void of truth.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," said I, in a sedate tone, "I have injured you; I have
+mistaken your character. You shall not find me less ready to repair,
+than to perpetrate, this injury. My error was without malice, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>I had not time to finish the sentence, when this rash and enraged woman
+thrust the pistol close to my head and fired it. I was wholly unaware
+that her fury would lead her to this excess. It was a sort of mechanical
+impulse that made me raise my hand and attempt to turn aside the
+weapon. I did this deliberately and tranquilly, and without conceiving
+that any thing more was intended by her movement than to intimidate me.
+To this precaution, however, I was indebted for life. The bullet was
+diverted from my forehead to my left ear, and made a slight wound upon
+the surface, from which the blood gushed in a stream.</p>
+
+<p>The loudness of this explosion, and the shock which the ball produced in
+my brain, sunk me into a momentary stupor. I reeled backward, and should
+have fallen, had not I supported myself against the wall. The sight of
+my blood instantly restored her reason. Her rage disappeared, and was
+succeeded by terror and remorse. She clasped her hands, and exclaimed,
+"Oh! what! what have I done? My frantic passion has destroyed me."</p>
+
+<p>I needed no long time to show me the full extent of the injury which I
+had suffered and the conduct which it became me to adopt. For a moment I
+was bewildered and alarmed, but presently perceived that this was an
+incident more productive of good than of evil. It would teach me caution
+in contending with the passions of another, and showed me that there is
+a limit which the impetuosities of anger will sometimes overstep.
+Instead of reviling my companion, I addressed myself to her thus:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Be not frighted. You have done me no injury, and, I hope, will derive
+instruction from this event. Your rashness had like to have sacrificed
+the life of one who is your friend, and to have exposed yourself to
+infamy and death, or, at least, to the pangs of eternal remorse. Learn
+from hence to curb your passions, and especially to keep at a distance
+from every murderous weapon, on occasions when rage is likely to take
+place of reason.</p>
+
+<p>"I repeat that my motives in entering this house were connected with
+your happiness as well as that of Clemenza Lodi. If I have erred in
+supposing you the member of a vile and pernicious trade, that error was
+worthy of being rectified, but violence and invective tend only to
+confirm it. I am incapable of any purpose that is not beneficent; but,
+in the means that I use and in the evidence on which I proceed, I am
+liable to a thousand mistakes. Point out to me the road by which I can
+do you good, and I will cheerfully pursue it."</p>
+
+<p>Finding that her fears had been groundless as to the consequences of her
+rashness, she renewed, though with less vehemence than before, her
+imprecations on my intermeddling and audacious folly. I listened till
+the storm was nearly exhausted, and then, declaring my intention to
+revisit the house if the interest of Clemenza should require it, I
+resumed my way to the city.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Why," said I, as I hasted forward, "is my fortune so abundant in
+unforeseen occurrences? Is every man who leaves his cottage and the
+impressions of his infancy behind him ushered into such a world of
+revolutions and perils as have trammelled my steps? or is my scene
+indebted for variety and change to my propensity to look into other
+people's concerns, and to make their sorrows and their joys mine?</p>
+
+<p>"To indulge an adventurous spirit, I left the precincts of the
+barn-door, enlisted in the service of a stranger, and encountered a
+thousand dangers to my virtue under the disastrous influence of Welbeck.
+Afterwards my life was set at hazard in the cause of Wallace, and now am
+I loaded with the province of protecting the helpless Eliza Hadwin and
+the unfortunate Clemenza. My wishes are fervent, and my powers shall not
+be inactive in their defence; but how slender are these powers!</p>
+
+<p>"In the offers of the unknown lady there is, indeed, some consolation
+for Clemenza. It must be my business to lay before my friend Stevens the
+particulars of what has befallen me, and to entreat his directions how
+this disconsolate girl may be most effectually succoured. It may be wise
+to take her from her present abode, and place her under some chaste and
+humane guardianship, where she may gradually lose remembrance of her
+dead infant and her specious betrayer. The barrier that severs her from
+Welbeck must be high as heaven and insuperable as necessity.</p>
+
+<p>"But, soft! Talked she not of Welbeck? Said she not that he was in
+prison and was sick? Poor wretch! I thought thy course was at an end;
+that the penalty of guilt no longer weighed down thy heart; that thy
+misdeeds and thy remorses were buried in a common and obscure grave; but
+it seems thou art still alive.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it rational to cherish the hope of thy restoration to innocence and
+peace? Thou art no obdurate criminal; hadst thou less virtue, thy
+compunctions would be less keen. Wert thou deaf to the voice of duty,
+thy wanderings into guilt and folly would be less fertile of anguish.
+The time will perhaps come, when the measure of thy transgressions and
+calamities will overflow, and the folly of thy choice will be too
+conspicuous to escape thy discernment. Surely, even for such
+transgressors as thou, there is a salutary power in the precepts of
+truth and the lessons of experience.</p>
+
+<p>"But thou art imprisoned and art sick. This, perhaps, is the crisis of
+thy destiny. Indigence and dishonour were the evils to shun which thy
+integrity and peace of mind have been lightly forfeited. Thou hast found
+that the price was given in vain; that the hollow and deceitful
+enjoyments of opulence and dignity were not worth the purchase; and
+that, frivolous and unsubstantial as they are, the only path that leads
+to them is that of honesty and diligence. Thou art in prison and art
+sick; and there is none to cheer thy hour with offices of kindness, or
+uphold thy fainting courage by the suggestions of good counsel. For such
+as thou the world has no compassion. Mankind will pursue thee to the
+grave with execrations. Their cruelty will be justified or palliated,
+since they know thee not. They are unacquainted with the goadings of thy
+conscience and the bitter retributions which thou art daily suffering.
+They are full of their own wrongs, and think only of those tokens of
+exultation and complacency which thou wast studious of assuming in thy
+intercourse with them. It is I only that thoroughly know thee and can
+rightly estimate thy claims to compassion.</p>
+
+<p>"I have somewhat partaken of thy kindness, and thou meritest some
+gratitude at my hands. Shall I not visit and endeavour to console thee
+in thy distress? Let me, at least, ascertain thy condition, and be the
+instrument in repairing the wrongs which thou hast inflicted. Let me
+gain, from the contemplation of thy misery, new motives to sincerity and
+rectitude."</p>
+
+<p>While occupied by these reflections, I entered the city. The thoughts
+which engrossed my mind related to Welbeck. It is not my custom to defer
+till to-morrow what can be done to-day. The destiny of man frequently
+hangs upon the lapse of a minute. "I will stop," said I, "at the prison;
+and, since the moment of my arrival may not be indifferent, I will go
+thither with all possible haste." I did not content myself with walking,
+but, regardless of the comments of passengers, hurried along the way at
+full speed.</p>
+
+<p>Having inquired for Welbeck, I was conducted through a dark room,
+crowded with beds, to a staircase. Never before had I been in a prison.
+Never had I smelt so noisome an odour, or surveyed faces so begrimed
+with filth and misery. The walls and floors were alike squalid and
+detestable. It seemed that in this house existence would be bereaved of
+all its attractions; and yet those faces, which could be seen through
+the obscurity that encompassed them, were either void of care or
+distorted with mirth.</p>
+
+<p>"This," said I, as I followed my conductor, "is the residence of
+Welbeck. What contrasts are these to the repose and splendour, pictured
+walls, glossy hangings, gilded sofas, mirrors that occupied from ceiling
+to floor, carpets of Tauris, and the spotless and transcendent
+brilliancy of coverlets and napkins, in thy former dwelling! Here
+brawling and the shuffling of rude feet are eternal. The air is loaded
+with the exhalations of disease and the fumes of debauchery. Thou art
+cooped up in airless space, and, perhaps, compelled to share thy narrow
+cell with some stupid ruffian. Formerly, the breezes were courted by thy
+lofty windows. Aromatic shrubs were scattered on thy hearth. Menials,
+splendid in apparel, showed their faces with diffidence in thy
+apartment, trod lightly on thy marble floor, and suffered not the
+sanctity of silence to be troubled by a whisper. Thy lamp shot its rays
+through the transparency of alabaster, and thy fragrant lymph flowed
+from vases of porcelain. Such were formerly the decorations of thy
+hall, the embellishments of thy existence; but now&mdash;alas!&mdash;--"</p>
+
+<p>We reached a chamber in the second story. My conductor knocked at the
+door. No one answered. Repeated knocks were unheard or unnoticed by the
+person within. At length, lifting a latch, we entered together.</p>
+
+<p>The prisoner lay upon the bed, with his face turned from the door. I
+advanced softly, making a sign to the keeper to withdraw. Welbeck was
+not asleep, but merely buried in reverie. I was unwilling to disturb his
+musing, and stood with my eyes fixed upon his form. He appeared
+unconscious that any one had entered.</p>
+
+<p>At length, uttering a deep sigh, he changed his posture, and perceived
+me in my motionless and gazing attitude. Recollect in what circumstances
+we had last parted. Welbeck had, no doubt, carried away with him from
+that interview a firm belief that I should speedily die. His prognostic,
+however, was fated to be contradicted.</p>
+
+<p>His first emotions were those of surprise. These gave place to
+mortification and rage. After eyeing me for some time, he averted his
+glances, and that effort which is made to dissipate some obstacle to
+breathing showed me that his sensations were of the most excruciating
+kind. He laid his head upon the pillow, and sunk into his former musing.
+He disdained, or was unable, to utter a syllable of welcome or contempt.</p>
+
+<p>In the opportunity that had been afforded me to view his countenance, I
+had observed tokens of a kind very different from those which used to be
+visible. The gloomy and malignant were more conspicuous. Health had
+forsaken his cheeks, and taken along with it those flexible parts which
+formerly enabled him to cover his secret torments and insidious purposes
+beneath a veil of benevolence and cheerfulness. "Alas!" said I, loud
+enough for him to hear me, "here is a monument of ruin. Despair and
+mischievous passions are too deeply rooted in this heart for me to tear
+them away."</p>
+
+<p>These expressions did not escape his notice. He turned once more and
+cast sullen looks upon me. There was somewhat in his eyes that made me
+shudder. They denoted that his reverie was not that of grief, but of
+madness. I continued, in a less steadfast voice than before:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Unhappy Clemenza! I have performed thy message. I have visited him that
+is sick and in prison. Thou hadst cause for anguish and terror, even
+greater cause than thou imaginedst. Would to God that thou wouldst be
+contented with the report which I shall make; that thy misguided
+tenderness would consent to leave him to his destiny, would suffer him
+to die alone; but that is a forbearance which no eloquence that I
+possess will induce thee to practise. Thou must come, and witness for
+thyself."</p>
+
+<p>In speaking thus, I was far from foreseeing the effects which would be
+produced on the mind of Welbeck. I was far from intending to instil into
+him a belief that Clemenza was near at hand, and was preparing to enter
+his apartment; yet no other images but these would, perhaps, have roused
+him from his lethargy, and awakened that attention which I wished to
+awaken. He started up, and gazed fearfully at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"What!" he cried. "What! Is she here? Ye powers, that have scattered
+woes in my path, spare me the sight of her! But from this agony I will
+rescue myself. The moment she appears I will pluck out these eyes and
+dash them at her feet."</p>
+
+<p>So saying, he gazed with augmented eagerness upon the door. His hands
+were lifted to his head, as if ready to execute his frantic purpose. I
+seized his arm and besought him to lay aside his terror, for that
+Clemenza was far distant. She had no intention, and besides was unable,
+to visit him.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I am respited. I breathe again. No; keep her from a prison. Drag
+her to the wheel or to the scaffold; mangle her with stripes; torture
+her with famine; strangle her child before her face, and cast it to the
+hungry dogs that are howling at the gate; but&mdash;keep her from a prison.
+Never let her enter these doors." There he stopped; his eyes being fixed
+on the floor, and his thoughts once more buried in reverie. I
+resumed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"She is occupied with other griefs than those connected with the fate of
+Welbeck. She is not unmindful of you; she knows you to be sick and in
+prison; and I came to do for you whatever office your condition might
+require, and I came at her suggestion. She, alas! has full employment
+for her tears in watering the grave of her child."</p>
+
+<p>He started. "What! dead? Say you that the child is dead?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is dead. I witnessed its death. I saw it expire in the arms of its
+mother; that mother whom I formerly met under your roof blooming and
+gay, but whom calamity has tarnished and withered. I saw her in the
+raiment of poverty, under an accursed roof: desolate; alone; unsolaced
+by the countenance or sympathy of human beings; approached only by those
+who mock at her distress, set snares for her innocence, and push her to
+infamy. I saw her leaning over the face of her dying babe."</p>
+
+<p>Welbeck put his hands to his head, and exclaimed, "Curses on thy lips,
+infernal messenger! Chant elsewhere thy rueful ditty! Vanish! if thou
+wouldst not feel in thy heart fangs red with blood less guilty than
+thine."</p>
+
+<p>Till this moment the uproar in Welbeck's mind appeared to hinder him
+from distinctly recognising his visitant. Now it seemed as if the
+incidents of our last interview suddenly sprung up in his remembrance.</p>
+
+<p>"What! This is the villain that rifled my cabinet, the maker of my
+poverty and of all the evils which it has since engendered! That has led
+me to a prison! Execrable fool! you are the author of the scene that you
+describe, and of horrors without number and name. To whatever crimes I
+have been urged since that interview, and the fit of madness that made
+you destroy my property, they spring from your act; they flowed from
+necessity, which, had you held your hand at that fateful moment, would
+never have existed.</p>
+
+<p>"How dare you thrust yourself upon my privacy? Why am I not alone? Fly!
+and let my miseries want, at least, the aggravation of beholding their
+author. My eyes loathe the sight of thee! My heart would suffocate thee
+with its own bitterness! Begone!"</p>
+
+<p>"I know not," I answered, "why innocence should tremble at the ravings
+of a lunatic; why it should be overwhelmed by unmerited reproaches! Why
+it should not deplore the errors of its foe, labour to correct those
+errors, and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Thank thy fate, youth, that my hands are tied up by my scorn; thank thy
+fate that no weapon is within reach. Much has passed since I saw thee,
+and I am a new man. I am no longer inconstant and cowardly. I have no
+motives but contempt to hinder me from expiating the wrongs which thou
+hast done me in thy blood. I disdain to take thy life. Go; and let thy
+fidelity, at least, to the confidence which I have placed in thee, be
+inviolate. Thou hast done me harm enough, but canst do, if thou wilt,
+still more. Thou canst betray the secrets that are lodged in thy bosom,
+and rob me of the comfort of reflecting that my guilt is known but to
+one among the living."</p>
+
+<p>This suggestion made me pause, and look back upon the past. I had
+confided this man's tale to you. The secrecy on which he so fondly
+leaned was at an end. Had I acted culpably or not?</p>
+
+<p>But why should I ruminate, with anguish and doubt, upon the past? The
+future was within my power, and the road of my duty was too plain to be
+mistaken. I would disclose to Welbeck the truth, and cheerfully
+encounter every consequence. I would summon my friend to my aid, and
+take his counsel in the critical emergency in which I was placed. I
+ought not to rely upon myself alone in my efforts to benefit this being,
+when another was so near whose discernment and benevolence, and
+knowledge of mankind, and power of affording relief, were far superior
+to mine.</p>
+
+<p>Influenced by these thoughts, I left the apartment without speaking;
+and, procuring pen and paper, despatched to you the billet which brought
+about our meeting.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Mervyn's auditors allowed no pause in their attention to this story.
+Having ended, a deep silence took place. The clock which stood upon the
+mantel had sounded twice the customary <i>larum</i>, but had not been heard
+by us. It was now struck a third time. It was <i>one</i>. Our guest appeared
+somewhat startled at this signal, and looked, with a mournful sort of
+earnestness, at the clock. There was an air of inquietude about him
+which I had never observed in an equal degree before.</p>
+
+<p>I was not without much curiosity respecting other incidents than those
+which had just been related by him; but, after so much fatigue as he had
+undergone, I thought it improper to prolong the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"Come," said I, "my friend, let us to bed. This is a drowsy time, and,
+after so much exercise of mind and body, you cannot but need some
+repose. Much has happened in your absence, which is proper to be known
+to you; but our discourse will be best deferred till to-morrow. I will
+come into your chamber by day-dawn, and unfold to you particulars."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," said he, "withdraw not on my account. If I go to my chamber, it
+will not be to sleep, but to meditate, especially after your assurance
+that something of moment has occurred in my absence. My thoughts,
+independently of any cause of sorrow or fear, have received an impulse
+which solitude and darkness will not stop. It is impossible to know too
+much for our safety and integrity, or to know it too soon. What has
+happened?"</p>
+
+<p>I did not hesitate to comply with his request, for it was not difficult
+to conceive that, however tired the limbs might be, the adventures of
+this day would not be easily expelled from the memory at night. I told
+him the substance of the conversation with Mrs. Althorpe. He smiled at
+those parts of the narrative which related to himself; but when his
+father's depravity and poverty were mentioned, he melted into tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor wretch! I, that knew thee in thy better days, might have easily
+divined this consequence. I foresaw thy poverty and degradation in the
+same hour that I left thy roof. My soul drooped at the prospect, but I
+said, It cannot be prevented, and this reflection was an antidote to
+grief; but, now that thy ruin is complete, it seems as if some of it
+were imputable to me, who forsook thee when the succour and counsel of a
+son were most needed. Thou art ignorant and vicious, but thou art my
+father still. I see that the sufferings of a better man than thou art
+would less afflict me than thine. Perhaps it is still in my power to
+restore thy liberty and good name, and yet&mdash;that is a fond wish. Thou
+art past the age when the ignorance and grovelling habits of a human
+being are susceptible of cure." There he stopped, and, after a gloomy
+pause, continued:&mdash;</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>I am not surprised or afflicted at the misconceptions of my neighbours
+with relation to my own character. Men must judge from what they see;
+they must build their conclusions on their knowledge. I never saw in the
+rebukes of my neighbours any thing but laudable abhorrence of vice. They
+were too eager to blame, to collect materials of censure rather than of
+praise. It was not me whom they hated and despised. It was the phantom
+that passed under my name, which existed only in their imagination, and
+which was worthy of all their scorn and all their enmity.</p>
+
+<p>What I appeared to be in their eyes was as much the object of my own
+disapprobation as of theirs. Their reproaches only evinced the rectitude
+of their decisions, as well as of my own. I drew from them new motives
+to complacency. They fortified my perseverance in the path which I had
+chosen as best; they raised me higher in my own esteem; they heightened
+the claims of the reproachers themselves to my respect and my
+gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>They thought me slothful, incurious, destitute of knowledge and of all
+thirst of knowledge, insolent, and profligate. They say that in the
+treatment of my father I have been ungrateful and inhuman. I have stolen
+his property, and deserted him in his calamity. Therefore they hate and
+revile me. It is well; I love them for these proofs of their discernment
+and integrity. Their indignation at wrong is the truest test of their
+virtue.</p>
+
+<p>It is true that they mistake me, but that arises from the circumstances
+of our mutual situation. They examined what was exposed to their view,
+they grasped at what was placed within their reach. To decide contrary
+to appearances, to judge from what they knew not, would prove them to be
+brutish and not rational, would make their decision of no worth, and
+render them, in their turn, objects of neglect and contempt.</p>
+
+<p>It is true that I hated school; that I sought occasions of absence, and
+finally, on being struck by the master, determined to enter his presence
+no more. I loved to leap, to run, to swim, to climb trees and to clamber
+up rocks, to shroud myself in thickets and stroll among woods, to obey
+the impulse of the moment, and to prate or be silent, just as my humour
+prompted me. All this I loved more than to go to and fro in the same
+path, and at stated hours to look off and on a book, to read just as
+much and of such a kind, to stand up and be seated, just as another
+thought proper to direct. I hated to be classed, cribbed, rebuked, and
+feruled at the pleasure of one who, as it seemed to me, knew no guide in
+his rewards but caprice, and no prompter in his punishments but passion.</p>
+
+<p>It is true that I took up the spade and the hoe as rarely, and for as
+short a time, as possible. I preferred to ramble in the forest and
+loiter on the hill; perpetually to change the scene; to scrutinize the
+endless variety of objects; to compare one leaf and pebble with another;
+to pursue those trains of thought which their resemblances and
+differences suggested; to inquire what it was that gave them this place,
+structure, and form, were more agreeable employments than ploughing and
+threshing.</p>
+
+<p>My father could well afford to hire labour. What my age and my
+constitution enabled me to do could be done by a sturdy boy, in half the
+time, with half the toil, and with none of the reluctance. The boy was a
+bond-servant, and the cost of his clothing and food was next to nothing.
+True it is, that my service would have saved him even this expense, but
+my motives for declining the effort were not hastily weighed or
+superficially examined. These were my motives.</p>
+
+<p>My frame was delicate and feeble. Exposure to wet blasts and vertical
+suns was sure to make me sick. My father was insensible to this
+consequence; and no degree of diligence would please him but that which
+would destroy my health. My health was dearer to my mother than to me.
+She was more anxious to exempt me from possible injuries than reason
+justified; but anxious she was, and I could not save her from anxiety
+but by almost wholly abstaining from labour. I thought her peace of mind
+was of some value, and that, if the inclination of either of my parents
+must be gratified at the expense of the other, the preference was due to
+the woman who bore me; who nursed me in disease; who watched over my
+safety with incessant tenderness; whose life and whose peace were
+involved in mine. I should have deemed myself brutish and obdurately
+wicked to have loaded her with fears and cares merely to smooth the brow
+of a froward old man, whose avarice called on me to sacrifice my ease
+and my health, and who shifted to other shoulders the province of
+sustaining me when sick, and of mourning for me when dead.</p>
+
+<p>I likewise believed that it became me to reflect upon the influence of
+my decision on my own happiness; and to weigh the profits flowing to my
+father from my labour, against the benefits of mental exercise, the
+pleasures of the woods and streams, healthful sensations, and the luxury
+of musing. The pecuniary profit was petty and contemptible. It obviated
+no necessity. It purchased no rational enjoyment. It merely provoked, by
+furnishing the means of indulgence, an appetite from which my father was
+not exempt. It cherished the seeds of depravity in him, and lessened the
+little stock of happiness belonging to my mother.</p>
+
+<p>I did not detain you long, my friends, in portraying my parents, and
+recounting domestic incidents, when I first told you my story. What had
+no connection with the history of Welbeck and with the part that I have
+acted upon this stage I thought it proper to omit. My omission was
+likewise prompted by other reasons. My mind is enervated and feeble,
+like my body. I cannot look upon the sufferings of those I love without
+exquisite pain. I cannot steel my heart by the force of reason, and by
+submission to necessity; and, therefore, too frequently employ the
+cowardly expedient of endeavouring to forget what I cannot remember
+without agony.</p>
+
+<p>I told you that my father was sober and industrious by habit; but habit
+is not uniform. There were intervals when his plodding and tame spirit
+gave place to the malice and fury of a demon. Liquors were not sought by
+him; but he could not withstand entreaty, and a potion that produced no
+effect upon others changed him into a maniac.</p>
+
+<p>I told you that I had a sister, whom the arts of a villain destroyed.
+Alas! the work of her destruction was left unfinished by him. The blows
+and contumelies of a misjudging and implacable parent, who scrupled not
+to thrust her, with her new-born infant, out of doors; the curses and
+taunts of unnatural brothers, left her no alternative but death.&mdash;&mdash;But
+I must not think of this; I must not think of the wrongs which my mother
+endured in the person of her only and darling daughter.</p>
+
+<p>My brothers were the copyists of the father, whom they resembled in
+temper and person. My mother doted on her own image in her daughter and
+in me. This daughter was ravished from her by self-violence, and her
+other children by disease. I only remained to appropriate her affections
+and fulfil her hopes. This alone had furnished a sufficient reason why I
+should be careful of my health and my life, but my father's character
+supplied me with a motive infinitely more cogent.</p>
+
+<p>It is almost incredible, but nevertheless true, that the only being
+whose presence and remonstrances had any influence on my father, at
+moments when his reason was extinct, was myself. As to my personal
+strength, it was nothing; yet my mother's person was rescued from
+brutal violence; he was checked, in the midst of his ferocious career,
+by a single look or exclamation from me. The fear of my rebukes had even
+some influence in enabling him to resist temptation. If I entered the
+tavern at the moment when he was lifting the glass to his lips, I never
+weighed the injunctions of decorum, but, snatching the vessel from his
+hand, I threw it on the ground. I was not deterred by the presence of
+others; and their censures on my want of filial respect and duty were
+listened to with unconcern. I chose not to justify myself by expatiating
+on domestic miseries, and by calling down that pity on my mother which I
+knew would only have increased her distress.</p>
+
+<p>The world regarded my deportment as insolent and perverse to a degree of
+insanity. To deny my father an indulgence which they thought harmless,
+and which, indeed, was harmless in its influence on other men; to
+interfere thus publicly with his social enjoyments, and expose him to
+mortification and shame, was loudly condemned; but my duty to my mother
+debarred me from eluding this censure on the only terms on which it
+could have been eluded. Now it has ceased to be necessary to conceal
+what passed in domestic retirements, and I should willingly confess the
+truth before any audience.</p>
+
+<p>At first my father imagined that threats and blows would intimidate his
+monitor. In this he was mistaken, and the detection of this mistake
+impressed him with an involuntary reverence for me, which set bounds to
+those excesses which disdained any other control. Hence I derived new
+motives for cherishing a life which was useful, in so many ways, to my
+mother.</p>
+
+<p>My condition is now changed. I am no longer on that field to which the
+law, as well as reason, must acknowledge that I had some right, while
+there was any in my father. I must hazard my life, if need be, in the
+pursuit of the means of honest subsistence. I never spared myself while
+in the service of Mr. Hadwin; and, at a more inclement season, should
+probably have incurred some hazard by my diligence.</p>
+
+<p>These were the motives of my <i>idleness</i>,&mdash;for my abstaining from the
+common toils of the farm passed by that name among my neighbours;
+though, in truth, my time was far from being wholly unoccupied by manual
+employments, but these required less exertion of body or mind, or were
+more connected with intellectual efforts. They were pursued in the
+seclusion of my chamber or the recesses of a wood. I did not labour to
+conceal them, but neither was I anxious to attract notice. It was
+sufficient that the censure of my neighbours was unmerited, to make me
+regard it with indifference.</p>
+
+<p>I sought not the society of persons of my own age, not from sullen or
+unsociable habits, but merely because those around me were totally
+unlike myself. Their tastes and occupations were incompatible with mine.
+In my few books, in my pen, in the vegetable and animal existences
+around me, I found companions who adapted their visits and intercourse
+to my convenience and caprice, and with whom I was never tired of
+communing.</p>
+
+<p>I was not unaware of the opinion which my neighbours had formed of my
+being improperly connected with Betty Lawrence. I am not sorry that I
+fell into company with that girl. Her intercourse has instructed me in
+what some would think impossible to be attained by one who had never
+haunted the impure recesses of licentiousness in a city. The knowledge
+which a residence in this town for ten years gave her audacious and
+inquisitive spirit she imparted to me. Her character, profligate and
+artful, libidinous and impudent, and made up of the impressions which a
+city life had produced on her coarse but active mind, was open to my
+study, and I studied it.</p>
+
+<p>I scarcely know how to repel the charge of illicit conduct, and to
+depict the exact species of intercourse subsisting between us. I always
+treated her with freedom, and sometimes with gayety. I had no motives to
+reserve. I was so formed that a creature like her had no power over my
+senses. That species of temptation adapted to entice me from the true
+path was widely different from the artifices of Betty. There was no
+point at which it was possible for her to get possession of my fancy. I
+watched her while she practised all her tricks and blandishments, as I
+regarded a similar deportment in the <i>animal salax ignavumque</i> who
+inhabits the sty. I made efforts to pursue my observations
+unembarrassed; but my efforts were made, not to restrain desire, but to
+suppress disgust. The difficulty lay, not in withholding my caresses,
+but in forbearing to repulse her with rage.</p>
+
+<p>Decorum, indeed, was not outraged, and all limits were not overstepped
+at once. Dubious advances were employed; but, when found unavailing,
+were displaced by more shameless and direct proceedings. She was too
+little versed in human nature to see that her last expedient was always
+worse than the preceding; and that, in proportion as she lost sight of
+decency, she multiplied the obstacles to her success.</p>
+
+<p>Betty had many enticements in person and air. She was ruddy, smooth, and
+plump. To these she added&mdash;I must not say what, for it is strange to
+what lengths a woman destitute of modesty will sometimes go. But, all
+her artifices availing her not at all in the contest with my
+insensibilities, she resorted to extremes which it would serve no good
+purpose to describe in this audience. They produced not the consequences
+she wished, but they produced another which was by no means displeasing
+to her. An incident one night occurred, from which a sagacious observer
+deduced the existence of an intrigue. It was useless to attempt to
+rectify his mistake by explaining appearances in a manner consistent
+with my innocence. This mode of explication implied a <i>continence</i> in me
+which he denied to be possible. The standard of possibilities,
+especially in vice and virtue, is fashioned by most men after their own
+character. A temptation which this judge of human nature knew that <i>he</i>
+was unable to resist, he sagely concluded to be irresistible by any
+other man, and quickly established the belief among my neighbours, that
+the woman who married the father had been prostituted to the son. Though
+I never admitted the truth of this aspersion, I believed it useless to
+deny, because no one would credit my denial, and because I had no power
+to disprove it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>What other inquiries were to be resolved by our young friend, we were
+now, at this late hour, obliged to postpone till the morrow. I shall
+pass over the reflections which a story like this would naturally
+suggest, and hasten to our next interview.</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast next morning, the subject of last night's conversation
+was renewed. I told him that something had occurred in his absence, in
+relation to Mrs. Wentworth and her nephew, that had perplexed us not a
+little. "My information is obtained," continued I, "from Wortley; and it
+is nothing less than that young Clavering, Mrs. Wentworth's nephew, is,
+at this time, actually alive."</p>
+
+<p>Surprise, but none of the embarrassment of guilt, appeared in his
+countenance at these tidings. He looked at me as if desirous that I
+should proceed.</p>
+
+<p>"It seems," added I, "that a letter was lately received by this lady
+from the father of Clavering, who is now in Europe. This letter reports
+that this son was lately met with in Charleston, and relates the means
+which old Mr. Clavering had used to prevail upon his son to return home;
+means, of the success of which he entertained well-grounded hopes. What
+think you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can only reject it," said he, after some pause, "as untrue. The
+father's correspondent may have been deceived. The father may have been
+deceived, or the father may conceive it necessary to deceive the aunt,
+or some other supposition as to the source of the error may be true; but
+an error it surely is. Clavering is not alive. I know the chamber where
+he died, and the withered pine under which he lies buried."</p>
+
+<p>"If she be deceived," said I, "it will be impossible to rectify her
+error."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope not. An honest front and a straight story will be sufficient."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you mean to act?"</p>
+
+<p>"Visit her, without doubt, and tell her the truth. My tale will be too
+circumstantial and consistent to permit her to disbelieve."</p>
+
+<p>"She will not hearken to you. She is too strongly prepossessed against
+you to admit you even to a hearing."</p>
+
+<p>"She cannot help it. Unless she lock her door against me, or stuff her
+ears with wool, she must hear me. Her prepossessions are reasonable, but
+are easily removed by telling the truth. Why does she suspect me of
+artifice? Because I seemed to be allied to Welbeck, and because I
+disguised the truth. That she thinks ill of me is not her fault, but my
+misfortune; and, happily for me, a misfortune easily removed."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will try to see her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will see her, and the sooner the better. I will see her to-day; this
+morning; as soon as I have seen Welbeck, whom I shall immediately visit
+in his prison."</p>
+
+<p>"There are other embarrassments and dangers of which you are not aware.
+Welbeck is pursued by many persons whom he has defrauded of large sums.
+By these persons you are deemed an accomplice in his guilt, and a
+warrant is already in the hands of officers for arresting you wherever
+you are found."</p>
+
+<p>"In what way," said Mervyn, sedately, "do they imagine me a partaker of
+his crime?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know not. You lived with him. You fled with him. You aided and
+connived at his escape."</p>
+
+<p>"Are these crimes?"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe not, but they subject you to suspicion."</p>
+
+<p>"To arrest and to punishment?"</p>
+
+<p>"To detention for a while, perhaps. But these alone cannot expose you to
+punishment."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so. Then I have nothing to fear."</p>
+
+<p>"You have imprisonment and obloquy, at least, to dread."</p>
+
+<p>"True; but they cannot be avoided but by my exile and skulking out of
+sight,&mdash;evils infinitely more formidable. I shall, therefore, not avoid
+them. The sooner my conduct is subjected to scrutiny, the better. Will
+you go with me to Welbeck?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will go with you."</p>
+
+<p>Inquiring for Welbeck of the keeper of the prison, we were informed that
+he was in his own apartment, very sick. The physician attending the
+prison had been called, but the prisoner had preserved an obstinate and
+scornful silence; and had neither explained his condition, nor consented
+to accept any aid.</p>
+
+<p>We now went alone into his apartment. His sensibility seemed fast
+ebbing, yet an emotion of joy was visible in his eyes at the appearance
+of Mervyn. He seemed likewise to recognise in me his late visitant, and
+made no objection to my entrance.</p>
+
+<p>"How are you this morning?" said Arthur, seating himself on the bedside,
+and taking his hand. The sick man was scarcely able to articulate his
+reply:&mdash;"I shall soon be well. I have longed to see you. I want to leave
+with you a few words." He now cast his languid eyes on me. "You are his
+friend," he continued. "You know all. You may stay."</p>
+
+<p>There now succeeded a long pause, during which he closed his eyes, and
+resigned himself as if to an oblivion of all thought. His pulse under my
+hand was scarcely perceptible. From this in some minutes he recovered,
+and, fixing his eyes on Mervyn, resumed, in a broken and feeble
+accent:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Clemenza! You have seen her. Weeks ago, I left her in an accursed
+house; yet she has not been mistreated. Neglected and abandoned indeed,
+but not mistreated. Save her, Mervyn. Comfort her. Awaken charity for
+her sake.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell you what has happened. The tale would be too long,&mdash;too
+mournful. Yet, in justice to the living, I must tell you something. My
+woes and my crimes will be buried with me. Some of them, but not all.</p>
+
+<p>"Ere this, I should have been many leagues upon the ocean, had not a
+newspaper fallen into my hands while on the eve of embarkation. By that
+I learned that a treasure was buried with the remains of the ill-fated
+Watson. I was destitute. I was unjust enough to wish to make this
+treasure my own. Prone to think I was forgotten, or numbered with the
+victims of pestilence, I ventured to return under a careless disguise. I
+penetrated to the vaults of that deserted dwelling by night. I dug up
+the bones of my friend, and found the girdle and its valuable contents,
+according to the accurate description that I had read.</p>
+
+<p>"I hastened back with my prize to Baltimore, but my evil destiny
+overtook me at last. I was recognised by emissaries of Jamieson,
+arrested and brought hither, and here shall I consummate my fate and
+defeat the rage of my creditors by death. But first&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Here Welbeck stretched out his left hand to Mervyn, and, after some
+reluctance, showed a roll of lead.</p>
+
+<p>"Receive this," said he. "In the use of it, be guided by your honesty
+and by the same advertisement that furnished me the clue by which to
+recover it. That being secured, the world and I will part forever.
+Withdraw, for your presence can help me nothing."</p>
+
+<p>We were unwilling to comply with his injunction, and continued some
+longer time in his chamber; but our kind intent availed nothing. He
+quickly relapsed into insensibility, from which he recovered not again,
+but next day expired. Such, in the flower of his age, was the fate of
+Thomas Welbeck.</p>
+
+<p>Whatever interest I might feel in accompanying the progress of my young
+friend, a sudden and unforeseen emergency compelled me again to leave
+the city. A kinsman, to whom I was bound by many obligations, was
+suffering a lingering disease, and, imagining, with some reason, his
+dissolution to be not far distant, he besought my company and my
+assistance, to soothe, at least, the agonies of his last hour. I was
+anxious to clear up the mysteries which Arthur's conduct had produced,
+and to shield him, if possible, from the evils which I feared awaited
+him. It was impossible, however, to decline the invitation of my
+kinsman, as his residence was not a day's journey from the city. I was
+obliged to content myself with occasional information, imparted by
+Mervyn's letters or those of my wife.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, on leaving the prison, I hasted to inform Mervyn of the true
+nature of the scene which had just passed. By this extraordinary
+occurrence, the property of the Maurices was now in honest hands.
+Welbeck, stimulated by selfish motives, had done that which any other
+person would have found encompassed with formidable dangers and
+difficulties. How this attempt was suggested or executed, he had not
+informed us, nor was it desirable to know. It was sufficient that the
+means of restoring their own to a destitute and meritorious family were
+now in our possession.</p>
+
+<p>Having returned home, I unfolded to Mervyn all the particulars
+respecting Williams and the Maurices which I had lately learned from
+Wortley. He listened with deep attention, and, my story being finished,
+he said, "In this small compass, then, is the patrimony and subsistence
+of a numerous family. To restore it to them is the obvious
+proceeding&mdash;but how? Where do they abide?"</p>
+
+<p>"Williams and Watson's wife live in Baltimore, and the Maurices live
+near that town. The advertisements alluded to by Wortley, and which are
+to be found in any newspaper, will inform us; but, first, are we sure
+that any or all of these bills are contained in this covering?"</p>
+
+<p>The lead was now unrolled, and the bills which Williams had described
+were found enclosed. Nothing appeared to be deficient. Of this, however,
+we were scarcely qualified to judge. Those that were the property of
+Williams might not be entire, and what would be the consequence of
+presenting them to him, if any had been embezzled by Welbeck?</p>
+
+<p>This difficulty was obviated by Mervyn, who observed that the
+advertisement describing these bills would afford us ample information
+on this head. "Having found out where the Maurices and Mrs. Watson live,
+nothing remains but to visit them, and put an end, as far as lies in my
+power, to their inquietudes."</p>
+
+<p>"What! Would you go to Baltimore?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. Can any other expedient be proper? How shall I otherwise
+insure the safe conveyance of these papers?"</p>
+
+<p>"You may send them by post."</p>
+
+<p>"But why not go myself?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can hardly tell, unless your appearance on such an errand may be
+suspected likely to involve you in embarrassments."</p>
+
+<p>"What embarrassments? If they receive their own, ought they not to be
+satisfied?"</p>
+
+<p>"The inquiry will naturally be made as to the manner of gaining
+possession of these papers. They were lately in the hands of Watson, but
+Watson has disappeared. Suspicions are awake respecting the cause of his
+disappearance. These suspicions are connected with Welbeck, and
+Welbeck's connection with you is not unknown."</p>
+
+<p>"These are evils, but I see not how an ingenious and open conduct is
+adapted to increase these evils. If they come, I must endure them."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe your decision is right. No one is so skilful an advocate in a
+cause, as he whose cause it is. I rely upon your skill and address, and
+shall leave you to pursue your own way. I must leave you for a time, but
+shall expect to be punctually informed of all that passes." With this
+agreement we parted, and I hastened to perform my intended journey.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I am glad, my friend, thy nimble pen has got so far upon its journey.
+What remains of my story may be despatched in a trice. I have just now
+some vacant hours, which might possibly be more usefully employed, but
+not in an easier manner or more pleasant. So, let me carry on thy
+thread.</p>
+
+<p>First, let me mention the resolutions I had formed at the time I parted
+with my friend. I had several objects in view. One was a conference with
+Mrs. Wentworth; another was an interview with her whom I met with at
+Villars's. My heart melted when I thought upon the desolate condition of
+Clemenza, and determined me to direct my first efforts for her relief.
+For this end I was to visit the female who had given me a direction to
+her house. The name of this person is Achsa Fielding, and she lived,
+according to her own direction, at No. 40 Walnut Street.</p>
+
+<p>I went thither without delay. She was not at home. Having gained
+information from the servant as to when she might be found, I proceeded
+to Mrs. Wentworth's. In going thither my mind was deeply occupied in
+meditation; and, with my usual carelessness of forms, I entered the
+house and made my way to the parlour, where an interview had formerly
+taken place between us.</p>
+
+<p>Having arrived, I began, though somewhat unseasonably, to reflect upon
+the topics with which I should introduce my conversation, and
+particularly the manner in which I should introduce myself. I had opened
+doors without warning, and traversed passages without being noticed.
+This had arisen from my thoughtlessness. There was no one within hearing
+or sight. What was next to be done? Should I not return softly to the
+outer door, and summon the servant by knocking?</p>
+
+<p>Preparing to do this, I heard a footstep in the entry which suspended my
+design. I stood in the middle of the floor, attentive to these
+movements, when presently the door opened, and there entered the
+apartment Mrs. Wentworth herself! She came, as it seemed, without
+expectation of finding any one there. When, therefore, the figure of a
+man caught her vagrant attention, she started and cast a hasty look
+towards me.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray!" (in a peremptory tone,) "how came you here, sir? and what is
+your business?"</p>
+
+<p>Neither arrogance, on the one hand, nor humility, upon the other, had
+any part in modelling my deportment. I came not to deprecate anger, or
+exult over distress. I answered, therefore, distinctly, firmly, and
+erectly,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I came to see you, madam, and converse with you; but, being busy with
+other thoughts, I forgot to knock at the door. No evil was intended by
+my negligence, though propriety has certainly not been observed. Will
+you pardon this intrusion, and condescend to grant me your attention?"</p>
+
+<p>"To what? What have you to say to me? I know you only as the accomplice
+of a villain in an attempt to deceive me. There is nothing to justify
+your coming hither, and I desire you to leave the house with as little
+ceremony as you entered it."</p>
+
+<p>My eyes were lowered at this rebuke, yet I did not obey the command.
+"Your treatment of me, madam, is such as I appear to you to deserve.
+Appearances are unfavourable to me, but those appearances are false. I
+have concurred in no plot against your reputation or your fortune. I
+have told you nothing but the truth. I came hither to promote no selfish
+or sinister purpose. I have no favour to entreat, and no petition to
+offer, but that you will suffer me to clear up those mistakes which you
+have harboured respecting me.</p>
+
+<p>"I am poor. I am destitute of fame and of kindred. I have nothing to
+console me in obscurity and indigence, but the approbation of my own
+heart and the good opinion of those who know me as I am. The good may be
+led to despise and condemn me. Their aversion and scorn shall not make
+me unhappy; but it is my interest and my duty to rectify their error if
+I can. I regard your character with esteem. You have been mistaken in
+condemning me as a liar and impostor, and I came to remove this mistake.
+I came, if not to procure your esteem, at least to take away hatred and
+suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>"But this is not all my purpose. You are in an error in relation not
+only to my character, but to the situation of your nephew Clavering. I
+formerly told you, that I saw him die; that I assisted at his burial:
+but my tale was incoherent and imperfect, and you have since received
+intelligence to which you think proper to trust, and which assures you
+that he is still living. All I now ask is your attention, while I relate
+the particulars of my knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>"Proof of my veracity or innocence may be of no value in your eyes, but
+the fate of your nephew ought to be known to you. Certainty, on this
+head, may be of much importance to your happiness, and to the regulation
+of your future conduct. To hear me patiently can do you no injury, and
+may benefit you much. Will you permit me to go on?"</p>
+
+<p>During this address, little abatement of resentment and scorn was
+visible in my companion.</p>
+
+<p>"I will hear you," she replied. "Your invention may amuse if it does not
+edify. But, I pray you, let your story be short."</p>
+
+<p>I was obliged to be content with this ungraceful concession, and
+proceeded to begin my narration. I described the situation of my
+father's dwelling. I mentioned the year, month, day, and hour of her
+nephew's appearance among us. I expatiated minutely on his form,
+features, dress, sound of his voice, and repeated his words. His
+favourite gestures and attitudes were faithfully described.</p>
+
+<p>I had gone but a little way in my story, when the effects were visible
+in her demeanour which I expected from it. Her knowledge of the youth,
+and of the time and manner of his disappearance, made it impossible for
+me, with so minute a narrative, to impose upon her credulity. Every
+word, every incident related, attested my truth, by their agreement with
+what she herself previously knew.</p>
+
+<p>Her suspicious and angry watchfulness was quickly exchanged for downcast
+looks, and stealing tears, and sighs difficultly repressed. Meanwhile, I
+did not pause, but described the treatment he received from my mother's
+tenderness, his occupations, the freaks of his insanity, and, finally,
+the circumstances of his death and funeral.</p>
+
+<p>Thence I hastened to the circumstances which brought me to the city;
+which placed me in the service of Welbeck, and obliged me to perform so
+ambiguous a part in her presence. I left no difficulty to be solved, and
+no question unanticipated.</p>
+
+<p>"I have now finished my story," I continued, "and accomplished my design
+in coming hither. Whether I have vindicated my integrity from your
+suspicions, I know not. I have done what in me lay to remove your error;
+and, in that, have done my duty. What more remains? Any inquiries you
+are pleased to make, I am ready to answer. If there be none to make, I
+will comply with your former commands, and leave the house with as
+little ceremony as I entered it."</p>
+
+<p>"Your story," she replied, "has been unexpected. I believe it fully, and
+am sorry for the hard thoughts which past appearances have made me
+entertain concerning you."</p>
+
+<p>Here she sunk into mournful silence. "The information," she at length
+resumed, "which I have received from another quarter respecting that
+unfortunate youth, astonishes and perplexes me. It is inconsistent with
+your story, but it must be founded on some mistake, which I am, at
+present, unable to unravel. Welbeck, whose connection has been so
+unfortunate to you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Unfortunate! Dear madam! How unfortunate? It has done away a part of my
+ignorance of the world in which I live. It has led me to the situation
+in which I am now placed. It has introduced me to the knowledge of many
+good people. It has made me the witness and the subject of many acts of
+beneficence and generosity. My knowledge of Welbeck has been useful to me.
+It has enabled me to be useful to others. I look back upon that allotment
+of my destiny which first led me to his door, with gratitude and pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"Would to heaven," continued I, somewhat changing my tone, "intercourse
+with Welbeck had been as harmless to all others as it has been to me!
+that no injury to fortune and fame, and innocence and life, had been
+incurred by others greater than has fallen upon my head! There is one
+being, whose connection with him has not been utterly dissimilar in its
+origin and circumstances to mine, though the catastrophe has, indeed,
+been widely and mournfully different.</p>
+
+<p>"And yet, within this moment, a thought has occurred from which I derive
+some consolation and some hope. You, dear madam, are rich. These
+spacious apartments, this plentiful accommodation, are yours. You have
+enough for your own gratification and convenience, and somewhat to
+spare. Will you take to your protecting arms, to your hospitable roof,
+an unhappy girl whom the arts of Welbeck have robbed of fortune,
+reputation, and honour, who is now languishing in poverty, weeping over
+the lifeless remains of her babe, surrounded by the agents of vice, and
+trembling on the verge of infamy?"</p>
+
+<p>"What can this mean?" replied the lady. "Of whom do you speak?"</p>
+
+<p>"You shall know her. You shall be apprized of her claims to your
+compassion. Her story, as far as is known to me, I will faithfully
+repeat to you. She is a stranger; an Italian; her name is Clemenza
+Lodi."</p>
+
+<p>"Clemenza Lodi! Good heaven!" exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth; "why, surely&mdash;it
+cannot be. And yet&mdash;is it possible that you are that person?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not comprehend you, madam."</p>
+
+<p>"A friend has related a transaction of a strange sort. It is scarcely an
+hour since she told it me. The name of Clemenza Lodi was mentioned in
+it, and a young man of most singular deportment was described. But tell
+me how you were engaged on Thursday morning."</p>
+
+<p>"I was coming to this city from a distance. I stopped ten minutes at the
+house of&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Villars?"</p>
+
+<p>"The same. Perhaps you know her and her character. Perhaps you can
+confirm or rectify my present opinions concerning her. It is there that
+the unfortunate Clemenza abides. It is thence that I wish her to be
+speedily removed."</p>
+
+<p>"I have heard of you; of your conduct upon that occasion."</p>
+
+<p>"Of me?" answered I, eagerly. "Do you know that woman?" So saying, I
+produced the card which I had received from her, and on which her name
+was written.</p>
+
+<p>"I know her well. She is my countrywoman and my friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Your friend? Then she is good; she is innocent; she is generous. Will
+she be a sister, a protectress, to Clemenza? Will you exhort her to a
+deed of charity? Will you be, yourself, an example of beneficence?
+Direct me to Miss Fielding, I beseech you. I have called on her already,
+but in vain, and there is no time to be lost."</p>
+
+<p>"Why are you so precipitate? What would you do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Take her away from that house instantly&mdash;bring her hither&mdash;place her
+under your protection&mdash;give her Mrs. Wentworth for a counsellor&mdash;a
+friend&mdash;a mother. Shall I do this? Shall I hie thither to-day, this very
+hour&mdash;now? Give me your consent, and she shall be with you before noon."</p>
+
+<p>"By no means," replied she, with earnestness. "You are too hasty. An
+affair of so much importance cannot be despatched in a moment. There are
+many difficulties and doubts to be first removed."</p>
+
+<p>"Let them be reserved for the future. Withhold not your helping hand
+till the struggle has disappeared forever. Think on the gulf that is
+already gaping to swallow her. This is no time to hesitate and falter. I
+will tell you her story, but not now; we will postpone it till
+to-morrow, and first secure her from impending evils. She shall tell it
+you herself. In an hour I will bring her hither, and she herself shall
+recount to you her sorrows. Will you let me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Your behaviour is extraordinary. I can scarcely tell whether this
+simplicity be real or affected. One would think that your common sense
+would show you the impropriety of your request. To admit under my roof a
+woman notoriously dishonoured, and from an infamous house&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"My dearest madam! How can you reflect upon the situation without
+irresistible pity? I see that you are thoroughly aware of her past
+calamity and her present danger. Do not these urge you to make haste to
+her relief? Can any lot be more deplorable than hers? Can any state be
+more perilous? Poverty is not the only evil that oppresses or that
+threatens her. The scorn of the world, and her own compunction, the
+death of the fruit of her error and the witness of her shame, are not
+the worst. She is exposed to the temptations of the profligate; while
+she remains with Mrs. Villars, her infamy accumulates; her further
+debasement is facilitated; her return to reputation and to virtue is
+obstructed by new bars."</p>
+
+<p>"How know I that her debasement is not already complete and
+irremediable? She is a mother, but not a wife. How came she thus? Is her
+being Welbeck's prostitute no proof of her guilt?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! I know not. I believe her not very culpable; I know her to be
+unfortunate; to have been robbed and betrayed. You are a stranger to her
+history. I am myself imperfectly acquainted with it.</p>
+
+<p>"But let me tell you the little that I know. Perhaps my narrative may
+cause you to think of her as I do."</p>
+
+<p>She did not object to this proposal, and I immediately recounted all
+that I had gained from my own observations, or from Welbeck himself,
+respecting this forlorn girl. Having finished my narrative, I proceeded
+thus:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Can you hesitate to employ that power which was given you for good
+ends, to rescue this sufferer? Take her to your home; to your bosom; to
+your confidence. Keep aloof those temptations which beset her in her
+present situation. Restore her to that purity which her desolate
+condition, her ignorance, her misplaced gratitude and the artifices of a
+skilful dissembler, have destroyed, if it be destroyed; for how know we
+under what circumstances her ruin was accomplished? With what pretences,
+or appearances, or promises, she was won to compliance?"</p>
+
+<p>"True. I confess my ignorance; but ought not that ignorance to be
+removed before she makes a part of my family?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no! It may be afterwards removed. It cannot be removed before. By
+bringing her hither you shield her, at least, from future and possible
+evils. Here you can watch her conduct and sift her sentiments
+conveniently and at leisure. Should she prove worthy of your charity,
+how justly may you congratulate yourself on your seasonable efforts in
+her cause! If she prove unworthy, you may then demean yourself according
+to her demerits."</p>
+
+<p>"I must reflect upon it.&mdash;To-morrow&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Let me prevail on you to admit her at once, and without delay. This
+very moment may be the critical one. To-day we may exert ourselves with
+success, but to-morrow all our efforts may be fruitless. Why fluctuate,
+why linger, when so much good may be done, and no evil can possibly be
+incurred? It requires but a word from you; you need not move a finger.
+Your house is large. You have chambers vacant and convenient. Consent
+only that your door shall not be barred against her; that you will treat
+her with civility: to carry your kindness into effect; to persuade her
+to attend me hither and to place herself in your care, shall be my
+province."</p>
+
+<p>These and many similar entreaties and reasonings were ineffectual. Her
+general disposition was kind, but she was unaccustomed to strenuous or
+sudden exertions. To admit the persuasions of such an advocate to so
+uncommon a scheme as that of sharing her house with a creature thus
+previously unknown to her, thus loaded with suspicion and with obloquy,
+was not possible.</p>
+
+<p>I at last forbore importunity, and requested her to tell me when I might
+expect to meet with Mrs. Fielding at her lodgings. Inquiry was made to
+what end I sought an interview. I made no secret of my purpose.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you mad, young man?" she exclaimed. "Mrs. Fielding has already been
+egregiously imprudent. On the faith of an ancient slight acquaintance
+with Mrs. Villars in Europe, she suffered herself to be decoyed into a
+visit. Instead of taking warning by numerous tokens of the real
+character of that woman, in her behaviour and in that of her visitants,
+she consented to remain there one night. The next morning took place
+that astonishing interview with you which she has since described to me.
+She is now warned against the like indiscretion. And, pray, what
+benevolent scheme would you propose to her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Has she property? Is she rich?"</p>
+
+<p>"She is. Unhappily, perhaps, for her, she is absolute mistress of her
+fortune, and has neither guardian nor parent to control her in the use
+of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Has she virtue? Does she know the value of affluence and a fair fame?
+And will not she devote a few dollars to rescue a fellow-creature from
+indigence and infamy and vice? Surely she will. She will hazard nothing
+by the boon. I will be her almoner. I will provide the wretched stranger
+with food and raiment and dwelling; I will pay for all, if Mrs.
+Fielding, from her superfluity, will supply the means. Clemenza shall
+owe life and honour to your friend, till I am able to supply the needful
+sum from my own stock."</p>
+
+<p>While thus speaking, my companion gazed at me with steadfastness:&mdash;"I
+know not what to make of you. Your language and ideas are those of a
+lunatic. Are you acquainted with Mrs. Fielding?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I have seen her two days ago, and she has invited me to see her
+again."</p>
+
+<p>"And on the strength of this acquaintance you expect to be her almoner?
+To be the medium of her charity?"</p>
+
+<p>"I desire to save her trouble; to make charity as light and easy as
+possible. 'Twill be better if she perform those offices herself. 'Twill
+redound more to the credit of her reason and her virtue. But I solicit
+her benignity only in the cause of Clemenza. For her only do I wish at
+present to call forth her generosity and pity."</p>
+
+<p>"And do you imagine she will intrust her money to one of your age and
+sex, whom she knows so imperfectly, to administer to the wants of one
+whom she found in such a house as Mrs. Villars's? She never will. She
+mentioned her imprudent engagement to meet you, but she is now warned
+against the folly of such confidence.</p>
+
+<p>"You have told me plausible stories of yourself and of this Clemenza. I
+cannot say that I disbelieve them, but I know the ways of the world too
+well to bestow implicit faith so easily. You are an extraordinary young
+man. You may possibly be honest. Such a one as you, with your education
+and address, may possibly have passed all your life in a hovel; but it
+is scarcely credible, let me tell you. I believe most of the facts
+respecting my nephew, because my knowledge of him before his flight
+would enable me to detect your falsehood; but there must be other proofs
+besides an innocent brow and a voluble tongue, to make me give full
+credit to your pretensions.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no claim upon Welbeck which can embarrass you. On that score,
+you are free from any molestation from me or my friends. I have
+suspected you of being an accomplice in some vile plot, and am now
+inclined to acquit you; but that is all that you must expect from me,
+till your character be established by other means than your own
+assertions. I am engaged at present, and must therefore request you to
+put an end to your visit."</p>
+
+<p>This strain was much unlike the strain which preceded it. I imagined, by
+the mildness of her tone and manners, that her unfavourable
+prepossessions were removed; but they seemed to have suddenly regained
+their pristine force. I was somewhat disconcerted by this unexpected
+change. I stood for a minute silent and irresolute.</p>
+
+<p>Just then a knock was heard at the door, and presently entered that very
+female whom I had met with at Villars's. I caught her figure as I
+glanced through the window. Mrs. Wentworth darted at me many significant
+glances, which commanded me to withdraw; but, with this object in view,
+it was impossible.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as she entered, her eyes were fixed upon me. Certain
+recollections naturally occurred at that moment, and made her cheeks
+glow. Some confusion reigned for a moment, but was quickly dissipated.
+She did not notice me, but exchanged salutations with her friend.</p>
+
+<p>All this while I stood near the window, in a situation not a little
+painful. Certain tremors which I had not been accustomed to feel, and
+which seemed to possess a mystical relation to the visitant, disabled me
+at once from taking my leave, or from performing any useful purpose by
+staying. At length, struggling for composure, I approached her, and,
+showing her the card she had given me, said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Agreeably to this direction, I called an hour ago, at your lodgings. I
+found you not. I hope you will permit me to call once more. When shall
+I expect to meet you at home?"</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes were cast on the floor. A kind of indirect attention was fixed
+on Mrs. Wentworth, serving to intimidate and check her. At length she
+said, in an irresolute voice, "I shall be at home this evening."</p>
+
+<p>"And this evening," replied I, "I will call to see you." So saying, I
+left the house.</p>
+
+<p>This interval was tedious, but was to be endured with equanimity. I was
+impatient to be gone to Baltimore, and hoped to be able to set out by
+the dawn of next day. Meanwhile, I was necessarily to perform something
+with respect to Clemenza.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner I accompanied Mrs. Stevens to visit Miss Carlton. I was
+eager to see a woman who could bear adversity in the manner which my
+friend had described.</p>
+
+<p>She met us at the door of her apartment. Her seriousness was not abated
+by her smiles of affability and welcome. "My friend!" whispered I, "how
+truly lovely is this Miss Carlton! Are the heart and the intelligence
+within worthy of these features?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, they are. The account of her employments, of her resignation to
+the ill fate of the brother whom she loves, proves that they are."</p>
+
+<p>My eyes were riveted to her countenance and person. I felt
+uncontrollable eagerness to speak to her, and to gain her good opinion.</p>
+
+<p>"You must know this young man, my dear Miss Carlton," said my friend,
+looking at me; "he is my husband's friend, and professes a great desire
+to be yours. You must not treat him as a mere stranger, for he knows
+your character and situation already, as well as that of your brother."</p>
+
+<p>She looked at me with benignity:&mdash;"I accept his friendship willingly and
+gratefully, and shall endeavour to convince him that his good opinion is
+not misplaced."</p>
+
+<p>There now ensued a conversation somewhat general, in which this young
+woman showed a mind vigorous from exercise and unembarrassed by care.
+She affected no concealment of her own condition, of her wants, or her
+comforts. She laid no stress upon misfortunes, but contrived to deduce
+some beneficial consequence to herself, and some motive for gratitude to
+Heaven, from every wayward incident that had befallen her.</p>
+
+<p>This demeanour emboldened me, at length, to inquire into the cause of
+her brother's imprisonment, and the nature of his debt.</p>
+
+<p>She answered frankly and without hesitation:&mdash;"It is a debt of his
+father's, for which he made himself responsible during his father's
+life. The act was generous but imprudent, as the event has shown;
+though, at the time, the unhappy effects could not be foreseen.</p>
+
+<p>"My father," continued she, "was arrested by his creditor, at a time
+when the calmness and comforts of his own dwelling were necessary to his
+health. The creditor was obdurate, and would release him upon no
+condition but that of receiving a bond from my brother, by which he
+engaged to pay the debt at several successive times and in small
+portions. All these instalments were discharged with great difficulty
+indeed, but with sufficient punctuality, except the last, to which my
+brother's earnings were not adequate."</p>
+
+<p>"How much is the debt?"</p>
+
+<p>"Four hundred dollars."</p>
+
+<p>"And is the state of the creditor such as to make the loss of four
+hundred dollars of more importance to him than the loss of liberty to
+your brother?"</p>
+
+<p>She answered, smiling, "That is a very abstract view of things. On such
+a question you and I might, perhaps, easily decide in favour of my
+brother; but would there not be some danger of deciding partially? His
+conduct is a proof of his decision, and there is no power to change it."</p>
+
+<p>"Will not argument change it? Methinks in so plain a case I should be
+able to convince him. You say he is rich and childless. His annual
+income is ten times more than this sum. Your brother cannot pay the debt
+while in prison; whereas, if at liberty, he might slowly and finally
+discharge it. If his humanity would not yield, his avarice might be
+brought to acquiesce."</p>
+
+<p>"But there is another passion which you would find it somewhat harder to
+subdue, and that is his vengeance. He thinks himself wronged, and
+imprisons my brother, not to enforce payment, but to inflict misery. If
+you could persuade him that there is no hardship in imprisonment, you
+would speedily gain the victory; but that could not be attempted
+consistently with truth. In proportion to my brother's suffering is his
+gratification."</p>
+
+<p>"You draw an odious and almost incredible portrait."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet such a one would serve for the likeness of almost every second
+man we meet."</p>
+
+<p>"And is such your opinion of mankind? Your experience must surely have
+been of a rueful tenor to justify such hard thoughts of the rest of your
+species."</p>
+
+<p>"By no means. It has been what those whose situation disables them from
+looking further than the surface of things would regard as unfortunate;
+but, if my goods and evils were equitably balanced, the former would be
+the weightiest. I have found kindness and goodness in great numbers, but
+have likewise met prejudice and rancor in many. My opinion of Farquhar
+is not lightly taken up. I saw him yesterday, and the nature of his
+motives in the treatment of my brother was plain enough."</p>
+
+<p>Here this topic was succeeded by others, and the conversation ceased not
+till the hour had arrived on which I had preconcerted to visit Mrs.
+Fielding. I left my two friends for this purpose.</p>
+
+<p>I was admitted to Mrs. Fielding's presence without scruple or
+difficulty. There were two females in her company, and one of the other
+sex, well-dressed, elderly, and sedate persons. Their discourse turned
+upon political topics, with which, as you know, I have but slight
+acquaintance. They talked of fleets and armies, of Robespierre and Pitt,
+of whom I had only a newspaper-knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>In a short time the women rose, and, huddling on their cloaks,
+disappeared, in company with the gentleman. Being thus left alone with
+Mrs. Fielding, some embarrassment was mutually betrayed. With much
+hesitation, which, however, gradually disappeared, my companion, at
+length, began the conversation:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"You met me lately, in a situation, sir, on which I look back with
+trembling and shame, but not with any self-condemnation. I was led into
+it without any fault, unless a too hasty confidence may be styled a
+fault. I had known Mrs. Villars in England, where she lived with an
+untainted reputation, at least; and the sight of my countrywoman, in a
+foreign land, awakened emotions in the indulgence of which I did not
+imagine there was either any guilt or any danger. She invited me to see
+her at her house with so much urgency and warmth, and solicited me to
+take a place immediately in a chaise in which she had come to the city,
+that I too incautiously complied.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a stranger to me, and I am unacquainted with your character.
+What little I have seen of your deportment, and what little I have
+lately heard concerning you from Mrs. Wentworth, do not produce
+unfavourable impressions; but the apology I have made was due to my own
+reputation, and should have been offered to you whatever your character
+had been." There she stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"I came not hither," said I, "to receive an apology. Your demeanour, on
+our first interview, shielded you sufficiently from any suspicions or
+surmises that I could form. What you have now mentioned was likewise
+mentioned by your friend, and was fully believed upon her authority. My
+purpose, in coming, related not to you, but to another. I desired merely
+to interest your generosity and justice on behalf of one whose destitute
+and dangerous condition may lay claim to your compassion and your
+succour."</p>
+
+<p>"I comprehend you," said she, with an air of some perplexity. "I know
+the claims of that person."</p>
+
+<p>"And will you comply with them?"</p>
+
+<p>"In what manner can I serve her?"</p>
+
+<p>"By giving her the means of living."</p>
+
+<p>"Does she not possess them already?"</p>
+
+<p>"She is destitute. Her dependence was wholly placed upon one that is
+dead, by whom her person was dishonoured and her fortune embezzled."</p>
+
+<p>"But she still lives. She is not turned into the street. She is not
+destitute of home."</p>
+
+<p>"But what a home!"</p>
+
+<p>"Such as she may choose to remain in."</p>
+
+<p>"She cannot choose it. She must not choose it. She remains through
+ignorance, or through the incapacity of leaving it."</p>
+
+<p>"But how shall she be persuaded to a change?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will persuade her. I will fully explain her situation. I will supply
+her with a new home."</p>
+
+<p>"You will persuade her to go with you, and to live at a home of your
+providing and on your bounty?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"Would that change be worthy of a cautious person? Would it benefit her
+reputation? Would it prove her love of independence?"</p>
+
+<p>"My purposes are good. I know not why she should suspect them. But I am
+only anxious to be the instrument. Let her be indebted to one of her own
+sex, of unquestionable reputation. Admit her into this house. Invite her
+to your arms. Cherish and console her as your sister."</p>
+
+<p>"Before I am convinced that she deserves it? And even then, what regard
+shall I, young, unmarried, independent, affluent, pay to my own
+reputation in harbouring a woman in these circumstances?"</p>
+
+<p>"But you need not act yourself. Make me your agent and almoner. Only
+supply her with the means of subsistence through me."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you have me act a clandestine part? Hold meetings with one of
+your sex, and give him money for a purpose which I must hide from the
+world? Is it worth while to be a dissembler and impostor? And will not
+such conduct incur more dangerous surmises and suspicions than would
+arise from acting openly and directly? You will forgive me for reminding
+you, likewise, that it is particularly incumbent upon those in my
+situation to be circumspect in their intercourse with men and with
+strangers. This is the second time that I have seen you. My knowledge of
+you is extremely dubious and imperfect, and such as would make the
+conduct you prescribe to me, in a high degree, rash and culpable. You
+must not, therefore, expect me to pursue it."</p>
+
+<p>These words were delivered with an air of firmness and dignity. I was
+not insensible to the truth of her representations. "I confess," said I,
+"what you have said makes me doubt the propriety of my proposal; yet I
+would fain be of service to her. Cannot you point out some practicable
+method?"</p>
+
+<p>She was silent and thoughtful, and seemed indisposed to answer my
+question.</p>
+
+<p>"I had set my heart upon success in this negotiation," continued I, "and
+could not imagine any obstacle to its success; but I find my ignorance
+of the world's ways much greater than I had previously expected. You
+defraud yourself of all the happiness redounding from the act of making
+others happy. You sacrifice substance to show, and are more anxious to
+prevent unjust aspersions from lighting on yourself, than to rescue a
+fellow-creature from guilt and infamy.</p>
+
+<p>"You are rich, and abound in all the conveniences and luxuries of life.
+A small portion of your superfluity would obviate the wants of a being
+not less worthy than yourself. It is not avarice or aversion to labour
+that makes you withhold your hand. It is dread of the sneers and
+surmises of malevolence and ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not urge you further at present. Your determination to be wise
+should not be hasty. Think upon the subject calmly and sedately, and
+form your resolution in the course of three days. At the end of that
+period I will visit you again." So saying, and without waiting for
+comment or answer, I withdrew.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I mounted the stage-coach at daybreak the next day, in company with a
+sallow Frenchman from St. Domingo, his fiddle-case, an ape, and two
+female blacks. The Frenchman, after passing the suburbs, took out his
+violin and amused himself with humming to his own <i>tweedle-tweedle</i>. The
+monkey now and then munched an apple, which was given to him from a
+basket by the blacks, who gazed with stupid wonder, and an exclamatory
+<i>La! La!</i> upon the passing scenery, or chattered to each other in a sort
+of open-mouthed, half-articulate, monotonous, singsong jargon.</p>
+
+<p>The man looked seldom either on this side or that; and spoke only to
+rebuke the frolics of the monkey, with a "Tenez! Dominique! Prenez
+garde! Diable noir!"</p>
+
+<p>As to me, my thought was busy in a thousand ways. I sometimes gazed at
+the faces of my <i>four</i> companions, and endeavoured to discern the
+differences and samenesses between them. I took an exact account of the
+features, proportions, looks, and gestures of the monkey, the Congolese,
+and the Creole Gaul. I compared them together, and examined them apart.
+I looked at them in a thousand different points of view, and pursued,
+untired and unsatiated, those trains of reflections which began at each
+change of tone, feature, and attitude.</p>
+
+<p>I marked the country as it successively arose before me, and found
+endless employment in examining the shape and substance of the fence,
+the barn, and the cottage, the aspect of earth and of heaven. How great
+are the pleasures of health and of mental activity!</p>
+
+<p>My chief occupation, however, related to the scenes into which I was
+about to enter. My imaginations were, of course, crude and inadequate;
+and I found an uncommon gratification in comparing realities, as they
+successively occurred, with the pictures which my wayward fancy had
+depicted.</p>
+
+<p>I will not describe my dreams. My proper task is to relate the truth.
+Neither shall I dwell upon the images suggested by the condition of the
+country through which I passed. I will confine myself to mentioning the
+transactions connected with the purpose of my journey.</p>
+
+<p>I reached Baltimore at night. I was not so fatigued but that I could
+ramble through the town. I intended, at present, merely the
+gratification of a stranger's curiosity. My visit to Mrs. Watson and her
+brother I designed should take place on the morrow. The evening of my
+arrival I deemed an unseasonable time.</p>
+
+<p>While roving about, however, it occurred to me, that it might not be
+impolitic to find the way to their habitation even now. My purposes of
+general curiosity would equally be served whichever way my steps were
+bent; and to trace the path to their dwelling would save me the trouble
+of inquiries and interrogations to-morrow.</p>
+
+<p>When I looked forward to an interview with the wife of Watson, and to
+the subject which would be necessarily discussed at that interview, I
+felt a trembling and misgiving at my heart. "Surely," thought I, "it
+will become me to exercise immeasurable circumspection and address; and
+yet how little are these adapted to the impetuosity and candour of my
+nature!</p>
+
+<p>"How am I to introduce myself? What am I to tell her? That I was a sort
+of witness to the murder of her husband? That I received from the hand
+of his assassin the letter which I afterwards transmitted to her? and,
+from the same hands, the bills contained in his girdle?</p>
+
+<p>"How will she start and look aghast! What suspicions will she harbour?
+What inquiries shall be made of me? How shall they be disarmed and
+eluded, or answered? Deep consideration will be necessary before I trust
+myself to such an interview. The coming night shall be devoted to
+reflection upon this subject."</p>
+
+<p>From these thoughts I proceeded to inquiries for the street mentioned in
+the advertisement, where Mrs. Watson was said to reside. The street,
+and, at length, the habitation, was found. Having reached a station
+opposite, I paused and surveyed the mansion. It was a wooden edifice of
+two stories, humble, but neat. You ascended to the door by several stone
+steps. Of the two lower windows, the shutters of one were closed, but
+those of the other were open. Though late in the evening, there was no
+appearance of light or fire within.</p>
+
+<p>Beside the house was a painted fence, through which was a gate leading
+to the back of the building. Guided by the impulse of the moment, I
+crossed the street to the gate, and, lifting the latch, entered the
+paved alley, on one side of which was a paled fence, and on the other
+the house, looking through two windows into the alley.</p>
+
+<p>The first window was dark like those in front; but at the second a light
+was discernible. I approached it, and, looking through, beheld a plain
+but neat apartment, in which parlour, kitchen, and nursery seemed to be
+united. A fire burned cheerfully in the chimney, over which was a
+tea-kettle. On the hearth sat a smiling and playful cherub of a boy,
+tossing something to a black girl who sat opposite, and whose innocent
+and regular features wanted only a different hue to make them beautiful.
+Near it, in a rocking-chair, with a sleeping babe in her lap, sat a
+female figure in plain but neat and becoming attire. Her posture
+permitted half her face to be seen, and saved me from any danger of
+being observed.</p>
+
+<p>This countenance was full of sweetness and benignity, but the sadness
+that veiled its lustre was profound. Her eyes were now fixed upon the
+fire and were moist with the tears of remembrance, while she sung, in
+low and scarcely-audible strains, an artless lullaby.</p>
+
+<p>This spectacle exercised a strange power over my feelings. While
+occupied in meditating on the features of the mother, I was unaware of
+my conspicuous situation. The black girl, having occasion to change her
+situation, in order to reach the ball which was thrown at her, unluckily
+caught a glance of my figure through the glass. In a tone of half
+surprise and half terror, she cried out, "Oh! see dare! a man!"</p>
+
+<p>I was tempted to draw suddenly back, but a second thought showed me the
+impropriety of departing thus abruptly and leaving behind me some alarm.
+I felt a sort of necessity for apologizing for my intrusion into these
+precincts, and hastened to a door that led into the same apartment. I
+knocked. A voice somewhat confused bade me enter. It was not till I
+opened the door and entered the room, that I fully saw in what
+embarrassments I had incautiously involved myself.</p>
+
+<p>I could scarcely obtain sufficient courage to speak, and gave a confused
+assent to the question, "Have you business with me, sir?" She offered me
+a chair, and I sat down. She put the child, not yet awakened, into the
+arms of the black, who kissed it and rocked it in her arms with great
+satisfaction, and, resuming her seat, looked at me with inquisitiveness
+mingled with complacency.</p>
+
+<p>After a moment's pause, I said, "I was directed to this house as the
+abode of Mr. Ephraim Williams. Can he be seen, madam?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is not in town at present. If you will leave a message with me, I
+will punctually deliver it."</p>
+
+<p>The thought suddenly occurred, whether any more was needful than merely
+to leave the bills suitably enclosed, as they already were, in a packet.
+Thus all painful explanations might be avoided, and I might have reason
+to congratulate myself on his seasonable absence. Actuated by these
+thoughts, I drew forth the packet, and put it into her hand, saying, "I
+will leave this in your possession, and must earnestly request you to
+keep it safe until you can deliver it into his own hands."</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had I said this before new suggestions occurred. Was it right
+to act in this clandestine and mysterious manner? Should I leave these
+persons in uncertainty respecting the fate of a husband and a brother?
+What perplexities, misunderstandings, and suspenses might not grow out
+of this uncertainty? and ought they not to be precluded at any hazard to
+my own safety or good name?</p>
+
+<p>These sentiments made me involuntarily stretch forth my hand to retake
+the packet. This gesture, and other significances in my manners, joined
+to a trembling consciousness in herself, filled my companion with all
+the tokens of confusion and fear. She alternately looked at me and at
+the paper. Her trepidation increased, and she grew pale. These emotions
+were counteracted by a strong effort.</p>
+
+<p>At length she said, falteringly, "I will take good care of them, and
+will give them to my brother."</p>
+
+<p>She rose and placed them in a drawer, after which she resumed her seat.</p>
+
+<p>On this occasion all my wariness forsook me. I cannot explain why my
+perplexity and the trouble of my thoughts were greater upon this than
+upon similar occasions. However it be, I was incapable of speaking, and
+fixed my eyes upon the floor. A sort of electrical sympathy pervaded my
+companion, and terror and anguish were strongly manifested in the
+glances which she sometimes stole at me. We seemed fully to understand
+each other without the aid of words.</p>
+
+<p>This imbecility could not last long. I gradually recovered my composure,
+and collected my scattered thoughts. I looked at her with seriousness,
+and steadfastly spoke:&mdash;"Are you the wife of Amos Watson?"</p>
+
+<p>She started:&mdash;"I am indeed. Why do you ask? Do you know any thing
+of&mdash;&mdash;?" There her voice failed.</p>
+
+<p>I replied with quickness, "Yes. I am fully acquainted with his destiny."</p>
+
+<p>"Good God!" she exclaimed, in a paroxysm of surprise, and bending
+eagerly forward, "my husband is then alive! This packet is from him.
+Where is he? When have you seen him?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis a long time since."</p>
+
+<p>"But where, where is he now? Is he well? Will he return to me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never."</p>
+
+<p>"Merciful Heaven!" (looking upwards and clasping her hands,) "I thank
+thee at least for his life! But why has he forsaken me? Why will he not
+return?"</p>
+
+<p>"For a good reason," said I, with augmented solemnity, "he will never
+return to thee. Long ago was he laid in the cold grave."</p>
+
+<p>She shrieked; and, at the next moment, sunk in a swoon upon the floor. I
+was alarmed. The two children shrieked, and ran about the room terrified
+and unknowing what they did. I was overwhelmed with somewhat like
+terror, yet I involuntarily raised the mother in my arms, and cast about
+for the means of recalling her from this fit.</p>
+
+<p>Time to effect this had not elapsed, when several persons, apparently
+Mrs. Watson's neighbours, and raised by the outcries of the girls,
+hastily entered the room. They looked at me with mingled surprise and
+suspicion; but my attitude, being not that of an injurer but helper; my
+countenance, which showed the pleasure their entrance, at this critical
+moment, afforded me; and my words, in which I besought their assistance,
+and explained, in some degree, and briefly, the cause of those
+appearances, removed their ill thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, the unhappy woman, being carried by the new-comers into a
+bedroom adjoining, recovered her sensibility. I only waited for this. I
+had done my part. More information would be useless to her, and not to
+be given by me, at least in the present audience, without embarrassment
+and peril. I suddenly determined to withdraw, and this, the attention of
+the company being otherwise engaged, I did without notice. I returned to
+my inn, and shut myself up in my chamber. Such was the change which,
+undesigned, unforeseen, half an hour had wrought in my situation. My
+cautious projects had perished in their conception. That which I had
+deemed so arduous, to require such circumspect approaches, such
+well-concerted speeches, was done.</p>
+
+<p>I had started up before this woman as if from the pores of the ground. I
+had vanished with the same celerity, but had left her in possession of
+proofs sufficient that I was neither spectre nor demon. "I will visit
+her," said I, "again. I will see her brother, and know the full effect
+of my disclosure. I will tell them all that I myself know. Ignorance
+would be no less injurious to them than to myself; but, first, I will
+see the Maurices."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLI.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Next morning I arose betimes, and equipped myself without delay. I had
+eight or ten miles to walk, so far from the town being the residence of
+these people; and I forthwith repaired to their dwelling. The persons
+whom I desired to see were known to me only by name, and by their place
+of abode. It was a mother and her three daughters to whom I now carried
+the means not only of competence but riches; means which they, no doubt,
+had long ago despaired of regaining, and which, among all possible
+messengers, one of my age and guise would be the least suspected of
+being able to restore.</p>
+
+<p>I arrived, through intricate ways, at eleven o'clock, at the house of
+Mrs. Maurice. It was a neat dwelling, in a very fanciful and rustic
+style, in the bosom of a valley, which, when decorated by the verdure
+and blossoms of the coming season, must possess many charms. At present
+it was naked and dreary.</p>
+
+<p>As I approached it, through a long avenue, I observed two female
+figures, walking arm-in-arm and slowly to and fro, in the path in which
+I now was. "These," said I, "are daughters of the family. Graceful,
+well-dressed, fashionable girls they seem at this distance. May they be
+deserving of the good tidings which I bring!" Seeing them turn towards
+the house, I mended my pace, that I might overtake them and request
+their introduction of me to their mother.</p>
+
+<p>As I more nearly approached, they again turned; and, perceiving me, they
+stood as if in expectation of my message. I went up to them.</p>
+
+<p>A single glance, cast at each, made me suspect that they were not
+sisters; but, somewhat to my disappointment, there was nothing highly
+prepossessing in the countenance of either. They were what is every day
+met with, though less embellished by brilliant drapery and turban, in
+markets and streets. An air somewhat haughty, somewhat supercilious,
+lessened still more their attractions. These defects, however, were
+nothing to me.</p>
+
+<p>I inquired, of her that seemed to be the elder of the two, for Mrs.
+Maurice.</p>
+
+<p>"She is indisposed," was the cold reply.</p>
+
+<p>"That is unfortunate. Is it not possible to see her?"</p>
+
+<p>"No;" with still more gravity.</p>
+
+<p>I was somewhat at a loss how to proceed. A pause ensued. At length the
+same lady resumed, "What's your business? You can leave your message
+with me."</p>
+
+<p>"With nobody but her. If she be not <i>very</i> indisposed&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"She is very indisposed," interrupted she, peevishly. "If you cannot
+leave your message, you may take it back again, for she must not be
+disturbed."</p>
+
+<p>This was a singular reception. I was disconcerted and silent. I knew not
+what to say. "Perhaps," I at last observed, "some other time&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No," (with increasing heat,) "no other time. She is more likely to be
+worse than better. Come, Betsy," said she, taking hold of her
+companion's arm; and, hieing into the house, shut the door after her,
+and disappeared. I stood, at the bottom of the steps, confounded at such
+strange and unexpected treatment. I could not withdraw till my purpose
+was accomplished. After a moment's pause, I stepped to the door, and
+pulled the bell. A negro came, of a very unpropitious aspect, and,
+opening the door, looked at me in silence. To my question, Was Mrs.
+Maurice to be seen? he made some answer, in a jargon which I could not
+understand; but his words were immediately followed by an unseen person
+within the house:&mdash;"Mrs. Maurice can't be seen by anybody. Come in,
+Cato, and shut the door." This injunction was obeyed by Cato without
+ceremony.</p>
+
+<p>Here was a dilemma! I came with ten thousand pounds in my hands, to
+bestow freely on these people, and such was the treatment I received. "I
+must adopt," said I, "a new mode."</p>
+
+<p>I lifted the latch, without a second warning, and, Cato having
+disappeared, went into a room, the door of which chanced to be open, on
+my right hand. I found within the two females whom I had accosted in the
+portico. I now addressed myself to the younger:&mdash;"This intrusion, when I
+have explained the reason of it, will, I hope, be forgiven. I come,
+madam&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," interrupted the other, with a countenance suffused by
+indignation, "I know very well whom you come from, and what it is that
+prompts this insolence; but your employer shall see that we have not
+sunk so low as he imagines. Cato! Bob! I say."</p>
+
+<p>"My employer, madam! I see you labour under some great mistake. I have
+no employer. I come from a great distance. I come to bring intelligence
+of the utmost importance to your family. I come to benefit and not to
+injure you."</p>
+
+<p>By this time, Bob and Cato, two sturdy blacks, entered the room. "Turn
+this person," said the imperious lady, regardless of my explanations,
+"out of the house. Don't you hear me?" she continued, observing that
+they looked one upon the other and hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely, madam," said I, "you are precipitate. You are treating like an
+enemy one who will prove himself your mother's best friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you leave the house?" she exclaimed, quite beside herself with
+anger. "Villains! why don't you do as I bid you?"</p>
+
+<p>The blacks looked upon each other, as if waiting for an example. Their
+habitual deference for every thing <i>white</i>, no doubt, held their hands
+from what they regarded as a profanation. At last Bob said, in a
+whining, beseeching tone, "Why, missee, massa buckra wanna go for doo,
+dan he winna go fo' wee."</p>
+
+<p>The lady now burst into tears of rage. She held out her hand,
+menacingly. "Will you leave the house?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not willingly," said I, in a mild tone. "I came too far to return with
+the business that brought me unperformed. I am persuaded, madam, you
+mistake my character and my views. I have a message to deliver your
+mother which deeply concerns her and your happiness, if you are her
+daughter. I merely wished to see her, and leave with her a piece of
+important news; news in which her fortune is deeply interested."</p>
+
+<p>These words had a wonderful effect upon the young lady. Her anger was
+checked. "Good God!" she exclaimed, "are you Watson?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I am only Watson's representative, and come to do all that Watson
+could do if he were present."</p>
+
+<p>She was now importunate to know my business.</p>
+
+<p>"My business lies with Mrs. Maurice. Advertisements, which I have seen,
+direct me to her, and to this house; and to her only shall I deliver my
+message."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps," said she, with a face of apology, "I have mistaken you. Mrs.
+Maurice is my mother. She is really indisposed, but I can stand in her
+place on this occasion."</p>
+
+<p>"You cannot represent her in this instance. If I cannot have access to
+her now, I must go; and shall return when you are willing to grant it."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," replied she, "she is not, perhaps, so very sick but that I will
+go, and see if she will admit you." So saying, she left me for three
+minutes; and, returning, said her mother wished to see me.</p>
+
+<p>I followed up-stairs, at her request; and, entering an ill-furnished
+chamber, found, seated in an arm-chair, a lady seemingly in years, pale,
+and visibly infirm. The lines of her countenance were far from laying
+claim to my reverence. It was too much like the daughter's.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at me, at my entrance, with great eagerness, and said, in a
+sharp tone, "Pray, friend, what is it you want with me? Make haste; tell
+your story, and begone."</p>
+
+<p>"My story is a short one, and easily told. Amos Watson was your agent in
+Jamaica. He sold an estate belonging to you, and received the money."</p>
+
+<p>"He did," said she, attempting ineffectually to rise from her seat, and
+her eyes beaming with a significance that shocked me; "he did, the
+villain, and purloined the money, to the ruin of me and my daughters.
+But if there be justice on earth it will overtake him. I trust I shall
+have the pleasure one day&mdash;I hope to hear he's hanged. Well, but go on,
+friend. He <i>did</i> sell it, I tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"He sold it for ten thousand pounds," I resumed, "and invested this sum
+in bills of exchange. Watson is dead. These bills came into my hands. I
+was lately informed, by the public papers, who were the real owners, and
+have come from Philadelphia with no other view than to restore them to
+you. There they are," continued I, placing them in her lap, entire and
+untouched.</p>
+
+<p>She seized the papers, and looked at me and at her daughter, by turns,
+with an air of one suddenly bewildered. She seemed speechless, and,
+growing suddenly more ghastly pale, leaned her head back upon the chair.
+The daughter screamed, and hastened to support the languid parent, who
+difficultly articulated, "Oh, I am sick; sick to death. Put me on the
+bed."</p>
+
+<p>I was astonished and affrighted at this scene. Some of the domestics, of
+both colours, entered, and gazed at me with surprise. Involuntarily I
+withdrew, and returned to the room below, into which I had first
+entered, and which I now found deserted.</p>
+
+<p>I was for some time at a loss to guess at the cause of these
+appearances. At length it occurred to me, that joy was the source of the
+sickness that had seized Mrs. Maurice. The abrupt recovery of what had
+probably been deemed irretrievable would naturally produce this effect
+upon a mind of a certain texture.</p>
+
+<p>I was deliberating whether to stay or go, when the daughter entered the
+room, and, after expressing some surprise at seeing me, whom she
+supposed to have retired, told me that her mother wished to see me again
+before my departure. In this request there was no kindness. All was
+cold, supercilious, and sullen. I obeyed the summons without speaking.</p>
+
+<p>I found Mrs. Maurice seated in her arm-chair, much in her former guise.
+Without desiring me to be seated, or relaxing aught in her asperity of
+looks and tones,&mdash;"Pray, friend, how did you <i>come by</i> these papers?"</p>
+
+<p>"I assure you, madam, they were honestly <i>come by</i>," answered I,
+sedately and with half a smile; "but, if the whole is there that was
+missing, the mode and time in which they came to me is matter of
+concern only to myself. Is there any deficiency?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not sure. I don't know much of these matters. There may be less. I
+dare say there is. I shall know that soon. I expect a friend of mine
+every minute who will look them over. I don't doubt you can give a good
+account of yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"I doubt not but I can&mdash;to those who have a right to demand it. In this
+case, curiosity must be very urgent indeed before I shall consent to
+gratify it."</p>
+
+<p>"You must know this is a suspicious case. Watson, to-be-sure, embezzled
+the money; to-be-sure, you are his accomplice."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," said I, "my conduct, on this occasion, proves that. What I
+have brought to you, of my own accord; what I have restored to you,
+fully and unconditionally, it is plain Watson embezzled, and that I was
+aiding in the fraud. To restore what was never stolen always betrays the
+thief. To give what might be kept without suspicion is, without doubt,
+arrant knavery. To be serious, madam, in coming thus far, for this
+purpose, I have done enough; and must now bid you farewell."</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, don't go yet. I have something more to say to you. My friend, I'm
+sure, will be here presently. There he is;" (noticing a peal upon the
+bell.) "Polly, go down, and see if that's Mr. Somers. If it is, bring
+him up." The daughter went.</p>
+
+<p>I walked to the window absorbed in my own reflections. I was
+disappointed and dejected. The scene before me was the unpleasing
+reverse of all that my fancy, while coming hither, had foreboded. I
+expected to find virtuous indigence and sorrow lifted, by my means, to
+affluence and exultation. I expected to witness the tears of gratitude
+and the caresses of affection. What had I found? Nothing but sordidness,
+stupidity, and illiberal suspicion.</p>
+
+<p>The daughter stayed much longer than the mother's patience could endure.
+She knocked against the floor with her heel. A servant came up. "Where's
+Polly, you slut? It was not you, hussy, that I wanted. It was her."</p>
+
+<p>"She is talking in the parlour with a gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Somers, I suppose; hey, fool? Run with my compliments to him,
+wench. Tell him, please walk up."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not Mr. Somers, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>"No? Who then, saucebox? What gentleman can have any thing to do with
+Polly?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>"Who said you did, impertinence? Run, and tell her I want her this
+instant."</p>
+
+<p>The summons was not delivered, or Polly did not think proper to obey it.
+Full ten minutes of thoughtful silence on my part, and of muttered
+vexation and impatience on that of the old lady, elapsed before Polly's
+entrance. As soon as she appeared, the mother began to complain bitterly
+of her inattention and neglect; but Polly, taking no notice of her,
+addressed herself to me, and told me that a gentleman below wished to
+see me. I hastened down, and found a stranger, of a plain appearance, in
+the parlour. His aspect was liberal and ingenuous; and I quickly
+collected, from his discourse, that this was the brother-in-law of
+Watson, and the companion of his last voyage.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>My eyes sparkled with pleasure at this unexpected interview, and I
+willingly confessed my desire to communicate all the knowledge of his
+brother's destiny which I possessed. He told me, that, returning late to
+Baltimore, on the last evening, he found his sister in much agitation
+and distress, which, after a time, she explained to him. She likewise
+put the packets I had left into his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"I leave you to imagine," continued he, "my surprise and curiosity at
+this discovery. I was, of course, impatient to see the bearer of such
+extraordinary tidings. This morning, inquiring for one of your
+appearance at the taverns, I was, at length, informed of your arrival
+yesterday in the stage; of your going out alone in the evening; of your
+subsequent return; and of your early departure this morning.
+Accidentally I lighted on your footsteps; and, by suitable inquiries on
+the road, have finally traced you hither.</p>
+
+<p>"You told my sister her husband was dead. You left with her papers that
+were probably in his possession at the time of his death. I understand
+from Miss Maurice that the bills belonging to her mother have just been
+delivered to her. I presume you have no objection to clear up this
+mystery."</p>
+
+<p>"To you I am anxious to unfold every thing. At this moment, or at any
+time, but the sooner the more agreeable to me, I will do it."</p>
+
+<p>"This," said he, looking around him, "is no place; there is an inn, not
+a hundred yards from this gate, where I have left my horse; will you go
+thither?" I readily consented, and, calling for a private apartment, I
+laid before this man every incident of my life connected with Welbeck
+and Watson; my full, circumstantial, and explicit story appeared to
+remove every doubt which he might have entertained of my integrity.</p>
+
+<p>In Williams I found a plain, good man, of a temper confiding and
+affectionate. My narration being finished, he expressed, by unaffected
+tokens, his wonder and his grief on account of Watson's destiny. To my
+inquiries, which were made with frankness and fervour, respecting his
+own and his sister's condition, he said that the situation of both was
+deplorable till the recovery of this property. They had been saved from
+utter ruin, from beggary and a jail, only by the generosity and lenity
+of his creditors, who did not suffer the suspicious circumstances
+attending Watson's disappearance to outweigh former proofs of his
+probity. They had never relinquished the hopes of receiving some tidings
+of their kinsman.</p>
+
+<p>I related what had just passed in the house of Mrs. Maurice, and
+requested to know from him the history and character of this family.</p>
+
+<p>"They have treated you," he answered, "exactly as any one who knew them
+would have predicted. The mother is narrow, ignorant, bigoted, and
+avaricious. The eldest daughter, whom you saw, resembles the old lady in
+many things. Age, indeed, may render the similitude complete. At
+present, pride and ill-humour are her chief characteristics.</p>
+
+<p>"The youngest daughter has nothing in mind or person in common with her
+family. Where they are irascible, she is patient; where they are
+imperious, she is humble; where they are covetous, she is liberal; where
+they are ignorant and indolent, she is studious and skilful. It is rare,
+indeed, to find a young lady more amiable than Miss Fanny Maurice, or
+who has had more crosses and afflictions to sustain.</p>
+
+<p>"The eldest daughter always extorted the supply of her wants, from her
+parents, by threats and importunities; but the younger could never be
+prevailed upon to employ the same means, and, hence, she suffered
+inconveniences which, to any other girl, born to an equal rank, would
+have been, to the last degree, humiliating and vexatious. To her they
+only afforded new opportunities for the display of her most shining
+virtues,&mdash;fortitude and charity. No instance of their sordidness or
+tyranny ever stole a murmur from her. For what they had given, existence
+and a virtuous education, she said they were entitled to gratitude. What
+they withheld was their own, in the use of which they were not
+accountable to her. She was not ashamed to owe her subsistence to her
+own industry, and was only held by the pride of her family&mdash;in this
+instance their pride was equal to their avarice&mdash;from seeking out some
+lucrative kind of employment. Since the shock which their fortune
+sustained by Watson's disappearance, she has been permitted to pursue
+this plan, and she now teaches music in Baltimore for a living. No one,
+however, in the highest rank, can be more generally respected and
+caressed than she is."</p>
+
+<p>"But will not the recovery of this money make a favourable change in her
+condition?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can hardly tell; but I am inclined to think it will not. It will not
+change her mother's character. Her pride may be awakened anew, and she
+may oblige Miss Fanny to relinquish her new profession, and that will be
+a change to be deplored."</p>
+
+<p>"What good has been done, then, by restoring this money?"</p>
+
+<p>"If pleasure be good, you must have conferred a great deal on the
+Maurices; upon the mother and two of the daughters, at least,&mdash;the only
+pleasure, indeed, which their natures can receive. It is less than if
+you had raised them from absolute indigence, which has not been the
+case, since they had wherewithal to live upon besides their Jamaica
+property. But how?" continued Williams, suddenly recollecting himself;
+"have you claimed the reward promised to him who should restore these
+bills?"</p>
+
+<p>"What reward?"</p>
+
+<p>"No less than a thousand dollars. It was publicly promised under the
+hands of Mrs. Maurice and of Hemmings, her husband's executor."</p>
+
+<p>"Really," said I, "that circumstance escaped my attention, and I wonder
+that it did; but is it too late to repair the evil?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you have no scruple to accept the reward?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not. Could you suspect me of so strange a punctilio as that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but I know not why. The story you have just finished taught me to
+expect some unreasonable refinement upon that head. To be hired, to be
+bribed, to do our duty is supposed by some to be degrading."</p>
+
+<p>"This is no such bribe to me. I should have acted just as I have done,
+had no recompense been promised. In truth, this has been my conduct, for
+I never once thought of the reward; but, now that you remind me of it, I
+would gladly see it bestowed. To fulfil their engagements, in this
+respect, is no more than justice in the Maurices. To one in my condition
+the money will be highly useful. If these people were poor, or generous
+and worthy, or if I myself were already rich, I might less repine at
+their withholding it; but, things being as they are with them and with
+me, it would, I think, be gross injustice in them to withhold, and in me
+to refuse."</p>
+
+<p>"That injustice," said Williams, "will, on their part, I fear, be
+committed. 'Tis pity you first applied to Mrs. Maurice. Nothing can be
+expected from her avarice, unless it be wrested from her by a lawsuit."</p>
+
+<p>"That is a force which I shall never apply."</p>
+
+<p>"Had you gone first to Hemmings, you might, I think, have looked for
+payment. He is not a mean man. A thousand dollars, he must know, is not
+much to give for forty thousand. Perhaps, indeed, it may not yet be too
+late. I am well known to him, and, if you please, will attend you to him
+in the evening, and state your claim."</p>
+
+<p>I thankfully accepted this offer, and went with him accordingly. I found
+that Hemmings had been with Mrs. Maurice in the course of the day; had
+received from her intelligence of this transaction, and had entertained
+the expectation of a visit from me for this very purpose.</p>
+
+<p>While Williams explained to him the nature of my claim, he scanned me
+with great intentness. His austere and inflexible brow afforded me
+little room to hope for success, and this hopelessness was confirmed by
+his silence and perplexity when Williams had made an end.</p>
+
+<p>"To-be-sure," said he, after some pause, "the contract was explicit.
+To-be-sure, the conditions on Mr. Mervyn's side have been performed.
+Certain it is, the bills are entire and complete, but Mrs. Maurice will
+not consent to do her part, and Mrs. Maurice, to whom the papers were
+presented, is the person by whom, according to the terms of the
+contract, the reward must be paid."</p>
+
+<p>"But Mrs. Maurice, you know, sir, may be legally compelled to pay," said
+Williams.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps she may; but I tell you plainly, that she never will do the
+thing without compulsion. Legal process, however, in this case, will
+have other inconveniences besides delay. Some curiosity will naturally
+be excited, as to the history of these papers. Watson disappeared a
+twelvemonth ago. Who can avoid asking, Where have these papers been
+deposited all this while, and how came this person in possession of
+them?"</p>
+
+<p>"That kind of curiosity," said I, "is natural and laudable, and gladly
+would I gratify it. Disclosure or concealment in that case, however,
+would nowise affect my present claim. Whether a bond, legally executed,
+shall be paid, does not depend upon determining whether the payer is
+fondest of boiled mutton or roast beef. Truth, in the first case, has no
+connection with truth in the second. So far from eluding this curiosity,
+so far from studying concealment, I am anxious to publish the truth."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right, to-be-sure," said Hemmings. "Curiosity is a natural, but
+only an incidental, consequence in this case. I have no reason for
+desiring that it should be an unpleasant consequence to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir," said Williams, "you think that Arthur Mervyn has no remedy
+in this case but the law?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Maurice, to-be-sure, will never pay but on compulsion. Mervyn
+should have known his own interest better. While his left hand was
+stretched out to give, his right should have been held forth to receive.
+As it is, he must be contented with the aid of law. Any attorney will
+prosecute on condition of receiving <i>half the sum</i> when recovered."</p>
+
+<p>We now rose to take our leave, when Hemmings, desiring us to pause a
+moment, said, "To-be-sure, in the utmost strictness of the terms of our
+promise, the reward was to be paid by the person who received the
+papers; but it must be owned that your claim, at any rate, is
+equitable. I have money of the deceased Mr. Maurice in my hands. These
+very bills are now in my possession. I will therefore pay you your due,
+and take the consequences of an act of justice on myself. I was prepared
+for you. Sign that receipt, and there is a <i>check</i> for the amount."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLIII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>This unexpected and agreeable decision was accompanied by an invitation
+to supper, at which we were treated by our host with much affability and
+kindness. Finding me the author of Williams's good fortune as well as
+Mrs. Maurice's, and being assured by the former of his entire conviction
+of the rectitude of my conduct, he laid aside all reserve and distance
+with regard to me. He inquired into my prospects and wishes, and
+professed his willingness to serve me.</p>
+
+<p>I dealt with equal unreserve and frankness. "I am poor," said I. "Money
+for my very expenses hither I have borrowed from a friend, to whom I am,
+in other respects, much indebted, and whom I expect to compensate only
+by gratitude and future services.</p>
+
+<p>"In coming hither, I expected only an increase of my debts; to sink
+still deeper into poverty; but happily the issue has made me rich. This
+hour has given me competence, at least."</p>
+
+<p>"What! call you a thousand dollars competence?"</p>
+
+<p>"More than competence. I call it an abundance. My own ingenuity, while I
+enjoy health, will enable me to live. This I regard as a fund, first to
+pay my debts, and next to supply deficiencies occasioned by untoward
+accidents or ill health, during the ensuing three or four years at
+least."</p>
+
+<p>We parted with this new acquaintance at a late hour, and I accepted
+Williams's invitation to pass the time I should spend at Baltimore,
+under his sister's roof. There were several motives for prolonging this
+stay. What I had heard of Miss Fanny Maurice excited strong wishes to be
+personally acquainted with her. This young lady was affectionately
+attached to Mrs. Watson, by whose means my wishes were easily
+accomplished.</p>
+
+<p>I never was in habits of reserve, even with those whom I had no reason
+to esteem. With those who claimed my admiration and affection, it was
+impossible to be incommunicative. Before the end of my second interview,
+both these women were mistresses of every momentous incident of my life,
+and of the whole chain of my feelings and opinions, in relation to every
+subject, and particularly in relation to themselves. Every topic
+disconnected with these is comparatively lifeless and inert.</p>
+
+<p>I found it easy to win their attention, and to render them communicative
+in their turn. As full disclosures as I had made without condition or
+request, my inquiries and example easily obtained from Mrs. Watson and
+Miss Maurice. The former related every event of her youth, and the
+circumstances leading to her marriage. She depicted the character of her
+husband, and the whole train of suspenses and inquietudes occasioned by
+his disappearance. The latter did not hide from me her opinions upon any
+important subject, and made me thoroughly acquainted with her actual
+situation.</p>
+
+<p>This intercourse was strangely fascinating. My heart was buoyed up by a
+kind of intoxication. I now found myself exalted to my genial element,
+and began to taste the delights of existence. In the intercourse of
+ingenuous and sympathetic minds, I found a pleasure which I had not
+previously conceived.</p>
+
+<p>The time flew swiftly away, and a fortnight passed almost before I was
+aware that a day had gone by. I did not forget the friends whom I had
+left behind, but maintained a punctual correspondence with Stevens, to
+whom I imparted all occurrences.</p>
+
+<p>The recovery of my friend's kinsman allowed him in a few days to return
+home. His first object was the consolation and relief of Carlton, whom,
+with much difficulty, he persuaded to take advantage of the laws in
+favour of insolvent debtors. Carlton's only debt was owing to his uncle,
+and, by rendering up every species of property, except his clothes and
+the implements of his trade, he obtained a full discharge. In
+conjunction with his sister, he once more assumed the pen, and, being
+no longer burdened with debts he was unable to discharge, he resumed,
+together with his pen, his cheerfulness. Their mutual industry was
+sufficient for their decent and moderate subsistence.</p>
+
+<p>The chief reason for my hasty return was my anxiety respecting Clemenza
+Lodi. This reason was removed by the activity and benevolence of my
+friend. He paid this unfortunate stranger a visit at Mrs. Villars's.
+Access was easily obtained, and he found her sunk into the deepest
+melancholy. The recent loss of her child, the death of Welbeck, of which
+she was soon apprized, her total dependence upon those with whom she was
+placed, who, however, had always treated her without barbarity or
+indecorum, were the calamities that weighed down her spirits.</p>
+
+<p>My friend easily engaged her confidence and gratitude, and prevailed
+upon her to take refuge under his own roof. Mrs. Wentworth's scruples,
+as well as those of Mrs. Fielding, were removed by his arguments and
+entreaties, and they consented to take upon themselves, and divide
+between them, the care of her subsistence and happiness. They
+condescended to express much curiosity respecting me, and some interest
+in my welfare, and promised to receive me, on my return, on the footing
+of a friend.</p>
+
+<p>With some reluctance, I at length bade my new friends farewell, and
+returned to Philadelphia. Nothing remained, before I should enter on my
+projected scheme of study and employment, under the guidance of Stevens,
+but to examine the situation of Eliza Hadwin with my own eyes, and, if
+possible, to extricate my father from his unfortunate situation.</p>
+
+<p>My father's state had given me the deepest concern. I figured to myself
+his condition, besotted by brutal appetites, reduced to beggary, shut up
+in a noisome prison, and condemned to that society which must foster all
+his depraved propensities. I revolved various schemes for his relief. A
+few hundreds would take him from prison; but how should he be afterwards
+disposed of? How should he be cured of his indolent habits? How should
+he be screened from the contagion of vicious society? By what means,
+consistently with my own wants and the claims of others, should I
+secure to him an acceptable subsistence?</p>
+
+<p>Exhortation and example were vain. Nothing but restraint would keep him
+at a distance from the haunts of brawling and debauchery. The want of
+money would be no obstacle to prodigality and waste. Credit would be
+resorted to as long as it would answer his demand. When that failed, he
+would once more be thrown into a prison; the same means to extricate him
+would have to be repeated, and money be thus put into the pockets of the
+most worthless of mankind, the agents of drunkenness and blasphemy,
+without any permanent advantage to my father, the principal object of my
+charity.</p>
+
+<p>Though unable to fix on any plausible mode of proceeding, I determined,
+at least, to discover his present condition. Perhaps something might
+suggest itself, upon the spot, suited to my purpose. Without delay I
+proceeded to the village of Newtown, and, alighting at the door of the
+prison, inquired for my father.</p>
+
+<p>"Sawny Mervyn you want, I suppose," said the keeper. "Poor fellow! He
+came into limbo in a crazy condition, and has been a burden on my hands
+ever since. After lingering along for some time, he was at last kind
+enough to give us the slip. It is just a week since he drank his last
+pint&mdash;and <i>died</i>."</p>
+
+<p>I was greatly shocked at this intelligence. It was some time before my
+reason came to my aid, and showed me that this was an event, on the
+whole, and on a disinterested and dispassionate view, not unfortunate.
+The keeper knew not my relation to the deceased, and readily recounted
+the behaviour of the prisoner and the circumstances of his last hours.</p>
+
+<p>I shall not repeat the narrative. It is useless to keep alive the sad
+remembrance. He was now beyond the reach of my charity or pity; and,
+since reflection could answer no beneficial end to him, it was my duty
+to divert my thoughts into different channels, and live henceforth for
+my own happiness and that of those who were within the sphere of my
+influence.</p>
+
+<p>I was now alone in the world, so far as the total want of kindred
+creates solitude. Not one of my blood, nor even of my name, was to be
+found in this quarter of the world. Of my mother's kindred I knew
+nothing. So far as friendship or service might be claimed from them, to
+me they had no existence. I was destitute of all those benefits which
+flow from kindred, in relation to protection, advice, or property. My
+inheritance was nothing. Not a single relic or trinket in my possession
+constituted a memorial of my family. The scenes of my childish and
+juvenile days were dreary and desolate. The fields which I was wont to
+traverse, the room in which I was born, retained no traces of the past.
+They were the property and residence of strangers, who knew nothing of
+the former tenants, and who, as I was now told, had hastened to
+new-model and transform every thing within and without the habitation.</p>
+
+<p>These images filled me with melancholy, which, however, disappeared in
+proportion as I approached the abode of my beloved girl. Absence had
+endeared the image of my <i>Bess</i>&mdash;I loved to call her so&mdash;to my soul. I
+could not think of her without a melting softness at my heart, and tears
+in which pain and pleasure were unaccountably mingled. As I approached
+Curling's house, I strained my sight, in hopes of distinguishing her
+form through the evening dusk.</p>
+
+<p>I had told her of my purpose, by letter. She expected my approach at
+this hour, and was stationed, with a heart throbbing with impatience, at
+the roadside, near the gate. As soon as I alighted, she rushed into my
+arms.</p>
+
+<p>I found my sweet friend less blithesome and contented than I wished. Her
+situation, in spite of the parental and sisterly regards which she
+received from the Curlings, was mournful and dreary to her imagination.
+Rural business was irksome, and insufficient to fill up her time. Her
+life was tiresome, and uniform, and heavy.</p>
+
+<p>I ventured to blame her discontent, and pointed out the advantages of
+her situation. "Whence," said I, "can these dissatisfactions and
+repinings arise?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell," said she; "I don't know how it is with me. I am always
+sorrowful and thoughtful. Perhaps I think too much of my poor father
+and of Susan; and yet that can't be it, neither, for I think of them but
+seldom; not half as much as I ought, perhaps. I think of nobody almost
+but you. Instead of minding my business, or chatting and laughing with
+Peggy Curling, I love to get by myself,&mdash;to read, over and over, your
+letters, or to think how you are employed just then, and how happy I
+should be if I were in Fanny Maurice's place.</p>
+
+<p>"But it is all over now; this visit rewards me for every thing. I wonder
+how I could ever be sullen or mopeful. I will behave better, indeed I
+will, and be always, as now, a most happy girl."</p>
+
+<p>The greater part of three days was spent in the society of my friend, in
+listening to her relation of all that had happened during my absence,
+and in communicating, in my turn, every incident which had befallen
+myself. After this I once more returned to the city.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLIV.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I now set about carrying my plan of life into effect. I began with
+ardent zeal and unwearied diligence the career of medical study. I
+bespoke the counsels and instructions of my friend; attended him on his
+professional visits, and acted, in all practicable cases, as his
+substitute. I found this application of time more pleasurable than I had
+imagined. My mind gladly expanded itself, as it were, for the reception
+of new ideas. My curiosity grew more eager in proportion as it was
+supplied with food, and every day added strength to the assurance that I
+was no insignificant and worthless being; that I was destined to be
+<i>something</i> in this scene of existence, and might some time lay claim to
+the gratitude and homage of my fellow men.</p>
+
+<p>I was far from being, however, monopolized by these pursuits. I was
+formed on purpose for the gratification of social intercourse. To love
+and to be loved; to exchange hearts and mingle sentiments with all the
+virtuous and amiable whom my good fortune had placed within the circuit
+of my knowledge, I always esteemed my highest enjoyment and my chief
+duty.</p>
+
+<p>Carlton and his sister, Mrs. Wentworth, and Achsa Fielding, were my most
+valuable associates beyond my own family. With all these my
+correspondence was frequent and unreserved, but chiefly with the latter.
+This lady had dignity and independence, a generous and enlightened
+spirit, beyond what her education had taught me to expect. She was
+circumspect and cautious in her deportment, and was not prompt to make
+advances, or accept them. She withheld her esteem and confidence until
+she had full proof of their being deserved.</p>
+
+<p>I am not sure that her treatment of me was fully conformable to her
+rules. My manners, indeed, as she once told me, she had never met with
+in another. Ordinary rules were so totally overlooked in my behaviour,
+that it seemed impossible for any one who knew me to adhere to them. No
+option was left but to admit my claims to friendship and confidence
+instantly, or to reject them altogether.</p>
+
+<p>I was not conscious of this singularity. The internal and undiscovered
+character of another weighed nothing with me in the question whether
+they should be treated with frankness or reserve. I felt no scruple on
+any occasion to disclose every feeling and every event. Any one who
+could listen found me willing to talk. Every talker found me willing to
+listen. Every one had my sympathy and kindness, <i>without</i> claiming it;
+but I <i>claimed</i> the kindness and sympathy of every one.</p>
+
+<p>Achsa Fielding's countenance bespoke, I thought, a mind worthy to be
+known and to be loved. The first moment I engaged her attention, I told
+her so. I related the little story of my family, spread out before her
+all my reasonings and determinations, my notions of right and wrong, my
+fears and wishes. All this was done with sincerity and fervour, with
+gestures, actions, and looks, in which I felt as if my whole soul was
+visible. Her superior age, sedateness, and prudence, gave my deportment
+a filial freedom and affection, and I was fond of calling her "<i>mamma</i>."</p>
+
+<p>I particularly dwelt upon the history of my dear country-girl; painted
+her form and countenance; recounted our dialogues, and related all my
+schemes for making her wise, and good, and happy. On these occasions my
+friend would listen to me with the mutest attention. I showed her the
+letters I received, and offered her for her perusal those which I wrote
+in answer, before they were sealed and sent.</p>
+
+<p>On these occasions she would look by turns on my face and away from me.
+A varying hue would play upon her cheek, and her eyes were fuller than
+was common, of meaning.</p>
+
+<p>"Such-and-such," I once said, "are my notions; now, what do <i>you</i>
+think?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Think</i>!" emphatically, and turning somewhat aside, she answered;
+"that you are the most&mdash;<i>strange</i> of human creatures."</p>
+
+<p>"But tell me," I resumed, following and searching her averted eyes; "am
+I right? would you do thus? Can you help me to improve my girl? I wish
+you knew the bewitching little creature. How would that heart overflow
+with affection and with gratitude towards you! She should be your
+daughter. No&mdash;you are too nearly of an age for that. A sister; her
+<i>elder</i> sister, you should be. <i>That</i>, when there is no other relation,
+includes them all. Fond sisters you would be, and I the fond brother of
+you both."</p>
+
+<p>My eyes glistened as I spoke. In truth, I am in that respect a mere
+woman. My friend was more powerfully moved. After a momentary struggle
+she burst into tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Good heaven!" said I, "what ails you? Are you not well?"</p>
+
+<p>Her looks betrayed an unaccountable confusion, from which she quickly
+recovered:&mdash;"It was folly to be thus affected. Something ailed me, I
+believe, but it is past. But, come, you want some lines of finishing the
+description of the <i>Boa</i> in La Cepide."</p>
+
+<p>"True. And I have twenty minutes to spare. Poor Franks is very ill
+indeed, but he cannot be seen till nine. We'll read till then."</p>
+
+<p>Thus on the wings of pleasure and improvement passed my time; not
+without some hues, occasionally, of a darker tint. My heart was now and
+then detected in sighing. This occurred when my thoughts glanced at the
+poor Eliza, and measured, as it were, the interval between us. "We are
+too&mdash;<i>too</i> far apart," thought I.</p>
+
+<p>The best solace on these occasions was the company of Mrs. Fielding; her
+music, her discourse, or some book which she set me to rehearsing to
+her. One evening, when preparing to pay her a visit, I received the
+following letter from my Bess:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 15em;"><i>To A. Mervyn.</i></p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;"><span class="smcap">Curling's</span>, May 6, 1794.</p>
+
+
+<p>Where does this letter you promised me stay all this while? Indeed,
+Arthur, you torment me more than I deserve, and more than I could ever
+find it in my heart to do you. You treat me cruelly. I must say so,
+though I offend you. I must write, though you do not deserve that I
+should, and though I fear I am in a humour not very fit for writing. I
+had better go to my chamber and weep; weep at your&mdash;<i>unkindness</i>, I was
+going to say; but, perhaps, it is only forgetfulness; and yet what can
+be more unkind than forgetfulness? I am sure I have never forgotten you.
+Sleep itself, which wraps all other images in forgetfulness, only brings
+you nearer, and makes me see you more distinctly.</p>
+
+<p>But where can this letter stay?&mdash;Oh! that&mdash;hush! foolish girl! If a word
+of that kind escape thy lips, Arthur will be angry with thee; and then,
+indeed, thou mightest weep in earnest. <i>Then</i> thou wouldst have some
+cause for thy tears. More than once already has he almost broken thy
+heart with his reproaches. Sore and weak as it now is, any new
+reproaches would assuredly break it quite.</p>
+
+<p>I <i>will</i> be content. I will be as good a housewife and dairywoman, stir
+about as briskly, and sing as merrily, as Peggy Curling. Why not? I am
+as young, as innocent, and enjoy as good health. Alas! she has reason to
+be merry. She has father, mother, brothers; but I have none. And he that
+was all these, and more than all these, to me, has&mdash;<i>forgotten</i> me.</p>
+
+<p>But, perhaps, it is some accident that hinders. Perhaps Oliver left the
+market earlier than he used to do; or you mistook the house; or perhaps
+some poor creature was sick, was taken suddenly ill, and you were busy
+in chafing his clay-cold limbs; it fell to you to wipe the clammy drops
+from his brow. Such things often happen (don't they, Arthur?) to people
+of your trade, and some such thing has happened now; and that was the
+reason you did not write.</p>
+
+<p>And if so, shall I repine at your silence? Oh no! At such a time the
+poor Bess might easily be, and ought to be, forgotten. She would not
+deserve your love if she could repine at a silence brought about this
+way.</p>
+
+<p>And oh! may it be so! May there be nothing worse than this! If the sick
+man&mdash;see, Arthur, how my hand trembles. Can you read this scrawl? What
+is always bad, my fears make worse than ever.</p>
+
+<p>I must not think that. And yet, if it be so, if my friend himself be
+sick, what will become of me? Of me, that ought to cherish you and
+comfort you; that ought to be your nurse. Endure for you your sickness,
+when she cannot remove it.</p>
+
+<p>Oh! that&mdash;&mdash;I <i>will</i> speak out&mdash;Oh that this strange scruple had never
+possessed you! Why should I <i>not</i> be with you? Who can love you and
+serve you as well as I? In sickness and health, I will console and
+assist you. Why will you deprive yourself of such a comforter and such
+an aid as I would be to you?</p>
+
+<p>Dear Arthur, think better of it. Let me leave this dreary spot, where,
+indeed, as long as I am thus alone, I can enjoy no comfort. Let me come
+to you. I will put up with any thing for the sake of seeing you, though
+it be but once a day. Any garret or cellar in the dirtiest lane or
+darkest alley will be good enough for me. I will think it a palace, so
+that I can <i>but</i> see you now and then.</p>
+
+<p>Do not refuse&mdash;do not argue with me, so fond you always are of arguing!
+My heart is set upon your compliance. And yet, dearly as I prize your
+company, I would not ask it, if I thought there was any thing improper.
+You say there is, and you talk about it in a way that I do not
+understand. For my sake, you tell me, you refuse; but let me entreat you
+to comply for my sake.</p>
+
+<p>Your pen cannot teach me like your tongue. You write me long letters,
+and tell me a great deal in them; but my soul droops when I call to mind
+your voice and your looks, and think how long a time must pass before I
+see you and hear you again. I have no spirit to think upon the words and
+paper before me. My eye and my thought wander far away.</p>
+
+<p>I bethink me how many questions I might ask you; how many doubts you
+might clear up if you were but within hearing. If you were but close to
+me; but I cannot ask them here. I am too poor a creature at the pen,
+and, somehow or another, it always happens, I can only write about
+myself or about you. By the time I have said all this, I have tired my
+fingers, and when I set about telling you how this poem and that story
+have affected me, I am at a loss for words; I am bewildered and bemazed,
+as it were.</p>
+
+<p>It is not so when we talk to one another. With your arm about me, and
+your sweet face close to mine, I can prattle forever. Then my heart
+overflows at my lips. After hours thus spent, it seems as if there were
+a thousand things still to be said. Then I can tell you what the book
+has told me. I can repeat scores of verses by heart, though I heard them
+only once read; but it is because <i>you</i> have read them to me.</p>
+
+<p>Then there is nobody here to answer my questions. They never look into
+books. They hate books. They think it waste of time to read. Even Peggy,
+who you say has naturally a strong mind, wonders what I can find to
+amuse myself in a book. In her playful mood, she is always teasing me to
+lay it aside.</p>
+
+<p>I do not mind her, for I like to read; but, if I did not like it before,
+I could not help doing so ever since you told me that nobody could gain
+your love who was not fond of books. And yet, though I like it on that
+account more than I did, I don't read somehow so earnestly and
+understand so well as I used to do when my mind was all at ease, always
+frolicsome, and ever upon <i>tiptoe</i>, as I may say.</p>
+
+<p>How strangely (have you not observed it?) I am altered of late!&mdash;I, that
+was ever light of heart, the very soul of gayety, brimfull of glee, am
+now demure as our old <i>tabby</i>&mdash;and not half as wise. Tabby had wit
+enough to keep her paws out of the coals, whereas poor I have&mdash;but no
+matter what. It will never come to pass, I see that. So many reasons for
+every thing! Such looking forward! Arthur, are not men sometimes too
+<i>wise</i> to be happy?</p>
+
+<p>I am now <i>so</i> grave. Not one smile can Peggy sometimes get from me,
+though she tries for it the whole day. But I know how it comes. Strange,
+indeed, if, losing father and sister, and thrown upon the wide world,
+penniless and <i>friendless</i> too, now that <i>you</i> forget me, I should
+continue to smile. No. I never shall smile again. At least, while I stay
+here, I never shall, I believe.</p>
+
+<p>If a certain somebody suffer me to live with him,&mdash;<i>near</i> him, I
+mean,&mdash;perhaps the sight of him as he enters the door, perhaps the sound
+of his voice, asking, "Where is my Bess?" might produce a smile. Such a
+one as the very thought produces now,&mdash;yet not, I hope, so transient,
+and so quickly followed by a tear. Women are born, they say, to trouble,
+and tears are given them for their relief. 'Tis all very true.</p>
+
+<p>Let it be as I wish, will you? If Oliver bring not back good tidings, if
+he bring not a letter from thee, or thy letter still refuses my
+request,&mdash;I don't know what may happen. Consent, if you love your poor
+girl.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+E.H.
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLV.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The reading of this letter, though it made me mournful, did not hinder
+me from paying the visit I intended. My friend noticed my discomposure.</p>
+
+<p>"What, Arthur! thou art quite the 'penseroso' to-night. Come, let me
+cheer thee with a song. Thou shalt have thy favourite ditty." She
+stepped to the instrument, and, with more than airy lightness, touched
+and sung:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 15em;">
+"Now knit hands and beat the ground<br />
+In a light, fantastic round,<br />
+Till the telltale sun descry<br />
+Our conceal'd solemnity."<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Her music, though blithsome and aerial, was not sufficient for the end.
+My cheerfulness would not return even at her bidding. She again noticed
+my sedateness, and inquired into the cause.</p>
+
+<p>"This girl of mine," said I, "has infected me with her own sadness.
+There is a letter I have just received." She took it and began to read.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, I placed myself before her, and fixed my eyes steadfastly
+upon her features. There is no book in which I read with more pleasure
+than the face of woman. <i>That</i> is generally more full of meaning, and of
+better meaning too, than the hard and inflexible lineaments of man; and
+<i>this</i> woman's face has no parallel.</p>
+
+<p>She read it with visible emotion. Having gone through it, she did not
+lift her eye from the paper, but continued silent, as if buried in
+thought. After some time, (for I would not interrupt the pause,) she
+addressed me thus:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"This girl seems to be very anxious to be with you."</p>
+
+<p>"As much as I am that she should be so." My friend's countenance
+betrayed some perplexity. As soon as I perceived it, I said, "Why are
+you thus grave?" Some little confusion appeared, as if she would not
+have her gravity discovered. "There again," said I, "new tokens in your
+face, my good mamma, of something which you will not mention. Yet, sooth
+to say, this is not your first perplexity. I have noticed it before, and
+wondered. It happens only when my <i>Bess</i> is introduced. Something in
+relation to her it must be, but what I cannot imagine. Why does <i>her</i>
+name, particularly, make you thoughtful, disturbed, dejected? There
+now&mdash;but I must know the reason. You don't agree with me in my notions
+of this girl, I fear, and you will not disclose your thoughts."</p>
+
+<p>By this time, she had gained her usual composure, and, without noticing
+my comments on her looks, said, "Since you are both of one mind, why
+does she not leave the country?"</p>
+
+<p>"That cannot be, I believe. Mrs. Stevens says it would be disreputable.
+I am no proficient in etiquette, and must, therefore, in affairs of this
+kind, be guided by those who are. But would to heaven I were truly her
+father or brother! Then all difficulties would be done away."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you seriously wish that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, no. I believe it would be more rational to wish that the world
+would suffer me to act the fatherly or brotherly part, without the
+relationship."</p>
+
+<p>"And is that the only part you wish to act towards this girl?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, the only part."</p>
+
+<p>"You surprise me. Have you not confessed your love for her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>do</i> love her. There is nothing upon earth more dear to me than my
+<i>Bess</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"But love is of different kinds. She was loved by her father&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Less than by me. He was a good man, but not of lively feelings.
+Besides, he had another daughter, and they shared his love between them;
+but she has no sister to share <i>my</i> love. Calamity, too, has endeared
+her to me; I am all her consolation, dependence, and hope, and nothing,
+surely, can induce me to abandon her."</p>
+
+<p>"Her reliance upon you for happiness," replied my friend, with a sigh,
+"is plain enough."</p>
+
+<p>"It is; but why that sigh? And yet I understand it. It remonstrates with
+me on my incapacity for her support. I know it well, but it is wrong to
+be cast down. I have youth, health, and spirits, and ought not to
+despair of living for my own benefit and hers; but you sigh again, and
+it is impossible to keep my courage when <i>you</i> sigh. Do tell me what you
+mean by it."</p>
+
+<p>"You partly guessed the cause. She trusts to you for happiness, but I
+somewhat suspect she trusts in vain."</p>
+
+<p>"In vain! I beseech you, tell me why you think so."</p>
+
+<p>"You say you love her: why then not make her your wife?"</p>
+
+<p>"My wife! Surely her extreme youth, and my destitute condition, will
+account for that."</p>
+
+<p>"She is fifteen; the age of delicate fervour, of inartificial love, and
+suitable enough for marriage. As to your condition, you may live more
+easily together than apart. She has no false taste or perverse desires
+to gratify. She has been trained in simple modes and habits. Besides,
+that objection can be removed another way. But are these all your
+objections?"</p>
+
+<p>"Her youth I object to, merely in connection with her mind. She is too
+little improved to be my wife. She wants that solidity of mind, that
+maturity of intelligence which ten years more may possibly give her, but
+which she cannot have at this age."</p>
+
+<p>"You are a very prudential youth: then you are willing to wait ten years
+for a wife?"</p>
+
+<p>"Does that follow? Because my Bess will not be qualified for wedlock in
+less time, does it follow that I must wait for her?"</p>
+
+<p>"I spoke on the supposition that you loved her."</p>
+
+<p>"And that is true; but love is satisfied with studying her happiness as
+her father or brother. Some years hence, perhaps in half a year, (for
+this passion, called wedded or <i>marriage-wishing</i> love, is of sudden
+growth,) my mind may change and nothing may content me but to have Bess
+for my wife. Yet I do not expect it."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you are determined against marriage with this girl?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course; until that love comes which I feel not now; but which, no
+doubt, will come, when Bess has had the benefit of five or eight years
+more, unless previously excited by another."</p>
+
+<p>"All this is strange, Arthur. I have heretofore supposed that you
+actually loved (I mean with the <i>marriage-seeking</i> passion) your
+<i>Bess</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe I once did; but it happened at a time when marriage was
+improper; in the life of her father and sister, and when I had never
+known in what female excellence consisted. Since that time my happier
+lot has cast me among women so far above Eliza Hadwin,&mdash;so far above,
+and so widely different from any thing which time is likely to make
+her,&mdash;that, I own, nothing appears more unlikely than that I shall ever
+love her."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you not a little capricious in that respect, my good friend? You
+have praised your <i>Bess</i> as rich in natural endowments; as having an
+artless purity and rectitude of mind, which somewhat supersedes the use
+of formal education; as being full of sweetness and tenderness, and in
+her person a very angel of loveliness."</p>
+
+<p>"All that is true. I never saw features and shape so delicately
+beautiful; I never knew so young a mind so quick-sighted and so firm;
+but, nevertheless, she is not the creature whom I would call my <i>wife</i>.
+My bosom-slave; counsellor; friend; the mother; the pattern; the
+tutoress of my children, must be a different creature."</p>
+
+<p>"But what are the attributes of this <i>desirable</i> which Bess wants?"</p>
+
+<p>"Every thing she wants. Age, capacity, acquirements, person, features,
+hair, complexion, all, all are different from this girl's."</p>
+
+<p>"And pray of what kind may they be?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot portray them in words&mdash;but yes, I can:&mdash;The creature whom I
+shall worship:&mdash;it sounds oddly, but, I verily believe, the sentiment
+which I shall feel for my wife will be more akin to worship than any
+thing else. I shall never love but such a creature as I now image to
+myself, and <i>such</i> a creature will deserve, or almost deserve, worship.
+But this creature, I was going to say, must be the exact counterpart, my
+good mamma&mdash;of <i>yourself</i>."</p>
+
+<p>This was said very earnestly, and with eyes and manner that fully
+expressed my earnestness; perhaps my expressions were unwittingly strong
+and emphatic, for she started and blushed, but the cause of her
+discomposure, whatever it was, was quickly removed, and she said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Bess! This will be sad news to thee!"</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven forbid!" said I; "of what moment can my opinions be to her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Strange questioner that thou art. Thou knowest that her gentle heart is
+touched with love. See how it shows itself in the tender and inimitable
+strain of this epistle. Does not this sweet ingenuousness bewitch you?"</p>
+
+<p>"It does so, and I love, beyond expression, the sweet girl; but my love
+is, in some inconceivable way, different from the passion which that
+<i>other</i> creature will produce. She is no stranger to my thoughts. I will
+impart every thought over and over to her. I question not but I shall
+make her happy without forfeiting my own."</p>
+
+<p>"Would marriage with her be a forfeiture of your happiness?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not absolutely or forever, I believe. I love her company. Her absence
+for a long time is irksome. I cannot express the delight with which I
+see and hear her. To mark her features, beaming with vivacity; playful
+in her pleasures; to hold her in my arms, and listen to her prattle,
+always musically voluble, always sweetly tender, or artlessly
+intelligent&mdash;and this you will say is the dearest privilege of marriage;
+and so it is; and dearly should I prize it; and yet, I fear my heart
+would droop as often as that <i>other</i> image should occur to my fancy. For
+then, you know, it would occur as something never to be possessed by me.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, this image might, indeed, seldom occur. The intervals, at least,
+would be serene. It would be my interest to prolong these intervals as
+much as possible, and my endeavours to this end would, no doubt, have
+some effect. Besides, the bitterness of this reflection would be
+lessened by contemplating, at the same time, the happiness of my beloved
+girl.</p>
+
+<p>"I should likewise have to remember, that to continue unmarried would
+not necessarily secure me the possession of the <i>other</i> good&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But these reflections, my friend," (broke she in upon me,) "are of as
+much force to induce you to marry, as to reconcile you to a marriage
+already contracted."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps they are. Assuredly, I have not a hope that the <i>fancied</i>
+excellence will ever be mine. Such happiness is not the lot of humanity,
+and is, least of all, within my reach."</p>
+
+<p>"Your diffidence," replied my friend, in a timorous accent, "has not
+many examples; but your character, without doubt, is all your own,
+possessing all and disclaiming all,&mdash;is, in few words, your picture."</p>
+
+<p>"I scarcely understand you. Do you think I ever shall be happy to that
+degree which I have imagined? Think you I shall ever meet with an exact
+copy of <i>yourself</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"Unfortunate you will be, if you do not meet with many better. Your
+Bess, in personals, is, beyond measure, <i>my</i> superior, and in mind,
+allowing for difference in years, quite as much so."</p>
+
+<p>"But that," returned I, with quickness and fervour, "is not the object.
+The very counterpart of <i>you</i> I want; neither worse nor better, nor
+different in any thing. Just such form, such features, such hues. Just
+that melting voice, and, above all, the same habits of thinking and
+conversing. In thought, word, and deed; gesture, look, and form, that
+rare and precious creature whom I shall love must be your resemblance.
+Your&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Have done with these comparisons," interrupted she, in some hurry, "and
+let us return to the country-girl, thy Bess.</p>
+
+<p>"You once, my friend, wished me to treat this girl of yours as my
+sister. Do you know what the duties of a sister are?"</p>
+
+<p>"They imply no more kindness or affection than you already feel towards
+my Bess. Are you not her sister?"</p>
+
+<p>"I ought to have been so. I ought to have been proud of the relation you
+ascribe to me, but I have not performed any of its duties. I blush to
+think upon the coldness and perverseness of my heart. With such means as
+I possess, of giving happiness to others, I have been thoughtless and
+inactive to a strange degree; perhaps, however, it is not yet too late.
+Are you still willing to invest me with all the rights of an elder
+sister over this girl? And will she consent, think you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly she will; she has."</p>
+
+<p>"Then the first act of sistership will be to take her from the country;
+from persons on whose kindness she has no natural claim, whose manners
+and characters are unlike her own, and with whom no improvement can be
+expected, and bring her back to her sister's house and bosom, to provide
+for her subsistence and education, and watch over her happiness.</p>
+
+<p>"I will not be a nominal sister. I will not be a sister by halves. <i>All</i>
+the rights of that relation I will have, or none. As for you, you have
+claims upon her on which I must be permitted to judge, as becomes the
+elder sister, who, by the loss of all other relations, must occupy the
+place, possess the rights, and fulfil the duties, of father, mother, and
+brother.</p>
+
+<p>"She has now arrived at an age when longer to remain in a cold and
+churlish soil will stunt her growth and wither her blossoms. We must
+hasten to transplant her to a genial element and a garden well enclosed.
+Having so long neglected this charming plant, it becomes me henceforth
+to take her wholly to myself.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, for it is no longer in her or your power to take back the
+gift, since she is fully mine, I will charge you with the office of
+conducting her hither. I grant it you as a favour. Will you go?"</p>
+
+<p>"Go! I will fly!" I exclaimed, in an ecstasy of joy, "on pinions swifter
+than the wind. Not the lingering of an instant will I bear. Look! one,
+two, three&mdash;thirty minutes after nine. I will reach Curling's gate by
+the morn's dawn. I will put my girl into a chaise, and by noon she
+shall throw herself into the arms of her sister. But first, shall I not,
+in some way, manifest my gratitude?"</p>
+
+<p>My senses were bewildered, and I knew not what I did. I intended to
+kneel, as to my mother or my deity; but, instead of that, I clasped her
+in my arms, and kissed her lips fervently. I stayed not to discover the
+effects of this insanity, but left the room and the house, and, calling
+for a moment at Stevens's, left word with the servant, my friend being
+gone abroad, that I should not return till the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>Never was a lighter heart, a gayety more overflowing and more buoyant,
+than mine. All cold from a boisterous night, at a chilly season, all
+weariness from a rugged and miry road, were charmed away. I might have
+ridden; but I could not brook delay, even the delay of inquiring for and
+equipping a horse. I might thus have saved myself fatigue, and have lost
+no time; but my mind was in too great a tumult for deliberation and
+forecast. I saw nothing but the image of my girl, whom my tidings would
+render happy.</p>
+
+<p>The way was longer than my fond imagination had foreseen. I did not
+reach Curling's till an hour after sunrise. The distance was full
+thirty-five miles. As I hastened up the green lane leading to the house,
+I spied my Bess passing through a covered way, between the dwelling and
+kitchen. I caught her eye. She stopped and held up her hands, and then
+ran into my arms.</p>
+
+<p>"What means my girl? Why this catching of the breath? Why this sobbing?
+Look at me, my love. It is Arthur,&mdash;he who has treated you with
+forgetfulness, neglect, and cruelty."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, do not," she replied, hiding her face with her hand. "One single
+reproach, added to my own, will kill me. That foolish, wicked letter&mdash;I
+could tear my fingers for writing it."</p>
+
+<p>"But," said I, "I will kiss them;" and put them to my lips. "They have
+told me the wishes of my girl. They have enabled me to gratify her
+wishes. I have come to carry thee this very moment to town."</p>
+
+<p>"Lord bless me, Arthur," said she, lost in a sweet confusion, and her
+cheeks, always glowing, glowing still more deeply, "indeed, I did not
+mean&mdash;&mdash;I meant only&mdash;&mdash;I will stay here&mdash;&mdash;I would rather stay&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It grieves me to hear that," said I, with earnestness; "I thought I was
+studying our mutual happiness."</p>
+
+<p>"It grieves you? Don't say so. I would not grieve you for the world;
+but, indeed, indeed, it is too soon. Such a girl as I am not yet fit
+to&mdash;live in your city." Again she hid her glowing face in my bosom.</p>
+
+<p>"Sweet consciousness! Heavenly innocence!" thought I; "may Achsa's
+conjectures prove false!&mdash;You have mistaken my design, for I do not
+intend to carry you to town with such a view as you have hinted; but
+merely to place you with a beloved friend, with Achsa Fielding, of whom
+already you know so much, where we shall enjoy each other's company
+without restraint or intermission."</p>
+
+<p>I then proceeded to disclose to her the plan suggested by my friend, and
+to explain all the consequences that would flow from it. I need not say
+that she assented to the scheme. She was all rapture and gratitude.
+Preparations for departure were easily and speedily made. I hired a
+chaise of a neighbouring farmer, and, according to my promise, by noon
+the same day, delivered the timid and bashful girl into the arms of her
+new sister.</p>
+
+<p>She was received with the utmost tenderness, not only by Mrs. Fielding,
+but by all my friends. Her affectionate heart was encouraged to pour
+forth all its feeling as into the bosom of a mother. She was reinspired
+with confidence. Her want of experience was supplied by the gentlest
+admonitions and instructions. In every plan for her improvement
+suggested by her new <i>mamma</i>, (for she never called her by any other
+name,) she engaged with docility and eagerness; and her behaviour and
+her progress exceeded the most sanguine hopes that I had formed as to
+the softness of her temper and the acuteness of her genius.</p>
+
+<p>Those graces which a polished education, and intercourse with the better
+classes of society, are adapted to give, my girl possessed, in some
+degree, by a native and intuitive refinement and sagacity of mind. All
+that was to be obtained from actual observation and instruction was
+obtained without difficulty; and in a short time nothing but the
+affectionate simplicity and unperverted feelings of the country-girl
+bespoke the original condition.</p>
+
+<p>"What art so busy about, Arthur? Always at thy pen of late. Come, I must
+know the fruit of all this toil and all this meditation. I am determined
+to scrape acquaintance with Haller and Linn&aelig;us. I will begin this very
+day. All one's friends, you know, should be ours. Love has made many a
+patient, and let me see if it cannot, in my case, make a physician. But,
+first, what is all this writing about?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Wentworth has put me upon a strange task,&mdash;not disagreeable,
+however, but such as I should, perhaps, have declined, had not the
+absence of my Bess, and her mamma, made the time hang somewhat heavy. I
+have, oftener than once, and far more circumstantially than now, told
+her my adventures, but she is not satisfied. She wants a written
+narrative, for some purpose which she tells me she will disclose to me
+hereafter.</p>
+
+<p>"Luckily, my friend Stevens has saved me more than half the trouble. He
+has done me the favour to compile much of my history with his own hand.
+I cannot imagine what could prompt him to so wearisome an undertaking;
+but he says that adventures and a destiny so singular as mine ought not
+to be abandoned to forgetfulness like any vulgar and <i>every-day</i>
+existence. Besides, when he wrote it, he suspected that it might be
+necessary to the safety of my reputation and my life, from the
+consequences of my connection with Welbeck. Time has annihilated that
+danger. All enmities and all suspicions are buried with that ill-fated
+wretch. Wortley has been won by my behaviour, and confides in my
+integrity now as much as he formerly suspected it. I am glad, however,
+that the task was performed. It has saved me a world of writing. I had
+only to take up the broken thread, and bring it down to the period of my
+present happiness; and this was done, just as you tripped along the
+entry this morning.</p>
+
+<p>"To bed, my friend; it is late, and this delicate frame is not half so
+able to encounter fatigue as a youth spent in the hay-field and the
+dairy might have been expected to be."</p>
+
+<p>"I will, but let me take these sheets along with me. I will read them,
+that I am determined, before I sleep, and watch if you have told the
+whole truth."</p>
+
+<p>"Do so, if you please; but remember one thing. Mrs. Wentworth requested
+me to write not as if it were designed for her perusal, but for those
+who have no previous knowledge of her or of me. 'Twas an odd request. I
+cannot imagine what she means by it; but she never acts without good
+reason, and I have done so. And now, withdraw, my dear, and farewell."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLVI.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Move on, my quill! wait not for my guidance. Reanimated with thy
+master's spirit, all airy light! A heyday rapture! A mounting impulse
+sways him: lifts him from the earth.</p>
+
+<p>I must, cost what it will, rein in this upward-pulling,
+forward-going&mdash;what shall I call it? But there are times, and now is one
+of them, when words are poor.</p>
+
+<p>It will not do&mdash;down this hill, up that steep; through this thicket,
+over that hedge&mdash;I have <i>laboured</i> to fatigue myself: to reconcile me to
+repose; to lolling on a sofa; to poring over a book, to any thing that
+might win for my heart a respite from these throbs; to deceive me into a
+few <i>tolerable</i> moments of forgetfulness.</p>
+
+<p>Let me see; they tell me this is Monday night. Only three days yet to
+come! If thus restless to-day; if my heart thus bounds till its mansion
+scarcely can hold it, what must be my state to-morrow! What next day!
+What as the hour hastens on; as the sun descends; as my hand touches
+hers in sign of wedded unity, of love without interval; of concord
+without end!</p>
+
+<p>I must quell these tumults. They will disable me else. They will wear
+out all my strength. They will drain away life itself. But who could
+have thought! So soon! Not three months since I first set eyes upon her.
+Not three weeks since our plighted love, and only three days to
+terminate suspense and give me <i>all</i>.</p>
+
+<p>I must compel myself to quiet; to sleep. I must find some refuge from
+anticipations so excruciating. All extremes are agonies. A joy like this
+is too big for this narrow tenement. I must thrust it forth; I must bar
+and bolt it out for a time, or these frail walls will burst asunder.
+The pen is a pacifier. It checks the mind's career; it circumscribes her
+wanderings. It traces out and compels us to adhere to one path. It ever
+was my friend. Often it has blunted my vexations; hushed my stormy
+passions; turned my peevishness to soothing; my fierce revenge to
+heart-dissolving pity.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps it will befriend me now. It may temper my impetuous wishes; lull
+my intoxication; and render my happiness supportable; and, indeed, it
+has produced partly this effect already. My blood, within the few
+minutes thus employed, flows with less destructive rapidity. My thoughts
+range themselves in less disorder. And, now that the conquest is
+effected, what shall I say? I must continue at the pen, or shall
+immediately relapse.</p>
+
+<p>What shall I say? Let me look back upon the steps that led me hither.
+Let me recount the preliminaries. I cannot do better.</p>
+
+<p>And first as to Achsa Fielding,&mdash;to describe this woman.</p>
+
+<p>To recount, in brief, so much of her history as has come to my knowledge
+will best account for that zeal, almost to idolatry, with which she has,
+ever since I thoroughly knew her, been regarded by me.</p>
+
+<p>Never saw I one to whom the term <i>lovely</i> more truly belonged. And yet
+in stature she is too low; in complexion dark and almost sallow; and her
+eyes, though black and of piercing lustre, have a cast which I cannot
+well explain. It lessens without destroying their lustre and their force
+to charm; but all personal defects are outweighed by her heart and her
+intellect. There is the secret of her power to entrance the soul of the
+listener and beholder. It is not only when she sings that her utterance
+is musical. It is not only when the occasion is urgent and the topic
+momentous that her eloquence is rich and flowing. They are always so.</p>
+
+<p>I had vowed to love her and serve her, and been her frequent visitant,
+long before I was acquainted with her past life. I had casually picked
+up some intelligence, from others, or from her own remarks. I knew very
+soon that she was English by birth, and had been only a year and a half
+in America; that she had scarcely passed her twenty-fifth year, and was
+still embellished with all the graces of youth; that she had been a
+wife; but was uninformed whether the knot had been untied by death or
+divorce; that she possessed considerable, and even splendid, fortune;
+but the exact amount, and all besides these particulars, were unknown to
+me till some time after our acquaintance was begun.</p>
+
+<p>One evening she had been talking very earnestly on the influence
+annexed, in Great Britain, to birth, and had given me some examples of
+this influence. Meanwhile my eyes were fixed steadfastly on hers. The
+peculiarity in their expression never before affected me so strongly. A
+vague resemblance to something seen elsewhere, on the same day,
+occurred, and occasioned me to exclaim, suddenly, in a pause of her
+discourse,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"As I live, my good mamma, those eyes of yours have told me a secret. I
+almost think they spoke to me; and I am not less amazed at the
+strangeness than at the distinctness of their story."</p>
+
+<p>"And, pr'ythee, what have they said?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I was mistaken. I might have been deceived by a fancied voice,
+or have confounded one word with another near akin to it; but let me die
+if I did not think they said that you were&mdash;<i>a Jew</i>."</p>
+
+<p>At this sound, her features were instantly veiled with the deepest
+sorrow and confusion. She put her hand to her eyes, the tears started,
+and she sobbed. My surprise at this effect of my words was equal to my
+contrition. I besought her to pardon me for having thus unknowingly
+alarmed and grieved her.</p>
+
+<p>After she had regained some composure, she said, "You have not offended,
+Arthur. Your surmise was just and natural, and could not always have
+escaped you. Connected with that word are many sources of anguish, which
+time has not, and never will, dry up; and the less I think of past
+events the less will my peace be disturbed. I was desirous that you
+should know nothing of me but what you see; nothing but the present and
+the future, merely that no allusions might occur in our conversation
+which will call up sorrows and regrets that will avail nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"I now perceive the folly of endeavouring to keep you in ignorance, and
+shall therefore, once for all, inform you of what has befallen me, that
+your inquiries and suggestions may be made and fully satisfied at once,
+and your curiosity have no motive for calling back my thoughts to what I
+ardently desire to bury in oblivion.</p>
+
+<p>"My father was indeed a <i>Jew</i>, and one of the most opulent of his nation
+in London,&mdash;a Portuguese by birth, but came to London when a boy. He had
+few of the moral or external qualities of Jews; for I suppose there is
+some justice in the obloquy that follows them so closely. He was frugal
+without meanness, and cautious in his dealings, without extortion. I
+need not fear to say this, for it was the general voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Me, an only child, and, of course, the darling of my parents, they
+trained up in the most liberal manner. My education was purely English.
+I learned the same things and of the same masters with my neighbours.
+Except frequenting their church and repeating their creed, and partaking
+of the same food, I saw no difference between them and me. Hence I grew
+more indifferent, perhaps, than was proper, to the distinctions of
+religion. They were never enforced upon me. No pains were taken to fill
+me with scruples and antipathies. They never stood, as I may say, upon
+the threshold. They were often thought upon, but were vague and easily
+eluded or forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>"Hence it was that my heart too readily admitted impressions that more
+zeal and more parental caution would have saved me from. They could
+scarcely be avoided, as my society was wholly English, and my youth, my
+education, and my father's wealth made me an object of much attention.
+And the same causes that lulled to sleep my own watchfulness had the
+same effect upon that of others. To regret or to praise this remissness
+is now too late. Certain it is, that my destiny, and not a happy
+destiny, was fixed by it.</p>
+
+<p>"The fruit of this remissness was a passion for one who fully returned
+it. Almost as young as I, who was only sixteen; he knew as little as
+myself what obstacles the difference of our births was likely to raise
+between us. His father, Sir Ralph Fielding, a man nobly born, high in
+office, splendidly allied, could not be expected to consent to the
+marriage of his eldest son, in such green youth, to the daughter of an
+alien, a Portuguese, a Jew; but these impediments were not seen by my
+ignorance, and were overlooked by the youth's passion.</p>
+
+<p>"But, strange to tell, what common prudence would have so confidently
+predicted did not happen. Sir Ralph had a numerous family, likely to be
+still more so; had but slender patrimony; the income of his offices
+nearly made up his all. The young man was headstrong, impetuous, and
+would probably disregard the inclinations of his family. Yet the father
+would not consent but on one condition,&mdash;that of my admission to the
+English Church.</p>
+
+<p>"No very strenuous opposition to these terms could be expected from me.
+At so thoughtless an age, with an education so unfavourable to religious
+impressions; swayed, likewise, by the strongest of human passions; made
+somewhat impatient, by the company I kept, of the disrepute and scorn to
+which the Jewish nation are everywhere condemned, I could not be
+expected to be very averse to the scheme.</p>
+
+<p>"My fears as to what my father's decision would be were soon at an end.
+He loved his child too well to thwart her wishes in so essential a
+point. Finding in me no scruples, no unwillingness, he thought it absurd
+to be scrupulous for me. My own heart having abjured my religion, it was
+absurd to make any difficulty about a formal renunciation. These were
+his avowed reasons for concurrence, but time showed that he had probably
+other reasons, founded, indeed, in his regard for my happiness, but such
+as, if they had been known, would probably have strengthened into
+invincible the reluctance of my lover's family.</p>
+
+<p>"No marriage was ever attended with happier presages. The numerous
+relations of my husband admitted me with the utmost cordiality among
+them. My father's tenderness was unabated by this change, and those
+humiliations to which I had before been exposed were now no more; and
+every tie was strengthened, at the end of a year, by the feelings of a
+<i>mother</i>. I had need, indeed, to know a season of happiness, that I
+might be fitted to endure the sad reverses that succeeded. One after the
+other my disasters came, each one more heavy than the last, and in such
+swift succession that they hardly left me time to breathe.</p>
+
+<p>"I had scarcely left my chamber, I had scarcely recovered my usual
+health, and was able to press with true fervour the new and precious
+gift to my bosom, when melancholy tidings came. I was in the country, at
+the seat of my father-in-law, when the messenger arrived.</p>
+
+<p>"A shocking tale it was! and told abruptly, with every unpitying
+aggravation. I hinted to you once my father's death. The <i>kind</i> of
+death&mdash;oh! my friend! It was horrible. He was then a placid, venerable
+old man; though many symptoms of disquiet had long before been
+discovered by my mother's watchful tenderness. Yet none could suspect
+him capable of such a deed; for none, so carefully had he conducted his
+affairs, suspected the havoc that mischance had made of his property.</p>
+
+<p>"I, that had so much reason to love my father,&mdash;I will leave you to
+imagine how I was affected by a catastrophe so dreadful, so
+unlooked-for. Much less could I suspect the cause of his despair; yet he
+had foreseen his ruin before my marriage; had resolved to defer it, for
+his daughter's and his wife's sake, as long as possible, but had still
+determined not to survive the day that should reduce him to indigence.
+The desperate act was thus preconcerted&mdash;thus deliberate.</p>
+
+<p>"The true state of his affairs was laid open by his death. The failure
+of great mercantile houses at Frankfort and Liege was the cause of his
+disasters.</p>
+
+<p>"Thus were my prospects shut in. That wealth which, no doubt, furnished
+the chief inducement with my husband's family to concur in his choice,
+was now suddenly exchanged for poverty.</p>
+
+<p>"Bred up, as I had been, in pomp and luxury; conscious that my wealth
+was my chief security from the contempt of the proud and bigoted, and my
+chief title to the station to which I had been raised, and which I the
+more delighted in because it enabled me to confer so great obligations
+on my husband,&mdash;what reverse could be harder than this, and how much
+bitterness was added by it to the grief occasioned by the violent death
+of my father!</p>
+
+<p>"Yet loss of fortune, though it mortified my pride, did not prove my
+worst calamity. Perhaps it was scarcely to be ranked with evils, since
+it furnished a touchstone by which my husband's affections were to be
+tried; especially as the issue of the trial was auspicious; for my
+misfortune seemed only to heighten the interest which my character had
+made for me in the hearts of all that knew me. The paternal regards of
+Sir Ralph had always been tender, but that tenderness seemed now to be
+redoubled.</p>
+
+<p>"New events made this consolation still more necessary. My unhappy
+mother!&mdash;She was nearer to the dreadful scene when it happened; had no
+surviving object to beguile her sorrow; was rendered, by long habit,
+more dependent upon fortune than her child.</p>
+
+<p>"A melancholy, always mute, was the first effect upon my mother. Nothing
+could charm her eye, or her ear. Sweet sounds that she once loved, and
+especially when her darling child was the warbler, were heard no longer.
+How, with streaming eyes, have I sat and watched the dear lady, and
+endeavoured to catch her eye, to rouse her attention!&mdash;But I must not
+think of these things.</p>
+
+<p>"But even this distress was little in comparison with what was to come.
+A frenzy thus mute, motionless, and vacant, was succeeded by fits,
+talkative, outrageous, requiring incessant superintendence, restraint,
+and even violence.</p>
+
+<p>"Why led you me thus back to my sad remembrances? Excuse me for the
+present. I will tell you the rest some other time; to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>To-morrow, accordingly, my friend resumed her story.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me now make an end," said she, "of my mournful narrative, and
+never, I charge you, do any thing to revive it again.</p>
+
+<p>"Deep as was my despondency, occasioned by these calamities, I was not
+destitute of some joy. My husband and my child were lovely and
+affectionate. In their caresses, in their welfare, I found peace; and
+might still have found it, had there not been&mdash;&mdash;. But why should I open
+afresh wounds which time has imperfectly closed? But the story must some
+time be told to you, and the sooner it is told and dismissed to
+forgetfulness the better.</p>
+
+<p>"My ill fate led me into company with a woman too well known in the idle
+and dissipated circles. Her character was not unknown to me. There was
+nothing in her features or air to obviate disadvantageous
+prepossessions. I sought not her intercourse; I rather shunned it, as
+unpleasing and discreditable, but she would not be repulsed.
+Self-invited, she made herself my frequent guest; took unsolicited part
+in my concerns; did me many kind offices; and, at length, in spite of my
+counter-inclination, won upon my sympathy and gratitude.</p>
+
+<p>"No one in the world, did I fondly think, had I less reason to fear than
+Mrs. Waring. Her character excited not the slightest apprehension for my
+own safety. She was upwards of forty, nowise remarkable for grace or
+beauty; tawdry in her dress; accustomed to render more conspicuous the
+traces of age by her attempts to hide them; the mother of a numerous
+family, with a mind but slenderly cultivated; always careful to save
+appearances; studiously preserving distance with my husband, and he,
+like myself, enduring rather than wishing her society. What could I fear
+from the arts of such a one?</p>
+
+<p>"But alas! the woman had consummate address. Patience, too, that nothing
+could tire. Watchfulness that none could detect. Insinuation the wiliest
+and most subtle. Thus wound she herself into my affections, by an
+unexampled perseverance in seeming kindness; by tender confidence; by
+artful glosses of past misconduct; by self-rebukes and feigned
+contritions.</p>
+
+<p>"Never were stratagems so intricate, dissimulation so profound! But
+still, that such a one should seduce my husband; young, generous,
+ambitious, impatient of contumely and reproach, and surely not
+indifferent; before this fatal intercourse, not indifferent to his wife
+and child!&mdash;Yet so it was!</p>
+
+<p>"I saw his discontents; his struggles; I heard him curse this woman, and
+the more deeply for my attempts, unconscious as I was of her
+machinations, to reconcile them to each other, to do away what seemed a
+causeless indignation, or antipathy against her. How little I suspected
+the nature of the conflict in his heart, between a new passion and the
+claims of pride; of conscience and of humanity; the claims of a child
+and a wife; a wife, already in affliction, and placing all that yet
+remained of happiness, in the firmness of his virtue; in the continuance
+of his love; a wife, at the very hour of his meditated flight, full of
+terrors at the near approach of an event whose agonies demand a double
+share of a husband's supporting, encouraging love&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Good Heaven! For what evils are some of thy creatures reserved!
+Resignation to thy decree, in the last and most cruel distress, was,
+indeed, a hard task.</p>
+
+<p>"He was gone. Some unavoidable engagement calling him to Hamburg was
+pleaded. Yet to leave me at such an hour! I dared not upbraid, nor
+object. The tale was so specious! The fortunes of a friend depended on
+his punctual journey. The falsehood of his story too soon made itself
+known. He was gone, in company with his detested paramour!</p>
+
+<p>"Yet, though my vigilance was easily deceived, it was not so with
+others. A creditor, who had his bond for three thousand pounds, pursued
+and arrested him at Harwich. He was thrown into prison, but his
+companion&mdash;let me, at least, say that in her praise&mdash;would not desert
+him. She took lodging near the place of his confinement, and saw him
+daily. That, had she not done it, and had my personal condition allowed,
+should have been my province.</p>
+
+<p>"Indignation and grief hastened the painful crisis with me. I did not
+weep that the second fruit of this unhappy union saw not the light. I
+wept only that this hour of agony was not, to its unfortunate mother,
+the last.</p>
+
+<p>"I felt not anger; I had nothing but compassion for Fielding. Gladly
+would I have recalled him to my arms and to virtue; I wrote, adjuring
+him, by all our past joys, to return; vowing only gratitude for his new
+affection, and claiming only the recompense of seeing him restored to
+his family; to liberty; to reputation.</p>
+
+<p>"But, alas! Fielding had a good but a proud heart. He looked upon his
+error with remorse, with self-detestation, and with the fatal belief
+that it could not be retrieved; shame made him withstand all my
+reasonings and persuasions, and, in the hurry of his feelings, he made
+solemn vows that he would, in the moment of restored liberty, abjure his
+country and his family forever. He bore indignantly the yoke of his new
+attachment, but he strove in vain to shake it off. Her behaviour, always
+yielding, doting, supplicative, preserved him in her fetters. Though
+upbraided, spurned, and banished from his presence, she would not leave
+him, but, by new efforts and new artifices, soothed, appeased, and won
+again and kept his tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>"What my entreaties were unable to effect, his father could not hope to
+accomplish. He offered to take him from prison; the creditor offered to
+cancel the bond, if he would return to me; but this condition he
+refused. All his kindred, and one who had been his bosom-friend from
+childhood, joined in beseeching his compliance with these conditions;
+but his pride, his dread of my merited reproaches, the merits and
+dissuasions of his new companion, whose sacrifices for his sake had not
+been small, were obstacles which nothing could subdue.</p>
+
+<p>"Far, indeed, was I from imposing these conditions. I waited only till,
+by certain arrangements, I could gather enough to pay his debts, to
+enable him to execute his vow: empty would have been my claims to his
+affection, if I could have suffered, with the means of his deliverance
+in my hands, my husband to remain a moment in prison.</p>
+
+<p>"The remains of my father's vast fortune was a jointure of a thousand
+pounds a year, settled on my mother, and, after her death, on me. My
+mother's helpless condition put this revenue into my disposal. By this
+means was I enabled, without the knowledge of my father-in-law or my
+husband, to purchase the debt, and dismiss him from prison. He set out
+instantly, in company with his paramour, to France.</p>
+
+<p>"When somewhat recovered from the shock of this calamity, I took up my
+abode with my mother. What she had was enough, as you perhaps will
+think, for plentiful subsistence; but to us, with habits of a different
+kind, it was little better than poverty. That reflection, my father's
+memory, my mother's deplorable state, which every year grew worse, and
+the late misfortune, were the chief companions of my thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"The dear child, whose smiles were uninterrupted by his mother's
+afflictions, was some consolation in my solitude. To his instruction and
+to my mother's wants all my hours were devoted. I was sometimes not
+without the hope of better days. Full as my mind was of Fielding's
+merits, convinced by former proofs of his ardent and generous spirit, I
+trusted that time and reflection would destroy that spell by which he
+was now bound.</p>
+
+<p>"For some time, the progress of these reflections was not known. In
+leaving England, Fielding dropped all correspondence and connection with
+his native country. He parted with the woman at Rouen, leaving no trace
+behind him by which she might follow him, as she wished to do. She never
+returned to England, but died a twelvemonth afterwards in Switzerland.</p>
+
+<p>"As to me, I had only to muse day and night upon the possible destiny of
+this beloved fugitive. His incensed father cared not for him. He had
+cast him out of his paternal affections, ceased to make inquiries
+respecting him, and even wished never to hear of him again. My boy
+succeeded to my husband's place in his grandfather's affections, and in
+the hopes and views of the family; and his mother wanted nothing which
+their compassionate and respectful love could bestow.</p>
+
+<p>"Three long and tedious years passed away, and no tidings were received.
+Whether he were living or dead, nobody could tell. At length, an English
+traveller, going out of the customary road from Italy, met with
+Fielding, in a town in the Venaissin. His manners, habits, and language,
+had become French. He seemed unwilling to be recognised by an old
+acquaintance, but, not being able to avoid this, and becoming gradually
+familiar, he informed the traveller of many particulars in his present
+situation. It appeared that he had made himself useful to a neighbouring
+<i>seigneur</i>, in whose <i>ch&acirc;teau</i> he had long lived on the footing of a
+brother. France he had resolved to make his future country, and, among
+other changes for that end, he had laid aside his English name, and
+taken that of his patron, which was <i>Perrin</i>. He had endeavoured to
+compensate himself for all other privations, by devoting himself to
+rural amusements and to study.</p>
+
+<p>"He carefully shunned all inquiries respecting me; but, when my name was
+mentioned by his friend, who knew well all that had happened, and my
+general welfare, together with that of his son, asserted, he showed deep
+sensibility, and even consented that I should be made acquainted with
+his situation.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot describe the effect of this intelligence on me. My hopes of
+bringing him back to me were suddenly revived. I wrote him a letter, in
+which I poured forth my whole heart; but his answer contained avowals of
+all his former resolutions, to which time had only made his adherence
+more easy. A second and third letter were written, and an offer made to
+follow him to his retreat and share his exile; but all my efforts
+availed nothing. He solemnly and repeatedly renounced all the claims of
+a husband over me, and absolved me from every obligation as a wife.</p>
+
+<p>"His part in this correspondence was performed without harshness or
+contempt. A strange mixture there was of pathos and indifference; of
+tenderness and resolution. Hence I continually derived hope, which time,
+however, brought no nearer to certainty.</p>
+
+<p>"At the opening of the Revolution, the name of Perrin appeared among the
+deputies to the constituent assembly for the district in which he
+resided. He had thus succeeded in gaining all the rights of a French
+citizen; and the hopes of his return became almost extinct; but that,
+and every other hope respecting him, has since been totally extinguished
+by his marriage with Marguerite d'Almont, a young lady of great merit
+and fortune, and a native of Avignon.</p>
+
+<p>"A long period of suspense was now at an end, and left me in a state
+almost as full of anguish as that which our first separation produced.
+My sorrows were increased by my mother's death, and, this incident
+freeing me from those restraints upon my motions which before existed, I
+determined to come to America.</p>
+
+<p>"My son was now eight years old, and, his grandfather claiming the
+province of his instruction, I was persuaded to part with him, that he
+might be sent to a distant school. Thus was another tie removed, and, in
+spite of the well-meant importunities of my friends, I persisted in my
+scheme of crossing the ocean."</p>
+
+<p>I could not help, at this part of her narration, expressing my surprise
+that any motives were strong enough to recommend this scheme.</p>
+
+<p>"It was certainly a freak of despair. A few months would, perhaps, have
+allayed the fresh grief, and reconciled me to my situation; but I would
+not pause or deliberate. My scheme was opposed by my friends with great
+earnestness. During my voyage, affrighted by the dangers which
+surrounded me, and to which I was wholly unused, I heartily repented of
+my resolution; but now, methinks, I have reason to rejoice at my
+perseverance. I have come into a scene and society so new, I have had so
+many claims made upon my ingenuity and fortitude, that my mind has been
+diverted in some degree from former sorrows. There are even times when I
+wholly forget them, and catch myself indulging in cheerful reveries.</p>
+
+<p>"I have often reflected with surprise on the nature of my own mind. It
+is eight years since my father's violent death. How few of my hours
+since that period have been blessed with serenity! How many nights and
+days, in hateful and lingering succession, have been bathed in tears and
+tormented with regrets! That I am still alive, with so many causes of
+death, and with such a slow-consuming malady, is surely to be wondered
+at.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe the worst foes of man, at least of men in grief, are solitude
+and idleness. The same eternally-occurring round of objects feeds his
+disease, and the effects of mere vacancy and uniformity are sometimes
+mistaken for those of grief. Yes, I am glad I came to America. My
+relations are importunate for my return, and till lately I had some
+thoughts of it; but I think now I shall stay where I am for the rest of
+my days.</p>
+
+<p>"Since I arrived, I am become more of a student than I used to be. I
+always loved literature, but never, till of late, had I a mind enough at
+ease to read with advantage. I now find pleasure in the occupation which
+I never expected to find.</p>
+
+<p>"You see in what manner I live. The letters which I brought secured me a
+flattering reception from the best people in your country; but scenes of
+gay resort had nothing to attract me, and I quickly withdrew to that
+seclusion in which you now find me. Here, always at leisure, and
+mistress of every laudable means of gratification, I am not without the
+belief of serene days yet to come."</p>
+
+<p>I now ventured to inquire what were her latest tidings of her husband.</p>
+
+<p>"At the opening of the Revolution, I told you, he became a champion of
+the people. By his zeal and his efforts he acquired such importance as
+to be deputed to the National Assembly. In this post he was the adherent
+of violent measures, till the subversion of monarchy; and then, when too
+late for his safety, he checked his career."</p>
+
+<p>"And what has since become of him?"</p>
+
+<p>She sighed deeply. "You were yesterday reading a list of the proscribed
+under Robespierre. I checked you. I had good reason. But this subject
+grows too painful; let us change it."</p>
+
+<p>Some time after, I ventured to renew this topic; and discovered that
+Fielding, under his new name of Perrin d'Almont, was among the outlawed
+deputies of last year,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> and had been slain in resisting the officers
+sent to arrest him. My friend had been informed that his <i>wife</i>,
+Marguerite d'Almont, whom she had reason to believe a woman of great
+merit, had eluded persecution, and taken refuge in some part of America.
+She had made various attempts, but in vain, to find out her retreat.
+"Ah!" said I, "you must commission me to find her. I will hunt her
+through the continent from Penobscot to Savannah. I will not leave a
+nook unsearched."</p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> 1793.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLVII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>None will be surprised that, to a woman thus unfortunate and thus
+deserving, my heart willingly rendered up all its sympathies; that, as I
+partook of all her grief, I hailed, with equal delight, those omens of
+felicity which now, at length, seemed to play in her fancy.</p>
+
+<p>I saw her often,&mdash;as often as my engagements would permit, and oftener
+than I allowed myself to visit any other. In this I was partly selfish.
+So much entertainment, so much of the best instruction, did her
+conversation afford me, that I never had enough of it.</p>
+
+<p>Her experience had been so much larger than mine, and so wholly
+different, and she possessed such unbounded facility of recounting all
+she had seen and felt, and absolute sincerity and unreserve in this
+respect were so fully established between us, that I can imagine nothing
+equally instructive and delightful with her conversation.</p>
+
+<p>Books are cold, jejune, vexatious in their sparingness of information at
+one time and their impertinent loquacity at another. Besides, all they
+choose to give they give at once; they allow no questions, offer no
+further explanations, and bend not to the caprices of our curiosity.
+They talk to us behind a screen. Their tone is lifeless and monotonous.
+They charm not our attention by mute significances of gesture and looks.
+They spread no light upon their meaning by cadences and emphasis and
+pause.</p>
+
+<p>How different was Mrs. Fielding's discourse! So versatile; so bending to
+the changes of the occasion; so obsequious to my curiosity, and so
+abundant in that very knowledge in which I was most deficient, and on
+which I set the most value, the knowledge of the human heart; of
+society as it existed in another world, more abundant in the varieties
+of customs and characters, than I had ever had the power to witness.</p>
+
+<p>Partly selfish I have said my motives were, but not so, as long as I saw
+that my friend derived pleasure, in her turn, from my company. Not that
+I could add directly to her knowledge or pleasure, but that expansion of
+heart, that ease of utterance and flow of ideas which always were
+occasioned by my approach, were sources of true pleasure of which she
+had been long deprived, and for which her privation had given her a
+higher relish than ever.</p>
+
+<p>She lived in great affluence and independence, but made use of her
+privileges of fortune chiefly to secure to herself the command of her
+own time. She had been long ago tired and disgusted with the dull and
+fulsome uniformity and parade of the play-house and ballroom. Formal
+visits were endured as mortifications and penances, by which the
+delights of privacy and friendly intercourse were by contrast increased.
+Music she loved, but never sought it in places of public resort, or from
+the skill of mercenary performers; and books were not the least of her
+pleasures.</p>
+
+<p>As to me, I was wax in her hand. Without design and without effort, I
+was always of that form she wished me to assume. My own happiness became
+a secondary passion, and her gratification the great end of my being.
+When with her, I thought not of myself. I had scarcely a separate or
+independent existence, since my senses were occupied by her, and my mind
+was full of those ideas which her discourse communicated. To meditate on
+her looks and words, and to pursue the means suggested by my own
+thoughts, or by her, conducive, in any way, to her good, was all my
+business.</p>
+
+<p>"What a fate," said I, at the conclusion of one of our interviews, "has
+been yours! But, thank Heaven, the storm has disappeared before the age
+of sensibility has gone past, and without drying up every source of
+happiness. You are still young; all your powers unimpaired; rich in the
+compassion and esteem of the world; wholly independent of the claims and
+caprices of others; amply supplied with that means of usefulness,
+called money; wise in that experience which only adversity can give.
+Past evils and sufferings, if incurred and endured without guilt, if
+called to view without remorse, make up the materials of present joy.
+They cheer our most dreary hours with the widespread accents of 'well
+done,' and they heighten our pleasures into somewhat of celestial
+brilliancy, by furnishing a deep, a ruefully-deep, contrast.</p>
+
+<p>"From this moment, I will cease to weep for you. I will call you the
+happiest of women. I will share with you your happiness by witnessing
+it; but that shall not content me. I must some way contribute to it.
+Tell me how I shall serve you. What can I do to make you happier? Poor
+am I in every thing but zeal, but still I may do something. What&mdash;pray
+tell me, what can I do?"</p>
+
+<p>She looked at me with sweet and solemn significance. What it was exactly
+I could not divine, yet I was strangely affected by it. It was but a
+glance, instantly withdrawn. She made me no answer.</p>
+
+<p>"You must not be silent; you <i>must</i> tell me what I can do for you.
+Hitherto I have done nothing. All the service is on your side. Your
+conversation has been my study, a delightful study, but the profit has
+only been mine. Tell me how I can be grateful: my voice and manner, I
+believe, seldom belie my feelings." At this time, I had almost done what
+a second thought made me suspect to be unauthorized. Yet I cannot tell
+why. My heart had nothing in it but reverence and admiration. Was she
+not the substitute of my lost mamma? Would I not have clasped that
+beloved shade? Yet the two beings were not just the same, or I should
+not, as now, have checked myself, and only pressed her hand to my lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me," repeated I, "what can I do to serve you? I read to you a
+little now, and you are pleased with my reading. I copy for you when you
+want the time. I guide the reins for you when you choose to ride. Humble
+offices, indeed, though, perhaps, all that a raw youth like me can do
+for you; but I can be still more assiduous. I can read several hours in
+the day, instead of one. I can write ten times as much as now.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you not my lost mamma come back again? And yet, not <i>exactly</i> her,
+I think. Something different; something better, I believe, if that be
+possible. At any rate, methinks I would be wholly yours. I shall be
+impatient and uneasy till every act, every thought, every minute,
+someway does you good.</p>
+
+<p>"How!" said I, (her eye, still averted, seemed to hold back the tear
+with difficulty, and she made a motion as if to rise,) "have I grieved
+you? Have I been importunate? Forgive me if I have offended you."</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes now overflowed without restraint. She articulated, with
+difficulty, "Tears are too prompt with me of late; but they did not
+upbraid you. Pain has often caused them to flow, but now
+it&mdash;is&mdash;<i>pleasure</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"What a heart must yours be!" I resumed. "When susceptible of such
+pleasures, what pangs must formerly have rent it!&mdash;But you are not
+displeased, you say, with my importunate zeal. You will accept me as
+your own in every thing. Direct me; prescribe to me. There must be
+<i>something</i> in which I can be of still more use to you; some way in
+which I can be wholly yours&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Wholly mine!</i>" she repeated, in a smothered voice, and rising. "Leave
+me, Arthur. It is too late for you to be here. It was wrong to stay so
+late."</p>
+
+<p>"I have been wrong; but how too late? I entered but this moment. It is
+twilight still; is it not?"</p>
+
+<p>"No: it is almost twelve. You have been here a long four hours; short
+ones I would rather say,&mdash;but indeed you must go."</p>
+
+<p>"What made me so thoughtless of the time? But I will go, yet not till
+you forgive me." I approached her with a confidence and for a purpose at
+which, upon reflection, I am not a little surprised; but the being
+called Mervyn is not the same in her company and in that of another.
+What is the difference, and whence comes it? Her words and looks engross
+me. My mind wants room for any other object. But why inquire whence the
+difference? The superiority of her merits and attractions to all those
+whom I knew would surely account for my fervour. Indifference, if I
+felt it, would be the only just occasion of wonder.</p>
+
+<p>The hour was, indeed, too late, and I hastened home. Stevens was waiting
+my return with some anxiety. I apologized for my delay, and recounted to
+him what had just passed. He listened with more than usual interest.
+When I had finished,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Mervyn," said he, "you seem not be aware of your present situation.
+From what you now tell me, and from what you have formerly told me, one
+thing seems very plain to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Pr'ythee, what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eliza Hadwin:&mdash;do you wish&mdash;could you bear&mdash;to see her the wife of
+another?"</p>
+
+<p>"Five years hence I will answer you. Then my answer may be, 'No; I wish
+her only to be mine.' Till then, I wish her only to be my pupil, my
+ward, my sister."</p>
+
+<p>"But these are remote considerations; they are bars to marriage, but not
+to love. Would it not molest and disquiet you to observe in her a
+passion for another?"</p>
+
+<p>"It would, but only on her own account; not on mine. At a suitable age
+it is very likely I may love her, because it is likely, if she holds on
+in her present career, she will then be worthy; but at present, though I
+would die to insure her happiness, I have no wish to insure it by
+marriage with her."</p>
+
+<p>"Is there no other whom you love?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. There is one worthier than all others; one whom I wish the woman
+who shall be my wife to resemble in all things."</p>
+
+<p>"And who is this model?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know I can only mean Achsa Fielding."</p>
+
+<p>"If you love her likeness, why not love herself?"</p>
+
+<p>I felt my heart leap.&mdash;"What a thought is that! Love her I <i>do</i> as I
+love my God; as I love virtue. To love her in another sense would brand
+me for a lunatic."</p>
+
+<p>"To love her as a woman, then, appears to you an act of folly."</p>
+
+<p>"In me it would be worse than folly. 'Twould be frenzy."</p>
+
+<p>"And why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why? Really, my friend, you astonish me. Nay, you startle me&mdash;for a
+question like that implies a doubt in you whether I have not actually
+harboured the thought."</p>
+
+<p>"No," said he, smiling, "presumptuous though you be, you have not,
+to-be-sure, reached so high a pitch. But still, though I think you
+innocent of so heinous an offence, there is no harm in asking why you
+might not love her, and even seek her for a wife."</p>
+
+<p>Achsa Fielding <i>my wife</i>! Good Heaven!&mdash;The very sound threw my soul
+into unconquerable tumults. "Take care, my friend," continued I, in
+beseeching accents, "you may do me more injury than you conceive, by
+even starting such a thought."</p>
+
+<p>"True," said he, "as long as such obstacles exist to your success; so
+many incurable objections: for instance, she is six years older than
+you."</p>
+
+<p>"That is an advantage. Her age is what it ought to be."</p>
+
+<p>"But she has been a wife and mother already."</p>
+
+<p>"That is likewise an advantage. She has wisdom, because she has
+experience. Her sensibilities are stronger, because they have been
+exercised and chastened. Her first marriage was unfortunate. The purer
+is the felicity she will taste in a second! If her second choice be
+propitious, the greater her tenderness and gratitude."</p>
+
+<p>"But she is a foreigner; independent of control, and rich."</p>
+
+<p>"All which are blessings to herself, and to him for whom her hand is
+reserved; especially if, like me, he is indigent."</p>
+
+<p>"But then she is unsightly as a <i>night-hag</i>, tawny as a Moor, the eye of
+a gipsy, low in stature, contemptibly diminutive, scarcely bulk enough
+to cast a shadow as she walks, less luxuriance than a charred log, fewer
+elasticities than a sheet pebble."</p>
+
+<p>"Hush! hush! blasphemer!"&mdash;(and I put my hand before his mouth)&mdash;"have I
+not told you that in mind, person, and condition, she is the type after
+which my enamoured fancy has modelled my wife?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh ho! Then the objection does not lie with you. It lies with her, it
+seems. She can find nothing in you to esteem! And, pray, for what faults
+do you think she would reject you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell. That she can ever balance for a moment, on such a
+question, is incredible. <i>Me! me!</i> That Achsa Fielding should think of
+me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Incredible, indeed! You, who are loathsome in your person, an idiot in
+your understanding, a villain in your morals! deformed! withered! vain,
+stupid, and malignant. That such a one should choose <i>you</i> for an idol!"</p>
+
+<p>"Pray, my friend," said I, anxiously, "jest not. What mean you by a hint
+of this kind?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will not jest, then, but will soberly inquire, what faults are they
+which make this lady's choice of you so incredible? You are younger than
+she, though no one, who merely observed your manners and heard you talk,
+would take you to be under thirty. You are poor: are these impediments?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should think not. I have heard her reason with admirable eloquence
+against the vain distinctions of property and nation and rank. They were
+once of moment in her eyes; but the sufferings, humiliations, and
+reflections of years have cured her of the folly. Her nation has
+suffered too much by the inhuman antipathies of religious and political
+faction; she, herself, has felt so often the contumelies of the rich,
+the high-born, and the bigoted, that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Pr'ythee, then, what dost imagine her objections to be?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;I don't know. The thought was so aspiring; to call her <i>my wife</i>
+was a height of bliss the very far-off view of which made my head
+dizzy."</p>
+
+<p>"A height, however, to attain which you suppose only her consent, her
+love, to be necessary?"</p>
+
+<p>"Without doubt, her love is indispensable."</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, Arthur, and let us no longer treat this matter lightly. I
+clearly see the importance of this moment to this lady's happiness and
+yours. It is plain that you love this woman. How could you help it? A
+brilliant skin is not hers; nor elegant proportions; nor majestic
+stature: yet no creature had ever more power to bewitch. Her manners
+have grace and dignity that flow from exquisite feelings, delicate
+taste, and the quickest and keenest penetration. She has the wisdom of
+men and of books. Her sympathies are enforced by reason, and her
+charities regulated by knowledge. She has a woman's age, fortune more
+than you wish, and a spotless fame. How could you fail to love her?</p>
+
+<p>"<i>You</i>, who are her chosen friend, who partake her pleasures and share
+her employments, on whom she almost exclusively bestows her society and
+confidence, and to whom she thus affords the strongest of all indirect
+proofs of impassioned esteem,&mdash;how could you, with all that firmness of
+love, joined with all that discernment of her excellence, how could you
+escape the enchantment?</p>
+
+<p>"You have not thought of marriage. You have not suspected your love.
+From the purity of your mind, from the idolatry with which this woman
+has inspired you, you have imagined no delight beyond that of enjoying
+her society as you now do, and have never fostered a hope beyond this
+privilege.</p>
+
+<p>"How quickly would this tranquillity vanish, and the true state of your
+heart be evinced, if a rival should enter the scene and be entertained
+with preference! then would the seal be removed, the spell be broken,
+and you would awaken to terror and to anguish.</p>
+
+<p>"Of this, however, there is no danger. Your passion is not felt by you
+alone. From her treatment of you, your diffidence disables you from
+seeing, but nothing can be clearer to me than that she loves you."</p>
+
+<p>I started on my feet. A flush of scorching heat flowed to every part of
+my frame. My temples began to throb like my heart. I was half delirious,
+and my delirium was strangely compounded of fear and hope, of delight
+and of terror.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you done, my friend? You have overturned my peace of mind.
+Till now the image of this woman has been followed by complacency and
+sober rapture; but your words have dashed the scene with dismay and
+confusion. You have raised up wishes, and dreams, and doubts, which
+possess me in spite of my reason, in spite of a thousand proofs.</p>
+
+<p>"Good God! You say she loves,&mdash;loves <i>me</i>!&mdash;me, a boy in age; bred in
+clownish ignorance; scarcely ushered into the world; more than
+childishly unlearned and raw; a barn-door simpleton; a plough-tail,
+kitchen-hearth, turnip-hoeing novice! She, thus splendidly endowed; thus
+allied to nobles; thus gifted with arts, and adorned with graces; that
+she should choose me, me for the partner of her fortune; her affections;
+and her life! It cannot be. Yet, if it were; if your guesses
+should&mdash;prove&mdash;Oaf! madman! To indulge so fatal a chimera! So rash a
+dream!</p>
+
+<p>"My friend! my friend! I feel that you have done me an irreparable
+injury. I can never more look her in the face. I can never more frequent
+her society. These new thoughts will beset and torment me. My disquiet
+will chain up my tongue. That overflowing gratitude; that innocent joy,
+unconscious of offence, and knowing no restraint, which have hitherto
+been my titles to her favour, will fly from my features and manners. I
+shall be anxious, vacant, and unhappy in her presence. I shall dread to
+look at her, or to open my lips, lest my mad and unhallowed ambition
+should betray itself."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," replied Stevens, "this scene is quite new. I could almost find
+it in my heart to pity you. I did not expect this; and yet, from my
+knowledge of your character, I ought, perhaps, to have foreseen it. This
+is a necessary part of the drama. A joyous certainty, on these
+occasions, must always be preceded by suspenses and doubts, and the
+close will be joyous in proportion as the preludes are excruciating. Go
+to bed, my good friend, and think of this. Time and a few more
+interviews with Mrs. Fielding will, I doubt not, set all to rights."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I went to my chamber, but what different sensations did I carry into it
+from those with which I had left it a few hours before! I stretched
+myself on the mattress and put out the light; but the swarm of new
+images that rushed on my mind set me again instantly in motion. All was
+rapid, vague, and undefined, wearying and distracting my attention. I
+was roused as by a divine voice, that said, "Sleep no more! Mervyn shall
+sleep no more."</p>
+
+<p>What chiefly occupied me was a nameless sort of terror. What shall I
+compare it to? Methinks, that one falling from a tree overhanging a
+torrent, plunged into the whirling eddy, and gasping and struggling
+while he sinks to rise no more, would feel just as I did then. Nay, some
+such image actually possessed me. Such was one of my reveries, in which
+suddenly I stretched my hand, and caught the arm of a chair. This act
+called me back to reason, or rather gave my soul opportunity to roam
+into a new track equally wild.</p>
+
+<p>Was it the abruptness of this vision that thus confounded me? was it a
+latent error in my moral constitution, which this new conjuncture drew
+forth into influence? These were all the tokens of a mind lost to
+itself; bewildered; unhinged; plunged into a drear insanity.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing less could have prompted so fantastically; for, midnight as it
+was, my chamber's solitude was not to be supported. After a few turns
+across the floor, I left the room, and the house. I walked without
+design and in a hurried pace. I posted straight to the house of Mrs.
+Fielding. I lifted the latch, but the door did not open. It was, no
+doubt, locked.</p>
+
+<p>"How comes this?" said I, and looked around me. The hour and occasion
+were unthought of. Habituated to this path, I had taken it
+spontaneously. "How comes this?" repeated I. "Locked upon <i>me</i>! but I
+will summon them, I warrant me,"&mdash;and rung the bell, not timidly or
+slightly, but with violence. Some one hastened from above. I saw the
+glimmer of a candle through the keyhole.</p>
+
+<p>"Strange," thought I; "a candle at noonday!"&mdash;The door was opened, and
+my poor Bess, robed in a careless and hasty manner, appeared. She
+started at sight of me, but merely because she did not, in a moment,
+recognise me.&mdash;"Ah! Arthur, is it you? Come in. My mamma has wanted you
+these two hours. I was just going to despatch Philip to tell you to
+come."</p>
+
+<p>"Lead me to her," said I.</p>
+
+<p>She led the way into the parlour.&mdash;"Wait a moment here; I will tell her
+you are come;"&mdash;and she tripped away.</p>
+
+<p>Presently a step was heard. The door opened again, and then entered a
+man. He was tall, elegant, sedate to a degree of sadness; something in
+his dress and aspect that bespoke the foreigner, the Frenchman.</p>
+
+<p>"What," said he, mildly, "is your business with my wife? She cannot see
+you instantly, and has sent me to receive your commands."</p>
+
+<p>"Your <i>wife</i>! I want Mrs. Fielding."</p>
+
+<p>"True; and Mrs. Fielding is my wife. Thank Heaven, I have come in time
+to discover her, and claim her as such."</p>
+
+<p>I started back. I shuddered. My joints slackened, and I stretched my
+hand to catch something by which I might be saved from sinking on the
+floor. Meanwhile, Fielding changed his countenance into rage and fury.
+He called me villain! bade me avaunt! and drew a shining steel from his
+bosom, with which he stabbed me to the heart. I sunk upon the floor, and
+all, for a time, was darkness and oblivion! At length, I returned as it
+were to life. I opened my eyes. The mists disappeared, and I found
+myself stretched upon the bed in my own chamber. I remembered the fatal
+blow I had received. I put my hand upon my breast; the spot where the
+dagger entered. There were no traces of a wound. All was perfect and
+entire. Some miracle had made me whole.</p>
+
+<p>I raised myself up. I re-examined my body. All around me was hushed,
+till a voice from the pavement below proclaimed that it was "past three
+o'clock."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" said I; "has all this miserable pageantry, this midnight
+wandering, and this ominous interview, been no more than&mdash;<i>a dream</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>It may be proper to mention, in explanation of this scene, and to show
+the thorough perturbation of my mind during this night, intelligence
+gained some days after from Eliza. She said, that about two o'clock, on
+this night, she was roused by a violent ringing of the bell. She was
+startled by so unseasonable a summons. She slept in a chamber adjoining
+Mrs. Fielding's, and hesitated whether she should alarm her friend; but,
+the summons not being repeated, she had determined to forbear.</p>
+
+<p>Added to this, was the report of Mrs. Stevens, who, on the same night,
+about half an hour after I and her husband had retired, imagined that
+she heard the street door opened and shut; but, this being followed by
+no other consequence, she supposed herself mistaken. I have little doubt
+that, in my feverish and troubled sleep, I actually went forth, posted
+to the house of Mrs. Fielding, rung for admission, and shortly after
+returned to my own apartment.</p>
+
+<p>This confusion of mind was somewhat allayed by the return of light. It
+gave way to more uniform but not less rueful and despondent perceptions.
+The image of Achsa filled my fancy, but it was the harbinger of nothing
+but humiliation and sorrow. To outroot the conviction of my own
+unworthiness, to persuade myself that I was regarded with the tenderness
+that Stevens had ascribed to her, that the discovery of my thoughts
+would not excite her anger and grief, I felt to be impossible.</p>
+
+<p>In this state of mind, I could not see her. To declare my feelings would
+produce indignation and anguish; to hide them from her scrutiny was not
+in my power; yet, what would she think of my estranging myself from her
+society? What expedient could I honestly adopt to justify my absence,
+and what employments could I substitute for those precious hours
+hitherto devoted to her?</p>
+
+<p>"<i>This</i> afternoon," thought I, "she has been invited to spend at
+Stedman's country-house on Schuylkill. She consented to go, and I was to
+accompany her. I am fit only for solitude. My behaviour, in her
+presence, will be enigmatical, capricious, and morose. I must not go:
+yet what will she think of my failure? Not to go will be injurious and
+suspicious."</p>
+
+<p>I was undetermined. The appointed hour arrived. I stood at my
+chamber-window, torn by a variety of purposes, and swayed alternately by
+repugnant arguments. I several times went to the door of my apartment,
+and put my foot upon the first step of the staircase, but as often
+paused, reconsidered, and returned to my room.</p>
+
+<p>In these fluctuations the hour passed. No messenger arrived from Mrs.
+Fielding, inquiring into the cause of my delay. Was she offended at my
+negligence? Was she sick and disabled from going, or had she changed her
+mind? I now remembered her parting words at our last interview. Were
+they not susceptible of two constructions? She said my visit was too
+long, and bade me begone. Did she suspect my presumption, and is she
+determined thus to punish me?</p>
+
+<p>This terror added anew to all my former anxieties. It was impossible to
+rest in this suspense. I would go to her; I would lay before her all the
+anguish of my heart; I would not spare myself. She shall not reproach me
+more severely than I will reproach myself. I will hear my sentence from
+her own lips, and promise unlimited submission to the doom of separation
+and exile which she will pronounce.</p>
+
+<p>I went forth to her house. The drawing-room and summer-house were empty.
+I summoned Philip the footman: his mistress was gone to Mr. Stedman's.</p>
+
+<p>"How?&mdash;To Stedman's?&mdash;In whose company?"</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Stedman and her brother called for her in the carriage, and
+persuaded her to go with them."</p>
+
+<p>Now my heart sunk, indeed! Miss Stedman's <i>brother</i>! A youth, forward,
+gallant, and gay! Flushed with prosperity, and just returned from
+Europe, with all the confidence of age, and all the ornaments of
+education! She has gone with him, though pre-engaged to me! Poor Arthur,
+how art thou despised!</p>
+
+<p>This information only heightened my impatience. I went away, but
+returned in the evening. I waited till eleven, but she came not back. I
+cannot justly paint the interval that passed till next morning. It was
+void of sleep. On leaving her house, I wandered into the fields. Every
+moment increased my impatience. "She will probably spend the morrow at
+Stedman's," said I, "and possibly the next day. Why should I wait for
+her return? Why not seek her there, and rid myself at once of this
+agonizing suspense? Why not go thither now? This night, wherever I spend
+it, will be unacquainted with repose. I will go; it is already near
+twelve, and the distance is more than eight miles. I will hover near the
+house till morning, and then, as early as possible, demand an
+interview."</p>
+
+<p>I was well acquainted with Stedman's villa, having formerly been there
+with Mrs. Fielding. I quickly entered its precincts. I went close to the
+house; looked mournfully at every window. At one of them a light was to
+be seen, and I took various stations to discover, if possible, the
+persons within. Methought once I caught a glimpse of a female, whom my
+fancy easily imagined to be Achsa. I sat down upon the lawn, some
+hundred feet from the house, and opposite the window whence the light
+proceeded. I watched it, till at length some one came to the window,
+lifted it, and, leaning on her arms, continued to look out.</p>
+
+<p>The preceding day had been a very sultry one: the night, as usual after
+such a day and the fall of a violent shower, was delightfully serene and
+pleasant. Where I stood was enlightened by the moon. Whether she saw me
+or not, I could hardly tell, or whether she distinguished any thing but
+a human figure.</p>
+
+<p>Without reflecting on what was due to decorum and punctilio, I
+immediately drew near the house. I quickly perceived that her attention
+was fixed. Neither of us spoke, till I had placed myself directly under
+her; I then opened my lips, without knowing in what manner to address
+her. She spoke first, and in a startled and anxious voice:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Who is that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Arthur Mervyn; he that was two days ago your friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Mervyn! What is it that brings you here at this hour? What is the
+matter? What has happened? Is anybody sick?"</p>
+
+<p>"All is safe; all are in good health."</p>
+
+<p>"What then do you come hither for at such an hour?"</p>
+
+<p>"I meant not to disturb you; I meant not to be seen."</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens! How you frighten me! What can be the reason of so
+strange&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Be not alarmed. I meant to hover near the house till morning, that I
+might see you as early as possible."</p>
+
+<p>"For what purpose?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you when we meet, and let that be at five o'clock; the sun
+will then be risen; in the cedar-grove under the bank; till when,
+farewell."</p>
+
+<p>Having said this, I prevented all expostulation, by turning the angle of
+the house, and hastening towards the shore of the river. I roved about
+the grove that I have mentioned. In one part of it is a rustic seat and
+table, shrouded by trees and shrubs, and an intervening eminence, from
+the view of those in the house. This I designed to be the closing scene
+of my destiny.</p>
+
+<p>Presently I left this spot, and wandered upward through embarrassed and
+obscure paths, starting forward or checking my pace, according as my
+wayward meditations governed me. Shall I describe my thoughts?
+Impossible! It was certainly a temporary loss of reason; nothing less
+than madness could lead into such devious tracks, drag me down to so
+hopeless, helpless, panicful a depth, and drag me down so suddenly; lay
+waste, as at a signal, all my flourishing structures, and reduce them in
+a moment to a scene of confusion and horror.</p>
+
+<p>What did I fear? What did I hope? What did I design? I cannot tell; my
+glooms were to retire with the night. The point to which every
+tumultuous feeling was linked was the coming interview with Achsa. That
+was the boundary of fluctuation and suspense. Here was the sealing and
+ratification of my doom.</p>
+
+<p>I rent a passage through the thicket, and struggled upward till I
+reached the edge of a considerable precipice; I laid me down at my
+length upon the rock, whose cold and hard surface I pressed with my
+bared and throbbing breast. I leaned over the edge; fixed my eyes upon
+the water and wept&mdash;plentifully; but why?</p>
+
+<p>May <i>this</i> be my heart's last beat, if I can tell why?</p>
+
+<p>I had wandered so far from Stedman's, that, when roused by the light, I
+had some miles to walk before I could reach the place of meeting. Achsa
+was already there. I slid down the rock above, and appeared before her.
+Well might she be startled at my wild and abrupt appearance.</p>
+
+<p>I placed myself, without uttering a word, upon a seat opposite to her,
+the table between, and, crossing my arms upon the table, leaned my head
+upon them, while my face was turned towards and my eyes fixed upon hers.
+I seemed to have lost the power and the inclination to speak.</p>
+
+<p>She regarded me, at first, with anxious curiosity; after examining my
+looks, every emotion was swallowed up in terrified sorrow. "For God's
+sake!&mdash;what does all this mean? Why am I called to this place? What
+tidings, what fearful tidings, do you bring?"</p>
+
+<p>I did not change my posture or speak. "What," she resumed, "could
+inspire all this woe? Keep me not in this suspense, Arthur; these looks
+and this silence shock and afflict me too much."</p>
+
+<p>"Afflict you?" said I, at last; "I come to tell you what, now that I am
+here, I cannot tell&mdash;&mdash;" There I stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Say what, I entreat you. You seem to be very unhappy&mdash;such a
+change&mdash;from yesterday!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes! From yesterday; all then was a joyous calm, and now all is&mdash;but
+then I knew not my infamy, my guilt&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What words are these, and from you, Arthur? Guilt is to you impossible.
+If purity is to be found on earth, it is lodged in your heart. What have
+you done?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have dared&mdash;how little you expect the extent of my daring! That such
+as I should look upwards with this ambition."</p>
+
+<p>I stood up, and taking her hands in mine, as she sat, looked earnestly
+in her face:&mdash;"I come only to beseech your pardon. To tell you my crime,
+and then disappear forever; but first let me see if there be any omen of
+forgiveness. Your looks&mdash;they are kind; heavenly; compassionate still. I
+will trust them, I believe; and yet" (letting go her hands, and turning
+away) "this offence is beyond the reach even of <i>your</i> mercy."</p>
+
+<p>"How beyond measure these words and this deportment distress me! Let me
+know the worst; I cannot bear to be thus perplexed."</p>
+
+<p>"Why," said I, turning quickly round and again taking her hands, "that
+Mervyn, whom you have honoured and confided in, and blessed with your
+sweet regards, has been&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What has he been? Divinely amiable, heroic in his virtue, I am sure.
+What else has he been?"</p>
+
+<p>"This Mervyn has imagined, has dared&mdash;will you forgive him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive you what? Why don't you speak? Keep not my soul in this
+suspense."</p>
+
+<p>"He has dared&mdash;But do not think that I am he. Continue to look as now,
+and reserve your killing glances, the vengeance of those eyes, as for
+one that is absent.&mdash;&mdash;Why, what&mdash;you weep, then, at last. That is a
+propitious sign. When pity drops from the eyes of our judge, then should
+the suppliant approach. Now, in confidence of pardon, I will tell you;
+this Mervyn, not content with all you have hitherto granted him, has
+dared&mdash;to <i>love</i> you; nay, to think of you as of <i>his wife</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Her eye sunk beneath mine, and, disengaging her hands, she covered her
+face with them.</p>
+
+<p>"I see my fate," said I, in a tone of despair. "Too well did I predict
+the effect of this confession; but I will go&mdash;<i>and unforgiven</i>."</p>
+
+<p>She now partly uncovered her face. The hand was withdrawn from her
+cheek, and stretched towards me. She looked at me.</p>
+
+<p>"Arthur! I <i>do</i> forgive thee."&mdash;With what accents was this uttered! With
+what looks! The cheek that was before pale with terror was now crimsoned
+over by a different emotion, and delight swam in her eye.</p>
+
+<p>Could I mistake? My doubts, my new-born fears, made me tremble while I
+took the offered hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely," faltered I, "I am not&mdash;I cannot be&mdash;so blessed."</p>
+
+<p>There was no need of words. The hand that I held was sufficiently
+eloquent. She was still silent.</p>
+
+<p>"Surely," said I, "my senses deceive me. A bliss like this cannot be
+reserved for me. Tell me once more&mdash;set my doubting heart at rest."</p>
+
+<p>She now gave herself to my arms:&mdash;"I have not words&mdash;Let your own heart
+tell you, you have made your Achsa&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>At this moment, a voice from without (it was Miss Stedman's) called,
+"Mrs. Fielding! where are you?"</p>
+
+<p>My friend started up, and, in a hasty voice, bade me begone. "You must
+not be seen by this giddy girl. Come hither this evening, as if by my
+appointment, and I will return with you."&mdash;She left me in a kind of
+trance. I was immovable. My reverie was too delicious;&mdash;but let me not
+attempt the picture. If I can convey no image of my state previous to
+this interview, my subsequent feelings are still more beyond the reach
+of my powers to describe.</p>
+
+<p>Agreeably to the commands of my mistress, I hastened away, evading paths
+which might expose me to observation. I speedily made my friends partake
+of my joy, and passed the day in a state of solemn but confused rapture.
+I did not accurately portray the various parts of my felicity. The whole
+rushed upon my soul at once. My conceptions were too rapid and too
+comprehensive to be distinct.</p>
+
+<p>I went to Stedman's in the evening. I found in the accents and looks of
+my Achsa new assurances that all which had lately passed was more than a
+dream. She made excuses for leaving the Stedmans sooner than ordinary,
+and was accompanied to the city by her friend. We dropped Mrs. Fielding
+at her own house, and thither, after accompanying Miss Stedman to her
+own home, I returned upon the wings of tremulous impatience.</p>
+
+<p>Now could I repeat every word of every conversation that has since taken
+place between us; but why should I do that on paper? Indeed, it could
+not be done. All is of equal value, and all could not be comprised but
+in many volumes. There needs nothing more deeply to imprint it on my
+memory; and, while thus reviewing the past, I should be iniquitously
+neglecting the present. What is given to the pen would be taken from
+her; and that, indeed, would be&mdash;but no need of saying what it would be,
+since it is impossible.</p>
+
+<p>I merely write to allay these tumults which our necessary separation
+produces; to aid me in calling up a little patience till the time
+arrives when our persons, like our minds, shall be united forever. That
+time&mdash;may nothing happen to prevent&mdash;but nothing can happen. But why
+this ominous misgiving just now? My love has infected me with these
+unworthy terrors, for she has them too.</p>
+
+<p>This morning I was relating my dream to her. She started, and grew pale.
+A sad silence ensued the cheerfulness that had reigned before:&mdash;"Why
+thus dejected, my friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hate your dream. It is a horrid thought. Would to God it had never
+occurred to you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, surely, you place no confidence in dreams?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know not where to place confidence; not in my present promises of
+joy,"&mdash;and she wept. I endeavoured to soothe or console her. Why, I
+asked, did she weep?</p>
+
+<p>"My heart is sore. Former disappointments were so heavy; the hopes which
+were blasted were so like my present ones, that the dread of a like
+result will intrude upon my thoughts. And now your dream! Indeed, I know
+not what to do. I believe I ought still to retract&mdash;ought, at least, to
+postpone an act so irrevocable."</p>
+
+<p>Now was I obliged again to go over my catalogue of arguments to induce
+her to confirm her propitious resolution to be mine within the week. I,
+at last, succeeded, even in restoring her serenity, and beguiling her
+fears by dwelling on our future happiness.</p>
+
+<p>Our household, while we stayed in America,&mdash;in a year or two we hie to
+Europe,&mdash;should be <i>thus</i> composed. Fidelity, and skill, and pure
+morals, should be sought out, and enticed, by generous recompenses, into
+our domestic service. Duties which should be light and regular.&mdash;Such
+and such should be our amusements and employments abroad and at home:
+and would not this be true happiness?</p>
+
+<p>"Oh yes&mdash;if it may be so."</p>
+
+<p>"It shall be so; but this is but the humble outline of the scene;
+something is still to be added to complete our felicity."</p>
+
+<p>"What more can be added?"</p>
+
+<p>"What more? Can Achsa ask what more? She who has not been <i>only</i> a
+wife&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But why am I indulging this pen-prattle? The hour she fixed for my
+return to her is come, and now take thyself away, quill. Lie there, snug
+in thy leathern case, till I call for thee, and that will not be very
+soon. I believe I will abjure thy company till all is settled with my
+love. Yes; I <i>will</i> abjure thee; so let <i>this</i> be thy last office, till
+Mervyn has been made the happiest of men.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">THE END.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arthur Mervyn, by Charles Brockden Brown
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Arthur Mervyn, by Charles Brockden Brown
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Arthur Mervyn
+ Or, Memoirs of the Year 1793
+
+Author: Charles Brockden Brown
+
+Release Date: June 5, 2006 [EBook #18508]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARTHUR MERVYN ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Graeme Mackreth and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ARTHUR MERVYN;
+
+OR,
+
+MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 1793.
+
+BY
+
+CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWN.
+
+"Fielding, Richardson, and Scott occupied pedestals. In a niche was
+deposited the bust of our countryman, the author of 'Arthur Mervyn.'"
+
+NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
+
+PHILADELPHIA: DAVID McKAY, PUBLISHER,
+
+23 SOUTH NINTH STREET. 1889.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+The evils of pestilence by which this city has lately been afflicted
+will probably form an era in its history. The schemes of reformation and
+improvement to which they will give birth, or, if no efforts of human
+wisdom can avail to avert the periodical visitations of this calamity,
+the change in manners and population which they will produce, will be,
+in the highest degree, memorable. They have already supplied new and
+copious materials for reflection to the physician and the political
+economist. They have not been less fertile of instruction to the moral
+observer, to whom they have furnished new displays of the influence of
+human passions and motives.
+
+Amidst the medical and political discussions which are now afloat in the
+community relative to this topic, the author of these remarks has
+ventured to methodize his own reflections, and to weave into an humble
+narrative such incidents as appeared to him most instructive and
+remarkable among those which came within the sphere of his own
+observation. It is every one's duty to profit by all opportunities of
+inculcating on mankind the lessons of justice and humanity. The
+influences of hope and fear, the trials of fortitude and constancy,
+which took place in this city in the autumn of 1793, have, perhaps,
+never been exceeded in any age. It is but just to snatch some of these
+from oblivion, and to deliver to posterity a brief but faithful sketch
+of the condition of this metropolis during that calamitous period. Men
+only require to be made acquainted with distress for their compassion
+and their charity to be awakened. He that depicts, in lively colours,
+the evils of disease and poverty, performs an eminent service to the
+sufferers, by calling forth benevolence in those who are able to afford
+relief; and he who portrays examples of disinterestedness and
+intrepidity confers on virtue the notoriety and homage that are due to
+it, and rouses in the spectators the spirit of salutary emulation.
+
+In the following tale a particular series of adventures is brought to a
+close; but these are necessarily connected with the events which
+happened subsequent to the period here described. These events are not
+less memorable than those which form the subject of the present volume,
+and may hereafter be published, either separately or in addition to
+this.
+
+C.B.B.
+
+
+
+
+ARTHUR MERVYN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+I was resident in this city during the year 1793. Many motives
+contributed to detain me, though departure was easy and commodious, and
+my friends were generally solicitous for me to go. It is not my purpose
+to enumerate these motives, or to dwell on my present concerns and
+transactions, but merely to compose a narrative of some incidents with
+which my situation made me acquainted.
+
+Returning one evening, somewhat later than usual, to my own house, my
+attention was attracted, just as I entered the porch, by the figure of a
+man reclining against the wall at a few paces distant. My sight was
+imperfectly assisted by a far-off lamp; but the posture in which he sat,
+the hour, and the place, immediately suggested the idea of one disabled
+by sickness. It was obvious to conclude that his disease was
+pestilential. This did not deter me from approaching and examining him
+more closely.
+
+He leaned his head against the wall; his eyes were shut, his hands
+clasped in each other, and his body seemed to be sustained in an upright
+position merely by the cellar-door against which he rested his left
+shoulder. The lethargy into which he was sunk seemed scarcely
+interrupted by my feeling his hand and his forehead. His throbbing
+temples and burning skin indicated a fever, and his form, already
+emaciated, seemed to prove that it had not been of short duration.
+
+There was only one circumstance that hindered me from forming an
+immediate determination in what manner this person should be treated.
+My family consisted of my wife and a young child. Our servant-maid had
+been seized, three days before, by the reigning malady, and, at her own
+request, had been conveyed to the hospital. We ourselves enjoyed good
+health, and were hopeful of escaping with our lives. Our measures for
+this end had been cautiously taken and carefully adhered to. They did
+not consist in avoiding the receptacles of infection, for my office
+required me to go daily into the midst of them; nor in filling the house
+with the exhalations of gunpowder, vinegar, or tar. They consisted in
+cleanliness, reasonable exercise, and wholesome diet. Custom had
+likewise blunted the edge of our apprehensions. To take this person into
+my house, and bestow upon him the requisite attendance, was the scheme
+that first occurred to me. In this, however, the advice of my wife was
+to govern me.
+
+I mentioned the incident to her. I pointed out the danger which was to
+be dreaded from such an inmate. I desired her to decide with caution,
+and mentioned my resolution to conform myself implicitly to her
+decision. Should we refuse to harbour him, we must not forget that there
+was a hospital to which he would, perhaps, consent to be carried, and
+where he would be accommodated in the best manner the times would admit.
+
+"Nay," said she, "talk not of hospitals. At least, let him have his
+choice. I have no fear about me, for my part, in a case where the
+injunctions of duty are so obvious. Let us take the poor, unfortunate
+wretch into our protection and care, and leave the consequences to
+Heaven."
+
+I expected and was pleased with this proposal. I returned to the sick
+man, and, on rousing him from his stupor, found him still in possession
+of his reason. With a candle near, I had an opportunity of viewing him
+more accurately.
+
+His garb was plain, careless, and denoted rusticity. His aspect was
+simple and ingenuous, and his decayed visage still retained traces of
+uncommon but manlike beauty. He had all the appearances of mere youth,
+unspoiled by luxury and uninured to misfortune. I scarcely ever beheld
+an object which laid so powerful and sudden a claim to my affection and
+succour.
+
+"You are sick," said I, in as cheerful a tone as I could assume. "Cold
+bricks and night-airs are comfortless attendants for one in your
+condition. Rise, I pray you, and come into the house. We will try to
+supply you with accommodations a little more suitable."
+
+At this address he fixed his languid eyes upon me. "What would you
+have?" said he. "I am very well as I am. While I breathe, which will not
+be long, I shall breathe with more freedom here than elsewhere. Let me
+alone--I am very well as I am."
+
+"Nay," said I, "this situation is unsuitable to a sick man. I only ask
+you to come into my house, and receive all the kindness that it is in
+our power to bestow. Pluck up courage, and I will answer for your
+recovery, provided you submit to directions, and do as we would have
+you. Rise, and come along with me. We will find you a physician and a
+nurse, and all we ask in return is good spirits and compliance."
+
+"Do you not know," he replied, "what my disease is? Why should you risk
+your safety for the sake of one whom your kindness cannot benefit, and
+who has nothing to give in return?"
+
+There was something in the style of this remark, that heightened my
+prepossession in his favour, and made me pursue my purpose with more
+zeal. "Let us try what we can do for you," I answered. "If we save your
+life, we shall have done you some service, and, as for recompense, we
+will look to that."
+
+It was with considerable difficulty that he was persuaded to accept our
+invitation. He was conducted to a chamber, and, the criticalness of his
+case requiring unusual attention, I spent the night at his bedside.
+
+My wife was encumbered with the care both of her infant and her family.
+The charming babe was in perfect health, but her mother's constitution
+was frail and delicate. We simplified the household duties as much as
+possible, but still these duties were considerably burdensome to one not
+used to the performance, and luxuriously educated. The addition of a
+sick man was likely to be productive of much fatigue. My engagements
+would not allow me to be always at home, and the state of my patient,
+and the remedies necessary to be prescribed, were attended with many
+noxious and disgustful circumstances. My fortune would not allow me to
+hire assistance. My wife, with a feeble frame and a mind shrinking, on
+ordinary occasions, from such offices, with fastidious scrupulousness,
+was to be his only or principal nurse.
+
+My neighbours were fervent in their well-meant zeal, and loud in their
+remonstrances on the imprudence and rashness of my conduct. They called
+me presumptuous and cruel in exposing my wife and child, as well as
+myself, to such imminent hazard, for the sake of one, too, who most
+probably was worthless, and whose disease had doubtless been, by
+negligence or mistreatment, rendered incurable.
+
+I did not turn a deaf ear to these censurers. I was aware of all the
+inconveniences and perils to which I thus spontaneously exposed myself.
+No one knew better the value of that woman whom I called mine, or set a
+higher price upon her life, her health, and her ease. The virulence and
+activity of this contagion, the dangerous condition of my patient, and
+the dubiousness of his character, were not forgotten by me; but still my
+conduct in this affair received my own entire approbation. All
+objections on the score of my friends were removed by her own
+willingness and even solicitude to undertake the province. I had more
+confidence than others in the vincibility of this disease, and in the
+success of those measures which we had used for our defence against it.
+But, whatever were the evils to accrue to us, we were sure of one thing:
+namely, that the consciousness of having neglected this unfortunate
+person would be a source of more unhappiness than could possibly redound
+from the attendance and care that he would claim.
+
+The more we saw of him, indeed, the more did we congratulate ourselves
+on our proceeding. His torments were acute and tedious; but, in the
+midst even of delirium, his heart seemed to overflow with gratitude, and
+to be actuated by no wish but to alleviate our toil and our danger. He
+made prodigious exertions to perform necessary offices for himself. He
+suppressed his feelings and struggled to maintain a cheerful tone and
+countenance, that he might prevent that anxiety which the sight of his
+sufferings produced in us. He was perpetually furnishing reasons why his
+nurse should leave him alone, and betrayed dissatisfaction whenever she
+entered his apartment.
+
+In a few days, there were reasons to conclude him out of danger; and, in
+a fortnight, nothing but exercise and nourishment were wanting to
+complete his restoration. Meanwhile nothing was obtained from him but
+general information, that his place of abode was Chester county, and
+that some momentous engagement induced him to hazard his safety by
+coming to the city in the height of the epidemic.
+
+He was far from being talkative. His silence seemed to be the joint
+result of modesty and unpleasing remembrances. His features were
+characterized by pathetic seriousness, and his deportment by a gravity
+very unusual at his age. According to his own representation, he was no
+more than eighteen years old, but the depth of his remarks indicated a
+much greater advance. His name was Arthur Mervyn. He described himself
+as having passed his life at the plough-tail and the threshing-floor; as
+being destitute of all scholastic instruction; and as being long since
+bereft of the affectionate regards of parents and kinsmen.
+
+When questioned as to the course of life which he meant to pursue upon
+his recovery, he professed himself without any precise object. He was
+willing to be guided by the advice of others, and by the lights which
+experience should furnish. The country was open to him, and he supposed
+that there was no part of it in which food could not be purchased by his
+labour. He was unqualified, by his education, for any liberal
+profession. His poverty was likewise an insuperable impediment. He could
+afford to spend no time in the acquisition of a trade. He must labour,
+not for future emolument, but for immediate subsistence. The only
+pursuit which his present circumstances would allow him to adopt was
+that which, he was inclined to believe, was likewise the most eligible.
+Without doubt his experience was slender, and it seemed absurd to
+pronounce concerning that of which he had no direct knowledge; but so it
+was, he could not outroot from his mind the persuasion that to plough,
+to sow, and to reap, were employments most befitting a reasonable
+creature, and from which the truest pleasure and the least pollution
+would flow. He contemplated no other scheme than to return, as soon as
+his health should permit, into the country, seek employment where it was
+to be had, and acquit himself in his engagements with fidelity and
+diligence.
+
+I pointed out to him various ways in which the city might furnish
+employment to one with his qualifications. He had said that he was
+somewhat accustomed to the pen. There were stations in which the
+possession of a legible hand was all that was requisite. He might add to
+this a knowledge of accounts, and thereby procure himself a post in some
+mercantile or public office.
+
+To this he objected, that experience had shown him unfit for the life of
+a penman. This had been his chief occupation for a little while, and he
+found it wholly incompatible with his health. He must not sacrifice the
+end for the means. Starving was a disease preferable to consumption.
+Besides, he laboured merely for the sake of living, and he lived merely
+for the sake of pleasure. If his tasks should enable him to live, but,
+at the same time, bereave him of all satisfaction, they inflicted
+injury, and were to be shunned as worse evils than death.
+
+I asked to what species of pleasure he alluded, with which the business
+of a clerk was inconsistent.
+
+He answered that he scarcely knew how to describe it. He read books when
+they came in his way. He had lighted upon few, and, perhaps, the
+pleasure they afforded him was owing to their fewness; yet he confessed
+that a mode of life which entirely forbade him to read was by no means
+to his taste. But this was trivial. He knew how to value the thoughts of
+other people, but he could not part with the privilege of observing and
+thinking for himself. He wanted business which would suffer at least
+nine-tenths of his attention to go free. If it afforded agreeable
+employment to that part of his attention which it applied to its own
+use, so much the better; but, if it did not, he should not repine. He
+should be content with a life whose pleasures were to its pains as nine
+are to one. He had tried the trade of a copyist, and in circumstances
+more favourable than it was likely he should ever again have an
+opportunity of trying it, and he had found that it did not fulfil the
+requisite conditions. Whereas the trade of ploughman was friendly to
+health, liberty, and pleasure.
+
+The pestilence, if it may so be called, was now declining. The health of
+my young friend allowed him to breathe the fresh air and to walk. A
+friend of mine, by name Wortley, who had spent two months from the city,
+and to whom, in the course of a familiar correspondence, I had mentioned
+the foregoing particulars, returned from his rural excursion. He was
+posting, on the evening of the day of his arrival, with a friendly
+expedition, to my house, when he overtook Mervyn going in the same
+direction. He was surprised to find him go before him into my dwelling,
+and to discover, which he speedily did, that this was the youth whom I
+had so frequently mentioned to him. I was present at their meeting.
+
+There was a strange mixture in the countenance of Wortley when they were
+presented to each other. His satisfaction was mingled with surprise, and
+his surprise with anger. Mervyn, in his turn, betrayed considerable
+embarrassment. Wortley's thoughts were too earnest on some topic to
+allow him to converse. He shortly made some excuse for taking leave,
+and, rising, addressed himself to the youth with a request that he would
+walk home with him. This invitation, delivered in a tone which left it
+doubtful whether a compliment or menace were meant, augmented Mervyn's
+confusion. He complied without speaking, and they went out together;--my
+wife and I were left to comment upon the scene.
+
+It could not fail to excite uneasiness. They were evidently no strangers
+to each other. The indignation that flashed from the eyes of Wortley,
+and the trembling consciousness of Mervyn, were unwelcome tokens. The
+former was my dearest friend, and venerable for his discernment and
+integrity. The latter appeared to have drawn upon himself the anger and
+disdain of this man. We already anticipated the shock which the
+discovery of his unworthiness would produce.
+
+In a half-hour Mervyn returned. His embarrassment had given place to
+dejection. He was always serious, but his features were now overcast by
+the deepest gloom. The anxiety which I felt would not allow me to
+hesitate long.
+
+"Arthur," said I, "something is the matter with you. Will you not
+disclose it to us? Perhaps you have brought yourself into some dilemma
+out of which we may help you to escape. Has any thing of an unpleasant
+nature passed between you and Wortley?"
+
+The youth did not readily answer. He seemed at a loss for a suitable
+reply. At length he said that something disagreeable had indeed passed
+between him and Wortley. He had had the misfortune to be connected with
+a man by whom Wortley conceived himself to be injured. He had borne no
+part in inflicting this injury, but had nevertheless been threatened
+with ill treatment if he did not make disclosures which, indeed, it was
+in his power to make, but which he was bound, by every sanction, to
+withhold. This disclosure would be of no benefit to Wortley. It would
+rather operate injuriously than otherwise; yet it was endeavoured to be
+wrested from him by the heaviest menaces. There he paused.
+
+We were naturally inquisitive as to the scope of these menaces; but
+Mervyn entreated us to forbear any further discussion of this topic. He
+foresaw the difficulties to which his silence would subject him. One of
+its most fearful consequences would be the loss of our good opinion. He
+knew not what he had to dread from the enmity of Wortley. Mr. Wortley's
+violence was not without excuse. It was his mishap to be exposed to
+suspicions which could only be obviated by breaking his faith. But,
+indeed, he knew not whether any degree of explicitness would confute the
+charges that were made against him; whether, by trampling on his sacred
+promise, he should not multiply his perils instead of lessening their
+number. A difficult part had been assigned to him; by much too
+difficult for one young, improvident, and inexperienced as he was.
+
+Sincerity, perhaps, was the best course. Perhaps, after having had an
+opportunity for deliberation, he should conclude to adopt it; meanwhile
+he entreated permission to retire to his chamber. He was unable to
+exclude from his mind ideas which yet could, with no propriety, at least
+at present, be made the theme of conversation.
+
+These words were accompanied with simplicity and pathos, and with tokens
+of unaffected distress.
+
+"Arthur," said I, "you are master of your actions and time in this
+house. Retire when you please; but you will naturally suppose us anxious
+to dispel this mystery. Whatever shall tend to obscure or malign your
+character will of course excite our solicitude. Wortley is not
+short-sighted or hasty to condemn. So great is my confidence in his
+integrity that I will not promise my esteem to one who has irrecoverably
+lost that of Wortley. I am not acquainted with your motives to
+concealment, or what it is you conceal; but take the word of one who
+possesses that experience which you complain of wanting, that sincerity
+is always safest."
+
+As soon as he had retired, my curiosity prompted me to pay an immediate
+visit to Wortley. I found him at home. He was no less desirous of an
+interview, and answered my inquiries with as much eagerness as they were
+made.
+
+"You know," said he, "my disastrous connection with Thomas Welbeck. You
+recollect his sudden disappearance last July, by which I was reduced to
+the brink of ruin. Nay, I am, even now, far from certain that I shall
+survive that event. I spoke to you about the youth who lived with him,
+and by what means that youth was discovered to have crossed the river in
+his company on the night of his departure. This is that very youth.
+
+"This will account for my emotion at meeting him at your house; I
+brought him out with me. His confusion sufficiently indicated his
+knowledge of transactions between Welbeck and me. I questioned him as to
+the fate of that man. To own the truth, I expected some well-digested
+lie; but he merely said that he had promised secrecy on that subject,
+and must therefore be excused from giving me any information. I asked
+him if he knew that his master, or accomplice, or whatever was his
+relation to him, absconded in my debt? He answered that he knew it well;
+but still pleaded a promise of inviolable secrecy as to his
+hiding-place. This conduct justly exasperated me, and I treated him with
+the severity which he deserved. I am half ashamed to confess the
+excesses of my passion; I even went so far as to strike him. He bore my
+insults with the utmost patience. No doubt the young villain is well
+instructed in his lesson. He knows that he may safely defy my power.
+From threats I descended to entreaties. I even endeavoured to wind the
+truth from him by artifice. I promised him a part of the debt if he
+would enable me to recover the whole. I offered him a considerable
+reward if he would merely afford me a clue by which I might trace him to
+his retreat; but all was insufficient. He merely put on an air of
+perplexity and shook his head in token of non-compliance."
+
+Such was my friend's account of this interview. His suspicions were
+unquestionably plausible; but I was disposed to put a more favourable
+construction on Mervyn's behaviour. I recollected the desolate and
+penniless condition in which I found him, and the uniform complacency
+and rectitude of his deportment for the period during which we had
+witnessed it. These ideas had considerable influence on my judgment, and
+indisposed me to follow the advice of my friend, which was to turn him
+forth from my doors that very night.
+
+My wife's prepossessions were still more powerful advocates of this
+youth. She would vouch, she said, before any tribunal, for his
+innocence; but she willingly concurred with me in allowing him the
+continuance of our friendship on no other condition than that of a
+disclosure of the truth. To entitle ourselves to this confidence we were
+willing to engage, in our turn, for the observance of secrecy, so far
+that no detriment should accrue from this disclosure to himself or his
+friend.
+
+Next morning, at breakfast, our guest appeared with a countenance less
+expressive of embarrassment than on the last evening. His attention was
+chiefly engaged by his own thoughts, and little was said till the
+breakfast was removed. I then reminded him of the incidents of the
+former day, and mentioned that the uneasiness which thence arose to us
+had rather been increased than diminished by time.
+
+"It is in your power, my young friend," continued I, "to add still more
+to this uneasiness, or to take it entirely away. I had no personal
+acquaintance with Thomas Welbeck. I have been informed by others that
+his character, for a certain period, was respectable, but that, at
+length, he contracted large debts, and, instead of paying them,
+absconded. You, it seems, lived with him. On the night of his departure
+you are known to have accompanied him across the river, and this, it
+seems, is the first of your reappearance on the stage. Welbeck's conduct
+was dishonest. He ought doubtless to be pursued to his asylum and be
+compelled to refund his winnings. You confess yourself to know his place
+of refuge, but urge a promise of secrecy. Know you not that to assist or
+connive at the escape of this man was wrong? To have promised to favour
+his concealment and impunity by silence was only an aggravation of this
+wrong. That, however, is past. Your youth, and circumstances, hitherto
+unexplained, may apologize for that misconduct; but it is certainly your
+duty to repair it to the utmost of your power. Think whether, by
+disclosing what you know, you will not repair it."
+
+"I have spent most of last night," said the youth, "in reflecting on
+this subject. I had come to a resolution, before you spoke, of confiding
+to you my simple tale. I perceive in what circumstances I am placed, and
+that I can keep my hold of your good opinion only by a candid
+deportment. I have indeed given a promise which it was wrong, or rather
+absurd, in another to exact, and in me to give; yet none but
+considerations of the highest importance would persuade me to break my
+promise. No injury will accrue from my disclosure to Welbeck. If there
+should, dishonest as he was, that would be a sufficient reason for my
+silence. Wortley will not, in any degree, be benefited by any
+communication that I can make. Whether I grant or withhold information,
+my conduct will have influence only on my own happiness, and that
+influence will justify me in granting it.
+
+"I received your protection when I was friendless and forlorn. You have
+a right to know whom it is that you protected. My own fate is connected
+with the fate of Welbeck, and that connection, together with the
+interest you are pleased to take in my concerns, because they are mine,
+will render a tale worthy of attention which will not be recommended by
+variety of facts or skill in the display of them.
+
+"Wortley, though passionate, and, with regard to me, unjust, may yet be
+a good man; but I have no desire to make him one of my auditors. You,
+sir, may, if you think proper, relate to him afterwards what particulars
+concerning Welbeck it may be of importance for him to know; but at
+present it will be well if your indulgence shall support me to the end
+of a tedious but humble tale."
+
+The eyes of my Eliza sparkled with delight at this proposal. She
+regarded this youth with a sisterly affection, and considered his
+candour, in this respect, as an unerring test of his rectitude. She was
+prepared to hear and to forgive the errors of inexperience and
+precipitation. I did not fully participate in her satisfaction, but was
+nevertheless most zealously disposed to listen to his narrative.
+
+My engagements obliged me to postpone this rehearsal till late in the
+evening. Collected then round a cheerful hearth, exempt from all
+likelihood of interruption from without, and our babe's unpractised
+senses shut up in the sweetest and profoundest sleep, Mervyn, after a
+pause of recollection, began.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+My natal soil is Chester county. My father had a small farm, on which he
+has been able, by industry, to maintain himself and a numerous family.
+He has had many children, but some defect in the constitution of our
+mother has been fatal to all of them but me. They died successively as
+they attained the age of nineteen or twenty, and, since I have not yet
+reached that age, I may reasonably look for the same premature fate. In
+the spring of last year my mother followed her fifth child to the grave,
+and three months afterwards died herself.
+
+My constitution has always been frail, and, till the death of my mother,
+I enjoyed unlimited indulgence. I cheerfully sustained my portion of
+labour, for that necessity prescribed; but the intervals were always at
+my own disposal, and, in whatever manner I thought proper to employ
+them, my plans were encouraged and assisted. Fond appellations, tones of
+mildness, solicitous attendance when I was sick, deference to my
+opinions, and veneration for my talents, compose the image which I still
+retain of my mother. I had the thoughtlessness and presumption of youth,
+and, now that she is gone, my compunction is awakened by a thousand
+recollections of my treatment of her. I was indeed guilty of no flagrant
+acts of contempt or rebellion. Perhaps her deportment was inevitably
+calculated to instil into me a froward and refractory spirit. My faults,
+however, were speedily followed by repentance, and, in the midst of
+impatience and passion, a look of tender upbraiding from her was always
+sufficient to melt me into tears and make me ductile to her will. If
+sorrow for her loss be an atonement for the offences which I committed
+during her life, ample atonement has been made.
+
+My father is a man of slender capacity, but of a temper easy and
+flexible. He was sober and industrious by habit. He was content to be
+guided by the superior intelligence of his wife. Under this guidance he
+prospered; but, when that was withdrawn, his affairs soon began to
+betray marks of unskilfulness and negligence. My understanding, perhaps,
+qualified me to counsel and assist my father, but I was wholly
+unaccustomed to the task of superintendence. Besides, gentleness and
+fortitude did not descend to me from my mother, and these were
+indispensable attributes in a boy who desires to dictate to his
+gray-headed parent. Time, perhaps, might have conferred dexterity on me,
+or prudence on him, had not a most unexpected event given a different
+direction to my views.
+
+Betty Lawrence was a wild girl from the pine-forests of New Jersey. At
+the age of ten years she became a bound servant in this city, and, after
+the expiration of her time, came into my father's neighbourhood in
+search of employment. She was hired in our family as milkmaid and
+market-woman. Her features were coarse, her frame robust, her mind
+totally unlettered, and her morals defective in that point in which
+female excellence is supposed chiefly to consist. She possessed
+super-abundant health and good-humour, and was quite a supportable
+companion in the hay-field or the barnyard.
+
+On the death of my mother, she was exalted to a somewhat higher station.
+The same tasks fell to her lot; but the time and manner of performing
+them were, in some degree, submitted to her own choice. The cows and the
+dairy were still her province; but in this no one interfered with her or
+pretended to prescribe her measures. For this province she seemed not
+unqualified, and, as long as my father was pleased with her management,
+I had nothing to object.
+
+This state of things continued, without material variation, for several
+months. There were appearances in my father's deportment to Betty, which
+excited my reflections, but not my fears. The deference which was
+occasionally paid to the advice or the claims of this girl was accounted
+for by that feebleness of mind which degraded my father, in whatever
+scene he should be placed, to be the tool of others. I had no conception
+that her claims extended beyond a temporary or superficial
+gratification.
+
+At length, however, a visible change took place in her manners. A
+scornful affectation and awkward dignity began to be assumed. A greater
+attention was paid to dress, which was of gayer hues and more
+fashionable texture. I rallied her on these tokens of a sweetheart, and
+amused myself with expatiating to her on the qualifications of her
+lover. A clownish fellow was frequently her visitant. His attentions did
+not appear to be discouraged. He therefore was readily supposed to be
+the man. When pointed out as the favourite, great resentment was
+expressed, and obscure insinuations were made that her aim was not quite
+so low as that. These denials I supposed to be customary on such
+occasions, and considered the continuance of his visits as a sufficient
+confutation of them.
+
+I frequently spoke of Betty, her newly-acquired dignity, and of the
+probable cause of her change of manners, to my father. When this theme
+was started, a certain coldness and reserve overspread his features. He
+dealt in monosyllables, and either laboured to change the subject or
+made some excuse for leaving me. This behaviour, though it occasioned
+surprise, was never very deeply reflected on. My father was old, and the
+mournful impressions which were made upon him by the death of his wife,
+the lapse of almost half a year seemed scarcely to have weakened. Betty
+had chosen her partner, and I was in daily expectation of receiving a
+summons to the wedding.
+
+One afternoon this girl dressed herself in the gayest manner and seemed
+making preparations for some momentous ceremony. My father had directed
+me to put the horse to the chaise. On my inquiring whither he was going,
+he answered me, in general terms, that he had some business at a few
+miles' distance. I offered to go in his stead, but he said that was
+impossible. I was proceeding to ascertain the possibility of this when
+he left me to go to a field where his workmen were busy, directing me to
+inform him when the chaise was ready, to supply his place, while
+absent, in overlooking the workmen.
+
+This office was performed; but before I called him from the field I
+exchanged a few words with the milkmaid, who sat on a bench, in all the
+primness of expectation, and decked with the most gaudy plumage. I rated
+her imaginary lover for his tardiness, and vowed eternal hatred to them
+both for not making me a bride's attendant. She listened to me with an
+air in which embarrassment was mingled sometimes with exultation and
+sometimes with malice. I left her at length, and returned to the house
+not till a late hour. As soon as I entered, my father presented Betty to
+me as his wife, and desired she might receive that treatment from me
+which was due to a mother.
+
+It was not till after repeated and solemn declarations from both of them
+that I was prevailed upon to credit this event. Its effect upon my
+feelings may be easily conceived. I knew the woman to be rude, ignorant,
+and licentious. Had I suspected this event, I might have fortified my
+father's weakness and enabled him to shun the gulf to which he was
+tending; but my presumption had been careless of the danger. To think
+that such a one should take the place of my revered mother was
+intolerable.
+
+To treat her in any way not squaring with her real merits; to hinder
+anger and scorn from rising at the sight of her in her new condition,
+was not in my power. To be degraded to the rank of her servant, to
+become the sport of her malice and her artifices, was not to be endured.
+I had no independent provision; but I was the only child of my father,
+and had reasonably hoped to succeed to his patrimony. On this hope I had
+built a thousand agreeable visions. I had meditated innumerable projects
+which the possession of this estate would enable me to execute. I had no
+wish beyond the trade of agriculture, and beyond the opulence which a
+hundred acres would give.
+
+These visions were now at an end. No doubt her own interest would be, to
+this woman, the supreme law, and this would be considered as
+irreconcilably hostile to mine. My father would easily be moulded to
+her purpose, and that act easily extorted from him which should reduce
+me to beggary. She had a gross and perverse taste. She had a numerous
+kindred, indigent and hungry. On these his substance would speedily be
+lavished. Me she hated, because she was conscious of having injured me,
+because she knew that I held her in contempt, and because I had detected
+her in an illicit intercourse with the son of a neighbour.
+
+The house in which I lived was no longer my own, nor even my father's.
+Hitherto I had thought and acted in it with the freedom of a master; but
+now I was become, in my own conceptions, an alien and an enemy to the
+roof under which I was born. Every tie which had bound me to it was
+dissolved or converted into something which repelled me to a distance
+from it. I was a guest whose presence was borne with anger and
+impatience.
+
+I was fully impressed with the necessity of removal, but I knew not
+whither to go, or what kind of subsistence to seek. My father had been a
+Scottish emigrant, and had no kindred on this side of the ocean. My
+mother's family lived in New Hampshire, and long separation had
+extinguished all the rights of relationship in her offspring. Tilling
+the earth was my only profession, and, to profit by my skill in it, it
+would be necessary to become a day-labourer in the service of strangers;
+but this was a destiny to which I, who had so long enjoyed the pleasures
+of independence and command, could not suddenly reconcile myself. It
+occurred to me that the city might afford me an asylum. A short day's
+journey would transport me into it. I had been there twice or thrice in
+my life, but only for a few hours each time. I knew not a human face,
+and was a stranger to its modes and dangers. I was qualified for no
+employment, compatible with a town life, but that of the pen. This,
+indeed, had ever been a favourite tool with me; and, though it may
+appear somewhat strange, it is no less true that I had had nearly as
+much practice at the quill as at the mattock. But the sum of my skill
+lay in tracing distinct characters. I had used it merely to transcribe
+what others had written, or to give form to my own conceptions. Whether
+the city would afford me employment, as a mere copyist, sufficiently
+lucrative, was a point on which I possessed no means of information.
+
+My determination was hastened by the conduct of my new mother. My
+conjectures as to the course she would pursue with regard to me had not
+been erroneous. My father's deportment, in a short time, grew sullen and
+austere. Directions were given in a magisterial tone, and any remissness
+in the execution of his orders was rebuked with an air of authority. At
+length these rebukes were followed by certain intimations that I was now
+old enough to provide for myself; that it was time to think of some
+employment by which I might secure a livelihood; that it was a shame for
+me to spend my youth in idleness; that what he had gained was by his own
+labour; and I must be indebted for my living to the same source.
+
+These hints were easily understood. At first, they excited indignation
+and grief. I knew the source whence they sprung, and was merely able to
+suppress the utterance of my feelings in her presence. My looks,
+however, were abundantly significant, and my company became hourly more
+insupportable. Abstracted from these considerations, my father's
+remonstrances were not destitute of weight. He gave me being, but
+sustenance ought surely to be my own gift. In the use of that for which
+he had been indebted to his own exertions, he might reasonably consult
+his own choice. He assumed no control over me; he merely did what he
+would with his own, and, so far from fettering my liberty, he exhorted
+me to use it for my own benefit, and to make provision for myself.
+
+I now reflected that there were other manual occupations besides that of
+the plough. Among these none had fewer disadvantages than that of
+carpenter or cabinet-maker. I had no knowledge of this art; but neither
+custom, nor law, nor the impenetrableness of the mystery, required me to
+serve a seven years' apprenticeship to it. A master in this trade might
+possibly be persuaded to take me under his tuition; two or three years
+would suffice to give me the requisite skill. Meanwhile my father would,
+perhaps, consent to bear the cost of my maintenance. Nobody could live
+upon less than I was willing to do.
+
+I mentioned these ideas to my father; but he merely commended my
+intentions without offering to assist me in the execution of them. He
+had full employment, he said, for all the profits of his ground. No
+doubt, if I would bind myself to serve four or five years, my master
+would be at the expense of my subsistence. Be that as it would, I must
+look for nothing from him. I had shown very little regard for his
+happiness; I had refused all marks of respect to a woman who was
+entitled to it from her relation to him. He did not see why he should
+treat as a son one who refused what was due to him as a father. He
+thought it right that I should henceforth maintain myself. He did not
+want my services on the farm, and the sooner I quitted his house the
+better.
+
+I retired from this conference with a resolution to follow the advice
+that was given. I saw that henceforth I must be my own protector, and
+wondered at the folly that detained me so long under his roof. To leave
+it was now become indispensable, and there could be no reason for
+delaying my departure for a single hour. I determined to bend my course
+to the city. The scheme foremost in my mind was to apprentice myself to
+some mechanical trade. I did not overlook the evils of constraint and
+the dubiousness as to the character of the master I should choose. I was
+not without hopes that accident would suggest a different expedient, and
+enable me to procure an immediate subsistence without forfeiting my
+liberty.
+
+I determined to commence my journey the next morning. No wonder the
+prospect of so considerable a change in my condition should deprive me
+of sleep. I spent the night ruminating on the future, and in painting to
+my fancy the adventures which I should be likely to meet. The foresight
+of man is in proportion to his knowledge. No wonder that, in my state of
+profound ignorance, not the faintest preconception should be formed of
+the events that really befell me. My temper was inquisitive, but there
+was nothing in the scene to which I was going from which my curiosity
+expected to derive gratification. Discords and evil smells, unsavoury
+food, unwholesome labour, and irksome companions, were, in my opinion,
+the unavoidable attendants of a city.
+
+My best clothes were of the homeliest texture and shape. My whole stock
+of linen consisted of three check shirts. Part of my winter evenings'
+employment, since the death of my mother, consisted in knitting my own
+stockings. Of these I had three pair, one of which I put on, and the
+rest I formed, together with two shirts, into a bundle. Three
+quarter-dollar pieces composed my whole fortune in money.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+I rose at the dawn, and, without asking or bestowing a blessing, sallied
+forth into the highroad to the city, which passed near the house. I left
+nothing behind, the loss of which I regretted. I had purchased most of
+my own books with the product of my own separate industry, and, their
+number being, of course, small, I had, by incessant application, gotten
+the whole of them by rote. They had ceased, therefore, to be of any
+further use. I left them, without reluctance, to the fate for which I
+knew them to be reserved, that of affording food and habitation to mice.
+
+I trod this unwonted path with all the fearlessness of youth. In spite
+of the motives to despondency and apprehension incident to my state, my
+heels were light and my heart joyous. "Now," said I, "I am mounted into
+man. I must build a name and a fortune for myself. Strange if this
+intellect and these hands will not supply me with an honest livelihood.
+I will try the city in the first place; but, if that should fail,
+resources are still left to me. I will resume my post in the cornfield
+and threshing-floor, to which I shall always have access, and where I
+shall always be happy."
+
+I had proceeded some miles on my journey, when I began to feel the
+inroads of hunger. I might have stopped at any farm-house, and have
+breakfasted for nothing. It was prudent to husband, with the utmost
+care, my slender stock; but I felt reluctance to beg as long as I had
+the means of buying, and I imagined that coarse bread and a little milk
+would cost little even at a tavern, when any farmer was willing to
+bestow them for nothing. My resolution was further influenced by the
+appearance of a signpost. What excuse could I make for begging a
+breakfast with an inn at hand and silver in my pocket?
+
+I stopped, accordingly, and breakfasted. The landlord was remarkably
+attentive and obliging, but his bread was stale, his milk sour, and his
+cheese the greenest imaginable. I disdained to animadvert on these
+defects, naturally supposing that his house could furnish no better.
+
+Having finished my meal, I put, without speaking, one of my pieces into
+his hand. This deportment I conceived to be highly becoming, and to
+indicate a liberal and manly spirit. I always regarded with contempt a
+scrupulous maker of bargains. He received the money with a complaisant
+obeisance. "Right," said he. "_Just_ the money, sir. You are on foot,
+sir. A pleasant way of travelling, sir. I wish you a good day, sir." So
+saying, he walked away.
+
+This proceeding was wholly unexpected. I conceived myself entitled to at
+least three-fourths of it in change. The first impulse was to call him
+back, and contest the equity of his demand; but a moment's reflection
+showed me the absurdity of such conduct. I resumed my journey with
+spirits somewhat depressed. I have heard of voyagers and wanderers in
+deserts, who were willing to give a casket of gems for a cup of cold
+water. I had not supposed my own condition to be, in any respect,
+similar; yet I had just given one-third of my estate for a breakfast.
+
+I stopped at noon at another inn. I counted on purchasing a dinner for
+the same price, since I meant to content myself with the same fare. A
+large company was just sitting down to a smoking banquet. The landlord
+invited me to join them. I took my place at the table, but was furnished
+with bread and milk. Being prepared to depart, I took him aside. "What
+is to pay?" said I.--"Did you drink any thing, sir?"--"Certainly. I
+drank the milk which was furnished."--"But any liquors, sir?"---"No."
+
+He deliberated a moment, and then, assuming an air of disinterestedness,
+"'Tis our custom to charge dinner and club; but, as you drank nothing,
+we'll let the club go. A mere dinner is half a dollar, sir."
+
+He had no leisure to attend to my fluctuations. After debating with
+myself on what was to be done, I concluded that compliance was best,
+and, leaving the money at the bar, resumed my way.
+
+I had not performed more than half my journey, yet my purse was entirely
+exhausted. This was a specimen of the cost incurred by living at an inn.
+If I entered the city, a tavern must, at least for some time, be my
+abode; but I had not a farthing remaining to defray my charges. My
+father had formerly entertained a boarder for a dollar per week, and, in
+case of need, I was willing to subsist upon coarser fare and lie on a
+harder bed than those with which our guest had been supplied. These
+facts had been the foundation of my negligence on this occasion.
+
+What was now to be done? To return to my paternal mansion was
+impossible. To relinquish my design of entering the city and to seek a
+temporary asylum, if not permanent employment, at some one of the
+plantations within view, was the most obvious expedient. These
+deliberations did not slacken my pace. I was almost unmindful of my way,
+when I found I had passed Schuylkill at the upper bridge. I was now
+within the precincts of the city, and night was hastening. It behooved
+me to come to a speedy decision.
+
+Suddenly I recollected that I had not paid the customary toll at the
+bridge; neither had I money wherewith to pay it. A demand of payment
+would have suddenly arrested my progress; and so slight an incident
+would have precluded that wonderful destiny to which I was reserved. The
+obstacle that would have hindered my advance now prevented my return.
+Scrupulous honesty did not require me to turn back and awaken the
+vigilance of the toll-gatherer. I had nothing to pay, and by returning I
+should only double my debt. "Let it stand," said I, "where it does. All
+that honour enjoins is to pay when I am able."
+
+I adhered to the crossways, till I reached Market Street. Night had
+fallen, and a triple row of lamps presented a spectacle enchanting and
+new. My personal cares were, for a time, lost in the tumultuous
+sensations with which I was now engrossed. I had never visited the city
+at this hour. When my last visit was paid, I was a mere child. The
+novelty which environed every object was, therefore, nearly absolute. I
+proceeded with more cautious steps, but was still absorbed in attention
+to passing objects. I reached the market-house, and, entering it,
+indulged myself in new delight and new wonder.
+
+I need not remark that our ideas of magnificence and splendour are
+merely comparative; yet you may be prompted to smile when I tell you
+that, in walking through this avenue, I, for a moment, conceived myself
+transported to the hall "pendent with many a row of starry lamps and
+blazing crescents fed by naphtha and asphaltos." That this transition
+from my homely and quiet retreat had been effected in so few hours wore
+the aspect of miracle or magic.
+
+I proceeded from one of these buildings to another, till I reached their
+termination in Front Street. Here my progress was checked, and I sought
+repose to my weary limbs by seating myself on a stall. No wonder some
+fatigue was felt by me, accustomed as I was to strenuous exertions,
+since, exclusive of the minutes spent at breakfast and dinner, I had
+travelled fifteen hours and forty-five miles.
+
+I began now to reflect, with some earnestness, on my condition. I was a
+stranger, friendless and moneyless. I was unable to purchase food and
+shelter, and was wholly unused to the business of begging. Hunger was
+the only serious inconvenience to which I was immediately exposed. I had
+no objection to spend the night in the spot where I then sat. I had no
+fear that my visions would be troubled by the officers of police. It was
+no crime to be without a home; but how should I supply my present
+cravings and the cravings of to-morrow?
+
+At length it occurred to me that one of our country neighbours was
+probably at this time in the city. He kept a store as well as cultivated
+a farm. He was a plain and well-meaning man, and, should I be so
+fortunate as to meet him, his superior knowledge of the city might be of
+essential benefit to me in my present forlorn circumstances. His
+generosity might likewise induce him to lend me so much as would
+purchase one meal. I had formed the resolution to leave the city next
+day, and was astonished at the folly that had led me into it; but,
+meanwhile, my physical wants must be supplied.
+
+Where should I look for this man? In the course of conversation I
+recollected him to have referred to the place of his temporary abode. It
+was an inn; but the sign or the name of the keeper for some time
+withstood all my efforts to recall them.
+
+At length I lighted on the last. It was Lesher's tavern. I immediately
+set out in search of it. After many inquiries, I at last arrived at the
+door. I was preparing to enter the house when I perceived that my bundle
+was gone. I had left it on the stall where I had been sitting. People
+were perpetually passing to and fro. It was scarcely possible not to
+have been noticed. No one that observed it would fail to make it his
+prey. Yet it was of too much value to me to allow me to be governed by a
+bare probability. I resolved to lose not a moment in returning.
+
+With some difficulty I retraced my steps, but the bundle had
+disappeared. The clothes were, in themselves, of small value, but they
+constituted the whole of my wardrobe; and I now reflected that they were
+capable of being transmuted, by the pawn or sale of them, into food.
+There were other wretches as indigent as I was, and I consoled myself by
+thinking that my shirts and stockings might furnish a seasonable
+covering to their nakedness; but there was a relic concealed within this
+bundle, the loss of which could scarcely be endured by me. It was the
+portrait of a young man who died three years ago at my father's house,
+drawn by his own hand.
+
+He was discovered one morning in the orchard with many marks of insanity
+upon him. His air and dress bespoke some elevation of rank and fortune.
+My mother's compassion was excited, and, as his singularities were
+harmless, an asylum was afforded him, though he was unable to pay for
+it. He was constantly declaiming, in an incoherent manner, about some
+mistress who had proved faithless. His speeches seemed, however, like
+the rantings of an actor, to be rehearsed by rote or for the sake of
+exercise. He was totally careless of his person and health, and, by
+repeated negligences of this kind, at last contracted a fever of which
+he speedily died. The name which he assumed was Clavering.
+
+He gave no distinct account of his family, but stated, in loose terms,
+that they were residents in England, high-born and wealthy. That they
+had denied him the woman whom he loved and banished him to America,
+under penalty of death if he should dare to return, and that they had
+refused him all means of subsistence in a foreign land. He predicted, in
+his wild and declamatory way, his own death. He was very skilful at the
+pencil, and drew this portrait a short time before his dissolution,
+presented it to me, and charged me to preserve it in remembrance of him.
+My mother loved the youth because he was amiable and unfortunate, and
+chiefly because she fancied a very powerful resemblance between his
+countenance and mine. I was too young to build affection on any rational
+foundation. I loved him, for whatever reason, with an ardour unusual at
+my age, and which this portrait had contributed to prolong and to
+cherish.
+
+In thus finally leaving my home, I was careful not to leave this picture
+behind. I wrapped it in paper in which a few elegiac stanzas were
+inscribed in my own hand, and with my utmost elegance of penmanship. I
+then placed it in a leathern case, which, for greater security, was
+deposited in the centre of my bundle. It will occur to you, perhaps,
+that it would be safer in some fold or pocket of the clothes which I
+wore. I was of a different opinion, and was now to endure the penalty of
+my error.
+
+It was in vain to heap execrations on my negligence, or to consume the
+little strength left to me in regrets. I returned once more to the
+tavern and made inquiries for Mr. Capper, the person whom I have just
+mentioned as my father's neighbour. I was informed that Capper was now
+in town; that he had lodged, on the last night, at this house; that he
+had expected to do the same to-night, but a gentleman had called ten
+minutes ago, whose invitation to lodge with him to-night had been
+accepted. They had just gone out together. Who, I asked, was the
+gentleman? The landlord had no knowledge of him; he knew neither his
+place of abode nor his name. Was Mr. Capper expected to return hither in
+the morning? No; he had heard the stranger propose to Mr. Capper to go
+with him into the country to-morrow, and Mr. Capper, he believed, had
+assented.
+
+This disappointment was peculiarly severe. I had lost, by my own
+negligence, the only opportunity that would offer of meeting my friend.
+Had even the recollection of my loss been postponed for three minutes, I
+should have entered the house, and a meeting would have been secured. I
+could discover no other expedient to obviate the present evil. My heart
+began now, for the first time, to droop. I looked back, with nameless
+emotions, on the days of my infancy. I called up the image of my mother.
+I reflected on the infatuation of my surviving parent, and the
+usurpation of the detestable Betty, with horror. I viewed myself as the
+most calamitous and desolate of human beings.
+
+At this time I was sitting in the common room. There were others in the
+same apartment, lounging, or whistling, or singing. I noticed them not,
+but, leaning my head upon my hand, I delivered myself up to painful and
+intense meditation. From this I was roused by some one placing himself
+on the bench near me and addressing me thus:--"Pray, sir, if you will
+excuse me, who was the person whom you were looking for just now?
+Perhaps I can give you the information you want. If I can, you will be
+very welcome to it." I fixed my eyes with some eagerness on the person
+that spoke. He was a young man, expensively and fashionably dressed,
+whose mien was considerably prepossessing, and whose countenance bespoke
+some portion of discernment. I described to him the man whom I sought.
+"I am in search of the same man myself," said he, "but I expect to meet
+him here. He may lodge elsewhere, but he promised to meet me here at
+half after nine. I have no doubt he will fulfil his promise, so that you
+will meet the gentleman."
+
+I was highly gratified by this information, and thanked my informant
+with some degree of warmth. My gratitude he did not notice, but
+continued: "In order to beguile expectation, I have ordered supper;
+will you do me the favour to partake with me, unless indeed you have
+supped already?" I was obliged, somewhat awkwardly, to decline his
+invitation, conscious as I was that the means of payment were not in my
+power. He continued, however, to urge my compliance till at length it
+was, though reluctantly, yielded. My chief motive was the certainty of
+seeing Capper.
+
+My new acquaintance was exceedingly conversible, but his conversation
+was chiefly characterized by frankness and good-humour. My reserve
+gradually diminished, and I ventured to inform him, in general terms, of
+my former condition and present views. He listened to my details with
+seeming attention, and commented on them with some judiciousness. His
+statements, however, tended to discourage me from remaining in the city.
+
+Meanwhile the hour passed and Capper did not appear. I noticed this
+circumstance to him with no little solicitude. He said that possibly he
+might have forgotten or neglected his engagement. His affair was not of
+the highest importance, and might be readily postponed to a future
+opportunity. He perceived that my vivacity was greatly damped by this
+intelligence. He importuned me to disclose the cause. He made himself
+very merry with my distress, when it was at length discovered. As to the
+expense of supper, I had partaken of it at his invitation; he therefore
+should of course be charged with it. As to lodging, he had a chamber and
+a bed, which he would insist upon my sharing with him.
+
+My faculties were thus kept upon the stretch of wonder. Every new act of
+kindness in this man surpassed the fondest expectation that I had
+formed. I saw no reason why I should be treated with benevolence. I
+should have acted in the same manner if placed in the same
+circumstances; yet it appeared incongruous and inexplicable. I know
+whence my ideas of human nature were derived. They certainly were not
+the offspring of my own feelings. These would have taught me that
+interest and duty were blended in every act of generosity.
+
+I did not come into the world without my scruples and suspicions. I was
+more apt to impute kindnesses to sinister and hidden than to obvious and
+laudable motives.
+
+I paused to reflect upon the possible designs of this person. What end
+could be served by this behaviour? I was no subject of violence or
+fraud. I had neither trinket nor coin to stimulate the treachery of
+others. What was offered was merely lodging for the night. Was this an
+act of such transcendent disinterestedness as to be incredible? My garb
+was meaner than that of my companion, but my intellectual
+accomplishments were at least upon a level with his. Why should he be
+supposed to be insensible to my claims upon his kindness? I was a youth
+destitute of experience, money, and friends; but I was not devoid of all
+mental and personal endowments. That my merit should be discovered, even
+on such slender intercourse, had surely nothing in it that shocked
+belief.
+
+While I was thus deliberating, my new friend was earnest in his
+solicitations for my company. He remarked my hesitation, but ascribed it
+to a wrong cause. "Come," said he, "I can guess your objections and can
+obviate them. You are afraid of being ushered into company; and people
+who have passed their lives like you have a wonderful antipathy to
+strange faces; but this is bedtime with our family, so that we can defer
+your introduction to them till to-morrow. We may go to our chamber
+without being seen by any but servants."
+
+I had not been aware of this circumstance. My reluctance flowed from a
+different cause, but, now that the inconveniences of ceremony were
+mentioned, they appeared to me of considerable weight. I was well
+pleased that they should thus be avoided, and consented to go along with
+him.
+
+We passed several streets and turned several corners. At last we turned
+into a kind of court which seemed to be chiefly occupied by stables. "We
+will go," said he, "by the back way into the house. We shall thus save
+ourselves the necessity of entering the parlour, where some of the
+family may still be."
+
+My companion was as talkative as ever, but said nothing from which I
+could gather any knowledge of the number, character, and condition of
+his family.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+We arrived at a brick wall, through which we passed by a gate into an
+extensive court or yard. The darkness would allow me to see nothing but
+outlines. Compared with the pigmy dimensions of my father's wooden
+hovel, the buildings before me were of gigantic loftiness. The horses
+were here far more magnificently accommodated than I had been. By a
+large door we entered an elevated hall. "Stay here," said he, "just
+while I fetch a light."
+
+He returned, bearing a candle, before I had time to ponder on my present
+situation.
+
+We now ascended a staircase, covered with painted canvas. No one whose
+inexperience is less than mine can imagine to himself the impressions
+made upon me by surrounding objects. The height to which this stair
+ascended, its dimensions, and its ornaments, appeared to me a
+combination of all that was pompous and superb.
+
+We stopped not till we had reached the third story. Here my companion
+unlocked and led the way into a chamber. "This," said he, "is my room;
+permit me to welcome you into it."
+
+I had no time to examine this room before, by some accident, the candle
+was extinguished. "Curse upon my carelessness!" said he. "I must go down
+again and light the candle. I will return in a twinkling. Meanwhile you
+may undress yourself and go to bed." He went out, and, as I afterwards
+recollected, locked the door behind him.
+
+I was not indisposed to follow his advice, but my curiosity would first
+be gratified by a survey of the room. Its height and spaciousness were
+imperfectly discernible by starlight, and by gleams from a street-lamp.
+The floor was covered with a carpet, the walls with brilliant hangings;
+the bed and windows were shrouded by curtains of a rich texture and
+glossy hues. Hitherto I had merely read of these things. I knew them to
+be the decorations of opulence; and yet, as I viewed them, and
+remembered where and what I was on the same hour the preceding day, I
+could scarcely believe myself awake, or that my senses were not beguiled
+by some spell.
+
+"Where," said I, "will this adventure terminate? I rise on the morrow
+with the dawn and speed into the country. When this night is remembered,
+how like a vision will it appear! If I tell the tale by a kitchen-fire,
+my veracity will be disputed. I shall be ranked with the story-tellers
+of Shiraz and Bagdad."
+
+Though busied in these reflections, I was not inattentive to the
+progress of time. Methought my companion was remarkably dilatory. He
+went merely to relight his candle, but certainly he might, during this
+time, have performed the operation ten times over. Some unforeseen
+accident might occasion his delay.
+
+Another interval passed, and no tokens of his coming. I began now to
+grow uneasy. I was unable to account for his detention. Was not some
+treachery designed? I went to the door, and found that it was locked.
+This heightened my suspicions. I was alone, a stranger, in an upper room
+of the house. Should my conductor have disappeared, by design or by
+accident, and some one of the family should find me here, what would be
+the consequence? Should I not be arrested as a thief, and conveyed to
+prison? My transition from the street to this chamber would not be more
+rapid than my passage hence to a jail.
+
+These ideas struck me with panic. I revolved them anew, but they only
+acquired greater plausibility. No doubt I had been the victim of
+malicious artifice. Inclination, however, conjured up opposite
+sentiments, and my fears began to subside. What motive, I asked, could
+induce a human being to inflict wanton injury? I could not account for
+his delay; but how numberless were the contingencies that might occasion
+it!
+
+I was somewhat comforted by these reflections, but the consolation they
+afforded was short-lived. I was listening with the utmost eagerness to
+catch the sound of a foot, when a noise was indeed heard, but totally
+unlike a step. It was human breath struggling, as it were, for passage.
+On the first effort of attention, it appeared like a groan. Whence it
+arose I could not tell. He that uttered it was near; perhaps in the
+room.
+
+Presently the same noise was again heard, and now I perceived that it
+came from the bed. It was accompanied with a motion like some one
+changing his posture. What I at first conceived to be a groan appeared
+now to be nothing more than the expiration of a sleeping man. What
+should I infer from this incident? My companion did not apprize me that
+the apartment was inhabited. Was his imposture a jestful or a wicked
+one?
+
+There was no need to deliberate. There were no means of concealment or
+escape. The person would some time awaken and detect me. The interval
+would only be fraught with agony, and it was wise to shorten it. Should
+I not withdraw the curtain, awake the person, and encounter at once all
+the consequences of my situation? I glided softly to the bed, when the
+thought occurred, May not the sleeper be a female?
+
+I cannot describe the mixture of dread and of shame which glowed in my
+veins. The light in which such a visitant would be probably regarded by
+a woman's fears, the precipitate alarms that might be given, the injury
+which I might unknowingly inflict or undeservedly suffer, threw my
+thoughts into painful confusion. My presence might pollute a spotless
+reputation, or furnish fuel to jealousy.
+
+Still, though it were a female, would not less injury be done by gently
+interrupting her slumber? But the question of sex still remained to be
+decided. For this end I once more approached the bed, and drew aside the
+silk. The sleeper was a babe. This I discovered by the glimmer of a
+street-lamp.
+
+Part of my solicitudes were now removed. It was plain that this chamber
+belonged to a nurse or a mother. She had not yet come to bed. Perhaps it
+was a married pair, and their approach might be momently expected. I
+pictured to myself their entrance and my own detection. I could imagine
+no consequence that was not disastrous and horrible, and from which I
+would not at any price escape. I again examined the door, and found that
+exit by this avenue was impossible. There were other doors in this room.
+Any practicable expedient in this extremity was to be pursued. One of
+these was bolted. I unfastened it and found a considerable space within.
+Should I immure myself in this closet? I saw no benefit that would
+finally result from it. I discovered that there was a bolt on the
+inside, which would somewhat contribute to security. This being drawn,
+no one could enter without breaking the door.
+
+I had scarcely paused, when the long-expected sound of footsteps was
+heard in the entry. Was it my companion, or a stranger? If it were the
+latter, I had not yet mustered courage sufficient to meet him. I cannot
+applaud the magnanimity of my proceeding; but no one can expect intrepid
+or judicious measures from one in my circumstances. I stepped into the
+closet, and closed the door. Some one immediately after unlocked the
+chamber door. He was unattended with a light. The footsteps, as they
+moved along the carpet, could scarcely be heard.
+
+I waited impatiently for some token by which I might be governed. I put
+my ear to the keyhole, and at length heard a voice, but not that of my
+companion, exclaim, somewhat above a whisper, "Smiling cherub! safe and
+sound, I see. Would to God my experiment may succeed, and that thou
+mayest find a mother where I have found a wife!" There he stopped. He
+appeared to kiss the babe, and, presently retiring, locked the door
+after him.
+
+These words were capable of no consistent meaning. They served, at
+least, to assure me that I had been treacherously dealt with. This
+chamber, it was manifest, did not belong to my companion. I put up
+prayers to my Deity that he would deliver me from these toils. What a
+condition was mine! Immersed in palpable darkness! shut up in this
+unknown recess! lurking like a robber!
+
+My meditations were disturbed by new sounds. The door was unlocked,
+more than one person entered the apartment, and light streamed through
+the keyhole. I looked; but the aperture was too small and the figures
+passed too quickly to permit me the sight of them. I bent my ear, and
+this imparted some more authentic information.
+
+The man, as I judged by the voice, was the same who had just departed.
+Rustling of silk denoted his companion to be female. Some words being
+uttered by the man, in too low a key to be overheard, the lady burst
+into a passion of tears. He strove to comfort her by soothing tones and
+tender appellations. "How can it be helped?" said he. "It is time to
+resume your courage. Your duty to yourself and to me requires you to
+subdue this unreasonable grief."
+
+He spoke frequently in this strain, but all he said seemed to have
+little influence in pacifying the lady. At length, however, her sobs
+began to lessen in vehemence and frequency. He exhorted her to seek for
+some repose. Apparently she prepared to comply, and conversation was,
+for a few minutes, intermitted.
+
+I could not but advert to the possibility that some occasion to examine
+the closet, in which I was immured, might occur. I knew not in what
+manner to demean myself if this should take place. I had no option at
+present. By withdrawing myself from view I had lost the privilege of an
+upright deportment. Yet the thought of spending the night in this spot
+was not to be endured.
+
+Gradually I began to view the project of bursting from the closet, and
+trusting to the energy of truth and of an artless tale, with more
+complacency. More than once my hand was placed upon the bolt, but
+withdrawn by a sudden faltering of resolution. When one attempt failed,
+I recurred once more to such reflections as were adapted to renew my
+purpose.
+
+I preconcerted the address which I should use. I resolved to be
+perfectly explicit; to withhold no particular of my adventures from the
+moment of my arrival. My description must necessarily suit some person
+within their knowledge. All I should want was liberty to depart; but, if
+this were not allowed, I might at least hope to escape any ill
+treatment, and to be confronted with my betrayer. In that case I did not
+fear to make him the attester of my innocence.
+
+Influenced by these considerations, I once more touched the lock. At
+that moment the lady shrieked, and exclaimed, "Good God! What is here?"
+An interesting conversation ensued. The object that excited her
+astonishment was the child. I collected from what passed that the
+discovery was wholly unexpected by her. Her husband acted as if equally
+unaware of this event. He joined in all her exclamations of wonder and
+all her wild conjectures. When these were somewhat exhausted, he
+artfully insinuated the propriety of bestowing care upon the little
+foundling. I now found that her grief had been occasioned by the recent
+loss of her own offspring. She was, for some time, averse to her
+husband's proposal, but at length was persuaded to take the babe to her
+bosom and give it nourishment.
+
+This incident had diverted my mind from its favourite project, and
+filled me with speculations on the nature of the scene. One explication
+was obvious, that the husband was the parent of this child, and had used
+this singular expedient to procure for it the maternal protection of his
+wife. It would soon claim from her all the fondness which she
+entertained for her own progeny. No suspicion probably had yet, or would
+hereafter, occur with regard to its true parent. If her character be
+distinguished by the usual attributes of women, the knowledge of this
+truth may convert her love into hatred. I reflected with amazement on
+the slightness of that thread by which human passions are led from their
+true direction. With no less amazement did I remark the complexity of
+incidents by which I had been empowered to communicate to her this
+truth. How baseless are the structures of falsehood, which we build in
+opposition to the system of eternal nature! If I should escape
+undetected from this recess, it will be true that I never saw the face
+of either of these persons, and yet I am acquainted with the most secret
+transaction of their lives.
+
+My own situation was now more critical than before. The lights were
+extinguished, and the parties had sought repose. To issue from the
+closet now would be imminently dangerous. My councils were again at a
+stand and my designs frustrated. Meanwhile the persons did not drop
+their discourse, and I thought myself justified in listening. Many facts
+of the most secret and momentous nature were alluded to. Some allusions
+were unintelligible. To others I was able to affix a plausible meaning,
+and some were palpable enough. Every word that was uttered on that
+occasion is indelibly imprinted on my memory. Perhaps the singularity of
+my circumstances, and my previous ignorance of what was passing in the
+world, contributed to render me a greedy listener. Most that was said I
+shall overlook; but one part of the conversation it will be necessary to
+repeat.
+
+A large company had assembled that evening at their house. They
+criticized the character and manners of several. At last the husband
+said, "What think you of the nabob? Especially when he talked about
+riches? How artfully he encourages the notion of his poverty! Yet not a
+soul believes him. I cannot for my part account for that scheme of his.
+I half suspect that his wealth flows from a bad source, since he is so
+studious of concealing it."
+
+"Perhaps, after all," said the lady, "you are mistaken as to his
+wealth."
+
+"Impossible," exclaimed the other. "Mark how he lives. Have I not seen
+his bank-account? His deposits, since he has been here, amount to no
+less than half a million."
+
+"Heaven grant that it be so!" said the lady, with a sigh. "I shall think
+with less aversion of your scheme. If poor Tom's fortune be made, and he
+not the worse, or but little the worse on that account, I shall think it
+on the whole best."
+
+"That," replied he, "is what reconciles me to the scheme. To him thirty
+thousand are nothing."
+
+"But will he not suspect you of some hand in it?"
+
+"How can he? Will I not appear to lose as well as himself? Tom is my
+brother, but who can be supposed to answer for a brother's integrity?
+but he cannot suspect either of us. Nothing less than a miracle can
+bring our plot to light. Besides, this man is not what he ought to be.
+He will, some time or other, come out to be a grand impostor. He makes
+money by other arts than bargain and sale. He has found his way, by some
+means, to the Portuguese treasury."
+
+Here the conversation took a new direction, and, after some time, the
+silence of sleep ensued.
+
+Who, thought I, is this nabob who counts his dollars by half-millions,
+and on whom it seems as if some fraud was intended to be practised?
+Amidst their wariness and subtlety, how little are they aware that their
+conversation has been overheard! By means as inscrutable as those which
+conducted me hither, I may hereafter be enabled to profit by this
+detection of a plot. But, meanwhile, what was I to do? How was I to
+effect my escape from this perilous asylum?
+
+After much reflection, it occurred to me that to gain the street without
+exciting their notice was not utterly impossible. Sleep does not
+commonly end of itself, unless at a certain period. What impediments
+were there between me and liberty which I could not remove, and remove
+with so much caution as to escape notice? Motion and sound inevitably go
+together; but every sound is not attended to. The doors of the closet
+and the chamber did not creak upon their hinges. The latter might be
+locked. This I was able to ascertain only by experiment. If it were so,
+yet the key was probably in the lock, and might be used without much
+noise.
+
+I waited till their slow and hoarser inspirations showed them to be both
+asleep. Just then, on changing my position, my head struck against some
+things which depended from the ceiling of the closet. They were
+implements of some kind which rattled against each other in consequence
+of this unlucky blow. I was fearful lest this noise should alarm, as the
+closet was little distant from the bed. The breathing of one instantly
+ceased, and a motion was made as if the head were lifted from the
+pillow. This motion, which was made by the husband, awaked his
+companion, who exclaimed, "What is the matter?"
+
+"Something, I believe," replied he, "in the closet. If I was not
+dreaming, I heard the pistols strike against each other as if some one
+was taking them down."
+
+This intimation was well suited to alarm the lady. She besought him to
+ascertain the matter. This, to my utter dismay, he at first consented to
+do, but presently observed that probably his ears had misinformed him.
+It was hardly possible that the sound proceeded from them. It might be a
+rat, or his own fancy might have fashioned it. It is not easy to
+describe my trepidations while this conference was holding. I saw how
+easily their slumber was disturbed. The obstacles to my escape were less
+surmountable than I had imagined.
+
+In a little time all was again still. I waited till the usual tokens of
+sleep were distinguishable. I once more resumed my attempt. The bolt was
+withdrawn with all possible slowness; but I could by no means prevent
+all sound. My state was full of inquietude and suspense; my attention
+being painfully divided between the bolt and the condition of the
+sleepers. The difficulty lay in giving that degree of force which was
+barely sufficient. Perhaps not less than fifteen minutes were consumed
+in this operation. At last it was happily effected, and the door was
+cautiously opened.
+
+Emerging as I did from utter darkness, the light admitted into three
+windows produced, to my eyes, a considerable illumination. Objects
+which, on my first entrance into this apartment, were invisible, were
+now clearly discerned. The bed was shrouded by curtains, yet I shrunk
+back into my covert, fearful of being seen. To facilitate my escape, I
+put off my shoes. My mind was so full of objects of more urgent moment,
+that the propriety of taking them along with me never occurred. I left
+them in the closet.
+
+I now glided across the apartment to the door. I was not a little
+discouraged by observing that the key was wanting. My whole hope
+depended on the omission to lock it. In my haste to ascertain this
+point, I made some noise which again roused one of the sleepers. He
+started, and cried, "Who is there?"
+
+I now regarded my case as desperate, and detection as inevitable. My
+apprehensions, rather than my caution, kept me mute. I shrunk to the
+wall, and waited in a kind of agony for the moment that should decide my
+fate.
+
+The lady was again roused. In answer to her inquiries, her husband said
+that some one, he believed, was at the door, but there was no danger of
+their entering, for he had locked it, and the key was in his pocket.
+
+My courage was completely annihilated by this piece of intelligence. My
+resources were now at an end. I could only remain in this spot till the
+morning light, which could be at no great distance, should discover me.
+My inexperience disabled me from estimating all the perils of my
+situation. Perhaps I had no more than temporary inconveniences to dread.
+My intention was innocent, and I had been betrayed into my present
+situation, not by my own wickedness, but the wickedness of others.
+
+I was deeply impressed with the ambiguousness which would necessarily
+rest upon my motives, and the scrutiny to which they would be subjected.
+I shuddered at the bare possibility of being ranked with thieves. These
+reflections again gave edge to my ingenuity in search of the means of
+escape. I had carefully attended to the circumstances of their entrance.
+Possibly the act of locking had been unnoticed; but was it not likewise
+possible that this person had been mistaken? The key was gone. Would
+this have been the case if the door were unlocked?
+
+My fears, rather than my hopes, impelled me to make the experiment. I
+drew back the latch, and, to my unspeakable joy, the door opened.
+
+I passed through and explored my way to the staircase. I descended till
+I reached the bottom. I could not recollect with accuracy the position
+of the door leading into the court, but, by carefully feeling along the
+wall with my hands, I at length discovered it. It was fastened by
+several bolts and a lock. The bolts were easily withdrawn, but the key
+was removed. I knew not where it was deposited. I thought I had reached
+the threshold of liberty, but here was an impediment that threatened to
+be insurmountable.
+
+But, if doors could not be passed, windows might be unbarred. I
+remembered that my companion had gone into a door on the left hand, in
+search of a light. I searched for this door. Fortunately it was fastened
+only by a bolt. It admitted me into a room which I carefully explored
+till I reached a window. I will not dwell on my efforts to unbar this
+entrance. Suffice it to say that, after much exertion and frequent
+mistakes, I at length found my way into the yard, and thence passed into
+the court.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Now I was once more on public ground. By so many anxious efforts had I
+disengaged myself from the perilous precincts of private property. As
+many stratagems as are usually made to enter a house had been employed
+by me to get out of it. I was urged to the use of them by my fears; yet,
+so far from carrying off spoil, I had escaped with the loss of an
+essential part of my dress.
+
+I had now leisure to reflect. I seated myself on the ground and reviewed
+the scenes through which I had just passed. I began to think that my
+industry had been misemployed. Suppose I had met the person on his first
+entrance into his chamber? Was the truth so utterly wild as not to have
+found credit? Since the door was locked, and there was no other avenue,
+what other statement but the true one would account for my being found
+there? This deportment had been worthy of an honest purpose. My betrayer
+probably expected that this would be the issue of his jest. My rustic
+simplicity, he might think, would suggest no more ambiguous or elaborate
+expedient. He might likewise have predetermined to interfere if my
+safety had been really endangered.
+
+On the morrow the two doors of the chamber and the window below would be
+found unclosed. They will suspect a design to pillage, but their
+searches will terminate in nothing but in the discovery of a pair of
+clumsy and dusty shoes in the closet. Now that I was safe I could not
+help smiling at the picture which my fancy drew of their anxiety and
+wonder. These thoughts, however, gave place to more momentous
+considerations.
+
+I could not imagine to myself a more perfect example of indigence than I
+now exhibited. There was no being in the city on whose kindness I had
+any claim. Money I had none, and what I then wore comprised my whole
+stock of movables. I had just lost my shoes, and this loss rendered my
+stockings of no use. My dignity remonstrated against a barefoot
+pilgrimage, but to this, necessity now reconciled me. I threw my
+stockings between the bars of a stable-window, belonging, as I thought,
+to the mansion I had just left. These, together with my shoes, I left to
+pay the cost of my entertainment.
+
+I saw that the city was no place for me. The end that I had had in view,
+of procuring some mechanical employment, could only be obtained by the
+use of means, but what means to pursue I knew not. This night's perils
+and deceptions gave me a distaste to a city life, and my ancient
+occupations rose to my view enhanced by a thousand imaginary charms, I
+resolved forthwith to strike into the country.
+
+The day began now to dawn. It was Sunday, and I was desirous of eluding
+observation. I was somewhat recruited by rest, though the languors of
+sleeplessness oppressed me. I meant to throw myself on the first lap of
+verdure I should meet, and indulge in sleep that I so much wanted. I
+knew not the direction of the streets; but followed that which I first
+entered from the court, trusting that, by adhering steadily to one
+course, I should some time reach the fields. This street, as I
+afterwards found, tended to Schuylkill, and soon extricated me from
+houses. I could not cross this river without payment of toll. It was
+requisite to cross it in order to reach that part of the country whither
+I was desirous of going; but how should I effect my passage? I knew of
+no ford, and the smallest expense exceeded my capacity. Ten thousand
+guineas and a farthing were equally remote from nothing, and nothing was
+the portion allotted to me.
+
+While my mind was thus occupied, I turned up one of the streets which
+tend northward. It was, for some length, uninhabited and unpaved.
+Presently I reached a pavement, and a painted fence, along which a row
+of poplars was planted. It bounded a garden into which a knot-hole
+permitted me to pry. The enclosure was a charming green, which I saw
+appended to a house of the loftiest and most stately order. It seemed
+like a recent erection, had all the gloss of novelty, and exhibited, to
+my unpractised eyes, the magnificence of palaces. My father's dwelling
+did not equal the height of one story, and might be easily comprised in
+one-fourth of those buildings which here were designed to accommodate
+the menials. My heart dictated the comparison between my own condition
+and that of the proprietors of this domain. How wide and how impassable
+was the gulf by which we were separated! This fair inheritance had
+fallen to one who, perhaps, would only abuse it to the purposes of
+luxury, while I, with intentions worthy of the friend of mankind, was
+doomed to wield the flail and the mattock.
+
+I had been entirely unaccustomed to this strain of reflection. My books
+had taught me the dignity and safety of the middle path, and my darling
+writer abounded with encomiums on rural life. At a distance from luxury
+and pomp, I viewed them, perhaps, in a just light. A nearer scrutiny
+confirmed my early prepossessions; but, at the distance at which I now
+stood, the lofty edifices, the splendid furniture, and the copious
+accommodations of the rich excited my admiration and my envy.
+
+I relinquished my station, and proceeded, in a heartless mood, along the
+fence. I now came to the mansion itself. The principal door was entered
+by a staircase of marble. I had never seen the stone of Carrara, and
+wildly supposed this to have been dug from Italian quarries. The beauty
+of the poplars, the coolness exhaled from the dew-besprent bricks, the
+commodiousness of the seat which these steps afforded, and the
+uncertainty into which I was plunged respecting my future conduct, all
+combined to make me pause. I sat down on the lower step and began to
+meditate.
+
+By some transition it occurred to me that the supply of my most urgent
+wants might be found in some inhabitant of this house. I needed at
+present a few cents; and what were a few cents to the tenant of a
+mansion like this? I had an invincible aversion to the calling of a
+beggar, but I regarded with still more antipathy the vocation of a
+thief; to this alternative, however, I was now reduced. I must either
+steal or beg; unless, indeed, assistance could be procured under the
+notion of a loan. Would a stranger refuse to lend the pittance that I
+wanted? Surely not, when the urgency of my wants was explained.
+
+I recollected other obstacles. To summon the master of the house from
+his bed, perhaps, for the sake of such an application, would be
+preposterous. I should be in more danger of provoking his anger than
+exciting his benevolence. This request might, surely, with more
+propriety be preferred to a passenger. I should, probably, meet several
+before I should arrive at Schuylkill.
+
+A servant just then appeared at the door, with bucket and brush. This
+obliged me, much sooner than I intended, to decamp. With some reluctance
+I rose and proceeded. This house occupied the corner of the street, and
+I now turned this corner towards the country. A person, at some distance
+before me, was approaching in an opposite direction.
+
+"Why," said I, "may I not make my demand of the first man I meet? This
+person exhibits tokens of ability to lend. There is nothing chilling or
+austere in his demeanour."
+
+The resolution to address this passenger was almost formed; but the
+nearer he advanced my resolves grew less firm. He noticed me not till he
+came within a few paces. He seemed busy in reflection; and, had not my
+figure caught his eye, or had he merely bestowed a passing glance upon
+me, I should not have been sufficiently courageous to have detained him.
+The event, however, was widely different.
+
+He looked at me and started. For an instant, as it were, and till he had
+time to dart at me a second glance, he checked his pace. This behaviour
+decided mine, and he stopped on perceiving tokens of a desire to address
+him. I spoke, but my accents and air sufficiently denoted my
+embarrassments:--
+
+"I am going to solicit a favour which my situation makes of the highest
+importance to me, and which I hope it will be easy for you, sir, to
+grant. It is not an alms, but a loan, that I seek; a loan that I will
+repay the moment I am able to do it. I am going to the country, but
+have not wherewith to pay my passage over Schuylkill, or to buy a morsel
+of bread. May I venture to request of you, sir, the loan of sixpence? As
+I told you, it is my intention to repay it."
+
+I delivered this address, not without some faltering, but with great
+earnestness. I laid particular stress upon my intention to refund the
+money. He listened with a most inquisitive air. His eye perused me from
+head to foot.
+
+After some pause, he said, in a very emphatic manner, "Why into the
+country? Have you family? Kindred? Friends?"
+
+"No," answered I, "I have neither. I go in search of the means of
+subsistence. I have passed my life upon a farm, and propose to die in
+the same condition."
+
+"Whence have you come?"
+
+"I came yesterday from the country, with a view to earn my bread in some
+way, but have changed my plan and propose now to return."
+
+"Why have you changed it? In what way are you capable of earning your
+bread?"
+
+"I hardly know," said I. "I can, as yet, manage no tool, that can be
+managed in the city, but the pen. My habits have, in some small degree,
+qualified me for a writer. I would willingly accept employment of that
+kind."
+
+He fixed his eyes upon the earth, and was silent for some minutes. At
+length, recovering himself, he said, "Follow me to my house. Perhaps
+something may be done for you. If not, I will lend you sixpence."
+
+It may be supposed that I eagerly complied with the invitation. My
+companion said no more, his air bespeaking him to be absorbed by his own
+thoughts, till he reached his house, which proved to be that at the door
+of which I had been seated. We entered a parlour together.
+
+Unless you can assume my ignorance and my simplicity, you will be unable
+to conceive the impressions that were made by the size and ornaments of
+this apartment. I shall omit these impressions, which, indeed, no
+description could adequately convey, and dwell on incidents of greater
+moment. He asked me to give him a specimen of my penmanship. I told you
+that I had bestowed very great attention upon this art. Implements were
+brought, and I sat down to the task. By some inexplicable connection a
+line in Shakspeare occurred to me, and I wrote,--
+
+ "My poverty, but not my will, consents."
+
+The sentiment conveyed in this line powerfully affected him, but in a
+way which I could not then comprehend. I collected from subsequent
+events that the inference was not unfavourable to my understanding or my
+morals. He questioned me as to my history. I related my origin and my
+inducements to desert my father's house. With respect to last night's
+adventures I was silent. I saw no useful purpose that could be answered
+by disclosure, and I half suspected that my companion would refuse
+credit to my tale.
+
+There were frequent intervals of abstraction and reflection between his
+questions. My examination lasted not much less than an hour. At length
+he said, "I want an amanuensis or copyist. On what terms will you live
+with me?"
+
+I answered that I knew not how to estimate the value of my services. I
+knew not whether these services were agreeable or healthful. My life had
+hitherto been active. My constitution was predisposed to diseases of the
+lungs, and the change might be hurtful. I was willing, however, to try
+and to content myself for a month or a year, with so much as would
+furnish me with food, clothing, and lodging.
+
+"'Tis well," said he. "You remain with me as long and no longer than
+both of us please. You shall lodge and eat in this house. I will supply
+you with clothing, and your task will be to write what I dictate. Your
+person, I see, has not shared much of your attention. It is in my power
+to equip you instantly in the manner which becomes a resident in this
+house. Come with me."
+
+He led the way into the court behind and thence into a neat building,
+which contained large wooden vessels and a pump: "There," said he, "you
+may wash yourself; and, when that is done, I will conduct you to your
+chamber and your wardrobe."
+
+This was speedily performed, and he accordingly led the way to the
+chamber. It was an apartment in the third story, finished and furnished
+in the same costly and superb style with the rest of the house. He
+opened closets and drawers which overflowed with clothes and linen of
+all and of the best kinds. "These are yours," said he, "as long as you
+stay with me. Dress yourself as likes you best. Here is every thing your
+nakedness requires. When dressed, you may descend to breakfast." With
+these words he left me.
+
+The clothes were all in the French style, as I afterwards, by comparing
+my garb with that of others, discovered. They were fitted to my shape
+with the nicest precision. I bedecked myself with all my care. I
+remembered the style of dress used by my beloved Clavering. My locks
+were of shining auburn, flowing and smooth like his. Having wrung the
+wet from them, and combed, I tied them carelessly in a black riband.
+Thus equipped, I surveyed myself in a mirror.
+
+You may imagine, if you can, the sensations which this instantaneous
+transformation produced. Appearances are wonderfully influenced by
+dress. Check shirt, buttoned at the neck, an awkward fustian coat, check
+trowsers and bare feet, were now supplanted by linen and muslin, nankeen
+coat striped with green, a white silk waistcoat elegantly
+needle-wrought, cassimere pantaloons, stockings of variegated silk, and
+shoes that in their softness, pliancy, and polished surface vied with
+satin. I could scarcely forbear looking back to see whether the image in
+the glass, so well proportioned, so gallant, and so graceful, did not
+belong to another. I could scarcely recognise any lineaments of my own.
+I walked to the window. "Twenty minutes ago," said I, "I was traversing
+that path a barefoot beggar; now I am thus." Again I surveyed myself.
+"Surely some insanity has fastened on my understanding. My senses are
+the sport of dreams. Some magic that disdains the cumbrousness of
+nature's progress has wrought this change." I was roused from these
+doubts by a summons to breakfast, obsequiously delivered by a black
+servant.
+
+I found Welbeck (for I shall henceforth call him by his true name) at
+the breakfast-table. A superb equipage of silver and china was before
+him. He was startled at my entrance. The change in my dress seemed for a
+moment to have deceived him. His eye was frequently fixed upon me with
+unusual steadfastness. At these times there was inquietude and wonder in
+his features.
+
+I had now an opportunity of examining my host. There was nicety but no
+ornament in his dress. His form was of the middle height, spare, but
+vigorous and graceful. His face was cast, I thought, in a foreign mould.
+His forehead receded beyond the usual degree in visages which I had
+seen. His eyes large and prominent, but imparting no marks of benignity
+and habitual joy. The rest of his face forcibly suggested the idea of a
+convex edge. His whole figure impressed me with emotions of veneration
+and awe. A gravity that almost amounted to sadness invariably attended
+him when we were alone together.
+
+He whispered the servant that waited, who immediately retired. He then
+said, turning to me, "A lady will enter presently, whom you are to treat
+with the respect due to my daughter. You must not notice any emotion she
+may betray at the sight of you, nor expect her to converse with you; for
+she does not understand your language." He had scarcely spoken when she
+entered. I was seized with certain misgivings and flutterings which a
+clownish education may account for. I so far conquered my timidity,
+however, as to snatch a look at her. I was not born to execute her
+portrait. Perhaps the turban that wreathed her head, the brilliant
+texture and inimitable folds of her drapery, and nymphlike port, more
+than the essential attributes of her person, gave splendour to the
+celestial vision. Perhaps it was her snowy hues, and the cast rather
+than the position of her features, that were so prolific of enchantment;
+or perhaps the wonder originated only in my own ignorance.
+
+She did not immediately notice me. When she did she almost shrieked with
+surprise. She held up her hands, and, gazing upon me, uttered various
+exclamations which I could not understand. I could only remark that her
+accents were thrillingly musical. Her perturbations refused to be
+stilled. It was with difficulty that she withdrew her regards from me.
+Much conversation passed between her and Welbeck, but I could comprehend
+no part of it. I was at liberty to animadvert on the visible part of
+their intercourse. I diverted some part of my attention from my own
+embarrassments, and fixed it on their looks.
+
+In this art, as in most others, I was an unpractised simpleton. In the
+countenance of Welbeck, there was somewhat else than sympathy with the
+astonishment and distress of the lady; but I could not interpret these
+additional tokens. When her attention was engrossed by Welbeck, her eyes
+were frequently vagrant or downcast; her cheeks contracted a deeper hue;
+and her breathing was almost prolonged into a sigh. These were marks on
+which I made no comments at the time. My own situation was calculated to
+breed confusion in my thoughts and awkwardness in my gestures. Breakfast
+being finished, the lady, apparently at the request of Welbeck, sat down
+to a piano-forte.
+
+Here again I must be silent. I was not wholly destitute of musical
+practice and musical taste. I had that degree of knowledge which enabled
+me to estimate the transcendent skill of this performer. As if the
+pathos of her touch were insufficient, I found after some time that the
+lawless jarrings of the keys were chastened by her own more liquid
+notes. She played without a book, and, though her bass might be
+preconcerted, it was plain that her right-hand notes were momentary and
+spontaneous inspirations. Meanwhile Welbeck stood, leaning his arms on
+the back of a chair near her, with his eyes fixed on her face. His
+features were fraught with a meaning which I was eager to interpret, but
+unable.
+
+I have read of transitions effected by magic; I have read of palaces and
+deserts which were subject to the dominion of spells; poets may sport
+with their power, but I am certain that no transition was ever conceived
+more marvellous and more beyond the reach of foresight than that which I
+had just experienced. Heaths vexed by a midnight storm may be changed
+into a hall of choral nymphs and regal banqueting; forest glades may
+give sudden place to colonnades and carnivals; but he whose senses are
+deluded finds himself still on his natal earth. These miracles are
+contemptible when compared with that which placed me under this roof and
+gave me to partake in this audience. I know that my emotions are in
+danger of being regarded as ludicrous by those who cannot figure to
+themselves the consequences of a limited and rustic education.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+In a short time the lady retired. I naturally expected that some
+comments would be made on her behaviour, and that the cause of her
+surprise and distress on seeing me would be explained; but Welbeck said
+nothing on that subject. When she had gone, he went to the window and
+stood for some time occupied, as it seemed, with his own thoughts. Then
+he turned to me, and, calling me by my name, desired me to accompany him
+up-stairs. There was neither cheerfulness nor mildness in his address,
+but neither was there any thing domineering or arrogant.
+
+We entered an apartment on the same floor with my chamber, but separated
+from it by a spacious entry. It was supplied with bureaus, cabinets, and
+bookcases. "This," said he, "is your room and mine; but we must enter it
+and leave it together. I mean to act not as your master but your friend.
+My maimed hand" (so saying, he showed me his right hand, the forefinger
+of which was wanting) "will not allow me to write accurately or
+copiously. For this reason I have required your aid, in a work of some
+moment. Much haste will not be requisite, and, as to the hours and
+duration of employment, these will be seasonable and short.
+
+"Your present situation is new to you, and we will therefore defer
+entering on our business. Meanwhile you may amuse yourself in what
+manner you please. Consider this house as your home and make yourself
+familiar with it. Stay within or go out, be busy or be idle, as your
+fancy shall prompt: only you will conform to our domestic system as to
+eating and sleep; the servants will inform you of this. Next week we
+will enter on the task for which I designed you. You may now withdraw."
+
+I obeyed this mandate with some awkwardness and hesitation. I went into
+my own chamber not displeased with an opportunity of loneliness. I threw
+myself on a chair and resigned myself to those thoughts which would
+naturally arise in this situation. I speculated on the character and
+views of Welbeck. I saw that he was embosomed in tranquillity and
+grandeur. Riches, therefore, were his; but in what did his opulence
+consist, and whence did it arise? What were the limits by which it was
+confined, and what its degree of permanence? I was unhabituated to ideas
+of floating or transferable wealth. The rent of houses and lands was the
+only species of property which was, as yet, perfectly intelligible. My
+previous ideas led me to regard Welbeck as the proprietor of this
+dwelling and of numerous houses and farms. By the same cause I was fain
+to suppose him enriched by inheritance, and that his life had been
+uniform.
+
+I next adverted to his social condition. This mansion appeared to have
+but two inhabitants besides servants. Who was the nymph who had hovered
+for a moment in my sight? Had he not called her his daughter? The
+apparent difference in their ages would justify this relation; but her
+guise, her features, and her accents, were foreign. Her language I
+suspected strongly to be that of Italy. How should he be the father of
+an Italian? But were there not some foreign lineaments in his
+countenance?
+
+This idea seemed to open a new world to my view. I had gained, from my
+books, confused ideas of European governments and manners. I knew that
+the present was a period of revolution and hostility. Might not these be
+illustrious fugitives from Provence or the Milanese? Their portable
+wealth, which may reasonably be supposed to be great, they have
+transported hither. Thus may be explained the sorrow that veils their
+countenance. The loss of estates and honours; the untimely death of
+kindred, and perhaps of his wife, may furnish eternal food for regrets.
+Welbeck's utterance, though rapid and distinct, partook, as I conceived,
+in some very slight degree of a foreign idiom.
+
+Such was the dream that haunted my undisciplined and unenlightened
+imagination. The more I revolved it, the more plausible it seemed. On
+due supposition every appearance that I had witnessed was easily
+solved,--unless it were their treatment of me. This, at first, was a
+source of hopeless perplexity. Gradually, however, a clue seemed to be
+afforded. Welbeck had betrayed astonishment on my first appearance. The
+lady's wonder was mingled with distress. Perhaps they discovered a
+remarkable resemblance between me and one who stood in the relation of
+son to Welbeck, and of brother to the lady. This youth might have
+perished on the scaffold or in war. These, no doubt, were his clothes.
+This chamber might have been reserved for him, but his death left it to
+be appropriated to another.
+
+I had hitherto been unable to guess at the reason why all this kindness
+had been lavished on me. Will not this conjecture sufficiently account
+for it? No wonder that this resemblance was enhanced by assuming his
+dress.
+
+Taking all circumstances into view, these ideas were not, perhaps,
+destitute of probability. Appearances naturally suggested them to me.
+They were, also, powerfully enforced by inclination. They threw me into
+transports of wonder and hope. When I dwelt upon the incidents of my
+past life, and traced the chain of events, from the death of my mother
+to the present moment, I almost acquiesced in the notion that some
+beneficent and ruling genius had prepared my path for me. Events which,
+when foreseen, would most ardently have been deprecated, and when they
+happened were accounted in the highest degree luckless, were now seen to
+be propitious. Hence I inferred the infatuation of despair, and the
+folly of precipitate conclusions.
+
+But what was the fate reserved for me? Perhaps Welbeck would adopt me
+for his own son. Wealth has ever been capriciously distributed. The mere
+physical relation of birth is all that entitles us to manors and
+thrones. Identity itself frequently depends upon a casual likeness or an
+old nurse's imposture. Nations have risen in arms, as in the case of the
+Stuarts, in the cause of one the genuineness of whose birth has been
+denied and can never be proved. But if the cause be trivial and
+fallacious, the effects are momentous and solid. It ascertains our
+portion of felicity and usefulness, and fixes our lot among peasants or
+princes.
+
+Something may depend upon my own deportment. Will it not behoove me to
+cultivate all my virtues and eradicate all my defects? I see that the
+abilities of this man are venerable. Perhaps he will not lightly or
+hastily decide in my favour. He will be governed by the proofs that I
+shall give of discernment and integrity. I had always been exempt from
+temptation, and was therefore undepraved; but this view of things had a
+wonderful tendency to invigorate my virtuous resolutions. All within me
+was exhilaration and joy.
+
+There was but one thing wanting to exalt me to a dizzy height and give
+me place among the stars of heaven. My resemblance to her brother had
+forcibly affected this lady; but I was not her brother. I was raised to
+a level with her and made a tenant of the same mansion. Some intercourse
+would take place between us. Time would lay level impediments and
+establish familiarity, and this intercourse might foster love and
+terminate in--_marriage_!
+
+These images were of a nature too glowing and expansive to allow me to
+be longer inactive. I sallied forth into the open air. This tumult of
+delicious thoughts in some time subsided, and gave way to images
+relative to my present situation. My curiosity was awake. As yet I had
+seen little of the city, and this opportunity for observation was not to
+be neglected. I therefore coursed through several streets, attentively
+examining the objects that successively presented themselves.
+
+At length, it occurred to me to search out the house in which I had
+lately been immured. I was not without hopes that at some future period
+I should be able to comprehend the allusions and brighten the
+obscurities that hung about the dialogue of last night.
+
+The house was easily discovered. I reconnoitred the court and gate
+through which I had passed. The mansion was of the first order in
+magnitude and decoration. This was not the bound of my present
+discovery, for I was gifted with that confidence which would make me set
+on foot inquiries in the neighbourhood. I looked around for a suitable
+medium of intelligence. The opposite and adjoining houses were small,
+and apparently occupied by persons of an indigent class. At one of these
+was a sign denoting it to be the residence of a tailor. Seated on a
+bench at the door was a young man, with coarse uncombed locks, breeches
+knee-unbuttoned, stockings ungartered, shoes slipshod and unbuckled, and
+a face unwashed, gazing stupidly from hollow eyes. His aspect was
+embellished with good nature, though indicative of ignorance.
+
+This was the only person in sight. He might be able to say something
+concerning his opulent neighbour. To him, therefore, I resolved to
+apply. I went up to him, and, pointing to the house in question, asked
+him who lived there.
+
+He answered, "Mr. Matthews."
+
+"What is his profession,--his way of life?"
+
+"A gentleman. He does nothing but walk about."
+
+"How long has he been married?"
+
+"Married! He is not married as I know on. He never has been married. He
+is a bachelor."
+
+This intelligence was unexpected. It made me pause to reflect whether I
+had not mistaken the house. This, however, seemed impossible. I renewed
+my questions.
+
+"A bachelor, say you? Are you not mistaken?"
+
+"No. It would be an odd thing if he was married. An old fellow, with one
+foot in the grave--Comical enough for him to _git_ a _vife_!"
+
+"An old man? Does he live alone? What is his family?"
+
+"No, he does not live alone. He has a niece that lives with him. She is
+married, and her husband lives there too."
+
+"What is his name?"
+
+"I don't know. I never heard it as I know on."
+
+"What is his trade?"
+
+"He's a merchant; he keeps a store somewhere or other; but I don't know
+where."
+
+"How long has he been married?"
+
+"About two years. They lost a child lately. The young woman was in a
+huge taking about it. They say she was quite crazy some days for the
+death of the child; and she is not quite out of _the dumps_ yet.
+To-be-sure, the child was a sweet little thing; but they need not make
+such a rout about it. I'll war'n' they'll have enough of them before
+they die."
+
+"What is the character of the young man? Where was he born and educated?
+Has he parents or brothers?"
+
+My companion was incapable of answering these questions, and I left him
+with little essential addition to the knowledge I already possessed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+After viewing various parts of the city, intruding into churches, and
+diving into alleys, I returned. The rest of the day I spent chiefly in
+my chamber, reflecting on my new condition; surveying my apartment, its
+presses and closets; and conjecturing the causes of appearances.
+
+At dinner and supper I was alone. Venturing to inquire of the servant
+where his master and mistress were, I was answered that they were
+engaged. I did not question him as to the nature of their engagement,
+though it was a fertile source of curiosity.
+
+Next morning, at breakfast, I again met Welbeck and the lady. The
+incidents were nearly those of the preceding morning, if it were not
+that the lady exhibited tokens of somewhat greater uneasiness. When she
+left us, Welbeck sank into apparent meditation. I was at a loss whether
+to retire or remain where I was. At last, however, I was on the point of
+leaving the room, when he broke silence and began a conversation with
+me.
+
+He put questions to me, the obvious scope of which was to know my
+sentiments on moral topics. I had no motives to conceal my opinions, and
+therefore delivered them with frankness. At length he introduced
+allusions to my own history, and made more particular inquiries on that
+head. Here I was not equally frank; yet I did not feign any thing, but
+merely dealt in generals. I had acquired notions of propriety on this
+head, perhaps somewhat fastidious. Minute details, respecting our own
+concerns, are apt to weary all but the narrator himself. I said thus
+much, and the truth of my remark was eagerly assented to.
+
+With some marks of hesitation and after various preliminaries, my
+companion hinted that my own interest, as well as his, enjoined upon me
+silence to all but himself, on the subject of my birth and early
+adventures. It was not likely that, while in his service, my circle of
+acquaintance would be large or my intercourse with the world frequent;
+but in my communication with others he requested me to speak rather of
+others than of myself. This request, he said, might appear singular to
+me, but he had his reasons for making it, which it was not necessary, at
+present, to disclose, though, when I should know them, I should readily
+acknowledge their validity.
+
+I scarcely knew what answer to make. I was willing to oblige him. I was
+far from expecting that any exigence would occur, making disclosure my
+duty. The employment was productive of pain more than of pleasure, and
+the curiosity that would uselessly seek a knowledge of my past life was
+no less impertinent than the loquacity that would uselessly communicate
+that knowledge. I readily promised, therefore, to adhere to his advice.
+
+This assurance afforded him evident satisfaction; yet it did not seem to
+amount to quite as much as he wished. He repeated, in stronger terms,
+the necessity there was for caution. He was far from suspecting me to
+possess an impertinent and talkative disposition, or that, in my
+eagerness to expatiate on my own concerns, I should overstep the limits
+of politeness. But this was not enough. I was to govern myself by a
+persuasion that the interests of my friend and myself would be
+materially affected by my conduct.
+
+Perhaps I ought to have allowed these insinuations to breed suspicion in
+my mind; but, conscious as I was of the benefits which I had received
+from this man; prone, from my inexperience, to rely upon professions and
+confide in appearances; and unaware that I could be placed in any
+condition in which mere silence respecting myself could be injurious or
+criminal, I made no scruple to promise compliance with his wishes. Nay,
+I went further than this; I desired to be accurately informed as to what
+it was proper to conceal. He answered that my silence might extend to
+every thing anterior to my arrival in the city and my being incorporated
+with his family. Here our conversation ended, and I retired to ruminate
+on what had passed.
+
+I derived little satisfaction from my reflections. I began now to
+perceive inconveniences that might arise from this precipitate promise.
+Whatever should happen in consequence of my being immured in the
+chamber, and of the loss of my clothes and of the portrait of my friend,
+I had bound myself to silence. These inquietudes, however, were
+transient. I trusted that these events would operate auspiciously; but
+my curiosity was now awakened as to the motives which _Welbeck_ could
+have for exacting from me this concealment. To act under the guidance of
+another, and to wander in the dark, ignorant whither my path tended and
+what effects might flow from my agency, was a new and irksome situation.
+
+From these thoughts I was recalled by a message from Welbeck. He gave me
+a folded paper, which he requested me to carry to No.--South Fourth
+Street. "Inquire," said he, "for Mrs. Wentworth, in order merely to
+ascertain the house, for you need not ask to see her; merely give the
+letter to the servant and retire. Excuse me for imposing this service
+upon you. It is of too great moment to be trusted to a common messenger;
+I usually perform it myself, but am at present otherwise engaged."
+
+I took the letter and set out to deliver it. This was a trifling
+circumstance, yet my mind was full of reflections on the consequences
+that might flow from it. I remembered the directions that were given,
+but construed them in a manner different, perhaps, from Welbeck's
+expectations or wishes. He had charged me to leave the billet with the
+servant who happened to answer my summons; but had he not said that the
+message was important, insomuch that it could not be intrusted to common
+hands? He had permitted, rather than enjoined, me to dispense with
+seeing the lady; and this permission I conceived to be dictated merely
+by regard to my convenience. It was incumbent on me, therefore, to take
+some pains to deliver the script into her own hands.
+
+I arrived at the house and knocked. A female servant appeared. "Her
+mistress was up-stairs; she would tell her if I wished to see her," and
+meanwhile invited me to enter the parlour; I did so; and the girl
+retired to inform her mistress that one waited for her. I ought to
+mention that my departure from the directions which I had received was,
+in some degree, owing to an inquisitive temper; I was eager after
+knowledge, and was disposed to profit by every opportunity to survey the
+interior of dwellings and converse with their inhabitants.
+
+I scanned the walls, the furniture, the pictures. Over the fireplace was
+a portrait in oil of a female. She was elderly and matron-like. Perhaps
+she was the mistress of this habitation, and the person to whom I should
+immediately be introduced. Was it a casual suggestion, or was there an
+actual resemblance between the strokes of the pencil which executed this
+portrait and that of Clavering? However that be, the sight of this
+picture revived the memory of my friend and called up a fugitive
+suspicion that this was the production of his skill.
+
+I was busily revolving this idea when the lady herself entered. It was
+the same whose portrait I had been examining. She fixed scrutinizing and
+powerful eyes upon me. She looked at the superscription of the letter
+which I presented, and immediately resumed her examination of me. I was
+somewhat abashed by the closeness of her observation, and gave tokens of
+this state of mind which did not pass unobserved. They seemed instantly
+to remind her that she behaved with too little regard to civility. She
+recovered herself and began to peruse the letter. Having done this, her
+attention was once more fixed upon me. She was evidently desirous of
+entering into some conversation, but seemed at a loss in what manner to
+begin. This situation was new to me and was productive of no small
+embarrassment. I was preparing to take my leave when she spoke, though
+not without considerable hesitation:--
+
+"This letter is from Mr. Welbeck--you are his friend--I
+presume--perhaps--a relation?"
+
+I was conscious that I had no claim to either of these titles, and that
+I was no more than his servant. My pride would not allow me to
+acknowledge this, and I merely said, "I live with him at present,
+madam."
+
+I imagined that this answer did not perfectly satisfy her; yet she
+received it with a certain air of acquiescence. She was silent for a few
+minutes, and then, rising, said, "Excuse me, sir, for a few minutes. I
+will write a few words to Mr. Welbeck." So saying, she withdrew.
+
+I returned to the contemplation of the picture. From this, however, my
+attention was quickly diverted by a paper that lay on the mantel. A
+single glance was sufficient to put my blood into motion. I started and
+laid my hand upon the well-known packet. It was that which enclosed the
+portrait of Clavering!
+
+I unfolded and examined it with eagerness. By what miracle came it
+hither? It was found, together with my bundle, two nights before. I had
+despaired of ever seeing it again, and yet here was the same portrait
+enclosed in the selfsame paper! I have forborne to dwell upon the
+regret, amounting to grief, with which I was affected in consequence of
+the loss of this precious relic. My joy on thus speedily and
+unexpectedly regaining it is not easily described.
+
+For a time I did not reflect that to hold it thus in my hand was not
+sufficient to entitle me to repossession. I must acquaint this lady with
+the history of this picture, and convince her of my ownership. But how
+was this to be done? Was she connected in any way, by friendship or by
+consanguinity, with that unfortunate youth? If she were, some
+information as to his destiny would be anxiously sought. I did not, just
+then, perceive any impropriety in imparting it. If it came into her
+hands by accident, still, it will be necessary to relate the mode in
+which it was lost in order to prove my title to it.
+
+I now heard her descending footsteps, and hastily replaced the picture
+on the mantel. She entered, and, presenting me a letter, desired me to
+deliver it to Mr. Welbeck. I had no pretext for deferring my departure,
+but was unwilling to go without obtaining possession of the portrait. An
+interval of silence and irresolution succeeded. I cast significant
+glances at the spot where it lay, and at length mustered up my strength
+of mind, and, pointing to the paper,--"Madam," said I, "_there_ is
+something which I recognise to be mine: I know not how it came into your
+possession, but so lately as the day before yesterday it was in mine. I
+lost it by a strange accident, and, as I deem it of inestimable value, I
+hope you will have no objection to restore it."
+
+During this speech the lady's countenance exhibited marks of the utmost
+perturbation. "Your picture!" she exclaimed; "you lost it! How? Where?
+Did you know that person? What has become of him?"
+
+"I knew him well," said I. "That picture was executed by himself. He
+gave it to me with his own hands; and, till the moment I unfortunately
+lost it, it was my dear and perpetual companion."
+
+"Good heaven!" she exclaimed, with increasing vehemence; "where did you
+meet with him? What has become of him? Is he dead, or alive?"
+
+These appearances sufficiently showed me that Clavering and this lady
+were connected by some ties of tenderness. I answered that he was dead;
+that my mother and myself were his attendants and nurses, and that this
+portrait was his legacy to me.
+
+This intelligence melted her into tears, and it was some time before she
+recovered strength enough to resume the conversation. She then inquired,
+"When and where was it that he died? How did you lose this portrait? It
+was found wrapped in some coarse clothes, lying in a stall in the
+market-house, on Saturday evening. Two negro women, servants of one of
+my friends, strolling through the market, found it and brought it to
+their mistress, who, recognising the portrait, sent it to me. To whom
+did that bundle belong? Was it yours?"
+
+These questions reminded me of the painful predicament in which I now
+stood. I had promised Welbeck to conceal from every one my former
+condition; but to explain in what manner this bundle was lost, and how
+my intercourse with Clavering had taken place, was to violate this
+promise. It was possible, perhaps, to escape the confession of the truth
+by equivocation. Falsehoods were easily invented, and might lead her far
+away from my true condition; but I was wholly unused to equivocation.
+Never yet had a lie polluted my lips. I was not weak enough to be
+ashamed of my origin. This lady had an interest in the fate of
+Clavering, and might justly claim all the information which I was able
+to impart. Yet to forget the compact which I had so lately made, and an
+adherence to which might possibly be in the highest degree beneficial to
+me and to Welbeck; I was willing to adhere to it, provided falsehood
+could be avoided.
+
+These thoughts rendered me silent. The pain of my embarrassment amounted
+almost to agony. I felt the keenest regret at my own precipitation in
+claiming the picture. Its value to me was altogether imaginary. The
+affection which this lady had borne the original, whatever was the
+source of that affection, would prompt her to cherish the copy, and,
+however precious it was in my eyes, I should cheerfully resign it to
+her.
+
+In the confusion of my thoughts an expedient suggested itself
+sufficiently inartificial and bold. "It is true, madam, what I have
+said. I saw him breathe his last. This is his only legacy. If you wish
+it I willingly resign it; but this is all that I can now disclose. I am
+placed in circumstances which render it improper to say more."
+
+These words were uttered not very distinctly, and the lady's vehemence
+hindered her from noticing them. She again repeated her interrogations,
+to which I returned the same answer.
+
+At first she expressed the utmost surprise at my conduct. From this she
+descended to some degree of asperity. She made rapid allusions to the
+history of Clavering. He was the son of the gentleman who owned the
+house in which Welbeck resided. He was the object of immeasurable
+fondness and indulgence. He had sought permission to travel, and, this
+being refused by the absurd timidity of his parents, he had twice been
+frustrated in attempting to embark for Europe clandestinely. They
+ascribed his disappearance to a third and successful attempt of this
+kind, and had exercised anxious and unwearied diligence in endeavouring
+to trace his footsteps. All their efforts had failed. One motive for
+their returning to Europe was the hope of discovering some traces of
+him, as they entertained no doubt of his having crossed the ocean. The
+vehemence of Mrs. Wentworth's curiosity as to those particulars of his
+life and death may be easily conceived. My refusal only heightened this
+passion.
+
+Finding me refractory to all her efforts, she at length dismissed me in
+anger.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+This extraordinary interview was now past. Pleasure as well as pain
+attended my reflections on it. I adhered to the promise I had
+improvidently given to Welbeck, but had excited displeasure, and perhaps
+suspicion, in the lady. She would find it hard to account for my
+silence. She would probably impute it to perverseness, or imagine it to
+flow from some incident connected with the death of Clavering,
+calculated to give a new edge to her curiosity.
+
+It was plain that some connection subsisted between her and Welbeck.
+Would she drop the subject at the point which it had now attained? Would
+she cease to exert herself to extract from me the desired information,
+or would she not rather make Welbeck a party in the cause, and prejudice
+my new friend against me? This was an evil proper, by all lawful means,
+to avoid. I knew of no other expedient than to confess to him the truth
+with regard to Clavering, and explain to him the dilemma in which my
+adherence to my promise had involved me.
+
+I found him on my return home, and delivered him the letter with which I
+was charged. At the sight of it, surprise, mingled with some uneasiness,
+appeared in his looks. "What!" said he, in a tone of disappointment,
+"you then saw the lady?"
+
+I now remembered his directions to leave my message at the door, and
+apologized for my neglecting them by telling my reasons. His chagrin
+vanished, but not without an apparent effort, and he said that all was
+well; the affair was of no moment.
+
+After a pause of preparation, I entreated his attention to something
+which I had to relate. I then detailed the history of Clavering and of
+my late embarrassments. As I went on, his countenance betokened
+increasing solicitude. His emotion was particularly strong when I came
+to the interrogatories of Mrs. Wentworth in relation to Clavering; but
+this emotion gave way to profound surprise when I related the manner in
+which I had eluded her inquiries. I concluded with observing that, when
+I promised forbearance on the subject of my own adventures, I had not
+foreseen any exigence which would make an adherence to my promise
+difficult or inconvenient; that, if his interest was promoted by my
+silence, I was still willing to maintain it, and requested his
+directions how to conduct myself on this occasion.
+
+He appeared to ponder deeply and with much perplexity on what I had
+said. When he spoke there was hesitation in his manner and circuity in
+his expressions, that proved him to have something in his thoughts which
+he knew not how to communicate. He frequently paused; but my answers and
+remarks, occasionally given, appeared to deter him from the revelation
+of his purpose. Our discourse ended, for the present, by his desiring me
+to persist in my present plan; I should suffer no inconveniences from
+it, since it would be my own fault if an interview again took place
+between the lady and me; meanwhile he should see her and effectually
+silence her inquiries.
+
+I ruminated not superficially or briefly on this dialogue. By what means
+would he silence her inquiries? He surely meant not to mislead her by
+fallacious representations. Some inquietude now crept into my thoughts.
+I began to form conjectures as to the nature of the scheme to which my
+suppression of the truth was to be thus made subservient. It seemed as
+if I were walking in the dark and might rush into snares or drop into
+pits before I was aware of my danger. Each moment accumulated my doubts,
+and I cherished a secret foreboding that the event would prove my new
+situation to be far less fortunate than I had, at first, fondly
+believed. The question now occurred, with painful repetition, who and
+what was Welbeck? What was his relation to this foreign lady? What was
+the service for which I was to be employed?
+
+I could not be contented without a solution of these mysteries. Why
+should I not lay my soul open before my new friend? Considering my
+situation, would he regard my fears and my surmises as criminal? I felt
+that they originated in laudable habits and views. My peace of mind
+depended on the favourable verdict which conscience should pass on my
+proceedings. I saw the emptiness of fame and luxury, when put in the
+balance against the recompense of virtue. Never would I purchase the
+blandishments of adulation and the glare of opulence at the price of my
+honesty.
+
+Amidst these reflections the dinner-hour arrived. The lady and Welbeck
+were present. A new train of sentiments now occupied my mind. I regarded
+them both with inquisitive eyes. I cannot well account for the
+revolution which had taken place in my mind. Perhaps it was a proof of
+the capriciousness of my temper, or it was merely the fruit of my
+profound ignorance of life and manners. Whencesoever it arose, certain
+it is that I contemplated the scene before me with altered eyes. Its
+order and pomp was no longer the parent of tranquillity and awe. My wild
+reveries of inheriting this splendour and appropriating the affections
+of this nymph, I now regarded as lunatic hope and childish folly.
+Education and nature had qualified me for a different scene. This might
+be the mask of misery and the structure of vice.
+
+My companions as well as myself were silent during the meal. The lady
+retired as soon as it was finished. My inexplicable melancholy
+increased. It did not pass unnoticed by Welbeck, who inquired, with an
+air of kindness, into the cause of my visible dejection. I am almost
+ashamed to relate to what extremes my folly transported me. Instead of
+answering him, I was weak enough to shed tears.
+
+This excited afresh his surprise and his sympathy. He renewed his
+inquiries; my heart was full, but how to disburden it I knew not. At
+length, with some difficulty, I expressed my wishes to leave his house
+and return into the country.
+
+What, he asked, had occurred to suggest this new plan? What motive could
+incite me to bury myself in rustic obscurity? How did I purpose to
+dispose of myself? Had some new friend sprung up more able or more
+willing to benefit me than he had been?
+
+"No," I answered, "I have no relation who would own me, or friend who
+would protect. If I went into the country it would be to the toilsome
+occupations of a day-labourer; but even that was better than my present
+situation."
+
+This opinion, he observed, must be newly formed. What was there irksome
+or offensive in my present mode of life?
+
+That this man condescended to expostulate with me; to dissuade me from
+my new plan; and to enumerate the benefits which he was willing to
+confer, penetrated my heart with gratitude. I could not but acknowledge
+that leisure and literature, copious and elegant accommodation, were
+valuable for their own sake; that all the delights of sensation and
+refinements of intelligence were comprised within my present sphere, and
+would be nearly wanting in that to which I was going. I felt temporary
+compunction for my folly, and determined to adopt a different
+deportment. I could not prevail upon myself to unfold the true cause of
+my dejection, and permitted him therefore to ascribe it to a kind of
+homesickness; to inexperience; and to that ignorance which, on being
+ushered into a new scene, is oppressed with a sensation of forlornness.
+He remarked that these chimeras would vanish before the influence of
+time, and company, and occupation. On the next week he would furnish me
+with employment; meanwhile he would introduce me into company, where
+intelligence and vivacity would combine to dispel my glooms.
+
+As soon as we separated, my disquietudes returned. I contended with them
+in vain, and finally resolved to abandon my present situation. When and
+how this purpose was to be effected I knew not. That was to be the theme
+of future deliberation.
+
+Evening having arrived, Welbeck proposed to me to accompany me on a
+visit to one of his friends. I cheerfully accepted the invitation, and
+went with him to your friend Mr. Wortley's. A numerous party was
+assembled, chiefly of the female sex. I was introduced by Welbeck by
+the title of _a young friend of his_. Notwithstanding my embarrassment,
+I did not fail to attend to what passed on this occasion. I remarked
+that the utmost deference was paid to my companion, on whom his entrance
+into this company appeared to operate like magic. His eyes sparkled; his
+features expanded into a benign serenity; and his wonted reserve gave
+place to a torrent-like and overflowing elocution.
+
+I marked this change in his deportment with the utmost astonishment. So
+great was it, that I could hardly persuade myself that it was the same
+person. A mind thus susceptible of new impressions must be, I conceived,
+of a wonderful texture. Nothing was further from my expectations than
+that this vivacity was mere dissimulation and would take its leave of
+him when he left the company; yet this I found to be the case. The door
+was no sooner closed after him than his accustomed solemnity returned.
+He spake little, and that little was delivered with emphatical and
+monosyllabic brevity.
+
+We returned home at a late hour, and I immediately retired to my
+chamber, not so much from the desire of repose as in order to enjoy and
+pursue my own reflections without interruption.
+
+The condition of my mind was considerably remote from happiness. I was
+placed in a scene that furnished fuel to my curiosity. This passion is a
+source of pleasure, provided its gratification be practicable. I had no
+reason, in my present circumstances, to despair of knowledge; yet
+suspicion and anxiety beset me. I thought upon the delay and toil which
+the removal of my ignorance would cost, and reaped only pain and fear
+from the reflection.
+
+The air was remarkably sultry. Lifted sashes and lofty ceilings were
+insufficient to attemper it. The perturbation of my thoughts affected my
+body, and the heat which oppressed me was aggravated, by my
+restlessness, almost into fever. Some hours were thus painfully past,
+when I recollected that the bath, erected in the court below, contained
+a sufficient antidote to the scorching influence of the atmosphere.
+
+I rose, and descended the stairs softly, that I might not alarm Welbeck
+and the lady, who occupied the two rooms on the second floor. I
+proceeded to the bath, and, filling the reservoir with water, speedily
+dissipated the heat that incommoded me. Of all species of sensual
+gratification, that was the most delicious; and I continued for a long
+time laving my limbs and moistening my hair. In the midst of this
+amusement, I noticed the approach of day, and immediately saw the
+propriety of returning to my chamber. I returned with the same caution
+which I had used in descending; my feet were bare, so that it was easy
+to proceed unattended by the smallest signal of my progress.
+
+I had reached the carpeted staircase, and was slowly ascending, when I
+heard, within the chamber that was occupied by the lady, a noise, as of
+some one moving. Though not conscious of having acted improperly, yet I
+felt reluctance to be seen. There was no reason to suppose that this
+sound was connected with the detection of me in this situation; yet I
+acted as if this reason existed, and made haste to pass the door and
+gain the second flight of steps.
+
+I was unable to accomplish my design, when the chamber door slowly
+opened, and Welbeck, with a light in his hand, came out. I was abashed
+and disconcerted at this interview. He started at seeing me; but,
+discovering in an instant who it was, his face assumed an expression in
+which shame and anger were powerfully blended. He seemed on the point of
+opening his mouth to rebuke me; but, suddenly checking himself, he said,
+in a tone of mildness, "How is this? Whence come you?"
+
+His emotion seemed to communicate itself, with an electrical rapidity,
+to my heart. My tongue faltered while I made some answer. I said, "I had
+been seeking relief from the heat of the weather, in the bath." He heard
+my explanation in silence; and, after a moment's pause, passed into his
+own room, and shut himself in. I hastened to my chamber.
+
+A different observer might have found in these circumstances no food for
+his suspicion or his wonder. To me, however, they suggested vague and
+tumultuous ideas.
+
+As I strode across the room I repeated, "This woman is his daughter.
+What proof have I of that? He once asserted it; and has frequently
+uttered allusions and hints from which no other inference could be
+drawn. The chamber from which he came, in an hour devoted to sleep, was
+hers. For what end could a visit like this be paid? A parent may visit
+his child at all seasons, without a crime. On seeing me, methought his
+features indicated more than surprise. A keen interpreter would be apt
+to suspect a consciousness of wrong. What if this woman be not his
+child! How shall their relationship be ascertained?"
+
+I was summoned at the customary hour to breakfast. My mind was full of
+ideas connected with this incident. I was not endowed with sufficient
+firmness to propose the cool and systematic observation of this man's
+deportment. I felt as if the state of my mind could not but be evident
+to him; and experienced in myself all the confusion which this discovery
+was calculated to produce in him. I would have willingly excused myself
+from meeting him; but that was impossible.
+
+At breakfast, after the usual salutations, nothing was said. For a time
+I scarcely lifted my eyes from the table. Stealing a glance at Welbeck,
+I discovered in his features nothing but his wonted gravity. He appeared
+occupied with thoughts that had no relation to last night's adventure.
+This encouraged me; and I gradually recovered my composure. Their
+inattention to me allowed me occasionally to throw scrutinizing and
+comparing glances at the face of each.
+
+The relationship of parent and child is commonly discovered in the
+visage; but the child may resemble either of its parents, yet have no
+feature in common with both. Here outlines, surfaces, and hues were in
+absolute contrariety. That kindred subsisted between them was possible,
+notwithstanding this dissimilitude; but this circumstance contributed to
+envenom my suspicions.
+
+Breakfast being finished, Welbeck cast an eye of invitation to the
+piano-forte. The lady rose to comply with his request. My eye chanced
+to be, at that moment, fixed on her. In stepping to the instrument, some
+motion or appearance awakened a thought in my mind which affected my
+feelings like the shock of an earthquake.
+
+I have too slight acquaintance with the history of the passions to truly
+explain the emotion which now throbbed in my veins. I had been a
+stranger to what is called love. From subsequent reflection, I have
+contracted a suspicion that the sentiment with which I regarded this
+lady was not untinctured from this source, and that hence arose the
+turbulence of my feelings on observing what I construed into marks of
+pregnancy. The evidence afforded me was slight; yet it exercised an
+absolute sway over my belief.
+
+It was well that this suspicion had not been sooner excited. Now
+civility did not require my stay in the apartment, and nothing but
+flight could conceal the state of my mind. I hastened, therefore, to a
+distance, and shrouded myself in the friendly secrecy of my own chamber.
+
+The constitution of my mind is doubtless singular and perverse; yet that
+opinion, perhaps, is the fruit of my ignorance. It may by no means be
+uncommon for men to _fashion_ their conclusions in opposition to
+evidence and _probability_, and so as to feed their malice and subvert
+their happiness. Thus it was, in an eminent degree, in my case. The
+simple fact was connected, in my mind, with a train of the most hateful
+consequences. The depravity of Welbeck was inferred from it. The charms
+of this angelic woman were tarnished and withered. I had formerly
+surveyed her as a precious and perfect monument, but now it was a scene
+of ruin and blast.
+
+This had been a source of sufficient anguish; but this was not all. I
+recollected that the claims of a parent had been urged. Will you believe
+that these claims were now admitted, and that they heightened the
+iniquity of Welbeck into the blackest and most stupendous of all crimes?
+These ideas were necessarily transient. Conclusions more conformable to
+appearances succeeded. This lady might have been lately reduced to
+widowhood. The recent loss of a beloved companion would sufficiently
+account for her dejection, and make her present situation compatible
+with duty.
+
+By this new train of ideas I was somewhat comforted. I saw the folly of
+precipitate inferences and the injustice of my atrocious imputations,
+and acquired some degree of patience in my present state of uncertainty.
+My heart was lightened of its wonted burden, and I laboured to invent
+some harmless explication of the scene that I had witnessed the
+preceding night.
+
+At dinner Welbeck appeared as usual, but not the lady. I ascribed her
+absence to some casual indisposition, and ventured to inquire into the
+state of her health. My companion said she was well, but that she had
+left the city for a month or two, finding the heat of summer
+inconvenient where she was. This was no unplausible reason for
+retirement. A candid mind would have acquiesced in this representation,
+and found in it nothing inconsistent with a supposition respecting the
+cause of appearances favourable to her character; but otherwise was I
+affected. The uneasiness which had flown for a moment returned, and I
+sunk into gloomy silence.
+
+From this I was roused by my patron, who requested me to deliver a
+billet, which he put into my hand, at the counting-house of Mr.
+Thetford, and to bring him an answer. This message was speedily
+performed. I entered a large building by the river-side. A spacious
+apartment presented itself, well furnished with pipes and hogsheads. In
+one corner was a smaller room, in which a gentleman was busy at writing.
+I advanced to the door of the room, but was there met by a young person,
+who received my paper and delivered it to him within. I stood still at
+the door; but was near enough to overhear what would pass between them.
+
+The letter was laid upon the desk, and presently he that sat at it
+lifted his eyes and glanced at the superscription. He scarcely spoke
+above a whisper; but his words, nevertheless, were clearly
+distinguishable. I did not call to mind the sound of his voice, but his
+words called up a train of recollections.
+
+"Lo!" said he, carelessly, "this from the _Nabob_!"
+
+An incident so slight as this was sufficient to open a spacious scene
+of meditation. This little word, half whispered in a thoughtless mood,
+was a key to unlock an extensive cabinet of secrets. Thetford was
+probably indifferent whether his exclamation were overheard. Little did
+he think on the inferences which would be built upon it.
+
+"The Nabob!" By this appellation had some one been denoted in the
+chamber dialogue of which I had been an unsuspected auditor. The man who
+pretended poverty, and yet gave proofs of inordinate wealth; whom it was
+pardonable to defraud of thirty thousand dollars; first, because the
+loss of that sum would be trivial to one opulent as he; and, secondly,
+because he was imagined to have acquired this opulence by other than
+honest methods. Instead of forthwith returning home, I wandered into the
+fields, to indulge myself in the new thoughts which were produced by
+this occurrence.
+
+I entertained no doubt that the person alluded to was my patron. No new
+light was thrown upon his character; unless something were deducible
+from the charge vaguely made, that his wealth was the fruit of illicit
+practices. He was opulent, and the sources of his wealth were unknown,
+if not to the rest of the community, at least to Thetford. But here had
+a plot been laid. The fortune of Thetford's brother was to rise from the
+success of artifices of which the credulity of Welbeck was to be the
+victim. To detect and to counterwork this plot was obviously my duty. My
+interference might now indeed be too late to be useful; but this was at
+least to be ascertained by experiment.
+
+How should my intention be effected? I had hitherto concealed from
+Welbeck my adventures at Thetford's house. These it was now necessary to
+disclose, and to mention the recent occurrence. My deductions, in
+consequence of my ignorance, might be erroneous; but of their truth his
+knowledge of his own affairs would enable him to judge. It was possible
+that Thetford and he whose chamber conversation I had overheard were
+different persons. I endeavoured in vain to ascertain their identity by
+a comparison of their voices. The words lately heard, my remembrance
+did not enable me certainly to pronounce to be uttered by the same
+organs.
+
+This uncertainty was of little moment. It sufficed that Welbeck was
+designated by this appellation, and that therefore he was proved to be
+the subject of some fraudulent proceeding. The information that I
+possessed it was my duty to communicate as expeditiously as possible. I
+was resolved to employ the first opportunity that offered for this end.
+
+My meditations had been ardently pursued, and, when I recalled my
+attention, I found myself bewildered among fields and fences. It was
+late before I extricated myself from unknown paths, and reached home.
+
+I entered the parlour; but Welbeck was not there. A table, with
+tea-equipage for one person, was set; from which I inferred that Welbeck
+was engaged abroad. This belief was confirmed by the report of the
+servant. He could not inform me where his master was, but merely that he
+should not take tea at home. This incident was a source of vexation and
+impatience. I knew not but that delay would be of the utmost moment to
+the safety of my friend. Wholly unacquainted as I was with the nature of
+his contracts with Thetford, I could not decide whether a single hour
+would not avail to obviate the evils that threatened him. Had I known
+whither to trace his footsteps, I should certainly have sought an
+immediate interview; but, as it was, I was obliged to wait, with what
+patience I could collect, for his return to his own house.
+
+I waited hour after hour in vain. The sun declined, and the shades of
+evening descended; but Welbeck was still at a distance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Welbeck did not return, though hour succeeded hour till the clock struck
+ten. I inquired of the servants, who informed me that their master was
+not accustomed to stay out so late. I seated myself at a table, in a
+parlour, on which there stood a light, and listened for the signal of
+his coming, either by the sound of steps on the pavement without or by a
+peal from the bell. The silence was uninterrupted and profound, and each
+minute added to my sum of impatience and anxiety.
+
+To relieve myself from the heat of the weather, which was aggravated by
+the condition of my thoughts, as well as to beguile this tormenting
+interval, it occurred to me to betake myself to the bath. I left the
+candle where it stood, and imagined that even in the bath I should hear
+the sound of the bell which would be rung upon his arrival at the door.
+
+No such signal occurred, and, after taking this refreshment, I prepared
+to return to my post. The parlour was still unoccupied, but this was not
+all; the candle I had left upon the table was gone. This was an
+inexplicable circumstance. On my promise to wait for their master, the
+servants had retired to bed. No signal of any one's entrance had been
+given. The street door was locked, and the key hung at its customary
+place upon the wall. What was I to think? It was obvious to suppose that
+the candle had been removed by a domestic; but their footsteps could not
+be traced, and I was not sufficiently acquainted with the house to find
+the way, especially immersed in darkness, to their chamber. One measure,
+however, it was evidently proper to take, which was to supply myself,
+anew, with a light. This was instantly performed; but what was next to
+be done?
+
+I was weary of the perplexities in which I was embroiled. I saw no
+avenue to escape from them but that which led me to the bosom of nature
+and to my ancient occupations. For a moment I was tempted to resume my
+rustic garb, and, on that very hour, to desert this habitation. One
+thing only detained me; the desire to apprize my patron of the treachery
+of Thetford. For this end I was anxious to obtain an interview; but now
+I reflected that this information could by other means be imparted. Was
+it not sufficient to write him briefly these particulars, and leave him
+to profit by the knowledge? Thus I might, likewise, acquaint him with my
+motives for thus abruptly and unseasonably deserting his service.
+
+To the execution of this scheme pen and paper were necessary. The
+business of writing was performed in the chamber on the third story. I
+had been hitherto denied access to this room. In it was a show of papers
+and books. Here it was that the task, for which I had been retained, was
+to be performed; but I was to enter it and leave it only in company with
+Welbeck. For what reasons, I asked, was this procedure to be adopted?
+
+The influence of prohibitions and an appearance of disguise in awakening
+curiosity is well known. My mind fastened upon the idea of this room
+with an unusual degree of intenseness. I had seen it but for a moment.
+Many of Welbeck's hours were spent in it. It was not to be inferred that
+they were consumed in idleness: what then was the nature of his
+employment over which a veil of such impenetrable secrecy was cast?
+
+Will you wonder that the design of entering this recess was insensibly
+formed? Possibly it was locked, but its accessibleness was likewise
+possible. I meant not the commission of any crime. My principal purpose
+was to procure the implements of writing, which were elsewhere not to be
+found. I should neither unseal papers nor open drawers. I would merely
+take a survey of the volumes and attend to the objects that
+spontaneously presented themselves to my view. In this there surely was
+nothing criminal or blameworthy. Meanwhile I was not unmindful of the
+sudden disappearance of the candle. This incident filled my bosom with
+the inquietudes of fear and the perturbations of wonder.
+
+Once more I paused to catch any sound that might arise from without. All
+was still. I seized the candle and prepared to mount the stairs. I had
+not reached the first landing when I called to mind my midnight meeting
+with Welbeck at the door of his daughter's chamber. The chamber was now
+desolate; perhaps it was accessible; if so, no injury was done by
+entering it. My curiosity was strong, but it pictured to itself no
+precise object. Three steps would bear me to the door. The trial,
+whether it was fastened, might be made in a moment; and I readily
+imagined that something might be found within to reward the trouble of
+examination. The door yielded to my hand, and I entered.
+
+No remarkable object was discoverable. The apartment was supplied with
+the usual furniture. I bent my steps towards a table over which a mirror
+was suspended. My glances, which roved with swiftness from one object to
+another, shortly lighted on a miniature portrait that hung near. I
+scrutinized it with eagerness. It was impossible to overlook its
+resemblance to my own visage. This was so great that for a moment I
+imagined myself to have been the original from which it had been drawn.
+This flattering conception yielded place to a belief merely of
+similitude between me and the genuine original.
+
+The thoughts which this opinion was fitted to produce were suspended by
+a new object. A small volume, that had, apparently, been much used, lay
+upon the toilet. I opened it, and found it to contain some of the Dramas
+of Apostolo Zeno. I turned over the leaves; a written paper saluted my
+sight. A single glance informed me that it was English. For the present
+I was insensible to all motives that would command me to forbear. I
+seized the paper with an intention to peruse it.
+
+At that moment a stunning report was heard. It was loud enough to shake
+the walls of the apartment, and abrupt enough to throw me into tremors.
+I dropped the book and yielded for a moment to confusion and surprise.
+From what quarter it came, I was unable accurately to determine; but
+there could be no doubt, from its loudness, that it was near, and even
+in the house. It was no less manifest that the sound arose from the
+discharge of a pistol. Some hand must have drawn the trigger. I
+recollected the disappearance of the candle from the room below.
+Instantly a supposition darted into my mind which made my hair rise and
+my teeth chatter.
+
+"This," I said, "is the deed of Welbeck. He entered while I was absent
+from the room; he hied to his chamber; and, prompted by some unknown
+instigation, has inflicted on himself death!" This idea had a tendency
+to palsy my limbs and my thoughts. Some time passed in painful and
+tumultuous fluctuation. My aversion to this catastrophe, rather than a
+belief of being, by that means, able to prevent or repair the evil,
+induced me to attempt to enter his chamber. It was possible that my
+conjectures were erroneous.
+
+The door of his room was locked. I knocked; I demanded entrance in a low
+voice; I put my eye and my ear to the keyhole and the crevices; nothing
+could be heard or seen. It was unavoidable to conclude that no one was
+within; yet the effluvia of gunpowder was perceptible.
+
+Perhaps the room above had been the scene of this catastrophe. I
+ascended the second flight of stairs. I approached the door. No sound
+could be caught by my most vigilant attention. I put out the light that
+I carried, and was then able to perceive that there was light within the
+room. I scarcely knew how to act. For some minutes I paused at the door.
+I spoke, and requested permission to enter. My words were succeeded by a
+death-like stillness. At length I ventured softly to withdraw the bolt,
+to open and to advance within the room. Nothing could exceed the horror
+of my expectation; yet I was startled by the scene that I beheld.
+
+In a chair, whose back was placed against the front wall, sat Welbeck.
+My entrance alarmed him not, nor roused him from the stupor into which
+he was plunged. He rested his hands upon his knees, and his eyes were
+riveted to something that lay, at the distance of a few feet before
+him, on the floor. A second glance was sufficient to inform me of what
+nature this object was. It was the body of a man, bleeding, ghastly, and
+still exhibiting the marks of convulsion and agony!
+
+I shall omit to describe the shock which a spectacle like this
+communicated to my unpractised senses. I was nearly as panic-struck and
+powerless as Welbeck himself. I gazed, without power of speech, at one
+time, at Welbeck; then I fixed terrified eyes on the distorted features
+of the dead. At length, Welbeck, recovering from his reverie, looked up,
+as if to see who it was that had entered. No surprise, no alarm, was
+betrayed by him on seeing me. He manifested no desire or intention to
+interrupt the fearful silence.
+
+My thoughts wandered in confusion and terror. The first impulse was to
+fly from the scene; but I could not be long insensible to the exigences
+of the moment. I saw that affairs must not be suffered to remain in
+their present situation. The insensibility or despair of Welbeck
+required consolation and succour. How to communicate my thoughts, or
+offer my assistance, I knew not. What led to this murderous catastrophe;
+who it was whose breathless corpse was before me; what concern Welbeck
+had in producing his death; were as yet unknown.
+
+At length he rose from his seat, and strode at first with faltering, and
+then with more steadfast steps, across the floor. This motion seemed to
+put him in possession of himself. He seemed now, for the first time, to
+recognise my presence. He turned to me, and said, in a tone of
+severity,--
+
+"How now? What brings you here?"
+
+This rebuke was unexpected. I stammered out, in reply, that the report
+of the pistol had alarmed me, and that I came to discover the cause of
+it.
+
+He noticed not my answer, but resumed his perturbed steps, and his
+anxious but abstracted looks. Suddenly he checked himself, and, glancing
+a furious eye at the corpse, he muttered, "Yes, the die is cast. This
+worthless and miserable scene shall last no longer. I will at once get
+rid of life and all its humiliations."
+
+Here succeeded a new pause. The course of his thoughts seemed now to
+become once more tranquil. Sadness, rather than fury, overspread his
+features; and his accent, when he spoke to me, was not faltering, but
+solemn.
+
+"Mervyn," said he, "you comprehend not this scene. Your youth and
+inexperience make you a stranger to a deceitful and flagitious world.
+You know me not. It is time that this ignorance should vanish. The
+knowledge of me and of my actions may be of use to you. It may teach you
+to avoid the shoals on which my virtue and my peace have been wrecked;
+but to the rest of mankind it can be of no use. The ruin of my fame is,
+perhaps, irretrievable; but the height of my iniquity need not be known.
+I perceive in you a rectitude and firmness worthy to be trusted; promise
+me, therefore, that not a syllable of what I tell you shall ever pass
+your lips."
+
+I had lately experienced the inconvenience of a promise; but I was now
+confused, embarrassed, ardently inquisitive as to the nature of this
+scene, and unapprized of the motives that might afterwards occur,
+persuading or compelling me to disclosure. The promise which he exacted
+was given. He resumed:--
+
+"I have detained you in my service, partly for your own benefit, but
+chiefly for mine. I intended to inflict upon you injury and to do you
+good. Neither of these ends can I now accomplish, unless the lessons
+which my example may inculcate shall inspire you with fortitude and arm
+you with caution.
+
+"What it was that made me thus, I know not. I am not destitute of
+understanding. My thirst of knowledge, though irregular, is ardent. I
+can talk and can feel as virtue and justice prescribe; yet the tenor of
+my actions has been uniform. One tissue of iniquity and folly has been
+my life; while my thoughts have been familiar with enlightened and
+disinterested principles. Scorn and detestation I have heaped upon
+myself. Yesterday is remembered with remorse. To-morrow is contemplated
+with anguish and fear; yet every day is productive of the same crimes
+and of the same follies.
+
+"I was left, by the insolvency of my father, (a trader of Liverpool,)
+without any means of support but such as labour should afford me.
+Whatever could generate pride, and the love of independence, was my
+portion. Whatever can incite to diligence was the growth of my
+condition; yet my indolence was a cureless disease; and there were no
+arts too sordid for me to practise.
+
+"I was content to live on the bounty of a kinsman. His family was
+numerous, and his revenue small. He forbore to upbraid me, or even to
+insinuate the propriety of providing for myself; but he empowered me to
+pursue any liberal or mechanical profession which might suit my taste. I
+was insensible to every generous motive. I laboured to forget my
+dependent and disgraceful condition, because the remembrance was a
+source of anguish, without being able to inspire me with a steady
+resolution to change it.
+
+"I contracted an acquaintance with a woman who was unchaste, perverse,
+and malignant. Me, however, she found it no difficult task to deceive.
+My uncle remonstrated against the union. He took infinite pains to
+unveil my error, and to convince me that wedlock was improper for one
+destitute, as I was, of the means of support, even if the object of my
+choice were personally unexceptionable.
+
+"His representations were listened to with anger. That he thwarted my
+will in this respect, even by affectionate expostulation, cancelled all
+that debt of gratitude which I owed to him. I rewarded him for all his
+kindness by invective and disdain, and hastened to complete my
+ill-omened marriage. I had deceived the woman's father by assertions of
+possessing secret resources. To gratify my passion, I descended to
+dissimulation and falsehood. He admitted me into his family, as the
+husband of his child; but the character of my wife and the fallacy of my
+assertions were quickly discovered. He denied me accommodation under his
+roof, and I was turned forth to the world to endure the penalty of my
+rashness and my indolence.
+
+"Temptation would have moulded me into any villanous shape. My virtuous
+theories and comprehensive erudition would not have saved me from the
+basest of crimes. Luckily for me, I was, for the present, exempted from
+temptation. I had formed an acquaintance with a young American captain.
+On being partially informed of my situation, he invited me to embark
+with him for his own country. My passage was gratuitous. I arrived, in a
+short time, at Charleston, which was the place of his abode.
+
+"He introduced me to his family, every member of which was, like
+himself, imbued with affection and benevolence. I was treated like their
+son and brother. I was hospitably entertained until I should be able to
+select some path of lucrative industry. Such was my incurable depravity,
+that I made no haste to select my pursuit. An interval of inoccupation
+succeeded, which I applied to the worst purposes.
+
+"My friend had a sister, who was married, but during the absence of her
+husband resided with her family. Hence originated our acquaintance. The
+purest of human hearts and the most vigorous understanding were hers.
+She idolized her husband, who well deserved to be the object of her
+adoration. Her affection for him, and her general principles, appeared
+to be confirmed beyond the power to be shaken. I sought her intercourse
+without illicit views; I delighted in the effusions of her candour and
+the flashes of her intelligence; I conformed, by a kind of instinctive
+hypocrisy, to her views; I spoke and felt from the influence of
+immediate and momentary conviction. She imagined she had found in me a
+friend worthy to partake in all her sympathies and forward all her
+wishes. We were mutually deceived. She was the victim of self-delusion;
+but I must charge myself with practising deceit both upon myself and
+her.
+
+"I reflect with astonishment and horror on the steps which led to her
+degradation and to my calamity. In the high career of passion all
+consequences were overlooked. She was the dupe of the most audacious
+sophistry and the grossest delusion. I was the slave of sensual impulses
+and voluntary blindness. The effect may be easily conceived. Not till
+symptoms of pregnancy began to appear were our eyes opened to the ruin
+which impended over us.
+
+"Then I began to revolve the consequences, which the mist of passion had
+hitherto concealed. I was tormented by the pangs of remorse, and pursued
+by the phantom of ingratitude. To complete my despair, this unfortunate
+lady was apprized of my marriage with another woman; a circumstance
+which I had anxiously concealed from her. She fled from her father's
+house at a time when her husband and brother were hourly expected. What
+became of her I knew not. She left behind her a letter to her father, in
+which the melancholy truth was told.
+
+"Shame and remorse had no power over my life. To elude the storm of
+invective and upbraiding, to quiet the uproar of my mind, I did not
+betake myself to voluntary death. My pusillanimity still clung to this
+wretched existence. I abruptly retired from the scene, and, repairing to
+the port, embarked in the first vessel which appeared. The ship chanced
+to belong to Wilmington, in Delaware, and here I sought out an obscure
+and cheap abode.
+
+"I possessed no means of subsistence. I was unknown to my neighbours,
+and desired to remain unknown. I was unqualified for manual labour by
+all the habits of my life; but there was no choice between penury and
+diligence,--between honest labour and criminal inactivity. I mused
+incessantly on the forlornness of my condition. Hour after hour passed,
+and the horrors of want began to encompass me. I sought with eagerness
+for an avenue by which I might escape from it. The perverseness of my
+nature led me on from one guilty thought to another. I took refuge in my
+customary sophistries, and reconciled myself at length to a scheme
+of--_forgery_!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+"Having ascertained my purpose, it was requisite to search out the means
+by which I might effect it. These were not clearly or readily suggested.
+The more I contemplated my project, the more numerous and arduous its
+difficulties appeared. I had no associates in my undertaking. A due
+regard to my safety, and the unextinguished sense of honour, deterred me
+from seeking auxiliaries and co-agents. The esteem of mankind was the
+spring of all my activity, the parent of all my virtue and all my vice.
+To preserve this, it was necessary that my guilty projects should have
+neither witness nor partaker.
+
+"I quickly discovered that to execute this scheme demanded time,
+application, and money, none of which my present situation would permit
+me to devote to it. At first it appeared that an attainable degree of
+skill and circumspection would enable me to arrive, by means of
+counterfeit bills, to the pinnacle of affluence and honour. My error was
+detected by a closer scrutiny, and I finally saw nothing in this path
+but enormous perils and insurmountable impediments.
+
+"Yet what alternative was offered me? To maintain myself by the labour
+of my hands, to perform any toilsome or prescribed task, was
+incompatible with my nature. My habits debarred me from country
+occupations. My pride regarded as vile and ignominious drudgery any
+employment which the town could afford. Meanwhile, my wants were as
+urgent as ever, and my funds were exhausted.
+
+"There are few, perhaps, whose external situation resembled mine, who
+would have found in it any thing but incitements to industry and
+invention. A thousand methods of subsistence, honest but laborious,
+were at my command, but to these I entertained an irreconcilable
+aversion. Ease and the respect attendant upon opulence I was willing to
+purchase at the price of ever-wakeful suspicion and eternal remorse;
+but, even at this price, the purchase was impossible.
+
+"The desperateness of my condition became hourly more apparent. The
+further I extended my view, the darker grew the clouds which hung over
+futurity. Anguish and infamy appeared to be the inseparable conditions
+of my existence. There was one mode of evading the evils that impended.
+To free myself from self-upbraiding and to shun the persecutions of my
+fortune was possible only by shaking off life itself.
+
+"One evening, as I traversed the bank of the creek, these dismal
+meditations were uncommonly intense. They at length terminated in a
+resolution to throw myself into the stream. The first impulse was to
+rush instantly to my death; but the remembrance of papers, lying at my
+lodgings, which might unfold more than I desired to the curiosity of
+survivors, induced me to postpone this catastrophe till the next
+morning.
+
+"My purpose being formed, I found my heart lightened of its usual
+weight. By you it will be thought strange, but it is nevertheless true,
+that I derived from this new prospect not only tranquillity but
+cheerfulness. I hastened home. As soon as I entered, my landlord
+informed me that a person had been searching for me in my absence. This
+was an unexampled incident, and foreboded me no good. I was strongly
+persuaded that my visitant had been led hither not by friendly but
+hostile purposes. This persuasion was confirmed by the description of
+the stranger's guise and demeanour given by my landlord. My fears
+instantly recognised the image of Watson, the man by whom I had been so
+eminently benefited, and whose kindness I had compensated by the ruin of
+his sister and the confusion of his family.
+
+"An interview with this man was less to be endured than to look upon the
+face of an avenging deity. I was determined to avoid this interview,
+and, for this end, to execute my fatal purpose within the hour. My
+papers were collected with a tremulous hand, and consigned to the
+flames. I then bade my landlord inform all visitants that I should not
+return till the next day, and once more hastened towards the river.
+
+"My way led past the inn where one of the stages from Baltimore was
+accustomed to stop. I was not unaware that Watson had possibly been
+brought in the coach which had recently arrived, and which now stood
+before the door of the inn. The danger of my being descried or
+encountered by him as I passed did not fail to occur. This was to be
+eluded by deviating from the main street.
+
+"Scarcely had I turned a corner for this purpose when I was accosted by
+a young man whom I knew to be an inhabitant of the town, but with whom I
+had hitherto had no intercourse but what consisted in a transient
+salutation. He apologized for the liberty of addressing me, and, at the
+same time, inquired if I understood the French language.
+
+"Being answered in the affirmative, he proceeded to tell me that in the
+stage, just arrived, had come a passenger, a youth who appeared to be
+French, who was wholly unacquainted with our language, and who had been
+seized with a violent disease.
+
+"My informant had felt compassion for the forlorn condition of the
+stranger, and had just been seeking me at my lodgings, in hope that my
+knowledge of French would enable me to converse with the sick man, and
+obtain from him a knowledge of his situation and views.
+
+"The apprehensions I had precipitately formed were thus removed, and I
+readily consented to perform this service. The youth was, indeed, in a
+deplorable condition. Besides the pains of his disease, he was
+overpowered by dejection. The innkeeper was extremely anxious for the
+removal of his guest. He was by no means willing to sustain the trouble
+and expense of a sick or a dying man, for which it was scarcely probable
+that he should ever be reimbursed. The traveller had no baggage, and his
+dress betokened the pressure of many wants.
+
+"My compassion for this stranger was powerfully awakened. I was in
+possession of a suitable apartment, for which I had no power to pay the
+rent that was accruing; but my inability in this respect was unknown,
+and I might enjoy my lodgings unmolested for some weeks. The fate of
+this youth would be speedily decided, and I should be left at liberty to
+execute my first intentions before my embarrassments should be visibly
+increased.
+
+"After a moment's pause, I conducted the stranger to my home, placed him
+in my own bed, and became his nurse. His malady was such as is known in
+the tropical islands by the name of the yellow or malignant fever, and
+the physician who was called speedily pronounced his case desperate.
+
+"It was my duty to warn him of the death that was hastening, and to
+promise the fulfilment of any of his wishes not inconsistent with my
+present situation. He received my intelligence with fortitude, and
+appeared anxious to communicate some information respecting his own
+state. His pangs and his weakness scarcely allowed him to be
+intelligible. From his feeble efforts and broken narrative I collected
+thus much concerning his family and fortune.
+
+"His father's name was Vincentio Lodi. From a merchant at Leghorn, he
+had changed himself into a planter in the island of Guadaloupe. His son
+had been sent, at an early age, for the benefits of education, to
+Europe. The young Vincentio was, at length, informed by his father,
+that, being weary of his present mode of existence, he had determined to
+sell his property and transport himself to the United States. The son
+was directed to hasten home, that he might embark, with his father, on
+this voyage.
+
+"The summons was cheerfully obeyed. The youth, on his arrival at the
+island, found preparation making for the funeral of his father. It
+appeared that the elder Lodi had flattered one of his slaves with the
+prospect of his freedom, but had, nevertheless, included this slave in
+the sale that he had made of his estate. Actuated by revenge, the slave
+assassinated Lodi in the open street, and resigned himself, without a
+struggle, to the punishment which the law had provided for such a deed.
+
+"The property had been recently transferred, and the price was now
+presented to young Vincentio by the purchaser. He was by no means
+inclined to adopt his father's project, and was impatient to return with
+his inheritance to France. Before this could be done, the conduct of his
+father had rendered a voyage to the Continent indispensable.
+
+"Lodi had a daughter, whom, a few weeks previous to his death, he had
+intrusted to an American captain for whom he had contracted a
+friendship. The vessel was bound to Philadelphia; but the conduct she
+was to pursue, and the abode she was to select, on her arrival, were
+known only to the father, whose untimely death involved the son in
+considerable uncertainty with regard to his sister's fate. His anxiety
+on this account induced him to seize the first conveyance that offered.
+In a short time he landed at Baltimore.
+
+"As soon as he recovered from the fatigues of his voyage, he prepared to
+go to Philadelphia. Thither his baggage was immediately sent under the
+protection of a passenger and countryman. His money consisted in
+Portuguese gold, which, in pursuance of advice, he had changed into
+bank-notes. He besought me, in pathetic terms, to search out his sister,
+whose youth and poverty, and ignorance of the language and manners of
+the country, might expose her to innumerable hardships. At the same
+time, he put a pocket-book and small volume into my hand, indicating, by
+his countenance and gestures, his desire that I would deliver them to
+his sister.
+
+"His obsequies being decently performed, I had leisure to reflect upon
+the change in my condition which this incident had produced. In the
+pocket-book were found bills to the amount of twenty thousand dollars.
+The volume proved to be a manuscript, written by the elder Lodi in
+Italian, and contained memoirs of the ducal house of Visconti, from whom
+the writer believed himself to have lineally descended.
+
+"Thus had I arrived, by an avenue so much beyond my foresight, at the
+possession of wealth. The evil which impelled me to the brink of
+suicide, and which was the source, though not of all, yet of the larger
+portion, of my anguish, was now removed. What claims to honour or to
+ease were consequent on riches were, by an extraordinary fortune, now
+conferred upon me.
+
+"Such, for a time, were my new-born but transitory raptures. I forgot
+that this money was not mine. That it had been received, under every
+sanction of fidelity, for another's use. To retain it was equivalent to
+robbery. The sister of the deceased was the rightful claimant; it was my
+duty to search her out, and perform my tacit but sacred obligations, by
+putting the whole into her possession.
+
+"This conclusion was too adverse to my wishes not to be strenuously
+combated. I asked what it was that gave man the power of ascertaining
+the successor to his property. During his life, he might transfer the
+actual possession; but, if vacant at his death, he into whose hands
+accident should cast it was the genuine proprietor. It is true, that the
+law had sometimes otherwise decreed, but in law there was no validity
+further than it was able, by investigation and punishment, to enforce
+its decrees: but would the law extort this money from me?
+
+"It was rather by gesture than by words that the will of Lodi was
+imparted. It was the topic of remote inferences and vague conjecture
+rather than of explicit and unerring declarations. Besides, if the lady
+were found, would not prudence dictate the reservation of her fortune to
+be administered by me, for her benefit? Of this her age and education
+had disqualified herself. It was sufficient for the maintenance of both.
+She would regard me as her benefactor and protector. By supplying all
+her wants and watching over her safety without apprizing her of the
+means by which I shall be enabled to do this, I shall lay irresistible
+claims to her love and her gratitude.
+
+"Such were the sophistries by which reason was seduced and my integrity
+annihilated. I hastened away from my present abode. I easily traced the
+baggage of the deceased to an inn, and gained possession of it. It
+contained nothing but clothes and books. I then instituted the most
+diligent search after the young lady. For a time, my exertions were
+fruitless.
+
+"Meanwhile, the possessor of this house thought proper to embark with
+his family for Europe. The sum which he demanded for his furniture,
+though enormous, was precipitately paid by me. His servants were
+continued in their former stations, and in the day at which he
+relinquished the mansion, I entered on possession.
+
+"There was no difficulty in persuading the world that Welbeck was a
+personage of opulence and rank. My birth and previous adventures it was
+proper to conceal. The facility with which mankind are misled in their
+estimate of characters, their proneness to multiply inferences and
+conjectures, will not be readily conceived by one destitute of my
+experience. My sudden appearance on the stage, my stately reserve, my
+splendid habitation, and my circumspect deportment, were sufficient to
+entitle me to homage. The artifices that were used to unveil the truth,
+and the guesses that were current respecting me, were adapted to gratify
+my ruling passion.
+
+"I did not remit my diligence to discover the retreat of Mademoiselle
+Lodi. I found her, at length, in the family of a kinsman of the captain
+under whose care she had come to America. Her situation was irksome and
+perilous. She had already experienced the evils of being protectorless
+and indigent, and my seasonable interference snatched her from impending
+and less supportable ills.
+
+"I could safely unfold all that I knew of her brother's history, except
+the legacy which he had left. I ascribed the diligence with which I had
+sought her to his death-bed injunctions, and prevailed upon her to
+accept from me the treatment which she would have received from her
+brother if he had continued to live, and if his power to benefit had
+been equal to my own.
+
+"Though less can be said in praise of the understanding than of the
+sensibilities of this woman, she is one whom no one could refrain from
+loving, though placed in situations far less favourable to the
+generation of that sentiment than mine. In habits of domestic and
+incessant intercourse, in the perpetual contemplation of features
+animated by boundless gratitude and ineffable sympathies, it could not
+be expected that either she or I should escape enchantment.
+
+"The poison was too sweet not to be swallowed with avidity by me. Too
+late I remembered that I was already enslaved by inextricable
+obligations. It was easy to have hidden this impediment from the eyes of
+my companion, but here my integrity refused to yield. I can, indeed, lay
+claim to little merit on account of this forbearance. If there had been
+no alternative between deceit and the frustration of my hopes, I should
+doubtless have dissembled the truth with as little scruple on this as on
+a different occasion; but I could not be blind to the weakness of her
+with whom I had to contend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+"Meanwhile large deductions had been made from my stock of money, and
+the remnant would be speedily consumed by my present mode of life. My
+expenses far exceeded my previous expectations. In no long time I should
+be reduced to my ancient poverty, which the luxurious existence that I
+now enjoyed, and the regard due to my beloved and helpless companion,
+would render more irksome than ever. Some scheme to rescue me from this
+fate was indispensable; but my aversion to labour, to any pursuit the
+end of which was merely gain, and which would require application and
+attention, continued undiminished.
+
+"I was plunged anew into dejection and perplexity. From this I was
+somewhat relieved by a plan suggested by Mr. Thetford. I thought I had
+experience of his knowledge and integrity, and the scheme that he
+proposed seemed liable to no possibility of miscarriage. A ship was to
+be purchased, supplied with a suitable cargo, and despatched to a port
+in the West Indies. Loss from storms and enemies was to be precluded by
+insurance. Every hazard was to be enumerated, and the ship and cargo
+valued at the highest rate. Should the voyage be safely performed, the
+profits would be double the original expense. Should the ship be taken
+or wrecked, the insurers would have bound themselves to make ample,
+speedy, and certain indemnification. Thetford's brother, a wary and
+experienced trader, was to be the supercargo.
+
+"All my money was laid out upon this scheme. Scarcely enough was
+reserved to supply domestic and personal wants. Large debts were
+likewise incurred. Our caution had, as we conceived, annihilated every
+chance of failure. Too much could not be expended on a project so
+infallible; and the vessel, amply fitted and freighted, departed on her
+voyage.
+
+"An interval, not devoid of suspense and anxiety, succeeded. My
+mercantile inexperience made me distrust the clearness of my own
+discernment, and I could not but remember that my utter and
+irretrievable destruction was connected with the failure of my scheme.
+Time added to my distrust and apprehensions. The time at which tidings
+of the ship were to be expected elapsed without affording any
+information of her destiny. My anxieties, however, were to be carefully
+hidden from the world. I had taught mankind to believe that this project
+had been adopted more for amusement than gain; and the debts which I had
+contracted seemed to arise from willingness to adhere to established
+maxims, more than from the pressure of necessity.
+
+"Month succeeded month, and intelligence was still withheld. The notes
+which I had given for one-third of the cargo, and for the premium of
+insurance, would shortly become due. For the payment of the former, and
+the cancelling of the latter, I had relied upon the expeditious return
+or the demonstrated loss of the vessel. Neither of these events had
+taken place.
+
+"My cares were augmented from another quarter. My companion's situation
+now appeared to be such as, if our intercourse had been sanctified by
+wedlock, would have been regarded with delight. As it was, no symptoms
+were equally to be deplored. Consequences, as long as they were involved
+in uncertainty, were extenuated or overlooked; but now, when they became
+apparent and inevitable, were fertile of distress and upbraiding.
+
+"Indefinable fears, and a desire to monopolize all the meditations and
+affections of this being, had induced me to perpetuate her ignorance of
+any but her native language, and debar her from all intercourse with the
+world. My friends were of course inquisitive respecting her character,
+adventures, and particularly her relation to me. The consciousness how
+much the truth redounded to my dishonour made me solicitous to lead
+conjecture astray. For this purpose I did not discountenance the
+conclusion that was adopted by some,--that she was my daughter. I
+reflected that all dangerous surmises would be effectually precluded by
+this belief.
+
+"These precautions afforded me some consolation in my present
+difficulties. It was requisite to conceal the lady's condition from the
+world. If this should be ineffectual, it would not be difficult to
+divert suspicion from my person. The secrecy that I had practised would
+be justified, in the apprehension of those to whom the personal
+condition of Clemenza should be disclosed, by the feelings of a father.
+
+"Meanwhile, it was an obvious expedient to remove the unhappy lady to a
+distance from impertinent observers. A rural retreat, lonely and
+sequestered, was easily procured, and hither she consented to repair.
+This arrangement being concerted, I had leisure to reflect upon the
+evils which every hour brought nearer, and which threatened to
+exterminate me.
+
+"My inquietudes forbade me to sleep, and I was accustomed to rise before
+day and seek some respite in the fields. Returning from one of these
+unseasonable rambles, I chanced to meet you. Your resemblance to the
+deceased Lodi, in person and visage, is remarkable. When you first met
+my eye, this similitude startled me. Your subsequent appeal to my
+compassion was clothed in such terms as formed a powerful contrast with
+your dress, and prepossessed me greatly in favour of your education and
+capacity.
+
+"In my present hopeless condition, every incident, however trivial, was
+attentively considered, with a view to extract from it some means of
+escaping from my difficulties. My love for the Italian girl, in spite of
+all my efforts to keep it alive, had begun to languish. Marriage was
+impossible; and had now, in some degree, ceased to be desirable. We are
+apt to judge of others by ourselves. The passion I now found myself
+disposed to ascribe chiefly to fortuitous circumstances; to the impulse
+of gratitude, and the exclusion of competitors; and believed that your
+resemblance to her brother, your age and personal accomplishments,
+might, after a certain time, and in consequence of suitable
+contrivances on my part, give a new direction to her feelings. To gain
+your concurrence, I relied upon your simplicity, your gratitude, and
+your susceptibility to the charms of this bewitching creature.
+
+"I contemplated, likewise, another end. Mrs. Wentworth is rich. A youth
+who was once her favourite, and designed to inherit her fortunes, has
+disappeared, for some years, from the scene. His death is most probable,
+but of that there is no satisfactory information. The life of this
+person, whose name is Clavering, is an obstacle to some designs which
+had occurred to me in relation to this woman. My purposes were crude and
+scarcely formed. I need not swell the catalogue of my errors by
+expatiating upon them. Suffice it to say that the peculiar circumstances
+of your introduction to me led me to reflections on the use that might
+be made of your agency, in procuring this lady's acquiescence in my
+schemes. You were to be ultimately persuaded to confirm her in the
+belief that her nephew was dead. To this consummation it was
+indispensable to lead you by slow degrees and circuitous paths.
+Meanwhile, a profound silence, with regard to your genuine history, was
+to be observed; and to this forbearance your consent was obtained with
+more readiness than I expected.
+
+"There was an additional motive for the treatment you received from me.
+My personal projects and cares had hitherto prevented me from reading
+Lodi's manuscript; a slight inspection, however, was sufficient to prove
+that the work was profound and eloquent. My ambition has panted, with
+equal avidity, after the reputation of literature and opulence. To claim
+the authorship of this work was too harmless and specious a stratagem
+not to be readily suggested. I meant to translate it into English, and
+to enlarge it by enterprising incidents of my own invention. My scruples
+to assume the merit of the original composer might thus be removed. For
+this end, your assistance as an amanuensis would be necessary.
+
+"You will perceive that all these projects depended on the seasonable
+arrival of intelligence from ----. The delay of another week would seal
+my destruction. The silence might arise from the foundering of the ship
+and the destruction of all on board. In this case, the insurance was not
+forfeited, but payment could not be obtained within a year. Meanwhile,
+the premium and other debts must be immediately discharged, and this was
+beyond my power. Meanwhile, I was to live in a manner that would not
+belie my pretensions; but my coffers were empty.
+
+"I cannot adequately paint the anxieties with which I have been haunted.
+Each hour has added to the burden of my existence, till, in consequence
+of the events of this day, it has become altogether insupportable. Some
+hours ago, I was summoned by Thetford to his house. The messenger
+informed me that tidings had been received of my ship. In answer to my
+eager interrogations, he could give no other information than that she
+had been captured by the British. He was unable to relate particulars.
+
+"News of her safe return would, indeed, have been far more acceptable;
+but even this information was a source of infinite congratulation. It
+precluded the demand of my insurers. The payment of other debts might be
+postponed for a month, and my situation be the same as before the
+adoption of this successless scheme. Hope and joy were reinstated in my
+bosom, and I hasted to Thetford's counting-house.
+
+"He received me with an air of gloomy dissatisfaction. I accounted for
+his sadness by supposing him averse to communicate information which was
+less favourable than our wishes had dictated. He confirmed, with visible
+reluctance, the news of her capture. He had just received letters from
+his brother, acquainting him with all particulars, and containing the
+official documents of this transaction.
+
+"This had no tendency to damp my satisfaction, and I proceeded to peruse
+with eagerness the papers which he put into my hand. I had not proceeded
+far, when my joyous hopes vanished. Two French mulattoes had, after much
+solicitation, and the most solemn promises to carry with them no
+articles which the laws of war decree to be contraband, obtained a
+passage in the vessel. She was speedily encountered by a privateer, by
+whom every receptacle was ransacked. In a chest, belonging to the
+Frenchmen, and which they had affirmed to contain nothing but their
+clothes, were found two sabres, and other accoutrements of an officer of
+cavalry. Under this pretence, the vessel was captured and condemned, and
+this was a cause of forfeiture which had not been provided against in
+the contract of insurance.
+
+"By this untoward event my hopes were irreparably blasted. The utmost
+efforts were demanded to conceal my thoughts from my companion. The
+anguish that preyed upon my heart was endeavoured to be masked by looks
+of indifference. I pretended to have been previously informed by the
+messenger not only of the capture, but of the cause that led to it, and
+forbore to expatiate upon my loss, or to execrate the authors of my
+disappointment. My mind, however, was the theatre of discord and agony,
+and I waited with impatience for an opportunity to leave him.
+
+"For want of other topics, I asked by whom this information had been
+brought. He answered, that the bearer was Captain Amos Watson, whose
+vessel had been forfeited, at the same time, under a different pretence.
+He added that, my name being mentioned accidentally to Watson, the
+latter had betrayed marks of great surprise, and been very earnest in
+his inquiries respecting my situation. Having obtained what knowledge
+Thetford was able to communicate, the captain had departed, avowing a
+former acquaintance with me, and declaring his intention of paying me a
+visit.
+
+"These words operated on my frame like lightning. All within me was
+tumult and terror, and I rushed precipitately out of the house. I went
+forward with unequal steps, and at random. Some instinct led me into the
+fields, and I was not apprized of the direction of my steps, till,
+looking up, I found myself upon the shore of Schuylkill.
+
+"Thus was I, a second time, overborne by hopeless and incurable evils.
+An interval of motley feelings, of specious artifice and contemptible
+imposture, had elapsed since my meeting with the stranger at Wilmington.
+Then my forlorn state had led me to the brink of suicide. A brief and
+feverish respite had been afforded me, but now was I transported to the
+verge of the same abyss.
+
+"Amos Watson was the brother of the angel whom I had degraded and
+destroyed. What but fiery indignation and unappeasable vengeance could
+lead him into my presence? With what heart could I listen to his
+invectives? How could I endure to look upon the face of one whom I had
+loaded with such atrocious and intolerable injuries?
+
+"I was acquainted with his loftiness of mind; his detestation of
+injustice, and the whirlwind passions that ingratitude and villany like
+mine were qualified to awaken in his bosom. I dreaded not his violence.
+The death that he might be prompted to inflict was no object of
+aversion. It was poverty and disgrace, the detection of my crimes, the
+looks and voice of malediction and upbraiding, from which my cowardice
+shrunk.
+
+"Why should I live? I must vanish from that stage which I had lately
+trodden. My flight must be instant and precipitate. To be a fugitive
+from exasperated creditors, and from the industrious revenge of Watson,
+was an easy undertaking; but whither could I fly, where I should not be
+pursued by the phantoms of remorse, by the dread of hourly detection, by
+the necessities of hunger and thirst? In what scene should I be exempt
+from servitude and drudgery? Was my existence embellished with
+enjoyments that would justify my holding it, encumbered with hardships
+and immersed in obscurity?
+
+"There was no room for hesitation. To rush into the stream before me,
+and put an end at once to my life and the miseries inseparably linked
+with it, was the only proceeding which fate had left to my choice. My
+muscles were already exerted for this end, when the helpless condition
+of Clemenza was remembered. What provision could I make against the
+evils that threatened her? Should I leave her utterly forlorn and
+friendless? Mrs. Wentworth's temper was forgiving and compassionate.
+Adversity had taught her to participate and her wealth enabled her to
+relieve distress. Who was there by whom such powerful claims to succour
+and protection could be urged as by this desolate girl? Might I not
+state her situation in a letter to this lady, and urge irresistible
+pleas for the extension of her kindness to this object?
+
+"These thoughts made me suspend my steps. I determined to seek my
+habitation once more, and, having written and deposited this letter, to
+return to the execution of my fatal purpose. I had scarcely reached my
+own door, when some one approached along the pavement. The form, at
+first, was undistinguishable, but, by coming, at length, within the
+illumination of a lamp, it was perfectly recognised.
+
+"To avoid this detested interview was now impossible. Watson approached
+and accosted me. In this conflict of tumultuous feelings I was still
+able to maintain an air of intrepidity. His demeanour was that of a man
+who struggles with his rage. His accents were hurried, and scarcely
+articulate. 'I have ten words to say to you,' said he; 'lead into the
+house, and to some private room. My business with you will be despatched
+in a breath.'
+
+"I made him no answer, but led the way into my house, and to my study.
+On entering this room, I put the light upon the table, and, turning to
+my visitant, prepared silently to hear what he had to unfold. He struck
+his clenched hand against the table with violence. His motion was of
+that tempestuous kind as to overwhelm the power of utterance, and found
+it easier to vent itself in gesticulations than in words. At length he
+exclaimed,--
+
+"'It is well. Now has the hour, so long and so impatiently demanded by
+my vengeance, arrived. Welbeck! Would that my first words could strike
+thee dead! They will so, if thou hast any title to the name of man.
+
+"'My sister is dead; dead of anguish and a broken heart. Remote from her
+friends; in a hovel; the abode of indigence and misery.
+
+"'Her husband is no more. He returned after a long absence, a tedious
+navigation, and vicissitudes of hardships. He flew to the bosom of his
+love; of his wife. She was gone; lost to him, and to virtue. In a fit of
+desperation, he retired to his chamber and despatched himself. This is
+the instrument with which the deed was performed.'
+
+"Saying this, Watson took a pistol from his pocket, and held it to my
+head. I lifted not my hand to turn aside the weapon. I did not shudder
+at the spectacle, or shrink from his approaching hand. With fingers
+clasped together, and eyes fixed upon the floor, I waited till his fury
+was exhausted. He continued:--
+
+"'All passed in a few hours. The elopement of his daughter,--the death
+of his son. O my father! Most loved and most venerable of men! To see
+thee changed into a maniac! Haggard and wild! Deterred from outrage on
+thyself and those around thee by fetters and stripes! What was it that
+saved me from a like fate? To view this hideous ruin, and to think by
+whom it was occasioned! Yet not to become frantic like thee, my father;
+or not destroy myself like thee, my brother! My friend!--
+
+"'No. For this hour was I reserved; to avenge your wrongs and mine in
+the blood of this ungrateful villain.'
+
+"'There,' continued he, producing a second pistol, and tendering it to
+me,--'there is thy defence. Take we opposite sides of this table, and
+fire at the same instant.'
+
+"During this address I was motionless. He tendered the pistol, but I
+unclasped not my hands to receive it.
+
+"'Why do you hesitate?' resumed he. 'Let the chance between us be equal,
+or fire you first.'
+
+"'No,' said I, 'I am ready to die by your hand. I wish it. It will
+preclude the necessity of performing the office for myself. I have
+injured you, and merit all that your vengeance can inflict. I know your
+nature too well to believe that my death will be perfect expiation. When
+the gust of indignation is past, the remembrance of your deed will only
+add to your sum of misery; yet I do not love you well enough to wish
+that you would forbear. I desire to die, and to die by another's hand
+rather than my own.'
+
+"'Coward!' exclaimed Watson, with augmented vehemence, 'you know me too
+well to believe me capable of assassination. Vile subterfuge!
+Contemptible plea! Take the pistol and defend yourself. You want not the
+power or the will; but, knowing that I spurn at murder, you think your
+safety will be found in passiveness. Your refusal will avail you little.
+Your fame, if not your life, is at my mercy. If you falter now, I will
+allow you to live, but only till I have stabbed your reputation.'
+
+"I now fixed my eyes steadfastly upon him, and spoke:--'How much a
+stranger are you to the feelings of Welbeck! How poor a judge of his
+cowardice! I take your pistol, and consent to your conditions.'
+
+"We took opposite sides of the table. 'Are you ready?' he cried; 'fire!'
+
+"Both triggers were drawn at the same instant. Both pistols were
+discharged. Mine was negligently raised. Such is the untoward chance
+that presides over human affairs; such is the malignant destiny by which
+my steps have ever been pursued. The bullet whistled harmlessly by
+me,--levelled by an eye that never before failed, and with so small an
+interval between us. I escaped, but my blind and random shot took place
+in his heart.
+
+"There is the fruit of this disastrous meeting. The catalogue of death
+is thus completed. Thou sleepest, Watson! Thy sister is at rest, and so
+art thou. Thy vows of vengeance are at an end. It was not reserved for
+thee to be thy own and thy sister's avenger. Welbeck's measure of
+transgressions is now full, and his own hand must execute the justice
+that is due to him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+Such was Welbeck's tale, listened to by me with an eagerness in which
+every faculty was absorbed. How adverse to my dreams were the incidents
+that had just been related! The curtain was lifted, and a scene of guilt
+and ignominy disclosed where my rash and inexperienced youth had
+suspected nothing but loftiness and magnanimity.
+
+For a while the wondrousness of this tale kept me from contemplating the
+consequences that awaited us. My unfledged fancy had not hitherto soared
+to this pitch. All was astounding by its novelty, or terrific by its
+horror. The very scene of these offences partook, to my rustic
+apprehension, of fairy splendour and magical abruptness. My
+understanding was bemazed, and my senses were taught to distrust their
+own testimony.
+
+From this musing state I was recalled by my companion, who said to me,
+in solemn accents, "Mervyn! I have but two requests to make. Assist me
+to bury these remains, and then accompany me across the river. I have no
+power to compel your silence on the acts that you have witnessed. I have
+meditated to benefit as well as to injure you; but I do not desire that
+your demeanour should conform to any other standard than justice. You
+have promised, and to that promise I trust.
+
+"If you choose to fly from this scene, to withdraw yourself from what
+you may conceive to be a theatre of guilt or peril, the avenues are
+open; retire unmolested and in silence. If you have a manlike spirit, if
+you are grateful for the benefits bestowed upon you, if your discernment
+enables you to see that compliance with my request will entangle you in
+no guilt and betray you into no danger, stay, and aid me in hiding these
+remains from human scrutiny.
+
+"Watson is beyond the reach of further injury. I never intended him
+harm, though I have torn from him his sister and friend, and have
+brought his life to an untimely close. To provide him a grave is a duty
+that I owe to the dead and to the living. I shall quickly place myself
+beyond the reach of inquisitors and judges, but would willingly rescue
+from molestation or suspicion those whom I shall leave behind."
+
+What would have been the fruit of deliberation, if I had had the time or
+power to deliberate, I know not. My thoughts flowed with tumult and
+rapidity. To shut this spectacle from my view was the first impulse; but
+to desert this man, in a time of so much need, appeared a thankless and
+dastardly deportment. To remain where I was, to conform implicitly to
+his direction, required no effort. Some fear was connected with his
+presence, and with that of the dead; but, in the tremulous confusion of
+my present thoughts, solitude would conjure up a thousand phantoms.
+
+I made no preparation to depart. I did not verbally assent to his
+proposal. He interpreted my silence into acquiescence. He wrapped the
+body in the carpet, and then, lifting one end, cast at me a look which
+indicated his expectations that I would aid him in lifting this ghastly
+burden. During this process, the silence was unbroken.
+
+I knew not whither he intended to convey the corpse. He had talked of
+burial, but no receptacle had been provided. How far safety might depend
+upon his conduct in this particular, I was unable to estimate. I was in
+too heartless a mood to utter my doubts. I followed his example in
+raising the corpse from the floor.
+
+He led the way into the passage and down-stairs. Having reached the
+first floor, he unbolted a door which led into the cellar. The stairs
+and passage were illuminated by lamps that hung from the ceiling and
+were accustomed to burn during the night. Now, however, we were entering
+darksome and murky recesses.
+
+"Return," said he, in a tone of command, "and fetch the light. I will
+wait for you."
+
+I obeyed. As I returned with the light, a suspicion stole into my mind,
+that Welbeck had taken this opportunity to fly; and that, on regaining
+the foot of the stairs, I should find the spot deserted by all but the
+dead. My blood was chilled by this image. The momentary resolution it
+inspired was to follow the example of the fugitive, and leave the
+persons whom the ensuing day might convene on this spot, to form their
+own conjectures as to the cause of this catastrophe.
+
+Meanwhile, I cast anxious eyes forward. Welbeck was discovered in the
+same place and posture in which he had been left. Lifting the corpse and
+its shroud in his arms, he directed me to follow him. The vaults beneath
+were lofty and spacious. He passed from one to the other till we reached
+a small and remote cell. Here he cast his burden on the ground. In the
+fall, the face of Watson chanced to be disengaged from its covering. Its
+closed eyes and sunken muscles were rendered in a tenfold degree ghastly
+and rueful by the feeble light which the candle shed upon it.
+
+This object did not escape the attention of Welbeck. He leaned against
+the wall, and, folding his arms, resigned himself to reverie. He gazed
+upon the countenance of Watson, but his looks denoted his attention to
+be elsewhere employed.
+
+As to me, my state will not be easily described. My eye roved fearfully
+from one object to another. By turns it was fixed upon the murdered
+person and the murderer. The narrow cell in which we stood, its
+rudely-fashioned walls and arches, destitute of communication with the
+external air, and its palpable dark scarcely penetrated by the rays of a
+solitary candle, added to the silence which was deep and universal,
+produced an impression on my fancy which no time will obliterate.
+
+Perhaps my imagination was distempered by terror. The incident which I
+am going to relate may appear to have existed only in my fancy. Be that
+as it may, I experienced all the effects which the fullest belief is
+adapted to produce. Glancing vaguely at the countenance of Watson, my
+attention was arrested by a convulsive motion in the eyelids. This
+motion increased, till at length the eyes opened, and a glance, languid
+but wild, was thrown around. Instantly they closed, and the tremulous
+appearance vanished.
+
+I started from my place and was on the point of uttering some
+involuntary exclamation. At the same moment, Welbeck seemed to recover
+from his reverie.
+
+"How is this?" said he. "Why do we linger here? Every moment is
+precious. We cannot dig for him a grave with our hands. Wait here, while
+I go in search of a spade."
+
+Saying this, he snatched the candle from my hand, and hasted away. My
+eye followed the light as its gleams shifted their place upon the walls
+and ceilings, and, gradually vanishing, gave place to unrespited gloom.
+This proceeding was so unexpected and abrupt, that I had no time to
+remonstrate against it. Before I retrieved the power of reflection, the
+light had disappeared and the footsteps were no longer to be heard.
+
+I was not, on ordinary occasions, destitute of equanimity; but perhaps
+the imagination of man is naturally abhorrent of death, until tutored
+into indifference by habit. Every circumstance combined to fill me with
+shuddering and panic. For a while, I was enabled to endure my situation
+by the exertions of my reason. That the lifeless remains of a human
+being are powerless to injure or benefit, I was thoroughly persuaded. I
+summoned this belief to my aid, and was able, if not to subdue, yet to
+curb, my fears. I listened to catch the sound of the returning footsteps
+of Welbeck, and hoped that every new moment would terminate my solitude.
+
+No signal of his coming was afforded. At length it occurred to me that
+Welbeck had gone with no intention to return; that his malice had
+seduced me hither to encounter the consequences of his deed. He had fled
+and barred every door behind him. This suspicion may well be supposed to
+overpower my courage, and to call forth desperate efforts for my
+deliverance.
+
+I extended my hands and went forward. I had been too little attentive to
+the situation and direction of these vaults and passages, to go forward
+with undeviating accuracy. My fears likewise tended to confuse my
+perceptions and bewilder my steps. Notwithstanding the danger of
+encountering obstructions, I rushed towards the entrance with
+precipitation.
+
+My temerity was quickly punished. In a moment, I was repelled by a
+jutting angle of the wall, with such force that I staggered backward and
+fell. The blow was stunning, and, when I recovered my senses, I
+perceived that a torrent of blood was gushing from my nostrils. My
+clothes were moistened with this unwelcome effusion, and I could not but
+reflect on the hazard which I should incur by being detected in this
+recess, covered by these accusing stains.
+
+This reflection once more set me on my feet and incited my exertions. I
+now proceeded with greater wariness and caution. I had lost all distinct
+notions of my way. My motions were at random. All my labour was to shun
+obstructions and to advance whenever the vacuity would permit. By this
+means, the entrance was at length found, and, after various efforts, I
+arrived, beyond my hopes, at the foot of the staircase.
+
+I ascended, but quickly encountered an insuperable impediment. The door
+at the stair-head was closed and barred. My utmost strength was exerted
+in vain, to break the lock or the hinges. Thus were my direst
+apprehensions fulfilled. Welbeck had left me to sustain the charge of
+murder; to obviate suspicions the most atrocious and plausible that the
+course of human events is capable of producing.
+
+Here I must remain till the morrow; till some one can be made to
+overhear my calls and come to my deliverance. What effects will my
+appearance produce on the spectator? Terrified by phantoms and stained
+with blood, shall I not exhibit the tokens of a maniac as well as an
+assassin?
+
+The corpse of Watson will quickly be discovered. If, previous to this
+disclosure, I should change my blood-stained garments and withdraw into
+the country, shall I not be pursued by the most vehement suspicions,
+and, perhaps, hunted to my obscurest retreat by the ministers of
+justice? I am innocent; but my tale, however circumstantial or true,
+will scarcely suffice for my vindication. My flight will be construed
+into a proof of incontestable guilt.
+
+While harassed by these thoughts, my attention was attracted by a faint
+gleam cast upon the bottom of the staircase. It grew stronger, hovered
+for a moment in my sight, and then disappeared. That it proceeded from a
+lamp or candle, borne by some one along the passages, was no untenable
+opinion, but was far less probable than that the effulgence was
+meteorous. I confided in the latter supposition, and fortified myself
+anew against the dread of preternatural dangers. My thoughts reverted to
+the contemplation of the hazards and suspicions which flowed from my
+continuance in this spot.
+
+In the midst of my perturbed musing, my attention was again recalled by
+an illumination like the former. Instead of hovering and vanishing, it
+was permanent. No ray could be more feeble; but the tangible obscurity
+to which it succeeded rendered it conspicuous as an electrical flash.
+For a while I eyed it without moving from my place, and in momentary
+expectation of its disappearance.
+
+Remarking its stability, the propriety of scrutinizing it more nearly,
+and of ascertaining the source whence it flowed, was at length
+suggested. Hope, as well as curiosity, was the parent of my conduct.
+Though utterly at a loss to assign the cause of this appearance, I was
+willing to believe some connection between that cause and the means of
+my deliverance.
+
+I had scarcely formed the resolution of descending the stair, when my
+hope was extinguished by the recollection that the cellar had narrow and
+grated windows, through which light from the street might possibly have
+found access. A second recollection supplanted this belief, for in my
+way to this staircase my attention would have been solicited, and my
+steps, in some degree, been guided, by light coming through these
+avenues.
+
+Having returned to the bottom of the stair, I perceived every part of
+the long-drawn passage illuminated. I threw a glance forward to the
+quarter whence the rays seemed to proceed, and beheld, at a considerable
+distance, Welbeck in the cell which I had left, turning up the earth
+with a spade.
+
+After a pause of astonishment, the nature of the error which I had
+committed rushed upon my apprehension. I now perceived that the darkness
+had misled me to a different staircase from that which I had originally
+descended. It was apparent that Welbeck intended me no evil, but had
+really gone in search of the instrument which he had mentioned.
+
+This discovery overwhelmed me with contrition and shame, though it freed
+me from the terrors of imprisonment and accusation. To return to the
+cell which I had left, and where Welbeck was employed in his disastrous
+office, was the expedient which regard to my own safety unavoidably
+suggested.
+
+Welbeck paused, at my approach, and betrayed a momentary consternation
+at the sight of my ensanguined visage. The blood, by some inexplicable
+process of nature, perhaps by the counteracting influence of fear, had
+quickly ceased to flow. Whether the cause of my evasion, and of my flux
+of blood, was guessed, or whether his attention was withdrawn, by more
+momentous objects, from my condition, he proceeded in his task in
+silence.
+
+A shallow bed and a slight covering of clay were provided for the
+hapless Watson. Welbeck's movements were hurried and tremulous. His
+countenance betokened a mind engrossed by a single purpose, in some
+degree foreign to the scene before him. An intensity and fixedness of
+features were conspicuous, that led me to suspect the subversion of his
+reason.
+
+Having finished the task, he threw aside his implement. He then put into
+my hand a pocket-book, saying it belonged to Watson, and might contain
+something serviceable to the living. I might make what use of it I
+thought proper. He then remounted the stairs, and, placing the candle on
+a table in the hall, opened the principal door and went forth. I was
+driven, by a sort of mechanical impulse, in his footsteps. I followed
+him because it was agreeable to him and because I knew not whither else
+to direct my steps.
+
+The streets were desolate and silent. The watchman's call, remotely and
+faintly heard, added to the general solemnity. I followed my companion
+in a state of mind not easily described. I had no spirit even to inquire
+whither he was going. It was not till we arrived at the water's edge
+that I persuaded myself to break silence. I then began to reflect on the
+degree in which his present schemes might endanger Welbeck or myself. I
+had acted long enough a servile and mechanical part; and been guided by
+blind and foreign impulses. It was time to lay aside my fetters, and
+demand to know whither the path tended in which I was importuned to
+walk.
+
+Meanwhile I found myself entangled among boats and shipping. I am unable
+to describe the spot by any indisputable tokens. I know merely that it
+was the termination of one of the principal streets. Here Welbeck
+selected a boat and prepared to enter it. For a moment I hesitated to
+comply with his apparent invitation. I stammered out an
+interrogation:--"Why is this? Why should we cross the river? What
+service can I do for you? I ought to know the purpose of my voyage
+before I enter it."
+
+He checked himself and surveyed me for a minute in silence. "What do you
+fear?" said he. "Have I not explained my wishes? Merely cross the river
+with me, for I cannot navigate a boat by myself. Is there any thing
+arduous or mysterious in this undertaking? we part on the Jersey shore,
+and I shall leave you to your destiny. All I shall ask from you will be
+silence, and to hide from mankind what you know concerning me."
+
+He now entered the boat and urged me to follow his example. I
+reluctantly complied, I perceived that the boat contained but one oar,
+and that was a small one. He seemed startled and thrown into great
+perplexity by this discovery. "It will be impossible," said he, in a
+tone of panic and vexation, "to procure another at this hour: what is to
+be done?"
+
+This impediment was by no means insuperable. I had sinewy arms, and knew
+well how to use an oar for the double purpose of oar and rudder. I took
+my station at the stern, and quickly extricated the boat from its
+neighbours and from the wharves. I was wholly unacquainted with the
+river. The bar by which it was encumbered I knew to exist, but in what
+direction and to what extent it existed, and how it might be avoided in
+the present state of the tide, I knew not. It was probable, therefore,
+unknowing as I was of the proper track, that our boat would speedily
+have grounded.
+
+My attention, meanwhile, was fixed upon the oar. My companion sat at the
+prow, and was in a considerable degree unnoticed. I cast my eyes
+occasionally at the scene which I had left. Its novelty, joined with the
+incidents of my condition, threw me into a state of suspense and wonder
+which frequently slackened my hand and left the vessel to be driven by
+the downward current. Lights were sparingly seen, and these were
+perpetually fluctuating, as masts, yards, and hulls were interposed, and
+passed before them. In proportion as we receded from the shore, the
+clamours seemed to multiply, and the suggestion that the city was
+involved in confusion and uproar did not easily give way to maturer
+thoughts. _Twelve_ was the hour cried, and this ascended at once from
+all quarters, and was mingled with the baying of dogs, so as to produce
+trepidation and alarm.
+
+From this state of magnificent and awful feeling I was suddenly called
+by the conduct of Welbeck. We had scarcely moved two hundred yards from
+the shore, when he plunged into the water. The first conception was that
+some implement or part of the boat had fallen over-board. I looked back
+and perceived that his seat was vacant. In my first astonishment I
+loosened my hold of the oar, and it floated away. The surface was smooth
+as glass, and the eddy occasioned by his sinking was scarcely visible. I
+had not time to determine whether this was designed or accidental. Its
+suddenness deprived me of the power to exert myself for his succour. I
+wildly gazed around me, in hopes of seeing him rise. After some time my
+attention was drawn, by the sound of agitation in the water, to a
+considerable distance.
+
+It was too dark for any thing to be distinctly seen. There was no cry
+for help. The noise was like that of one vigorously struggling for a
+moment, and then sinking to the bottom. I listened with painful
+eagerness, but was unable to distinguish a third signal. He sunk to rise
+no more.
+
+I was for a time inattentive to my own situation. The dreadfulness and
+unexpectedness of this catastrophe occupied me wholly. The quick motion
+of the lights upon the shore showed me that I was borne rapidly along
+with the tide. How to help myself, how to impede my course or to regain
+either shore, since I had lost the oar, I was unable to tell. I was no
+less at a loss to conjecture whither the current, if suffered to control
+my vehicle, would finally transport me.
+
+The disappearance of lights and buildings, and the diminution of the
+noises, acquainted me that I had passed the town. It was impossible
+longer to hesitate. The shore was to be regained by one way only, which
+was swimming. To any exploit of this kind, my strength and my skill were
+adequate. I threw away my loose gown; put the pocket-book of the
+unfortunate Watson in my mouth, to preserve it from being injured by
+moisture; and committed myself to the stream.
+
+I landed in a spot incommoded with mud and reeds. I sunk knee-deep into
+the former, and was exhausted by the fatigue of extricating myself. At
+length I recovered firm ground, and threw myself on the turf to repair
+my wasted strength, and to reflect on the measures which my future
+welfare enjoined me to pursue.
+
+What condition was ever parallel to mine? The transactions of the last
+three days resembled the monstrous creations of delirium. They were
+painted with vivid hues on my memory; but so rapid and incongruous were
+these transitions, that I almost denied belief to their reality. They
+exercised a bewildering and stupefying influence on my mind, from which
+the meditations of an hour were scarcely sufficient to relieve me.
+Gradually I recovered the power of arranging my ideas and forming
+conclusions.
+
+Welbeck was dead. His property was swallowed up, and his creditors left
+to wonder at his disappearance. All that was left was the furniture of
+his house, to which Mrs. Wentworth would lay claim, in discharge of the
+unpaid rent. What now was the destiny that awaited the lost and
+friendless Mademoiselle Lodi? Where was she concealed? Welbeck had
+dropped no intimation by which I might be led to suspect the place of
+her abode. If my power, in other respects, could have contributed aught
+to her relief, my ignorance of her asylum had utterly disabled me.
+
+But what of the murdered person? He had suddenly vanished from the face
+of the earth. His fate and the place of his interment would probably be
+suspected and ascertained. Was I sure to escape from the consequences of
+this deed? Watson had relatives and friends. What influence on their
+state and happiness his untimely and mysterious fate would possess, it
+was obvious to inquire. This idea led me to the recollection of his
+pocket-book. Some papers might be there explanatory of his situation.
+
+I resumed my feet. I knew not where to direct my steps. I was dropping
+with wet, and shivering with the cold. I was destitute of habitation and
+friend. I had neither money nor any valuable thing in my possession. I
+moved forward mechanically and at random. Where I landed was at no great
+distance from the verge of the town. In a short time I discovered the
+glimmering of a distant lamp. To this I directed my steps, and here I
+paused to examine the contents of the pocket-book.
+
+I found three bank-notes, each of fifty dollars, enclosed in a piece of
+blank paper. Besides these were three letters, apparently written by his
+wife, and dated at Baltimore. They were brief, but composed in a strain
+of great tenderness, and containing affecting allusions to their child.
+I could gather, from their date and tenor, that they were received
+during his absence on his recent voyage; that her condition was
+considerably necessitous, and surrounded by wants which their prolonged
+separation had increased.
+
+The fourth letter was open, and seemed to have been very lately written.
+It was directed to Mrs. Mary Watson. He informed her in it of his
+arrival at Philadelphia from St. Domingo; of the loss of his ship and
+cargo; and of his intention to hasten home with all possible expedition.
+He told her that all was lost but one hundred and fifty dollars, the
+greater part of which he should bring with him, to relieve her more
+pressing wants. The letter was signed, and folded, and superscribed, but
+unsealed.
+
+A little consideration showed me in what manner it became me, on this
+occasion, to demean myself. I put the bank-notes in the letter, and
+sealed it with a wafer; a few of which were found in the pocket-book. I
+hesitated some time whether I should add any thing to the information
+which the letter contained, by means of a pencil which offered itself to
+my view; but I concluded to forbear. I could select no suitable terms in
+which to communicate the mournful truth. I resolved to deposit this
+letter at the post-office, where I knew letters could be left at all
+hours.
+
+My reflections at length reverted to my own condition. What was the fate
+reserved for me? How far my safety might be affected by remaining in the
+city, in consequence of the disappearance of Welbeck, and my known
+connection with the fugitive, it was impossible to foresee. My fears
+readily suggested innumerable embarrassments and inconveniences which
+would flow from this source. Besides, on what pretence should I remain?
+To whom could I apply for protection or employment? All avenues, even to
+subsistence, were shut against me. The country was my sole asylum. Here,
+in exchange for my labour, I could at least purchase food, safety, and
+repose. But, if my choice pointed to the country, there was no reason
+for a moment's delay. It would be prudent to regain the fields, and be
+far from this detested city before the rising of the sun.
+
+Meanwhile I was chilled and chafed by the clothes that I wore. To change
+them for others was absolutely necessary to my ease. The clothes which I
+wore were not my own, and were extremely unsuitable to my new condition.
+My rustic and homely garb was deposited in my chamber at Welbeck's.
+These thoughts suggested the design of returning thither. I considered
+that, probably, the servants had not been alarmed. That the door was
+unfastened, and the house was accessible. It would be easy to enter and
+retire without notice; and this, not without some waverings and
+misgivings, I presently determined to do.
+
+Having deposited my letter at the office, I proceeded to my late abode.
+I approached, and lifted the latch with caution. There were no
+appearances of any one having been disturbed. I procured a light in the
+kitchen, and hied softly and with dubious footsteps to my chamber. There
+I disrobed, and resumed my check shirt, and trowsers, and fustian coat.
+This change being accomplished, nothing remained but that I should
+strike into the country with the utmost expedition.
+
+In a momentary review which I took of the past, the design for which
+Welbeck professed to have originally detained me in his service occurred
+to my mind. I knew the danger of reasoning loosely on the subject of
+property. To any trinket or piece of furniture in this house I did not
+allow myself to question the right of Mrs. Wentworth; a right accruing
+to her in consequence of Welbeck's failure in the payment of his rent;
+but there was one thing which I felt an irresistible desire, and no
+scruples which should forbid me, to possess, and that was, the
+manuscript to which Welbeck had alluded, as having been written by the
+deceased Lodi.
+
+I was well instructed in Latin, and knew the Tuscan language to be
+nearly akin to it. I despaired not of being at some time able to
+cultivate this language, and believed that the possession of this
+manuscript might essentially contribute to this end, as well as to many
+others equally beneficial. It was easy to conjecture that the volume was
+to be found among his printed books, and it was scarcely less easy to
+ascertain the truth of this conjecture. I entered, not without tremulous
+sensations, into the apartment which had been the scene of the
+disastrous interview between Watson and Welbeck. At every step I almost
+dreaded to behold the spectre of the former rise before me.
+
+Numerous and splendid volumes were arranged on mahogany shelves, and
+screened by doors of glass. I ran swiftly over their names, and was at
+length so fortunate as to light upon the book of which I was in search.
+I immediately secured it, and, leaving the candle extinguished on a
+table in the parlour, I once more issued forth into the street. With
+light steps and palpitating heart I turned my face towards the country.
+My necessitous condition I believed would justify me in passing without
+payment the Schuylkill bridge, and the eastern sky began to brighten
+with the dawn of morning not till I had gained the distance of nine
+miles from the city.
+
+Such is the tale which I proposed to relate to you. Such are the
+memorable incidents of five days of my life; from which I have gathered
+more instruction than from the whole tissue of my previous existence.
+Such are the particulars of my knowledge respecting the crimes and
+misfortunes of Welbeck; which the insinuations of Wortley, and my desire
+to retain your good opinion, have induced me to unfold.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+Mervyn's pause allowed his auditors to reflect on the particulars of his
+narration, and to compare them with the facts with a knowledge of which
+their own observation had supplied them. My profession introduced me to
+the friendship of Mrs. Wentworth, by whom, after the disappearance of
+Welbeck, many circumstances respecting him had been mentioned. She
+particularly dwelt upon the deportment and appearance of this youth, at
+the single interview which took place between them, and her
+representations were perfectly conformable to those which Mervyn had
+himself delivered.
+
+Previously to this interview, Welbeck had insinuated to her that a
+recent event had put him in possession of the truth respecting the
+destiny of Clavering. A kinsman of his had arrived from Portugal, by
+whom this intelligence had been brought. He dexterously eluded her
+entreaties to be furnished with minuter information, or to introduce
+this kinsman to her acquaintance. As soon as Mervyn was ushered into her
+presence, she suspected him to be the person to whom Welbeck had
+alluded, and this suspicion his conversation had confirmed. She was at a
+loss to comprehend the reasons of the silence which he so pertinaciously
+maintained.
+
+Her uneasiness, however, prompted her to renew her solicitations. On the
+day subsequent to the catastrophe related by Mervyn, she sent a
+messenger to Welbeck, with a request to see him. Gabriel, the black
+servant, informed the messenger that his master had gone into the
+country for a week. At the end of the week, a messenger was again
+despatched with the same errand. He called and knocked, but no one
+answered his signals. He examined the entrance by the kitchen, but
+every avenue was closed. It appeared that the house was wholly deserted.
+
+These appearances naturally gave birth to curiosity and suspicion. The
+house was repeatedly examined, but the solitude and silence within
+continued the same. The creditors of Welbeck were alarmed by these
+appearances, and their claims to the property remaining in the house
+were precluded by Mrs. Wentworth, who, as owner of the mansion, was
+legally entitled to the furniture, in place of the rent which Welbeck
+had suffered to accumulate.
+
+On examining the dwelling, all that was valuable and portable,
+particularly linen and plate, was removed. The remainder was distrained,
+but the tumults of pestilence succeeded and hindered it from being sold.
+Things were allowed to continue in their former situation, and the house
+was carefully secured. We had no leisure to form conjectures on the
+causes of this desertion. An explanation was afforded us by the
+narrative of this youth. It is probable that the servants, finding their
+master's absence continue, had pillaged the house and fled.
+
+Meanwhile, though our curiosity with regard to Welbeck was appeased, it
+was obvious to inquire by what series of inducements and events Mervyn
+was reconducted to the city and led to the spot where I first met with
+him. We intimated our wishes in this respect, and our young friend
+readily consented to take up the thread of his story and bring it down
+to the point that was desired. For this purpose, the ensuing evening was
+selected. Having, at an early hour, shut ourselves up from all intruders
+and visitors, he continued as follows.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I have mentioned that, by sunrise, I had gained the distance of many
+miles from the city. My purpose was to stop at the first farm-house, and
+seek employment as a day-labourer. The first person whom I observed was
+a man of placid mien and plain garb. Habitual benevolence was apparent
+amidst the wrinkles of age. He was traversing his buckwheat-field, and
+measuring, as it seemed, the harvest that was now nearly ripe.
+
+I accosted him with diffidence, and explained my wishes. He listened to
+my tale with complacency, inquired into my name and family, and into my
+qualifications for the office to which I aspired. My answers were candid
+and full.
+
+"Why," said he, "I believe thou and I can make a bargain. We will, at
+least, try each other for a week or two. If it does not suit our mutual
+convenience, we can change. The morning is damp and cool, and thy plight
+does not appear the most comfortable that can be imagined. Come to the
+house and eat some breakfast."
+
+The behaviour of this good man filled me with gratitude and joy.
+Methought I could embrace him as a father, and entrance into his house
+appeared like return to a long-lost and much-loved home. My desolate and
+lonely condition appeared to be changed for paternal regards and the
+tenderness of friendship.
+
+These emotions were confirmed and heightened by every object that
+presented itself under this roof. The family consisted of Mrs. Hadwin,
+two simple and affectionate girls, his daughters, and servants. The
+manners of this family, quiet, artless, and cordial, the occupations
+allotted me, the land by which the dwelling was surrounded, its pure
+airs, romantic walks, and exhaustless fertility, constituted a powerful
+contrast to the scenes which I had left behind, and were congenial with
+every dictate of my understanding and every sentiment that glowed in my
+heart.
+
+My youth, mental cultivation, and circumspect deportment, entitled me to
+deference and confidence. Each hour confirmed me in the good opinion of
+Mr. Hadwin, and in the affections of his daughters. In the mind of my
+employer, the simplicity of the husbandman and the devotion of the
+Quaker were blended with humanity and intelligence. The sisters, Susan
+and Eliza, were unacquainted with calamity and vice through the medium
+of either observation or books. They were strangers to the benefits of
+an elaborate education, but they were endowed with curiosity and
+discernment, and had not suffered their slender means of instruction to
+remain unimproved.
+
+The sedateness of the elder formed an amusing contrast with the laughing
+eye and untamable vivacity of the younger; but they smiled and they
+wept in unison. They thought and acted in different but not discordant
+keys. On all momentous occasions, they reasoned and felt alike. In
+ordinary cases, they separated, as it were, into different tracks; but
+this diversity was productive not of jarring, but of harmony.
+
+A romantic and untutored disposition like mine may be supposed liable to
+strong impressions from perpetual converse with persons of their age and
+sex. The elder was soon discovered to have already disposed of her
+affections. The younger was free, and somewhat that is more easily
+conceived than named stole insensibly upon my heart. The images that
+haunted me at home and abroad, in her absence and her presence,
+gradually coalesced into one shape, and gave birth to an incessant train
+of latent palpitations and indefinable hopes. My days were little else
+than uninterrupted reveries, and night only called up phantoms more
+vivid and equally enchanting.
+
+The memorable incidents which had lately happened scarcely counterpoised
+my new sensations or diverted my contemplations from the present. My
+views were gradually led to rest upon futurity, and in that I quickly
+found cause of circumspection and dread. My present labours were light,
+and were sufficient for my subsistence in a single state; but wedlock
+was the parent of new wants and of new cares. Mr. Hadwin's possessions
+were adequate to his own frugal maintenance, but, divided between his
+children, would be too scanty for either. Besides, this division could
+only take place at his death, and that was an event whose speedy
+occurrence was neither desirable nor probable.
+
+Another obstacle was now remembered. Hadwin was the conscientious member
+of a sect which forbade the marriage of its votaries with those of a
+different communion. I had been trained in an opposite creed, and
+imagined it impossible that I should ever become a proselyte to
+Quakerism. It only remained for me to feign conversion, or to root out
+the opinions of my friend and win her consent to a secret marriage.
+Whether hypocrisy was eligible was no subject of deliberation. If the
+possession of all that ambition can conceive were added to the
+transports of union with Eliza Hadwin, and offered as the price of
+dissimulation, it would have been instantly rejected. My external goods
+were not abundant nor numerous, but the consciousness of rectitude was
+mine; and, in competition with this, the luxury of the heart and of the
+senses, the gratifications of boundless ambition and inexhaustible
+wealth, were contemptible and frivolous.
+
+The conquest of Eliza's errors was easy; but to introduce discord and
+sorrow into this family was an act of the utmost ingratitude and
+profligacy. It was only requisite for my understanding clearly to
+discern, to be convinced of the insuperability of this obstacle. It was
+manifest, therefore, that the point to which my wishes tended was placed
+beyond my reach.
+
+To foster my passion was to foster a disease destructive either of my
+integrity or my existence. It was indispensable to fix my thoughts upon
+a different object, and to debar myself even from her intercourse. To
+ponder on themes foreign to my darling image, and to seclude myself from
+her society, at hours which had usually been spent with her, were
+difficult tasks. The latter was the least practicable. I had to contend
+with eyes which alternately wondered at and upbraided me for my
+unkindness. She was wholly unaware of the nature of her own feelings,
+and this ignorance made her less scrupulous in the expression of her
+sentiments.
+
+Hitherto I had needed not employment beyond myself and my companions.
+Now my new motives made me eager to discover some means of controlling
+and beguiling my thoughts. In this state, the manuscript of Lodi
+occurred to me. In my way hither, I had resolved to make the study of
+the language of this book, and the translation of its contents into
+English, the business and solace of my leisure. Now this resolution was
+revived with new force.
+
+My project was perhaps singular. The ancient language of Italy possessed
+a strong affinity with the modern. My knowledge of the former was my
+only means of gaining the latter. I had no grammar or vocabulary to
+explain how far the meanings and inflections of Tuscan words varied
+from the Roman dialect. I was to ponder on each sentence and phrase; to
+select among different conjectures the most plausible, and to ascertain
+the true by patient and repeated scrutiny.
+
+This undertaking, fantastic and impracticable as it may seem, proved,
+upon experiment, to be within the compass of my powers. The detail of my
+progress would be curious and instructive. What impediments, in the
+attainment of a darling purpose, human ingenuity and patience are able
+to surmount; how much may be done by strenuous and solitary efforts; how
+the mind, unassisted, may draw forth the principles of inflection and
+arrangement; may profit by remote, analogous, and latent similitudes,
+would be forcibly illustrated by my example; but the theme, however
+attractive, must, for the present, be omitted.
+
+My progress was slow; but the perception of hourly improvement afforded
+me unspeakable pleasure. Having arrived near the last pages, I was able
+to pursue, with little interruption, the thread of an eloquent
+narration. The triumph of a leader of outlaws over the popular
+enthusiasm of the Milanese and the claims of neighbouring potentates was
+about to be depicted. The _Condottiero_ Sforza had taken refuge from his
+enemies in a tomb, accidentally discovered amidst the ruins of a Roman
+fortress in the Apennines. He had sought this recess for the sake of
+concealment, but found in it a treasure by which he would be enabled to
+secure the wavering and venal faith of that crew of ruffians that
+followed his standard, provided he fell not into the hands of the
+enemies who were now in search of him.
+
+My tumultuous curiosity was suddenly checked by the following leaves
+being glued together at the edges. To dissever them without injury to
+the written spaces was by no means easy. I proceeded to the task, not
+without precipitation. The edges were torn away, and the leaves parted.
+
+It may be thought that I took up the thread where it had been broken;
+but no. The object that my eyes encountered, and which the cemented
+leaves had so long concealed, was beyond the power of the most
+capricious or lawless fancy to have prefigured; yet it bore a shadowy
+resemblance to the images with which my imagination was previously
+occupied. I opened, and beheld--_a bank-note_!
+
+To the first transports of surprise, the conjecture succeeded, that the
+remaining leaves, cemented together in the same manner, might enclose
+similar bills. They were hastily separated, and the conjecture was
+verified. My sensations at this discovery were of an inexplicable kind.
+I gazed at the notes in silence. I moved my finger over them; held them
+in different positions; read and reread the name of each sum, and the
+signature; added them together, and repeated to myself--"_Twenty
+thousand dollars!_ They are mine, and by such means!"
+
+This sum would have redeemed the fallen fortunes of Welbeck. The dying
+Lodi was unable to communicate all the contents of this inestimable
+volume. He had divided his treasure, with a view to its greater safety,
+between this volume and his pocket-book. Death hasted upon him too
+suddenly to allow him to explain his precautions. Welbeck had placed the
+book in his collection, purposing some time to peruse it; but, deterred
+by anxieties which the perusal would have dissipated, he rushed to
+desperation and suicide, from which some evanescent contingency, by
+unfolding this treasure to his view, would have effectually rescued him.
+
+But was this event to be regretted? This sum, like the former, would
+probably have been expended in the same pernicious prodigality. His
+career would have continued some time longer; but his inveterate habits
+would have finally conducted his existence to the same criminal and
+ignominious close.
+
+But the destiny of Welbeck was accomplished. The money was placed,
+without guilt or artifice, in my possession. My fortune had been thus
+unexpectedly and wondrously propitious. How was I to profit by her
+favour? Would not this sum enable me to gather round me all the
+instruments of pleasure? Equipage, and palace, and a multitude of
+servants; polished mirrors, splendid hangings, banquets, and flatterers,
+were equally abhorrent to my taste and my principles. The accumulation
+of knowledge, and the diffusion of happiness, in which riches may be
+rendered eminently instrumental, were the only precepts of duty, and the
+only avenues to genuine felicity.
+
+"But what," said I, "is my title to this money? By retaining it, shall I
+not be as culpable as Welbeck? It came into his possession, as it came
+into mine, without a crime; but my knowledge of the true proprietor is
+equally certain, and the claims of the unfortunate stranger are as valid
+as ever. Indeed, if utility, and not law, be the measure of justice, her
+claim, desolate and indigent as she is, unfitted, by her past life, by
+the softness and the prejudices of her education, for contending with
+calamity, is incontestable.
+
+"As to me, health and diligence will give me, not only the competence
+which I seek, but the power of enjoying it. If my present condition be
+unchangeable, I shall not be unhappy. My occupations are salutary and
+meritorious; I am a stranger to the cares as well as to the enjoyment of
+riches; abundant means of knowledge are possessed by me, as long as I
+have eyes to gaze at man and at nature, as they are exhibited in their
+original forms or in books. The precepts of my duty cannot be mistaken.
+The lady must be sought and the money restored to her."
+
+Certain obstacles existed to the immediate execution of this scheme. How
+should I conduct my search? What apology should I make for withdrawing
+thus abruptly, and contrary to the terms of an agreement into which I
+had lately entered, from the family and service of my friend and
+benefactor Hadwin?
+
+My thoughts were called away from pursuing these inquiries by a rumour,
+which had gradually swelled to formidable dimensions; and which, at
+length, reached us in our quiet retreats. The city, we were told, was
+involved in confusion and panic, for a pestilential disease had begun
+its destructive progress. Magistrates and citizens were flying to the
+country. The numbers of the sick multiplied beyond all example; even in
+the pest-affected cities of the Levant. The malady was malignant and
+unsparing.
+
+The usual occupations and amusements of life were at an end. Terror had
+exterminated all the sentiments of nature. Wives were deserted by
+husbands, and children by parents. Some had shut themselves in their
+houses, and debarred themselves from all communication with the rest of
+mankind. The consternation of others had destroyed their understanding,
+and their misguided steps hurried them into the midst of the danger
+which they had previously laboured to shun. Men were seized by this
+disease in the streets; passengers fled from them; entrance into their
+own dwellings was denied to them; they perished in the public ways.
+
+The chambers of disease were deserted, and the sick left to die of
+negligence. None could be found to remove the lifeless bodies. Their
+remains, suffered to decay by piecemeal, filled the air with deadly
+exhalations, and added tenfold to the devastation.
+
+Such was the tale, distorted and diversified a thousand ways by the
+credulity and exaggeration of the tellers. At first I listened to the
+story with indifference or mirth. Methought it was confuted by its own
+extravagance. The enormity and variety of such an evil made it unworthy
+to be believed. I expected that every new day would detect the absurdity
+and fallacy of such representations. Every new day, however, added to
+the number of witnesses and the consistency of the tale, till, at
+length, it was not possible to withhold my faith.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+This rumour was of a nature to absorb and suspend the whole soul. A
+certain sublimity is connected with enormous dangers that imparts to our
+consternation or our pity a tincture of the pleasing. This, at least,
+may be experienced by those who are beyond the verge of peril. My own
+person was exposed to no hazard. I had leisure to conjure up terrific
+images, and to personate the witnesses and sufferers of this calamity.
+This employment was not enjoined upon me by necessity, but was ardently
+pursued, and must therefore have been recommended by some nameless
+charm.
+
+Others were very differently affected. As often as the tale was
+embellished with new incidents or enforced by new testimony, the hearer
+grew pale, his breath was stifled by inquietudes, his blood was chilled,
+and his stomach was bereaved of its usual energies. A temporary
+indisposition was produced in many. Some were haunted by a melancholy
+bordering upon madness, and some, in consequence of sleepless panics,
+for which no cause could be assigned, and for which no opiates could be
+found, were attacked by lingering or mortal diseases.
+
+Mr. Hadwin was superior to groundless apprehensions. His daughters,
+however, partook in all the consternation which surrounded them. The
+eldest had, indeed, abundant reason for her terror. The youth to whom
+she was betrothed resided in the city. A year previous to this, he had
+left the house of Mr. Hadwin, who was his uncle, and had removed to
+Philadelphia in pursuit of fortune.
+
+He made himself clerk to a merchant, and, by some mercantile adventures
+in which he had successfully engaged, began to flatter himself with
+being able, in no long time, to support a family. Meanwhile, a tender
+and constant correspondence was maintained between him and his beloved
+Susan. This girl was a soft enthusiast, in whose bosom devotion and love
+glowed with an ardour that has seldom been exceeded.
+
+The first tidings of the _yellow fever_ was heard by her with
+unspeakable perturbation. Wallace was interrogated, by letter,
+respecting its truth. For a time, he treated it as a vague report. At
+length, a confession was extorted from him that there existed a
+pestilential disease in the city; but he added that it was hitherto
+confined to one quarter, distant from the place of his abode.
+
+The most pathetic entreaties were urged by her that he would withdraw
+into the country. He declared his resolution to comply when the street
+in which he lived should become infected and his stay should be attended
+with real danger. He stated how much his interests depended upon the
+favour of his present employer, who had used the most powerful arguments
+to detain him, but declared that, when his situation should become, in
+the least degree, perilous, he would slight every consideration of
+gratitude and interest, and fly to _Malverton_. Meanwhile, he promised
+to communicate tidings of his safety by every opportunity.
+
+Belding, Mr. Hadwin's next neighbour, though not uninfected by the
+general panic, persisted to visit the city daily with his _market-cart_.
+He set out by sunrise, and usually returned by noon. By him a letter was
+punctually received by Susan. As the hour of Belding's return
+approached, her impatience and anxiety increased. The daily epistle was
+received and read, in a transport of eagerness. For a while her emotion
+subsided, but returned with augmented vehemence at noon on the ensuing
+day.
+
+These agitations were too vehement for a feeble constitution like hers.
+She renewed her supplications to Wallace to quit the city. He repeated
+his assertions of being, hitherto, secure, and his promise of coming
+when the danger should be imminent. When Belding returned, and, instead
+of being accompanied by Wallace, merely brought a letter from him, the
+unhappy Susan would sink into fits of lamentation and weeping, and repel
+every effort to console her with an obstinacy that partook of madness.
+It was, at length, manifest that Wallace's delays would be fatally
+injurious to the health of his mistress.
+
+Mr. Hadwin had hitherto been passive. He conceived that the entreaties
+and remonstrances of his daughter were more likely to influence the
+conduct of Wallace than any representations which he could make. Now,
+however, he wrote the contumacious Wallace a letter, in which he laid
+his commands upon him to return in company with Belding, and declared
+that by a longer delay the youth would forfeit his favour.
+
+The malady had, at this time, made considerable progress. Belding's
+interest at length yielded to his fears, and this was the last journey
+which he proposed to make. Hence our impatience for the return of
+Wallace was augmented; since, if this opportunity were lost, no suitable
+conveyance might again be offered him.
+
+Belding set out, as usual, at the dawn of day. The customary interval
+between his departure and return was spent by Susan in a tumult of hopes
+and fears. As noon approached, her suspense arose to a pitch of wildness
+and agony. She could scarcely be restrained from running along the road,
+many miles, towards the city; that she might, by meeting Belding
+half-way, the sooner ascertain the fate of her lover. She stationed
+herself at a window which overlooked the road along which Belding was to
+pass.
+
+Her sister and her father, though less impatient, marked, with painful
+eagerness, the first sound of the approaching vehicle. They snatched a
+look at it as soon as it appeared in sight. Belding was without a
+companion.
+
+This confirmation of her fears overwhelmed the unhappy Susan. She sunk
+into a fit, from which, for a long time, her recovery was hopeless. This
+was succeeded by paroxysms of a furious insanity, in which she
+attempted to snatch any pointed implement which lay within her reach,
+with a view to destroy herself. These being carefully removed, or
+forcibly wrested from her, she resigned herself to sobs and
+exclamations.
+
+Having interrogated Belding, he informed us that he occupied his usual
+post in the market-place; that heretofore Wallace had duly sought him
+out, and exchanged letters; but that, on this morning, the young man had
+not made his appearance, though Belding had been induced, by his wish to
+see him, to prolong his stay in the city much beyond the usual period.
+
+That some other cause than sickness had occasioned this omission was
+barely possible. There was scarcely room for the most sanguine temper to
+indulge a hope. Wallace was without kindred, and probably without
+friends, in the city. The merchant in whose service he had placed
+himself was connected with him by no considerations but that of
+interest. What then must be his situation when seized with a malady
+which all believed to be contagious, and the fear of which was able to
+dissolve the strongest ties that bind human beings together?
+
+I was personally a stranger to this youth. I had seen his letters, and
+they bespoke, not indeed any great refinement or elevation of
+intelligence, but a frank and generous spirit, to which I could not
+refuse my esteem; but his chief claim to my affection consisted in his
+consanguinity to Mr. Hadwin, and his place in the affections of Susan.
+His welfare was essential to the happiness of those whose happiness had
+become essential to mine. I witnessed the outrages of despair in the
+daughter, and the symptoms of a deep but less violent grief in the
+sister and parent. Was it not possible for me to alleviate their pangs?
+Could not the fate of Wallace be ascertained?
+
+This disease assailed men with different degrees of malignity. In its
+worst form perhaps it was incurable; but, in some of its modes, it was
+doubtless conquerable by the skill of physicians and the fidelity of
+nurses. In its least formidable symptoms, negligence and solitude would
+render it fatal.
+
+Wallace might, perhaps, experience this pest in its most lenient
+degree; but the desertion of all mankind, the want not only of medicines
+but of food, would irrevocably seal his doom. My imagination was
+incessantly pursued by the image of this youth, perishing alone, and in
+obscurity; calling on the name of distant friends, or invoking,
+ineffectually, the succour of those who were near.
+
+Hitherto distress had been contemplated at a distance, and through the
+medium of a fancy delighting to be startled by the wonderful, or
+transported by sublimity. Now the calamity had entered my own doors,
+imaginary evils were supplanted by real, and my heart was the seat of
+commiseration and horror.
+
+I found myself unfit for recreation or employment. I shrouded myself in
+the gloom of the neighbouring forest, or lost myself in the maze of
+rocks and dells. I endeavoured, in vain, to shut out the phantoms of the
+dying Wallace, and to forget the spectacle of domestic woes. At length
+it occurred to me to ask, May not this evil be obviated, and the
+felicity of the Hadwins re-established? Wallace is friendless and
+succourless; but cannot I supply to him the place of protector and
+nurse? Why not hasten to the city, search out his abode, and ascertain
+whether he be living or dead? If he still retain life, may I not, by
+consolation and attendance, contribute to the restoration of his health,
+and conduct him once more to the bosom of his family?
+
+With what transports will his arrival be hailed! How amply will their
+impatience and their sorrow be compensated by his return! In the
+spectacle of their joys, how rapturous and pure will be my delight! Do
+the benefits which I have received from the Hadwins demand a less
+retribution than this?
+
+It is true that my own life will be endangered; but my danger will be
+proportioned to the duration of my stay in this seat of infection. The
+death or the flight of Wallace may absolve me from the necessity of
+spending one night in the city. The rustics who daily frequent the
+market are, as experience proves, exempt from this disease; in
+consequence, perhaps, of limiting their continuance in the city to a few
+hours. May I not, in this respect, conform to their example, and enjoy
+a similar exemption?
+
+My stay, however, may be longer than the day. I may be condemned to
+share in the common destiny. What then? Life is dependent on a thousand
+contingencies, not to be computed or foreseen. The seeds of an early and
+lingering death are sown in my constitution. It is in vain to hope to
+escape the malady by which my mother and my brothers have died. We are a
+race whose existence some inherent property has limited to the short
+space of twenty years. We are exposed, in common with the rest of
+mankind, to innumerable casualties; but, if these be shunned, we are
+unalterably fated to perish by _consumption_. Why then should I scruple
+to lay down my life in the cause of virtue and humanity? It is better to
+die in the consciousness of having offered an heroic sacrifice, to die
+by a speedy stroke, than by the perverseness of nature, in ignominious
+inactivity and lingering agonies.
+
+These considerations determined me to hasten to the city. To mention my
+purpose to the Hadwins would be useless or pernicious. It would only
+augment the sum of their present anxieties. I should meet with a
+thousand obstacles in the tenderness and terror of Eliza, and in the
+prudent affection of her father. Their arguments I should be condemned
+to hear, but should not be able to confute; and should only load myself
+with imputations of perverseness and temerity.
+
+But how else should I explain my absence? I had hitherto preserved my
+lips untainted by prevarication or falsehood. Perhaps there was no
+occasion which would justify an untruth; but here, at least, it was
+superfluous or hurtful. My disappearance, if effected without notice or
+warning, will give birth to speculation and conjecture; but my true
+motives will never be suspected, and therefore will excite no fears. My
+conduct will not be charged with guilt. It will merely be thought upon
+with some regret, which will be alleviated by the opinion of my safety,
+and the daily expectation of my return.
+
+But, since my purpose was to search out Wallace, I must be previously
+furnished with directions to the place of his abode, and a description
+of his person. Satisfaction on this head was easily obtained from Mr.
+Hadwin; who was prevented from suspecting the motives of my curiosity,
+by my questions being put in a manner apparently casual. He mentioned
+the street, and the number of the house.
+
+I listened with surprise. It was a house with which I was already
+familiar. He resided, it seems, with a merchant. Was it possible for me
+to be mistaken?
+
+What, I asked, was the merchant's name?
+
+_Thetford._
+
+This was a confirmation of my first conjecture. I recollected the
+extraordinary means by which I had gained access to the house and
+bedchamber of this gentleman. I recalled the person and appearance of
+the youth by whose artifices I had been entangled in the snare. These
+artifices implied some domestic or confidential connection between
+Thetford and my guide. Wallace was a member of the family. Could it be
+he by whom I was betrayed?
+
+Suitable questions easily obtained from Hadwin a description of the
+person and carriage of his nephew. Every circumstance evinced the
+identity of their persons. Wallace, then, was the engaging and sprightly
+youth whom I had encountered at Lesher's; and who, for purposes not
+hitherto discoverable, had led me into a situation so romantic and
+perilous.
+
+I was far from suspecting that these purposes were criminal. It was easy
+to infer that his conduct proceeded from juvenile wantonness and a love
+of sport. My resolution was unaltered by this disclosure; and, having
+obtained all the information which I needed, I secretly began my
+journey.
+
+My reflections, on the way, were sufficiently employed in tracing the
+consequences of my project; in computing the inconveniences and dangers
+to which I was preparing to subject myself; in fortifying my courage
+against the influence of rueful sights and abrupt transitions; and in
+imagining the measures which it would be proper to pursue in every
+emergency.
+
+Connected as these views were with the family and character of
+Thetford, I could not but sometimes advert to those incidents which
+formerly happened. The mercantile alliance between him and Welbeck was
+remembered; the allusions which were made to the condition of the latter
+in the chamber-conversation of which I was an unsuspected auditor; and
+the relation which these allusions might possess with subsequent
+occurrences. Welbeck's property was forfeited. It had been confided to
+the care of Thetford's brother. Had the cause of this forfeiture been
+truly or thoroughly explained? Might not contraband articles have been
+admitted through the management or under the connivance of the brothers?
+and might not the younger Thetford be furnished with the means of
+purchasing the captured vessel and her cargo,--which, as usual, would be
+sold by auction at a fifth or tenth of its real value?
+
+Welbeck was not alive to profit by the detection of this artifice,
+admitting these conclusions to be just. My knowledge will be useless to
+the world; for by what motives can I be influenced to publish the truth?
+or by whom will my single testimony be believed, in opposition to that
+plausible exterior, and, perhaps, to that general integrity, which
+Thetford has maintained? To myself it will not be unprofitable. It is a
+lesson on the principles of human nature; on the delusiveness of
+appearances; on the perviousness of fraud; and on the power with which
+nature has invested human beings over the thoughts and actions of each
+other.
+
+Thetford and his frauds were dismissed from my thoughts, to give place
+to considerations relative to Clemenza Lodi, and the money which chance
+had thrown into my possession. Time had only confirmed my purpose to
+restore these bills to the rightful proprietor, and heightened my
+impatience to discover her retreat. I reflected, that the means of doing
+this were more likely to suggest themselves at the place to which I was
+going than elsewhere. I might, indeed, perish before my views, in this
+respect, could be accomplished. Against these evils I had at present no
+power to provide. While I lived, I would bear perpetually about me the
+volume and its precious contents. If I died, a superior power must
+direct the course of this as of all other events.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+These meditations did not enfeeble my resolution, or slacken my pace. In
+proportion as I drew near the city, the tokens of its calamitous
+condition became more apparent. Every farm-house was filled with
+supernumerary tenants, fugitives from home, and haunting the skirts of
+the road, eager to detain every passenger with inquiries after news. The
+passengers were numerous; for the tide of emigration was by no means
+exhausted. Some were on foot, bearing in their countenances the tokens
+of their recent terror, and filled with mournful reflections on the
+forlornness of their state. Few had secured to themselves an asylum;
+some were without the means of paying for victuals or lodging for the
+coming night; others, who were not thus destitute, yet knew not whither
+to apply for entertainment, every house being already overstocked with
+inhabitants, or barring its inhospitable doors at their approach.
+
+Families of weeping mothers and dismayed children, attended with a few
+pieces of indispensable furniture, were carried in vehicles of every
+form. The parent or husband had perished; and the price of some movable,
+or the pittance handed forth by public charity, had been expended to
+purchase the means of retiring from this theatre of disasters, though
+uncertain and hopeless of accommodation in the neighbouring districts.
+
+Between these and the fugitives whom curiosity had led to the road,
+dialogues frequently took place, to which I was suffered to listen. From
+every mouth the tale of sorrow was repeated with new aggravations.
+Pictures of their own distress, or of that of their neighbours, were
+exhibited in all the hues which imagination can annex to pestilence and
+poverty.
+
+My preconceptions of the evil now appeared to have fallen short of the
+truth. The dangers into which I was rushing seemed more numerous and
+imminent than I had previously imagined. I wavered not in my purpose. A
+panic crept to my heart, which more vehement exertions were necessary to
+subdue or control; but I harboured not a momentary doubt that the course
+which I had taken was prescribed by duty. There was no difficulty or
+reluctance in proceeding. All for which my efforts were demanded was to
+walk in this path without tumult or alarm.
+
+Various circumstances had hindered me from setting out upon this journey
+as early as was proper. My frequent pauses to listen to the narratives
+of travellers contributed likewise to procrastination. The sun had
+nearly set before I reached the precincts of the city. I pursued the
+track which I had formerly taken, and entered High Street after
+nightfall. Instead of equipages and a throng of passengers, the voice of
+levity and glee, which I had formerly observed, and which the mildness
+of the season would, at other times, have produced, I found nothing but
+a dreary solitude.
+
+The market-place, and each side of this magnificent avenue, were
+illuminated, as before, by lamps; but between the verge of Schuylkill
+and the heart of the city I met not more than a dozen figures; and these
+were ghost-like, wrapped in cloaks, from behind which they cast upon me
+glances of wonder and suspicion, and, as I approached, changed their
+course, to avoid touching me. Their clothes were sprinkled with vinegar,
+and their nostrils defended from contagion by some powerful perfume.
+
+I cast a look upon the houses, which I recollected to have formerly
+been, at this hour, brilliant with lights, resounding with lively
+voices, and thronged with busy faces. Now they were closed, above and
+below; dark, and without tokens of being inhabited. From the upper
+windows of some, a gleam sometimes fell upon the pavement I was
+traversing, and showed that their tenants had not fled, but were
+secluded or disabled.
+
+These tokens were new, and awakened all my panics. Death seemed to
+hover over this scene, and I dreaded that the floating pestilence had
+already lighted on my frame. I had scarcely overcome these tremors, when
+I approached a house the door of which was opened, and before which
+stood a vehicle, which I presently recognised to be a _hearse_.
+
+The driver was seated on it. I stood still to mark his visage, and to
+observe the course which he proposed to take. Presently a coffin, borne
+by two men, issued from the house. The driver was a negro; but his
+companions were white. Their features were marked by ferocious
+indifference to danger or pity. One of them, as he assisted in thrusting
+the coffin into the cavity provided for it, said, "I'll be damned if I
+think the poor dog was quite dead. It wasn't the _fever_ that ailed him,
+but the sight of the girl and her mother on the floor. I wonder how they
+all got into that room. What carried them there?"
+
+The other surlily muttered, "Their legs, to-be-sure."
+
+"But what should they hug together in one room for?"
+
+"To save us trouble, to-be-sure."
+
+"And I thank them with all my heart; but, damn it, it wasn't right to
+put him in his coffin before the breath was fairly gone. I thought the
+last look he gave me told me to stay a few minutes."
+
+"Pshaw! He could not live. The sooner dead the better for him; as well
+as for us. Did you mark how he eyed us when we carried away his wife and
+daughter? I never cried in my life, since I was knee-high, but curse me
+if I ever felt in better tune for the business than just then. Hey!"
+continued he, looking up, and observing me standing a few paces distant,
+and listening to their discourse; "what's wanted? Anybody dead?"
+
+I stayed not to answer or parley, but hurried forward. My joints
+trembled, and cold drops stood on my forehead. I was ashamed of my own
+infirmity; and, by vigorous efforts of my reason, regained some degree
+of composure. The evening had now advanced, and it behooved me to
+procure accommodation at some of the inns.
+
+These were easily distinguished by their _signs_, but many were without
+inhabitants. At length I lighted upon one, the hall of which was open
+and the windows lifted. After knocking for some time, a young girl
+appeared, with many marks of distress. In answer to my question, she
+answered that both her parents were sick, and that they could receive no
+one. I inquired, in vain, for any other tavern at which strangers might
+be accommodated. She knew of none such, and left me, on someone's
+calling to her from above, in the midst of my embarrassment. After a
+moment's pause, I returned, discomfited and perplexed, to the street.
+
+
+I proceeded, in a considerable degree, at random. At length I reached a
+spacious building in Fourth Street, which the signpost showed me to be
+an inn. I knocked loudly and often at the door. At length a female
+opened the window of the second story, and, in a tone of peevishness,
+demanded what I wanted. I told her that I wanted lodging.
+
+"Go hunt for it somewhere else," said she; "you'll find none here." I
+began to expostulate; but she shut the window with quickness, and left
+me to my own reflections.
+
+I began now to feel some regret at the journey I had taken. Never, in
+the depth of caverns or forests, was I equally conscious of loneliness.
+I was surrounded by the habitations of men; but I was destitute of
+associate or friend. I had money, but a horse-shelter, or a morsel of
+food, could not be purchased. I came for the purpose of relieving
+others, but stood in the utmost need myself. Even in health my condition
+was helpless and forlorn; but what would become of me should this fatal
+malady be contracted? To hope that an asylum would be afforded to a sick
+man, which was denied to one in health, was unreasonable.
+
+The first impulse which flowed from these reflections was to hasten back
+to _Malverton_; which, with sufficient diligence, I might hope to regain
+before the morning light. I could not, methought, return upon my steps
+with too much speed. I was prompted to run, as if the pest was rushing
+upon me and could be eluded only by the most precipitate flight.
+
+This impulse was quickly counteracted by new ideas. I thought with
+indignation and shame on the imbecility of my proceeding. I called up
+the images of Susan Hadwin, and of Wallace. I reviewed the motives which
+had led me to the undertaking of this journey. Time had, by no means,
+diminished their force. I had, indeed, nearly arrived at the
+accomplishment of what I had intended. A few steps would carry me to
+Thetford's habitation. This might be the critical moment when succour
+was most needed and would be most efficacious.
+
+I had previously concluded to defer going thither till the ensuing
+morning; but why should I allow myself a moment's delay? I might at
+least gain an external view of the house, and circumstances might arise
+which would absolve me from the obligation of remaining an hour longer
+in the city. All for which I came might be performed; the destiny of
+Wallace be ascertained; and I be once more safe within the precincts of
+_Malverton_ before the return of day.
+
+I immediately directed my steps towards the habitation of Thetford.
+Carriages bearing the dead were frequently discovered. A few passengers
+likewise occurred, whose hasty and perturbed steps denoted their
+participation in the common distress. The house of which I was in quest
+quickly appeared. Light from an upper window indicated that it was still
+inhabited.
+
+I paused a moment to reflect in what manner it became me to proceed. To
+ascertain the existence and condition of Wallace was the purpose of my
+journey. He had inhabited this house; and whether he remained in it was
+now to be known. I felt repugnance to enter, since my safety might, by
+entering, be unawares and uselessly endangered. Most of the neighbouring
+houses were apparently deserted. In some there were various tokens of
+people being within. Might I not inquire, at one of these, respecting
+the condition of Thetford's family? Yet why should I disturb them by
+inquiries so impertinent at this unseasonable hour? To knock at
+Thetford's door, and put my questions to him who should obey the signal,
+was the obvious method.
+
+I knocked dubiously and lightly. No one came. I knocked again, and more
+loudly; I likewise drew the bell. I distinctly heard its distant peals.
+If any were within, my signal could not fail to be noticed. I paused,
+and listened, but neither voice nor footsteps could be heard. The light,
+though obscured by window-curtains, which seemed to be drawn close, was
+still perceptible.
+
+I ruminated on the causes that might hinder my summons from being
+obeyed. I figured to myself nothing but the helplessness of disease, or
+the insensibility of death. These images only urged me to persist in
+endeavouring to obtain admission. Without weighing the consequences of
+my act, I involuntarily lifted the latch. The door yielded to my hand,
+and I put my feet within the passage.
+
+Once more I paused. The passage was of considerable extent, and at the
+end of it I perceived light as from a lamp or candle. This impelled me
+to go forward, till I reached the foot of a staircase. A candle stood
+upon the lowest step.
+
+This was a new proof that the house was not deserted. I struck my heel
+against the floor with some violence; but this, like my former signals,
+was unnoticed. Having proceeded thus far, it would have been absurd to
+retire with my purpose uneffected. Taking the candle in my hand, I
+opened a door that was near. It led into a spacious parlour, furnished
+with profusion and splendour. I walked to and fro, gazing at the objects
+which presented themselves; and, involved in perplexity, I knocked with
+my heel louder than ever; but no less ineffectually.
+
+Notwithstanding the lights which I had seen, it was possible that the
+house was uninhabited. This I was resolved to ascertain, by proceeding
+to the chamber which I had observed, from without, to be illuminated.
+This chamber, as far as the comparison of circumstances would permit me
+to decide, I believed to be the same in which I had passed the first
+night of my late abode in the city. Now was I, a second time, in almost
+equal ignorance of my situation, and of the consequences which impended,
+exploring my way to the same recess.
+
+I mounted the stair. As I approached the door of which I was in search,
+a vapour, infectious and deadly, assailed my senses. It resembled
+nothing of which I had ever before been sensible. Many odours had been
+met with, even since my arrival in the city, less supportable than this.
+I seemed not so much to smell as to taste the element that now
+encompassed me. I felt as if I had inhaled a poisonous and subtle fluid,
+whose power instantly bereft my stomach of all vigour. Some fatal
+influence appeared to seize upon my vitals, and the work of corrosion
+and decomposition to be busily begun.
+
+For a moment, I doubted whether imagination had not some share in
+producing my sensation; but I had not been previously panic-struck; and
+even now I attended to my own sensations without mental discomposure.
+That I had imbibed this disease was not to be questioned. So far the
+chances in my favour were annihilated. The lot of sickness was drawn.
+
+Whether my case would be lenient or malignant, whether I should recover
+or perish, was to be left to the decision of the future. This incident,
+instead of appalling me, tended rather to invigorate my courage. The
+danger which I feared had come. I might enter with indifference on this
+theatre of pestilence. I might execute, without faltering, the duties
+that my circumstances might create. My state was no longer hazardous;
+and my destiny would be totally uninfluenced by my future conduct.
+
+The pang with which I was first seized, and the momentary inclination to
+vomit, which it produced, presently subsided. My wholesome feelings,
+indeed, did not revisit me, but strength to proceed was restored to me.
+The effluvia became more sensible as I approached the door of the
+chamber. The door was ajar; and the light within was perceived. My
+belief that those within were dead was presently confuted by sound,
+which I first supposed to be that of steps moving quickly and timorously
+across the floor. This ceased, and was succeeded by sounds of different
+but inexplicable import.
+
+Having entered the apartment, I saw a candle on the hearth. A table was
+covered with vials and other apparatus of a sick-chamber. A bed stood on
+one side, the curtain of which was dropped at the foot, so as to conceal
+any one within. I fixed my eyes upon this object. There were sufficient
+tokens that some one lay upon the bed. Breath, drawn at long intervals;
+mutterings scarcely audible; and a tremulous motion in the bedstead,
+were fearful and intelligible indications.
+
+If my heart faltered, it must not be supposed that my trepidations arose
+from any selfish considerations. Wallace only, the object of my search,
+was present to my fancy. Pervaded with remembrance of the Hadwins; of
+the agonies which they had already endured; of the despair which would
+overwhelm the unhappy Susan when the death of her lover should be
+ascertained; observant of the lonely condition of this house, whence I
+could only infer that the sick had been denied suitable attendance; and
+reminded, by the symptoms that appeared, that this being was struggling
+with the agonies of death; a sickness of the heart, more insupportable
+than that which I had just experienced, stole upon me.
+
+My fancy readily depicted the progress and completion of this tragedy.
+Wallace was the first of the family on whom the pestilence had seized.
+Thetford had fled from his habitation. Perhaps as a father and husband,
+to shun the danger attending his stay was the injunction of his duty. It
+was questionless the conduct which selfish regards would dictate.
+Wallace was left to perish alone; or, perhaps, (which, indeed, was a
+supposition somewhat justified by appearances,) he had been left to the
+tendance of mercenary wretches; by whom, at this desperate moment, he
+had been abandoned.
+
+I was not mindless of the possibility that these forebodings, specious
+as they were, might be false. The dying person might be some other than
+Wallace. The whispers of my hope were, indeed, faint; but they, at
+least, prompted me to snatch a look at the expiring man. For this
+purpose I advanced and thrust my head within the curtain.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+
+The features of one whom I had seen so transiently as Wallace may be
+imagined to be not easily recognised, especially when those features
+were tremulous and deathful. Here, however, the differences were too
+conspicuous to mislead me. I beheld one in whom I could recollect none
+that bore resemblance. Though ghastly and livid, the traces of
+intelligence and beauty were undefaced. The life of Wallace was of more
+value to a feeble individual; but surely the being that was stretched
+before me, and who was hastening to his last breath, was precious to
+thousands.
+
+Was he not one in whose place I would willingly have died? The offering
+was too late. His extremities were already cold. A vapour, noisome and
+contagious, hovered over him. The flutterings of his pulse had ceased.
+His existence was about to close amidst convulsion and pangs.
+
+I withdrew my gaze from this object, and walked to a table. I was nearly
+unconscious of my movements. My thoughts were occupied with
+contemplations of the train of horrors and disasters that pursue the
+race of man. My musings were quickly interrupted by the sight of a small
+cabinet, the hinges of which were broken and the lid half raised. In the
+present state of my thoughts, I was prone to suspect the worst. Here
+were traces of pillage. Some casual or mercenary attendant had not only
+contributed to hasten the death of the patient, but had rifled his
+property and fled.
+
+This suspicion would, perhaps, have yielded to mature reflections, if I
+had been suffered to reflect. A moment scarcely elapsed, when some
+appearance in the mirror, which hung over the table, called my
+attention. It was a human figure. Nothing could be briefer than the
+glance that I fixed upon this apparition; yet there was room enough for
+the vague conception to suggest itself, that the dying man had started
+from his bed and was approaching me. This belief was, at the same
+instant, confuted, by the survey of his form and garb. One eye, a scar
+upon his cheek, a tawny skin, a form grotesquely misproportioned, brawny
+as Hercules, and habited in livery, composed, as it were, the parts of
+one view.
+
+To perceive, to fear, and to confront this apparition were blended into
+one sentiment. I turned towards him with the swiftness of lightning; but
+my speed was useless to my safety. A blow upon my temple was succeeded
+by an utter oblivion of thought and of feeling. I sunk upon the floor
+prostrate and senseless.
+
+My insensibility might be mistaken by observers for death, yet some part
+of this interval was haunted by a fearful dream. I conceived myself
+lying on the brink of a pit, whose bottom the eye could not reach. My
+hands and legs were fettered, so as to disable me from resisting two
+grim and gigantic figures who stooped to lift me from the earth. Their
+purpose, methought, was to cast me into this abyss. My terrors were
+unspeakable, and I struggled with such force, that my bonds snapped and
+I found myself at liberty. At this moment my senses returned, and I
+opened my eyes.
+
+The memory of recent events was, for a time, effaced by my visionary
+horrors. I was conscious of transition from one state of being to
+another; but my imagination was still filled with images of danger. The
+bottomless gulf and my gigantic persecutors were still dreaded. I looked
+up with eagerness. Beside me I discovered three figures, whose character
+or office was explained by a coffin of pine boards which lay upon the
+floor. One stood with hammer and nails in his hand, as ready to replace
+and fasten the lid of the coffin as soon as its burden should be
+received.
+
+I attempted to rise from the floor, but my head was dizzy and my sight
+confused. Perceiving me revive, one of the men assisted me to regain my
+feet. The mist and confusion presently vanished, so as to allow me to
+stand unsupported and to move. I once more gazed at my attendants, and
+recognised the three men whom I had met in High Street, and whose
+conversation I have mentioned that I overheard. I looked again upon the
+coffin. A wavering recollection of the incidents that led me hither, and
+of the stunning blow which I had received, occurred to me. I saw into
+what error appearances had misled these men, and shuddered to reflect by
+what hairbreadth means I had escaped being buried alive.
+
+Before the men had time to interrogate me, or to comment upon my
+situation, one entered the apartment, whose habit and mien tended to
+encourage me. The stranger was characterized by an aspect full of
+composure and benignity, a face in which the serious lines of age were
+blended with the ruddiness and smoothness of youth, and a garb that
+bespoke that religious profession with whose benevolent doctrines the
+example of Hadwin had rendered me familiar.
+
+On observing me on my feet, he betrayed marks of surprise and
+satisfaction. He addressed me in a tone of mildness:--
+
+"Young man," said he, "what is thy condition? Art thou sick? If thou
+art, thou must consent to receive the best treatment which the times
+will afford. These men will convey thee to the hospital at Bush Hill."
+
+The mention of that contagious and abhorred receptacle inspired me with
+some degree of energy. "No," said I, "I am not sick; a violent blow
+reduced me to this situation. I shall presently recover strength enough
+to leave this spot without assistance."
+
+He looked at me with an incredulous but compassionate air:--"I fear thou
+dost deceive thyself or me. The necessity of going to the hospital is
+much to be regretted, but, on the whole, it is best. Perhaps, indeed,
+thou hast kindred or friends who will take care of thee?"
+
+"No," said I; "neither kindred nor friends. I am a stranger in the city.
+I do not even know a single being."
+
+"Alas!" returned the stranger, with a sigh, "thy state is sorrowful.
+But how camest thou hither?" continued he, looking around him; "and
+whence comest thou?"
+
+"I came from the country. I reached the city a few hours ago. I was in
+search of a friend who lived in this house."
+
+"Thy undertaking was strangely hazardous and rash; but who is the friend
+thou seekest? Was it he who died in that bed, and whose corpse has just
+been removed?"
+
+The men now betrayed some impatience; and inquired of the last comer,
+whom they called Mr. Estwick, what they were to do. He turned to me, and
+asked if I were willing to be conducted to the hospital.
+
+I assured him that I was free from disease, and stood in no need of
+assistance; adding, that my feebleness was owing to a stunning blow
+received from a ruffian on my temple. The marks of this blow were
+conspicuous, and after some hesitation he dismissed the men; who,
+lifting the empty coffin on their shoulders, disappeared.
+
+He now invited me to descend into the parlour; "for," said he, "the air
+of this room is deadly. I feel already as if I should have reason to
+repent of having entered it."
+
+He now inquired into the cause of those appearances which he had
+witnessed. I explained my situation as clearly and succinctly as I was
+able.
+
+After pondering, in silence, on my story,--"I see how it is," said he;
+"the person whom thou sawest in the agonies of death was a stranger. He
+was attended by his servant and a hired nurse. His master's death being
+certain, the nurse was despatched by the servant to procure a coffin. He
+probably chose that opportunity to rifle his master's trunk, that stood
+upon the table. Thy unseasonable entrance interrupted him; and he
+designed, by the blow which he gave thee, to secure his retreat before
+the arrival of a hearse. I know the man, and the apparition thou hast so
+well described was his. Thou sayest that a friend of thine lived in this
+house: thou hast come too late to be of service. The whole family have
+perished. Not one was suffered to escape."
+
+This intelligence was fatal to my hopes. It required some efforts to
+subdue my rising emotions. Compassion not only for Wallace, but for
+Thetford, his father, his wife and his child, caused a passionate
+effusion of tears. I was ashamed of this useless and childlike
+sensibility; and attempted to apologize to my companion. The sympathy,
+however, had proved contagious, and the stranger turned away his face to
+hide his own tears.
+
+"Nay," said he, in answer to my excuses, "there is no need to be ashamed
+of thy emotion. Merely to have known this family, and to have witnessed
+their deplorable fate, is sufficient to melt the most obdurate heart. I
+suspect that thou wast united to some one of this family by ties of
+tenderness like those which led the unfortunate _Maravegli_ hither."
+
+This suggestion was attended, in relation to myself, with some degree of
+obscurity; but my curiosity was somewhat excited by the name that he had
+mentioned, I inquired into the character and situation of this person,
+and particularly respecting his connection with this family.
+
+"Maravegli," answered he, "was the lover of the eldest daughter, and
+already betrothed to her. The whole family, consisting of helpless
+females, had placed themselves under his peculiar guardianship. Mary
+Walpole and her children enjoyed in him a husband and a father."
+
+The name of Walpole, to which I was a stranger, suggested doubts which I
+hastened to communicate. "I am in search," said I, "not of a female
+friend, though not devoid of interest in the welfare of Thetford and his
+family. My principal concern is for a youth, by name Wallace."
+
+He looked at me with surprise. "Thetford! this is not his abode. He
+changed his habitation some weeks previous to the _fever_. Those who
+last dwelt under this roof were an Englishwoman and seven daughters."
+
+This detection of my error somewhat consoled me. It was still possible
+that Wallace was alive and in safety. I eagerly inquired whither
+Thetford had removed, and whether he had any knowledge of his present
+condition.
+
+They had removed to No.--, in Market Street. Concerning their state he
+knew nothing. His acquaintance with Thetford was imperfect. Whether he
+had left the city or had remained, he was wholly uninformed.
+
+It became me to ascertain the truth in these respects. I was preparing
+to offer my parting thanks to the person by whom I had been so highly
+benefited; since, as he now informed me, it was by his interposition
+that I was hindered from being enclosed alive in a coffin. He was
+dubious of my true condition, and peremptorily commanded the followers
+of the hearse to desist. A delay of twenty minutes, and some medical
+application, would, he believed, determine whether my life was
+extinguished or suspended. At the end of this time, happily, my senses
+were recovered.
+
+Seeing my intention to depart, he inquired why, and whither I was going.
+Having heard my answer,--"Thy design," resumed he, "is highly indiscreet
+and rash. Nothing will sooner generate this fever than fatigue and
+anxiety. Thou hast scarcely recovered from the blow so lately received.
+Instead of being useful to others, this precipitation will only disable
+thyself. Instead of roaming the streets and inhaling this unwholesome
+air, thou hadst better betake thyself to bed and try to obtain some
+sleep. In the morning, thou wilt be better qualified to ascertain the
+fate of thy friend, and afford him the relief which he shall want."
+
+I could not but admit the reasonableness of these remonstrances; but
+where should a chamber and bed be sought? It was not likely that a new
+attempt to procure accommodation at the inns would succeed better than
+the former.
+
+"Thy state," replied he, "is sorrowful. I have no house to which I can
+lead thee. I divide my chamber, and even my bed, with another, and my
+landlady could not be prevailed upon to admit a stranger. What thou wilt
+do, I know not. This house has no one to defend it. It was purchased and
+furnished by the last possessor; but the whole family, including
+mistress, children, and servants, were cut off in a single week.
+Perhaps no one in America can claim the property. Meanwhile, plunderers
+are numerous and active. A house thus totally deserted, and replenished
+with valuable furniture, will, I fear, become their prey. To-night
+nothing can be done towards rendering it secure, but staying in it. Art
+thou willing to remain here till the morrow?
+
+"Every bed in the house has probably sustained a dead person. It would
+not be proper, therefore, to lie in any one of them. Perhaps thou mayest
+find some repose upon this carpet. It is, at least, better than the
+harder pavement and the open air."
+
+This proposal, after some hesitation, I embraced. He was preparing to
+leave me, promising, if life were spared to him, to return early in the
+morning. My curiosity respecting the person whose dying agonies I had
+witnessed prompted me to detain him a few minutes.
+
+"Ah!" said he, "this, perhaps, is the only one of many victims to this
+pestilence whose loss the remotest generations may have reason to
+deplore. He was the only descendant of an illustrious house of Venice.
+He has been devoted from his childhood to the acquisition of knowledge
+and the practice of virtue. He came hither as an enlightened observer;
+and, after traversing the country, conversing with all the men in it
+eminent for their talents or their office, and collecting a fund of
+observations whose solidity and justice have seldom been paralleled, he
+embarked, three months ago, for Europe.
+
+"Previously to his departure, he formed a tender connection with the
+eldest daughter of this family. The mother and her children had recently
+arrived from England. So many faultless women, both mentally and
+personally considered, it was not my fortune to meet with before. This
+youth well deserved to be adopted into this family. He proposed to
+return with the utmost expedition to his native country, and, after the
+settlement of his affairs, to hasten back to America and ratify his
+contract with Fanny Walpole.
+
+"The ship in which he embarked had scarcely gone twenty leagues to sea,
+before she was disabled by a storm, and obliged to return to port. He
+posted to New York, to gain a passage in a packet shortly to sail.
+Meanwhile this malady prevailed among us. Mary Walpole pole was hindered
+by her ignorance of the nature of that evil which assailed us, and the
+counsel of injudicious friends, from taking the due precautions for her
+safety. She hesitated to fly till flight was rendered impracticable. Her
+death added to the helplessness and distraction of the family. They were
+successively seized and destroyed by the same pest.
+
+"Maravegli was apprized of their danger. He allowed the packet to depart
+without him, and hastened to rescue the Walpoles from the perils which
+encompassed them. He arrived in this city time enough to witness the
+interment of the last survivor. In the same hour he was seized himself
+by this disease: the catastrophe is known to thee.
+
+"I will now leave thee to thy repose. Sleep is no less needful to myself
+than to thee; for this is the second night which has passed without it."
+Saying this, my companion took his leave.
+
+I now enjoyed leisure to review my situation. I experienced no
+inclination to sleep. I lay down for a moment, but my comfortless
+sensations and restless contemplations would not permit me to rest.
+Before I entered this house, I was tormented with hunger; but my craving
+had given place to inquietude and loathing. I paced, in thoughtful and
+anxious mood, across the floor of the apartment.
+
+I mused upon the incidents related by Estwick, upon the exterminating
+nature of this pestilence, and on the horrors of which it was
+productive. I compared the experience of the last hours with those
+pictures which my imagination had drawn in the retirements of
+_Malverton_. I wondered at the contrariety that exists between the
+scenes of the city and the country; and fostered, with more zeal than
+ever, the resolution to avoid those seats of depravity and danger.
+
+Concerning my own destiny, however, I entertained no doubt. My new
+sensations assured me that my stomach had received this corrosive
+poison. Whether I should die or live was easily decided. The sickness
+which assiduous attendance and powerful prescriptions might remove
+would, by negligence and solitude, be rendered fatal; but from whom
+could I expect medical or friendly treatment?
+
+I had indeed a roof over my head. I should not perish in the public way;
+but what was my ground for hoping to continue under this roof? My
+sickness being suspected, I should be dragged in a cart to the hospital;
+where I should, indeed, die, but not with the consolation of loneliness
+and silence. Dying groans were the only music, and livid corpses were
+the only spectacle, to which I should there be introduced.
+
+Immured in these dreary meditations, the night passed away. The light
+glancing through the window awakened in my bosom a gleam of
+cheerfulness. Contrary to my expectations, my feelings were not more
+distempered, notwithstanding my want of sleep, than on the last evening.
+This was a token that my state was far from being so desperate as I
+suspected. It was possible, I thought, that this was the worst
+indisposition to which I was liable.
+
+Meanwhile, the coming of Estwick was impatiently expected. The sun
+arose, and the morning advanced, but he came not. I remembered that he
+talked of having reason to repent his visit to this house. Perhaps he,
+likewise, was sick, and this was the cause of his delay. This man's
+kindness had even my love. If I had known the way to his dwelling, I
+should have hastened thither, to inquire into his condition, and to
+perform for him every office that humanity might enjoin; but he had not
+afforded me any information on that head.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+
+It was now incumbent on me to seek the habitation of Thetford. To leave
+this house accessible to every passenger appeared to be imprudent. I had
+no key by which I might lock the principal door. I therefore bolted it
+on the inside, and passed through a window, the shutters of which I
+closed, though I could not fasten after me. This led me into a spacious
+court, at the end of which was a brick wall, over which I leaped into
+the street. This was the means by which I had formerly escaped from the
+same precincts.
+
+The streets, as I passed, were desolate and silent. The largest
+computation made the number of fugitives two-thirds of the whole people;
+yet, judging by the universal desolation, it seemed as if the solitude
+were nearly absolute. That so many of the houses were closed, I was
+obliged to ascribe to the cessation of traffic, which made the opening
+of their windows useless, and the terror of infection, which made the
+inhabitants seclude themselves from the observation of each other.
+
+I proceeded to search out the house to which Estwick had directed me as
+the abode of Thetford. What was my consternation when I found it to be
+the same at the door of which the conversation took place of which I had
+been an auditor on the last evening!
+
+I recalled the scene of which a rude sketch had been given by the
+_hearse-men_. If such were the fate of the master of the family,
+abounding with money and friends, what could be hoped for the moneyless
+and friendless Wallace? The house appeared to be vacant and silent; but
+these tokens might deceive. There was little room for hope; but
+certainty was wanting, and might, perhaps, be obtained by entering the
+house. In some of the upper rooms a wretched being might be immured; by
+whom the information, so earnestly desired, might be imparted, and to
+whom my presence might bring relief, not only from pestilence, but
+famine. For a moment, I forgot my own necessitous condition, and
+reflected not that abstinence had already undermined my strength.
+
+I proceeded to knock at the door. That my signal was unnoticed produced
+no surprise. The door was unlocked, and I opened. At this moment my
+attention was attracted by the opening of another door near me. I
+looked, and perceived a man issuing forth from a house at a small
+distance.
+
+It now occurred to me, that the information which I sought might
+possibly be gained from one of Thetford's neighbours. This person was
+aged, but seemed to have lost neither cheerfulness nor vigour. He had an
+air of intrepidity and calmness. It soon appeared that I was the object
+of his curiosity. He had, probably, marked my deportment through some
+window of his dwelling, and had come forth to make inquiries into the
+motives of my conduct.
+
+He courteously saluted me. "You seem," said he, "to be in search of some
+one. If I can afford you the information you want, you will be welcome
+to it."
+
+Encouraged by this address, I mentioned the name of Thetford; and added
+my fears that he had not escaped the general calamity.
+
+"It is true," said he. "Yesterday himself, his wife, and his child, were
+in a hopeless condition. I saw them in the evening, and expected not to
+find them alive this morning. As soon as it was light, however, I
+visited the house again; but found it empty. I suppose they must have
+died, and been removed in the night."
+
+Though anxious to ascertain the destiny of Wallace, I was unwilling to
+put direct questions. I shuddered, while I longed to know the truth.
+
+"Why," said I, falteringly, "did he not seasonably withdraw from the
+city? Surely he had the means of purchasing an asylum in the country."
+
+"I can scarcely tell you," he answered. "Some infatuation appeared to
+have seized him. No one was more timorous; but he seemed to think
+himself safe as long as he avoided contact with infected persons. He was
+likewise, I believe, detained by a regard to his interest. His flight
+would not have been more injurious to his affairs than it was to those
+of others; but gain was, in his eyes, the supreme good. He intended
+ultimately to withdraw; but his escape to-day, gave him new courage to
+encounter the perils of to-morrow. He deferred his departure from day to
+day, till it ceased to be practicable."
+
+"His family," said I, "was numerous. It consisted of more than his wife
+and children. Perhaps these retired in sufficient season."
+
+"Yes," said he; "his father left the house at an early period. One or
+two of the servants likewise forsook him. One girl, more faithful and
+heroic than the rest, resisted the remonstrances of her parents and
+friends, and resolved to adhere to him in every fortune. She was anxious
+that the family should fly from danger, and would willingly have fled in
+their company; but while they stayed, it was her immovable resolution
+not to abandon them.
+
+"Alas, poor girl! She knew not of what stuff the heart of Thetford was
+made. Unhappily, she was the first to become sick. I question much
+whether her disease was pestilential. It was, probably, a slight
+indisposition, which, in a few days, would have vanished of itself, or
+have readily yielded to suitable treatment.
+
+"Thetford was transfixed with terror. Instead of summoning a physician,
+to ascertain the nature of her symptoms, he called a negro and his cart
+from Bush Hill. In vain the neighbours interceded for this unhappy
+victim. In vain she implored his clemency, and asserted the lightness of
+her indisposition. She besought him to allow her to send to her mother,
+who resided a few miles in the country, who would hasten to her succour,
+and relieve him and his family from the danger and trouble of nursing
+her.
+
+"The man was lunatic with apprehension. He rejected her entreaties,
+though urged in a manner that would have subdued a heart of flint. The
+girl was innocent, and amiable, and courageous, but entertained an
+unconquerable dread of the hospital. Finding entreaties ineffectual, she
+exerted all her strength in opposition to the man who lifted her into
+the cart.
+
+"Finding that her struggles availed nothing, she resigned herself to
+despair. In going to the hospital, she believed herself led to certain
+death, and to the sufferance of every evil which the known inhumanity of
+its attendants could inflict. This state of mind, added to exposure to a
+noonday sun, in an open vehicle, moving, for a mile, over a rugged
+pavement, was sufficient to destroy her. I was not surprised to hear
+that she died the next day.
+
+"This proceeding was sufficiently iniquitous; yet it was not the worst
+act of this man. The rank and education of the young woman might be some
+apology for negligence; but his clerk, a youth who seemed to enjoy his
+confidence, and to be treated by his family on the footing of a brother
+or son, fell sick on the next night, and was treated in the same
+manner."
+
+These tidings struck me to the heart. A burst of indignation and sorrow
+filled my eyes. I could scarcely stifle my emotions sufficiently to ask,
+"Of whom, sir, do you speak? Was the name of the youth--his
+name--was----"
+
+"His name was Wallace. I see that you have some interest in his fate. He
+was one whom I loved. I would have given half my fortune to procure him
+accommodation under some hospitable roof. His attack was violent; but,
+still, his recovery, if he had been suitably attended, was possible.
+That he should survive removal to the hospital, and the treatment he
+must receive when there, was not to be hoped.
+
+"The conduct of Thetford was as absurd as it was wicked. To imagine the
+disease to be contagious was the height of folly; to suppose himself
+secure, merely by not permitting a sick man to remain under his roof,
+was no less stupid; but Thetford's fears had subverted his
+understanding. He did not listen to arguments or supplications. His
+attention was incapable of straying from one object. To influence him by
+words was equivalent to reasoning with the deaf.
+
+"Perhaps the wretch was more to be pitied than hated. The victims of his
+implacable caution could scarcely have endured agonies greater than
+those which his pusillanimity inflicted on himself. Whatever be the
+amount of his guilt, the retribution has been adequate. He witnessed the
+death of his wife and child, and last night was the close of his own
+existence. Their sole attendant was a black woman; whom, by frequent
+visits, I endeavoured, with little success, to make diligent in the
+performance of her duty."
+
+Such, then, was the catastrophe of Wallace. The end for which I
+journeyed hither was accomplished. His destiny was ascertained; and all
+that remained was to fulfil the gloomy predictions of the lovely but
+unhappy Susan. To tell them all the truth would be needlessly to
+exasperate her sorrow. Time, aided by the tenderness and sympathy of
+friendship, may banish her despair, and relieve her from all but the
+witcheries of melancholy.
+
+Having disengaged my mind from these reflections, I explained to my
+companion, in general terms, my reasons for visiting the city, and my
+curiosity respecting. Thetford. He inquired into the particulars of my
+journey, and the time of my arrival. When informed that I had come in
+the preceding evening, and had passed the subsequent hours without sleep
+or food, he expressed astonishment and compassion.
+
+"Your undertaking," said he, "has certainly been hazardous. There is
+poison in every breath which you draw, but this hazard has been greatly
+increased by abstaining from food and sleep. My advice is to hasten back
+into the country; but you must first take some repose and some victuals.
+If you pass Schuylkill before nightfall, it will be sufficient."
+
+I mentioned the difficulty of procuring accommodation on the road. It
+would be most prudent to set out upon my journey so as to reach
+_Malverton_ at night. As to food and sleep, they were not to be
+purchased in this city.
+
+"True," answered my companion, with quickness, "they are not to be
+bought; but I will furnish you with as much as you desire of both, for
+nothing. That is my abode," continued he, pointing to the house which he
+had lately left. "I reside with a widow lady and her daughter, who took
+my counsel, and fled in due season. I remain to moralize upon the scene,
+with only a faithful black, who makes my bed, prepares my coffee, and
+bakes my loaf. If I am sick, all that a physician can do, I will do for
+myself, and all that a nurse can perform, I expect to be performed by
+_Austin_.
+
+"Come with me, drink some coffee, rest a while on my mattress, and then
+fly, with my benedictions on your head."
+
+These words were accompanied by features disembarrassed and benevolent.
+My temper is alive to social impulses, and I accepted his invitation,
+not so much because I wished to eat or to sleep, but because I felt
+reluctance to part so soon with a being who possessed so much fortitude
+and virtue.
+
+He was surrounded by neatness and plenty. Austin added dexterity to
+submissiveness. My companion, whose name I now found to be Medlicote,
+was prone to converse, and commented on the state of the city like one
+whose reading had been extensive and experience large. He combated an
+opinion which I had casually formed respecting the origin of this
+epidemic, and imputed it, not to infected substances imported from the
+East or West, but to a morbid constitution of the atmosphere, owing
+wholly or in part to filthy streets, airless habitations, and squalid
+persons.
+
+As I talked with this man, the sense of danger was obliterated, I felt
+confidence revive in my heart, and energy revisit my stomach. Though far
+from my wonted health, my sensation grew less comfortless, and I found
+myself to stand in no need of repose.
+
+Breakfast being finished, my friend pleaded his daily engagements as
+reasons for leaving me. He counselled me to strive for some repose, but
+I was conscious of incapacity to sleep. I was desirous of escaping, as
+soon as possible, from this tainted atmosphere, and reflected whether
+any thing remained to be done respecting Wallace.
+
+It now occurred to me that this youth must have left some clothes and
+papers, and, perhaps, books. The property of these was now vested in the
+Hadwins. I might deem myself, without presumption, their representative
+or agent. Might I not take some measures for obtaining possession, or at
+least for the security, of these articles?
+
+The house and its furniture were tenantless and unprotected. It was
+liable to be ransacked and pillaged by those desperate ruffians of whom
+many were said to be hunting for spoil even at a time like this. If
+these should overlook this dwelling, Thetford's unknown successor or
+heir might appropriate the whole. Numberless accidents might happen to
+occasion the destruction or embezzlement of what belonged to Wallace,
+which might be prevented by the conduct which I should now pursue.
+
+Immersed in these perplexities, I remained bewildered and motionless. I
+was at length roused by some one knocking at the door. Austin obeyed the
+signal, and instantly returned, leading in--Mr. Hadwin!
+
+I know not whether this unlooked-for interview excited on my part most
+grief or surprise. The motive of his coming was easily divined. His
+journey was on two accounts superfluous. He whom he sought was dead. The
+duty of ascertaining his condition I had assigned to myself.
+
+I now perceived and deplored the error of which I had been guilty, in
+concealing my intended journey from my patron. Ignorant of the part I
+had acted, he had rushed into the jaws of this pest, and endangered a
+life unspeakably valuable to his children and friends. I should
+doubtless have obtained his grateful consent to the project which I had
+conceived; but my wretched policy had led me into this clandestine path.
+Secrecy may seldom be a crime. A virtuous intention may produce it; but
+surely it is always erroneous and pernicious.
+
+My friend's astonishment at the sight of me was not inferior to my own.
+The causes which led to this unexpected interview were mutually
+explained. To soothe the agonies of his child, he consented to approach
+the city, and endeavour to procure intelligence of Wallace. When he
+left his house, he intended to stop in the environs, and hire some
+emissary, whom an ample reward might tempt to enter the city, and
+procure the information which was needed.
+
+No one could be prevailed upon to execute so dangerous a service. Averse
+to return without performing his commission, he concluded to examine for
+himself. Thetford's removal to this street was known to him; but, being
+ignorant of my purpose, he had not mentioned this circumstance to me,
+during our last conversation.
+
+I was sensible of the danger which Hadwin had incurred by entering the
+city. Perhaps my knowledge of the inexpressible importance of his life
+to the happiness of his daughters made me aggravate his danger. I knew
+that the longer he lingered in this tainted air, the hazard was
+increased. A moment's delay was unnecessary. Neither Wallace nor myself
+were capable of being benefited by his presence.
+
+I mentioned the death of his nephew as a reason for hastening his
+departure. I urged him in the most vehement terms to remount his horse
+and to fly; I endeavoured to preclude all inquiries respecting myself or
+Wallace; promising to follow him immediately, and answer all his
+questions at _Malverton_. My importunities were enforced by his own
+fears, and, after a moment's hesitation, he rode away.
+
+The emotions produced by this incident were, in the present critical
+state of my frame, eminently hurtful. My morbid indications suddenly
+returned. I had reason to ascribe my condition to my visit to the
+chamber of Maravegli; but this and its consequences to myself, as well
+as the journey of Hadwin, were the fruits of my unhappy secrecy.
+
+I had always been accustomed to perform my journeys on foot. This, on
+ordinary occasions, was the preferable method, but now I ought to have
+adopted the easiest and swiftest means. If Hadwin had been acquainted
+with my purpose he would not only have approved, but would have allowed
+me, the use of a horse. These reflections were rendered less pungent by
+the recollection that my motives were benevolent, and that I had
+endeavoured the benefit of others by means which appeared to me most
+suitable.
+
+Meanwhile, how was I to proceed? What hindered me from pursuing the
+footsteps of Hadwin with all the expedition which my uneasiness, of
+brain and stomach, would allow? I conceived that to leave any thing
+undone, with regard to Wallace, would be absurd. His property might be
+put under the care of my new friend. But how was it to be distinguished
+from the property of others? It was, probably, contained in trunks,
+which were designated by some label or mark. I was unacquainted with his
+chamber, but, by passing from one to the other, I might finally discover
+it. Some token, directing my footsteps, might occur, though at present
+unforeseen.
+
+Actuated by these considerations, I once more entered Thetford's
+habitation. I regretted that I had not procured the counsel or
+attendance of my new friend; but some engagements, the nature of which
+he did not explain, occasioned him to leave me as soon as breakfast was
+finished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+
+I wandered over this deserted mansion, in a considerable degree, at
+random. Effluvia of a pestilential nature assailed me from every corner.
+In the front room of the second story, I imagined that I discovered
+vestiges of that catastrophe which the past night had produced. The bed
+appeared as if some one had recently been dragged from it. The sheets
+were tinged with yellow, and with that substance which is said to be
+characteristic of this disease, the gangrenous or black vomit. The floor
+exhibited similar stains.
+
+There are many who will regard my conduct as the last refinement of
+temerity, or of heroism. Nothing, indeed, more perplexes me than a
+review of my own conduct. Not, indeed, that death is an object always to
+be dreaded, or that my motive did not justify my actions; but of all
+dangers, those allied to pestilence, by being mysterious and unseen, are
+the most formidable. To disarm them of their terrors requires the
+longest familiarity. Nurses and physicians soonest become intrepid or
+indifferent; but the rest of mankind recoil from the scene with
+unconquerable loathing.
+
+I was sustained, not by confidence of safety, and a belief of exemption
+from this malady, or by the influence of habit, which inures us to all
+that is detestable or perilous, but by a belief that this was as
+eligible an avenue to death as any other; and that life is a trivial
+sacrifice in the cause of duty.
+
+I passed from one room to the other. A portmanteau, marked with the
+initials of Wallace's name, at length attracted my notice. From this
+circumstance I inferred that this apartment had been occupied by him.
+The room was neatly arranged, and appeared as if no one had lately used
+it. There were trunks and drawers. That which I have mentioned was the
+only one that bore marks of Wallace's ownership. This I lifted in my
+arms with a view to remove it to Medlicote's house.
+
+At that moment, methought I heard a footstep slowly and lingeringly
+ascending the stair. I was disconcerted at this incident. The footstep
+had in it a ghost-like solemnity and tardiness. This phantom vanished in
+a moment, and yielded place to more humble conjectures. A human being
+approached, whose office and commission were inscrutable. That we were
+strangers to each other was easily imagined; but how would my
+appearance, in this remote chamber, and loaded with another's property,
+be interpreted? Did he enter the house after me, or was he the tenant of
+some chamber hitherto unvisited; whom my entrance had awakened from his
+trance and called from his couch?
+
+In the confusion of my mind, I still held my burden uplifted. To have
+placed it on the floor, and encountered this visitant, without this
+equivocal token about me, was the obvious proceeding. Indeed, time only
+could decide whether these footsteps tended to this, or to some other,
+apartment.
+
+My doubts were quickly dispelled. The door opened, and a figure glided
+in. The portmanteau dropped from my arms, and my heart's blood was
+chilled. If an apparition of the dead were possible, (and that
+possibility I could not deny,) this was such an apparition. A hue,
+yellowish and livid; bones, uncovered with flesh; eyes, ghastly, hollow,
+woe-begone, and fixed in an agony of wonder upon me; and locks, matted
+and negligent, constituted the image which I now beheld. My belief of
+somewhat preternatural in this appearance was confirmed by recollection
+of resemblances between these features and those of one who was dead. In
+this shape and visage, shadowy and death-like as they were, the
+lineaments of Wallace, of him who had misled my rustic simplicity on my
+first visit to this city, and whose death I had conceived to be
+incontestably ascertained, were forcibly recognised.
+
+This recognition, which at first alarmed my superstition, speedily led
+to more rational inferences. Wallace had been dragged to the hospital.
+Nothing was less to be suspected than that he would return alive from
+that hideous receptacle, but this was by no means impossible. The figure
+that stood before me had just risen from the bed of sickness, and from
+the brink of the grave. The crisis of his malady had passed, and he was
+once more entitled to be ranked among the living.
+
+This event, and the consequences which my imagination connected with it,
+filled me with the liveliest joy. I thought not of his ignorance of the
+causes of my satisfaction, of the doubts to which the circumstances of
+our interview would give birth, respecting the integrity of my purpose.
+I forgot the artifices by which I had formerly been betrayed, and the
+embarrassments which a meeting with the victim of his artifices would
+excite in him; I thought only of the happiness which his recovery would
+confer upon his uncle and his cousins.
+
+I advanced towards him with an air of congratulation, and offered him my
+hand. He shrunk back, and exclaimed, in a feeble voice, "Who are you?
+What business have you here?"
+
+"I am the friend of Wallace, if he will allow me to be so. I am a
+messenger from your uncle and cousins at _Malverton_. I came to know the
+cause of your silence, and to afford you any assistance in my power."
+
+He continued to regard me with an air of suspicion and doubt. These I
+endeavoured to remove by explaining the motives that led me hither. It
+was with difficulty that he seemed to credit my representations. When
+thoroughly convinced of the truth of my assertions, he inquired with
+great anxiety and tenderness concerning his relations; and expressed his
+hope that they were ignorant of what had befallen him.
+
+I could not encourage his hopes. I regretted my own precipitation in
+adopting the belief of his death. This belief had been uttered with
+confidence, and without stating my reasons for embracing it, to Mr.
+Hadwin. These tidings would be borne to his daughters, and their grief
+would be exasperated to a deplorable and perhaps to a fatal degree.
+
+There was but one method of repairing or eluding this mischief.
+Intelligence ought to be conveyed to them of his recovery. But where was
+the messenger to be found? No one's attention could be found disengaged
+from his own concerns. Those who were able or willing to leave the city
+had sufficient motives for departure, in relation to themselves. If
+vehicle or horse were procurable for money, ought it not to be secured
+for the use of Wallace himself, whose health required the easiest and
+speediest conveyance from this theatre of death?
+
+My companion was powerless in mind as in limbs. He seemed unable to
+consult upon the means of escaping from the inconveniences by which he
+was surrounded. As soon as sufficient strength was regained, he had left
+the hospital. To repair to _Malverton_ was the measure which prudence
+obviously dictated; but he was hopeless of effecting it. The city was
+close at hand; this was his usual home; and hither his tottering and
+almost involuntary steps conducted him.
+
+He listened to my representations and counsels, and acknowledged their
+propriety. He put himself under my protection and guidance, and promised
+to conform implicitly to my directions. His strength had sufficed to
+bring him thus far, but was now utterly exhausted. The task of searching
+for a carriage and horse devolved upon me.
+
+In effecting this purpose, I was obliged to rely upon my own ingenuity
+and diligence. Wallace, though so long a resident in the city, knew not
+to whom I could apply, or by whom carriages were let to hire. My own
+reflections taught me, that this accommodation was most likely to be
+furnished by innkeepers, or that some of those might at least inform me
+of the best measures to be taken. I resolved to set out immediately on
+this search. Meanwhile, Wallace was persuaded to take refuge in
+Medlicote's apartments; and to make, by the assistance of Austin, the
+necessary preparation for his journey.
+
+The morning had now advanced. The rays of a sultry sun had a sickening
+and enfeebling influence beyond any which I had ever experienced. The
+drought of unusual duration had bereft the air and the earth of every
+particle of moisture. The element which I breathed appeared to have
+stagnated into noxiousness and putrefaction. I was astonished at
+observing the enormous diminution of my strength. My brows were heavy,
+my intellects benumbed, my sinews enfeebled, and my sensations
+universally unquiet.
+
+These prognostics were easily interpreted. What I chiefly dreaded was,
+that they would disable me from executing the task which I had
+undertaken. I summoned up all my resolution, and cherished a disdain of
+yielding to this ignoble destiny. I reflected that the source of all
+energy, and even of life, is seated in thought; that nothing is arduous
+to human efforts; that the external frame will seldom languish, while
+actuated by an unconquerable soul.
+
+I fought against my dreary feelings, which pulled me to the earth. I
+quickened my pace, raised my drooping eyelids, and hummed a cheerful and
+favourite air. For all that I accomplished during this day, I believe
+myself indebted to the strenuousness and ardour of my resolutions.
+
+I went from one tavern to another. One was deserted; in another the
+people were sick, and their attendants refused to hearken to my
+inquiries or offers; at a third, their horses were engaged. I was
+determined to prosecute my search as long as an inn or a livery-stable
+remained unexamined, and my strength would permit.
+
+To detail the events of this expedition, the arguments and supplications
+which I used to overcome the dictates of avarice and fear, the
+fluctuation of my hopes and my incessant disappointments, would be
+useless. Having exhausted all my expedients ineffectually, I was
+compelled to turn my weary steps once more to Medlicote's lodgings.
+
+My meditations were deeply engaged by the present circumstances of my
+situation. Since the means which were first suggested were
+impracticable, I endeavoured to investigate others. Wallace's debility
+made it impossible for him to perform this journey on foot; but would
+not his strength and his resolution suffice to carry him beyond
+Schuylkill? A carriage or horse, though not to be obtained in the city,
+could, without difficulty, be procured in the country. Every farmer had
+beasts for burden and draught. One of these might be hired, at no
+immoderate expense, for half a day.
+
+This project appeared so practicable and so specious, that I deeply
+regretted the time and the efforts which had already been so fruitlessly
+expended. If my project, however, had been mischievous, to review it
+with regret was only to prolong and to multiply its mischiefs. I trusted
+that time and strength would not be wanting to the execution of this new
+design.
+
+On entering Medlicote's house, my looks, which, in spite of my languors,
+were sprightly and confident, flattered Wallace with the belief that my
+exertions had succeeded. When acquainted with their failure, he sunk as
+quickly into hopelessness. My new expedient was heard by him with no
+marks of satisfaction. It was impossible, he said, to move from this
+spot by his own strength. All his powers were exhausted by his walk from
+Bush Hill.
+
+I endeavoured, by arguments and railleries, to revive his courage. The
+pure air of the country would exhilarate him into new life. He might
+stop at every fifty yards, and rest upon the green sod. If overtaken by
+the night, we would procure a lodging, by address and importunity; but,
+if every door should be shut against us, we should at least enjoy the
+shelter of some barn, and might diet wholesomely upon the new-laid eggs
+that we should find there. The worst treatment we could meet with was
+better than continuance in the city.
+
+These remonstrances had some influence, and he at length consented to
+put his ability to the test. First, however, it was necessary to
+invigorate himself by a few hours' rest. To this, though with infinite
+reluctance, I consented.
+
+This interval allowed him to reflect upon the past, and to inquire into
+the fate of Thetford and his family. The intelligence which Medlicote
+had enabled me to afford him was heard with more satisfaction than
+regret. The ingratitude and cruelty with which he had been treated
+seemed to have extinguished every sentiment but hatred and vengeance. I
+was willing to profit by this interval to know more of Thetford than I
+already possessed. I inquired why Wallace had so perversely neglected
+the advice of his uncle and cousin, and persisted to brave so many
+dangers when flight was so easy.
+
+"I cannot justify my conduct," answered he. "It was in the highest
+degree thoughtless and perverse. I was confident and unconcerned as long
+as our neighbourhood was free from disease, and as long as I forbore any
+communication with the sick; yet I should have withdrawn to Malverton,
+merely to gratify my friends, if Thetford had not used the most powerful
+arguments to detain me. He laboured to extenuate the danger.
+
+"'Why not stay,' said he, 'as long as I and my family stay? Do you think
+that we would linger here, if the danger were imminent? As soon as it
+becomes so, we will fly. You know that we have a country-house prepared
+for our reception. When we go, you shall accompany us. Your services at
+this time are indispensable to my affairs. If you will not desert me,
+your salary next year shall be double; and that will enable you to marry
+your cousin immediately. Nothing is more improbable than that any of us
+should be sick; but, if this should happen to you, I plight my honour
+that you shall be carefully and faithfully attended.'
+
+"These assurances were solemn and generous. To make Susan Hadwin my wife
+was the scope of all my wishes and labours. By staying, I should hasten
+this desirable event, and incur little hazard. By going, I should
+alienate the affections of Thetford; by whom, it is but justice to
+acknowledge, that I had hitherto been treated with unexampled generosity
+and kindness; and blast all the schemes I had formed for rising into
+wealth.
+
+"My resolution was by no means steadfast. As often as a letter from
+_Malverton_ arrived, I felt myself disposed to hasten away; but this
+inclination was combated by new arguments and new entreaties of
+Thetford.
+
+"In this state of suspense, the girl by whom Mrs. Thetford's infant was
+nursed fell sick. She was an excellent creature, and merited better
+treatment than she received. Like me, she resisted the persuasions of
+her friends, but her motives for remaining were disinterested and
+heroic.
+
+"No sooner did her indisposition appear, than she was hurried to the
+hospital. I saw that no reliance could be placed upon the assurances of
+Thetford. Every consideration gave way to his fear of death. After the
+girl's departure, though he knew that she was led by his means to
+execution, yet he consoled himself by repeating and believing her
+assertions, that her disease was not _the fever_.
+
+"I was now greatly alarmed for my own safety. I was determined to
+encounter his anger and repel his persuasions; and to depart with the
+market-man next morning. That night, however, I was seized with a
+violent fever. I knew in what manner patients were treated at the
+hospital, and removal thither was to the last degree abhorred.
+
+"The morning arrived, and my situation was discovered. At the first
+intimation, Thetford rushed out of the house, and refused to re-enter it
+till I was removed. I knew not my fate, till three ruffians made their
+appearance at my bedside, and communicated their commission.
+
+"I called on the name of Thetford and his wife. I entreated a moment's
+delay, till I had seen these persons, and endeavoured to procure a
+respite from my sentence. They were deaf to my entreaties, and prepared
+to execute their office by force. I was delirious with rage and terror.
+I heaped the bitterest execrations on my murderer; and by turns, invoked
+the compassion of, and poured a torrent of reproaches on, the wretches
+whom he had selected for his ministers. My struggles and outcries were
+vain.
+
+"I have no perfect recollection of what passed till my arrival at the
+hospital. My passions combined with my disease to make me frantic and
+wild. In a state like mine, the slightest motion could not be endured
+without agony. What then must I have felt, scorched and dazzled by the
+sun, sustained by hard boards, and borne for miles over a rugged
+pavement?
+
+"I cannot make you comprehend the anguish of my feelings. To be
+disjointed and torn piecemeal by the rack was a torment inexpressibly
+inferior to this. Nothing excites my wonder but that I did not expire
+before the cart had moved three paces.
+
+"I knew not how, or by whom, I was moved from this vehicle.
+Insensibility came at length to my relief. After a time I opened my
+eyes, and slowly gained some knowledge of my situation. I lay upon a
+mattress, whose condition proved that a half-decayed corpse had recently
+been dragged from it. The room was large, but it was covered with beds
+like my own. Between each, there was scarcely the interval of three
+feet. Each sustained a wretch, whose groans and distortions bespoke the
+desperateness of his condition.
+
+"The atmosphere was loaded by mortal stenches. A vapour, suffocating and
+malignant, scarcely allowed me to breathe. No suitable receptacle was
+provided for the evacuations produced by medicine or disease. My nearest
+neighbour was struggling with death, and my bed, casually extended, was
+moist with the detestable matter which had flowed from his stomach.
+
+"You will scarcely believe that, in this scene of horrors, the sound of
+laughter should be overheard. While the upper rooms of this building are
+filled with the sick and the dying, the lower apartments are the scene
+of carousals and mirth. The wretches who are hired, at enormous wages,
+to tend the sick and convey away the dead, neglect their duty, and
+consume the cordials which are provided for the patients, in debauchery
+and riot.
+
+"A female visage, bloated with malignity and drunkenness, occasionally
+looked in. Dying eyes were cast upon her, invoking the boon, perhaps, of
+a drop of cold water, or her assistance to change a posture which
+compelled him to behold the ghastly writhings or deathful _smile_ of his
+neighbour.
+
+"The visitant had left the banquet for a moment, only to see who was
+dead. If she entered the room, blinking eyes and reeling steps showed
+her to be totally unqualified for ministering the aid that was needed.
+Presently she disappeared, and others ascended the staircase, a coffin
+was deposited at the door, the wretch, whose heart still quivered, was
+seized by rude hands, and dragged along the floor into the passage.
+
+"Oh! how poor are the conceptions which are formed, by the fortunate
+few, of the sufferings to which millions of their fellow-beings are
+condemned. This misery was more frightful, because it was seen to flow
+from the depravity of the attendants. My own eyes only would make me
+credit the existence of wickedness so enormous. No wonder that to die in
+garrets, and cellars, and stables, unvisited and unknown, had, by so
+many, been preferred to being brought hither.
+
+"A physician cast an eye upon my state. He gave some directions to the
+person who attended him. I did not comprehend them, they were never
+executed by the nurses, and, if the attempt had been made, I should
+probably have refused to receive what was offered. Recovery was equally
+beyond my expectations and my wishes. The scene which was hourly
+displayed before me, the entrance of the sick, most of whom perished in
+a few hours, and their departure to the graves prepared for them,
+reminded me of the fate to which I, also, was reserved.
+
+"Three days passed away, in which every hour was expected to be the
+last. That, amidst an atmosphere so contagious and deadly, amidst causes
+of destruction hourly accumulating, I should yet survive, appears to me
+nothing less than miraculous. That of so many conducted to this house
+the only one who passed out of it alive should be myself almost
+surpasses my belief.
+
+"Some inexplicable principle rendered harmless those potent enemies of
+human life. My fever subsided and vanished. My strength was revived, and
+the first use that I made of my limbs was to bear me far from the
+contemplation and sufferance of those evils."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+
+Having gratified my curiosity in this respect, Wallace proceeded to
+remind me of the circumstances of our first interview. He had
+entertained doubts whether I was the person whom he had met at Lesher's.
+I acknowledged myself to be the same, and inquired, in my turn, into the
+motives of his conduct on that occasion.
+
+"I confess," said he, with some hesitation, "I meant only to sport with
+your simplicity and ignorance. You must not imagine, however, that my
+stratagem was deep-laid and deliberately executed. My professions at the
+tavern were sincere. I meant not to injure but to serve you. It was not
+till I reached the head of the staircase that the mischievous
+contrivance occurred. I foresaw nothings at the moment, but ludicrous
+mistakes and embarrassment. The scheme was executed almost at the very
+moment it occurred.
+
+"After I had returned to the parlour, Thetford charged me with the
+delivery of a message in a distant quarter of the city. It was not till
+I had performed this commission, and had set out on my return, that I
+fully revolved the consequences likely to flow from my project.
+
+"That Thetford and his wife would detect you in their bedchamber was
+unquestionable. Perhaps, weary of my long delay, you would have fairly
+undressed and gone to bed. The married couple would have made
+preparation to follow you, and, when the curtain was undrawn, would
+discover a robust youth, fast asleep, in their place. These images,
+which had just before excited my laughter, now produced a very different
+emotion. I dreaded some fatal catastrophe from the fiery passions of
+Thetford. In the first transports of his fury he might pistol you, or,
+at least, might command you to be dragged to prison.
+
+"I now heartily repented of my jest, and hastened home, that I might
+prevent, as far as possible, the evil effects that might flow from it.
+The acknowledgment of my own agency in this affair would, at least,
+transfer Thetford's indignation to myself, to whom it was equitably due.
+
+"The married couple had retired to their chamber, and no alarm or
+confusion had followed. This was an inexplicable circumstance. I waited
+with impatience till the morning should furnish a solution of the
+difficulty. The morning arrived. A strange event had, indeed, taken
+place in their bedchamber. They found an infant asleep in their bed.
+Thetford had been roused twice in the night, once by a noise in the
+closet, and afterwards by a noise at the door.
+
+"Some connection between these sounds and the foundling was naturally
+suspected. In the morning the closet was examined, and a coarse pair of
+shoes was found on the floor. The chamber door, which Thetford had
+locked in the evening, was discovered to be open, as likewise a window
+in the kitchen.
+
+"These appearances were a source of wonder and doubt to others, but were
+perfectly intelligible to me. I rejoiced that my stratagem had no more
+dangerous consequence, and admired the ingenuity and perseverance with
+which you had extricated yourself from so critical a state."
+
+This narrative was only the verification of my own guesses. Its facts
+were quickly supplanted in my thoughts by the disastrous picture he had
+drawn of the state of the hospital. I was confounded and shocked by the
+magnitude of this evil. The cause of it was obvious. The wretches whom
+money could purchase were, of course, licentious and unprincipled.
+Superintended and controlled, they might be useful instruments; but that
+superintendence could not be bought.
+
+What qualities were requisite in the governor of such an institution? He
+must have zeal, diligence, and perseverance. He must act from lofty and
+pure motives. He must be mild and firm, intrepid and compliant. One
+perfectly qualified for the office it is desirable, but not possible,
+to find. A dispassionate and honest zeal in the cause of duty and
+humanity may be of eminent utility. Am I not endowed with this zeal?
+Cannot my feeble efforts obviate some portion of this evil?
+
+No one has hitherto claimed this disgustful and perilous situation. My
+powers and discernment are small, but if they be honestly exerted they
+cannot fail to be somewhat beneficial.
+
+The impulse produced by these reflections was to hasten to the City
+Hall, and make known my wishes. This impulse was controlled by
+recollections of my own indisposition, and of the state of Wallace. To
+deliver this youth to his friends was the strongest obligation. When
+this was discharged, I might return to the city, and acquit myself of
+more comprehensive duties.
+
+Wallace had now enjoyed a few hours' rest, and was persuaded to begin
+the journey. It was now noonday, and the sun darted insupportable rays.
+Wallace was more sensible than I of their unwholesome influence. We had
+not reached the suburbs, when his strength was wholly exhausted, and,
+had I not supported him, he would have sunk upon the pavement.
+
+My limbs were scarcely less weak, but my resolutions were much more
+strenuous than his. I made light of his indisposition, and endeavoured
+to persuade him that his vigour would return in proportion to his
+distance from the city. The moment we should reach a shade, a short
+respite would restore us to health and cheerfulness.
+
+Nothing could revive his courage or induce him to go on. To return or to
+proceed was equally impracticable. But, should he be able to return,
+where should he find a retreat? The danger of relapse was imminent; his
+own chamber at Thetford's was unoccupied. If he could regain this house,
+might I not procure him a physician and perform for him the part of
+nurse?
+
+His present situation was critical and mournful. To remain in the
+street, exposed to the malignant fervours of the sun, was not to be
+endured. To carry him in my arms exceeded my strength. Should I not
+claim the assistance of the first passenger that appeared?
+
+At that moment a horse and chaise passed us. The vehicle proceeded at a
+quick pace. He that rode in it might afford us the succour that we
+needed. He might be persuaded to deviate from his course and convey the
+helpless Wallace to the house we had just left.
+
+This thought instantly impelled me forward. Feeble as I was, I even ran
+with speed, in order to overtake the vehicle. My purpose was effected
+with the utmost difficulty. It fortunately happened that the carriage
+contained but one person, who stopped at my request. His countenance and
+guise was mild and encouraging.
+
+"Good friend," I exclaimed, "here is a young man too indisposed to walk.
+I want him carried to his lodgings. Will you, for money or for charity,
+allow him a place in your chaise, and set him down where I shall
+direct?" Observing tokens of hesitation, I continued, "You need have no
+fears to perform this office. He is not sick, but merely feeble. I will
+not ask twenty minutes, and you may ask what reward you think proper."
+
+Still he hesitated to comply. His business, he said, had not led him
+into the city. He merely passed along the skirts of it, whence he
+conceived that no danger would arise. He was desirous of helping the
+unfortunate; but he could not think of risking his own life in the cause
+of a stranger, when he had a wife and children depending on his
+existence and exertions for bread. It gave him pain to refuse, but he
+thought his duty to himself and to others required that he should not
+hazard his safety by compliance.
+
+This plea was irresistible. The mildness of his manner showed that he
+might have been overpowered by persuasion or tempted by reward. I would
+not take advantage of his tractability; but should have declined his
+assistance, even if it had been spontaneously offered. I turned away
+from him in silence, and prepared to return to the spot where I had left
+my friend. The man prepared to resume his way.
+
+In this perplexity, the thought occurred to me that, since this person
+was going into the country, he might, possibly, consent to carry Wallace
+along with him. I confided greatly in the salutary influence of rural
+airs. I believed that debility constituted the whole of his complaint;
+that continuance in the city might occasion his relapse, or, at least,
+procrastinate his restoration.
+
+I once more addressed myself to the traveller, and inquired in what
+direction and how far he was going. To my unspeakable satisfaction, his
+answer informed me that his home lay beyond Mr. Hadwin's, and that this
+road carried him directly past that gentleman's door. He was willing to
+receive Wallace into his chaise, and to leave him at his uncle's.
+
+This joyous and auspicious occurrence surpassed my fondest hopes. I
+hurried with the pleasing tidings to Wallace, who eagerly consented to
+enter the carriage. I thought not at the moment of myself, or how far
+the same means of escaping from my danger might be used. The stranger
+could not be anxious on my account; and Wallace's dejection and weakness
+may apologize for his not soliciting my company, or expressing his fears
+for my safety. He was no sooner seated, than the traveller hurried away.
+I gazed after them, motionless and mute, till the carriage, turning a
+corner, passed beyond my sight.
+
+I had now leisure to revert to my own condition, and to ruminate on that
+series of abrupt and diversified events that had happened during the few
+hours which had been passed in the city: the end of my coming was thus
+speedily and satisfactorily accomplished. My hopes and fears had rapidly
+fluctuated; but, respecting this young man, had now subsided into calm
+and propitious certainty. Before the decline of the sun, he would enter
+his paternal roof, and diffuse ineffable joy throughout that peaceful
+and chaste asylum.
+
+This contemplation, though rapturous and soothing, speedily gave way to
+reflections on the conduct which my duty required, and the safe
+departure of Wallace afforded me liberty, to pursue. To offer myself as
+a superintendent of the hospital was still my purpose. The languors of
+my frame might terminate in sickness, but this event it was useless to
+anticipate. The lofty site and pure airs of Bush Hill might tend to
+dissipate my languors and restore me to health. At least while I had
+power, I was bound to exert it to the wisest purposes. I resolved to
+seek the City Hall immediately, and, for that end, crossed the
+intermediate fields which separated Sassafras from Chestnut Street.
+
+More urgent considerations had diverted my attention from the money
+which I bore about me, and from the image of the desolate lady to whom
+it belonged. My intentions, with regard to her, were the same as ever;
+but now it occurred to me, with new force, that my death might preclude
+an interview between us, and that it was prudent to dispose, in some
+useful way, of the money which would otherwise be left to the sport of
+chance.
+
+The evils which had befallen this city were obvious and enormous. Hunger
+and negligence had exasperated the malignity and facilitated the
+progress of the pestilence. Could this money be more usefully employed
+than in alleviating these evils? During my life, I had no power over it,
+but my death would justify me in prescribing the course which it should
+take.
+
+How was this course to be pointed out? How might I place it, so that I
+should effect my intentions without relinquishing the possession during
+my life?
+
+These thoughts were superseded by a tide of new sensations. The weight
+that incommoded my brows and my stomach was suddenly increased. My brain
+was usurped by some benumbing power, and my limbs refused to support me.
+My pulsations were quickened, and the prevalence of fever could no
+longer be doubted.
+
+Till now, I had entertained a faint hope that my indisposition would
+vanish of itself. This hope was at an end. The grave was before me, and
+my projects of curiosity or benevolence were to sink into oblivion. I
+was not bereaved of the powers of reflection. The consequences of lying
+in the road, friendless and unprotected, were sure. The first passenger
+would notice me, and hasten to summon one of those carriages which are
+busy night and day in transporting its victims to the hospital.
+
+This fate was, beyond all others, abhorrent to my imagination. To hide
+me under some roof, where my existence would be unknown and unsuspected,
+and where I might perish unmolested and in quiet, was my present wish.
+Thetford's or Medlicote's might afford me such an asylum, if it were
+possible to reach it.
+
+I made the most strenuous exertions; but they could not carry me forward
+more than a hundred paces. Here I rested on steps, which, on looking up,
+I perceived to belong to Welbeck's house.
+
+This incident was unexpected. It led my reflections into a new train. To
+go farther, in the present condition of my frame, was impossible. I was
+well acquainted with this dwelling. All its avenues were closed. Whether
+it had remained unoccupied since my flight from it, I could not decide.
+It was evident that, at present, it was without inhabitants. Possibly it
+might have continued in the same condition in which Welbeck had left it.
+Beds or sofas might be found, on which a sick man might rest, and be
+fearless of intrusion.
+
+This inference was quickly overturned by the obvious supposition that
+every avenue was bolted and locked. This, however, might not be the
+condition of the bath-house, in which there was nothing that required to
+be guarded with unusual precautions. I was suffocated by inward and
+scorched by external heat; and the relief of bathing and drinking
+appeared inestimable.
+
+The value of this prize, in addition to my desire to avoid the
+observation of passengers, made me exert all my remnant of strength.
+Repeated efforts at length enabled me to mount the wall; and placed me,
+as I imagined, in security. I swallowed large draughts of water as soon
+as I could reach the well.
+
+The effect was, for a time, salutary and delicious. My fervours were
+abated, and my faculties relieved from the weight which had lately
+oppressed them. My present condition was unspeakably more advantageous
+than the former. I did not believe that it could be improved, till,
+casting my eye vaguely over the building, I happened to observe the
+shutters of a lower window partly opened.
+
+Whether this was occasioned by design or by accident there was no means
+of deciding. Perhaps, in the precipitation of the latest possessor, this
+window had been overlooked. Perhaps it had been unclosed by violence,
+and afforded entrance to a robber. By what means soever it had
+happened, it undoubtedly afforded ingress to me. I felt no scruple in
+profiting by this circumstance. My purposes were not dishonest. I should
+not injure or purloin any thing. It was laudable to seek a refuge from
+the well-meant persecutions of those who governed the city. All I sought
+was the privilege of dying alone.
+
+Having gotten in at the window, I could not but remark that the
+furniture and its arrangements had undergone no alteration in my
+absence. I moved softly from one apartment to another, till at length I
+entered that which had formerly been Welbeck's bedchamber.
+
+The bed was naked of covering. The cabinets and closets exhibited their
+fastenings broken. Their contents were gone. Whether these appearances
+had been produced by midnight robbers, or by the ministers of law and
+the rage of the creditors of Welbeck, was a topic of fruitless
+conjecture.
+
+My design was now effected. This chamber should be the scene of my
+disease and my refuge from the charitable cruelty of my neighbours. My
+new sensations conjured up the hope that my indisposition might prove a
+temporary evil. Instead of pestilential or malignant fever, it might be
+a harmless intermittent. Time would ascertain its true nature;
+meanwhile, I would turn the carpet into a coverlet, supply my pitcher
+with water, and administer without sparing, and without fear, that
+remedy which was placed within my reach.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+
+I laid myself on the bed and wrapped my limbs in the folds of the
+carpet. My thoughts were restless and perturbed. I was once more busy in
+reflecting on the conduct which I ought to pursue with regard to the
+bank-bills. I weighed, with scrupulous attention, every circumstance
+that might influence my decision. I could not conceive any more
+beneficial application of this property than to the service of the
+indigent, at this season of multiplied distress; but I considered that,
+if my death were unknown, the house would not be opened or examined till
+the pestilence had ceased, and the benefits of this application would
+thus be partly or wholly precluded.
+
+This season of disease, however, would give place to a season of
+scarcity. The number and wants of the poor, during the ensuing winter,
+would be deplorably aggravated. What multitudes might be rescued from
+famine and nakedness by the judicious application of this sum!
+
+But how should I secure this application? To enclose the bills in a
+letter, directed to some eminent citizen or public officer, was the
+obvious proceeding. Both of these conditions were fulfilled in the
+person of the present chief-magistrate. To him, therefore, the packet
+was to be sent.
+
+Paper and the implements of writing were necessary for this end. Would
+they be found, I asked, in the upper room? If that apartment, like the
+rest which I had seen, and its furniture, had remained untouched, my
+task would be practicable; but, if the means of writing were not to be
+immediately procured, my purpose, momentous and dear as it was, must be
+relinquished.
+
+The truth, in this respect, was easily and ought immediately to be
+ascertained. I rose from the bed which I had lately taken, and proceeded
+to the _study_. The entries and staircases were illuminated by a pretty
+strong twilight. The rooms, in consequence of every ray being excluded
+by the closed shutters, were nearly as dark as if it had been midnight.
+The rooms into which I had already passed were locked, but its key was
+in each lock. I flattered myself that the entrance into the _study_
+would be found in the same condition. The door was shut, but no key was
+to be seen. My hopes were considerably damped by this appearance, but I
+conceived it to be still possible to enter, since, by chance or by
+design, the door might be unlocked.
+
+My fingers touched the lock, when a sound was heard as if a bolt,
+appending to the door on the inside, had been drawn. I was startled by
+this incident. It betokened that the room was already occupied by some
+other, who desired to exclude a visitor. The unbarred shutter below was
+remembered, and associated itself with this circumstance. That this
+house should be entered by the same avenue, at the same time, and this
+room should be sought, by two persons, was a mysterious concurrence.
+
+I began to question whether I had heard distinctly. Numberless
+inexplicable noises are apt to assail the ear in an empty dwelling. The
+very echoes of our steps are unwonted and new. This, perhaps, was some
+such sound. Resuming courage, I once more applied to the lock. The door,
+in spite of my repeated efforts, would not open.
+
+My design was too momentous to be readily relinquished. My curiosity and
+my fears likewise were awakened. The marks of violence, which I had seen
+on the closets and cabinets below, seemed to indicate the presence of
+plunderers. Here was one who laboured for seclusion and concealment.
+
+The pillage was not made upon my property. My weakness would disable me
+from encountering or mastering a man of violence. To solicit admission
+into this room would be useless. To attempt to force my way would be
+absurd. These reflections prompted me to withdraw from the door; but the
+uncertainty of the conclusions I had drawn, and the importance of
+gaining access to this apartment, combined to check my steps.
+
+Perplexed as to the means I should employ, I once more tried the lock.
+The attempt was fruitless as the former. Though hopeless of any
+information to be gained by that means, I put my eye to the keyhole. I
+discovered a light different from what was usually met with at this
+hour. It was not the twilight which the sun, imperfectly excluded,
+produces, but gleams, as from a lamp; yet its gleams were fainter and
+obscurer than a lamp generally imparts.
+
+Was this a confirmation of my first conjecture? Lamplight at noonday, in
+a mansion thus deserted, and in a room which had been the scene of
+memorable and disastrous events, was ominous. Hitherto no direct proof
+had been given of the presence of a human being. How to ascertain his
+presence, or whether it were eligible by any means to ascertain it, were
+points on which I had not deliberated.
+
+I had no power to deliberate. My curiosity impelled me to call,--"Is
+there any one within? Speak."
+
+These words were scarcely uttered, when some one exclaimed, in a voice
+vehement but half-smothered, "Good God!"--
+
+A deep pause succeeded. I waited for an answer; for somewhat to which
+this emphatic invocation might be a prelude. Whether the tones were
+expressive of surprise, or pain, or grief, was, for a moment, dubious.
+Perhaps the motives which led me to this house suggested the suspicion
+which presently succeeded to my doubts,--that the person within was
+disabled by sickness. The circumstances of my own condition took away
+the improbability from this belief. Why might not another be induced
+like me to hide himself in this desolate retreat? Might not a servant,
+left to take care of the house, a measure usually adopted by the opulent
+at this time, be seized by the reigning malady? Incapacitated for
+exertion, or fearing to be dragged to the hospital, he has shut himself
+in this apartment. The robber, it may be, who came to pillage, was
+overtaken and detained by disease. In either case, detection or
+intrusion would be hateful, and would be assiduously eluded.
+
+These thoughts had no tendency to weaken or divert my efforts to obtain
+access to this room. The person was a brother in calamity, whom it was
+my duty to succour and cherish to the utmost of my power. Once more I
+spoke:--
+
+"Who is within? I beseech you answer me. Whatever you be, I desire to do
+you good and not injury. Open the door and let me know your condition. I
+will try to be of use to you."
+
+I was answered by a deep groan, and by a sob counteracted and devoured
+as it were by a mighty effort. This token of distress thrilled to my
+heart. My terrors wholly disappeared, and gave place to unlimited
+compassion. I again entreated to be admitted, promising all the succour
+or consolation which my situation allowed me to afford.
+
+Answers were made in tones of anger and impatience, blended with those
+of grief:--"I want no succour; vex me not with your entreaties and
+offers. Fly from this spot; linger not a moment, lest you participate my
+destiny and rush upon your death."
+
+These I considered merely as the effusions of delirium, or the dictates
+of despair. The style and articulation denoted the speaker to be
+superior to the class of servants. Hence my anxiety to see and to aid
+him was increased. My remonstrances were sternly and pertinaciously
+repelled. For a time, incoherent and impassioned exclamations flowed
+from him. At length, I was only permitted to hear strong aspirations and
+sobs, more eloquent and more indicative of grief than any language.
+
+This deportment filled me with no less wonder than commiseration. By
+what views this person was led hither, by what motives induced to deny
+himself to my entreaties, was wholly incomprehensible. Again, though
+hopeless of success, I repeated my request to be admitted.
+
+My perseverance seemed now to have exhausted all his patience, and he
+exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, "Arthur Mervyn! Begone. Linger but a
+moment, and my rage, tiger-like, will rush upon you and rend you limb
+from limb."
+
+This address petrified me. The voice that uttered this sanguinary menace
+was strange to my ears. It suggested no suspicion of ever having heard
+it before. Yet my accents had betrayed me to him. He was familiar with
+my name. Notwithstanding the improbability of my entrance into this
+dwelling, I was clearly recognized and unhesitatingly named!
+
+My curiosity and compassion were in no wise diminished, but I found
+myself compelled to give up my purpose. I withdrew reluctantly from the
+door, and once more threw myself upon my bed. Nothing was more
+necessary, in the present condition of my frame; than sleep; and sleep
+had, perhaps, been possible, if the scene around me had been less
+pregnant with causes of wonder and panic.
+
+Once more I tasked memory in order to discover, in the persons with whom
+I had hitherto conversed, some resemblance, in voice or tones, to him
+whom I had just heard. This process was effectual. Gradually my
+imagination called up an image which, now that it was clearly seen, I
+was astonished had not instantly occurred. Three years ago, a man, by
+name Colvill, came on foot, and with a knapsack on his back, into the
+district where my father resided. He had learning and genius, and
+readily obtained the station for which only he deemed himself qualified;
+that of a schoolmaster.
+
+His demeanour was gentle and modest; his habits, as to sleep, food, and
+exercise, abstemious and regular. Meditation in the forest, or reading
+in his closet, seemed to constitute, together with attention to his
+scholars, his sole amusement and employment. He estranged himself from
+company, not because society afforded no pleasure, but because studious
+seclusion afforded him chief satisfaction.
+
+No one was more idolized by his unsuspecting neighbours. His scholars
+revered him as a father, and made under his tuition a remarkable
+proficiency. His character seemed open to boundless inspection, and his
+conduct was pronounced by all to be faultless.
+
+At the end of a year the scene was changed. A daughter of one of his
+patrons, young, artless, and beautiful, appeared to have fallen a prey
+to the arts of some detestable seducer. The betrayer was gradually
+detected, and successive discoveries showed that the same artifices had
+been practised, with the same success, upon many others. Colvill was the
+arch-villain. He retired from the storm of vengeance that was gathering
+over him, and had not been heard of since that period.
+
+I saw him rarely, and for a short time, and I was a mere boy. Hence the
+failure to recollect his voice, and to perceive that the voice of him
+immured in the room above was the same with that of Colvill. Though I
+had slight reasons for recognising his features or accents, I had
+abundant cause to think of him with detestation, and pursue him with
+implacable revenge, for the victim of his acts, she whose ruin was first
+detected, was--_my sister_.
+
+This unhappy girl escaped from the upbraidings of her parents, from the
+contumelies of the world, from the goadings of remorse, and the anguish
+flowing from the perfidy and desertion of Colvill, in a voluntary death.
+She was innocent and lovely. Previous to this evil, my soul was linked
+with hers by a thousand resemblances and sympathies, as well as by
+perpetual intercourse from infancy, and by the fraternal relation. She
+was my sister, my preceptress and friend; but she died--her end was
+violent, untimely, and criminal! I cannot think of her without
+heart-bursting grief; of her destroyer, without a rancour which I know
+to be wrong, but which I cannot subdue.
+
+When the image of Colvill rushed, upon this occasion, on my thought, I
+almost started on my feet. To meet him, after so long a separation,
+here, and in these circumstances, was so unlooked-for and abrupt an
+event, and revived a tribe of such hateful impulses and agonizing
+recollections, that a total revolution seemed to have been effected in
+my frame. His recognition of my person, his aversion to be seen, his
+ejaculation of terror and surprise on first hearing my voice, all
+contributed to strengthen my belief.
+
+How was I to act? My feeble frame could but ill second my vengeful
+purposes; but vengeance, though it sometimes occupied my thoughts, was
+hindered by my reason from leading me, in any instance, to outrage or
+even to upbraiding.
+
+All my wishes with regard to this man were limited to expelling his
+image from my memory, and to shunning a meeting with him. That he had
+not opened the door at my bidding was now a topic of joy. To look upon
+some bottomless pit, into which I was about to be cast headlong, and
+alive, was less to be abhorred than to look upon the face of Colvill.
+Had I known that he had taken refuge in this house, no power should have
+compelled me to enter it. To be immersed in the infection of the
+hospital, and to be hurried, yet breathing and observant, to my grave,
+was a more supportable fate.
+
+I dwell, with self-condemnation and shame, upon this part of my story.
+To feel extraordinary indignation at vice, merely because we have
+partaken in an extraordinary degree of its mischiefs, is unjustifiable.
+To regard the wicked with no emotion but pity, to be active in
+reclaiming them, in controlling their malevolence, and preventing or
+repairing the ills which they produce, is the only province of duty.
+This lesson, as well as a thousand others, I have yet to learn; but I
+despair of living long enough for that or any beneficial purpose.
+
+My emotions with regard to Colvill were erroneous, but omnipotent. I
+started from my bed, and prepared to rush into the street. I was
+careless of the lot that should befall me, since no fate could be worse
+than that of abiding under the same roof with a wretch spotted with so
+many crimes.
+
+I had not set my feet upon the floor before my precipitation was checked
+by a sound from above. The door of the study was cautiously and slowly
+opened. This incident admitted only of one construction, supposing all
+obstructions removed. Colvill was creeping from his hiding-place, and
+would probably fly with speed from the house. My belief of his sickness
+was now confuted. An illicit design was congenial with his character
+and congruous with those appearances already observed.
+
+I had no power or wish to obstruct his flight. I thought of it with
+transport, and once more threw myself upon the bed, and wrapped my
+averted face in the carpet. He would probably pass this door,
+unobservant of me, and my muffled face would save me from the agonies
+connected with the sight of him.
+
+The footsteps above were distinguishable, though it was manifest that
+they moved with lightsomeness and circumspection. They reached the stair
+and descended. The room in which I lay was, like the rest, obscured by
+the closed shutters. This obscurity now gave way to a light, resembling
+that glimmering and pale reflection which I had noticed in the study. My
+eyes, though averted from the door, were disengaged from the folds which
+covered the rest of my head, and observed these tokens of Colvill's
+approach, flitting on the wall.
+
+My feverish perturbations increased as he drew nearer. He reached the
+door, and stopped. The light rested for a moment. Presently he entered
+the apartment. My emotions suddenly rose to a height that would not be
+controlled. I imagined that he approached the bed, and was gazing upon
+me. At the same moment, by an involuntary impulse, I threw off my
+covering, and, turning my face, fixed my eyes upon my visitant.
+
+It was as I suspected. The figure, lifting in his right hand a candle,
+and gazing at the bed, with lineaments and attitude bespeaking fearful
+expectation and tormenting doubts, was now beheld. One glance
+communicated to my senses all the parts of this terrific vision. A
+sinking at my heart, as if it had been penetrated by a dagger, seized
+me. This was not enough: I uttered a shriek, too rueful and loud not to
+have startled the attention of the passengers, if any had, at that
+moment, been passing the street.
+
+Heaven seemed to have decreed that this period should be filled with
+trials of my equanimity and fortitude. The test of my courage was once
+more employed to cover me with humiliation and remorse. This second
+time, my fancy conjured up a spectre, and I shuddered as if the grave
+were forsaken and the unquiet dead haunted my pillow.
+
+The visage and the shape had indeed preternatural attitudes, but they
+belonged, not to Colvill, but to--WELBECK.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+
+He whom I had accompanied to the midst of the river; whom I had imagined
+that I saw sink to rise no more, was now before me. Though incapable of
+precluding the groundless belief of preternatural visitations, I was
+able to banish the phantom almost at the same instant at which it
+appeared. Welbeck had escaped from the stream alive; or had, by some
+inconceivable means, been restored to life.
+
+The first was the most plausible conclusion. It instantly engendered a
+suspicion, that his plunging into the water was an artifice, intended to
+establish a belief of his death. His own tale had shown him to be versed
+in frauds, and flexible to evil. But was he not associated with Colvill?
+and what, but a compact in iniquity, could bind together such men?
+
+While thus musing, Welbeck's countenance and gesture displayed emotions
+too vehement for speech. The glances that he fixed upon me were
+unsteadfast and wild. He walked along the floor, stopping at each
+moment, and darting looks of eagerness upon me. A conflict of passions
+kept him mute. At length, advancing to the bed, on the side of which I
+was now sitting, he addressed me:--
+
+"What is this? Are you here? In defiance of pestilence, are you actuated
+by some demon to haunt me, like the ghost of my offences, and cover me
+with shame? What have I to do with that dauntless yet guiltless front?
+With that foolishly-confiding and obsequious, yet erect and
+unconquerable, spirit? Is there no means of evading your pursuit? Must I
+dip my hands, a second time, in blood; and dig for you a grave by the
+side of Watson?"
+
+These words were listened to with calmness. I suspected and pitied the
+man, but I did not fear him. His words and his looks were indicative
+less of cruelty than madness. I looked at him with an air compassionate
+and wistful. I spoke with mildness and composure:--
+
+"Mr. Welbeck, you are unfortunate and criminal. Would to God I could
+restore you to happiness and virtue! but, though my desire be strong, I
+have no power to change your habits or rescue you from misery.
+
+"I believed you to be dead. I rejoice to find myself mistaken. While you
+live, there is room to hope that your errors will be cured; and the
+turmoils and inquietudes that have hitherto beset your guilty progress
+will vanish by your reverting into better paths.
+
+"From me you have nothing to fear. If your welfare will be promoted by
+my silence on the subject of your history, my silence shall be
+inviolate. I deem not lightly of my promises. They are given, and shall
+not be recalled.
+
+"This meeting was casual. Since I believed you to be dead, it could not
+be otherwise. You err, if you suppose that any injury will accrue to you
+from my life; but you need not discard that error. Since my death is
+coming, I am not averse to your adopting the belief that the event is
+fortunate to you.
+
+"Death is the inevitable and universal lot. When or how it comes, is of
+little moment. To stand, when so many thousands are falling around me,
+is not to be expected. I have acted an humble and obscure part in the
+world, and my career has been short; but I murmur not at the decree that
+makes it so.
+
+"The pestilence is now upon me. The chances of recovery are too slender
+to deserve my confidence. I came hither to die unmolested, and at peace.
+All I ask of you is to consult your own safety by immediate flight; and
+not to disappoint my hopes of concealment, by disclosing my condition to
+the agents of the hospital."
+
+Welbeck listened with the deepest attention. The wildness of his air
+disappeared, and gave place to perplexity and apprehension.
+
+"You are sick," said he, in a tremulous tone, in which terror was
+mingled with affection. "You know this, and expect not to recover. No
+mother, nor sister, nor friend, will be near to administer food, or
+medicine, or comfort; yet you can talk calmly; can be thus considerate
+of others--of me; whose guilt has been so deep, and who has merited so
+little at your hands!
+
+"Wretched coward! Thus miserable as I am and expect to be, I cling to
+life. To comply with your heroic counsel, and to fly; to leave you thus
+desolate and helpless, is the strongest impulse. Fain would I resist it,
+but cannot.
+
+"To desert you would be flagitious and dastardly beyond all former acts;
+yet to stay with you is to contract the disease, and to perish after
+you.
+
+"Life, burdened as it is with guilt and ignominy, is still dear--yet you
+exhort me to go; you dispense with my assistance. Indeed, I could be of
+no use; I should injure myself and profit you nothing. I cannot go into
+the city and procure a physician or attendant. I must never more appear
+in the streets of this city. I must leave you, then." He hurried to the
+door. Again, he hesitated. I renewed my entreaties that he would leave
+me; and encouraged his belief that his presence might endanger himself
+without conferring the slightest benefit upon me.
+
+"Whither should I fly? The wide world contains no asylum for me. I lived
+but on one condition. I came hither to find what would save me from
+ruin,--from death. I find it not. It has vanished. Some audacious and
+fortunate hand has snatched it from its place, and now my ruin is
+complete. My last hope is extinct.
+
+"Yes, Mervyn! I will stay with you. I will hold your head. I will put
+water to your lips. I will watch night and day by your side. When you
+die, I will carry you by night to the neighbouring field; will bury you,
+and water your grave with those tears that are due to your incomparable
+worth and untimely destiny. Then I will lay myself in your bed, and wait
+for the same oblivion."
+
+Welbeck seemed now no longer to be fluctuating between opposite
+purposes. His tempestuous features subsided into calm. He put the
+candle, still lighted, on the table, and paced the floor with less
+disorder than at his first entrance.
+
+His resolution was seen to be the dictate of despair. I hoped that it
+would not prove invincible to my remonstrances. I was conscious that his
+attendance might preclude, in some degree, my own exertions, and
+alleviate the pangs of death; but these consolations might be purchased
+too dear. To receive them at the hazard of his life would be to make
+them odious.
+
+But, if he should remain, what conduct would his companion pursue? Why
+did he continue in the study when Welbeck had departed? By what motives
+were those men led hither? I addressed myself to Welbeck:--
+
+"Your resolution to remain is hasty and rash. By persisting in it, you
+will add to the miseries of my condition; you will take away the only
+hope that I cherished. But, however you may act, Colvill or I must be
+banished from this roof. What is the league between you? Break it, I
+conjure you, before his frauds have involved you in inextricable
+destruction."
+
+Welbeck looked at me with some expression of doubt.
+
+"I mean," continued I, "the man whose voice I heard above. He is a
+villain and betrayer. I have manifold proofs of his guilt. Why does he
+linger behind you? However you may decide, it is fitting that he should
+vanish."
+
+"Alas!" said Welbeck, "I have no companion, none to partake with me in
+good or evil. I came hither alone."
+
+"How?" exclaimed I. "Whom did I hear in the room above? Some one
+answered my interrogations and entreaties, whom I too certainly
+recognised. Why does he remain?"
+
+"You heard no one but myself. The design that brought me hither was to
+be accomplished without a witness. I desired to escape detection, and
+repelled your solicitations for admission in a counterfeited voice.
+
+"That voice belonged to one from whom I had lately parted. What his
+merits or demerits are, I know not. He found me wandering in the forests
+of New Jersey. He took me to his home. When seized by a lingering
+malady, he nursed me with fidelity and tenderness. When somewhat
+recovered, I speeded hither; but our ignorance of each other's character
+and views was mutual and profound.
+
+"I deemed it useful to assume a voice different from my own. This was
+the last which I had heard, and this arbitrary and casual circumstance
+decided my choice."
+
+This imitation was too perfect, and had influenced my fears too
+strongly, to be easily credited. I suspected Welbeck of some new
+artifice to baffle my conclusions and mislead my judgment. This
+suspicion, however, yielded to his earnest and repeated declarations. If
+Colvill were not here, where had he made his abode? How came friendship
+and intercourse between Welbeck and him? By what miracle escaped the
+former from the river, into which I had imagined him forever sunk?
+
+"I will answer you," said he, with candour. "You know already too much
+for me to have any interest in concealing any part of my life. You have
+discovered my existence, and the causes that rescued me from destruction
+may be told without detriment to my person or fame.
+
+"When I leaped into the river, I intended to perish. I harboured no
+previous doubts of my ability to execute my fatal purpose. In this
+respect I was deceived. Suffocation would not come at my bidding. My
+muscles and limbs rebelled against my will. There was a mechanical
+repugnance to the loss of life, which I could not vanquish. My struggles
+might thrust me below the surface, but my lips were spontaneously shut,
+and excluded the torrent from my lungs. When my breath was exhausted,
+the efforts that kept me at the bottom were involuntarily remitted, and
+I rose to the surface.
+
+"I cursed my own pusillanimity. Thrice I plunged to the bottom, and as
+often rose again. My aversion to life swiftly diminished, and at length
+I consented to make use of my skill in swimming, which has seldom been
+exceeded, to prolong my existence. I landed in a few minutes on the
+Jersey shore.
+
+"This scheme being frustrated, I sunk into dreariness and inactivity. I
+felt as if no dependence could be placed upon my courage, as if any
+effort I should make for self-destruction would be fruitless; yet
+existence was as void as ever of enjoyment and embellishment. My means
+of living were annihilated. I saw no path before me. To shun the
+presence of mankind was my sovereign wish. Since I could not die by my
+own hands, I must be content to crawl upon the surface, till a superior
+fate should permit me to perish.
+
+"I wandered into the centre of the wood. I stretched myself on the mossy
+verge of a brook, and gazed at the stars till they disappeared. The next
+day was spent with little variation. The cravings of hunger were felt,
+and the sensation was a joyous one, since it afforded me the practicable
+means of death. To refrain from food was easy, since some efforts would
+be needful to procure it, and these efforts should not be made. Thus was
+the sweet oblivion for which I so earnestly panted placed within my
+reach.
+
+"Three days of abstinence, and reverie, and solitude, succeeded. On the
+evening of the fourth, I was seated on a rock, with my face buried in my
+hands. Some one laid his hand upon my shoulder. I started and looked up.
+I beheld a face beaming with compassion and benignity. He endeavoured to
+extort from me the cause of my solitude and sorrow. I disregarded his
+entreaties, and was obstinately silent.
+
+"Finding me invincible in this respect, he invited me to his cottage,
+which was hard by. I repelled him at first with impatience and anger,
+but he was not to be discouraged or intimidated. To elude his
+persuasions I was obliged to comply. My strength was gone, and the vital
+fabric was crumbling into pieces. A fever raged in my veins, and I was
+consoled by reflecting that my life was at once assailed by famine and
+disease.
+
+"Meanwhile, my gloomy meditations experienced no respite. I incessantly
+ruminated on the events of my past life. The long series of my crimes
+arose daily and afresh to my imagination. The image of Lodi was
+recalled, his expiring looks and the directions which were mutually
+given respecting his sister's and his property.
+
+"As I perpetually revolved these incidents, they assumed new forms, and
+were linked with new associations. The volume written by his father, and
+transferred to me by tokens which were now remembered to be more
+emphatic than the nature of the composition seemed to justify, was
+likewise remembered. It came attended by recollections respecting a
+volume which I filled, when a youth, with extracts from the Roman and
+Greek poets. Besides this literary purpose, I likewise used to preserve
+in it the bank-bills with the keeping or carriage of which I chanced to
+be entrusted. This image led me back to the leather case containing
+Lodi's property, which was put into my hands at the same time with the
+volume.
+
+"These images now gave birth to a third conception, which darted on my
+benighted understanding like an electrical flash. Was it not possible
+that part of Lodi's property might be enclosed within the leaves of this
+volume? In hastily turning it over, I recollected to have noticed leaves
+whose edges by accident or design adhered to each other. Lodi, in
+speaking of the sale of his father's West-India property, mentioned that
+the sum obtained for it was forty thousand dollars. Half only of this
+sum had been discovered by me. How had the remainder been appropriated?
+Surely this volume contained it.
+
+"The influence of this thought was like the infusion of a new soul into
+my frame. From torpid and desperate, from inflexible aversion to
+medicine and food, I was changed in a moment into vivacity and hope,
+into ravenous avidity for whatever could contribute to my restoration to
+health.
+
+"I was not without pungent regrets and racking fears. That this volume
+would be ravished away by creditors or plunderers was possible. Every
+hour might be that which decided my fate. The first impulse was to seek
+my dwelling and search for this precious deposit.
+
+"Meanwhile, my perturbations and impatience only exasperated my disease.
+While chained to my bed, the rumour of pestilence was spread abroad.
+This event, however, generally calamitous, was propitious to me, and was
+hailed with satisfaction. It multiplied the chances that my house and
+its furniture would be unmolested.
+
+"My friend was assiduous and indefatigable in his kindness. My
+deportment, before and subsequent to the revival of my hopes, was
+incomprehensible, and argued nothing less than insanity. My thoughts
+were carefully concealed from him, and all that he witnessed was
+contradictory and unintelligible.
+
+"At length, my strength was sufficiently restored. I resisted all my
+protector's importunities to postpone my departure till the perfect
+confirmation of my health. I designed to enter the city at midnight,
+that prying eyes might be eluded; to bear with me a candle and the means
+of lighting it, to explore my way to my ancient study, and to ascertain
+my future claim to existence and felicity.
+
+"I crossed the river this morning. My impatience would not suffer me to
+wait till evening. Considering the desolation of the city, I thought I
+might venture to approach thus near, without hazard of detection. The
+house, at all its avenues, was closed. I stole into the back court. A
+window-shutter proved to be unfastened. I entered, and discovered
+closets and cabinets unfastened and emptied of all their contents. At
+this spectacle my heart sunk. My books, doubtless, had shared the common
+destiny. My blood throbbed with painful vehemence as I approached the
+study and opened the door.
+
+"My hopes, that languished for a moment, were revived by the sight of my
+shelves, furnished as formerly. I had lighted my candle below, for I
+desired not to awaken observation and suspicion by unclosing the
+windows. My eye eagerly sought the spot where I remembered to have left
+the volume. Its place was empty. The object of all my hopes had eluded
+my grasp, and disappeared forever.
+
+"To paint my confusion, to repeat my execrations on the infatuation
+which had rendered, during so long a time that it was in my possession,
+this treasure useless to me, and my curses of the fatal interference
+which had snatched away the prize, would be only aggravations of my
+disappointment and my sorrow. You found me in this state, and know what
+followed."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+
+This narrative threw new light on the character of Welbeck. If accident
+had given him possession of this treasure, it was easy to predict on
+what schemes of luxury and selfishness it would have been expended. The
+same dependence on the world's erroneous estimation, the same devotion
+to imposture, and thoughtlessness of futurity, would have constituted
+the picture of his future life, as had distinguished the past.
+
+This money was another's. To retain it for his own use was criminal. Of
+this crime he appeared to be as insensible as ever. His own
+gratification was the supreme law of his actions. To be subjected to the
+necessity of honest labour was the heaviest of all evils, and one from
+which he was willing to escape by the commission of suicide.
+
+The volume which he sought was mine. It was my duty to restore it to the
+rightful owner, or, if the legal claimant could not be found, to employ
+it in the promotion of virtue and happiness. To give it to Welbeck was
+to consecrate it to the purpose of selfishness and misery. My right,
+legally considered, was as valid as his.
+
+But, if I intended not to resign it to him, was it proper to disclose
+the truth and explain by whom the volume was purloined from the shelf?
+The first impulse was to hide this truth; but my understanding had been
+taught, by recent occurrences, to question the justice and deny the
+usefulness of secrecy in any case. My principles were true; my motives
+were pure: why should I scruple to avow my principles and vindicate my
+actions?
+
+Welbeck had ceased to be dreaded or revered. That awe which was once
+created by his superiority of age, refinement of manners, and dignity
+of garb, had vanished. I was a boy in years, an indigent and uneducated
+rustic; but I was able to discern the illusions of power and riches, and
+abjured every claim to esteem that was not founded on integrity. There
+was no tribunal before which I should falter in asserting the truth, and
+no species of martyrdom which I would not cheerfully embrace in its
+cause.
+
+After some pause, I said, "Cannot you conjecture in what way this volume
+has disappeared?"
+
+"No," he answered, with a sigh. "Why, of all his volumes, this only
+should have vanished, was an inexplicable enigma."
+
+"Perhaps," said I, "it is less important to know how it was removed,
+than by whom it is now possessed."
+
+"Unquestionably; and yet, unless that knowledge enables me to regain the
+possession, it will be useless."
+
+"Useless then it will be, for the present possessor will never return it
+to you."
+
+"Indeed," replied he, in a tone of dejection, "your conjecture is most
+probable. Such a prize is of too much value to be given up."
+
+"What I have said flows not from conjecture, but from knowledge. I know
+that it will never be restored to you."
+
+At these words, Welbeck looked at me with anxiety and doubt:--"You
+_know_ that it will not! Have you any knowledge of the book? Can you
+tell me what has become of it?"
+
+"Yes. After our separation on the river, I returned to this house. I
+found this volume and secured it. You rightly suspected its contents.
+The money was there."
+
+Welbeck started as if he had trodden on a mine of gold. His first
+emotion was rapturous, but was immediately chastened by some degree of
+doubt:--"What has become of it? Have you got it? Is it entire? Have you
+it with you?"
+
+"It is unimpaired. I have got it, and shall hold it as a sacred trust
+for the rightful proprietor."
+
+The tone with which this declaration was accompanied shook the new-born
+confidence of Welbeck. "The rightful proprietor! true, but I am he. To
+me only it belongs, and to me you are, doubtless, willing to restore
+it."
+
+"Mr. Welbeck! It is not my desire to give you perplexity or anguish; to
+sport with your passions. On the supposition of your death, I deemed it
+no infraction of justice to take this manuscript. Accident unfolded its
+contents. I could not hesitate to choose my path. The natural and legal
+successor of Vincentio Lodi is his sister. To her, therefore, this
+property belongs, and to her only will I give it."
+
+"Presumptuous boy! And this is your sage decision. I tell you that I am
+the owner, and to me you shall render it. Who is this girl? Childish and
+ignorant! Unable to consult and to act for herself on the most trivial
+occasion. Am I not, by the appointment of her dying brother, her
+protector and guardian? Her age produces a legal incapacity of property.
+Do you imagine that so obvious an expedient as that of procuring my
+legal appointment as her guardian was overlooked by me? If it were
+neglected, still my title to provide her subsistence and enjoyment is
+unquestionable.
+
+"Did I not rescue her from poverty, and prostitution, and infamy? Have I
+not supplied all her wants with incessant solicitude? Whatever her
+condition required has been plenteously supplied. The dwelling and its
+furniture was hers, as far a rigid jurisprudence would permit. To
+prescribe her expenses and govern her family was the province of her
+guardian.
+
+"You have heard the tale of my anguish and despair. Whence did they flow
+but from the frustration of schemes projected for her benefit, as they
+were executed with her money and by means which the authority of her
+guardian fully justified? Why have I encountered this contagious
+atmosphere, and explored my way, like a thief, to this recess, but with
+a view to rescue her from poverty and restore to her her own?
+
+"Your scruples are ridiculous and criminal. I treat them with less
+severity, because your youth is raw and your conceptions crude. But if,
+after this proof of the justice of my claim, you hesitate to restore the
+money, I shall treat you as a robber, who has plundered my cabinet and
+refused to refund his spoil."
+
+These reasonings were powerful and new. I was acquainted with the rights
+of guardianship. Welbeck had, in some respects, acted as the friend of
+this lady. To vest himself with this office was the conduct which her
+youth and helplessness prescribed to her friend. His title to this
+money, as her guardian, could not be denied.
+
+But how was this statement compatible with former representations? No
+mention had then been made of guardianship. By thus acting, he would
+have thwarted all his schemes for winning the esteem of mankind and
+fostering the belief which the world entertained of his opulence and
+independence.
+
+I was thrown, by these thoughts, into considerable perplexity. If his
+statement were true, his claim to this money was established; but I
+questioned its truth. To intimate my doubts of his veracity would be to
+provoke abhorrence and outrage.
+
+His last insinuation was peculiarly momentous. Suppose him the
+fraudulent possessor of this money: shall I be justified in taking it
+away by violence under pretence of restoring it to the genuine
+proprietor, who, for aught I know, may be dead, or with whom, at least,
+I may never procure a meeting? But will not my behaviour on this
+occasion be deemed illicit? I entered Welbeck's habitation at midnight,
+proceeded to his closet, possessed myself of portable property, and
+retired unobserved. Is not guilt imputable to an action like this?
+
+Welbeck waited with impatience for a conclusion to my pause. My
+perplexity and indecision did not abate, and my silence continued. At
+length, he repeated his demands, with new vehemence. I was compelled to
+answer. I told him, in few words, that his reasonings had not convinced
+me of the equity of his claim, and that my determination was unaltered.
+
+He had not expected this inflexibility from one in my situation. The
+folly of opposition, when my feebleness and loneliness were contrasted
+with his activity and resources, appeared to him monstrous and glaring;
+but his contempt was converted into rage and fear when he reflected
+that this folly might finally defeat his hopes. He had probably
+determined to obtain the money, let the purchase cost what it would, but
+was willing to exhaust pacific expedients before he should resort to
+force. He might likewise question whether the money was within his
+reach. I had told him that I had it, but whether it was now about me was
+somewhat dubious; yet, though he used no direct inquiries, he chose to
+proceed on the supposition of its being at hand. His angry tones were
+now changed into those of remonstrance and persuasion:--
+
+"Your present behaviour, Mervyn, does not justify the expectation I had
+formed of you. You have been guilty of a base theft. To this you have
+added the deeper crime of ingratitude, but your infatuation and folly
+are, at least, as glaring as your guilt. Do you think I can credit your
+assertions that you keep this money for another, when I recollect that
+six weeks have passed since you carried it off? Why have you not sought
+the owner and restored it to her? If your intentions had been honest,
+would you have suffered so long a time to elapse without doing this? It
+is plain that you designed to keep it for your own use.
+
+"But, whether this were your purpose or not, you have no longer power to
+restore it or retain it. You say that you came hither to die. If so,
+what is to be the fate of the money? In your present situation you
+cannot gain access to the lady. Some other must inherit this wealth.
+Next to _Signora Lodi_, whose right can be put in competition with mine?
+But, if you will not give it to me on my own account, let it be given in
+trust for her. Let me be the bearer of it to her own hands. I have
+already shown you that my claim to it, as her guardian, is legal and
+incontrovertible, but this claim I waive. I will merely be the executor
+of your will. I will bind myself to comply with your directions by any
+oath, however solemn and tremendous, which you shall prescribe."
+
+As long as my own heart acquitted me, these imputations of dishonesty
+affected me but little. They excited no anger, because they originated
+in ignorance, and were rendered plausible to Welbeck by such facts as
+were known to him. It was needless to confute the charge by elaborate
+and circumstantial details.
+
+It was true that my recovery was, in the highest degree, improbable, and
+that my death would put an end to my power over this money; but had I
+not determined to secure its useful application in case of my death?
+This project was obstructed by the presence of Welbeck; but I hoped that
+his love of life would induce him to fly. He might wrest this volume
+from me by violence, or he might wait till my death should give him
+peaceable possession. But these, though probable events, were not
+certain, and would, by no means, justify the voluntary surrender. His
+strength, if employed for this end, could not be resisted; but then it
+would be a sacrifice, not a choice, but necessity.
+
+Promises were easily given, but were surely not to be confided in.
+Welbeck's own tale, in which it could not be imagined that he had
+aggravated his defects, attested the frailty of his virtue. To put into
+his hands a sum like this, in expectation of his delivering it to
+another, when my death would cover the transaction with impenetrable
+secrecy, would be, indeed, a proof of that infatuation which he thought
+proper to impute to me.
+
+These thoughts influenced my resolutions, but they were revolved in
+silence. To state them verbally was useless. They would not justify my
+conduct in his eyes. They would only exasperate dispute, and impel him
+to those acts of violence which I was desirous of preventing. The sooner
+this controversy should end, and I in any measure be freed from the
+obstruction of his company, the better.
+
+"Mr. Welbeck," said I, "my regard to your safety compels me to wish that
+this interview should terminate. At a different time, I should not be
+unwilling to discuss this matter. Now it will be fruitless. My
+conscience points out to me too clearly the path I should pursue for me
+to mistake it. As long as I have power over this money, I shall keep it
+for the use of the unfortunate lady whom I have seen in this house. I
+shall exert myself to find her; but, if that be impossible, I shall
+appropriate it in a way in which you shall have no participation."
+
+I will not repeat the contest that succeeded between my forbearance and
+his passions. I listened to the dictates of his rage and his avarice in
+silence. Astonishment at my inflexibility was blended with his anger. By
+turns he commented on the guilt and on the folly of my resolutions.
+Sometimes his emotions would mount into fury, and he would approach me
+in a menacing attitude, and lift his hand as if he would exterminate me
+at a blow. My languid eyes, my cheeks glowing and my temples throbbing
+with fever, and my total passiveness, attracted his attention and
+arrested his stroke. Compassion would take the place of rage, and the
+belief be revived that remonstrances and arguments would answer his
+purpose.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+
+This scene lasted I know not how long. Insensibly the passions and
+reasonings of Welbeck assumed a new form. A grief, mingled with
+perplexity, overspread his countenance. He ceased to contend or to
+speak. His regards were withdrawn from me, on whom they had hitherto
+been fixed; and, wandering or vacant, testified a conflict of mind
+terrible beyond any that my young imagination had ever conceived.
+
+For a time he appeared to be unconscious of my presence. He moved to and
+fro with unequal steps, and with gesticulations that possessed a
+horrible but indistinct significance. Occasionally he struggled for
+breath, and his efforts were directed to remove some choking impediment.
+
+No test of my fortitude had hitherto occurred equal to that to which it
+was now subjected. The suspicion which this deportment suggested was
+vague and formless. The tempest which I witnessed was the prelude of
+horror. These were throes which would terminate in the birth of some
+gigantic and sanguinary purpose. Did he meditate to offer a bloody
+sacrifice? Was his own death or was mine to attest the magnitude of his
+despair or the impetuosity of his vengeance?
+
+Suicide was familiar to his thoughts. He had consented to live but on
+one condition; that of regaining possession of this money. Should I be
+justified in driving him, by my obstinate refusal, to this fatal
+consummation of his crimes? Yet my fear of this catastrophe was
+groundless. Hitherto he had argued and persuaded; but this method was
+pursued because it was more eligible than the employment of force, or
+than procrastination.
+
+No. These were tokens that pointed to me. Some unknown instigation was
+at work within him, to tear away his remnant of humanity and fit him for
+the office of my murderer. I knew not how the accumulation of guilt
+could contribute to his gratification or security. His actions had been
+partially exhibited and vaguely seen. What extenuations or omissions had
+vitiated his former or recent narrative; how far his actual performances
+were congenial with the deed which was now to be perpetrated, I knew
+not.
+
+These thoughts lent new rapidity to my blood. I raised my head from the
+pillow, and watched the deportment of this man with deeper attention.
+The paroxysm which controlled him at length, in some degree, subsided.
+He muttered, "Yes. It must come. My last humiliation must cover me. My
+last confession must be made. To die, and leave behind me this train of
+enormous perils, must not be.
+
+"O Clemenza! O Mervyn! Ye have not merited that I should leave you a
+legacy of persecution and death. Your safety must be purchased at what
+price my malignant destiny will set upon it. The cord of the
+executioner, the note of everlasting infamy, is better than to leave you
+beset by the consequences of my guilt. It must not be."
+
+Saying this, Welbeck cast fearful glances at the windows and door. He
+examined every avenue and listened. Thrice he repeated this scrutiny.
+Having, as it seemed, ascertained that no one lurked within audience, he
+approached the bed. He put his mouth close to my face. He attempted to
+speak, but once more examined the apartment with suspicious glances.
+
+He drew closer, and at length, in a tone scarcely articulate, and
+suffocated with emotion, he spoke:--"Excellent but fatally-obstinate
+youth! Know at least the cause of my importunity. Know at least the
+depth of my infatuation and the enormity of my guilt.
+
+"The bills--surrender them to me, and save yourself from persecution and
+disgrace. Save the woman whom you wish to benefit, from the blackest
+imputations; from hazard to her life and her fame; from languishing in
+dungeons; from expiring on the gallows!
+
+"The bills--oh, save me from the bitterness of death! Let the evils to
+which my miserable life has given birth terminate here and in myself.
+Surrender them to me, for----"
+
+There he stopped. His utterence was choked by terror. Rapid glances were
+again darted at the windows and door. The silence was uninterrupted,
+except by far-off sounds, produced by some moving carriage. Once more he
+summoned resolution, and spoke:--
+
+"Surrender them to me--for--_they are forged_!
+
+"Formerly I told you, that a scheme of forgery had been conceived. Shame
+would not suffer me to add, that my scheme was carried into execution.
+The bills were fashioned, but my fears contended against my necessities,
+and forbade me to attempt to exchange them. The interview with Lodi
+saved me from the dangerous experiment. I enclosed them in that volume,
+as the means of future opulence, to be used when all other and less
+hazardous resources should fail.
+
+"In the agonies of my remorse at the death of Watson, they were
+forgotten. They afterwards recurred to recollection. My wishes pointed
+to the grave; but the stroke that should deliver me from life was
+suspended only till I could hasten hither, get possession of these
+papers, and destroy them.
+
+"When I thought upon the chances that should give them an owner; bring
+them into circulation; load the innocent with suspicion; and lead them
+to trial, and, perhaps, to death, my sensations were fraught with agony;
+earnestly as I panted for death, it was necessarily deferred till I had
+gained possession of and destroyed these papers.
+
+"What now remains? You have found them. Happily they have not been used.
+Give them, therefore, to me, that I may crush at once the brood of
+mischiefs which they could not but generate."
+
+This disclosure was strange. It was accompanied with every token of
+sincerity. How had I tottered on the brink of destruction! If I had made
+use of this money, in what a labyrinth of misery might I not have been
+involved! My innocence could never have been proved. An alliance with
+Welbeck could not have failed to be inferred. My career would have found
+an ignominious close; or, if my punishment had been transmuted into
+slavery and toil, would the testimony of my conscience have supported
+me?
+
+I shuddered at the view of those disasters from which I was rescued by
+the miraculous chance which led me to this house. Welbeck's request was
+salutary to me and honourable to himself. I could not hesitate a moment
+in compliance. The notes were enclosed in paper, and deposited in a fold
+of my clothes. I put my hand upon them.
+
+My motion and attention were arrested, at the instant, by a noise which
+arose in the street. Footsteps were heard upon the pavement before the
+door, and voices, as if busy in discourse. This incident was adapted to
+infuse the deepest alarm into myself and my companion. The motives of
+our trepidation were, indeed, different, and were infinitely more
+powerful in my case than in his. It portended to me nothing less than
+the loss of my asylum, and condemnation to an hospital.
+
+Welbeck hurried to the door, to listen to the conversation below. This
+interval was pregnant with thought. That impulse which led my
+reflections from Welbeck to my own state passed away in a moment, and
+suffered me to meditate anew upon the terms of that confession which had
+just been made.
+
+Horror at the fate which this interview had enabled me to shun was
+uppermost in my conceptions. I was eager to surrender these fatal bills.
+I held them for that purpose in my hand, and was impatient for Welbeck's
+return. He continued at the door; stooping, with his face averted, and
+eagerly attentive to the conversation in the street.
+
+All the circumstances of my present situation tended to arrest the
+progress of thought and chain my contemplations to one image; but even
+now there was room for foresight and deliberation. Welbeck intended to
+destroy these bills. Perhaps he had not been sincere; or, if his
+purpose had been honestly disclosed, this purpose might change when the
+bills were in his possession. His poverty and sanguineness of temper
+might prompt him to use them.
+
+That this conduct was evil, and would only multiply his miseries, could
+not be questioned. Why should I subject his frailty to this temptation?
+The destruction of these bills was the loudest injunction of my duty;
+was demanded by every sanction which bound me to promote the welfare of
+mankind.
+
+The means of destruction was easy. A lighted candle stood on a table, at
+the distance of a few yards. Why should I hesitate a moment to
+annihilate so powerful a cause of error and guilt? A passing instant was
+sufficient. A momentary lingering might change the circumstances that
+surrounded me, and frustrate my project.
+
+My languors were suspended by the urgencies of this occasion. I started
+from my bed and glided to the table. Seizing the notes with my right
+hand, I held them in the flame of the candle, and then threw them,
+blazing, on the floor.
+
+The sudden illumination was perceived by Welbeck. The cause of it
+appeared to suggest itself as soon. He turned, and, marking the paper
+where it lay, leaped to the spot, and extinguished the fire with his
+foot. His interposition was too late. Only enough of them remained to
+inform him of the nature of the sacrifice.
+
+Welbeck now stood, with limbs trembling, features aghast, and eyes
+glaring upon me. For a time he was without speech. The storm was
+gathering in silence, and at length burst upon me. In a tone menacing
+and loud, he exclaimed,--
+
+"Wretch! what have you done?"
+
+"I have done justly. These notes were false. You desired to destroy
+them, that they might not betray the innocent. I applauded your purpose,
+and have saved you from the danger of temptation by destroying them
+myself."
+
+"Maniac! Miscreant! To be fooled by so gross an artifice! The notes were
+genuine. The tale of their forgery was false and meant only to wrest
+them from you. Execrable and perverse idiot! Your deed has sealed my
+perdition. It has sealed your own. You shall pay for it with your blood.
+I will slay you by inches. I will stretch you, as you have stretched me,
+on the rack."
+
+During this speech, all was frenzy and storm in the countenance and
+features of Welbeck. Nothing less could be expected than that the scene
+would terminate in some bloody catastrophe. I bitterly regretted the
+facility with which I had been deceived, and the precipitation of my
+sacrifice. The act, however lamentable, could not be revoked. What
+remained but to encounter or endure its consequences with unshrinking
+firmness?
+
+The contest was too unequal. It is possible that the frenzy which
+actuated Welbeck might have speedily subsided. It is more likely that
+his passions would have been satiated with nothing but my death. This
+event was precluded by loud knocks at the street door, and calls by some
+one on the pavement without, of--"Who is within? Is any one within?"
+
+These noises gave a new direction to Welbeck's thoughts. "They are
+coming," said he. "They will treat you as a sick man and a thief. I
+cannot desire you to suffer a worse evil than they will inflict. I leave
+you to your fate." So saying, he rushed out of the room.
+
+Though confounded and stunned by this rapid succession of events, I was
+yet able to pursue measures for eluding these detested visitants. I
+first extinguished the light, and then, observing that the parley in the
+street continued and grew louder, I sought an asylum in the remotest
+corner of the house. During my former abode here, I noticed that a
+trap-door opened in the ceiling of the third story, to which you were
+conducted by a movable stair or ladder. I considered that this,
+probably, was an opening into a narrow and darksome nook formed by the
+angle of the roof. By ascending, drawing after me the ladder, and
+closing the door, I should escape the most vigilant search.
+
+Enfeebled as I was by my disease, my resolution rendered me strenuous. I
+gained the uppermost room, and, mounting the ladder, found myself at a
+sufficient distance from suspicion. The stair was hastily drawn up, and
+the door closed. In a few minutes, however, my new retreat proved to be
+worse than any for which it was possible to change it. The air was
+musty, stagnant, and scorchingly hot. My breathing became difficult, and
+I saw that to remain here ten minutes would unavoidably produce
+suffocation.
+
+My terror of intruders had rendered me blind to the consequences of
+immuring myself in this cheerless recess. It was incumbent on me to
+extricate myself as speedily as possible. I attempted to lift the door.
+My first effort was successless. Every inspiration was quicker and more
+difficult than the former. As my terror, so my strength and my exertions
+increased. Finally my trembling hand lighted on a nail that was
+imperfectly driven into the wood, and which, by affording me a firmer
+hold, enabled me at length to raise it, and to inhale the air from
+beneath.
+
+Relieved from my new peril by this situation, I bent an attentive ear
+through the opening, with a view to ascertain if the house had been
+entered or if the outer door was still beset, but could hear nothing.
+Hence I was authorized to conclude that the people had departed, and
+that I might resume my former station without hazard.
+
+Before I descended, however, I cast a curious eye over this recess. It
+was large enough to accommodate a human being. The means by which it was
+entered were easily concealed. Though narrow and low, it was long, and,
+were it possible to contrive some inlet for the air, one studious of
+concealment might rely on its protection with unbounded confidence.
+
+My scrutiny was imperfect by reason of the faint light which found its
+way through the opening; yet it was sufficient to set me afloat on a sea
+of new wonders and subject my fortitude to a new test.--
+
+Here Mervyn paused in his narrative. A minute passed in silence and
+seeming indecision. His perplexities gradually disappeared, and he
+continued:--
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I have promised to relate the momentous incidents of my life, and have
+hitherto been faithful in my enumeration. There is nothing which I more
+detest than equivocation and mystery. Perhaps, however, I shall now
+incur some imputation of that kind. I would willingly escape the
+accusation, but confess that I am hopeless of escaping it.
+
+I might, indeed, have precluded your guesses and surmises by omitting to
+relate what befell me from the time of my leaving my chamber till I
+regained it. I might deceive you by asserting that nothing remarkable
+occurred; but this would be false, and every sacrifice is trivial which
+is made upon the altar of sincerity. Besides, the time may come when no
+inconvenience will arise from minute descriptions of the objects which I
+now saw, and of the reasonings and inferences which they suggested to my
+understanding. At present, it appears to be my duty to pass them over in
+silence; but it would be needless to conceal from you that the interval,
+though short, and the scrutiny, though hasty, furnished matter which my
+curiosity devoured with unspeakable eagerness, and from which
+consequences may hereafter flow, deciding on my peace and my life.
+
+Nothing, however, occurred which could detain me long in this spot. I
+once more sought the lower story and threw myself on the bed which I had
+left. My mind was thronged with the images flowing from my late
+adventure. My fever had gradually increased, and my thoughts were
+deformed by inaccuracy and confusion.
+
+My heart did not sink when I reverted to my own condition. That I should
+quickly be disabled from moving, was readily perceived. The foresight of
+my destiny was steadfast and clear. To linger for days in this
+comfortless solitude, to ask in vain, not for powerful restoratives or
+alleviating cordials, but for water to moisten my burning lips and abate
+the torments of thirst; ultimately to expire in torpor or frenzy, was
+the fate to which I looked forward; yet I was not terrified. I seemed to
+be sustained by a preternatural energy. I felt as if the opportunity of
+combating such evils was an enviable privilege, and, though none would
+witness my victorious magnanimity, yet to be conscious that praise was
+my due was all that my ambition required.
+
+These sentiments were doubtless tokens of delirium. The excruciating
+agonies which now seized upon my head, and the cord which seemed to be
+drawn across my breast, and which, as my fancy imagined, was tightened
+by some forcible hand, with a view to strangle me, were incompatible
+with sober and coherent views.
+
+Thirst was the evil which chiefly oppressed me. The means of relief was
+pointed out by nature and habit. I rose, and determined to replenish my
+pitcher at the well. It was easier, however, to descend than to return.
+My limbs refused to bear me, and I sat down upon the lower step of the
+staircase. Several hours had elapsed since my entrance into this
+dwelling, and it was now night.
+
+My imagination now suggested a new expedient. Medlicote was a generous
+and fearless spirit. To put myself under his protection, if I could walk
+as far as his lodgings, was the wisest proceeding which I could adopt.
+From this design, my incapacity to walk thus far, and the consequences
+of being discovered in the street, had hitherto deterred me. These
+impediments were now, in the confusion of my understanding, overlooked
+or despised, and I forthwith set out upon this hopeless expedition.
+
+The doors communicating with the court, and, through the court, with the
+street, were fastened by inside bolts. These were easily withdrawn, and
+I issued forth with alacrity and confidence. My perturbed senses and the
+darkness hindered me from discerning the right way. I was conscious of
+this difficulty, but was not disheartened. I proceeded, as I have since
+discovered, in a direction different from the true, but hesitated not
+till my powers were exhausted and I sunk upon the ground. I closed my
+eyes, and dismissed all fear, and all foresight of futurity. In this
+situation I remained some hours, and should probably have expired on
+this spot, had not I attracted your notice, and been provided, under
+this roof, with all that medical skill, that the tenderest humanity
+could suggest.
+
+In consequence of your care, I have been restored to life and to health.
+Your conduct was not influenced by the prospect of pecuniary recompense,
+of service, or of gratitude. It is only in one way that I am able to
+heighten the gratification which must flow from reflection on your
+conduct:--by showing that the being whose life you have prolonged,
+though uneducated, ignorant, and poor, is not profligate and worthless,
+and will not dedicate that life which your bounty has given, to
+mischievous or contemptible purposes.
+
+
+END OF VOL I.
+
+
+
+
+ARTHUR MERVYN;
+
+OR,
+
+MEMOIRS OF THE YEAR 1793.
+
+VOL. II.
+
+
+
+
+ARTHUR MERVYN.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+
+Here ended the narrative of Mervyn. Surely its incidents were of no
+common kind. During this season of pestilence, my opportunities of
+observation had been numerous, and I had not suffered them to pass
+unimproved. The occurrences which fell within my own experience bore a
+general resemblance to those which had just been related, but they did
+not hinder the latter from striking on my mind with all the force of
+novelty. They served no end, but as vouchers for the truth of the tale.
+
+Surely the youth had displayed inimitable and heroic qualities. His
+courage was the growth of benevolence and reason, and not the child of
+insensibility and the nursling of habit. He had been qualified for the
+encounter of gigantic dangers by no laborious education. He stepped
+forth upon the stage, unfurnished, by anticipation or experience, with
+the means of security against fraud; and yet, by the aid of pure
+intentions, had frustrated the wiles of an accomplished and veteran
+deceiver.
+
+I blessed the chance which placed the youth under my protection. When I
+reflected on that tissue of nice contingencies which led him to my door,
+and enabled me to save from death a being of such rare endowments, my
+heart overflowed with joy, not unmingled with regrets and trepidation.
+How many have been cut off by this disease, in their career of virtue
+and their blossom-time of genius! How many deeds of heroism and
+self-devotion are ravished from existence, and consigned to hopeless
+oblivion!
+
+I had saved the life of this youth. This was not the limit of my duty or
+my power. Could I not render that life profitable to himself and to
+mankind? The gains of my profession were slender; but these gains were
+sufficient for his maintenance as well as my own. By residing with me,
+partaking my instructions, and reading my books, he would, in a few
+years, be fitted for the practice of physic. A science whose truths are
+so conducive to the welfare of mankind, and which comprehends the whole
+system of nature, could not but gratify a mind so beneficent and
+strenuous as his.
+
+This scheme occurred to me as soon as the conclusion of his tale allowed
+me to think. I did not immediately mention it, since the approbation of
+my wife, of whose concurrence, however, I entertained no doubt, was
+previously to be obtained. Dismissing it, for the present, from my
+thoughts, I reverted to the incidents of his tale.
+
+The lady whom Welbeck had betrayed and deserted was not unknown to me. I
+was but too well acquainted with her fate. If she had been single in
+calamity, her tale would have been listened to with insupportable
+sympathy; but the frequency of the spectacle of distress seems to lessen
+the compassion with which it is reviewed. Now that those scenes are only
+remembered, my anguish is greater than when they were witnessed. Then
+every new day was only a repetition of the disasters of the foregoing.
+My sensibility, if not extinguished, was blunted; and I gazed upon the
+complicated ills of poverty and sickness with a degree of unconcern on
+which I should once have reflected with astonishment.
+
+The fate of Clemenza Lodi was not, perhaps, more signal than many which
+have occurred. It threw detestable light upon the character of Welbeck,
+and showed him to be more inhuman than the tale of Mervyn had evinced
+him to be. That man, indeed, was hitherto imperfectly seen. The time had
+not come which should fully unfold the enormity of his transgressions
+and the complexity of his frauds.
+
+There lived in a remote quarter of the city a woman, by name Villars,
+who passed for the widow of an English officer. Her manners and mode of
+living were specious. She had three daughters, well trained in the
+school of fashion, and elegant in person, manners, and dress. They had
+lately arrived from Europe, and, for a time, received from their
+neighbours that respect to which their education and fortune appeared to
+lay claim.
+
+The fallacy of their pretensions slowly appeared. It began to be
+suspected that their subsistence was derived not from pension or
+patrimony, but from the wages of pollution. Their habitation was
+clandestinely frequented by men who were unfaithful to their secret; one
+of these was allied to me by ties which authorized me in watching his
+steps and detecting his errors, with a view to his reformation. From him
+I obtained a knowledge of the genuine character of these women.
+
+A man like Welbeck, who was the slave of depraved appetites, could not
+fail of being quickly satiated with innocence and beauty. Some accident
+introduced him to the knowledge of this family, and the youngest
+daughter found him a proper subject on which to exercise her artifices.
+It was to the frequent demands made upon his purse, by this woman, that
+part of the embarrassments in which Mervyn found him involved are to be
+ascribed.
+
+To this circumstance must likewise be imputed his anxiety to transfer to
+some other the possession of the unhappy stranger. Why he concealed from
+Mervyn his connection with Lucy Villars may be easily imagined. His
+silence with regard to Clemenza's asylum will not create surprise, when
+it was told that she was placed with Mrs. Villars. On what conditions
+she was received under this roof, cannot be so readily conjectured. It
+is obvious, however, to suppose that advantage was to be taken of her
+ignorance and weakness, and that they hoped, in time, to make her an
+associate in their profligate schemes.
+
+The appearance of pestilence, meanwhile, threw them into panic, and they
+hastened to remove from danger. Mrs. Villars appears to have been a
+woman of no ordinary views. She stooped to the vilest means of amassing
+money; but this money was employed to secure to herself and her
+daughters the benefits of independence. She purchased the house which
+she occupied in the city, and a mansion in the environs, well built and
+splendidly furnished. To the latter, she and her family, of which the
+Italian girl was now a member, retired at the close of July.
+
+I have mentioned that the source of my intelligence was a kinsman, who
+had been drawn from the paths of sobriety and rectitude by the
+impetuosity of youthful passions. He had power to confess and deplore,
+but none to repair, his errors. One of these women held him by a spell
+which he struggled in vain to dissolve, and by which, in spite of
+resolutions and remorses, he was drawn to her feet, and made to
+sacrifice to her pleasure his reputation and his fortune.
+
+My house was his customary abode during those intervals in which he was
+persuaded to pursue his profession. Some time before the infection began
+its progress, he had disappeared. No tidings were received of him, till
+a messenger arrived, entreating my assistance. I was conducted to the
+house of Mrs. Villars, in which I found no one but my kinsman. Here, it
+seems, he had immured himself from my inquiries, and, on being seized by
+the reigning malady, had been deserted by the family, who, ere they
+departed, informed me by a messenger of his condition.
+
+Despondency combined with his disease to destroy him. Before he died, he
+informed me fully of the character of his betrayers. The late arrival,
+name, and personal condition of Clemenza Lodi were related. Welbeck was
+not named, but was described in terms which, combined with the narrative
+of Mervyn, enabled me to recognise the paramour of Lucy Villars in the
+man whose crimes had been the principal theme of our discourse.
+
+Mervyn's curiosity was greatly roused when I intimated my acquaintance
+with the fate of Clemenza. In answer to his eager interrogations, I
+related what I knew. The tale plunged him into reverie. Recovering, at
+length, from his thoughtfulness, he spoke:--
+
+"Her condition is perilous. The poverty of Welbeck will drive him far
+from her abode. Her profligate protectors will entice her or abandon her
+to ruin. Cannot she be saved?"
+
+"I know not," answered I, "by what means."
+
+"The means are obvious. Let her remove to some other dwelling. Let her
+be apprized of the vices of those who surround her. Let her be entreated
+to fly. The will need only be inspired, the danger need only be shown,
+and she is safe, for she will remove beyond its reach."
+
+"Thou art an adventurous youth. Who wilt thou find to undertake the
+office? Who will be persuaded to enter the house of a stranger, seek
+without an introduction the presence of this girl, tell her that the
+house she inhabits is a house of prostitution, prevail on her to believe
+the tale, and persuade her to accompany him? Who will open his house to
+the fugitive? Whom will you convince that her illicit intercourse with
+Welbeck, of which the opprobrious tokens cannot be concealed, has not
+fitted her for the company of prostitutes, and made her unworthy of
+protection? Who will adopt into their family a stranger whose conduct
+has incurred infamy, and whose present associates have, no doubt, made
+her worthy of the curse?"
+
+"True. These are difficulties which I did not foresee. Must she then
+perish? Shall not something be done to rescue her from infamy and
+guilt?"
+
+"It is neither in your power nor in mine to do any thing."
+
+The lateness of the hour put an end to our conversation and summoned us
+to repose. I seized the first opportunity of imparting to my wife the
+scheme which had occurred, relative to our guest; with which, as I
+expected, she readily concurred. In the morning, I mentioned it to
+Mervyn. I dwelt upon the benefits that adhered to the medical
+profession, the power which it confers of lightening the distresses of
+our neighbours, the dignity which popular opinion annexes to it, the
+avenue which it opens to the acquisition of competence, the freedom from
+servile cares which attends it, and the means of intellectual
+gratification with which it supplies us.
+
+As I spoke, his eyes sparkled with joy. "Yes," said he, with vehemence,
+"I willingly embrace your offer. I accept this benefit, because I know
+that, if my pride should refuse it, I should prove myself less worthy
+than you think, and give you pain, instead of that pleasure which I am
+bound to confer. I would enter on the duties and studies of my new
+profession immediately; but somewhat is due to Mr. Hadwin and his
+daughters. I cannot vanquish my inquietudes respecting them, but by
+returning to Malverton and ascertaining their state with my own eyes.
+You know in what circumstances I parted with Wallace and Mr. Hadwin. I
+am not sure that either of them ever reached home, or that they did not
+carry the infection along with them. I now find myself sufficiently
+strong to perform the journey, and purposed to have acquainted you, at
+this interview, with my intentions. An hour's delay is superfluous, and
+I hope you will consent to my setting out immediately. Rural exercise
+and air, for a week or fortnight, will greatly contribute to my health."
+
+No objection could be made to this scheme. His narrative had excited no
+common affection in our bosoms for the Hadwins. His visit could not only
+inform us of their true state, but would dispel that anxiety which they
+could not but entertain respecting our guest. It was a topic of some
+surprise that neither Wallace nor Hadwin had returned to the city, with
+a view to obtain some tidings of their friend. It was more easy to
+suppose them to have been detained by some misfortune, than by
+insensibility or indolence. In a few minutes Mervyn bade us adieu, and
+set out upon his journey, promising to acquaint us with the state of
+affairs as soon as possible after his arrival. We parted from him with
+reluctance, and found no consolation but in the prospect of his speedy
+return.
+
+During his absence, conversation naturally turned upon those topics
+which were suggested by the narrative and deportment of this youth.
+Different conclusions were formed by his two auditors. They had both
+contracted a deep interest in his welfare, and an ardent curiosity as to
+those particulars which his unfinished story had left in obscurity. The
+true character and actual condition of Welbeck were themes of much
+speculation. Whether he were dead or alive, near or distant from his
+ancient abode, was a point on which neither Mervyn, nor any of those
+with whom I had means of intercourse, afforded any information. Whether
+he had shared the common fate, and had been carried by the collectors of
+the dead from the highway or the hovel to the pits opened alike for the
+rich and the poor, the known and the unknown; whether he had escaped to
+a foreign shore, or were destined to reappear upon this stage, were
+questions involved in uncertainty.
+
+The disappearance of Watson would, at a different time, have excited
+much inquiry and suspicion; but, as this had taken place on the eve of
+the epidemic, his kindred and friends would acquiesce, without scruple,
+in the belief that he had been involved in the general calamity, and was
+to be numbered among the earliest victims. Those of his profession
+usually resided in the street where the infection began, and where its
+ravages had been most destructive; and this circumstance would
+corroborate the conclusions of his friends.
+
+I did not perceive any immediate advantage to flow from imparting the
+knowledge I had lately gained to others. Shortly after Mervyn's
+departure to Malverton, I was visited by Wortley. Inquiring for my
+guest, I told him that, having recovered his health, he had left my
+house. He repeated his invectives against the villany of Welbeck, his
+suspicions of Mervyn, and his wishes for another interview with the
+youth. Why had I suffered him to depart, and whither had he gone?
+
+"He has gone for a short time into the country. I expect him to return
+in less than a week, when you will meet with him here as often as you
+please, for I expect him to take up his abode in this house."
+
+Much astonishment and disapprobation were expressed by my friend. I
+hinted that the lad had made disclosures to me, which justified my
+confidence in his integrity. These proofs of his honesty were not of a
+nature to be indiscriminately unfolded. Mervyn had authorized me to
+communicate so much of his story to Wortley, as would serve to vindicate
+him from the charge of being Welbeck's co-partner in fraud; but this end
+would only be counteracted by an imperfect tale, and the full recital,
+though it might exculpate Mervyn, might produce inconveniences by which
+this advantage would be outweighed.
+
+Wortley, as might be naturally expected, was by no means satisfied with
+this statement. He suspected that Mervyn was a wily impostor; that he
+had been trained in the arts of fraud, under an accomplished teacher;
+that the tale which he had told to me was a tissue of ingenious and
+plausible lies; that the mere assertions, however plausible and solemn,
+of one like him, whose conduct had incurred such strong suspicions, were
+unworthy of the least credit.
+
+"It cannot be denied," continued my friend, "that he lived with Welbeck
+at the time of his elopement; that they disappeared together; that they
+entered a boat, at Pine Street wharf, at midnight; that this boat was
+discovered by the owner in the possession of a fisherman at Redbank, who
+affirmed that he had found it stranded near his door, the day succeeding
+that on which they disappeared. Of all this I can supply you with
+incontestable proof. If, after this proof, you can give credit to his
+story, I shall think you made of very perverse and credulous materials."
+
+"The proof you mention," said I, "will only enhance his credibility. All
+the facts which you have stated have been admitted by him. They
+constitute an essential portion of his narrative."
+
+"What then is the inference? Are not these evidences of a compact
+between them? Has he not acknowledged this compact in confessing that he
+knew Welbeck was my debtor; that he was apprized of his flight, but that
+(what matchless effrontery!) he had promised secrecy, and would, by no
+means, betray him? You say he means to return; but of that I doubt. You
+will never see his face more. He is too wise to thrust himself again
+into the noose; but I do not utterly despair of lighting upon Welbeck.
+Old Thetford, Jamieson, and I, have sworn to hunt him through the world.
+I have strong hopes that he has not strayed far. Some intelligence has
+lately been received, which has enabled us to place our hounds upon his
+scent. He may double and skulk; but, if he does not fall into our toils
+at last, he will have the agility and cunning, as well as the malignity,
+of devils."
+
+The vengeful disposition thus betrayed by Wortley was not without
+excuse. The vigour of his days had been spent in acquiring a slender
+capital; his diligence and honesty had succeeded, and he had lately
+thought his situation such as to justify marriage with an excellent
+woman, to whom he had for years been betrothed, but from whom his
+poverty had hitherto compelled him to live separate. Scarcely had this
+alliance taken place, and the full career of nuptial enjoyments begun,
+when his ill fate exposed him to the frauds of Welbeck, and brought him,
+in one evil hour, to the brink of insolvency.
+
+Jamieson and Thetford, however, were rich, and I had not till now been
+informed that they had reasons for pursuing Welbeck with peculiar
+animosity. The latter was the uncle of him whose fate had been related
+by Mervyn, and was one of those who employed money, not as the medium of
+traffic, but as in itself a commodity. He had neither wines nor cloths,
+to transmute into silver. He thought it a tedious process to exchange
+to-day one hundred dollars for a cask or bale, and to-morrow exchange
+the bale or cask for one hundred _and ten_ dollars. It was better to
+give the hundred for a piece of paper, which, carried forthwith to the
+money-changers, he could procure a hundred twenty-three and
+three-fourths. In short, this man's coffers were supplied by the despair
+of honest men and the stratagems of rogues. I did not immediately
+suspect how this man's prudence and indefatigable attention to his own
+interest should allow him to become the dupe of Welbeck.
+
+"What," said I, "is old Thetford's claim upon Welbeck?"
+
+"It is a claim," he replied, "that, if it ever be made good, will doom
+Welbeck to imprisonment and wholesome labour for life."
+
+"How? Surely it is nothing more than debt."
+
+"Have you not heard? But that is no wonder. Happily you are a stranger
+to mercantile anxieties and revolutions. Your fortune does not rest on a
+basis which an untoward blast may sweep away, or four strokes of a pen
+may demolish. That hoary dealer in suspicions was persuaded to put his
+hand to three notes for eight hundred dollars each. The _eight_ was then
+dexterously prolonged to eigh_teen_; they were duly deposited in time
+and place, and the next day Welbeck was credited for fifty-three hundred
+and seventy-three, which, an hour after, were _told out_ to his
+messenger. Hard to say whether the old man's grief, shame, or rage, be
+uppermost. He disdains all comfort but revenge, and that he will procure
+at any price. Jamieson, who deals in the same _stuff_ with Thetford, was
+outwitted in the same manner, to the same amount, and on the same day.
+
+"This Welbeck must have powers above the common rate of mortals. Grown
+gray in studying the follies and the stratagems of men, these veterans
+were overreached. No one pities them. 'Twere well if his artifices had
+been limited to such, and he had spared the honest and the poor. It is
+for his injuries to men who have earned their scanty subsistence without
+forfeiting their probity, that I hate him, and shall exult to see him
+suffer all the rigours of the law." Here Wortley's engagements compelled
+him to take his leave.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+
+While musing upon these facts, I could not but reflect with astonishment
+on the narrow escapes which Mervyn's virtue had experienced. I was by no
+means certain that his fame or his life was exempt from all danger, or
+that the suspicions which had already been formed respecting him could
+possibly be wiped away. Nothing but his own narrative, repeated with
+that simple but nervous eloquence which we had witnessed, could rescue
+him from the most heinous charges. Was there any tribunal that would not
+acquit him on merely hearing his defence?
+
+Surely the youth was honest. His tale could not be the fruit of
+invention; and yet, what are the bounds of fraud? Nature has set no
+limits to the combinations of fancy. A smooth exterior, a show of
+virtue, and a specious tale, are, a thousand times, exhibited in human
+intercourse by craft and subtlety. Motives are endlessly varied, while
+actions continue the same; and an acute penetration may not find it hard
+to select and arrange motives, suited to exempt from censure any action
+that a human being can commit.
+
+Had I heard Mervyn's story from another, or read it in a book, I might,
+perhaps, have found it possible to suspect the truth; but, as long as
+the impression made by his tones, gestures, and looks, remained in my
+memory, this suspicion was impossible. Wickedness may sometimes be
+ambiguous, its mask may puzzle the observer; our judgment may be made to
+falter and fluctuate, but the face of Mervyn is the index of an honest
+mind. Calm or vehement, doubting or confident, it is full of benevolence
+and candour. He that listens to his words may question their truth, but
+he that looks upon his countenance when speaking cannot withhold his
+faith.
+
+It was possible, however, to find evidence supporting or confuting his
+story. I chanced to be acquainted with a family, by name Althorpe, who
+were natives of that part of the country where his father resided. I
+paid them a visit, and, after a few preliminaries, mentioned, as if by
+accident, the name of Mervyn. They immediately recognised this name as
+belonging to one of their ancient neighbours. The death of the wife and
+sons, and the seduction of the only daughter by Colvill, with many
+pathetic incidents connected with the fate of this daughter, were
+mentioned.
+
+This intelligence induced me to inquire of Mrs. Althorpe, a sensible and
+candid woman, if she were acquainted with the recent or present
+situation of this family.
+
+"I cannot say much," she answered, "of my own knowledge. Since my
+marriage, I am used to spend a few weeks of summer at my father's, but
+am less inquisitive than I once was into the concerns of my old
+neighbours. I recollect, however, when there, last year, during _the
+fever_, to have heard that Sawny Mervyn had taken a second wife; that
+his only son, a youth of eighteen, had thought proper to be highly
+offended with his father's conduct, and treated the new mistress of the
+house with insult and contempt. I should not much wonder at this, seeing
+children are so apt to deem themselves unjustly treated by a second
+marriage of their parent; but it was hinted that the boy's jealousy and
+discontent were excited by no common cause. The new mother was not much
+older than himself, had been a servant of the family, and a criminal
+intimacy had subsisted between her, while in that condition, and the
+son. Her marriage with his father was justly accounted by their
+neighbours a most profligate and odious transaction. The son, perhaps,
+had, in such a case, a right to scold, but he ought not to have carried
+his anger to such extremes as have been imputed to him. He is said to
+have grinned upon her with contempt, and even to have called her
+_strumpet_ in the presence of his father and of strangers.
+
+"It was impossible for such a family to keep together. Arthur took leave
+one night to possess himself of all his father's cash, mount the best
+horse in his meadow, and elope. For a time, no one knew whither he had
+gone. At last, one was said to have met with him in the streets of this
+city, metamorphosed from a rustic lad into a fine gentleman. Nothing
+could be quicker than this change, for he left the country on a Saturday
+morning, and was seen in a French frock and silk stockings, going into
+Christ's Church the next day. I suppose he kept it up with a high hand,
+as long as his money lasted.
+
+"My lather paid us a visit last week, and, among other country-news,
+told us that Sawny Mervyn had sold his place. His wife had persuaded him
+to try his fortune in the Western country. The price of his hundred
+acres here would purchase a thousand there, and the man, being very
+gross and ignorant, and, withal, quite a simpleton, found no difficulty
+in perceiving that a thousand are ten times more than a hundred. He was
+not aware that a rood of ground upon Schuylkill is tenfold better than
+an acre on the Tennessee.
+
+"The woman turned out to be an artful profligate. Having sold his ground
+and gotten his money, he placed it in her keeping, and she, to enjoy it
+with the more security, ran away to the city; leaving him to prosecute
+his journey to Kentucky moneyless and alone. Some time after, Mr.
+Althorpe and I were at the play, when he pointed out to me a group of
+females in an upper box, one of whom was no other than Betty Lawrence.
+It was not easy to recognise, in her present gaudy trim, all flaunting
+with ribbons and shining with trinkets, the same Betty who used to deal
+out pecks of potatoes and superintend her basket of cantaloupes in the
+Jersey market, in pasteboard bonnet and linsey petticoat. Her companions
+were of the infamous class. If Arthur were still in the city, there is
+no doubt that the mother and son might renew the ancient terms of their
+acquaintance.
+
+"The old man, thus robbed and betrayed, sought consolation in the
+bottle, of which he had been at all times over-fond. He wandered from
+one tavern to another till his credit was exhausted, and then was sent
+to jail, where, I believe, he is likely to continue till his death.
+Such, my friend, is the history of the Mervyns."
+
+"What proof," said I, "have you of the immoral conduct of the son? Of
+his mistreatment of his mother, and his elopement with his father's
+horse and money?"
+
+"I have no proof but the unanimous report of Mervyn's neighbours.
+Respectable and honest men have affirmed, in my hearing, that they had
+been present when the boy treated his mother in the way that I have
+described. I was, besides, once in company with the old man, and heard
+him bitterly inveigh against his son, and charge him with the fact of
+stealing his horse and money. I well remember that tears rolled from his
+eyes while talking on the subject. As to his being seen in the city the
+next day after his elopement, dressed in a most costly and fashionable
+manner, I can doubt that as little as the rest, for he that saw him was
+my father, and you, who know my father, know what credit is due to his
+eyes and his word. He had seen Arthur often enough not to be mistaken,
+and described his appearance with great exactness. The boy is extremely
+handsome, give him his due; has dark hazel eyes, auburn hair, and very
+elegant proportions. His air and gait have nothing of the clown in them.
+Take away his jacket and trousers, and you have as spruce a fellow as
+ever came from dancing-school or college. He is the exact picture of his
+mother, and the most perfect contrast to the sturdy legs, squat figure,
+and broad, unthinking, sheepish face of the father that can be imagined.
+You must confess that his appearance here is a pretty strong proof of
+the father's assertions. The money given for these clothes could not
+possibly have been honestly acquired. It is to be presumed that they
+were bought or stolen, for how else should they have been gotten?"
+
+"What was this lad's personal deportment during the life of his mother,
+and before his father's second marriage?"
+
+"Very little to the credit of his heart or his intellects. Being the
+youngest son, the only one who at length survived, and having a
+powerful resemblance to herself, he became the mother's favourite. His
+constitution was feeble, and he loved to stroll in the woods more than
+to plough or sow. This idleness was much against his father's
+inclination and judgment; and, indeed, it was the foundation of all his
+vices. When he could be prevailed upon to do any thing it was in a
+bungling manner, and so as to prove that his thoughts were fixed on any
+thing except his business. When his assistance was wanted he was never
+to be found at hand. They were compelled to search for him among the
+rocks and bushes, and he was generally discovered sauntering along the
+bank of a river, or lolling in the shade of a tree. This disposition to
+inactivity and laziness, in so young a man, was very strange. Persons of
+his age are rarely fond of work, but then they are addicted to company,
+and sports, and exercises. They ride, or shoot, or frolic; but this
+being moped away his time in solitude, never associated with other young
+people, never mounted a horse but when he could not help it, and never
+fired a gun or angled for a fish in his life. Some people supposed him
+to be half an idiot, or, at least, not to be right in his mind; and,
+indeed, his conduct was so very perverse and singular, that I do not
+wonder at those who accounted for it in this way."
+
+"But surely," said I, "he had some object of pursuit. Perhaps he was
+addicted to books."
+
+"Far from it. On the contrary, his aversion to school was as great as
+his hatred of the plough. He never could get his lessons or bear the
+least constraint. He was so much indulged by his mother at home, that
+tasks and discipline of any kind were intolerable. He was a perpetual
+truant; till, the master one day attempting to strike him, he ran out of
+the room and never entered it more. The mother excused and countenanced
+his frowardness, and the foolish father was obliged to give way. I do
+not believe he had two months' schooling in his life."
+
+"Perhaps," said I, "he preferred studying by himself, and at liberty. I
+have known boys endowed with great curiosity and aptitude to learning,
+who never could endure set tasks, and spurned at the pedagogue and his
+rod."
+
+"I have known such likewise, but this was not one of them. I know not
+whence he could derive his love of knowledge or the means of acquiring
+it. The family were totally illiterate. The father was a Scotch peasant,
+whose ignorance was so great that he could not sign his name. His wife,
+I believe, could read, and might sometimes decipher the figures in an
+almanac; but that was all. I am apt to think that the son's ability was
+not much greater. You might as well look for silver platters or marble
+tables in his house, as for a book or a pen.
+
+"I remember calling at their house one evening in the winter before
+last. It was intensely cold; and my father, who rode with me, having
+business with Sawny Mervyn, we stopped a minute at his gate; and, while
+the two old men were engaged in conversation, I begged leave to warm
+myself by the kitchen fire. Here, in the chimney-corner, seated on a
+block, I found Arthur busily engaged in _knitting stockings_! I thought
+this a whimsical employment for a young active man. I told him so, for I
+wanted to put him to the blush; but he smiled in my face, and answered,
+without the least discomposure, 'Just as whimsical a business for a
+young active woman. Pray, did you never knit a stocking?'
+
+"'Yes; but that was from necessity. Were I of a different sex, or did I
+possess the strength of a man, I should rather work in my field or study
+my book.'
+
+"'Rejoice that you are a woman, then, and are at liberty to pursue that
+which costs least labour and demands most skill. You see, though a man,
+I use your privilege, and prefer knitting yarn to threshing my brain
+with a book or the barn-floor with a flail.'
+
+"'I wonder,' said I, contemptuously, 'you do not put on the petticoat as
+well as handle the needle.'
+
+"'Do not wonder,' he replied; 'it is because I hate a petticoat
+encumbrance as much as I love warm feet. Look there,' (offering the
+stocking to my inspection:) 'is it not well done?'
+
+"I did not touch it, but sneeringly said, 'Excellent! I wonder you do
+not apprentice yourself to a tailor.'
+
+"He looked at me with an air of ridiculous simplicity, and said, 'How
+prone the woman is to _wonder_! You call the work excellent, and yet
+_wonder_ that I do not make myself a slave to improve my skill! Did you
+learn needlework from seven years' squatting on a tailor's board? Had
+you come to me, I would have taught you in a day.'
+
+"'I was taught at school.'
+
+"'And paid your instructor?'
+
+"'To-be-sure.'
+
+"''Twas liberty and money thrown away. Send your sister, if you have
+one, to me, and I will teach her without either rod or wages. Will you?'
+
+"'You have an old and a violent antipathy, I believe, to any thing like
+a school.'
+
+"'True. It was early and violent. Had not you?'
+
+"'No. I went to school with pleasure; for I thought to read and write
+were accomplishments of some value.'
+
+"'Indeed? Then I misunderstood you just now. I thought you said that,
+had you the strength of a man, you should prefer the plough and the book
+to the needle. Whence, supposing you a female, I inferred that you had a
+woman's love for the needle and a fool's hatred of books.'
+
+"My father calling me from without, I now made a motion to go. 'Stay,'
+continued he, with great earnestness, throwing aside his
+knitting-apparatus, and beginning in great haste to pull off his
+stockings. 'Draw these stockings over your shoes. They will save your
+feet from the snow while walking to your horse.'
+
+"Half angry, and half laughing, I declined the offer. He had drawn them
+off, however, and, holding them in his hand, 'Be persuaded,' said he;
+'only lift your feet, and I will slip them on in a trice.'
+
+"Finding me positive in my refusal, he dropped the stockings; and,
+without more ado, caught me up in his arms, rushed out of the room, and,
+running barefoot through the snow, set me fairly on my horse. All was
+done in a moment, and before I had time to reflect on his intentions. He
+then seized my hand, and, kissing it with great fervour, exclaimed, 'A
+thousand thanks to you for not accepting my stockings. You have thereby
+saved yourself and me the time and toil of drawing on and drawing off.
+Since you have taught me to wonder, let me practise the lesson in
+wondering at your folly, in wearing worsted shoes and silk stockings at
+a season like this. Take my counsel, and turn your silk to worsted and
+your worsted to leather. Then may you hope for warm feet and dry. What!
+Leave the gate without a blessing on your counsellor?'
+
+"I spurred my horse into a gallop, glad to escape from so strange a
+being. I could give you many instances of behaviour equally singular,
+and which betrayed a mixture of shrewdness and folly, of kindness and
+impudence, which justified, perhaps, the common notion that his
+intellects were unsound. Nothing was more remarkable than his
+impenetrability to ridicule and censure. You might revile him for hours,
+and he would listen to you with invincible composure. To awaken anger or
+shame in him was impossible. He would answer, but in such a way as to
+show him totally unaware of your true meaning. He would afterwards talk
+to you with all the smiling affability and freedom of an old friend.
+Every one despised him for his idleness and folly, no less conspicuous
+in his words than his actions; but no one feared him, and few were angry
+with him, till after the detection of his commerce with _Betty_, and his
+inhuman treatment of his father."
+
+"Have you good reasons for supposing him to have been illicitly
+connected with that girl?"
+
+"Yes. Such as cannot be discredited. It would not be proper for me to
+state these proofs. Nay, he never denied it. When reminded, on one
+occasion, of the inference which every impartial person would draw from
+appearances, he acknowledged, with his usual placid effrontery, that the
+inference was unavoidable. He even mentioned other concurring and
+contemporary incidents, which had eluded the observation of his
+censurer, and which added still more force to the conclusion. He was
+studious to palliate the vices of this woman, as long as he was her only
+paramour; but, after her marriage with his father, the tone was changed.
+He confessed that she was tidy, notable, industrious; but, then, she
+was a prostitute. When charged with being instrumental in making her
+such, and when his companions dwelt upon the depravity of reviling her
+for vices which she owed to him, 'True,' he would say, 'there is
+depravity and folly in the conduct you describe. Make me out, if you
+please, to be a villain. What then? I was talking, not of myself, but of
+Betty. Still this woman is a prostitute. If it were I that made her
+such, with more confidence may I make the charge. But think not that I
+blame Betty. Place me in her situation, and I should have acted just so.
+I should have formed just such notions of my interest, and pursued it by
+the same means. Still, say I, I would fain have a different woman for my
+father's wife, and the mistress of his family.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+
+This conversation was interrupted by a messenger from my wife, who
+desired my return immediately. I had some hopes of meeting with Mervyn,
+some days having now elapsed since his parting from us, and not being
+conscious of any extraordinary motives for delay. It was Wortley,
+however, and not Mervyn, to whom I was called.
+
+My friend came to share with me his suspicions and inquietudes
+respecting Welbeck and Mervyn. An accident had newly happened which had
+awakened these suspicions afresh. He desired a patient audience while he
+explained them to me. These were his words:--
+
+"To-day a person presented me a letter from a mercantile friend at
+Baltimore. I easily discerned the bearer to be a sea-captain. He was a
+man of sensible and pleasing aspect, and was recommended to my
+friendship and counsel in the letter which he brought. The letter
+stated, that a man, by name Amos Watson, by profession a mariner, and a
+resident at Baltimore, had disappeared in the summer of last year, in a
+mysterious and incomprehensible manner. He was known to have arrived in
+this city from Jamaica, and to have intended an immediate journey to his
+family, who lived at Baltimore; but he never arrived there, and no trace
+of his existence has since been discovered. The bearer had come to
+investigate, if possible, the secret of his fate, and I was earnestly
+entreated to afford him all the assistance and advice in my power, in
+the prosecution of his search. I expressed my willingness to serve the
+stranger, whose name was Williams; and, after offering him entertainment
+at my house, which was thankfully accepted, he proceeded to unfold to
+me the particulars of this affair. His story was this.
+
+"'On the 20th of last June, I arrived,' said he, 'from the West Indies,
+in company with Captain Watson. I commanded the ship in which he came as
+a passenger, his own ship being taken and confiscated by the English. We
+had long lived in habits of strict friendship, and I loved him for his
+own sake, as well as because he had married my sister. We landed in the
+morning, and went to dine with Mr. Keysler, since dead, but who then
+lived in Water Street. He was extremely anxious to visit his family,
+and, having a few commissions to perform in the city, which would not
+demand more than a couple of hours, he determined to set out next
+morning in the stage. Meanwhile, I had engagements which required me to
+repair with the utmost expedition to New York. I was scarcely less
+anxious than my brother to reach Baltimore, where my friends also
+reside; but there was an absolute necessity of going eastward. I
+expected, however, to return hither in three days, and then to follow
+Watson home. Shortly after dinner we parted; he to execute his
+commissions, and I to embark in the mail-stage.
+
+"'In the time prefixed I returned. I arrived early in the morning, and
+prepared to depart again at noon. Meanwhile, I called at Keysler's. This
+is an old acquaintance of Watson's and mine; and, in the course of talk,
+he expressed some surprise that Watson had so precipitately deserted his
+house. I stated the necessity there was for Watson's immediate departure
+_southward_, and added, that no doubt my brother had explained this
+necessity.
+
+"'Why, (said Keysler,) it is true, Captain Watson mentioned his
+intention of leaving town early next day; but then he gave me reason to
+expect that he would sup and lodge with me that night, whereas he has
+not made his appearance since. Besides, his trunk was brought to my
+house. This, no doubt, he intended to carry home with him, but here it
+remains still. It is not likely that in the hurry of departure his
+baggage was forgotten. Hence, I inferred that he was still in town, and
+have been puzzling myself these three days with conjectures as to what
+is become of him. What surprises me more is, that, on inquiring among
+the few friends which he has in this city, I find them as ignorant of
+his motions as myself. I have not, indeed, been wholly without
+apprehensions that some accident or other has befallen him.'
+
+"'I was not a little alarmed by this intimation. I went myself,
+agreeably to Keysler's directions, to Watson's friends, and made anxious
+inquiries, but none of them had seen my brother since his arrival. I
+endeavoured to recollect the commissions which he designed to execute,
+and, if possible, to trace him to the spot where he last appeared. He
+had several packets to deliver, one of which was addressed to Walter
+Thetford. Him, after some inquiry, I found out, but unluckily he chanced
+to be in the country. I found, by questioning a clerk, who transacted
+his business in his absence, that a person, who answered the minute
+description which I gave of Watson, had been there on the day on which I
+parted with him, and had left papers relative to the capture of one of
+Thetford's vessels by the English. This was the sum of the information
+he was able to afford me.
+
+"'I then applied to three merchants for whom my brother had letters.
+They all acknowledged the receipt of these letters, but they were
+delivered through the medium of the post-office.
+
+"'I was extremely anxious to reach home. Urgent engagements compelled me
+to go on without delay. I had already exhausted all the means of inquiry
+within my reach, and was obliged to acquiesce in the belief that Watson
+had proceeded homeward at the time appointed, and left, by forgetfulness
+or accident, his trunk behind him. On examining the books kept at the
+stage-offices, his name nowhere appeared, and no conveyance by water had
+occurred during the last week. Still, the only conjecture I could form
+was that he had gone homeward.
+
+"'Arriving at Baltimore, I found that Watson had not yet made his
+appearance. His wife produced a letter, which, by the postmark, appeared
+to have been put into the office at Philadelphia, on the morning after
+our arrival, and on which he had designed to commence his journey. This
+letter had been written by my brother, in my presence, but I had
+dissuaded him from sending it, since the same coach that should bear the
+letter was likewise to carry himself. I had seen him put it unwafered in
+his pocket-book, but this letter, unaltered in any part, and containing
+money which he had at first intended to enclose in it, was now conveyed
+to his wife's hand. In this letter he mentioned his design of setting
+out for Baltimore on the _twenty-first_, yet on that day the letter
+itself had been put into the office.
+
+"'We hoped that a short time would clear up this mystery, and bring the
+fugitive home; but, from that day till the present, no atom of
+intelligence has been received concerning him. The yellow fever, which
+quickly followed, in this city, and my own engagements, have hindered
+me, till now, from coming hither and resuming the search.
+
+"'My brother was one of the most excellent of men. His wife loved him to
+distraction, and, together with his children, depended for subsistence
+upon his efforts. You will not, therefore, be surprised that his
+disappearance excited, in us, the deepest consternation and distress;
+but I have other and peculiar reasons for wishing to know his fate. I
+gave him several bills of exchange on merchants of Baltimore, which I
+had received in payment of my cargo, in order that they might, as soon
+as possible, be presented and accepted. These have disappeared with the
+bearer. There is likewise another circumstance that makes his existence
+of no small value.
+
+"'There is an English family, who formerly resided in Jamaica, and
+possessed an estate of great value, but who, for some years, have lived
+in the neighbourhood of Baltimore. The head of this family died a year
+ago, and left a widow and three daughters. The lady thought it eligible
+to sell her husband's property in Jamaica, the island becoming hourly
+more exposed to the chances of war and revolution, and transfer it to
+the United States, where she purposes henceforth to reside. Watson had
+been her husband's friend, and, his probity and disinterestedness being
+well known, she intrusted him with legal powers to sell this estate.
+This commission was punctually performed, and the purchase-money was
+received. In order to confer on it the utmost possible security, he
+rolled up four bills of exchange, drawn upon opulent, merchants of
+London, in a thin sheet of lead, and, depositing this roll in a leathern
+girdle, fastened it round his waist, and under his clothes; a second set
+he gave to me, and a third he despatched to Mr. Keysler, by a vessel
+which sailed a few days before him. On our arrival in this city, we
+found that Keysler had received those transmitted to him, and which he
+had been charged to keep till our arrival. They were now produced, and,
+together with those which I had carried, were delivered to Watson. By
+him they were joined to those in the girdle, which he still wore,
+conceiving this method of conveyance to be safer than any other, and, at
+the same time, imagining it needless, in so short a journey as remained
+to be performed, to resort to other expedients.
+
+"'The sum which he thus bore about him was no less than ten thousand
+pounds sterling. It constituted the whole patrimony of a worthy and
+excellent family, and the loss of it reduces them to beggary. It is gone
+with Watson, and whither Watson has gone it is impossible even to guess.
+
+"'You may now easily conceive, sir, the dreadful disasters which may be
+connected with this man's fate, and with what immeasurable anxiety his
+family and friends have regarded his disappearance. That he is alive can
+scarcely be believed; for in what situation could he be placed in which
+he would not be able and willing to communicate some tidings of his fate
+to his family?
+
+"'Our grief has been unspeakably aggravated by the suspicions which Mrs.
+Maurice and her friends have allowed themselves to admit. They do not
+scruple to insinuate that Watson, tempted by so great a prize, has
+secretly embarked for England, in order to obtain payment for these
+bills and retain the money for his own use.
+
+"'No man was more impatient of poverty than Watson, but no man's honesty
+was more inflexible. He murmured at the destiny that compelled him to
+sacrifice his ease, and risk his life upon the ocean in order to
+procure the means of subsistence; and all the property which he had
+spent the best part of his life in collecting had just been ravished
+away from him by the English; but, if he had yielded to this temptation
+at any time, it would have been on receiving these bills at Jamaica.
+Instead of coming hither, it would have been infinitely more easy and
+convenient to have embarked directly for London; but none who thoroughly
+knew him can, for a moment, harbour a suspicion of his truth.
+
+"'If he be dead, and if the bills are not to be recovered, yet to
+ascertain this will, at least, serve to vindicate his character. As long
+as his fate is unknown, his fame will be loaded with the most flagrant
+imputations, and, if these bills be ever paid in London, these
+imputations will appear to be justified. If he has been robbed, the
+robber will make haste to secure the payment, and the Maurices may not
+unreasonably conclude that the robber was Watson himself.' Many other
+particulars were added by the stranger, to show the extent of the evils
+flowing from the death of his brother, and the loss of the papers which
+he carried with him.
+
+"I was greatly at a loss," continued Wortley, "what directions or advice
+to afford this man. Keysler, as you know, died early of the pestilence;
+but Keysler was the only resident in this city with whom Williams had
+any acquaintance. On mentioning the propriety of preventing the sale of
+these bills in America, by some public notice, he told me that this
+caution had been early taken; and I now remembered seeing the
+advertisement, in which the bills had been represented as having been
+lost or stolen in this city, and a reward of a thousand dollars was
+offered to any one who should restore them. This caution had been
+published in September, in all the trading-towns from Portsmouth to
+Savannah, but had produced no satisfaction.
+
+"I accompanied Williams to the mayor's office, in hopes of finding in
+the records of his proceedings, during the last six months, some traces
+of Watson; but neither these records nor the memory of the magistrate
+afforded us any satisfaction. Watson's friends had drawn up, likewise,
+a description of the person and dress of the fugitive, an account of the
+incidents attending his disappearance, and of the papers which he had in
+his possession, with the manner in which these papers had been secured.
+These had been already published in the Southern newspapers, and have
+been just reprinted in our own. As the former notice had availed
+nothing, this second expedient was thought necessary to be employed.
+
+"After some reflection, it occurred to me that it might be proper to
+renew the attempt which Williams had made to trace the footsteps of his
+friend to the moment of his final disappearance. He had pursued Watson
+to Thetford's; but Thetford himself had not been seen, and he had been
+contented with the vague information of his clerk. Thetford and his
+family, including his clerk, had perished, and it seemed as if this
+source of information was dried up. It was possible, however, that old
+Thetford might have some knowledge of his nephew's transactions, by
+which some light might chance to be thrown upon this obscurity. I
+therefore called on him, but found him utterly unable to afford me the
+light that I wished. My mention of the packet which Watson had brought
+to Thetford, containing documents respecting the capture of a certain
+ship, reminded him of the injuries which he had received from Welbeck,
+and excited him to renew his menaces and imputations on that wretch.
+Having somewhat exhausted this rhetoric, he proceeded to tell me what
+connection there was between the remembrance of his injuries and the
+capture of this vessel.
+
+"This vessel and its cargo were, in fact, the property of Welbeck. They
+had been sent to a good market, and had been secured by an adequate
+insurance. The value of this ship and cargo, and the validity of the
+policy, he had taken care to ascertain by means of his two nephews, one
+of whom had gone out supercargo. This had formed his inducement to lend
+his three notes to Welbeck, in exchange for three other notes, the whole
+amount of which included the _equitable interest_ of _five per cent. per
+month_ on his own loan. For the payment of these notes he by no means
+relied, as the world foolishly imagined, on the seeming opulence and
+secret funds of Welbeck. These were illusions too gross to have any
+influence on him. He was too old a bird to be decoyed into the net by
+_such_ chaff. No; his nephew, the supercargo, would of course receive
+the produce of the voyage, and so much of this produce as would pay his
+debt he had procured the owner's authority to intercept its passage from
+the pocket of his nephew to that of Welbeck. In case of loss, he had
+obtained a similar security upon the policy. Jamieson's proceedings had
+been the same with his own, and no affair in which he had ever engaged
+had appeared to be more free from hazard than this. Their calculations,
+however, though plausible, were defeated. The ship was taken and
+condemned, for a cause which rendered the insurance ineffectual.
+
+"I bestowed no time in reflecting on this tissue of extortions and
+frauds, and on that course of events which so often disconcerts the
+stratagems of cunning. The names of Welbeck and Watson were thus
+associated together, and filled my thoughts with restlessness and
+suspicion. Welbeck was capable of any weakness. It was possible an
+interview had happened between these men, and that the fugitive had been
+someway instrumental in Watson's fate. These thoughts were mentioned to
+Williams, whom the name of Welbeck threw into the utmost perturbation.
+On finding that one of this name had dwelt in this city, and that he had
+proved a villain, he instantly admitted the most dreary forebodings.
+
+"'I have heard,' said Williams, 'the history of this Welbeck a score of
+times from my brother. There formerly subsisted a very intimate
+connection between them. My brother had conferred, upon one whom he
+thought honest, innumerable benefits; but all his benefits had been
+repaid by the blackest treachery. Welbeck's character and guilt had
+often been made the subject of talk between us, but, on these occasions,
+my brother's placid and patient temper forsook him. His grief for the
+calamities which had sprung from this man, and his desire of revenge,
+burst all bounds, and transported him to a pitch of temporary frenzy. I
+often inquired in what manner he intended to act if a meeting should
+take place between them. He answered, that doubtless he should act like
+a maniac, in defiance of his sober principles, and of the duty which he
+owed his family.
+
+"'What! (said I,) would you stab or pistol him?
+
+"'No. I was not born for an assassin. I would upbraid him in such terms
+as the furious moment might suggest, and then challenge him to a
+meeting, from which either he or I should not part with life. I would
+allow time for him to make his peace with Heaven, and for me to blast
+his reputation upon earth, and to make such provision for my possible
+death as duty and discretion would prescribe.
+
+"'Now, nothing is more probable than that Welbeck and my brother have
+met. Thetford would of course mention his name and interest in the
+captured ship, and hence the residence of this detested being in this
+city would be made known. Their meeting could not take place without
+some dreadful consequence. I am fearful that to that meeting we must
+impute the disappearance of my brother.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+
+"Here was new light thrown upon the character of Welbeck, and new food
+administered to my suspicions. No conclusion could be more plausible
+than that which Williams had drawn; but how should it be rendered
+certain? Walter Thetford, or some of his family, had possibly been
+witnesses of something, which, added to our previous knowledge, might
+strengthen or prolong that clue, one end of which seemed now to be put
+into our hands; but Thetford's father-in-law was the only one of his
+family, who, by seasonable flight from the city, had escaped the
+pestilence. To him, who still resided in the country, I repaired with
+all speed, accompanied by Williams.
+
+"The old man, being reminded, by a variety of circumstances, of the
+incidents of that eventful period, was, at length, enabled to relate
+that he had been present at the meeting which took place between Watson
+and his son Walter, when certain packets were delivered by the former,
+relative, as he quickly understood, to the condemnation of a ship in
+which Thomas Thetford had gone supercargo. He had noticed some emotion
+of the stranger, occasioned by his son's mentioning the concern which
+Welbeck had in the vessel. He likewise remembered the stranger's
+declaring his intention of visiting Welbeck, and requesting Walter to
+afford him directions to his house.
+
+"'Next morning at the breakfast-table,' continued the old man, 'I
+adverted to yesterday's incidents, and asked my son how Welbeck had
+borne the news of the loss of his ship. "He bore it," said Walter, "as a
+man of his wealth ought to bear so trivial a loss. But there was
+something very strange in his behaviour," says my son, "when I mentioned
+the name of the captain who brought the papers; and, when I mentioned
+the captain's design of paying him a visit, he stared upon me, for a
+moment, as if he were frighted out of his wits, and then, snatching up
+his hat, ran furiously out of the house." This was all my son said upon
+that occasion; but, as I have since heard, it was on that very night
+that Welbeck absconded from his creditors.'
+
+"I have this moment returned from this interview with old Thetford. I
+come to you, because I thought it possible that Mervyn, agreeably to
+your expectations, had returned, and I wanted to see the lad once more.
+My suspicions with regard to him have been confirmed, and a warrant was
+this day issued for apprehending him as Welbeck's accomplice."
+
+I was startled by this news. "My friend," said I, "be cautious how you
+act, I beseech you. You know not in what evils you may involve the
+innocent. Mervyn I know to be blameless; but Welbeck is indeed a
+villain. The latter I shall not be sorry to see brought to justice; but
+the former, instead of meriting punishment, is entitled to rewards."
+
+"So you believe, on the mere assertion of the boy, perhaps, his
+plausible lies might produce the same effect upon me; but I must stay
+till he thinks proper to exert his skill. The suspicions to which he is
+exposed will not easily be obviated; but, if he has any thing to say in
+his defence, his judicial examination will afford him the suitable
+opportunity. Why are you so much afraid to subject his innocence to this
+test? It was not till you heard his tale that your own suspicions were
+removed. Allow me the same privilege of unbelief.
+
+"But you do me wrong, in deeming me the cause of his apprehension. It is
+Jamieson and Thetford's work, and they have not proceeded on shadowy
+surmises and the impulses of mere revenge. Facts have come to light of
+which you are wholly unaware, and which, when known to you, will conquer
+even your incredulity as to the guilt of Mervyn."
+
+"Facts? Let me know them, I beseech you. If Mervyn has deceived me,
+there is an end to my confidence in human nature. All limits to
+dissimulation, and all distinctness between vice and virtue, will be
+effaced. No man's word, nor force of collateral evidence, shall weigh
+with me a hair."
+
+"It was time," replied my friend, "that your confidence in smooth
+features and fluent accents should have ended long ago. Till I gained
+from my present profession some knowledge of the world, a knowledge
+which was not gained in a moment, and has not cost a trifle, I was
+equally wise in my own conceit; and, in order to decide upon the truth
+of any one's pretensions, needed only a clear view of his face and a
+distinct hearing of his words. My folly, in that respect, was only to be
+cured, however, by my own experience, and I suppose your credulity will
+yield to no other remedy. These are the facts:--
+
+"Mrs. Wentworth, the proprietor of the house in which Welbeck lived, has
+furnished some intelligence respecting Mervyn, whose truth cannot be
+doubted, and which furnishes the strongest evidence of a conspiracy
+between this lad and his employer. It seems that, some years since, a
+nephew of this lady left his father's family clandestinely, and has not
+been heard of since. This nephew was intended to inherit her fortunes,
+and her anxieties and inquiries respecting him have been endless and
+incessant. These, however, have been fruitless. Welbeck, knowing these
+circumstances, and being desirous of substituting a girl whom he had
+moulded for his purpose, in place of the lost youth, in the affections
+of the lady while living, and in her testament when dead, endeavoured to
+persuade her that the youth had died in some foreign country. For this
+end, Mervyn was to personate a kinsman of Welbeck who had just arrived
+from Europe, and who had been a witness of her nephew's death. A story
+was, no doubt, to be contrived, where truth should be copied with the
+most exquisite dexterity; and, the lady being prevailed upon to believe
+the story, the way was cleared for accomplishing the remainder of the
+plot.
+
+"In due time, and after the lady's mind had been artfully prepared by
+Welbeck, the pupil made his appearance; and, in a conversation full of
+studied ambiguities, assured the lady that her nephew was dead. For the
+present he declined relating the particulars of his death, and displayed
+a constancy and intrepidity in resisting her entreaties that would have
+been admirable in a better cause. Before she had time to fathom this
+painful mystery, Welbeck's frauds were in danger of detection, and he
+and his pupil suddenly disappeared.
+
+"While the plot was going forward, there occurred an incident which the
+plotters had not foreseen or precluded, and which possibly might have
+created some confusion or impediment in their designs. A bundle was
+found one night in the street, consisting of some coarse clothes, and
+containing, in the midst of it, the miniature portrait of Mrs.
+Wentworth's nephew. It fell into the hands of one of that lady's
+friends, who immediately despatched the bundle to her. Mervyn, in his
+interview with this lady, spied the portrait on the mantel-piece. Led by
+some freak of fancy, or some web of artifice, he introduced the talk
+respecting her nephew, by boldly claiming it as his; but, when the mode
+in which it had been found was mentioned, he was disconcerted and
+confounded, and precipitately withdrew.
+
+"This conduct, and the subsequent flight of the lad, afforded ground
+enough to question the truth of his intelligence respecting her nephew;
+but it has since been confuted, in a letter just received from her
+brother in England. In this letter, she is informed that her nephew had
+been seen by one who knew him well, in Charleston; that some intercourse
+took place between the youth and the bearer of the news, in the course
+of which the latter had persuaded the nephew to return to his family,
+and that the youth had given some tokens of compliance. The
+letter-writer, who was father to the fugitive, had written to certain
+friends at Charleston, entreating them to use their influence with the
+runaway to the same end, and, at any rate, to cherish and protect him.
+Thus, I hope you will admit that the duplicity of Mervyn is
+demonstrated."
+
+"The facts which you have mentioned," said I, after some pause, "partly
+correspond with Mervyn's story; but the last particular is
+irreconcilably repugnant to it. Now, for the first time, I begin to feel
+that my confidence is shaken. I feel my mind bewildered and distracted
+by the multitude of new discoveries which have just taken place. I want
+time to revolve them slowly, to weigh them accurately, and to estimate
+their consequences fully. I am afraid to speak; fearing that, in the
+present trouble of my thoughts, I may say something which I may
+afterwards regret, I want a counsellor; but you, Wortley, are unfit for
+the office. Your judgment is unfurnished with the same materials; your
+sufferings have soured your humanity and biassed your candour. The only
+one qualified to divide with me these cares, and aid in selecting the
+best mode of action, is my wife. She is mistress of Mervyn's history; an
+observer of his conduct during his abode with us; and is hindered, by
+her education and temper, from deviating into rigour and malevolence.
+Will you pardon me, therefore, if I defer commenting on your narrative
+till I have had an opportunity of reviewing it and comparing it with my
+knowledge of the lad, collected from himself and from my own
+observation?"
+
+Wortley could not but admit the justice of my request, and, after some
+desultory conversation, we parted. I hastened to communicate to my wife
+the various intelligence which I had lately received. Mrs. Althorpe's
+portrait of the Mervyns contained lineaments which the summary detail of
+Arthur did not enable us fully to comprehend. The treatment which the
+youth is said to have given to his father; the illicit commerce that
+subsisted between him and his father's wife; the pillage of money and
+his father's horse, but ill accorded with the tale which we had heard,
+and disquieted our minds with doubts, though far from dictating our
+belief.
+
+What, however, more deeply absorbed our attention, was the testimony of
+Williams and of Mrs. Wentworth. That which was mysterious and
+inscrutable to Wortley and the friends of Watson was luminous to us. The
+coincidence between the vague hints laboriously collected by these
+inquirers, and the narrative of Mervyn, afforded the most cogent
+attestation of the truth of that narrative.
+
+Watson had vanished from all eyes, but the spot where rested his remains
+was known to us. The girdle spoken of by Williams would not be suspected
+to exist by his murderer. It was unmolested, and was doubtless buried
+with him. That which was so earnestly sought, and which constituted the
+subsistence of the Maurices, would probably be found adhering to his
+body. What conduct was incumbent upon me who possessed this knowledge?
+
+It was just to restore these bills to their true owner; but how could
+this be done without hazardous processes and tedious disclosures? To
+whom ought these disclosures to be made? By what authority or agency
+could these half-decayed limbs be dug up, and the lost treasure be taken
+from amidst the horrible corruption in which it was immersed?
+
+This ought not to be the act of a single individual. This act would
+entangle him in a maze of perils and suspicions, of concealments and
+evasions, from which he could not hope to escape with his reputation
+inviolate. The proper method was through the agency of the law. It is to
+this that Mervyn must submit his conduct. The story which he told to me
+he must tell to the world. Suspicions have fixed themselves upon him,
+which allow him not the privilege of silence and obscurity. While he
+continued unknown and unthought of, the publication of his story would
+only give unnecessary birth to dangers; but now dangers are incurred
+which it may probably contribute to lessen, if not to remove.
+
+Meanwhile the return of Mervyn to the city was anxiously expected. Day
+after day passed, and no tidings were received. I had business of an
+urgent nature which required my presence in Jersey, but which, in the
+daily expectation of the return of my young friend, I postponed a week
+longer than rigid discretion allowed. At length I was obliged to comply
+with the exigence, and left the city, but made such arrangements that I
+should be apprized by my wife of Mervyn's return with all practicable
+expedition.
+
+These arrangements were superfluous, for my business was despatched, and
+my absence at an end, before the youth had given us any tokens of his
+approach. I now remembered the warnings of Wortley, and his assertions
+that Mervyn had withdrawn himself forever from our view. The event had
+hitherto unwelcomely coincided with these predictions, and a thousand
+doubts and misgivings were awakened.
+
+One evening, while preparing to shake off gloomy thoughts by a visit to
+a friend, some one knocked at my door, and left a billet containing
+these words:--
+
+"_Dr. Stevens is requested to come immediately to the Debtors'
+Apartments in Prune Street._"
+
+This billet was without signature. The handwriting was unknown, and the
+precipitate departure of the bearer left me wholly at a loss with
+respect to the person of the writer, or the end for which my presence
+was required. This uncertainty only hastened my compliance with the
+summons.
+
+The evening was approaching,--a time when the prison-doors are
+accustomed to be shut and strangers to be excluded. This furnished an
+additional reason for despatch. As I walked swiftly along, I revolved
+the possible motives that might have prompted this message. A conjecture
+was soon formed, which led to apprehension and inquietude.
+
+One of my friends, by name Carlton, was embarrassed with debts which he
+was unable to discharge. He had lately been menaced with arrest by a
+creditor not accustomed to remit any of his claims. I dreaded that this
+catastrophe had now happened, and called to mind the anguish with which
+this untoward incident would overwhelm his family. I knew his incapacity
+to take away the claim of his creditor by payment, or to soothe him into
+clemency by supplication.
+
+So prone is the human mind to create for itself distress, that I was not
+aware of the uncertainty of this evil till I arrived at the prison. I
+checked myself at the moment when I opened my lips to utter the name of
+my friend, and was admitted without particular inquiries. I supposed
+that he by whom I had been summoned hither would meet me in the common
+room.
+
+The apartment was filled with pale faces and withered forms. The marks
+of negligence and poverty were visible in all; but few betrayed, in
+their features or gestures, any symptoms of concern on account of their
+condition. Ferocious gayety, or stupid indifference, seemed to sit upon
+every brow. The vapour from a heated stove, mingled with the fumes of
+beer and tallow that were spilled upon it, and with the tainted breath
+of so promiscuous a crowd, loaded the stagnant atmosphere. At my first
+transition from the cold and pure air without, to this noxious element,
+I found it difficult to breathe. A moment, however, reconciled me to my
+situation, and I looked anxiously round to discover some face which I
+knew.
+
+Almost every mouth was furnished with a cigar, and every hand with a
+glass of porter. Conversation, carried on with much emphasis of tone and
+gesture, was not wanting. Sundry groups, in different corners, were
+beguiling the tedious hours at whist. Others, unemployed, were strolling
+to and fro, and testified their vacancy of thought and care by humming
+or whistling a tune.
+
+I fostered the hope that my prognostics had deceived me. This hope was
+strengthened by reflecting that the billet received was written in a
+different hand from that of my friend. Meanwhile I continued my search.
+Seated on a bench, silent and aloof from the crowd, his eyes fixed upon
+the floor, and his face half concealed by his hand, a form was at length
+discovered which verified all my conjectures and fears. Carlton was he.
+
+My heart drooped and my tongue faltered at this sight. I surveyed him
+for some minutes in silence. At length, approaching the bench on which
+he sat, I touched his hand and awakened him from his reverie. He looked
+up. A momentary gleam of joy and surprise was succeeded by a gloom
+deeper than before.
+
+It was plain that my friend needed consolation. He was governed by an
+exquisite sensibility to disgrace. He was impatient of constraint. He
+shrunk, with fastidious abhorrence, from the contact of the vulgar and
+the profligate. His constitution was delicate and feeble. Impure airs,
+restraint from exercise, unusual aliment, unwholesome or incommodious
+accommodations, and perturbed thoughts, were, at any time, sufficient to
+generate disease and to deprive him of life.
+
+To these evils he was now subjected. He had no money wherewith to
+purchase food. He had been dragged hither in the morning. He had not
+tasted a morsel since his entrance. He had not provided a bed on which
+to lie; or inquired in what room, or with what companions, the night was
+to be spent.
+
+Fortitude was not among my friend's qualities. He was more prone to
+shrink from danger than encounter it, and to yield to the flood rather
+than sustain it; but it is just to observe that his anguish, on the
+present occasion, arose not wholly from selfish considerations. His
+parents were dead, and two sisters were dependent on him for support.
+One of these was nearly of his own age. The other was scarcely emerged
+from childhood. There was an intellectual as well as a personal
+resemblance between my friend and his sisters. They possessed his
+physical infirmities, his vehement passions, and refinements of taste;
+and the misery of his condition was tenfold increased, by reflecting on
+the feelings which would be awakened in them by the knowledge of his
+state, and the hardships to which the loss of his succour would expose
+them.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+
+It was not in my power to release my friend by the payment of his debt;
+but, by contracting with the keeper of the prison for his board, I could
+save him from famine; and, by suitable exertions, could procure him
+lodging as convenient as the time would admit. I could promise to
+console and protect his sisters, and, by cheerful tones and frequent
+visits, dispel some part of the evil which encompassed him.
+
+After the first surprise had subsided, he inquired by what accident this
+meeting had been produced. Conscious of my incapacity to do him any
+essential service, and unwilling to make me a partaker in his miseries,
+he had forborne to inform me of his condition.
+
+This assurance was listened to with some wonder. I showed him the
+billet. It had not been written by him. He was a stranger to the
+penmanship. None but the attorney and officer were apprized of his fate.
+It was obvious to conclude, that this was the interposition of some
+friend, who, knowing my affection for Carlton, had taken this mysterious
+method of calling me to his succour.
+
+Conjectures as to the author and motives of this inter position were
+suspended by more urgent considerations. I requested an interview with
+the keeper, and inquired how Carlton could be best accommodated.
+
+He said that all his rooms were full but one, which, in consequence of
+the dismission of three persons in the morning, had at present but one
+tenant. This person had lately arrived, was sick, and had with him, at
+this time, one of his friends. Carlton might divide the chamber with
+this person. No doubt his consent would be readily given; though this
+arrangement, being the best, must take place whether he consented or
+not.
+
+This consent I resolved immediately to seek, and, for that purpose,
+desired to be led to the chamber. The door of the apartment was shut. I
+knocked for admission. It was instantly opened, and I entered. The first
+person who met my view was--Arthur Mervyn.
+
+I started with astonishment. Mervyn's countenance betrayed nothing but
+satisfaction at the interview. The traces of fatigue and anxiety gave
+place to tenderness and joy. It readily occurred to me that Mervyn was
+the writer of the note which I had lately received. To meet him within
+these walls, and at this time, was the most remote and undesirable of
+all contingencies. The same hour had thus made me acquainted with the
+kindred and unwelcome fate of two beings whom I most loved.
+
+I had scarcely time to return his embrace, when, taking my hand, he led
+me to a bed that stood in one corner. There was stretched upon it one
+whom a second glance enabled me to call by his name, though I had never
+before seen him. The vivid portrait which Mervyn had drawn was
+conspicuous in the sunken and haggard visage before me. This face had,
+indeed, proportions and lines which could never be forgotten or
+mistaken. Welbeck, when once seen or described, was easily distinguished
+from the rest of mankind. He had stronger motives than other men for
+abstaining from guilt, the difficulty of concealment or disguise being
+tenfold greater in him than in others, by reason of the indelible and
+eye-attracting marks which nature had set upon him.
+
+He was pallid and emaciated. He did not open his eyes on my entrance. He
+seemed to be asleep; but, before I had time to exchange glances with
+Mervyn, or to inquire into the nature of the scene, he awoke. On seeing
+me he started, and cast a look of upbraiding on my companion. The latter
+comprehended his emotion, and endeavoured to appease him.
+
+"This person," said he, "is my friend. He is likewise a physician; and,
+perceiving your state to require medical assistance, I ventured to send
+for him."
+
+Welbeck replied, in a contemptuous and indignant tone, "Thou mistakest
+my condition, boy. My disease lies deeper than his scrutiny will ever
+reach. I had hoped thou wert gone. Thy importunities are well meant, but
+they aggravate my miseries."
+
+He now rose from the bed, and continued, in a firm and resolute tone,
+"You are intruders into this apartment. It is mine, and I desire to be
+left alone."
+
+Mervyn returned, at first, no answer to this address. He was immersed in
+perplexity. At length, raising his eyes from the floor, he said, "My
+intentions are indeed honest, and I am grieved that I want the power of
+persuasion. To-morrow, perhaps, I may reason more cogently with your
+despair, or your present mood may be changed. To aid my own weakness I
+will entreat the assistance of this friend."
+
+These words roused a new spirit in Welbeck. His confusion and anger
+increased. His tongue faltered as he exclaimed, "Good God! what mean
+you? Headlong and rash as you are, you will not share with this person
+your knowledge of me?" Here he checked himself, conscious that the words
+he had already uttered tended to the very end which he dreaded. This
+consciousness, added to the terror of more ample disclosures, which the
+simplicity and rectitude of Mervyn might prompt him to make, chained up
+his tongue, and covered him with dismay.
+
+Mervyn was not long in answering:--"I comprehend your fears and your
+wishes. I am bound to tell you the truth. To this person your story has
+already been told. Whatever I have witnessed under your roof, whatever I
+have heard from your lips, have been faithfully disclosed to him."
+
+The countenance of Welbeck now betrayed a mixture of incredulity and
+horror. For a time his utterance was stifled by his complicated
+feelings:--
+
+"It cannot be. So enormous a deed is beyond thy power. Thy qualities are
+marvellous. Every new act of thine outstrips the last, and belies the
+newest calculations. But this--this perfidy exceeds--this outrage upon
+promises, this violation of faith, this blindness to the future, is
+incredible." There he stopped; while his looks seemed to call upon
+Mervyn for a contradiction of his first assertion.
+
+"I know full well how inexpiably stupid or wicked my act will appear to
+you, but I will not prevaricate or lie. I repeat, that every thing is
+known to him. Your birth; your early fortunes; the incidents at
+Charleston and Wilmington; your treatment of the brother and sister;
+your interview with Watson, and the fatal issue of that interview--I
+have told him all, just as it was told to me."
+
+Here the shock that was felt by Welbeck overpowered his caution and his
+strength. He sunk upon the side of the bed. His air was still
+incredulous, and he continued to gaze upon Mervyn. He spoke in a tone
+less vehement:--
+
+"And hast thou then betrayed me? Hast thou shut every avenue to my
+return to honour? Am I known to be a seducer and assassin? To have
+meditated all crimes, and to have perpetrated the worst?
+
+"Infamy and death are my portion. I know they are reserved for me; but I
+did not think to receive them at thy hands, that under that innocent
+guise there lurked a heart treacherous and cruel. But go; leave me to
+myself. This stroke has exterminated my remnant of hope. Leave me to
+prepare my neck for the halter, and my lips for this last and bitterest
+cup."
+
+Mervyn struggled with his tears, and replied, "All this was foreseen,
+and all this I was prepared to endure. My friend and I will withdraw, as
+you wish; but to-morrow I return; not to vindicate my faith or my
+humanity; not to make you recant your charges, or forgive the faults
+which I seem to have committed, but to extricate you from your present
+evil, or to arm you with fortitude."
+
+So saying, he led the way out of the room. I followed him in silence.
+The strangeness and abruptness of this scene left me no power to assume
+a part in it. I looked on with new and indescribable sensations. I
+reached the street before my recollection was perfectly recovered. I
+then reflected on the purpose that had led me to Welbeck's chamber. This
+purpose was yet unaccomplished. I desired Mervyn to linger a moment
+while I returned into the house. I once more inquired for the keeper,
+and told him I should leave to him the province of acquainting Welbeck
+with the necessity of sharing his apartment with a stranger. I speedily
+rejoined Mervyn in the street.
+
+I lost no time in requiring an explanation of the scene that I had
+witnessed. "How became you once more the companion of Welbeck? Why did
+you not inform me by letter of your arrival at Malverton, and of what
+occurred during your absence? What is the fate of Mr. Hadwin and of
+Wallace?"
+
+"Alas!" said he, "I perceive that, though I have written, you have never
+received my letters. The tale of what has occurred since we parted is
+long and various. I am not only willing but eager to communicate the
+story; but this is no suitable place. Have patience till we reach your
+house. I have involved myself in perils and embarrassments from which I
+depend upon your counsel and aid to release me."
+
+I had scarcely reached my own door, when I was overtaken by a servant,
+whom I knew to belong to the family in which Carlton and his sisters
+resided. Her message, therefore, was readily guessed. She came, as I
+expected, to inquire for my friend, who had left his home in the morning
+with a stranger, and had not yet returned. His absence had occasioned
+some inquietude, and his sister had sent this message to me, to procure
+what information respecting the cause of his detention I was able to
+give.
+
+My perplexity hindered me, for some time, from answering. I was willing
+to communicate the painful truth with my own mouth. I saw the necessity
+of putting an end to her suspense, and of preventing the news from
+reaching her with fallacious aggravations or at an unseasonable time.
+
+I told the messenger that I had just parted with Mr. Carlton, that he
+was well, and that I would speedily come and acquaint his sister with
+the cause of his absence.
+
+Though burning with curiosity respecting Mervyn and Welbeck, I readily
+postponed its gratification till my visit to Miss Carlton was performed.
+I had rarely seen this lady; my friendship for her brother, though
+ardent, having been lately formed, and chiefly matured by interviews at
+my house. I had designed to introduce her to my wife, but various
+accidents had hindered the execution of my purpose. Now consolation and
+counsel were more needed than ever, and delay or reluctance in bestowing
+it would have been, in a high degree, unpardonable.
+
+I therefore parted with Mervyn, requesting him to await my return, and
+promising to perform the engagement which compelled me to leave him,
+with the utmost despatch. On entering Miss Carlton's apartment, I
+assumed an air of as much tranquillity as possible. I found the lady
+seated at a desk, with pen in hand and parchment before her. She greeted
+me with affectionate dignity, and caught from my countenance that
+cheerfulness of which on my entrance she was destitute.
+
+"You come," said she, "to inform me what has made my brother a truant
+to-day. Till your message was received I was somewhat anxious. This day
+he usually spends in rambling through the fields; but so bleak and
+stormy an atmosphere, I suppose, would prevent his excursion. I pray,
+sir, what is it detains him?"
+
+To conquer my embarrassment, and introduce the subject by indirect and
+cautious means, I eluded her question, and, casting an eye at the
+parchment,--"How now?" said I; "this is strange employment for a lady. I
+knew that my friend pursued this trade, and lived by binding fast the
+bargains which others made; but I knew not that the pen was ever usurped
+by his sister."
+
+"The usurpation was prompted by necessity. My brother's impatient temper
+and delicate frame unfitted him for the trade. He pursued it with no
+less reluctance than diligence, devoting to the task three nights in the
+week, and the whole of each day. It would long ago have killed him, had
+I not bethought myself of sharing his tasks. The pen was irksome and
+toilsome at first, but use has made it easy, and far more eligible than
+the needle, which was formerly my only tool.
+
+"This arrangement affords my brother opportunities of exercise and
+recreation, without diminishing our profits; and my time, though not
+less constantly, is more agreeably, as well as more lucratively,
+employed than formerly."
+
+"I admire your reasoning. By this means provision is made against
+untoward accidents. If sickness should disable him, you are qualified to
+pursue the same means of support."
+
+At these words the lady's countenance changed. She put her hand on my
+arm, and said, in a fluttering and hurried accent, "Is my brother sick?"
+
+"No. He is in perfect health. My observation was a harmless one. I am
+sorry to observe your readiness to draw alarming inferences. If I were
+to say that your scheme is useful to supply deficiencies, not only when
+your brother is disabled by sickness, but when thrown, by some inhuman
+creditor, into jail, no doubt you would perversely and hastily infer
+that he is now in prison."
+
+I had scarcely ended the sentence, when the piercing eyes of the lady
+were anxiously fixed upon mine. After a moment's pause, she exclaimed,
+"The inference, indeed, is too plain. I know his fate. It has long been
+foreseen and expected, and I have summoned up my equanimity to meet it.
+Would to Heaven he may find the calamity as light as I should find it!
+but I fear his too irritable spirit."
+
+When her fears were confirmed, she started out into no vehemence of
+exclamation. She quickly suppressed a few tears which would not be
+withheld, and listened to my narrative of what had lately occurred, with
+tokens of gratitude.
+
+Formal consolation was superfluous. Her mind was indeed more fertile
+than my own in those topics which take away its keenest edge from
+affliction. She observed that it was far from being the heaviest
+calamity which might have happened. The creditor was perhaps vincible by
+arguments and supplications. If these should succeed, the disaster would
+not only be removed, but that security from future molestation be
+gained, to which they had for a long time been strangers.
+
+Should he be obdurate, their state was far from being hopeless.
+Carlton's situation allowed him to pursue his profession. His gains
+would be equal, and his expenses would not be augmented. By their mutual
+industry they might hope to amass sufficient to discharge the debt at no
+very remote period.
+
+What she chiefly dreaded was the pernicious influence of dejection and
+sedentary labour on her brother's health. Yet this was not to be
+considered as inevitable. Fortitude might be inspired by exhortation and
+example, and no condition precluded us from every species of bodily
+exertion. The less inclined he should prove to cultivate the means of
+deliverance and happiness within his reach, the more necessary it became
+for her to stimulate and fortify his resolution.
+
+If I were captivated by the charms of this lady's person and carriage,
+my reverence was excited by these proofs of wisdom and energy. I
+zealously promised to concur with her in every scheme she should adopt
+for her own or her brother's advantage; and, after spending some hours
+with her, took my leave.
+
+I now regretted the ignorance in which I had hitherto remained
+respecting this lady. That she was, in an eminent degree, feminine and
+lovely, was easily discovered; but intellectual weakness had been rashly
+inferred from external frailty. She was accustomed to shrink from
+observation, and reserve was mistaken for timidity. I called on Carlton
+only when numerous engagements would allow, and when, by some accident,
+his customary visits had been intermitted. On those occasions, my stay
+was short, and my attention chiefly confined to her brother. I now
+resolved to atone for my ancient negligence, not only by my own
+assiduities, but by those of my wife.
+
+On my return home, I found Mervyn and my wife in earnest discourse. I
+anticipated the shock which the sensibility of the latter would receive
+from the tidings which I had to communicate respecting Carlton. I was
+unwilling, and yet perceived the necessity of disclosing the truth. I
+desired to bring these women, as soon as possible, to the knowledge of
+each other, but the necessary prelude to this was an acquaintance with
+the disaster that had happened.
+
+Scarcely had I entered the room, when Mervyn turned to me, and said,
+with an air of anxiety and impatience, "Pray, my friend, have you any
+knowledge of Francis Carlton?"
+
+The mention of this name by Mervyn produced some surprise. I
+acknowledged my acquaintance with him.
+
+"Do you know in what situation he now is?"
+
+In answer to this question, I stated by what singular means his
+situation had been made known to me, and the purpose from the
+accomplishment of which I had just returned. I inquired in my turn,
+"Whence originated this question?"
+
+He had overheard the name of Carlton in the prison. Two persons were
+communing in a corner, and accident enabled him to catch this name,
+though uttered by them in a half whisper, and to discover that the
+person talked about had lately been conveyed thither.
+
+This name was not now heard for the first time. It was connected with
+remembrances that made him anxious for the fate of him to whom it
+belonged. In discourse with my wife, this name chanced to be again
+mentioned, and his curiosity was roused afresh. I was willing to
+communicate all that I knew, but Mervyn's own destiny was too remarkable
+not to absorb all my attention, and I refused to discuss any other theme
+till that were fully explained. He postponed his own gratification to
+mine, and consented to relate the incidents that had happened from the
+moment of our separation till the present.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+
+At parting with you, my purpose was to reach the abode of the Hadwins as
+speedily as possible. I travelled therefore with diligence. Setting out
+so early, I expected, though on foot, to reach the end of my journey
+before noon. The activity of muscles is no obstacle to thought. So far
+from being inconsistent with intense musing, it is, in my own case,
+propitious to that state of mind.
+
+Probably no one had stronger motives for ardent meditation than I. My
+second journey to the city was prompted by reasons, and attended by
+incidents, that seemed to have a present existence. To think upon them
+was to view, more deliberately and thoroughly, objects and persons that
+still hovered in my sight. Instead of their attributes being already
+seen, and their consequences at an end, it seemed as if a series of
+numerous years and unintermitted contemplation were requisite to
+comprehend them fully, and bring into existence their most momentous
+effects.
+
+If men be chiefly distinguished from each other by the modes in which
+attention is employed, either on external and sensible objects, or
+merely on abstract ideas and the creatures of reflection, I may justly
+claim to be enrolled in the second class. My existence is a series of
+thoughts rather than of motions. Ratiocination and deduction leave my
+senses unemployed. The fulness of my fancy renders my eye vacant and
+inactive. Sensations do not precede and suggest, but follow and are
+secondary to, the acts of my mind.
+
+There was one motive, however, which made me less inattentive to the
+scene that was continually shifting before and without me than I am
+wont to be. The loveliest form which I had hitherto seen was that of
+Clemenza Lodi. I recalled her condition as I had witnessed it, as
+Welbeck had described, and as you had painted it. The past was without
+remedy; but the future was, in some degree, within our power to create
+and to fashion. Her state was probably dangerous. She might already be
+forlorn, beset with temptation or with anguish; or danger might only be
+approaching her, and the worst evils be impending ones.
+
+I was ignorant of her state. Could I not remove this ignorance? Would
+not some benefit redound to her from beneficent and seasonable
+interposition?
+
+You had mentioned that her abode had lately been with Mrs. Villars, and
+that this lady still resided in the country. The residence had been
+sufficiently described, and I perceived that I was now approaching it.
+In a short time I spied its painted roof and five chimneys through an
+avenue of _catalpas_.
+
+When opposite the gate which led into this avenue, I paused. It seemed
+as if this moment were to decide upon the liberty and innocence of this
+being. In a moment I might place myself before her, ascertain her true
+condition, and point out to her the path of honour and safety. This
+opportunity might be the last. Longer delay might render interposition
+fruitless.
+
+But how was I to interpose? I was a stranger to her language, and she
+was unacquainted with mine. To obtain access to her, it was necessary
+only to demand it. But how should I explain my views and state my wishes
+when an interview was gained? And what expedient was it in my power to
+propose?
+
+"Now," said I, "I perceive the value of that wealth which I have been
+accustomed to despise. The power of eating and drinking, the nature and
+limits of existence and physical enjoyment, are not changed or enlarged
+by the increase of wealth. Our corporeal and intellectual wants are
+supplied at little expense; but our own wants are the wants of others,
+and that which remains, after our own necessities are obviated, it is
+always easy and just to employ in relieving the necessities of others.
+
+"There are no superfluities in my store. It is not in my power to supply
+this unfortunate girl with decent raiment and honest bread. I have no
+house to which to conduct her. I have no means of securing her from
+famine and cold.
+
+"Yet, though indigent and feeble, I am not destitute of friends and of
+home. Cannot she be admitted to the same asylum to which I am now
+going?" This thought was sudden and new. The more it was revolved, the
+more plausible it seemed. This was not merely the sole expedient, but
+the best that could have been suggested.
+
+The Hadwins were friendly, hospitable, unsuspicious. Their board, though
+simple and uncouth, was wholesome and plenteous. Their residence was
+sequestered and obscure, and not obnoxious to impertinent inquiries and
+malignant animadversion. Their frank and ingenuous temper would make
+them easy of persuasion, and their sympathies were prompt and
+overflowing.
+
+"I am nearly certain," continued I, "that they will instantly afford
+protection to this desolate girl. Why shall I not anticipate their
+consent, and present myself to their embraces and their welcomes in her
+company?"
+
+Slight reflection showed me that this precipitation was improper.
+Whether Wallace had ever arrived at Malverton, whether Mr. Hadwin had
+escaped infection, whether his house were the abode of security and
+quiet, or a scene of desolation, were questions yet to be determined.
+The obvious and best proceeding was to hasten forward, to afford the
+Hadwins, if in distress, the feeble consolations of my friendship; or,
+if their state were happy, to procure their concurrence to my scheme
+respecting Clemenza.
+
+Actuated by these considerations, I resumed my journey. Looking forward,
+I perceived a chaise and horse standing by the left-hand fence, at the
+distance of some hundred yards. This object was not uncommon or strange,
+and, therefore, it was scarcely noticed. When I came near, however,
+methought I recognised in this carriage the same in which my
+importunities had procured a seat for the languishing Wallace, in the
+manner which I have formerly related.
+
+It was a crazy vehicle and old-fashioned. When once seen it could
+scarcely be mistaken or forgotten. The horse was held by his bridle to a
+post, but the seat was empty. My solicitude with regard to Wallace's
+destiny, of which he to whom the carriage belonged might possibly afford
+me some knowledge, made me stop and reflect on what measures it was
+proper to pursue.
+
+The rider could not be at a great distance from this spot. His absence
+would probably be short. By lingering a few minutes an interview might
+be gained, and the uncertainty and suspense of some hours be thereby
+precluded. I therefore waited, and the same person whom I had formerly
+encountered made his appearance, in a short time, from under a copse
+that skirted the road.
+
+He recognised me with more difficulty than attended my recognition of
+him. The circumstances, however, of our first meeting were easily
+recalled to his remembrance. I eagerly inquired when and where he had
+parted with the youth who had been, on that occasion, intrusted to his
+care.
+
+He answered that, on leaving the city and inhaling the purer air of the
+fields and woods, Wallace had been, in a wonderful degree, invigorated
+and refreshed. An instantaneous and total change appeared to have been
+wrought in him. He no longer languished with fatigue or fear, but became
+full of gayety and talk.
+
+The suddenness of this transition; the levity with which he related and
+commented on his recent dangers and evils, excited the astonishment of
+his companion, to whom he not only communicated the history of his
+disease, but imparted many anecdotes of a humorous kind. Some of these
+my companion repeated. I heard them with regret and dissatisfaction.
+They betokened a mind vitiated by intercourse with the thoughtless and
+depraved of both sexes, and particularly with infamous and profligate
+women.
+
+My companion proceeded to mention that Wallace's exhilaration lasted but
+for a short time, and disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. He
+was seized with deadly sickness, and insisted upon leaving the carriage,
+whose movements shocked his stomach and head to an insupportable degree.
+His companion was not void of apprehensions on his own account, but was
+unwilling to desert him, and endeavoured to encourage him. His efforts
+were vain. Though the nearest house was at the distance of some hundred
+yards, and though it was probable that the inhabitants of this house
+would refuse to accommodate one in his condition, yet Wallace could not
+be prevailed on to proceed; and, in spite of persuasion and
+remonstrance, left the carriage and threw himself on the grassy bank
+beside the road.
+
+This person was not unmindful of the hazard which he incurred by contact
+with a sick man. He conceived himself to have performed all that was
+consistent with duty to himself and to his family; and Wallace,
+persisting in affirming that, by attempting to ride farther, he should
+merely hasten his death, was at length left to his own guidance.
+
+These were unexpected and mournful tidings. I had fondly imagined that
+his safety was put beyond the reach of untoward accidents. Now, however,
+there was reason to suppose him to have perished by a lingering and
+painful disease, rendered fatal by the selfishness of mankind, by the
+want of seasonable remedies, and exposure to inclement airs. Some
+uncertainty, however, rested on his fate. It was my duty to remove it,
+and to carry to the Hadwins no mangled and defective tale. Where, I
+asked, had Wallace and his companion parted?
+
+It was about three miles farther onward. The spot, and the house within
+view from the spot, were accurately described. In this house it was
+possible that Wallace had sought an asylum, and some intelligence
+respecting him might be gained from its inhabitants. My informant was
+journeying to the city, so that we were obliged to separate.
+
+In consequence of this man's description of Wallace's deportment, and
+the proofs of a dissolute and thoughtless temper which he had given, I
+began to regard his death as an event less deplorable. Such a one was
+unworthy of a being so devoutly pure, so ardent in fidelity and
+tenderness, as Susan Hadwin. If he loved, it was probable that, in
+defiance of his vows, he would seek a different companion. If he adhered
+to his first engagements, his motives would be sordid, and the
+disclosure of his latent defects might produce more exquisite misery to
+his wife than his premature death or treacherous desertion.
+
+The preservation of this man was my sole motive for entering the
+infected city, and subjecting my own life to the hazards from which my
+escape may almost be esteemed miraculous. Was not the end
+disproportioned to the means? Was there arrogance in believing my life a
+price too great to be given for his?
+
+I was not, indeed, sorry for the past. My purpose was just, and the
+means which I selected were the best my limited knowledge supplied. My
+happiness should be drawn from reflecting on the equity of my
+intentions. That these intentions were frustrated by the ignorance of
+others, or my own, was the consequence of human frailty. Honest
+purposes, though they may not bestow happiness on others, will, at
+least, secure it to him who fosters them.
+
+By these reflections my regrets were dissipated, and I prepared to
+rejoice alike, whether Wallace should be found to have escaped or to
+have perished. The house to which I had been directed was speedily
+brought into view. I inquired for the master or mistress of the mansion,
+and was conducted to a lady of a plain and housewifely appearance.
+
+My curiosity was fully gratified. Wallace, whom my description easily
+identified, had made his appearance at her door on the evening of the
+day on which he left the city. The dread of _the fever_ was descanted on
+with copious and rude eloquence. I supposed her eloquence on this theme
+to be designed to apologize to me for her refusing entrance to the sick
+man. The peroration, however, was different. Wallace was admitted, and
+suitable attention paid to his wants.
+
+Happily, the guest had nothing to struggle with but extreme weakness.
+Repose, nourishing diet, and salubrious airs restored him in a short
+time to health. He lingered under this roof for three weeks, and then,
+without any professions of gratitude, or offers of pecuniary
+remuneration, or information of the course which he determined to take,
+he left them.
+
+These facts, added to that which I had previously known, threw no
+advantageous light upon the character of Wallace. It was obvious to
+conclude that he had gone to Malverton, and thither there was nothing to
+hinder me from following him.
+
+Perhaps one of my grossest defects is a precipitate temper. I choose my
+path suddenly, and pursue it with impetuous expedition. In the present
+instance, my resolution was conceived with unhesitating zeal, and I
+walked the faster that I might the sooner execute it. Miss Hadwin
+deserved to be happy. Love was in her heart the all-absorbing sentiment.
+A disappointment there was a supreme calamity. Depravity and folly must
+assume the guise of virtue before it can claim her affection. This
+disguise might be maintained for a time, but its detection must
+inevitably come, and the sooner this detection takes place the more
+beneficial it must prove.
+
+I resolved to unbosom myself, with equal and unbounded confidence, to
+Wallace and his mistress. I would choose for this end, not the moment
+when they were separate, but that in which they were together. My
+knowledge, and the sources of my knowledge, relative to Wallace, should
+be unfolded to the lady with simplicity and truth. The lover should be
+present, to confute, to extenuate, or to verify the charges.
+
+During the rest of the day these images occupied the chief place in my
+thoughts. The road was miry and dark, and my journey proved to be more
+tedious and fatiguing than I expected. At length, just as the evening
+closed, the well-known habitation appeared in view. Since my departure,
+winter had visited the world, and the aspect of nature was desolate and
+dreary. All around this house was vacant, negligent, forlorn. The
+contrast between these appearances and those which I had noticed on my
+first approach to it, when the ground and the trees were decked with
+the luxuriance and vivacity of summer, was mournful, and seemed to
+foretoken ill. My spirits drooped as I noticed the general inactivity
+and silence.
+
+I entered, without warning, the door that led into the parlour. No face
+was to be seen or voice heard. The chimney was ornamented, as in summer,
+with evergreen shrubs. Though it was now the second month of frost and
+snow, fire did not appear to have been lately kindled on this hearth.
+
+This was a circumstance from which nothing good could be deduced. Had
+there been those to share its comforts who had shared them on former
+years, this was the place and hour at which they commonly assembled. A
+door on one side led, through a narrow entry, into the kitchen. I opened
+this door, and passed towards the kitchen.
+
+No one was there but an old man, squatted in the chimney-corner. His
+face, though wrinkled, denoted undecayed health and an unbending spirit.
+A homespun coat, leathern breeches wrinkled with age, and blue yarn
+hose, were well suited to his lean and shrivelled form. On his right
+knee was a wooden bowl, which he had just replenished from a pipkin of
+hasty pudding still smoking on the coals; and in his left hand a spoon,
+which he had, at that moment, plunged into a bottle of molasses that
+stood beside him.
+
+This action was suspended by my entrance. He looked up and exclaimed,
+"Heyday! who's this that comes into other people's houses without so
+much as saying 'by your leave'? What's thee business? Who's thee want?"
+
+I had never seen this personage before. I supposed it to be some new
+domestic, and inquired for Mr. Hadwin.
+
+"Ah!" replied he, with a sigh, "William Hadwin. Is it him thee wants?
+Poor man! He is gone to rest many days since."
+
+My heart sunk within me at these tidings. "Dead!" said I; "do you mean
+that he is dead?"--This exclamation was uttered in a tone of some
+vehemence. It attracted the attention of some one who was standing
+without, who immediately entered the kitchen. It was Eliza Hadwin. The
+moment she beheld me she shrieked aloud, and, rushing into my arms,
+fainted away.
+
+The old man dropped his bowl; and, starting from his seat, stared
+alternately at me and at the breathless girl. My emotion, made up of
+joy, and sorrow, and surprise, rendered me for a moment powerless as
+she. At length he said, "I understand this. I know who thee is, and will
+tell her thee's come." So saying, he hastily left the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+
+In a short time this gentle girl recovered her senses. She did not
+withdraw herself from my sustaining arm, but, leaning on my bosom, she
+resigned herself to passionate weeping. I did not endeavour to check
+this effusion, believing that its influence would be salutary.
+
+I had not forgotten the thrilling sensibility and artless graces of this
+girl. I had not forgotten the scruples which had formerly made me check
+a passion whose tendency was easily discovered. These new proofs of her
+affection were, at once, mournful and delightful. The untimely fate of
+her father and my friend pressed with new force upon my heart, and my
+tears, in spite of my fortitude, mingled with hers.
+
+The attention of both was presently attracted by a faint scream, which
+proceeded from above. Immediately tottering footsteps were heard in the
+passage, and a figure rushed into the room, pale, emaciated, haggard,
+and wild. She cast a piercing glance at me, uttered a feeble
+exclamation, and sunk upon the floor without signs of life.
+
+It was not difficult to comprehend this scene. I now conjectured, what
+subsequent inquiry confirmed, that the old man had mistaken me for
+Wallace, and had carried to the elder sister the news of his return.
+This fatal disappointment of hopes that had nearly been extinct, and
+which were now so powerfully revived, could not be endured by a frame
+verging to dissolution.
+
+This object recalled all the energies of Eliza, and engrossed all my
+solicitude. I lifted the fallen girl in my arms; and, guided by her
+sister, carried her to her chamber. I had now leisure to contemplate the
+changes which a few months had made in this lovely frame. I turned away
+from the spectacle with anguish, but my wandering eyes were recalled by
+some potent fascination, and fixed in horror upon a form which evinced
+the last stage of decay. Eliza knelt on one side, and, leaning her face
+upon the bed, endeavoured in vain to smother her sobs. I sat on the
+other motionless, and holding the passive and withered hand of the
+sufferer.
+
+I watched with ineffable solicitude the return of life. It returned at
+length, but merely to betray symptoms that it would speedily depart
+forever. For a time my faculties were palsied, and I was made an
+impotent spectator of the ruin that environed me. This pusillanimity
+quickly gave way to resolutions and reflections better suited to the
+exigencies of the time.
+
+The first impulse was to summon a physician; but it was evident that the
+patient had been sinking by slow degrees to this state, and that the
+last struggle had begun. Nothing remained but to watch her while
+expiring, and perform for her, when dead, the rites of interment. The
+survivor was capable of consolation and of succour. I went to her and
+drew her gently into another apartment. The old man, tremulous and
+wonder-struck, seemed anxious to perform some service. I directed him to
+kindle a fire in Eliza's chamber. Meanwhile I persuaded my gentle friend
+to remain in this chamber, and resign to me the performance of every
+office which her sister's condition required. I sat beside the bed of
+the dying till the mortal struggle was past.
+
+I perceived that the house had no inhabitant besides the two females and
+the old man. I went in search of the latter, and found him crouched, as
+before, at the kitchen-fire, smoking his pipe. I placed myself on the
+same bench, and entered into conversation with him.
+
+I gathered from him that he had, for many years, been Mr. Hadwin's
+servant. That lately he had cultivated a small farm in this
+neighbourhood for his own advantage. Stopping one day in October, at the
+tavern, he heard that his old master had lately been in the city, had
+caught _the fever_, and after his return had died with it. The moment he
+became sick, his servants fled from the house, and the neighbours
+refused to approach it. The task of attending his sick-bed was allotted
+to his daughters, and it was by their hands that his grave was dug and
+his body covered with earth. The same terror of infection existed after
+his death as before, and these hapless females were deserted by all
+mankind.
+
+Old Caleb was no sooner informed of these particulars, than he hurried
+to the house, and had since continued in their service. His heart was
+kind, but it was easily seen that his skill extended only to execute the
+directions of another. Grief for the death of Wallace and her father
+preyed upon the health of the eldest daughter. The younger became her
+nurse, and Caleb was always at hand to execute any orders the
+performance of which was on a level with his understanding. Their
+neighbours had not withheld their good offices, but they were still
+terrified and estranged by the phantoms of pestilence.
+
+During the last week Susan had been too weak to rise from her bed; yet
+such was the energy communicated by the tidings that Wallace was alive,
+and had returned, that she leaped upon her feet and rushed down-stairs.
+How little did that man deserve so strenuous and immortal an affection!
+
+I would not allow myself to ponder on the sufferings of these women. I
+endeavoured to think only of the best expedients for putting an end to
+these calamities. After a moment's deliberation I determined to go to a
+house at some miles' distance; the dwelling of one who, though not
+exempt from the reigning panic, had shown more generosity towards these
+unhappy girls than others. During my former abode in this district, I
+had ascertained his character, and found him to be compassionate and
+liberal.
+
+Overpowered by fatigue and watching, Eliza was no sooner relieved, by my
+presence, of some portion of her cares, than she sunk into profound
+slumber. I directed Caleb to watch the house till my return, which
+should be before midnight, and then set out for the dwelling of Mr.
+Ellis.
+
+The weather was temperate and moist, and rendered the footing of the
+meadows extremely difficult. The ground, that had lately been frozen and
+covered with snow, was now changed into gullies and pools, and this was
+no time to be fastidious in the choice of paths. A brook, swelled by the
+recent _thaw_, was likewise to be passed. The rail which I had formerly
+placed over it by way of bridge had disappeared, and I was obliged to
+wade through it. At length I approached the house to which I was going.
+
+At so late an hour, farmers and farmers' servants are usually abed, and
+their threshold is intrusted to their watch-dogs. Two belonged to Mr.
+Ellis, whose ferocity and vigilance were truly formidable to a stranger;
+but I hoped that in me they would recognise an old acquaintance, and
+suffer me to approach. In this I was not mistaken. Though my person
+could not be distinctly seen by starlight, they seemed to scent me from
+afar, and met me with a thousand caresses.
+
+Approaching the house, I perceived that its tenants were retired to
+their repose. This I expected, and hastened to awaken Mr. Ellis, by
+knocking briskly at the door. Presently he looked out of a window above,
+and, in answer to his inquiries, in which impatience at being so
+unseasonably disturbed was mingled with anxiety, I told him my name, and
+entreated him to come down and allow me a few minutes' conversation. He
+speedily dressed himself, and, opening the kitchen door, we seated
+ourselves before the fire.
+
+My appearance was sufficiently adapted to excite his wonder; he had
+heard of my elopement from the house of Mr. Hadwin, he was a stranger to
+the motives that prompted my departure, and to the events that had
+befallen me, and no interview was more distant from his expectations
+than the present. His curiosity was written in his features, but this
+was no time to gratify his curiosity. The end that I now had in view was
+to procure accommodation for Eliza Hadwin in this man's house. For this
+purpose it was my duty to describe, with simplicity and truth, the
+inconveniences which at present surrounded her, and to relate all that
+had happened since my arrival.
+
+I perceived that my tale excited his compassion, and I continued with
+new zeal to paint to him the helplessness of this girl. The death of
+her father and sister left her the property of this farm. Her sex and
+age disqualified her for superintending the harvest-field and the
+threshing-floor; and no expedient was left but to lease the land to
+another, and, taking up her abode in the family of some kinsman or
+friend, to subsist, as she might easily do, upon the rent. Meanwhile her
+continuance in this house was equally useless and dangerous, and I
+insinuated to my companion the propriety of immediately removing her to
+his own.
+
+Some hesitation and reluctance appeared in him, which I immediately
+ascribed to an absurd dread of infection. I endeavoured, by appealing to
+his reason as well as to his pity, to conquer this dread. I pointed out
+the true cause of the death of the elder daughter, and assured him the
+youngest knew no indisposition but that which arose from distress. I
+offered to save him from any hazard that might attend his approaching
+the house, by accompanying her hither myself. All that her safety
+required was that his doors should not be shut against her when she
+presented herself before them.
+
+Still he was fearful and reluctant; and, at length, mentioned that her
+uncle resided not more than sixteen miles farther; that he was her
+natural protector, and, he dared to say, would find no difficulty in
+admitting her into his house. For his part, there might be reason in
+what I said, but he could not bring himself to think but that there was
+still some danger of _the fever_. It was right to assist people in
+distress, to-be-sure; but to risk his own life he did not think to be
+his duty. He was no relation of the family, and it was the duty of
+relations to help each other. Her uncle was the proper person to assist
+her, and no doubt he would be as willing as able.
+
+The marks of dubiousness and indecision which accompanied these words
+encouraged me in endeavouring to subdue his scruples. The increase of
+his aversion to my scheme kept pace with my remonstrances, and he
+finally declared that he would, on no account, consent to it.
+
+Ellis was by no means hard of heart. His determination did not prove the
+coldness of his charity, but merely the strength of his fears. He was
+himself an object more of compassion than of anger; and he acted like
+the man whose fear of death prompts him to push his companion from the
+plank which saved him from drowning, but which is unable to sustain
+both. Finding him invincible to my entreaties, I thought upon the
+expedient which he suggested of seeking the protection of her uncle. It
+was true that the loss of parents had rendered her uncle her legal
+protector. His knowledge of the world; his house and property and
+influence, would, perhaps, fit him for this office in a more eminent
+degree than I was fitted. To seek a different asylum might, indeed, be
+unjust to both; and, after some reflection, I not only dismissed the
+regret which Ellis's refusal had given me, but even thanked him for the
+intelligence and counsel which he had afforded me. I took leave of him,
+and hastened back to Hadwin's.
+
+Eliza, by Caleb's report, was still asleep. There was no urgent
+necessity for awakening her; but something was forthwith to be done with
+regard to the unhappy girl that was dead. The proceeding incumbent on us
+was obvious. All that remained was to dig a grave, and to deposit the
+remains with as much solemnity and decency as the time would permit.
+There were two methods of doing this. I might wait till the next day;
+till a coffin could be made and conveyed hither; till the woman, whose
+trade it was to make and put on the habiliments assigned by custom to
+the dead, could be sought out and hired to attend; till kindred,
+friends, and neighbours could be summoned to the obsequies; till a
+carriage were provided to remove the body to a burying-ground, belonging
+to a meeting-house, and five miles distant; till those whose trade it
+was to dig graves had prepared one, within the sacred enclosure, for her
+reception; or, neglecting this toilsome, tedious, and expensive
+ceremonial, I might seek the grave of Hadwin, and lay the daughter by
+the side of her parent.
+
+Perhaps I was strong in my preference of the latter mode. The customs of
+burial may, in most cases, be in themselves proper. If the customs be
+absurd, yet it may be generally proper to adhere to them; but doubtless
+there are cases in which it is our duty to omit them. I conceived the
+present case to be such a one.
+
+The season was bleak and inclement. Much time, labour, and expense would
+be required to go through the customary rites. There was none but myself
+to perform these, and I had not the suitable means. The misery of Eliza
+would only be prolonged by adhering to these forms, and her fortune be
+needlessly diminished by the expenses unavoidably to be incurred.
+
+After musing upon these ideas for some time, I rose from my seat, and
+desired Caleb to follow me. We proceeded to an outer shed where farmers'
+tools used to be kept. I supplied him and myself with a spade, and
+requested him to lead me to the spot where Mr. Hadwin was laid.
+
+He betrayed some hesitation to comply, and appeared struck with some
+degree of alarm, as if my purpose had been to molest, instead of
+securing, the repose of the dead. I removed his doubts by explaining my
+intentions; but he was scarcely less shocked, on discovering the truth,
+than he had been alarmed by his first suspicions. He stammered out his
+objections to my scheme. There was but one mode of burial, he thought,
+that was decent and proper, and he could not be free to assist me in
+pursuing any other mode.
+
+Perhaps Caleb's aversion to the scheme might have been easily overcome;
+but I reflected that a mind like his was at once flexible and obstinate.
+He might yield to arguments and entreaties, and act by their immediate
+impulse; but the impulse passed away in a moment, old and habitual
+convictions were resumed, and his deviation from the beaten track would
+be merely productive of compunction. His aid, on the present occasion,
+though of some use, was by no means indispensable. I forbore to solicit
+his concurrence, or even to vanquish the scruples he entertained against
+directing me to the grave of Hadwin. It was a groundless superstition
+that made one spot more suitable for this purpose than another. I
+desired Caleb, in a mild tone, to return to the kitchen, and leave me to
+act as I thought proper. I then proceeded to the orchard.
+
+One corner of this field was somewhat above the level of the rest. The
+tallest tree of the group grew there, and there I had formerly placed a
+bench, and made it my retreat at periods of leisure. It had been
+recommended by its sequestered situation, its luxuriant verdure, and
+profound quiet. On one side was a potato-field, on the other a
+_melon-patch_; and before me, in rows, some hundreds of apple-trees.
+Here I was accustomed to seek the benefits of contemplation and study
+the manuscripts of Lodi. A few months had passed since I had last
+visited this spot. What revolutions had since occurred, and how gloomily
+contrasted was my present purpose with what had formerly led me hither!
+
+In this spot I had hastily determined to dig the grave of Susan. The
+grave was dug. All that I desired was a cavity of sufficient dimensions
+to receive her. This being made, I returned to the house, lifted the
+corpse in my arms, and bore it without delay to the spot. Caleb, seated
+in the kitchen, and Eliza, asleep in her chamber, were wholly unapprized
+of my motions. The grave was covered, the spade reposited under the
+shed, and my seat by the kitchen-fire resumed in a time apparently too
+short for so solemn and momentous a transaction.
+
+I look back upon this incident with emotions not easily described. It
+seems as if I acted with too much precipitation; as if insensibility,
+and not reason, had occasioned that clearness of conceptions, and
+bestowed that firmness of muscles, which I then experienced. I neither
+trembled nor wavered in my purpose. I bore in my arms the being whom I
+had known and loved, through the whistling gale and intense darkness of
+a winter's night; I heaped earth upon her limbs, and covered them from
+human observation, without fluctuations or tremors, though not without
+feelings that were awful and sublime.
+
+Perhaps some part of my steadfastness was owing to my late experience,
+and some minds may be more easily inured to perilous emergencies than
+others. If reason acquires strength only by the diminution of
+sensibility, perhaps it is just for sensibility to be diminished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+
+The safety of Eliza was the object that now occupied my cares. To have
+slept, after her example, had been most proper; but my uncertainty with
+regard to her fate, and my desire to conduct her to some other home,
+kept my thoughts in perpetual motion. I waited with impatience till she
+should awake and allow me to consult with her on plans for futurity.
+
+Her sleep terminated not till the next day had arisen. Having recovered
+the remembrance of what had lately happened, she inquired for her
+sister. She wanted to view once more the face and kiss the lips of her
+beloved Susan. Some relief to her anguish she expected to derive from
+this privilege.
+
+When informed of the truth, when convinced that Susan had disappeared
+forever, she broke forth into fresh passion. It seemed as if her loss
+was not hopeless or complete as long as she was suffered to behold the
+face of her friend and to touch her lips. She accused me of acting
+without warrant and without justice; of defrauding her of her dearest
+and only consolation; and of treating her sister's sacred remains with
+barbarous indifference and rudeness.
+
+I explained in the gentlest terms the reasons of my conduct. I was not
+surprised or vexed that she, at first, treated them as futile, and as
+heightening my offence. Such was the impulse of a grief which was
+properly excited by her loss. To be tranquil and steadfast, in the midst
+of the usual causes of impetuosity and agony, is either the prerogative
+of wisdom that sublimes itself above all selfish considerations, or the
+badge of giddy and unfeeling folly.
+
+The torrent was at length exhausted. Upbraiding was at an end; and
+gratitude, and tenderness, and implicit acquiescence in any scheme which
+my prudence should suggest, succeeded. I mentioned her uncle as one to
+whom it would be proper, in her present distress, to apply.
+
+She started and betrayed uneasiness at this name. It was evident that
+she by no means concurred with me in my notions of propriety; that she
+thought with aversion of seeking her uncle's protection. I requested her
+to state her objections to this scheme, or to mention any other which
+she thought preferable.
+
+She knew nobody. She had not a friend in the world but myself. She had
+never been out of her father's house. She had no relation but her uncle
+Philip, and he--she could not live with him. I must not insist upon her
+going to his house. It was not the place for her. She should never be
+happy there.
+
+I was, at first, inclined to suspect in my friend some capricious and
+groundless antipathy. I desired her to explain what in her uncle's
+character made him so obnoxious. She refused to be more explicit, and
+persisted in thinking that his house was no suitable abode for her.
+
+Finding her, in this respect, invincible, I sought for some other
+expedient. Might she not easily be accommodated as a boarder in the
+city, or some village, or in a remote quarter of the country? Ellis, her
+nearest and most opulent neighbour, had refused to receive her; but
+there were others who had not his fears. There were others, within the
+compass of a day's journey, who were strangers to the cause of Hadwin's
+death; but would it not be culpable to take advantage of that ignorance?
+Their compliance ought not to be the result of deception.
+
+While thus engaged, the incidents of my late journey recurred to my
+remembrance, and I asked, "Is not the honest woman, who entertained
+Wallace, just such a person as that of whom I am in search? Her
+treatment of Wallace shows her to be exempt from chimerical fears,
+proves that she has room in her house for an occasional inmate."
+
+Encouraged by these views, I told my weeping companion that I had
+recollected a family in which she would be kindly treated; and that, if
+she chose, we would not lose a moment in repairing thither. Horses,
+belonging to the farm, grazed in the meadows, and a couple of these
+would carry us in a few hours to the place which I had selected for her
+residence. On her eagerly assenting to this proposal, I inquired in
+whose care, and in what state, our present habitation should be left.
+
+The father's property now belonged to the daughter. Eliza's mind was
+quick, active, and sagacious; but her total inexperience gave her
+sometimes the appearance of folly. She was eager to fly from this house,
+and to resign herself and her property, without limitation or condition,
+to my control. Our intercourse had been short, but she relied on my
+protection and counsel as absolutely as she had been accustomed to do
+upon her father's.
+
+She knew not what answer to make to my inquiry. Whatever I pleased to do
+was the best. What did I think ought to be done?
+
+"Ah!" thought I, "sweet, artless, and simple girl! how wouldst thou have
+fared, if Heaven had not sent me to thy succour? There are beings in the
+world who would make a selfish use of thy confidence; who would beguile
+thee at once of innocence and property. Such am not I. Thy welfare is a
+precious deposit, and no father or brother could watch over it with more
+solicitude than I will do."
+
+I was aware that Mr. Hadwin might have fixed the destination of his
+property, and the guardianship of his daughters, by will. On suggesting
+this to my friend, it instantly reminded her of an incident that took
+place after his last return from the city. He had drawn up his will, and
+gave it into Susan's possession, who placed it in a drawer, whence it
+was now taken by my friend.
+
+By this will his property was now found to be bequeathed to his two
+daughters; and his brother, Philip Hadwin, was named executor, and
+guardian to his daughters till they should be twenty years old. This
+name was no sooner heard by my friend, than she exclaimed, in a tone of
+affright, "Executor! My uncle! What is that? What power does that give
+him?"
+
+"I know not exactly the power of executors. He will, doubtless, have
+possession of your property till you are twenty years of age. Your
+person will likewise be under his care till that time."
+
+"Must he decide where I am to live?"
+
+"He is vested with all the power of a father."
+
+This assurance excited the deepest consternation. She fixed her eyes on
+the ground, and was lost, for a time, in the deepest reverie.
+Recovering, at length, she said, with a sigh, "What if my father had
+made no will?"
+
+"In that case, a guardian could not be dispensed with, but the right of
+naming him would belong to yourself."
+
+"And my uncle would have nothing to do with my affairs?"
+
+"I am no lawyer," said I; "but I presume all authority over your person
+and property would devolve upon the guardian of your own choice."
+
+"Then I am free." Saying this, with a sudden motion, she tore in several
+pieces the will, which, during this dialogue, she had held in her hand,
+and threw the fragments into the fire.
+
+No action was more unexpected to me than this. My astonishment hindered
+me from attempting to rescue the paper from the flames. It was consumed
+in a moment. I was at a loss in what manner to regard this sacrifice. It
+denoted a force of mind little in unison with that simplicity and
+helplessness which this girl had hitherto displayed. It argued the
+deepest apprehensions of mistreatment from her uncle. Whether his
+conduct had justified this violent antipathy, I had no means of judging.
+Mr. Hadwin's choice of him, as his executor, was certainly one proof of
+his integrity.
+
+My abstraction was noticed by Eliza with visible anxiety. It was plain
+that she dreaded the impression which this act of seeming temerity had
+made upon me. "Do not be angry with me," said she; "perhaps I have been
+wrong, but I could not help it. I will have but one guardian and one
+protector."
+
+The deed was irrevocable. In my present ignorance of the domestic
+history of the Hadwins, I was unqualified to judge how far circumstances
+might extenuate or justify the act. On both accounts, therefore, it was
+improper to expatiate upon it.
+
+It was concluded to leave the care of the house to honest Caleb; to
+fasten closets and drawers, and, carrying away the money which was found
+in one of them, and which amounted to no inconsiderable sum, to repair
+to the house formerly mentioned. The air was cold; a heavy snow began to
+fall in the night; the wind blew tempestuously; and we were compelled to
+confront it.
+
+In leaving her dwelling, in which she had spent her whole life, the
+unhappy girl gave way afresh to her sorrow. It made her feeble and
+helpless. When placed upon the horse, she was scarcely able to maintain
+her seat. Already chilled by the cold, blinded by the drifting snow, and
+cut by the blast, all my remonstrances were needed to inspire her with
+resolution.
+
+I am not accustomed to regard the elements, or suffer them to retard or
+divert me from any design that I have formed. I had overlooked the weak
+and delicate frame of my companion, and made no account of her being
+less able to support cold and fatigue than myself. It was not till we
+had made some progress in our way, that I began to view, in their true
+light, the obstacles that were to be encountered. I conceived it,
+however, too late to retreat, and endeavoured to push on with speed.
+
+My companion was a skilful rider, but her steed was refractory and
+unmanageable. She was able, however, to curb his spirit till we had
+proceeded ten or twelve miles from Malverton. The wind and the cold
+became too violent to be longer endured, and I resolved to stop at the
+first house which should present itself to my view, for the sake of
+refreshment and warmth.
+
+We now entered a wood of some extent, at the termination of which I
+remembered that a dwelling stood. To pass this wood, therefore, with
+expedition, was all that remained before we could reach a hospitable
+asylum. I endeavoured to sustain, by this information, the sinking
+spirits of my companion. While busy in conversing with her, a blast of
+irresistible force twisted off the highest branch of a tree before us.
+It fell in the midst of the road, at the distance of a few feet from her
+horse's head. Terrified by this accident, the horse started from the
+path, and, rushing into the wood, in a moment threw himself and his
+rider on the ground, by encountering the rugged stock of an oak.
+
+I dismounted and flew to her succour. The snow was already dyed with the
+blood which flowed from some wound in her head, and she lay without
+sense or motion. My terrors did not hinder me from anxiously searching
+for the hurt which was received, and ascertaining the extent of the
+injury. Her forehead was considerably bruised; but, to my unspeakable
+joy, the blood flowed from the nostrils, and was, therefore, to be
+regarded as no mortal symptom.
+
+I lifted her in my arms, and looked around me for some means of relief.
+The house at which I proposed to stop was upwards of a mile distant. I
+remembered none that was nearer. To place the wounded girl on my own
+horse, and proceed gently to the house in question, was the sole
+expedient; but, at present, she was senseless, and might, on recovering,
+be too feeble to sustain her own weight.
+
+To recall her to life was my first duty; but I was powerless, or
+unacquainted with the means. I gazed upon her features, and endeavoured,
+by pressing her in my arms, to inspire her with some warmth. I looked
+towards the road, and listened for the wished-for sound of some carriage
+that might be prevailed on to stop and receive her. Nothing was more
+improbable than that either pleasure or business would induce men to
+encounter so chilling and vehement a blast. To be lighted on by some
+traveller was, therefore, a hopeless event.
+
+Meanwhile, Eliza's swoon continued, and my alarm increased. What effect
+her half-frozen blood would have in prolonging this condition, or
+preventing her return to life, awakened the deepest apprehensions. I
+left the wood, still bearing her in my arms, and re-entered the road,
+from the desire of descrying, as soon as possible, the coming passenger.
+I looked this way and that, and again listened. Nothing but the sweeping
+blast, rent and fallen branches, and snow that filled and obscured the
+air, were perceivable. Each moment retarded the course of my own blood
+and stiffened my sinews, and made the state of my companion more
+desperate. How was I to act? To perish myself, or see her perish, was an
+ignoble fate; courage and activity were still able to avert it. My horse
+stood near, docile and obsequious; to mount him and to proceed on my
+way, holding my lifeless burden in my arms, was all that remained.
+
+At this moment my attention was called by several voices issuing from
+the wood. It was the note of gayety and glee. Presently a sleigh, with
+several persons of both sexes, appeared, in a road which led through the
+forest into that in which I stood. They moved at a quick pace, but their
+voices were hushed, and they checked the speed of their horses, on
+discovering us. No occurrence was more auspicious than this; for I
+relied with perfect confidence on the benevolence of these persons, and,
+as soon as they came near, claimed their assistance.
+
+My story was listened to with sympathy, and one of the young men,
+leaping from the sleigh, assisted me in placing Eliza in the place which
+he had left. A female, of sweet aspect and engaging manners, insisted
+upon turning back and hastening to the house, where it seems her father
+resided, and which the party had just left. I rode after the sleigh,
+which in a few minutes arrived at the house. The dwelling was spacious
+and neat, and a venerable man and woman, alarmed by the quick return of
+the young people, came forth to know the cause. They received their
+guest with the utmost tenderness, and provided her with all the
+accommodations which her condition required. Their daughter relinquished
+the scheme of pleasure in which she had been engaged, and, compelling
+her companions to depart without her, remained to nurse and console the
+sick.
+
+A little time showed that no lasting injury had been suffered.
+Contusions, more troublesome than dangerous, and easily curable by such
+applications as rural and traditional wisdom has discovered, were the
+only consequences of the fall. My mind, being relieved from
+apprehensions on this score, had leisure to reflect upon the use which
+might be made of the present state of things.
+
+When I remarked the structure of this house, and the features and
+deportment of its inhabitants, methought I discerned a powerful
+resemblance between this family and Hadwin's. It seemed as if some
+benignant power had led us hither as to the most suitable asylum that
+could be obtained; and, in order to supply to the forlorn Eliza the
+place of those parents and that sister she had lost, I conceived that,
+if their concurrence could be gained, no abode was more suitable than
+this. No time was to be lost in gaining this concurrence. The curiosity
+of our host and hostess, whose name was Curling, speedily afforded me an
+opportunity to disclose the history and real situation of my friend.
+There were no motives to reserve or prevarication. There was nothing
+which I did not faithfully and circumstantially relate. I concluded with
+stating my wishes that they would admit my friend as a boarder into
+their house.
+
+The old man was warm in his concurrence. His wife betrayed some
+scruples; which, however, her husband's arguments and mine removed. I
+did not even suppress the tenor and destruction of the will, and the
+antipathy which Eliza had conceived for her uncle, and which I declared
+myself unable to explain. It presently appeared that Mr. Curling had
+some knowledge of Philip Hadwin, and that the latter had acquired the
+repute of being obdurate and profligate. He employed all means to
+accomplish his selfish ends, and would probably endeavour to usurp the
+property which his brother had left. To provide against his power and
+his malice would be particularly incumbent on us, and my new friend
+readily promised his assistance in the measures which we should take to
+that end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+
+The state of my feelings may be easily conceived to consist of mixed,
+but, on the whole, of agreeable, sensations. The death of Hadwin and his
+elder daughter could not be thought upon without keen regrets. These it
+was useless to indulge, and were outweighed by reflections on the
+personal security in which the survivor was now placed. It was hurtful
+to expend my unprofitable cares upon the dead, while there existed one
+to whom they could be of essential benefit, and in whose happiness they
+would find an ample compensation.
+
+This happiness, however, was still incomplete. It was still exposed to
+hazard, and much remained to be done before adequate provision was made
+against the worst of evils, poverty. I now found that Eliza, being only
+fifteen years old, stood in need of a guardian, and that the forms of
+law required that some one should make himself her father's
+administrator. Mr. Curling, being tolerably conversant with these
+subjects, pointed out the mode to be pursued, and engaged to act on this
+occasion as Eliza's friend.
+
+There was another topic on which my happiness, as well as that of my
+friend, required us to form some decision. I formerly mentioned, that,
+during my abode at Malverton, I had not been insensible to the
+attractions of this girl. An affection had stolen upon me, for which it
+was easily discovered that I should not have been denied a suitable
+return. My reasons for stifling these emotions, at that time, have been
+mentioned. It may now be asked, what effect subsequent events had
+produced on my feelings, and how far partaking and relieving her
+distresses had revived a passion which may readily be supposed to have
+been, at no time, entirely extinguished.
+
+The impediments which then existed were removed. Our union would no
+longer risk the resentment or sorrow of her excellent parent. She had no
+longer a sister to divide with her the property of the farm, and make
+what was sufficient for both, when living together, too little for
+either separately. Her youth and simplicity required, beyond most
+others, a legal protector, and her happiness was involved in the success
+of those hopes which she took no pains to conceal.
+
+As to me, it seemed at first view as if every incident conspired to
+determine my choice. Omitting all regard to the happiness of others, my
+own interest could not fail to recommend a scheme by which the precious
+benefits of competence and independence might be honestly obtained. The
+excursions of my fancy had sometimes carried me beyond the bounds
+prescribed by my situation, but they were, nevertheless, limited to that
+field to which I had once some prospect of acquiring a title. All I
+wanted for the basis of my gaudiest and most dazzling structures was a
+hundred acres of plough-land and meadow. Here my spirit of improvement,
+my zeal to invent and apply new maxims of household luxury and
+convenience, new modes and instruments of tillage, new arts connected
+with orchard, garden, and cornfield, were supplied with abundant scope.
+Though the want of these would not benumb my activity, or take away
+content, the possession would confer exquisite and permanent enjoyments.
+
+My thoughts have ever hovered over the images of wife and children with
+more delight than over any other images. My fancy was always active on
+this theme, and its reveries sufficiently ecstatic and glowing; but,
+since my intercourse with this girl, my scattered visions were collected
+and concentrated. I had now a form and features before me; a sweet and
+melodious voice vibrated in my ear; my soul was filled, as it were, with
+her lineaments and gestures, actions and looks. All ideas, possessing
+any relation to beauty or sex, appeared to assume this shape. They kept
+an immovable place in my mind, they diffused around them an ineffable
+complacency. Love is merely of value as a prelude to a more tender,
+intimate, and sacred union. Was I not in love? and did I not pant after
+the irrevocable bounds, the boundless privileges, of wedlock?
+
+The question which others might ask, I have asked myself:--Was I not in
+love? I am really at a loss for an answer. There seemed to be
+irresistible weight in the reasons why I should refuse to marry, and
+even forbear to foster love in my friend. I considered my youth, my
+defective education, and my limited views. I had passed from my cottage
+into the world. I had acquired, even in my transient sojourn among the
+busy haunts of men, more knowledge than the lucubrations and employments
+of all my previous years had conferred. Hence I might infer the
+childlike immaturity of my understanding, and the rapid progress I was
+still capable of making. Was this an age to form an irrevocable
+contract; to choose the companion of my future life, the associate of my
+schemes of intellectual and benevolent activity?
+
+I had reason to contemn my own acquisitions; but were not those of Eliza
+still more slender? Could I rely upon the permanence of her equanimity
+and her docility to my instructions? What qualities might not time
+unfold, and how little was I qualified to estimate the character of one
+whom no vicissitude or hardship had approached before the death of her
+father,--whose ignorance was, indeed, great, when it could justly be
+said even to exceed my own!
+
+Should I mix with the world, enroll myself in different classes of
+society, be a witness to new scenes; might not my modes of judging
+undergo essential variations? Might I not gain the knowledge of beings
+whose virtue was the gift of experience and the growth of knowledge? who
+joined to the modesty and charms of woman the benefits of education, the
+maturity and steadfastness of age, and with whose character and
+sentiments my own would be much more congenial than they could possibly
+be with the extreme youth, rustic simplicity, and mental imperfections
+of Eliza Hadwin?
+
+To say truth, I was now conscious of a revolution in my mind. I can
+scarcely assign its true cause. No tokens of it appeared during my late
+retreat to Malverton. Subsequent incidents, perhaps, joined with the
+influence of meditation, had generated new views. On my first visit to
+the city, I had met with nothing but scenes of folly, depravity, and
+cunning. No wonder that the images connected with the city were
+disastrous and gloomy; but my second visit produced somewhat different
+impressions. Maravegli, Estwick, Medlicote, and you, were beings who
+inspired veneration and love. Your residence appeared to beautify and
+consecrate this spot, and gave birth to an opinion that, if cities are
+the chosen seats of misery and vice, they are likewise the soil of all
+the laudable and strenuous productions of mind.
+
+My curiosity and thirst of knowledge had likewise received a new
+direction. Books and inanimate nature were cold and lifeless
+instructors. Men, and the works of men, were the objects of rational
+study, and our own eyes only could communicate just conceptions of human
+performances. The influence of manners, professions, and social
+institutions, could be thoroughly known only by direct inspection.
+
+Competence, fixed property and a settled abode, rural occupations and
+conjugal pleasures, were justly to be prized; but their value could be
+known and their benefits fully enjoyed only by those who have tried all
+scenes; who have mixed with all classes and ranks; who have partaken of
+all conditions; and who have visited different hemispheres and climates
+and nations. The next five or eight years of my life should be devoted
+to activity and change; it should be a period of hardship, danger, and
+privation; it should be my apprenticeship to fortitude and wisdom, and
+be employed to fit me for the tranquil pleasures and steadfast exertions
+of the remainder of my life.
+
+In consequence of these reflections, I determined to suppress that
+tenderness which the company of Miss Hadwin produced, to remove any
+mistakes into which she had fallen, and to put it out of my power to
+claim for her more than the dues of friendship. All ambiguities, in a
+case like this, and all delays, were hurtful. She was not exempt from
+passion, but this passion, I thought, was young, and easily
+extinguished.
+
+In a short time her health was restored, and her grief melted down into
+a tender melancholy. I chose a suitable moment, when not embarrassed by
+the presence of others, to reveal my thoughts. My disclosure was
+ingenuous and perfect. I laid before her the whole train of my thoughts,
+nearly in the order, though in different and more copious terms than
+those, in which I have just explained them to you. I concealed nothing.
+The impression which her artless loveliness had made upon me at
+Malverton; my motives for estranging myself from her society; the nature
+of my present feelings with regard to her, and my belief of the state of
+her heart; the reasonings into which I had entered; the advantages of
+wedlock and its inconveniences; and, finally, the resolution I had
+formed of seeking the city, and, perhaps, of crossing the ocean, were
+minutely detailed.
+
+She interrupted me not, but changing looks, blushes, flutterings, and
+sighs, showed her to be deeply and variously affected by my discourse. I
+paused for some observation or comment. She seemed conscious of my
+expectation, but had no power to speak. Overpowered, at length, by her
+emotions, she burst into tears.
+
+I was at a loss in what manner to construe these symptoms. I waited till
+her vehemence was somewhat subsided, and then said, "What think you of
+my schemes? Your approbation is of some moment: do you approve of them
+or not?"
+
+This question excited some little resentment, and she answered, "You
+have left me nothing to say. Go, and be happy; no matter what becomes of
+me. I hope I shall be able to take care of myself."
+
+The tone in which this was said had something in it of upbraiding. "Your
+happiness," said I, "is too dear to me to leave it in danger. In this
+house you will not need my protection, but I shall never be so far from
+you as to be disabled from hearing how you fare, by letter, and of being
+active for your good. You have some money, which you must husband well.
+Any rent from your farm cannot be soon expected; but what you have got,
+if you remain with Mr. Curling, will pay your board and all other
+expenses for two years; but you must be a good economist. I shall
+expect," continued I, with a serious smile, "a punctual account of all
+your sayings and doings. I must know how every minute is employed and
+every penny is expended, and, if I find you erring, I must tell you so
+in good round terms."
+
+These words did not dissipate the sullenness which her looks had
+betrayed. She still forbore to look at me, and said, "I do not know how
+I should tell you every thing. You care so little about me that--I
+should only be troublesome. I am old enough to think and act for myself,
+and shall advise with nobody but myself."
+
+"That is true," said I. "I shall rejoice to see you independent and
+free. Consult your own understanding, and act according to its dictates.
+Nothing more is wanting to make you useful and happy. I am anxious to
+return to the city, but, if you will allow me, will go first to
+Malverton, see that things are in due order, and that old Caleb is well.
+From thence, if you please, I will call at your uncle's, and tell him
+what has happened. He may, otherwise, entertain pretensions and form
+views erroneous in themselves and injurious to you. He may think himself
+entitled to manage your estate. He may either suppose a will to have
+been made, or may actually have heard from your father, or from others,
+of that which you burnt, and in which he was named executor. His
+boisterous and sordid temper may prompt him to seize your house and
+goods, unless seasonably apprized of the truth; and, when he knows the
+truth, he may start into rage, which I shall be more fitted to encounter
+than you. I am told that anger transforms him into a ferocious madman.
+Shall I call upon him?"
+
+She shuddered at the picture which I had drawn of her uncle's character;
+but this emotion quickly gave place to self-upbraiding for the manner in
+which she had repelled my proffers of service. She melted once more into
+tears, and exclaimed,--
+
+"I am not worthy of the pains you take for me. I am unfeeling and
+ungrateful. Why should I think ill of you for despising me, when I
+despise myself?"
+
+"You do yourself injustice, my friend. I think I see your most secret
+thoughts; and these, instead of exciting anger or contempt, only awaken
+compassion and tenderness. You love; and must, therefore, conceive my
+conduct to be perverse and cruel. I counted on your harbouring such
+thoughts. Time only and reflection will enable you to see my motives in
+their true light. Hereafter you will recollect my words, and find them
+sufficient to justify my conduct. You will acknowledge the propriety of
+my engaging in the cares of the world before I sit down in retirement
+and ease."
+
+"Ah! how much you mistake me! I admire and approve of your schemes. What
+angers and distresses me is, that you think me unworthy to partake of
+your cares and labours; that you regard my company as an obstacle and
+encumbrance; that assistance and counsel must all proceed from you; and
+that no scene is fit for me, but what you regard as slothful and
+inglorious.
+
+"Have I not the same claims to be wise, and active, and courageous, as
+you? If I am ignorant and weak, do I not owe it to the same cause that
+has made you so? and will not the same means which promote your
+improvement be likewise useful to me? You desire to obtain knowledge, by
+travelling and conversing with many persons, and studying many sciences;
+but you desire it for yourself alone. Me you think poor, weak, and
+contemptible; fit for nothing but to spin and churn. Provided I exist,
+am screened from the weather, have enough to eat and drink, you are
+satisfied. As to strengthening my mind and enlarging my knowledge, these
+things are valuable to you, but on me they are thrown away. I deserve
+not the gift."
+
+This strain, simple and just as it was, was wholly unexpected. I was
+surprised and disconcerted. In my previous reasonings I had certainly
+considered her sex as utterly unfitting her for those scenes and
+pursuits to which I had destined myself. Not a doubt of the validity of
+my conclusion had insinuated itself; but now my belief was shaken,
+though it was not subverted. I could not deny that human ignorance was
+curable by the same means in one sex as in the other; that fortitude
+and skill were of no less value to one than to the other.
+
+Questionless, my friend was rendered, by her age and inexperience, if
+not by sex, more helpless and dependent than I; but had I not been prone
+to overrate the difficulties which I should encounter? Had I not deemed
+unjustly of her constancy and force of mind? Marriage would render her
+property joint, and would not compel me to take up my abode in the
+woods, to abide forever in one spot, to shackle my curiosity, or limit
+my excursions.
+
+But marriage was a contract awful and irrevocable. Was this the woman
+with whom my reason enjoined me to blend my fate, without the power of
+dissolution? Would not time unfold qualities in her which I did not at
+present suspect, and which would evince an incurable difference in our
+minds? Would not time lead me to the feet of one who more nearly
+approached that standard of ideal excellence which poets and romancers
+had exhibited to my view?
+
+These considerations were powerful and delicate. I knew not in what
+terms to state them to my companion, so as to preclude the imputation of
+arrogance or indecorum. It became me, however, to be explicit, and to
+excite her resentment rather than mislead her judgment. She collected my
+meaning from a few words, and, interrupting me, said,--
+
+"How very low is the poor Eliza in your opinion! We are, indeed, both
+too young to be married. May I not see you, and talk with you, without
+being your wife? May I not share your knowledge, relieve your cares, and
+enjoy your confidence, as a sister might do? May I not accompany you in
+your journeys and studies, as one friend accompanies another? My
+property may be yours; you may employ it for your benefit and mine; not
+because you are my husband, but my friend. You are going to the city.
+Let me go along with you. Let me live where you live. The house that is
+large enough to hold you will hold me. The fare that is good enough for
+you will be luxury to me. Oh! let it be so, will you?
+
+"You cannot think how studious, how thoughtful, how inquisitive, I will
+be. How tenderly I will nurse you when sick! it is possible you may be
+sick, you know, and, no one in the world will be half so watchful and
+affectionate as I shall be. Will you let me?"
+
+In saying this, her earnestness gave new pathos to her voice. Insensibly
+she put her face close to mine, and, transported beyond the usual bounds
+of reserve by the charms of that picture which her fancy contemplated,
+she put her lips to my cheek, and repeated, in a melting accent, "Will
+you let me?"
+
+You, my friends, who have not seen Eliza Hadwin, cannot conceive what
+effect this entreaty was adapted to produce in me. She has surely the
+sweetest voice, the most speaking features, and most delicate symmetry,
+that ever woman possessed. Her guileless simplicity and tenderness made
+her more enchanting. To be the object of devotion to a heart so fervent
+and pure was, surely, no common privilege. Thus did she tender me
+herself; and was not the gift to be received with eagerness and
+gratitude?
+
+No. I was not so much a stranger to mankind as to acquiesce in this
+scheme. As my sister or my wife, the world would suffer us to reside
+under the same roof; to apply to common use the same property; and daily
+to enjoy the company of each other; but she was not my sister, and
+marriage would be an act of the grossest indiscretion. I explained to
+her, in few words, the objections to which her project was liable.
+
+"Well, then," said she, "let me live in the next house, in the
+neighbourhood, or, at least, in the same city. Let me be where I may see
+you once a day, or once a week, or once a month. Shut me not wholly from
+your society, and the means of becoming, in time, less ignorant and
+foolish than I now am."
+
+After a pause, I replied, "I love you too well not to comply with this
+request. Perhaps the city will be as suitable a residence as any other
+for you, as it will, for some time, be most convenient to me. I shall be
+better able to watch over your welfare, and supply you with the means of
+improvement, when you are within a small distance. At present, you must
+consent to remain here, while I visit your uncle, and afterwards go to
+the city. I shall look out for you a suitable lodging, and inform you
+when it is found. If you then continue in the same mind, I will come,
+and, having gained the approbation of Mr. Curling, will conduct you to
+town." Here ended our dialogue.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+
+Though I had consented to this scheme, I was conscious that some hazards
+attended it. I was afraid of calumny, which might trouble the peace or
+destroy the reputation of my friend. I was afraid of my own weakness,
+which might be seduced into an indiscreet marriage by the charms or
+sufferings of this bewitching creature. I felt that there was no price
+too dear to save her from slander. A fair fame is of the highest
+importance to a young female, and the loss of it but poorly supplied by
+the testimony of her own conscience. I had reason for tenfold solicitude
+on this account, since I was her only protector and friend. Hence, I
+cherished some hopes that time might change her views, and suggest less
+dangerous schemes. Meanwhile, I was to lose no time in visiting
+Malverton and Philip Hadwin.
+
+About ten days had elapsed since we had deserted Malverton. These were
+days of successive storms, and travelling had been rendered
+inconvenient. The weather was now calm and clear, and, early in the
+morning that ensued the dialogue which I have just related, I set out on
+horseback.
+
+Honest Caleb was found eating his breakfast nearly in the spot where he
+had been first discovered. He answered my inquiries by saying, that, two
+days after our departure, several men had come to the house, one of whom
+was Philip Hadwin. They had interrogated him as to the condition of the
+farm, and the purpose of his remaining on it. William Hadwin they knew
+to have been some time dead; but where were the girls, his daughters?
+
+Caleb answered that Susy, the eldest, was likewise dead.
+
+These tidings excited astonishment. When died she, and how, and where
+was she buried?
+
+It happened two days before, and she was buried, he believed, but could
+not tell where.
+
+Not tell where? By whom, then, was she buried?
+
+Really, he could not tell. Some strange man came there just as she was
+dying. He went to the room, and, when she was dead, took her away, but
+what he did with the body was more than he could say, but he had a
+notion that he buried it. The man stayed till the morning, and then went
+off with Lizzy, leaving him to keep house by himself. He had not seen
+either of them, nor, indeed, a single soul since.
+
+This was all the information that Caleb could afford the visitants. It
+was so lame and incredible that they began to charge the man with
+falsehood, and to threaten him with legal animadversion. Just then Mr.
+Ellis entered the house, and, being made acquainted with the subject of
+discourse, told all that he himself knew. He related the midnight visit
+which I had paid him, explained my former situation in the family, and
+my disappearance in September. He stated the advice he had given me to
+carry Eliza to her uncle's, and my promise to comply with his counsel.
+The uncle declared he had seen nothing of his niece, and Caleb added,
+that, when she set out, she took the road that led to town.
+
+These hints afforded grounds for much conjecture and suspicion. Ellis
+now mentioned some intelligence that he had gathered respecting me in a
+late journey to ----. It seems I was the son of an honest farmer in that
+quarter, who married a tidy girl of a milkmaid that lived with him. My
+father had detected me in making some atrocious advances to my
+mother-in-law, and had turned me out of doors. I did not go off,
+however, without rifling his drawer of some hundreds of dollars, which
+he had laid up against a rainy day. I was noted for such pranks, and was
+hated by all the neighbours for my pride and laziness. It was easy, by
+comparison of circumstances, for Ellis to ascertain that Hadwin's
+servant Mervyn was the same against whom such heavy charges were laid.
+
+Previously to this journey, he had heard of me from Hadwin, who was loud
+in praise of my diligence, sobriety, and modesty. For his part, he had
+always been cautious of giving countenance to vagrants that came from
+nobody knew where, and worked their way with a plausible tongue. He was
+not surprised to hear it whispered that Betsy Hadwin had fallen in love
+with the youth, and now, no doubt, he had persuaded her to run away with
+him. The heiress of a fine farm was a prize not to be met with every
+day.
+
+Philip broke into rage at this news; swore that if it turned out so, his
+niece should starve upon the town, and that he would take good care to
+balk the lad. His brother he well knew had left a will, to which he was
+executor, and that this will would in good time be forthcoming. After
+much talk and ransacking the house, and swearing at his truant niece, he
+and his company departed, charging Caleb to keep the house and its
+contents for his use. This was all that Caleb's memory had retained of
+that day's proceedings.
+
+Curling had lately commented on the character of Philip Hadwin. This man
+was totally unlike his brother, was a noted brawler and bully, a tyrant
+to his children, a plague to his neighbours, and kept a rendezvous for
+drunkards and idlers, at the sign of the Bull's Head, at ----. He was
+not destitute of parts, and was no less dreaded for cunning than
+malignity. He was covetous, and never missed an opportunity of
+overreaching his neighbour. There was no doubt that his niece's property
+would be embezzled should it ever come into his hands, and any power
+which he might obtain over her person would be exercised to her
+destruction. His children were tainted with the dissoluteness of their
+father, and marriage had not repaired the reputation of his daughters,
+or cured them of depravity: this was the man whom I now proposed to
+visit.
+
+I scarcely need to say that the calumny of Betty Lawrence gave me no
+uneasiness. My father had no doubt been deceived, as well as my father's
+neighbours, by the artifices of this woman. I passed among them for a
+thief and a profligate, but their error had hitherto been harmless to
+me. The time might come which should confute the tale without my
+efforts. Betty, sooner or later, would drop her mask, and afford the
+antidote to her own poisons, unless some new incident should occur to
+make me hasten the catastrophe.
+
+I arrived at Hadwin's house. I was received with some attention as a
+guest. I looked, among the pimpled visages that filled the piazza, for
+that of the landlord, but found him in an inner apartment with two or
+three more seated round a table. On intimating my wish to speak with him
+alone, the others withdrew.
+
+Hadwin's visage had some traces of resemblance to his brother; but the
+meek, placid air, pale cheeks, and slender form of the latter were
+powerfully contrasted with the bloated arrogance, imperious brow, and
+robust limbs of the former. This man's rage was awakened by a straw; it
+impelled him in an instant to oaths and buffetings, and made his life an
+eternal brawl. The sooner my interview with such a personage should be
+at an end, the better. I therefore explained the purpose of my coming as
+fully and in as few words as possible.
+
+"Your name, sir, is Philip Hadwin. Your brother William, of Malverton,
+died lately and left two daughters. The youngest only is now alive, and
+I come, commissioned from her, to inform you that, as no will of her
+father's is extant, she is preparing to administer to his estate. As her
+father's brother, she thought you entitled to this information."
+
+The change which took place in the countenance of this man, during this
+address, was remarkable, but not easily described. His cheeks contracted
+a deeper crimson, his eyes sparkled, and his face assumed an expression
+in which curiosity was mingled with rage. He bent forward, and said, in
+a hoarse and contemptuous tone, "Pray, is your name Mervyn?"
+
+I answered, without hesitation, and as if the question were wholly
+unimportant, "Yes; my name is Mervyn."
+
+"God damn it! You then are the damned rascal"--(but permit me to repeat
+his speech without the oaths with which it was plentifully interlarded.
+Not three words were uttered without being garnished with a--"God damn
+it!" "damnation!" "I'll be damned to hell if"--and the like energetic
+expletives.) "You then are the rascal that robbed Billy's house; that
+ran away with the fool his daughter; persuaded her to burn her father's
+will, and have the hellish impudence to come into this house! But I
+thank you for it. I was going to look for you; you've saved me trouble.
+I'll settle all accounts with you here. Fair and softly, my good lad! If
+I don't bring you to the gallows--If I let you escape without such a
+dressing! Damned impudence! Fellow! I've been at Malverton. I've heard
+of your tricks. So! finding the will not quite to your mind, knowing
+that the executor would balk your schemes, you threw the will into the
+fire; you robbed the house of all the cash, and made off with the
+girl!--The old fellow saw it all, and will swear to the truth."
+
+These words created some surprise. I meant not to conceal from this man
+the tenor and destruction of the will, nor even the measures which his
+niece had taken or intended to take. What I supposed to be unknown to
+him appeared to have been communicated by the talkative Caleb, whose
+mind was more inquisitive and less sluggish than first appearances had
+led me to imagine. Instead of moping by the kitchen-fire when Eliza and
+I were conversing in an upper room, it now appeared that he had
+reconnoitred our proceedings through some keyhole or crevice, and had
+related what he had seen to Hadwin.
+
+Hadwin proceeded to exhaust his rage in oaths and menaces. He frequently
+clenched his fist and thrust it in my face, drew it back as if to render
+his blow more deadly; ran over the same series of exclamations on my
+impudence and villany, and talked of the gallows and the whipping-post;
+enforced each word by the epithets _damnable_ and _hellish_; closed each
+sentence with--"and be curst to you!"
+
+There was but one mode for me to pursue; all forcible opposition to a
+man of his strength was absurd. It was my province to make his anger
+confine itself to words, and patiently to wait till the paroxysm should
+end or subside of itself. To effect this purpose, I kept my seat, and
+carefully excluded from my countenance every indication of timidity and
+panic on the one hand, and of scorn and defiance on the other. My look
+and attitude were those of a man who expected harsh words, but who
+entertained no suspicion that blows would be inflicted.
+
+I was indebted for my safety to an inflexible adherence to this medium.
+To have strayed, for a moment, to either side, would have brought upon
+me his blows. That he did not instantly resort to violence inspired me
+with courage, since it depended on myself whether food should be
+supplied to his passion. Rage must either progress or decline; and,
+since it was in total want of provocation, it could not fail of
+gradually subsiding.
+
+My demeanour was calculated to damp the flame, not only by its direct
+influence, but by diverting his attention from the wrongs which he had
+received, to the novelty of my behaviour. The disparity in size and
+strength between us was too evident to make him believe that I confided
+in my sinews for my defence; and, since I betrayed neither contempt nor
+fear, he could not but conclude that I trusted to my own integrity or to
+his moderation. I seized the first pause in his rhetoric to enforce this
+sentiment.
+
+"You are angry, Mr. Hadwin, and are loud in your threats; but they do
+not frighten me. They excite no apprehension or alarm, because I know
+myself able to convince you that I have not injured you. This is an inn,
+and I am your guest. I am sure I shall find better entertainment than
+blows. Come," continued I, smiling, "it is possible that I am not so
+mischievous a wretch as your fancy paints me. I have no claims upon your
+niece but that of friendship, and she is now in the house of an honest
+man, Mr. Curling, where she proposes to continue as long as is
+convenient.
+
+"It is true that your brother left a will, which his daughter burnt in
+my presence, because she dreaded the authority which that will gave you,
+not only over her property, but person. It is true that on leaving the
+house she took away the money which was now her own, and which was
+necessary to subsistence. It is true that I bore her company, and have
+left her in an honest man's keeping. I am answerable for nothing more.
+As to you, I meant not to injure you; I advised not the burning of the
+will. I was a stranger, till after that event, to your character. I knew
+neither good nor ill of you. I came to tell you all this, because, as
+Eliza's uncle, you had a right to the information."
+
+"So! you come to tell me that she burnt the will, and is going to
+administer--to what, I beseech you? To her father's property? Ay, I
+warrant you. But take this along with you:--that property is mine; land,
+house, stock, every thing. All is safe and snug under cover of a
+mortgage, to which Billy was kind enough to add a bond. One was sued,
+and the other _entered up_, a week ago. So that all is safe under my
+thumb, and the girl may whistle or starve for me. I shall give myself no
+concern about the strumpet. You thought to get a prize; but, damn me,
+you've met with your match in me. Phil Haddin's not so easily choused, I
+promise you. I intended to give you this news, and a drubbing into the
+bargain; but you may go, and make haste. She burnt the will, did she,
+because I was named in it,--and sent you to tell me so? Good souls! It
+was kind of you, and I am bound to be thankful. Take her back news of
+the mortgage; and, as for you, leave my house. You may go scot-free this
+time; but I pledge my word for a sound beating when you next enter these
+doors. I'll pay it to you with interest. Leave my house, I say!"
+
+"A mortgage," said I, in a low voice, and affecting not to hear his
+commands; "that will be sad news for my friend. Why, sir, you are a
+fortunate man. Malverton is an excellent spot; well watered and manured;
+newly and completely fenced; not a larger barn in the county; oxen and
+horses and cows in the best order; I never set eyes on a finer orchard.
+By my faith, sir, you are a fortunate man. But, pray, what have you for
+dinner? I am hungry as a wolf. Order me a beef-steak, and some potation
+or other. The bottle there,--it is cider, I take it; pray, push it to
+this side." Saying this, I stretched out my hand towards the bottle
+which stood before him.
+
+I confided in the power of a fearless and sedate manner. Methought
+that, as anger was the food of anger, it must unavoidably subside in a
+contest with equability. This opinion was intuitive, rather than the
+product of experience, and perhaps I gave no proof of my sagacity in
+hazarding my safety on its truth. Hadwin's character made him dreaded
+and obeyed by all. He had been accustomed to ready and tremulous
+submission from men far more brawny and robust than I was, and to find
+his most vehement menaces and gestures totally ineffectual on a being so
+slender and diminutive at once wound up his rage and excited his
+astonishment. One motion counteracted and suspended the other. He lifted
+his hand, but delayed to strike. One blow, applied with his usual
+dexterity, was sufficient to destroy me. Though seemingly careless, I
+was watchful of his motions, and prepared to elude the stroke by
+shrinking or stooping. Meanwhile, I stretched my hand far enough to
+seize the bottle, and, pouring its contents into a tumbler, put it to my
+lips:--
+
+"Come, sir, I drink your health, and wish you speedy possession of
+Malverton. I have some interest with Eliza, and will prevail on her to
+forbear all opposition and complaint. Why should she complain? While I
+live, she shall not be a beggar. No doubt your claim is legal, and
+therefore ought to be admitted. What the law gave, the law has taken
+away. Blessed be the dispensers of law! Excellent cider! open another
+bottle, will you, and, I beseech, hasten dinner, if you would not see me
+devour the table."
+
+It was just, perhaps, to conjure up the demon avarice to fight with the
+demon anger. Reason alone would, in such a contest, be powerless, but,
+in truth, I spoke without artifice or disguise. If his claim were legal,
+opposition would be absurd and pernicious. I meant not to rely upon his
+own assertions, and would not acknowledge the validity of his claim till
+I had inspected the deed. Having instituted suits, this was now in a
+public office, and there the inspection should be made. Meanwhile, no
+reason could be urged why I should part from him in anger, while his
+kindred to Eliza, and his title to her property, made it useful to
+secure his favour. It was possible to obtain a remission of his claims,
+even when the law enforced them; it would be imprudent at least to
+diminish the chances of remission by fostering his wrath and provoking
+his enmity.
+
+"What!" he exclaimed, in a transport of fury, "a'n't I master of my own
+house? Out, I say!"
+
+These were harsh terms, but they were not accompanied by gestures and
+tones so menacing as those which had before been used. It was plain that
+the tide, which so lately threatened my destruction, had begun to
+recede. This encouraged me to persist.
+
+"Be not alarmed, my good friend," said I, placidly and smiling. "A man
+of your bone need not fear a pigmy like me. I shall scarcely be able to
+dethrone you in your own castle, with an army of hostlers, tapsters, and
+cooks at your beck. You shall still be master here, provided you use
+your influence to procure me a dinner."
+
+His acquiescence in a pacific system was extremely reluctant and
+gradual. He laid aside one sullen tone and wrathful look after the
+other; and, at length, consented not only to supply me with a dinner,
+but to partake of it with me. Nothing was more a topic of surprise to
+himself than his forbearance. He knew not how it was. He had never been
+treated so before. He was not proof against entreaty and submission; but
+I had neither supplicated nor submitted. The stuff that I was made of
+was at once damnably tough and devilishly pliant. When he thought of my
+impudence, in staying in his house after he had bade me leave it, he was
+tempted to resume his passion. When he reflected on my courage, in
+making light of his anger, notwithstanding his known impetuosity and my
+personal inferiority, he could not withhold his esteem. But my patience
+under his rebukes, my unalterable equanimity, and my ready consent to
+the validity of his claims, soothed and propitiated him.
+
+An exemption from blows and abuse was all that I could gain from this
+man. I told him the truth, with regard to my own history, so far as it
+was connected with the Hadwins. I exhibited, in affecting colours, the
+helpless condition of Eliza; but could extort from him nothing but his
+consent that, if she chose, she might come and live with him. He would
+give her victuals and clothes for so much house-work as she was able to
+do. If she chose to live elsewhere, he promised not to molest her, or
+intermeddle in her concerns. The house and land were his by law, and he
+would have them.
+
+It was not my province to revile or expostulate with him. I stated what
+measures would be adopted by a man who regarded the interest of others
+more than his own; who was anxious for the welfare of an innocent girl,
+connected with him so closely by the ties of kindred, and who was
+destitute of what is called natural friends. If he did not cancel, for
+her sake, his bond and mortgage, he would, at least, afford her a frugal
+maintenance. He would extend to her, in all emergencies, his counsel and
+protection.
+
+All that, he said, was sheer nonsense. He could not sufficiently wonder
+at my folly, in proposing to him to make a free gift of a hundred rich
+acres, to a girl too who scarcely knew her right hand from her left;
+whom the first cunning young rogue like myself would _chouse_ out of the
+whole, and take herself into the bargain. But my folly was even
+surpassed by my impudence, since, as the _friend_ of this girl, I was
+merely petitioning on my own account. I had come to him, whom I never
+saw before, on whom I had no claim, and who, as I well knew, had reason
+to think me a sharper, and modestly said, "Here's a girl who has no
+fortune. I am greatly in want of one. Pray, give her such an estate that
+you have in your possession. If you do, I'll marry her, and take it into
+my own hands." I might be thankful that he did not answer such a
+petition with a horse-whipping. But if he did not give her his estate,
+he might extend to her, forsooth, his counsel and protection. "That I've
+offered to do," continued he. "She may come and live in my house, if she
+will. She may do some of the family work. I'll discharge the chambermaid
+to make room for her. Lizzy, if I remember right, has a pretty face. She
+can't have a better market for it than as chambermaid to an inn. If she
+minds her p's and q's she may make up a handsome sum at the year's end."
+
+I thought it time to break off the conference; and, my dinner being
+finished, took my leave, leaving behind me the character of _a queer
+sort of chap_. I speeded to the prothonotary's office, which was kept in
+the village, and quickly ascertained the truth of Hadwin's pretensions.
+There existed a mortgage, with bond and warrant of attorney, to so great
+an amount as would swallow up every thing at Malverton. Furnished with
+these tidings, I prepared, with a drooping heart, to return to Mr.
+Curling's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+
+This incident necessarily produced a change in my views with regard to
+my friend. Her fortune consisted of a few hundreds of dollars, which,
+frugally administered, might procure decent accommodation in the
+country. When this was consumed, she must find subsistence in tending
+the big wheel or the milk-pail, unless fortune should enable me to place
+her in a more favourable situation. This state was, in some respects,
+but little different from that in which she had spent the former part of
+her life; but, in her father's house, these employments were dignified
+by being, in some degree, voluntary, and relieved by frequent intervals
+of recreation and leisure. Now they were likely to prove irksome and
+servile, in consequence of being performed for hire and imposed by
+necessity. Equality, parental solicitudes, and sisterly endearments,
+would be wanting to lighten the yoke.
+
+These inconveniences, however, were imaginary. This was the school in
+which fortitude and independence were to be learned. Habit, and the
+purity of rural manners, would, likewise, create anew those ties which
+death had dissolved. The affections of parent and sister would be
+supplied by the fonder and more rational attachments of friendship.
+These toils were not detrimental to beauty or health. What was to be
+dreaded from them was their tendency to quench the spirit of liberal
+curiosity; to habituate the person to bodily, rather than intellectual,
+exertions; to supersede and create indifference or aversion to the only
+instruments of rational improvement, the pen and the book.
+
+This evil, however, was at some distance from Eliza. Her present abode
+was quiet and serene. Here she might enjoy domestic pleasures and
+opportunities of mental improvement for the coming twelvemonth at least.
+This period would, perhaps, be sufficient for the formation of studious
+habits. What schemes should be adopted for this end would be determined
+by the destiny to which I myself should be reserved.
+
+My path was already chalked out, and my fancy now pursued it with
+uncommon pleasure. To reside in your family; to study your profession;
+to pursue some subordinate or casual mode of industry, by which I might
+purchase leisure for medical pursuits, for social recreations, and for
+the study of mankind on your busy and thronged stage, was the scope of
+my wishes. This destiny would not hinder punctual correspondence and
+occasional visits to Eliza. Her pen might be called into action, and her
+mind be awakened by books, and every hour be made to add to her stores
+of knowledge and enlarge the bounds of her capacity.
+
+I was spiritless and gloomy when I left ----; but reflections on my
+future lot, and just views of the situation of my friend, insensibly
+restored my cheerfulness. I arrived at Mr. Curling's in the evening, and
+hastened to impart to Eliza the issue of my commission. It gave her
+uneasiness, merely as it frustrated the design, on which she had fondly
+mused, of residing in the city. She was somewhat consoled by my promises
+of being her constant correspondent and occasional visitor.
+
+Next morning I set out on my journey hither, on foot. The way was not
+long; the weather, though cold, was wholesome and serene. My spirits
+were high, and I saw nothing in the world before me but sunshine and
+prosperity. I was conscious that my happiness depended not on the
+revolutions of nature or the caprice of man. All without was, indeed,
+vicissitude and uncertainty; but within my bosom was a centre not to be
+shaken or removed. My purposes were honest and steadfast. Every sense
+was the inlet of pleasure, because it was the avenue of knowledge; and
+my soul brooded over the world to ideas, and glowed with exultation at
+the grandeur and beauty of its own creations.
+
+This felicity was too rapturous to be of long duration. I gradually
+descended from these heights; and the remembrance of past incidents,
+connected with the images of your family, to which I was returning, led
+my thoughts into a different channel. Welbeck and the unhappy girl whom
+he had betrayed; Mrs. Villars and Wallace, were recollected anew. The
+views which I had formed, for determining the fate and affording
+assistance to Clemenza, were recalled. My former resolutions with regard
+to her had been suspended by the uncertainty in which the fate of the
+Hadwins was, at that time, wrapped. Had it not become necessary wholly
+to lay aside these resolutions?
+
+That, indeed, was an irksome conclusion. No wonder that I struggled to
+repel it; that I fostered the doubt whether money was the only
+instrument of benefit; whether caution, and fortitude, and knowledge,
+were not the genuine preservatives from evil. Had I not the means in my
+hands of dispelling her fatal ignorance of Welbeck and of those with
+whom she resided? Was I not authorized, by my previous though slender
+intercourse, to seek her presence?
+
+Suppose I should enter Mrs. Villars's house, desire to be introduced to
+the lady, accost her with affectionate simplicity, and tell her the
+truth? Why be anxious to smooth the way? why deal in apologies,
+circuities, and innuendoes? All these are feeble and perverse
+refinements, unworthy of an honest purpose and an erect spirit. To
+believe her inaccessible to my visit was absurd. To wait for the
+permission of those whose interest it might be to shut out visitants was
+cowardice. This was an infringement of her liberty which equity and law
+equally condemned. By what right could she be restrained from
+intercourse with others? Doors and passages may be between her and me.
+With a purpose such as mine, no one had a right to close the one or
+obstruct the other. Away with cowardly reluctances and clownish
+scruples, and let me hasten this moment to her dwelling.
+
+Mrs. Villars is the portress of the mansion. She will probably present
+herself before me, and demand the reason of my visit. What shall I say
+to her? The truth. To falter, or equivocate, or dissemble to this woman
+would be wicked. Perhaps her character has been misunderstood and
+maligned. Can I render her a greater service than to apprize her of the
+aspersions that have rested on it, and afford her the opportunity of
+vindication? Perhaps she is indeed selfish and profligate; the betrayer
+of youth and the agent of lasciviousness. Does she not deserve to know
+the extent of her errors and the ignominy of her trade? Does she not
+merit the compassion of the good and the rebukes of the wise? To shrink
+from the task would prove me cowardly and unfirm. Thus far, at least,
+let my courage extend.
+
+Alas! Clemenza is unacquainted with my language. My thoughts cannot make
+themselves apparent but by words, and to my words she will be able to
+affix no meaning. Yet is not that a hasty decision? The version from the
+dramas of Zeno which I found in her toilet was probably hers, and proves
+her to have a speculative knowledge of our tongue. Near half a year has
+since elapsed, during which she has dwelt with talkers of English, and
+consequently could not fail to have acquired it. This conclusion is
+somewhat dubious, but experiment will give it certainty.
+
+Hitherto I had strolled along the path at a lingering pace. Time enough,
+methought, to reach your threshold between sunrise and moonlight, if my
+way had been three times longer than it was. You were the pleasing
+phantom that hovered before me and beckoned me forward. What a total
+revolution had occurred in the course of a few seconds! for thus long
+did my reasonings with regard to Clemenza and the Villars require to
+pass through my understanding, and escape, in half-muttered soliloquy,
+from my lips. My muscles trembled with eagerness, and I bounded forward
+with impetuosity. I saw nothing but a vista of catalpas, leafless,
+loaded with icicles, and terminating in four chimneys and a painted
+roof. My fancy outstripped my footsteps, and was busy in picturing faces
+and rehearsing dialogues. Presently I reached this new object of my
+pursuit, darted through the avenue, noticed that some windows of the
+house were unclosed, drew thence a hasty inference that the house was
+not without inhabitants, and knocked, quickly and loudly, for admission.
+
+Some one within crept to the door, opened it with seeming caution, and
+just far enough to allow the face to be seen. It was the timid, pale,
+and unwashed face of a girl who was readily supposed to be a servant,
+taken from a cottage, and turned into a bringer of wood and water and a
+scourer of tubs and trenches. She waited in timorous silence the
+delivery of my message. Was Mrs. Villars at home?
+
+"No; she has gone to town."
+
+Were any of her daughters within?
+
+She could not tell; she believed--she thought--which did I want? Miss
+Hetty or Miss Sally?
+
+"Let me see Miss Hetty." Saying this, I pushed gently against the door.
+The girl, half reluctant, yielded way; I entered the passage, and,
+putting my hand on the lock of a door that seemed to lead into a
+parlour,--"Is Miss Hetty in this room?"
+
+No; there was nobody there.
+
+"Go call her, then. Tell her there is one who wishes to see her on
+important business. I will wait for her coming in this room." So saying,
+I opened the door, and entered the apartment, while the girl withdrew to
+perform my message.
+
+The parlour was spacious and expensively furnished, but an air of
+negligence and disorder was everywhere visible. The carpet was wrinkled
+and unswept; a clock on the table, in a glass frame, so streaked and
+spotted with dust as scarcely to be transparent, and the index
+motionless, and pointing at four instead of nine; embers scattered on
+the marble hearth, and tongs lying on the fender with the handle in the
+ashes; a harpsichord, uncovered, one end loaded with _scores_, tumbled
+together in a heap, and the other with volumes of novels and plays, some
+on their edges, some on their backs, gaping open by the scorching of
+their covers; rent; blurred; stained; blotted; dog-eared; tables awry;
+chairs crowding each other; in short, no object but indicated the
+neglect or the ignorance of domestic neatness and economy.
+
+My leisure was employed in surveying these objects, and in listening
+for the approach of Miss Hetty. Some minutes elapsed, and no one came. A
+reason for delay was easily imagined, and I summoned patience to wait. I
+opened a book; touched the instrument; surveyed the vases on the
+mantel-tree; the figures on the hangings, and the print of Apollo and
+the Sibyl, taken from Salvator, and hung over the chimney. I eyed my own
+shape and garb in the mirror, and asked how my rustic appearance would
+be regarded by that supercilious and voluptuous being to whom I was
+about to present myself.
+
+Presently the latch of the door was softly moved: it opened, and the
+simpleton, before described, appeared. She spoke, but her voice was so
+full of hesitation, and so near a whisper, that much attention was
+needed to make out her words:--Miss Hetty was not at home; she was gone
+to town with her _mistress_.
+
+This was a tale not to be credited. How was I to act? She persisted in
+maintaining the truth of it.--"Well, then," said I, at length, "tell
+Miss Sally that I wish to speak with her. She will answer my purpose
+just as well."
+
+Miss Sally was not at home neither. She had gone to town too. They would
+not be back, she did not know when; not till night, she supposed. It was
+so indeed; none of them wasn't at home; none but she and Nanny in the
+kitchen: indeed there wasn't.
+
+"Go tell Nanny to come here; I will leave my message with her." She
+withdrew, but Nanny did not receive the summons, or thought proper not
+to obey it. All was vacant and still.
+
+My state was singular and critical. It was absurd to prolong it; but to
+leave the house with my errand unexecuted would argue imbecility and
+folly. To ascertain Clemenza's presence in this house, and to gain an
+interview, were yet in my power. Had I not boasted of my intrepidity in
+braving denials and commands when they endeavoured to obstruct my
+passage to this woman? But here were no obstacles nor prohibition.
+Suppose the girl had said truth, that the matron and her daughters were
+absent, and that Nanny and herself were the only guardians of the
+mansion. So much the better. My design will not be opposed. I have only
+to mount the stair, and go from one room to another till I find what I
+seek.
+
+There was hazard, as well as plausibility, in this scheme. I thought it
+best once more to endeavour to extort information from the girl, and
+persuade her to be my guide to whomsoever the house contained. I put my
+hand to the bell and rung a brisk peal. No one came. I passed into the
+entry, to the foot of a staircase, and to a back-window. Nobody was
+within hearing or sight.
+
+Once more I reflected on the rectitude of my intentions, on the
+possibility that the girl's assertions might be true, on the benefits of
+expedition, and of gaining access to the object of my visit without
+interruption or delay. To these considerations was added a sort of
+charm, not easily explained, and by no means justifiable, produced by
+the very temerity and hazardness accompanying this attempt. I thought,
+with scornful emotions, on the bars and hinderances which pride, and
+caprice, and delusive maxims of decorum, raise in the way of human
+intercourse. I spurned at these semblances and substitutes of honesty,
+and delighted to shake such fetters into air and trample such
+impediments to dust. I wanted to see a human being, in order to promote
+her happiness. It was doubtful whether she was within twenty paces of
+the spot where I stood. The doubt was to be solved. How? By examining
+the space. I forthwith proceeded to examine it. I reached the second
+story. I approached a door that was closed. I knocked. After a pause, a
+soft voice said, "Who is there?"
+
+The accents were as musical as those of Clemenza, but were in other
+respects different. I had no topic to discuss with this person. I
+answered not, yet hesitated to withdraw. Presently the same voice was
+again heard:--"What is it you want? Why don't you answer? Come in!" I
+complied with the command, and entered the room.
+
+It was deliberation and foresight that led me hither, and not chance or
+caprice. Hence, instead of being disconcerted or vanquished by the
+objects that I saw, I was tranquil and firm. My curiosity, however, made
+me a vigilant observer. Two females, arrayed with voluptuous negligence,
+in a manner adapted to the utmost seclusion, and seated in a careless
+attitude on a sofa, were now discovered.
+
+Both darted glances at the door. One, who appeared to be the youngest,
+no sooner saw me, than she shrieked, and, starting from her seat,
+betrayed in the looks which she successively cast upon me, on herself,
+and on the chamber, whose apparatus was in no less confusion than that
+of the apartment below, her consciousness of the unseasonableness of
+this meeting.
+
+The other shrieked likewise, but in her it seemed to be the token of
+surprise rather than that of terror. There was, probably, somewhat in my
+aspect and garb that suggested an apology for this intrusion, as arising
+from simplicity and mistake. She thought proper, however, to assume the
+air of one offended, and, looking sternly,--"How now, fellow," said she,
+"what is this? Why come you hither?"
+
+This questioner was of mature age, but had not passed the period of
+attractiveness and grace. All the beauty that nature had bestowed was
+still retained, but the portion had never been great. What she possessed
+was so modelled and embellished by such a carriage and dress as to give
+it most power over the senses of the gazer. In proportion, however, as
+it was intended and adapted to captivate those who know none but
+physical pleasures, it was qualified to breed distaste and aversion in
+me.
+
+I am sensible how much error may have lurked in this decision. I had
+brought with me the belief of their being unchaste; and seized, perhaps
+with too much avidity, any appearance that coincided with my
+prepossessions. Yet the younger by no means inspired the same disgust;
+though I had no reason to suppose her more unblemished than the elder.
+Her modesty seemed unaffected, and was by no means satisfied, like that
+of the elder, with defeating future curiosity. The consciousness of what
+had already been exposed filled her with confusion, and she would have
+flown away, if her companion had not detained her by some degree of
+force. "What ails the girl? There's nothing to be frightened at.
+Fellow!" she repeated, "what brings you here?"
+
+I advanced and stood before them. I looked steadfastly, but, I believe,
+with neither effrontery nor anger, on the one who addressed me. I spoke
+in a tone serious and emphatical. "I come for the sake of speaking to a
+woman who formerly resided in this house, and probably resides here
+still. Her name is Clemenza Lodi. If she be here, I request you to
+conduct me to her instantly."
+
+Methought I perceived some inquietude, a less imperious and more
+inquisitive air, in this woman, on hearing the name of Clemenza. It was
+momentary, and gave way to peremptory looks. "What is your business with
+her? And why did you adopt this mode of inquiry? A very extraordinary
+intrusion! Be good enough to leave the chamber. Any questions proper to
+be answered will be answered below."
+
+"I meant not to intrude or offend. It was not an idle or impertinent
+motive that led me hither. I waited below for some time after soliciting
+an audience of you through the servant. She assured me you were absent,
+and laid me under the necessity of searching for Clemenza Lodi myself,
+and without a guide. I am anxious to withdraw, and request merely to be
+directed to the room which she occupies."
+
+"I direct you," replied she, in a more resolute tone, "to quit the room
+and the house."
+
+"Impossible, madam," I replied, still looking at her earnestly; "leave
+the house without seeing her! You might as well enjoin me to pull the
+Andes on my head!--to walk barefoot to Pekin! Impossible!"
+
+Some solicitude was now mingled with her anger. "This is strange
+insolence! unaccountable behaviour!--begone from my room! will you
+compel me to call the gentlemen?"
+
+"Be not alarmed," said I, with augmented mildness. There was, indeed,
+compassion and sorrow at my heart, and these must have somewhat
+influenced my looks. "Be not alarmed. I came to confer a benefit, not to
+perpetrate an injury. I came not to censure or expostulate with you,
+but merely to counsel and aid a being that needs both; all I want is to
+see her. In this chamber I sought not you, but her. Only lead me to her,
+or tell me where she is. I will then rid you of my presence."
+
+"Will you compel me to call those who will punish this insolence as it
+deserves?"
+
+"Dearest madam! I compel you to nothing. I merely supplicate. I would
+ask you to lead me to these gentlemen, if I did not know that there are
+none but females in the house. It is you who must receive and comply
+with my petition. Allow me a moment's interview with Clemenza Lodi.
+Compliance will harm you not, but will benefit her. What is your
+objection?"
+
+"This is the strangest proceeding! the most singular conduct! Is this a
+place fit to parley with you? I warn you of the consequence of staying a
+moment longer. Depend upon it, you will sorely repent it."
+
+"You are obdurate," said I, and turned towards the younger, who listened
+to this discourse in tremors and panic. I took her hand with an air of
+humility and reverence. "Here," said I, "there seems to be purity,
+innocence, and condescension. I took this house to be the temple of
+voluptuousness. Females I expected to find in it, but such only as
+traded in licentious pleasures; specious, perhaps not destitute of
+talents, beauty, and address, but dissolute and wanton, sensual and
+avaricious; yet in this countenance and carriage there are tokens of
+virtue. I am born to be deceived, and the semblance of modesty is
+readily assumed. Under this veil, perhaps, lurk a tainted heart and
+depraved appetites. Is it so?"
+
+She made me no answer, but somewhat in her looks seemed to evince that
+my favourable prepossessions were just. I noticed likewise that the
+alarm of the elder was greatly increased by this address to her
+companion. The thought suddenly occurred that this girl might be in
+circumstances not unlike those of Clemenza Lodi; that she was not
+apprized of the character of her associates, and might by this meeting
+be rescued from similar evils.
+
+This suspicion filled me with tumultuous feelings. Clemenza was for a
+time forgotten. I paid no attention to the looks or demeanour of the
+elder, but was wholly occupied in gazing on the younger. My anxiety to
+know the truth gave pathos and energy to my tones while I spoke:--
+
+"Who, where, what are you? Do you reside in this house? Are you a sister
+or daughter in this family, or merely a visitant? Do you know the
+character, profession, and views of your companions? Do you deem them
+virtuous, or know them to be profligate? Speak! tell me, I beseech you!"
+
+The maiden confusion which had just appeared in the countenance of this
+person now somewhat abated. She lifted her eyes, and glanced by turns at
+me and at her who sat by her side. An air of serious astonishment
+overspread her features, and she seemed anxious for me to proceed. The
+elder, meanwhile, betrayed the utmost alarm, again upbraided my
+audacity, commanded me to withdraw, and admonished me of the danger I
+incurred by lingering.
+
+I noticed not her interference, but again entreated to know of the
+younger her true state. She had no time to answer me, supposing her not
+to want the inclination, for every pause was filled by the clamorous
+importunities and menaces of the other. I began to perceive that my
+attempts were useless to this end, but the chief and most estimable
+purpose was attainable. It was in my power to state the knowledge I
+possessed, through your means, of Mrs. Villars and her daughters. This
+information might be superfluous, since she to whom it was given might
+be one of this licentious family. The contrary, however, was not
+improbable, and my tidings, therefore, might be of the utmost moment to
+her safety.
+
+A resolute and even impetuous manner reduced my incessant interrupter to
+silence. What I had to say, I compressed in a few words, and adhered to
+perspicuity and candour with the utmost care. I still held the hand that
+I had taken, and fixed my eyes upon her countenance with a steadfastness
+that hindered her from lifting her eyes.
+
+"I know you not; whether you be dissolute or chaste, I cannot tell. In
+either case, however, what I am going to say will be useful. Let me
+faithfully repeat what I have heard. It is mere rumour, and I vouch not
+for its truth. Rumour as it is, I submit it to your judgment, and hope
+that it may guide you into paths of innocence and honour.
+
+"Mrs. Villars and her three daughters are Englishwomen, who supported
+for a time an unblemished reputation, but who, at length, were suspected
+of carrying on the trade of prostitution. This secret could not be
+concealed forever. The profligates who frequented their house betrayed
+them. One of them, who died under their roof, after they had withdrawn
+from it into the country, disclosed to his kinsman, who attended his
+death-bed, their genuine character.
+
+"The dying man likewise related incidents in which I am deeply
+concerned. I have been connected with one by name Welbeck. In his house
+I met an unfortunate girl, who was afterwards removed to Mrs. Villars's.
+Her name was Clemenza Lodi. Residence in this house, under the control
+of a woman like Mrs. Villars and her daughters, must be injurious to her
+innocence, and from this control I now come to rescue her."
+
+I turned to the elder, and continued,--"By all that is sacred, I adjure
+you to tell me whether Clemenza Lodi be under this roof! If she be not,
+whither has she gone? To know this I came hither, and any difficulty or
+reluctance in answering will be useless; till an answer be obtained, I
+will not go hence."
+
+During this speech, anger had been kindling in the bosom of this woman.
+It now burst upon me in a torrent of opprobrious epithets. I was a
+villain, a calumniator, a thief. I had lurked about the house, till
+those whose sex and strength enabled them to cope with me had gone. I
+had entered these doors by fraud. I was a wretch, guilty of the last
+excesses of insolence and insult.
+
+To repel these reproaches, or endure them, was equally useless. The
+satisfaction that I sought was only to be gained by searching the house.
+I left the room without speaking. Did I act illegally in passing from
+one story and one room to another? Did I really deserve the imputations
+of rashness and insolence? My behaviour, I well know, was ambiguous and
+hazardous, and perhaps wanting in discretion, but my motives were
+unquestionably pure. I aimed at nothing but the rescue of a human
+creature from distress and dishonour.
+
+I pretend not to the wisdom of experience and age; to the praise of
+forethought or subtlety. I choose the obvious path, and pursue it with
+headlong expedition. Good intentions, unaided by knowledge, will,
+perhaps, produce more injury than benefit, and therefore knowledge must
+be gained, but the acquisition is not momentary; is not bestowed unasked
+and untoiled for. Meanwhile, we must not be inactive because we are
+ignorant. Our good purposes must hurry to performance, whether our
+knowledge be greater or less.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+
+To explore the house in this manner was so contrary to ordinary rules,
+that the design was probably wholly unsuspected by the women whom I had
+just left. My silence, at parting, might have been ascribed by them to
+the intimidating influence of invectives and threats. Hence I proceeded
+in my search without interruption.
+
+Presently I reached a front chamber in the third story. The door was
+ajar. I entered it on tiptoe. Sitting on a low chair by the fire, I
+beheld a female figure, dressed in a negligent but not indecent manner.
+Her face, in the posture in which she sat, was only half seen. Its hues
+were sickly and pale, and in mournful unison with a feeble and emaciated
+form. Her eyes were fixed upon a babe that lay stretched upon a pillow
+at her feet. The child, like its mother, for such she was readily
+imagined to be, was meagre and cadaverous. Either it was dead, or could
+not be very distant from death.
+
+The features of Clemenza were easily recognised, though no contrast
+could be greater, in habit and shape and complexion, than that which her
+present bore to her former appearance. All her roses had faded, and her
+brilliancies vanished. Still, however, there was somewhat fitted to
+awaken the tenderest emotions. There were tokens of inconsolable
+distress.
+
+Her attention was wholly absorbed by the child. She lifted not her eyes
+till I came close to her and stood before her. When she discovered me, a
+faint start was perceived. She looked at me for a moment, then, putting
+one spread hand before her eyes, she stretched out the other towards the
+door, and waving it in silence, as if to admonish me to depart.
+
+This motion, however emphatical, I could not obey. I wished to obtain
+her attention, but knew not in what words to claim it. I was silent. In
+a moment she removed her hand from her eyes, and looked at me with new
+eagerness. Her features bespoke emotions which, perhaps, flowed from my
+likeness to her brother, joined with the memory of my connection with
+Welbeck.
+
+My situation was full of embarrassment. I was by no means certain that
+my language would be understood. I knew not in what light the policy and
+dissimulation of Welbeck might have taught her to regard me. What
+proposal, conducive to her comfort and her safety, could I make to her?
+
+Once more she covered her eyes, and exclaimed, in a feeble voice, "Go
+away! begone!"
+
+As if satisfied with this effort, she resumed her attention to her
+child. She stooped and lifted it in her arms, gazing, meanwhile, on its
+almost lifeless features with intense anxiety. She crushed it to her
+bosom, and, again looking at me, repeated, "Go away! go away! begone!"
+
+There was somewhat in the lines of her face, in her tones and gestures,
+that pierced to my heart. Added to this, was my knowledge of her
+condition; her friendlessness; her poverty; the pangs of unrequited
+love; and her expiring infant. I felt my utterance choked, and my tears
+struggling for passage. I turned to the window, and endeavoured to
+regain my tranquillity.
+
+"What was it," said I, "that brought me hither? The perfidy of Welbeck
+must surely have long since been discovered. What can I tell her of the
+Villars which she does not already know, or of which the knowledge will
+be useful? If their treatment has been just, why should I detract from
+their merit? If it has been otherwise, their own conduct will have
+disclosed their genuine character. Though voluptuous themselves, it does
+not follow that they have laboured to debase this creature. Though
+wanton, they may not be inhuman.
+
+"I can propose no change in her condition for the better. Should she be
+willing to leave this house, whither is it in my power to conduct her?
+Oh that I were rich enough to provide food for the hungry, shelter for
+the houseless, and raiment for the naked!"
+
+I was roused from these fruitless reflections by the lady, whom some
+sudden thought induced to place the child in its bed, and, rising, to
+come towards me. The utter dejection which her features lately betrayed
+was now changed for an air of anxious curiosity. "Where," said she, in
+her broken English,--"where is Signor Welbeck?"
+
+"Alas!" returned I, "I know not. That question might, I thought, with
+more propriety be put to you than me."
+
+"I know where he be; I fear where he be."
+
+So saying, the deepest sighs burst from her heart. She turned from me,
+and, going to the child, took it again into her lap. Its pale and sunken
+cheek was quickly wet with the mother's tears, which, as she silently
+hung over it, dropped fast from her eyes.
+
+This demeanour could not but awaken curiosity, while it gave a new turn
+to my thoughts. I began to suspect that in the tokens which I saw there
+was not only distress for her child, but concern for the fate of
+Welbeck. "Know you," said I, "where Mr. Welbeck is? Is he alive? Is he
+near? Is he in calamity?"
+
+"I do not know if he be alive. He be sick. He be in prison. They will
+not let me go to him. And"--here her attention and mine was attracted by
+the infant, whose frame, till now motionless, began to be tremulous. Its
+features sunk into a more ghastly expression. Its breathings were
+difficult, and every effort to respire produced a convulsion harder than
+the last.
+
+The mother easily interpreted these tokens. The same mortal struggle
+seemed to take place in her features as in those of her child. At length
+her agony found way in a piercing shriek. The struggle in the infant was
+past. Hope looked in vain for a new motion in its heart or its eyelids.
+The lips were closed, and its breath was gone forever!
+
+The grief which overwhelmed the unhappy parent was of that outrageous
+and desperate kind which is wholly incompatible with thinking. A few
+incoherent motions and screams, that rent the soul, were followed by a
+deep swoon. She sunk upon the floor, pale and lifeless as her babe.
+
+I need not describe the pangs which such a scene was adapted to produce
+in me. These were rendered more acute by the helpless and ambiguous
+situation in which I was placed. I was eager to bestow consolation and
+succour, but was destitute of all means. I was plunged into
+uncertainties and doubts. I gazed alternately at the infant and its
+mother. I sighed. I wept. I even sobbed. I stooped down and took the
+lifeless hand of the sufferer. I bathed it with my tears, and exclaimed,
+"Ill-fated woman! unhappy mother! what shall I do for thy relief? How
+shall I blunt the edge of this calamity, and rescue thee from new
+evils?"
+
+At this moment the door of the apartment was opened, and the younger of
+the women whom I had seen below entered. Her looks betrayed the deepest
+consternation and anxiety. Her eyes in a moment were fixed by the
+decayed form and the sad features of Clemenza. She shuddered at this
+spectacle, but was silent. She stood in the midst of the floor,
+fluctuating and bewildered. I dropped the hand that I was holding, and
+approached her.
+
+"You have come," said I, "in good season. I know you not, but will
+believe you to be good. You have a heart, it may be, not free from
+corruption, but it is still capable of pity for the miseries of others.
+You have a hand that refuses not its aid to the unhappy. See; there is
+an infant dead. There is a mother whom grief has, for a time, deprived
+of life. She has been oppressed and betrayed; been robbed of property
+and reputation--but not of innocence. She is worthy of relief. Have you
+arms to receive her? Have you sympathy, protection, and a home to bestow
+upon a forlorn, betrayed, and unhappy stranger? I know not what this
+house is; I suspect it to be no better than a brothel. I know not what
+treatment this woman has received. When her situation and wants are
+ascertained, will you supply her wants? Will you rescue her from evils
+that may attend her continuance here?"
+
+She was disconcerted and bewildered by this address. At length she
+said, "All that has happened, all that I have heard and seen, is so
+unexpected, so strange, that I am amazed and distracted. Your behaviour
+I cannot comprehend, nor your motive for making this address to me. I
+cannot answer you, except in one respect. If this woman has suffered
+injury, I have had no part in it. I knew not of her existence nor her
+situation till this moment; and whatever protection or assistance she
+may justly claim, I am both able and willing to bestow. I do not live
+here, but in the city. I am only an occasional visitant in this house."
+
+"What, then!" I exclaimed, with sparkling eyes and a rapturous accent,
+"you are not profligate; are a stranger to the manners of this house,
+and a detester of these manners? Be not a deceiver, I entreat you. I
+depend only on your looks and professions, and these may be dissembled."
+
+These questions, which indeed argued a childish simplicity, excited her
+surprise. She looked at me, uncertain whether I was in earnest or in
+jest. At length she said, "Your language is so singular, that I am at a
+loss how to answer it. I shall take no pains to find out its meaning,
+but leave you to form conjectures at leisure. Who is this woman, and how
+can I serve her?" After a pause, she continued:--"I cannot afford her
+any immediate assistance, and shall not stay a moment longer in this
+house. There" (putting a card in my hand) "is my name and place of
+abode. If you shall have any proposals to make, respecting this woman, I
+shall be ready to receive them in my own house." So saying, she
+withdrew.
+
+I looked wistfully after her, but could not but assent to her assertion,
+that her presence here would be more injurious to her than beneficial to
+Clemenza. She had scarcely gone, when the elder woman entered. There was
+rage, sullenness, and disappointment in her aspect. These, however, were
+suspended by the situation in which she discovered the mother and child.
+It was plain that all the sentiments of woman were not extinguished in
+her heart. She summoned the servants and seemed preparing to take such
+measures as the occasion prescribed. I now saw the folly of supposing
+that these measures would be neglected, and that my presence could not
+essentially contribute to the benefit of the sufferer. Still, however, I
+lingered in the room, till the infant was covered with a cloth, and the
+still senseless parent was conveyed into an adjoining chamber. The woman
+then, as if she had not seen me before, fixed scowling eyes upon me, and
+exclaimed, "Thief! villain! why do you stay here?"
+
+"I mean to go," said I, "but not till I express my gratitude and
+pleasure at the sight of your attention to this sufferer. You deem me
+insolent and perverse, but I am not such; and hope that the day will
+come when I shall convince you of my good intentions."
+
+"Begone!" interrupted she, in a more angry tone. "Begone this moment, or
+I will treat you as a thief." She now drew forth her hand from under her
+gown, and showed a pistol. "You shall see," she continued, "that I will
+not be insulted with impunity. If you do not vanish, I will shoot you as
+a robber."
+
+This woman was far from wanting a force and intrepidity worthy of a
+different sex. Her gestures and tones were full of energy. They denoted
+a haughty and indignant spirit. It was plain that she conceived herself
+deeply injured by my conduct; and was it absolutely certain that her
+anger was without reason? I had loaded her house with atrocious
+imputations, and these imputations might be false. I had conceived them
+upon such evidence as chance had provided; but this evidence, intricate
+and dubious as human actions and motives are, might be void of truth.
+
+"Perhaps," said I, in a sedate tone, "I have injured you; I have
+mistaken your character. You shall not find me less ready to repair,
+than to perpetrate, this injury. My error was without malice, and----"
+
+I had not time to finish the sentence, when this rash and enraged woman
+thrust the pistol close to my head and fired it. I was wholly unaware
+that her fury would lead her to this excess. It was a sort of mechanical
+impulse that made me raise my hand and attempt to turn aside the
+weapon. I did this deliberately and tranquilly, and without conceiving
+that any thing more was intended by her movement than to intimidate me.
+To this precaution, however, I was indebted for life. The bullet was
+diverted from my forehead to my left ear, and made a slight wound upon
+the surface, from which the blood gushed in a stream.
+
+The loudness of this explosion, and the shock which the ball produced in
+my brain, sunk me into a momentary stupor. I reeled backward, and should
+have fallen, had not I supported myself against the wall. The sight of
+my blood instantly restored her reason. Her rage disappeared, and was
+succeeded by terror and remorse. She clasped her hands, and exclaimed,
+"Oh! what! what have I done? My frantic passion has destroyed me."
+
+I needed no long time to show me the full extent of the injury which I
+had suffered and the conduct which it became me to adopt. For a moment I
+was bewildered and alarmed, but presently perceived that this was an
+incident more productive of good than of evil. It would teach me caution
+in contending with the passions of another, and showed me that there is
+a limit which the impetuosities of anger will sometimes overstep.
+Instead of reviling my companion, I addressed myself to her thus:--
+
+"Be not frighted. You have done me no injury, and, I hope, will derive
+instruction from this event. Your rashness had like to have sacrificed
+the life of one who is your friend, and to have exposed yourself to
+infamy and death, or, at least, to the pangs of eternal remorse. Learn
+from hence to curb your passions, and especially to keep at a distance
+from every murderous weapon, on occasions when rage is likely to take
+place of reason.
+
+"I repeat that my motives in entering this house were connected with
+your happiness as well as that of Clemenza Lodi. If I have erred in
+supposing you the member of a vile and pernicious trade, that error was
+worthy of being rectified, but violence and invective tend only to
+confirm it. I am incapable of any purpose that is not beneficent; but,
+in the means that I use and in the evidence on which I proceed, I am
+liable to a thousand mistakes. Point out to me the road by which I can
+do you good, and I will cheerfully pursue it."
+
+Finding that her fears had been groundless as to the consequences of her
+rashness, she renewed, though with less vehemence than before, her
+imprecations on my intermeddling and audacious folly. I listened till
+the storm was nearly exhausted, and then, declaring my intention to
+revisit the house if the interest of Clemenza should require it, I
+resumed my way to the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+
+"Why," said I, as I hasted forward, "is my fortune so abundant in
+unforeseen occurrences? Is every man who leaves his cottage and the
+impressions of his infancy behind him ushered into such a world of
+revolutions and perils as have trammelled my steps? or is my scene
+indebted for variety and change to my propensity to look into other
+people's concerns, and to make their sorrows and their joys mine?
+
+"To indulge an adventurous spirit, I left the precincts of the
+barn-door, enlisted in the service of a stranger, and encountered a
+thousand dangers to my virtue under the disastrous influence of Welbeck.
+Afterwards my life was set at hazard in the cause of Wallace, and now am
+I loaded with the province of protecting the helpless Eliza Hadwin and
+the unfortunate Clemenza. My wishes are fervent, and my powers shall not
+be inactive in their defence; but how slender are these powers!
+
+"In the offers of the unknown lady there is, indeed, some consolation
+for Clemenza. It must be my business to lay before my friend Stevens the
+particulars of what has befallen me, and to entreat his directions how
+this disconsolate girl may be most effectually succoured. It may be wise
+to take her from her present abode, and place her under some chaste and
+humane guardianship, where she may gradually lose remembrance of her
+dead infant and her specious betrayer. The barrier that severs her from
+Welbeck must be high as heaven and insuperable as necessity.
+
+"But, soft! Talked she not of Welbeck? Said she not that he was in
+prison and was sick? Poor wretch! I thought thy course was at an end;
+that the penalty of guilt no longer weighed down thy heart; that thy
+misdeeds and thy remorses were buried in a common and obscure grave; but
+it seems thou art still alive.
+
+"Is it rational to cherish the hope of thy restoration to innocence and
+peace? Thou art no obdurate criminal; hadst thou less virtue, thy
+compunctions would be less keen. Wert thou deaf to the voice of duty,
+thy wanderings into guilt and folly would be less fertile of anguish.
+The time will perhaps come, when the measure of thy transgressions and
+calamities will overflow, and the folly of thy choice will be too
+conspicuous to escape thy discernment. Surely, even for such
+transgressors as thou, there is a salutary power in the precepts of
+truth and the lessons of experience.
+
+"But thou art imprisoned and art sick. This, perhaps, is the crisis of
+thy destiny. Indigence and dishonour were the evils to shun which thy
+integrity and peace of mind have been lightly forfeited. Thou hast found
+that the price was given in vain; that the hollow and deceitful
+enjoyments of opulence and dignity were not worth the purchase; and
+that, frivolous and unsubstantial as they are, the only path that leads
+to them is that of honesty and diligence. Thou art in prison and art
+sick; and there is none to cheer thy hour with offices of kindness, or
+uphold thy fainting courage by the suggestions of good counsel. For such
+as thou the world has no compassion. Mankind will pursue thee to the
+grave with execrations. Their cruelty will be justified or palliated,
+since they know thee not. They are unacquainted with the goadings of thy
+conscience and the bitter retributions which thou art daily suffering.
+They are full of their own wrongs, and think only of those tokens of
+exultation and complacency which thou wast studious of assuming in thy
+intercourse with them. It is I only that thoroughly know thee and can
+rightly estimate thy claims to compassion.
+
+"I have somewhat partaken of thy kindness, and thou meritest some
+gratitude at my hands. Shall I not visit and endeavour to console thee
+in thy distress? Let me, at least, ascertain thy condition, and be the
+instrument in repairing the wrongs which thou hast inflicted. Let me
+gain, from the contemplation of thy misery, new motives to sincerity and
+rectitude."
+
+While occupied by these reflections, I entered the city. The thoughts
+which engrossed my mind related to Welbeck. It is not my custom to defer
+till to-morrow what can be done to-day. The destiny of man frequently
+hangs upon the lapse of a minute. "I will stop," said I, "at the prison;
+and, since the moment of my arrival may not be indifferent, I will go
+thither with all possible haste." I did not content myself with walking,
+but, regardless of the comments of passengers, hurried along the way at
+full speed.
+
+Having inquired for Welbeck, I was conducted through a dark room,
+crowded with beds, to a staircase. Never before had I been in a prison.
+Never had I smelt so noisome an odour, or surveyed faces so begrimed
+with filth and misery. The walls and floors were alike squalid and
+detestable. It seemed that in this house existence would be bereaved of
+all its attractions; and yet those faces, which could be seen through
+the obscurity that encompassed them, were either void of care or
+distorted with mirth.
+
+"This," said I, as I followed my conductor, "is the residence of
+Welbeck. What contrasts are these to the repose and splendour, pictured
+walls, glossy hangings, gilded sofas, mirrors that occupied from ceiling
+to floor, carpets of Tauris, and the spotless and transcendent
+brilliancy of coverlets and napkins, in thy former dwelling! Here
+brawling and the shuffling of rude feet are eternal. The air is loaded
+with the exhalations of disease and the fumes of debauchery. Thou art
+cooped up in airless space, and, perhaps, compelled to share thy narrow
+cell with some stupid ruffian. Formerly, the breezes were courted by thy
+lofty windows. Aromatic shrubs were scattered on thy hearth. Menials,
+splendid in apparel, showed their faces with diffidence in thy
+apartment, trod lightly on thy marble floor, and suffered not the
+sanctity of silence to be troubled by a whisper. Thy lamp shot its rays
+through the transparency of alabaster, and thy fragrant lymph flowed
+from vases of porcelain. Such were formerly the decorations of thy
+hall, the embellishments of thy existence; but now--alas!----"
+
+We reached a chamber in the second story. My conductor knocked at the
+door. No one answered. Repeated knocks were unheard or unnoticed by the
+person within. At length, lifting a latch, we entered together.
+
+The prisoner lay upon the bed, with his face turned from the door. I
+advanced softly, making a sign to the keeper to withdraw. Welbeck was
+not asleep, but merely buried in reverie. I was unwilling to disturb his
+musing, and stood with my eyes fixed upon his form. He appeared
+unconscious that any one had entered.
+
+At length, uttering a deep sigh, he changed his posture, and perceived
+me in my motionless and gazing attitude. Recollect in what circumstances
+we had last parted. Welbeck had, no doubt, carried away with him from
+that interview a firm belief that I should speedily die. His prognostic,
+however, was fated to be contradicted.
+
+His first emotions were those of surprise. These gave place to
+mortification and rage. After eyeing me for some time, he averted his
+glances, and that effort which is made to dissipate some obstacle to
+breathing showed me that his sensations were of the most excruciating
+kind. He laid his head upon the pillow, and sunk into his former musing.
+He disdained, or was unable, to utter a syllable of welcome or contempt.
+
+In the opportunity that had been afforded me to view his countenance, I
+had observed tokens of a kind very different from those which used to be
+visible. The gloomy and malignant were more conspicuous. Health had
+forsaken his cheeks, and taken along with it those flexible parts which
+formerly enabled him to cover his secret torments and insidious purposes
+beneath a veil of benevolence and cheerfulness. "Alas!" said I, loud
+enough for him to hear me, "here is a monument of ruin. Despair and
+mischievous passions are too deeply rooted in this heart for me to tear
+them away."
+
+These expressions did not escape his notice. He turned once more and
+cast sullen looks upon me. There was somewhat in his eyes that made me
+shudder. They denoted that his reverie was not that of grief, but of
+madness. I continued, in a less steadfast voice than before:--
+
+"Unhappy Clemenza! I have performed thy message. I have visited him that
+is sick and in prison. Thou hadst cause for anguish and terror, even
+greater cause than thou imaginedst. Would to God that thou wouldst be
+contented with the report which I shall make; that thy misguided
+tenderness would consent to leave him to his destiny, would suffer him
+to die alone; but that is a forbearance which no eloquence that I
+possess will induce thee to practise. Thou must come, and witness for
+thyself."
+
+In speaking thus, I was far from foreseeing the effects which would be
+produced on the mind of Welbeck. I was far from intending to instil into
+him a belief that Clemenza was near at hand, and was preparing to enter
+his apartment; yet no other images but these would, perhaps, have roused
+him from his lethargy, and awakened that attention which I wished to
+awaken. He started up, and gazed fearfully at the door.
+
+"What!" he cried. "What! Is she here? Ye powers, that have scattered
+woes in my path, spare me the sight of her! But from this agony I will
+rescue myself. The moment she appears I will pluck out these eyes and
+dash them at her feet."
+
+So saying, he gazed with augmented eagerness upon the door. His hands
+were lifted to his head, as if ready to execute his frantic purpose. I
+seized his arm and besought him to lay aside his terror, for that
+Clemenza was far distant. She had no intention, and besides was unable,
+to visit him.
+
+"Then I am respited. I breathe again. No; keep her from a prison. Drag
+her to the wheel or to the scaffold; mangle her with stripes; torture
+her with famine; strangle her child before her face, and cast it to the
+hungry dogs that are howling at the gate; but--keep her from a prison.
+Never let her enter these doors." There he stopped; his eyes being fixed
+on the floor, and his thoughts once more buried in reverie. I
+resumed:--
+
+"She is occupied with other griefs than those connected with the fate of
+Welbeck. She is not unmindful of you; she knows you to be sick and in
+prison; and I came to do for you whatever office your condition might
+require, and I came at her suggestion. She, alas! has full employment
+for her tears in watering the grave of her child."
+
+He started. "What! dead? Say you that the child is dead?"
+
+"It is dead. I witnessed its death. I saw it expire in the arms of its
+mother; that mother whom I formerly met under your roof blooming and
+gay, but whom calamity has tarnished and withered. I saw her in the
+raiment of poverty, under an accursed roof: desolate; alone; unsolaced
+by the countenance or sympathy of human beings; approached only by those
+who mock at her distress, set snares for her innocence, and push her to
+infamy. I saw her leaning over the face of her dying babe."
+
+Welbeck put his hands to his head, and exclaimed, "Curses on thy lips,
+infernal messenger! Chant elsewhere thy rueful ditty! Vanish! if thou
+wouldst not feel in thy heart fangs red with blood less guilty than
+thine."
+
+Till this moment the uproar in Welbeck's mind appeared to hinder him
+from distinctly recognising his visitant. Now it seemed as if the
+incidents of our last interview suddenly sprung up in his remembrance.
+
+"What! This is the villain that rifled my cabinet, the maker of my
+poverty and of all the evils which it has since engendered! That has led
+me to a prison! Execrable fool! you are the author of the scene that you
+describe, and of horrors without number and name. To whatever crimes I
+have been urged since that interview, and the fit of madness that made
+you destroy my property, they spring from your act; they flowed from
+necessity, which, had you held your hand at that fateful moment, would
+never have existed.
+
+"How dare you thrust yourself upon my privacy? Why am I not alone? Fly!
+and let my miseries want, at least, the aggravation of beholding their
+author. My eyes loathe the sight of thee! My heart would suffocate thee
+with its own bitterness! Begone!"
+
+"I know not," I answered, "why innocence should tremble at the ravings
+of a lunatic; why it should be overwhelmed by unmerited reproaches! Why
+it should not deplore the errors of its foe, labour to correct those
+errors, and----"
+
+"Thank thy fate, youth, that my hands are tied up by my scorn; thank thy
+fate that no weapon is within reach. Much has passed since I saw thee,
+and I am a new man. I am no longer inconstant and cowardly. I have no
+motives but contempt to hinder me from expiating the wrongs which thou
+hast done me in thy blood. I disdain to take thy life. Go; and let thy
+fidelity, at least, to the confidence which I have placed in thee, be
+inviolate. Thou hast done me harm enough, but canst do, if thou wilt,
+still more. Thou canst betray the secrets that are lodged in thy bosom,
+and rob me of the comfort of reflecting that my guilt is known but to
+one among the living."
+
+This suggestion made me pause, and look back upon the past. I had
+confided this man's tale to you. The secrecy on which he so fondly
+leaned was at an end. Had I acted culpably or not?
+
+But why should I ruminate, with anguish and doubt, upon the past? The
+future was within my power, and the road of my duty was too plain to be
+mistaken. I would disclose to Welbeck the truth, and cheerfully
+encounter every consequence. I would summon my friend to my aid, and
+take his counsel in the critical emergency in which I was placed. I
+ought not to rely upon myself alone in my efforts to benefit this being,
+when another was so near whose discernment and benevolence, and
+knowledge of mankind, and power of affording relief, were far superior
+to mine.
+
+Influenced by these thoughts, I left the apartment without speaking;
+and, procuring pen and paper, despatched to you the billet which brought
+about our meeting.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+
+Mervyn's auditors allowed no pause in their attention to this story.
+Having ended, a deep silence took place. The clock which stood upon the
+mantel had sounded twice the customary _larum_, but had not been heard
+by us. It was now struck a third time. It was _one_. Our guest appeared
+somewhat startled at this signal, and looked, with a mournful sort of
+earnestness, at the clock. There was an air of inquietude about him
+which I had never observed in an equal degree before.
+
+I was not without much curiosity respecting other incidents than those
+which had just been related by him; but, after so much fatigue as he had
+undergone, I thought it improper to prolong the conversation.
+
+"Come," said I, "my friend, let us to bed. This is a drowsy time, and,
+after so much exercise of mind and body, you cannot but need some
+repose. Much has happened in your absence, which is proper to be known
+to you; but our discourse will be best deferred till to-morrow. I will
+come into your chamber by day-dawn, and unfold to you particulars."
+
+"Nay," said he, "withdraw not on my account. If I go to my chamber, it
+will not be to sleep, but to meditate, especially after your assurance
+that something of moment has occurred in my absence. My thoughts,
+independently of any cause of sorrow or fear, have received an impulse
+which solitude and darkness will not stop. It is impossible to know too
+much for our safety and integrity, or to know it too soon. What has
+happened?"
+
+I did not hesitate to comply with his request, for it was not difficult
+to conceive that, however tired the limbs might be, the adventures of
+this day would not be easily expelled from the memory at night. I told
+him the substance of the conversation with Mrs. Althorpe. He smiled at
+those parts of the narrative which related to himself; but when his
+father's depravity and poverty were mentioned, he melted into tears.
+
+"Poor wretch! I, that knew thee in thy better days, might have easily
+divined this consequence. I foresaw thy poverty and degradation in the
+same hour that I left thy roof. My soul drooped at the prospect, but I
+said, It cannot be prevented, and this reflection was an antidote to
+grief; but, now that thy ruin is complete, it seems as if some of it
+were imputable to me, who forsook thee when the succour and counsel of a
+son were most needed. Thou art ignorant and vicious, but thou art my
+father still. I see that the sufferings of a better man than thou art
+would less afflict me than thine. Perhaps it is still in my power to
+restore thy liberty and good name, and yet--that is a fond wish. Thou
+art past the age when the ignorance and grovelling habits of a human
+being are susceptible of cure." There he stopped, and, after a gloomy
+pause, continued:--
+
+ * * * * *
+
+I am not surprised or afflicted at the misconceptions of my neighbours
+with relation to my own character. Men must judge from what they see;
+they must build their conclusions on their knowledge. I never saw in the
+rebukes of my neighbours any thing but laudable abhorrence of vice. They
+were too eager to blame, to collect materials of censure rather than of
+praise. It was not me whom they hated and despised. It was the phantom
+that passed under my name, which existed only in their imagination, and
+which was worthy of all their scorn and all their enmity.
+
+What I appeared to be in their eyes was as much the object of my own
+disapprobation as of theirs. Their reproaches only evinced the rectitude
+of their decisions, as well as of my own. I drew from them new motives
+to complacency. They fortified my perseverance in the path which I had
+chosen as best; they raised me higher in my own esteem; they heightened
+the claims of the reproachers themselves to my respect and my
+gratitude.
+
+They thought me slothful, incurious, destitute of knowledge and of all
+thirst of knowledge, insolent, and profligate. They say that in the
+treatment of my father I have been ungrateful and inhuman. I have stolen
+his property, and deserted him in his calamity. Therefore they hate and
+revile me. It is well; I love them for these proofs of their discernment
+and integrity. Their indignation at wrong is the truest test of their
+virtue.
+
+It is true that they mistake me, but that arises from the circumstances
+of our mutual situation. They examined what was exposed to their view,
+they grasped at what was placed within their reach. To decide contrary
+to appearances, to judge from what they knew not, would prove them to be
+brutish and not rational, would make their decision of no worth, and
+render them, in their turn, objects of neglect and contempt.
+
+It is true that I hated school; that I sought occasions of absence, and
+finally, on being struck by the master, determined to enter his presence
+no more. I loved to leap, to run, to swim, to climb trees and to clamber
+up rocks, to shroud myself in thickets and stroll among woods, to obey
+the impulse of the moment, and to prate or be silent, just as my humour
+prompted me. All this I loved more than to go to and fro in the same
+path, and at stated hours to look off and on a book, to read just as
+much and of such a kind, to stand up and be seated, just as another
+thought proper to direct. I hated to be classed, cribbed, rebuked, and
+feruled at the pleasure of one who, as it seemed to me, knew no guide in
+his rewards but caprice, and no prompter in his punishments but passion.
+
+It is true that I took up the spade and the hoe as rarely, and for as
+short a time, as possible. I preferred to ramble in the forest and
+loiter on the hill; perpetually to change the scene; to scrutinize the
+endless variety of objects; to compare one leaf and pebble with another;
+to pursue those trains of thought which their resemblances and
+differences suggested; to inquire what it was that gave them this place,
+structure, and form, were more agreeable employments than ploughing and
+threshing.
+
+My father could well afford to hire labour. What my age and my
+constitution enabled me to do could be done by a sturdy boy, in half the
+time, with half the toil, and with none of the reluctance. The boy was a
+bond-servant, and the cost of his clothing and food was next to nothing.
+True it is, that my service would have saved him even this expense, but
+my motives for declining the effort were not hastily weighed or
+superficially examined. These were my motives.
+
+My frame was delicate and feeble. Exposure to wet blasts and vertical
+suns was sure to make me sick. My father was insensible to this
+consequence; and no degree of diligence would please him but that which
+would destroy my health. My health was dearer to my mother than to me.
+She was more anxious to exempt me from possible injuries than reason
+justified; but anxious she was, and I could not save her from anxiety
+but by almost wholly abstaining from labour. I thought her peace of mind
+was of some value, and that, if the inclination of either of my parents
+must be gratified at the expense of the other, the preference was due to
+the woman who bore me; who nursed me in disease; who watched over my
+safety with incessant tenderness; whose life and whose peace were
+involved in mine. I should have deemed myself brutish and obdurately
+wicked to have loaded her with fears and cares merely to smooth the brow
+of a froward old man, whose avarice called on me to sacrifice my ease
+and my health, and who shifted to other shoulders the province of
+sustaining me when sick, and of mourning for me when dead.
+
+I likewise believed that it became me to reflect upon the influence of
+my decision on my own happiness; and to weigh the profits flowing to my
+father from my labour, against the benefits of mental exercise, the
+pleasures of the woods and streams, healthful sensations, and the luxury
+of musing. The pecuniary profit was petty and contemptible. It obviated
+no necessity. It purchased no rational enjoyment. It merely provoked, by
+furnishing the means of indulgence, an appetite from which my father was
+not exempt. It cherished the seeds of depravity in him, and lessened the
+little stock of happiness belonging to my mother.
+
+I did not detain you long, my friends, in portraying my parents, and
+recounting domestic incidents, when I first told you my story. What had
+no connection with the history of Welbeck and with the part that I have
+acted upon this stage I thought it proper to omit. My omission was
+likewise prompted by other reasons. My mind is enervated and feeble,
+like my body. I cannot look upon the sufferings of those I love without
+exquisite pain. I cannot steel my heart by the force of reason, and by
+submission to necessity; and, therefore, too frequently employ the
+cowardly expedient of endeavouring to forget what I cannot remember
+without agony.
+
+I told you that my father was sober and industrious by habit; but habit
+is not uniform. There were intervals when his plodding and tame spirit
+gave place to the malice and fury of a demon. Liquors were not sought by
+him; but he could not withstand entreaty, and a potion that produced no
+effect upon others changed him into a maniac.
+
+I told you that I had a sister, whom the arts of a villain destroyed.
+Alas! the work of her destruction was left unfinished by him. The blows
+and contumelies of a misjudging and implacable parent, who scrupled not
+to thrust her, with her new-born infant, out of doors; the curses and
+taunts of unnatural brothers, left her no alternative but death.----But
+I must not think of this; I must not think of the wrongs which my mother
+endured in the person of her only and darling daughter.
+
+My brothers were the copyists of the father, whom they resembled in
+temper and person. My mother doted on her own image in her daughter and
+in me. This daughter was ravished from her by self-violence, and her
+other children by disease. I only remained to appropriate her affections
+and fulfil her hopes. This alone had furnished a sufficient reason why I
+should be careful of my health and my life, but my father's character
+supplied me with a motive infinitely more cogent.
+
+It is almost incredible, but nevertheless true, that the only being
+whose presence and remonstrances had any influence on my father, at
+moments when his reason was extinct, was myself. As to my personal
+strength, it was nothing; yet my mother's person was rescued from
+brutal violence; he was checked, in the midst of his ferocious career,
+by a single look or exclamation from me. The fear of my rebukes had even
+some influence in enabling him to resist temptation. If I entered the
+tavern at the moment when he was lifting the glass to his lips, I never
+weighed the injunctions of decorum, but, snatching the vessel from his
+hand, I threw it on the ground. I was not deterred by the presence of
+others; and their censures on my want of filial respect and duty were
+listened to with unconcern. I chose not to justify myself by expatiating
+on domestic miseries, and by calling down that pity on my mother which I
+knew would only have increased her distress.
+
+The world regarded my deportment as insolent and perverse to a degree of
+insanity. To deny my father an indulgence which they thought harmless,
+and which, indeed, was harmless in its influence on other men; to
+interfere thus publicly with his social enjoyments, and expose him to
+mortification and shame, was loudly condemned; but my duty to my mother
+debarred me from eluding this censure on the only terms on which it
+could have been eluded. Now it has ceased to be necessary to conceal
+what passed in domestic retirements, and I should willingly confess the
+truth before any audience.
+
+At first my father imagined that threats and blows would intimidate his
+monitor. In this he was mistaken, and the detection of this mistake
+impressed him with an involuntary reverence for me, which set bounds to
+those excesses which disdained any other control. Hence I derived new
+motives for cherishing a life which was useful, in so many ways, to my
+mother.
+
+My condition is now changed. I am no longer on that field to which the
+law, as well as reason, must acknowledge that I had some right, while
+there was any in my father. I must hazard my life, if need be, in the
+pursuit of the means of honest subsistence. I never spared myself while
+in the service of Mr. Hadwin; and, at a more inclement season, should
+probably have incurred some hazard by my diligence.
+
+These were the motives of my _idleness_,--for my abstaining from the
+common toils of the farm passed by that name among my neighbours;
+though, in truth, my time was far from being wholly unoccupied by manual
+employments, but these required less exertion of body or mind, or were
+more connected with intellectual efforts. They were pursued in the
+seclusion of my chamber or the recesses of a wood. I did not labour to
+conceal them, but neither was I anxious to attract notice. It was
+sufficient that the censure of my neighbours was unmerited, to make me
+regard it with indifference.
+
+I sought not the society of persons of my own age, not from sullen or
+unsociable habits, but merely because those around me were totally
+unlike myself. Their tastes and occupations were incompatible with mine.
+In my few books, in my pen, in the vegetable and animal existences
+around me, I found companions who adapted their visits and intercourse
+to my convenience and caprice, and with whom I was never tired of
+communing.
+
+I was not unaware of the opinion which my neighbours had formed of my
+being improperly connected with Betty Lawrence. I am not sorry that I
+fell into company with that girl. Her intercourse has instructed me in
+what some would think impossible to be attained by one who had never
+haunted the impure recesses of licentiousness in a city. The knowledge
+which a residence in this town for ten years gave her audacious and
+inquisitive spirit she imparted to me. Her character, profligate and
+artful, libidinous and impudent, and made up of the impressions which a
+city life had produced on her coarse but active mind, was open to my
+study, and I studied it.
+
+I scarcely know how to repel the charge of illicit conduct, and to
+depict the exact species of intercourse subsisting between us. I always
+treated her with freedom, and sometimes with gayety. I had no motives to
+reserve. I was so formed that a creature like her had no power over my
+senses. That species of temptation adapted to entice me from the true
+path was widely different from the artifices of Betty. There was no
+point at which it was possible for her to get possession of my fancy. I
+watched her while she practised all her tricks and blandishments, as I
+regarded a similar deportment in the _animal salax ignavumque_ who
+inhabits the sty. I made efforts to pursue my observations
+unembarrassed; but my efforts were made, not to restrain desire, but to
+suppress disgust. The difficulty lay, not in withholding my caresses,
+but in forbearing to repulse her with rage.
+
+Decorum, indeed, was not outraged, and all limits were not overstepped
+at once. Dubious advances were employed; but, when found unavailing,
+were displaced by more shameless and direct proceedings. She was too
+little versed in human nature to see that her last expedient was always
+worse than the preceding; and that, in proportion as she lost sight of
+decency, she multiplied the obstacles to her success.
+
+Betty had many enticements in person and air. She was ruddy, smooth, and
+plump. To these she added--I must not say what, for it is strange to
+what lengths a woman destitute of modesty will sometimes go. But, all
+her artifices availing her not at all in the contest with my
+insensibilities, she resorted to extremes which it would serve no good
+purpose to describe in this audience. They produced not the consequences
+she wished, but they produced another which was by no means displeasing
+to her. An incident one night occurred, from which a sagacious observer
+deduced the existence of an intrigue. It was useless to attempt to
+rectify his mistake by explaining appearances in a manner consistent
+with my innocence. This mode of explication implied a _continence_ in me
+which he denied to be possible. The standard of possibilities,
+especially in vice and virtue, is fashioned by most men after their own
+character. A temptation which this judge of human nature knew that _he_
+was unable to resist, he sagely concluded to be irresistible by any
+other man, and quickly established the belief among my neighbours, that
+the woman who married the father had been prostituted to the son. Though
+I never admitted the truth of this aspersion, I believed it useless to
+deny, because no one would credit my denial, and because I had no power
+to disprove it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+
+What other inquiries were to be resolved by our young friend, we were
+now, at this late hour, obliged to postpone till the morrow. I shall
+pass over the reflections which a story like this would naturally
+suggest, and hasten to our next interview.
+
+After breakfast next morning, the subject of last night's conversation
+was renewed. I told him that something had occurred in his absence, in
+relation to Mrs. Wentworth and her nephew, that had perplexed us not a
+little. "My information is obtained," continued I, "from Wortley; and it
+is nothing less than that young Clavering, Mrs. Wentworth's nephew, is,
+at this time, actually alive."
+
+Surprise, but none of the embarrassment of guilt, appeared in his
+countenance at these tidings. He looked at me as if desirous that I
+should proceed.
+
+"It seems," added I, "that a letter was lately received by this lady
+from the father of Clavering, who is now in Europe. This letter reports
+that this son was lately met with in Charleston, and relates the means
+which old Mr. Clavering had used to prevail upon his son to return home;
+means, of the success of which he entertained well-grounded hopes. What
+think you?"
+
+"I can only reject it," said he, after some pause, "as untrue. The
+father's correspondent may have been deceived. The father may have been
+deceived, or the father may conceive it necessary to deceive the aunt,
+or some other supposition as to the source of the error may be true; but
+an error it surely is. Clavering is not alive. I know the chamber where
+he died, and the withered pine under which he lies buried."
+
+"If she be deceived," said I, "it will be impossible to rectify her
+error."
+
+"I hope not. An honest front and a straight story will be sufficient."
+
+"How do you mean to act?"
+
+"Visit her, without doubt, and tell her the truth. My tale will be too
+circumstantial and consistent to permit her to disbelieve."
+
+"She will not hearken to you. She is too strongly prepossessed against
+you to admit you even to a hearing."
+
+"She cannot help it. Unless she lock her door against me, or stuff her
+ears with wool, she must hear me. Her prepossessions are reasonable, but
+are easily removed by telling the truth. Why does she suspect me of
+artifice? Because I seemed to be allied to Welbeck, and because I
+disguised the truth. That she thinks ill of me is not her fault, but my
+misfortune; and, happily for me, a misfortune easily removed."
+
+"Then you will try to see her?"
+
+"I will see her, and the sooner the better. I will see her to-day; this
+morning; as soon as I have seen Welbeck, whom I shall immediately visit
+in his prison."
+
+"There are other embarrassments and dangers of which you are not aware.
+Welbeck is pursued by many persons whom he has defrauded of large sums.
+By these persons you are deemed an accomplice in his guilt, and a
+warrant is already in the hands of officers for arresting you wherever
+you are found."
+
+"In what way," said Mervyn, sedately, "do they imagine me a partaker of
+his crime?"
+
+"I know not. You lived with him. You fled with him. You aided and
+connived at his escape."
+
+"Are these crimes?"
+
+"I believe not, but they subject you to suspicion."
+
+"To arrest and to punishment?"
+
+"To detention for a while, perhaps. But these alone cannot expose you to
+punishment."
+
+"I thought so. Then I have nothing to fear."
+
+"You have imprisonment and obloquy, at least, to dread."
+
+"True; but they cannot be avoided but by my exile and skulking out of
+sight,--evils infinitely more formidable. I shall, therefore, not avoid
+them. The sooner my conduct is subjected to scrutiny, the better. Will
+you go with me to Welbeck?"
+
+"I will go with you."
+
+Inquiring for Welbeck of the keeper of the prison, we were informed that
+he was in his own apartment, very sick. The physician attending the
+prison had been called, but the prisoner had preserved an obstinate and
+scornful silence; and had neither explained his condition, nor consented
+to accept any aid.
+
+We now went alone into his apartment. His sensibility seemed fast
+ebbing, yet an emotion of joy was visible in his eyes at the appearance
+of Mervyn. He seemed likewise to recognise in me his late visitant, and
+made no objection to my entrance.
+
+"How are you this morning?" said Arthur, seating himself on the bedside,
+and taking his hand. The sick man was scarcely able to articulate his
+reply:--"I shall soon be well. I have longed to see you. I want to leave
+with you a few words." He now cast his languid eyes on me. "You are his
+friend," he continued. "You know all. You may stay."
+
+There now succeeded a long pause, during which he closed his eyes, and
+resigned himself as if to an oblivion of all thought. His pulse under my
+hand was scarcely perceptible. From this in some minutes he recovered,
+and, fixing his eyes on Mervyn, resumed, in a broken and feeble
+accent:--
+
+"Clemenza! You have seen her. Weeks ago, I left her in an accursed
+house; yet she has not been mistreated. Neglected and abandoned indeed,
+but not mistreated. Save her, Mervyn. Comfort her. Awaken charity for
+her sake.
+
+"I cannot tell you what has happened. The tale would be too long,--too
+mournful. Yet, in justice to the living, I must tell you something. My
+woes and my crimes will be buried with me. Some of them, but not all.
+
+"Ere this, I should have been many leagues upon the ocean, had not a
+newspaper fallen into my hands while on the eve of embarkation. By that
+I learned that a treasure was buried with the remains of the ill-fated
+Watson. I was destitute. I was unjust enough to wish to make this
+treasure my own. Prone to think I was forgotten, or numbered with the
+victims of pestilence, I ventured to return under a careless disguise. I
+penetrated to the vaults of that deserted dwelling by night. I dug up
+the bones of my friend, and found the girdle and its valuable contents,
+according to the accurate description that I had read.
+
+"I hastened back with my prize to Baltimore, but my evil destiny
+overtook me at last. I was recognised by emissaries of Jamieson,
+arrested and brought hither, and here shall I consummate my fate and
+defeat the rage of my creditors by death. But first----"
+
+Here Welbeck stretched out his left hand to Mervyn, and, after some
+reluctance, showed a roll of lead.
+
+"Receive this," said he. "In the use of it, be guided by your honesty
+and by the same advertisement that furnished me the clue by which to
+recover it. That being secured, the world and I will part forever.
+Withdraw, for your presence can help me nothing."
+
+We were unwilling to comply with his injunction, and continued some
+longer time in his chamber; but our kind intent availed nothing. He
+quickly relapsed into insensibility, from which he recovered not again,
+but next day expired. Such, in the flower of his age, was the fate of
+Thomas Welbeck.
+
+Whatever interest I might feel in accompanying the progress of my young
+friend, a sudden and unforeseen emergency compelled me again to leave
+the city. A kinsman, to whom I was bound by many obligations, was
+suffering a lingering disease, and, imagining, with some reason, his
+dissolution to be not far distant, he besought my company and my
+assistance, to soothe, at least, the agonies of his last hour. I was
+anxious to clear up the mysteries which Arthur's conduct had produced,
+and to shield him, if possible, from the evils which I feared awaited
+him. It was impossible, however, to decline the invitation of my
+kinsman, as his residence was not a day's journey from the city. I was
+obliged to content myself with occasional information, imparted by
+Mervyn's letters or those of my wife.
+
+Meanwhile, on leaving the prison, I hasted to inform Mervyn of the true
+nature of the scene which had just passed. By this extraordinary
+occurrence, the property of the Maurices was now in honest hands.
+Welbeck, stimulated by selfish motives, had done that which any other
+person would have found encompassed with formidable dangers and
+difficulties. How this attempt was suggested or executed, he had not
+informed us, nor was it desirable to know. It was sufficient that the
+means of restoring their own to a destitute and meritorious family were
+now in our possession.
+
+Having returned home, I unfolded to Mervyn all the particulars
+respecting Williams and the Maurices which I had lately learned from
+Wortley. He listened with deep attention, and, my story being finished,
+he said, "In this small compass, then, is the patrimony and subsistence
+of a numerous family. To restore it to them is the obvious
+proceeding--but how? Where do they abide?"
+
+"Williams and Watson's wife live in Baltimore, and the Maurices live
+near that town. The advertisements alluded to by Wortley, and which are
+to be found in any newspaper, will inform us; but, first, are we sure
+that any or all of these bills are contained in this covering?"
+
+The lead was now unrolled, and the bills which Williams had described
+were found enclosed. Nothing appeared to be deficient. Of this, however,
+we were scarcely qualified to judge. Those that were the property of
+Williams might not be entire, and what would be the consequence of
+presenting them to him, if any had been embezzled by Welbeck?
+
+This difficulty was obviated by Mervyn, who observed that the
+advertisement describing these bills would afford us ample information
+on this head. "Having found out where the Maurices and Mrs. Watson live,
+nothing remains but to visit them, and put an end, as far as lies in my
+power, to their inquietudes."
+
+"What! Would you go to Baltimore?"
+
+"Certainly. Can any other expedient be proper? How shall I otherwise
+insure the safe conveyance of these papers?"
+
+"You may send them by post."
+
+"But why not go myself?"
+
+"I can hardly tell, unless your appearance on such an errand may be
+suspected likely to involve you in embarrassments."
+
+"What embarrassments? If they receive their own, ought they not to be
+satisfied?"
+
+"The inquiry will naturally be made as to the manner of gaining
+possession of these papers. They were lately in the hands of Watson, but
+Watson has disappeared. Suspicions are awake respecting the cause of his
+disappearance. These suspicions are connected with Welbeck, and
+Welbeck's connection with you is not unknown."
+
+"These are evils, but I see not how an ingenious and open conduct is
+adapted to increase these evils. If they come, I must endure them."
+
+"I believe your decision is right. No one is so skilful an advocate in a
+cause, as he whose cause it is. I rely upon your skill and address, and
+shall leave you to pursue your own way. I must leave you for a time, but
+shall expect to be punctually informed of all that passes." With this
+agreement we parted, and I hastened to perform my intended journey.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+
+I am glad, my friend, thy nimble pen has got so far upon its journey.
+What remains of my story may be despatched in a trice. I have just now
+some vacant hours, which might possibly be more usefully employed, but
+not in an easier manner or more pleasant. So, let me carry on thy
+thread.
+
+First, let me mention the resolutions I had formed at the time I parted
+with my friend. I had several objects in view. One was a conference with
+Mrs. Wentworth; another was an interview with her whom I met with at
+Villars's. My heart melted when I thought upon the desolate condition of
+Clemenza, and determined me to direct my first efforts for her relief.
+For this end I was to visit the female who had given me a direction to
+her house. The name of this person is Achsa Fielding, and she lived,
+according to her own direction, at No. 40 Walnut Street.
+
+I went thither without delay. She was not at home. Having gained
+information from the servant as to when she might be found, I proceeded
+to Mrs. Wentworth's. In going thither my mind was deeply occupied in
+meditation; and, with my usual carelessness of forms, I entered the
+house and made my way to the parlour, where an interview had formerly
+taken place between us.
+
+Having arrived, I began, though somewhat unseasonably, to reflect upon
+the topics with which I should introduce my conversation, and
+particularly the manner in which I should introduce myself. I had opened
+doors without warning, and traversed passages without being noticed.
+This had arisen from my thoughtlessness. There was no one within hearing
+or sight. What was next to be done? Should I not return softly to the
+outer door, and summon the servant by knocking?
+
+Preparing to do this, I heard a footstep in the entry which suspended my
+design. I stood in the middle of the floor, attentive to these
+movements, when presently the door opened, and there entered the
+apartment Mrs. Wentworth herself! She came, as it seemed, without
+expectation of finding any one there. When, therefore, the figure of a
+man caught her vagrant attention, she started and cast a hasty look
+towards me.
+
+"Pray!" (in a peremptory tone,) "how came you here, sir? and what is
+your business?"
+
+Neither arrogance, on the one hand, nor humility, upon the other, had
+any part in modelling my deportment. I came not to deprecate anger, or
+exult over distress. I answered, therefore, distinctly, firmly, and
+erectly,--
+
+"I came to see you, madam, and converse with you; but, being busy with
+other thoughts, I forgot to knock at the door. No evil was intended by
+my negligence, though propriety has certainly not been observed. Will
+you pardon this intrusion, and condescend to grant me your attention?"
+
+"To what? What have you to say to me? I know you only as the accomplice
+of a villain in an attempt to deceive me. There is nothing to justify
+your coming hither, and I desire you to leave the house with as little
+ceremony as you entered it."
+
+My eyes were lowered at this rebuke, yet I did not obey the command.
+"Your treatment of me, madam, is such as I appear to you to deserve.
+Appearances are unfavourable to me, but those appearances are false. I
+have concurred in no plot against your reputation or your fortune. I
+have told you nothing but the truth. I came hither to promote no selfish
+or sinister purpose. I have no favour to entreat, and no petition to
+offer, but that you will suffer me to clear up those mistakes which you
+have harboured respecting me.
+
+"I am poor. I am destitute of fame and of kindred. I have nothing to
+console me in obscurity and indigence, but the approbation of my own
+heart and the good opinion of those who know me as I am. The good may be
+led to despise and condemn me. Their aversion and scorn shall not make
+me unhappy; but it is my interest and my duty to rectify their error if
+I can. I regard your character with esteem. You have been mistaken in
+condemning me as a liar and impostor, and I came to remove this mistake.
+I came, if not to procure your esteem, at least to take away hatred and
+suspicion.
+
+"But this is not all my purpose. You are in an error in relation not
+only to my character, but to the situation of your nephew Clavering. I
+formerly told you, that I saw him die; that I assisted at his burial:
+but my tale was incoherent and imperfect, and you have since received
+intelligence to which you think proper to trust, and which assures you
+that he is still living. All I now ask is your attention, while I relate
+the particulars of my knowledge.
+
+"Proof of my veracity or innocence may be of no value in your eyes, but
+the fate of your nephew ought to be known to you. Certainty, on this
+head, may be of much importance to your happiness, and to the regulation
+of your future conduct. To hear me patiently can do you no injury, and
+may benefit you much. Will you permit me to go on?"
+
+During this address, little abatement of resentment and scorn was
+visible in my companion.
+
+"I will hear you," she replied. "Your invention may amuse if it does not
+edify. But, I pray you, let your story be short."
+
+I was obliged to be content with this ungraceful concession, and
+proceeded to begin my narration. I described the situation of my
+father's dwelling. I mentioned the year, month, day, and hour of her
+nephew's appearance among us. I expatiated minutely on his form,
+features, dress, sound of his voice, and repeated his words. His
+favourite gestures and attitudes were faithfully described.
+
+I had gone but a little way in my story, when the effects were visible
+in her demeanour which I expected from it. Her knowledge of the youth,
+and of the time and manner of his disappearance, made it impossible for
+me, with so minute a narrative, to impose upon her credulity. Every
+word, every incident related, attested my truth, by their agreement with
+what she herself previously knew.
+
+Her suspicious and angry watchfulness was quickly exchanged for downcast
+looks, and stealing tears, and sighs difficultly repressed. Meanwhile, I
+did not pause, but described the treatment he received from my mother's
+tenderness, his occupations, the freaks of his insanity, and, finally,
+the circumstances of his death and funeral.
+
+Thence I hastened to the circumstances which brought me to the city;
+which placed me in the service of Welbeck, and obliged me to perform so
+ambiguous a part in her presence. I left no difficulty to be solved, and
+no question unanticipated.
+
+"I have now finished my story," I continued, "and accomplished my design
+in coming hither. Whether I have vindicated my integrity from your
+suspicions, I know not. I have done what in me lay to remove your error;
+and, in that, have done my duty. What more remains? Any inquiries you
+are pleased to make, I am ready to answer. If there be none to make, I
+will comply with your former commands, and leave the house with as
+little ceremony as I entered it."
+
+"Your story," she replied, "has been unexpected. I believe it fully, and
+am sorry for the hard thoughts which past appearances have made me
+entertain concerning you."
+
+Here she sunk into mournful silence. "The information," she at length
+resumed, "which I have received from another quarter respecting that
+unfortunate youth, astonishes and perplexes me. It is inconsistent with
+your story, but it must be founded on some mistake, which I am, at
+present, unable to unravel. Welbeck, whose connection has been so
+unfortunate to you----"
+
+"Unfortunate! Dear madam! How unfortunate? It has done away a part of my
+ignorance of the world in which I live. It has led me to the situation
+in which I am now placed. It has introduced me to the knowledge of many
+good people. It has made me the witness and the subject of many acts of
+beneficence and generosity. My knowledge of Welbeck has been useful to
+me. It has enabled me to be useful to others. I look back upon that
+allotment of my destiny which first led me to his door, with gratitude
+and pleasure.
+
+"Would to heaven," continued I, somewhat changing my tone, "intercourse
+with Welbeck had been as harmless to all others as it has been to me!
+that no injury to fortune and fame, and innocence and life, had been
+incurred by others greater than has fallen upon my head! There is one
+being, whose connection with him has not been utterly dissimilar in its
+origin and circumstances to mine, though the catastrophe has, indeed,
+been widely and mournfully different.
+
+"And yet, within this moment, a thought has occurred from which I derive
+some consolation and some hope. You, dear madam, are rich. These
+spacious apartments, this plentiful accommodation, are yours. You have
+enough for your own gratification and convenience, and somewhat to
+spare. Will you take to your protecting arms, to your hospitable roof,
+an unhappy girl whom the arts of Welbeck have robbed of fortune,
+reputation, and honour, who is now languishing in poverty, weeping over
+the lifeless remains of her babe, surrounded by the agents of vice, and
+trembling on the verge of infamy?"
+
+"What can this mean?" replied the lady. "Of whom do you speak?"
+
+"You shall know her. You shall be apprized of her claims to your
+compassion. Her story, as far as is known to me, I will faithfully
+repeat to you. She is a stranger; an Italian; her name is Clemenza
+Lodi."
+
+"Clemenza Lodi! Good heaven!" exclaimed Mrs. Wentworth; "why, surely--it
+cannot be. And yet--is it possible that you are that person?"
+
+"I do not comprehend you, madam."
+
+"A friend has related a transaction of a strange sort. It is scarcely an
+hour since she told it me. The name of Clemenza Lodi was mentioned in
+it, and a young man of most singular deportment was described. But tell
+me how you were engaged on Thursday morning."
+
+"I was coming to this city from a distance. I stopped ten minutes at the
+house of----"
+
+"Mrs. Villars?"
+
+"The same. Perhaps you know her and her character. Perhaps you can
+confirm or rectify my present opinions concerning her. It is there that
+the unfortunate Clemenza abides. It is thence that I wish her to be
+speedily removed."
+
+"I have heard of you; of your conduct upon that occasion."
+
+"Of me?" answered I, eagerly. "Do you know that woman?" So saying, I
+produced the card which I had received from her, and on which her name
+was written.
+
+"I know her well. She is my countrywoman and my friend."
+
+"Your friend? Then she is good; she is innocent; she is generous. Will
+she be a sister, a protectress, to Clemenza? Will you exhort her to a
+deed of charity? Will you be, yourself, an example of beneficence?
+Direct me to Miss Fielding, I beseech you. I have called on her already,
+but in vain, and there is no time to be lost."
+
+"Why are you so precipitate? What would you do?"
+
+"Take her away from that house instantly--bring her hither--place her
+under your protection--give her Mrs. Wentworth for a counsellor--a
+friend--a mother. Shall I do this? Shall I hie thither to-day, this very
+hour--now? Give me your consent, and she shall be with you before noon."
+
+"By no means," replied she, with earnestness. "You are too hasty. An
+affair of so much importance cannot be despatched in a moment. There are
+many difficulties and doubts to be first removed."
+
+"Let them be reserved for the future. Withhold not your helping hand
+till the struggle has disappeared forever. Think on the gulf that is
+already gaping to swallow her. This is no time to hesitate and falter. I
+will tell you her story, but not now; we will postpone it till
+to-morrow, and first secure her from impending evils. She shall tell it
+you herself. In an hour I will bring her hither, and she herself shall
+recount to you her sorrows. Will you let me?"
+
+"Your behaviour is extraordinary. I can scarcely tell whether this
+simplicity be real or affected. One would think that your common sense
+would show you the impropriety of your request. To admit under my roof a
+woman notoriously dishonoured, and from an infamous house----"
+
+"My dearest madam! How can you reflect upon the situation without
+irresistible pity? I see that you are thoroughly aware of her past
+calamity and her present danger. Do not these urge you to make haste to
+her relief? Can any lot be more deplorable than hers? Can any state be
+more perilous? Poverty is not the only evil that oppresses or that
+threatens her. The scorn of the world, and her own compunction, the
+death of the fruit of her error and the witness of her shame, are not
+the worst. She is exposed to the temptations of the profligate; while
+she remains with Mrs. Villars, her infamy accumulates; her further
+debasement is facilitated; her return to reputation and to virtue is
+obstructed by new bars."
+
+"How know I that her debasement is not already complete and
+irremediable? She is a mother, but not a wife. How came she thus? Is her
+being Welbeck's prostitute no proof of her guilt?"
+
+"Alas! I know not. I believe her not very culpable; I know her to be
+unfortunate; to have been robbed and betrayed. You are a stranger to her
+history. I am myself imperfectly acquainted with it.
+
+"But let me tell you the little that I know. Perhaps my narrative may
+cause you to think of her as I do."
+
+She did not object to this proposal, and I immediately recounted all
+that I had gained from my own observations, or from Welbeck himself,
+respecting this forlorn girl. Having finished my narrative, I proceeded
+thus:--
+
+"Can you hesitate to employ that power which was given you for good
+ends, to rescue this sufferer? Take her to your home; to your bosom; to
+your confidence. Keep aloof those temptations which beset her in her
+present situation. Restore her to that purity which her desolate
+condition, her ignorance, her misplaced gratitude and the artifices of a
+skilful dissembler, have destroyed, if it be destroyed; for how know we
+under what circumstances her ruin was accomplished? With what pretences,
+or appearances, or promises, she was won to compliance?"
+
+"True. I confess my ignorance; but ought not that ignorance to be
+removed before she makes a part of my family?"
+
+"Oh, no! It may be afterwards removed. It cannot be removed before. By
+bringing her hither you shield her, at least, from future and possible
+evils. Here you can watch her conduct and sift her sentiments
+conveniently and at leisure. Should she prove worthy of your charity,
+how justly may you congratulate yourself on your seasonable efforts in
+her cause! If she prove unworthy, you may then demean yourself according
+to her demerits."
+
+"I must reflect upon it.--To-morrow----"
+
+"Let me prevail on you to admit her at once, and without delay. This
+very moment may be the critical one. To-day we may exert ourselves with
+success, but to-morrow all our efforts may be fruitless. Why fluctuate,
+why linger, when so much good may be done, and no evil can possibly be
+incurred? It requires but a word from you; you need not move a finger.
+Your house is large. You have chambers vacant and convenient. Consent
+only that your door shall not be barred against her; that you will treat
+her with civility: to carry your kindness into effect; to persuade her
+to attend me hither and to place herself in your care, shall be my
+province."
+
+These and many similar entreaties and reasonings were ineffectual. Her
+general disposition was kind, but she was unaccustomed to strenuous or
+sudden exertions. To admit the persuasions of such an advocate to so
+uncommon a scheme as that of sharing her house with a creature thus
+previously unknown to her, thus loaded with suspicion and with obloquy,
+was not possible.
+
+I at last forbore importunity, and requested her to tell me when I might
+expect to meet with Mrs. Fielding at her lodgings. Inquiry was made to
+what end I sought an interview. I made no secret of my purpose.
+
+"Are you mad, young man?" she exclaimed. "Mrs. Fielding has already been
+egregiously imprudent. On the faith of an ancient slight acquaintance
+with Mrs. Villars in Europe, she suffered herself to be decoyed into a
+visit. Instead of taking warning by numerous tokens of the real
+character of that woman, in her behaviour and in that of her visitants,
+she consented to remain there one night. The next morning took place
+that astonishing interview with you which she has since described to me.
+She is now warned against the like indiscretion. And, pray, what
+benevolent scheme would you propose to her?"
+
+"Has she property? Is she rich?"
+
+"She is. Unhappily, perhaps, for her, she is absolute mistress of her
+fortune, and has neither guardian nor parent to control her in the use
+of it."
+
+"Has she virtue? Does she know the value of affluence and a fair fame?
+And will not she devote a few dollars to rescue a fellow-creature from
+indigence and infamy and vice? Surely she will. She will hazard nothing
+by the boon. I will be her almoner. I will provide the wretched stranger
+with food and raiment and dwelling; I will pay for all, if Mrs.
+Fielding, from her superfluity, will supply the means. Clemenza shall
+owe life and honour to your friend, till I am able to supply the needful
+sum from my own stock."
+
+While thus speaking, my companion gazed at me with steadfastness:--"I
+know not what to make of you. Your language and ideas are those of a
+lunatic. Are you acquainted with Mrs. Fielding?"
+
+"Yes. I have seen her two days ago, and she has invited me to see her
+again."
+
+"And on the strength of this acquaintance you expect to be her almoner?
+To be the medium of her charity?"
+
+"I desire to save her trouble; to make charity as light and easy as
+possible. 'Twill be better if she perform those offices herself. 'Twill
+redound more to the credit of her reason and her virtue. But I solicit
+her benignity only in the cause of Clemenza. For her only do I wish at
+present to call forth her generosity and pity."
+
+"And do you imagine she will intrust her money to one of your age and
+sex, whom she knows so imperfectly, to administer to the wants of one
+whom she found in such a house as Mrs. Villars's? She never will. She
+mentioned her imprudent engagement to meet you, but she is now warned
+against the folly of such confidence.
+
+"You have told me plausible stories of yourself and of this Clemenza. I
+cannot say that I disbelieve them, but I know the ways of the world too
+well to bestow implicit faith so easily. You are an extraordinary young
+man. You may possibly be honest. Such a one as you, with your education
+and address, may possibly have passed all your life in a hovel; but it
+is scarcely credible, let me tell you. I believe most of the facts
+respecting my nephew, because my knowledge of him before his flight
+would enable me to detect your falsehood; but there must be other proofs
+besides an innocent brow and a voluble tongue, to make me give full
+credit to your pretensions.
+
+"I have no claim upon Welbeck which can embarrass you. On that score,
+you are free from any molestation from me or my friends. I have
+suspected you of being an accomplice in some vile plot, and am now
+inclined to acquit you; but that is all that you must expect from me,
+till your character be established by other means than your own
+assertions. I am engaged at present, and must therefore request you to
+put an end to your visit."
+
+This strain was much unlike the strain which preceded it. I imagined, by
+the mildness of her tone and manners, that her unfavourable
+prepossessions were removed; but they seemed to have suddenly regained
+their pristine force. I was somewhat disconcerted by this unexpected
+change. I stood for a minute silent and irresolute.
+
+Just then a knock was heard at the door, and presently entered that very
+female whom I had met with at Villars's. I caught her figure as I
+glanced through the window. Mrs. Wentworth darted at me many significant
+glances, which commanded me to withdraw; but, with this object in view,
+it was impossible.
+
+As soon as she entered, her eyes were fixed upon me. Certain
+recollections naturally occurred at that moment, and made her cheeks
+glow. Some confusion reigned for a moment, but was quickly dissipated.
+She did not notice me, but exchanged salutations with her friend.
+
+All this while I stood near the window, in a situation not a little
+painful. Certain tremors which I had not been accustomed to feel, and
+which seemed to possess a mystical relation to the visitant, disabled me
+at once from taking my leave, or from performing any useful purpose by
+staying. At length, struggling for composure, I approached her, and,
+showing her the card she had given me, said,--
+
+"Agreeably to this direction, I called an hour ago, at your lodgings. I
+found you not. I hope you will permit me to call once more. When shall
+I expect to meet you at home?"
+
+Her eyes were cast on the floor. A kind of indirect attention was fixed
+on Mrs. Wentworth, serving to intimidate and check her. At length she
+said, in an irresolute voice, "I shall be at home this evening."
+
+"And this evening," replied I, "I will call to see you." So saying, I
+left the house.
+
+This interval was tedious, but was to be endured with equanimity. I was
+impatient to be gone to Baltimore, and hoped to be able to set out by
+the dawn of next day. Meanwhile, I was necessarily to perform something
+with respect to Clemenza.
+
+After dinner I accompanied Mrs. Stevens to visit Miss Carlton. I was
+eager to see a woman who could bear adversity in the manner which my
+friend had described.
+
+She met us at the door of her apartment. Her seriousness was not abated
+by her smiles of affability and welcome. "My friend!" whispered I, "how
+truly lovely is this Miss Carlton! Are the heart and the intelligence
+within worthy of these features?"
+
+"Yes, they are. The account of her employments, of her resignation to
+the ill fate of the brother whom she loves, proves that they are."
+
+My eyes were riveted to her countenance and person. I felt
+uncontrollable eagerness to speak to her, and to gain her good opinion.
+
+"You must know this young man, my dear Miss Carlton," said my friend,
+looking at me; "he is my husband's friend, and professes a great desire
+to be yours. You must not treat him as a mere stranger, for he knows
+your character and situation already, as well as that of your brother."
+
+She looked at me with benignity:--"I accept his friendship willingly and
+gratefully, and shall endeavour to convince him that his good opinion is
+not misplaced."
+
+There now ensued a conversation somewhat general, in which this young
+woman showed a mind vigorous from exercise and unembarrassed by care.
+She affected no concealment of her own condition, of her wants, or her
+comforts. She laid no stress upon misfortunes, but contrived to deduce
+some beneficial consequence to herself, and some motive for gratitude to
+Heaven, from every wayward incident that had befallen her.
+
+This demeanour emboldened me, at length, to inquire into the cause of
+her brother's imprisonment, and the nature of his debt.
+
+She answered frankly and without hesitation:--"It is a debt of his
+father's, for which he made himself responsible during his father's
+life. The act was generous but imprudent, as the event has shown;
+though, at the time, the unhappy effects could not be foreseen.
+
+"My father," continued she, "was arrested by his creditor, at a time
+when the calmness and comforts of his own dwelling were necessary to his
+health. The creditor was obdurate, and would release him upon no
+condition but that of receiving a bond from my brother, by which he
+engaged to pay the debt at several successive times and in small
+portions. All these instalments were discharged with great difficulty
+indeed, but with sufficient punctuality, except the last, to which my
+brother's earnings were not adequate."
+
+"How much is the debt?"
+
+"Four hundred dollars."
+
+"And is the state of the creditor such as to make the loss of four
+hundred dollars of more importance to him than the loss of liberty to
+your brother?"
+
+She answered, smiling, "That is a very abstract view of things. On such
+a question you and I might, perhaps, easily decide in favour of my
+brother; but would there not be some danger of deciding partially? His
+conduct is a proof of his decision, and there is no power to change it."
+
+"Will not argument change it? Methinks in so plain a case I should be
+able to convince him. You say he is rich and childless. His annual
+income is ten times more than this sum. Your brother cannot pay the debt
+while in prison; whereas, if at liberty, he might slowly and finally
+discharge it. If his humanity would not yield, his avarice might be
+brought to acquiesce."
+
+"But there is another passion which you would find it somewhat harder to
+subdue, and that is his vengeance. He thinks himself wronged, and
+imprisons my brother, not to enforce payment, but to inflict misery. If
+you could persuade him that there is no hardship in imprisonment, you
+would speedily gain the victory; but that could not be attempted
+consistently with truth. In proportion to my brother's suffering is his
+gratification."
+
+"You draw an odious and almost incredible portrait."
+
+"And yet such a one would serve for the likeness of almost every second
+man we meet."
+
+"And is such your opinion of mankind? Your experience must surely have
+been of a rueful tenor to justify such hard thoughts of the rest of your
+species."
+
+"By no means. It has been what those whose situation disables them from
+looking further than the surface of things would regard as unfortunate;
+but, if my goods and evils were equitably balanced, the former would be
+the weightiest. I have found kindness and goodness in great numbers, but
+have likewise met prejudice and rancor in many. My opinion of Farquhar
+is not lightly taken up. I saw him yesterday, and the nature of his
+motives in the treatment of my brother was plain enough."
+
+Here this topic was succeeded by others, and the conversation ceased not
+till the hour had arrived on which I had preconcerted to visit Mrs.
+Fielding. I left my two friends for this purpose.
+
+I was admitted to Mrs. Fielding's presence without scruple or
+difficulty. There were two females in her company, and one of the other
+sex, well-dressed, elderly, and sedate persons. Their discourse turned
+upon political topics, with which, as you know, I have but slight
+acquaintance. They talked of fleets and armies, of Robespierre and Pitt,
+of whom I had only a newspaper-knowledge.
+
+In a short time the women rose, and, huddling on their cloaks,
+disappeared, in company with the gentleman. Being thus left alone with
+Mrs. Fielding, some embarrassment was mutually betrayed. With much
+hesitation, which, however, gradually disappeared, my companion, at
+length, began the conversation:--
+
+"You met me lately, in a situation, sir, on which I look back with
+trembling and shame, but not with any self-condemnation. I was led into
+it without any fault, unless a too hasty confidence may be styled a
+fault. I had known Mrs. Villars in England, where she lived with an
+untainted reputation, at least; and the sight of my countrywoman, in a
+foreign land, awakened emotions in the indulgence of which I did not
+imagine there was either any guilt or any danger. She invited me to see
+her at her house with so much urgency and warmth, and solicited me to
+take a place immediately in a chaise in which she had come to the city,
+that I too incautiously complied.
+
+"You are a stranger to me, and I am unacquainted with your character.
+What little I have seen of your deportment, and what little I have
+lately heard concerning you from Mrs. Wentworth, do not produce
+unfavourable impressions; but the apology I have made was due to my own
+reputation, and should have been offered to you whatever your character
+had been." There she stopped.
+
+"I came not hither," said I, "to receive an apology. Your demeanour, on
+our first interview, shielded you sufficiently from any suspicions or
+surmises that I could form. What you have now mentioned was likewise
+mentioned by your friend, and was fully believed upon her authority. My
+purpose, in coming, related not to you, but to another. I desired merely
+to interest your generosity and justice on behalf of one whose destitute
+and dangerous condition may lay claim to your compassion and your
+succour."
+
+"I comprehend you," said she, with an air of some perplexity. "I know
+the claims of that person."
+
+"And will you comply with them?"
+
+"In what manner can I serve her?"
+
+"By giving her the means of living."
+
+"Does she not possess them already?"
+
+"She is destitute. Her dependence was wholly placed upon one that is
+dead, by whom her person was dishonoured and her fortune embezzled."
+
+"But she still lives. She is not turned into the street. She is not
+destitute of home."
+
+"But what a home!"
+
+"Such as she may choose to remain in."
+
+"She cannot choose it. She must not choose it. She remains through
+ignorance, or through the incapacity of leaving it."
+
+"But how shall she be persuaded to a change?"
+
+"I will persuade her. I will fully explain her situation. I will supply
+her with a new home."
+
+"You will persuade her to go with you, and to live at a home of your
+providing and on your bounty?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Would that change be worthy of a cautious person? Would it benefit her
+reputation? Would it prove her love of independence?"
+
+"My purposes are good. I know not why she should suspect them. But I am
+only anxious to be the instrument. Let her be indebted to one of her own
+sex, of unquestionable reputation. Admit her into this house. Invite her
+to your arms. Cherish and console her as your sister."
+
+"Before I am convinced that she deserves it? And even then, what regard
+shall I, young, unmarried, independent, affluent, pay to my own
+reputation in harbouring a woman in these circumstances?"
+
+"But you need not act yourself. Make me your agent and almoner. Only
+supply her with the means of subsistence through me."
+
+"Would you have me act a clandestine part? Hold meetings with one of
+your sex, and give him money for a purpose which I must hide from the
+world? Is it worth while to be a dissembler and impostor? And will not
+such conduct incur more dangerous surmises and suspicions than would
+arise from acting openly and directly? You will forgive me for reminding
+you, likewise, that it is particularly incumbent upon those in my
+situation to be circumspect in their intercourse with men and with
+strangers. This is the second time that I have seen you. My knowledge of
+you is extremely dubious and imperfect, and such as would make the
+conduct you prescribe to me, in a high degree, rash and culpable. You
+must not, therefore, expect me to pursue it."
+
+These words were delivered with an air of firmness and dignity. I was
+not insensible to the truth of her representations. "I confess," said I,
+"what you have said makes me doubt the propriety of my proposal; yet I
+would fain be of service to her. Cannot you point out some practicable
+method?"
+
+She was silent and thoughtful, and seemed indisposed to answer my
+question.
+
+"I had set my heart upon success in this negotiation," continued I, "and
+could not imagine any obstacle to its success; but I find my ignorance
+of the world's ways much greater than I had previously expected. You
+defraud yourself of all the happiness redounding from the act of making
+others happy. You sacrifice substance to show, and are more anxious to
+prevent unjust aspersions from lighting on yourself, than to rescue a
+fellow-creature from guilt and infamy.
+
+"You are rich, and abound in all the conveniences and luxuries of life.
+A small portion of your superfluity would obviate the wants of a being
+not less worthy than yourself. It is not avarice or aversion to labour
+that makes you withhold your hand. It is dread of the sneers and
+surmises of malevolence and ignorance.
+
+"I will not urge you further at present. Your determination to be wise
+should not be hasty. Think upon the subject calmly and sedately, and
+form your resolution in the course of three days. At the end of that
+period I will visit you again." So saying, and without waiting for
+comment or answer, I withdrew.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+
+I mounted the stage-coach at daybreak the next day, in company with a
+sallow Frenchman from St. Domingo, his fiddle-case, an ape, and two
+female blacks. The Frenchman, after passing the suburbs, took out his
+violin and amused himself with humming to his own _tweedle-tweedle_. The
+monkey now and then munched an apple, which was given to him from a
+basket by the blacks, who gazed with stupid wonder, and an exclamatory
+_La! La!_ upon the passing scenery, or chattered to each other in a sort
+of open-mouthed, half-articulate, monotonous, singsong jargon.
+
+The man looked seldom either on this side or that; and spoke only to
+rebuke the frolics of the monkey, with a "Tenez! Dominique! Prenez
+garde! Diable noir!"
+
+As to me, my thought was busy in a thousand ways. I sometimes gazed at
+the faces of my _four_ companions, and endeavoured to discern the
+differences and samenesses between them. I took an exact account of the
+features, proportions, looks, and gestures of the monkey, the Congolese,
+and the Creole Gaul. I compared them together, and examined them apart.
+I looked at them in a thousand different points of view, and pursued,
+untired and unsatiated, those trains of reflections which began at each
+change of tone, feature, and attitude.
+
+I marked the country as it successively arose before me, and found
+endless employment in examining the shape and substance of the fence,
+the barn, and the cottage, the aspect of earth and of heaven. How great
+are the pleasures of health and of mental activity!
+
+My chief occupation, however, related to the scenes into which I was
+about to enter. My imaginations were, of course, crude and inadequate;
+and I found an uncommon gratification in comparing realities, as they
+successively occurred, with the pictures which my wayward fancy had
+depicted.
+
+I will not describe my dreams. My proper task is to relate the truth.
+Neither shall I dwell upon the images suggested by the condition of the
+country through which I passed. I will confine myself to mentioning the
+transactions connected with the purpose of my journey.
+
+I reached Baltimore at night. I was not so fatigued but that I could
+ramble through the town. I intended, at present, merely the
+gratification of a stranger's curiosity. My visit to Mrs. Watson and her
+brother I designed should take place on the morrow. The evening of my
+arrival I deemed an unseasonable time.
+
+While roving about, however, it occurred to me, that it might not be
+impolitic to find the way to their habitation even now. My purposes of
+general curiosity would equally be served whichever way my steps were
+bent; and to trace the path to their dwelling would save me the trouble
+of inquiries and interrogations to-morrow.
+
+When I looked forward to an interview with the wife of Watson, and to
+the subject which would be necessarily discussed at that interview, I
+felt a trembling and misgiving at my heart. "Surely," thought I, "it
+will become me to exercise immeasurable circumspection and address; and
+yet how little are these adapted to the impetuosity and candour of my
+nature!
+
+"How am I to introduce myself? What am I to tell her? That I was a sort
+of witness to the murder of her husband? That I received from the hand
+of his assassin the letter which I afterwards transmitted to her? and,
+from the same hands, the bills contained in his girdle?
+
+"How will she start and look aghast! What suspicions will she harbour?
+What inquiries shall be made of me? How shall they be disarmed and
+eluded, or answered? Deep consideration will be necessary before I trust
+myself to such an interview. The coming night shall be devoted to
+reflection upon this subject."
+
+From these thoughts I proceeded to inquiries for the street mentioned in
+the advertisement, where Mrs. Watson was said to reside. The street,
+and, at length, the habitation, was found. Having reached a station
+opposite, I paused and surveyed the mansion. It was a wooden edifice of
+two stories, humble, but neat. You ascended to the door by several stone
+steps. Of the two lower windows, the shutters of one were closed, but
+those of the other were open. Though late in the evening, there was no
+appearance of light or fire within.
+
+Beside the house was a painted fence, through which was a gate leading
+to the back of the building. Guided by the impulse of the moment, I
+crossed the street to the gate, and, lifting the latch, entered the
+paved alley, on one side of which was a paled fence, and on the other
+the house, looking through two windows into the alley.
+
+The first window was dark like those in front; but at the second a light
+was discernible. I approached it, and, looking through, beheld a plain
+but neat apartment, in which parlour, kitchen, and nursery seemed to be
+united. A fire burned cheerfully in the chimney, over which was a
+tea-kettle. On the hearth sat a smiling and playful cherub of a boy,
+tossing something to a black girl who sat opposite, and whose innocent
+and regular features wanted only a different hue to make them beautiful.
+Near it, in a rocking-chair, with a sleeping babe in her lap, sat a
+female figure in plain but neat and becoming attire. Her posture
+permitted half her face to be seen, and saved me from any danger of
+being observed.
+
+This countenance was full of sweetness and benignity, but the sadness
+that veiled its lustre was profound. Her eyes were now fixed upon the
+fire and were moist with the tears of remembrance, while she sung, in
+low and scarcely-audible strains, an artless lullaby.
+
+This spectacle exercised a strange power over my feelings. While
+occupied in meditating on the features of the mother, I was unaware of
+my conspicuous situation. The black girl, having occasion to change her
+situation, in order to reach the ball which was thrown at her, unluckily
+caught a glance of my figure through the glass. In a tone of half
+surprise and half terror, she cried out, "Oh! see dare! a man!"
+
+I was tempted to draw suddenly back, but a second thought showed me the
+impropriety of departing thus abruptly and leaving behind me some alarm.
+I felt a sort of necessity for apologizing for my intrusion into these
+precincts, and hastened to a door that led into the same apartment. I
+knocked. A voice somewhat confused bade me enter. It was not till I
+opened the door and entered the room, that I fully saw in what
+embarrassments I had incautiously involved myself.
+
+I could scarcely obtain sufficient courage to speak, and gave a confused
+assent to the question, "Have you business with me, sir?" She offered me
+a chair, and I sat down. She put the child, not yet awakened, into the
+arms of the black, who kissed it and rocked it in her arms with great
+satisfaction, and, resuming her seat, looked at me with inquisitiveness
+mingled with complacency.
+
+After a moment's pause, I said, "I was directed to this house as the
+abode of Mr. Ephraim Williams. Can he be seen, madam?"
+
+"He is not in town at present. If you will leave a message with me, I
+will punctually deliver it."
+
+The thought suddenly occurred, whether any more was needful than merely
+to leave the bills suitably enclosed, as they already were, in a packet.
+Thus all painful explanations might be avoided, and I might have reason
+to congratulate myself on his seasonable absence. Actuated by these
+thoughts, I drew forth the packet, and put it into her hand, saying, "I
+will leave this in your possession, and must earnestly request you to
+keep it safe until you can deliver it into his own hands."
+
+Scarcely had I said this before new suggestions occurred. Was it right
+to act in this clandestine and mysterious manner? Should I leave these
+persons in uncertainty respecting the fate of a husband and a brother?
+What perplexities, misunderstandings, and suspenses might not grow out
+of this uncertainty? and ought they not to be precluded at any hazard to
+my own safety or good name?
+
+These sentiments made me involuntarily stretch forth my hand to retake
+the packet. This gesture, and other significances in my manners, joined
+to a trembling consciousness in herself, filled my companion with all
+the tokens of confusion and fear. She alternately looked at me and at
+the paper. Her trepidation increased, and she grew pale. These emotions
+were counteracted by a strong effort.
+
+At length she said, falteringly, "I will take good care of them, and
+will give them to my brother."
+
+She rose and placed them in a drawer, after which she resumed her seat.
+
+On this occasion all my wariness forsook me. I cannot explain why my
+perplexity and the trouble of my thoughts were greater upon this than
+upon similar occasions. However it be, I was incapable of speaking, and
+fixed my eyes upon the floor. A sort of electrical sympathy pervaded my
+companion, and terror and anguish were strongly manifested in the
+glances which she sometimes stole at me. We seemed fully to understand
+each other without the aid of words.
+
+This imbecility could not last long. I gradually recovered my composure,
+and collected my scattered thoughts. I looked at her with seriousness,
+and steadfastly spoke:--"Are you the wife of Amos Watson?"
+
+She started:--"I am indeed. Why do you ask? Do you know any thing
+of----?" There her voice failed.
+
+I replied with quickness, "Yes. I am fully acquainted with his destiny."
+
+"Good God!" she exclaimed, in a paroxysm of surprise, and bending
+eagerly forward, "my husband is then alive! This packet is from him.
+Where is he? When have you seen him?"
+
+"'Tis a long time since."
+
+"But where, where is he now? Is he well? Will he return to me?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"Merciful Heaven!" (looking upwards and clasping her hands,) "I thank
+thee at least for his life! But why has he forsaken me? Why will he not
+return?"
+
+"For a good reason," said I, with augmented solemnity, "he will never
+return to thee. Long ago was he laid in the cold grave."
+
+She shrieked; and, at the next moment, sunk in a swoon upon the floor. I
+was alarmed. The two children shrieked, and ran about the room terrified
+and unknowing what they did. I was overwhelmed with somewhat like
+terror, yet I involuntarily raised the mother in my arms, and cast about
+for the means of recalling her from this fit.
+
+Time to effect this had not elapsed, when several persons, apparently
+Mrs. Watson's neighbours, and raised by the outcries of the girls,
+hastily entered the room. They looked at me with mingled surprise and
+suspicion; but my attitude, being not that of an injurer but helper; my
+countenance, which showed the pleasure their entrance, at this critical
+moment, afforded me; and my words, in which I besought their assistance,
+and explained, in some degree, and briefly, the cause of those
+appearances, removed their ill thoughts.
+
+Presently, the unhappy woman, being carried by the new-comers into a
+bedroom adjoining, recovered her sensibility. I only waited for this. I
+had done my part. More information would be useless to her, and not to
+be given by me, at least in the present audience, without embarrassment
+and peril. I suddenly determined to withdraw, and this, the attention of
+the company being otherwise engaged, I did without notice. I returned to
+my inn, and shut myself up in my chamber. Such was the change which,
+undesigned, unforeseen, half an hour had wrought in my situation. My
+cautious projects had perished in their conception. That which I had
+deemed so arduous, to require such circumspect approaches, such
+well-concerted speeches, was done.
+
+I had started up before this woman as if from the pores of the ground. I
+had vanished with the same celerity, but had left her in possession of
+proofs sufficient that I was neither spectre nor demon. "I will visit
+her," said I, "again. I will see her brother, and know the full effect
+of my disclosure. I will tell them all that I myself know. Ignorance
+would be no less injurious to them than to myself; but, first, I will
+see the Maurices."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+
+Next morning I arose betimes, and equipped myself without delay. I had
+eight or ten miles to walk, so far from the town being the residence of
+these people; and I forthwith repaired to their dwelling. The persons
+whom I desired to see were known to me only by name, and by their place
+of abode. It was a mother and her three daughters to whom I now carried
+the means not only of competence but riches; means which they, no doubt,
+had long ago despaired of regaining, and which, among all possible
+messengers, one of my age and guise would be the least suspected of
+being able to restore.
+
+I arrived, through intricate ways, at eleven o'clock, at the house of
+Mrs. Maurice. It was a neat dwelling, in a very fanciful and rustic
+style, in the bosom of a valley, which, when decorated by the verdure
+and blossoms of the coming season, must possess many charms. At present
+it was naked and dreary.
+
+As I approached it, through a long avenue, I observed two female
+figures, walking arm-in-arm and slowly to and fro, in the path in which
+I now was. "These," said I, "are daughters of the family. Graceful,
+well-dressed, fashionable girls they seem at this distance. May they be
+deserving of the good tidings which I bring!" Seeing them turn towards
+the house, I mended my pace, that I might overtake them and request
+their introduction of me to their mother.
+
+As I more nearly approached, they again turned; and, perceiving me, they
+stood as if in expectation of my message. I went up to them.
+
+A single glance, cast at each, made me suspect that they were not
+sisters; but, somewhat to my disappointment, there was nothing highly
+prepossessing in the countenance of either. They were what is every day
+met with, though less embellished by brilliant drapery and turban, in
+markets and streets. An air somewhat haughty, somewhat supercilious,
+lessened still more their attractions. These defects, however, were
+nothing to me.
+
+I inquired, of her that seemed to be the elder of the two, for Mrs.
+Maurice.
+
+"She is indisposed," was the cold reply.
+
+"That is unfortunate. Is it not possible to see her?"
+
+"No;" with still more gravity.
+
+I was somewhat at a loss how to proceed. A pause ensued. At length the
+same lady resumed, "What's your business? You can leave your message
+with me."
+
+"With nobody but her. If she be not _very_ indisposed----"
+
+"She is very indisposed," interrupted she, peevishly. "If you cannot
+leave your message, you may take it back again, for she must not be
+disturbed."
+
+This was a singular reception. I was disconcerted and silent. I knew not
+what to say. "Perhaps," I at last observed, "some other time----"
+
+"No," (with increasing heat,) "no other time. She is more likely to be
+worse than better. Come, Betsy," said she, taking hold of her
+companion's arm; and, hieing into the house, shut the door after her,
+and disappeared. I stood, at the bottom of the steps, confounded at such
+strange and unexpected treatment. I could not withdraw till my purpose
+was accomplished. After a moment's pause, I stepped to the door, and
+pulled the bell. A negro came, of a very unpropitious aspect, and,
+opening the door, looked at me in silence. To my question, Was Mrs.
+Maurice to be seen? he made some answer, in a jargon which I could not
+understand; but his words were immediately followed by an unseen person
+within the house:--"Mrs. Maurice can't be seen by anybody. Come in,
+Cato, and shut the door." This injunction was obeyed by Cato without
+ceremony.
+
+Here was a dilemma! I came with ten thousand pounds in my hands, to
+bestow freely on these people, and such was the treatment I received. "I
+must adopt," said I, "a new mode."
+
+I lifted the latch, without a second warning, and, Cato having
+disappeared, went into a room, the door of which chanced to be open, on
+my right hand. I found within the two females whom I had accosted in the
+portico. I now addressed myself to the younger:--"This intrusion, when I
+have explained the reason of it, will, I hope, be forgiven. I come,
+madam----"
+
+"Yes," interrupted the other, with a countenance suffused by
+indignation, "I know very well whom you come from, and what it is that
+prompts this insolence; but your employer shall see that we have not
+sunk so low as he imagines. Cato! Bob! I say."
+
+"My employer, madam! I see you labour under some great mistake. I have
+no employer. I come from a great distance. I come to bring intelligence
+of the utmost importance to your family. I come to benefit and not to
+injure you."
+
+By this time, Bob and Cato, two sturdy blacks, entered the room. "Turn
+this person," said the imperious lady, regardless of my explanations,
+"out of the house. Don't you hear me?" she continued, observing that
+they looked one upon the other and hesitated.
+
+"Surely, madam," said I, "you are precipitate. You are treating like an
+enemy one who will prove himself your mother's best friend."
+
+"Will you leave the house?" she exclaimed, quite beside herself with
+anger. "Villains! why don't you do as I bid you?"
+
+The blacks looked upon each other, as if waiting for an example. Their
+habitual deference for every thing _white_, no doubt, held their hands
+from what they regarded as a profanation. At last Bob said, in a
+whining, beseeching tone, "Why, missee, massa buckra wanna go for doo,
+dan he winna go fo' wee."
+
+The lady now burst into tears of rage. She held out her hand,
+menacingly. "Will you leave the house?"
+
+"Not willingly," said I, in a mild tone. "I came too far to return with
+the business that brought me unperformed. I am persuaded, madam, you
+mistake my character and my views. I have a message to deliver your
+mother which deeply concerns her and your happiness, if you are her
+daughter. I merely wished to see her, and leave with her a piece of
+important news; news in which her fortune is deeply interested."
+
+These words had a wonderful effect upon the young lady. Her anger was
+checked. "Good God!" she exclaimed, "are you Watson?"
+
+"No; I am only Watson's representative, and come to do all that Watson
+could do if he were present."
+
+She was now importunate to know my business.
+
+"My business lies with Mrs. Maurice. Advertisements, which I have seen,
+direct me to her, and to this house; and to her only shall I deliver my
+message."
+
+"Perhaps," said she, with a face of apology, "I have mistaken you. Mrs.
+Maurice is my mother. She is really indisposed, but I can stand in her
+place on this occasion."
+
+"You cannot represent her in this instance. If I cannot have access to
+her now, I must go; and shall return when you are willing to grant it."
+
+"Nay," replied she, "she is not, perhaps, so very sick but that I will
+go, and see if she will admit you." So saying, she left me for three
+minutes; and, returning, said her mother wished to see me.
+
+I followed up-stairs, at her request; and, entering an ill-furnished
+chamber, found, seated in an arm-chair, a lady seemingly in years, pale,
+and visibly infirm. The lines of her countenance were far from laying
+claim to my reverence. It was too much like the daughter's.
+
+She looked at me, at my entrance, with great eagerness, and said, in a
+sharp tone, "Pray, friend, what is it you want with me? Make haste; tell
+your story, and begone."
+
+"My story is a short one, and easily told. Amos Watson was your agent in
+Jamaica. He sold an estate belonging to you, and received the money."
+
+"He did," said she, attempting ineffectually to rise from her seat, and
+her eyes beaming with a significance that shocked me; "he did, the
+villain, and purloined the money, to the ruin of me and my daughters.
+But if there be justice on earth it will overtake him. I trust I shall
+have the pleasure one day--I hope to hear he's hanged. Well, but go on,
+friend. He _did_ sell it, I tell you."
+
+"He sold it for ten thousand pounds," I resumed, "and invested this sum
+in bills of exchange. Watson is dead. These bills came into my hands. I
+was lately informed, by the public papers, who were the real owners, and
+have come from Philadelphia with no other view than to restore them to
+you. There they are," continued I, placing them in her lap, entire and
+untouched.
+
+She seized the papers, and looked at me and at her daughter, by turns,
+with an air of one suddenly bewildered. She seemed speechless, and,
+growing suddenly more ghastly pale, leaned her head back upon the chair.
+The daughter screamed, and hastened to support the languid parent, who
+difficultly articulated, "Oh, I am sick; sick to death. Put me on the
+bed."
+
+I was astonished and affrighted at this scene. Some of the domestics, of
+both colours, entered, and gazed at me with surprise. Involuntarily I
+withdrew, and returned to the room below, into which I had first
+entered, and which I now found deserted.
+
+I was for some time at a loss to guess at the cause of these
+appearances. At length it occurred to me, that joy was the source of the
+sickness that had seized Mrs. Maurice. The abrupt recovery of what had
+probably been deemed irretrievable would naturally produce this effect
+upon a mind of a certain texture.
+
+I was deliberating whether to stay or go, when the daughter entered the
+room, and, after expressing some surprise at seeing me, whom she
+supposed to have retired, told me that her mother wished to see me again
+before my departure. In this request there was no kindness. All was
+cold, supercilious, and sullen. I obeyed the summons without speaking.
+
+I found Mrs. Maurice seated in her arm-chair, much in her former guise.
+Without desiring me to be seated, or relaxing aught in her asperity of
+looks and tones,--"Pray, friend, how did you _come by_ these papers?"
+
+"I assure you, madam, they were honestly _come by_," answered I,
+sedately and with half a smile; "but, if the whole is there that was
+missing, the mode and time in which they came to me is matter of
+concern only to myself. Is there any deficiency?"
+
+"I am not sure. I don't know much of these matters. There may be less. I
+dare say there is. I shall know that soon. I expect a friend of mine
+every minute who will look them over. I don't doubt you can give a good
+account of yourself."
+
+"I doubt not but I can--to those who have a right to demand it. In this
+case, curiosity must be very urgent indeed before I shall consent to
+gratify it."
+
+"You must know this is a suspicious case. Watson, to-be-sure, embezzled
+the money; to-be-sure, you are his accomplice."
+
+"Certainly," said I, "my conduct, on this occasion, proves that. What I
+have brought to you, of my own accord; what I have restored to you,
+fully and unconditionally, it is plain Watson embezzled, and that I was
+aiding in the fraud. To restore what was never stolen always betrays the
+thief. To give what might be kept without suspicion is, without doubt,
+arrant knavery. To be serious, madam, in coming thus far, for this
+purpose, I have done enough; and must now bid you farewell."
+
+"Nay, don't go yet. I have something more to say to you. My friend, I'm
+sure, will be here presently. There he is;" (noticing a peal upon the
+bell.) "Polly, go down, and see if that's Mr. Somers. If it is, bring
+him up." The daughter went.
+
+I walked to the window absorbed in my own reflections. I was
+disappointed and dejected. The scene before me was the unpleasing
+reverse of all that my fancy, while coming hither, had foreboded. I
+expected to find virtuous indigence and sorrow lifted, by my means, to
+affluence and exultation. I expected to witness the tears of gratitude
+and the caresses of affection. What had I found? Nothing but sordidness,
+stupidity, and illiberal suspicion.
+
+The daughter stayed much longer than the mother's patience could endure.
+She knocked against the floor with her heel. A servant came up. "Where's
+Polly, you slut? It was not you, hussy, that I wanted. It was her."
+
+"She is talking in the parlour with a gentleman."
+
+"Mr. Somers, I suppose; hey, fool? Run with my compliments to him,
+wench. Tell him, please walk up."
+
+"It is not Mr. Somers, ma'am."
+
+"No? Who then, saucebox? What gentleman can have any thing to do with
+Polly?"
+
+"I don't know, ma'am."
+
+"Who said you did, impertinence? Run, and tell her I want her this
+instant."
+
+The summons was not delivered, or Polly did not think proper to obey it.
+Full ten minutes of thoughtful silence on my part, and of muttered
+vexation and impatience on that of the old lady, elapsed before Polly's
+entrance. As soon as she appeared, the mother began to complain bitterly
+of her inattention and neglect; but Polly, taking no notice of her,
+addressed herself to me, and told me that a gentleman below wished to
+see me. I hastened down, and found a stranger, of a plain appearance, in
+the parlour. His aspect was liberal and ingenuous; and I quickly
+collected, from his discourse, that this was the brother-in-law of
+Watson, and the companion of his last voyage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+
+My eyes sparkled with pleasure at this unexpected interview, and I
+willingly confessed my desire to communicate all the knowledge of his
+brother's destiny which I possessed. He told me, that, returning late to
+Baltimore, on the last evening, he found his sister in much agitation
+and distress, which, after a time, she explained to him. She likewise
+put the packets I had left into his hands.
+
+"I leave you to imagine," continued he, "my surprise and curiosity at
+this discovery. I was, of course, impatient to see the bearer of such
+extraordinary tidings. This morning, inquiring for one of your
+appearance at the taverns, I was, at length, informed of your arrival
+yesterday in the stage; of your going out alone in the evening; of your
+subsequent return; and of your early departure this morning.
+Accidentally I lighted on your footsteps; and, by suitable inquiries on
+the road, have finally traced you hither.
+
+"You told my sister her husband was dead. You left with her papers that
+were probably in his possession at the time of his death. I understand
+from Miss Maurice that the bills belonging to her mother have just been
+delivered to her. I presume you have no objection to clear up this
+mystery."
+
+"To you I am anxious to unfold every thing. At this moment, or at any
+time, but the sooner the more agreeable to me, I will do it."
+
+"This," said he, looking around him, "is no place; there is an inn, not
+a hundred yards from this gate, where I have left my horse; will you go
+thither?" I readily consented, and, calling for a private apartment, I
+laid before this man every incident of my life connected with Welbeck
+and Watson; my full, circumstantial, and explicit story appeared to
+remove every doubt which he might have entertained of my integrity.
+
+In Williams I found a plain, good man, of a temper confiding and
+affectionate. My narration being finished, he expressed, by unaffected
+tokens, his wonder and his grief on account of Watson's destiny. To my
+inquiries, which were made with frankness and fervour, respecting his
+own and his sister's condition, he said that the situation of both was
+deplorable till the recovery of this property. They had been saved from
+utter ruin, from beggary and a jail, only by the generosity and lenity
+of his creditors, who did not suffer the suspicious circumstances
+attending Watson's disappearance to outweigh former proofs of his
+probity. They had never relinquished the hopes of receiving some tidings
+of their kinsman.
+
+I related what had just passed in the house of Mrs. Maurice, and
+requested to know from him the history and character of this family.
+
+"They have treated you," he answered, "exactly as any one who knew them
+would have predicted. The mother is narrow, ignorant, bigoted, and
+avaricious. The eldest daughter, whom you saw, resembles the old lady in
+many things. Age, indeed, may render the similitude complete. At
+present, pride and ill-humour are her chief characteristics.
+
+"The youngest daughter has nothing in mind or person in common with her
+family. Where they are irascible, she is patient; where they are
+imperious, she is humble; where they are covetous, she is liberal; where
+they are ignorant and indolent, she is studious and skilful. It is rare,
+indeed, to find a young lady more amiable than Miss Fanny Maurice, or
+who has had more crosses and afflictions to sustain.
+
+"The eldest daughter always extorted the supply of her wants, from her
+parents, by threats and importunities; but the younger could never be
+prevailed upon to employ the same means, and, hence, she suffered
+inconveniences which, to any other girl, born to an equal rank, would
+have been, to the last degree, humiliating and vexatious. To her they
+only afforded new opportunities for the display of her most shining
+virtues,--fortitude and charity. No instance of their sordidness or
+tyranny ever stole a murmur from her. For what they had given, existence
+and a virtuous education, she said they were entitled to gratitude. What
+they withheld was their own, in the use of which they were not
+accountable to her. She was not ashamed to owe her subsistence to her
+own industry, and was only held by the pride of her family--in this
+instance their pride was equal to their avarice--from seeking out some
+lucrative kind of employment. Since the shock which their fortune
+sustained by Watson's disappearance, she has been permitted to pursue
+this plan, and she now teaches music in Baltimore for a living. No one,
+however, in the highest rank, can be more generally respected and
+caressed than she is."
+
+"But will not the recovery of this money make a favourable change in her
+condition?"
+
+"I can hardly tell; but I am inclined to think it will not. It will not
+change her mother's character. Her pride may be awakened anew, and she
+may oblige Miss Fanny to relinquish her new profession, and that will be
+a change to be deplored."
+
+"What good has been done, then, by restoring this money?"
+
+"If pleasure be good, you must have conferred a great deal on the
+Maurices; upon the mother and two of the daughters, at least,--the only
+pleasure, indeed, which their natures can receive. It is less than if
+you had raised them from absolute indigence, which has not been the
+case, since they had wherewithal to live upon besides their Jamaica
+property. But how?" continued Williams, suddenly recollecting himself;
+"have you claimed the reward promised to him who should restore these
+bills?"
+
+"What reward?"
+
+"No less than a thousand dollars. It was publicly promised under the
+hands of Mrs. Maurice and of Hemmings, her husband's executor."
+
+"Really," said I, "that circumstance escaped my attention, and I wonder
+that it did; but is it too late to repair the evil?"
+
+"Then you have no scruple to accept the reward?"
+
+"Certainly not. Could you suspect me of so strange a punctilio as that?"
+
+"Yes; but I know not why. The story you have just finished taught me to
+expect some unreasonable refinement upon that head. To be hired, to be
+bribed, to do our duty is supposed by some to be degrading."
+
+"This is no such bribe to me. I should have acted just as I have done,
+had no recompense been promised. In truth, this has been my conduct, for
+I never once thought of the reward; but, now that you remind me of it, I
+would gladly see it bestowed. To fulfil their engagements, in this
+respect, is no more than justice in the Maurices. To one in my condition
+the money will be highly useful. If these people were poor, or generous
+and worthy, or if I myself were already rich, I might less repine at
+their withholding it; but, things being as they are with them and with
+me, it would, I think, be gross injustice in them to withhold, and in me
+to refuse."
+
+"That injustice," said Williams, "will, on their part, I fear, be
+committed. 'Tis pity you first applied to Mrs. Maurice. Nothing can be
+expected from her avarice, unless it be wrested from her by a lawsuit."
+
+"That is a force which I shall never apply."
+
+"Had you gone first to Hemmings, you might, I think, have looked for
+payment. He is not a mean man. A thousand dollars, he must know, is not
+much to give for forty thousand. Perhaps, indeed, it may not yet be too
+late. I am well known to him, and, if you please, will attend you to him
+in the evening, and state your claim."
+
+I thankfully accepted this offer, and went with him accordingly. I found
+that Hemmings had been with Mrs. Maurice in the course of the day; had
+received from her intelligence of this transaction, and had entertained
+the expectation of a visit from me for this very purpose.
+
+While Williams explained to him the nature of my claim, he scanned me
+with great intentness. His austere and inflexible brow afforded me
+little room to hope for success, and this hopelessness was confirmed by
+his silence and perplexity when Williams had made an end.
+
+"To-be-sure," said he, after some pause, "the contract was explicit.
+To-be-sure, the conditions on Mr. Mervyn's side have been performed.
+Certain it is, the bills are entire and complete, but Mrs. Maurice will
+not consent to do her part, and Mrs. Maurice, to whom the papers were
+presented, is the person by whom, according to the terms of the
+contract, the reward must be paid."
+
+"But Mrs. Maurice, you know, sir, may be legally compelled to pay," said
+Williams.
+
+"Perhaps she may; but I tell you plainly, that she never will do the
+thing without compulsion. Legal process, however, in this case, will
+have other inconveniences besides delay. Some curiosity will naturally
+be excited, as to the history of these papers. Watson disappeared a
+twelvemonth ago. Who can avoid asking, Where have these papers been
+deposited all this while, and how came this person in possession of
+them?"
+
+"That kind of curiosity," said I, "is natural and laudable, and gladly
+would I gratify it. Disclosure or concealment in that case, however,
+would nowise affect my present claim. Whether a bond, legally executed,
+shall be paid, does not depend upon determining whether the payer is
+fondest of boiled mutton or roast beef. Truth, in the first case, has no
+connection with truth in the second. So far from eluding this curiosity,
+so far from studying concealment, I am anxious to publish the truth."
+
+"You are right, to-be-sure," said Hemmings. "Curiosity is a natural, but
+only an incidental, consequence in this case. I have no reason for
+desiring that it should be an unpleasant consequence to you."
+
+"Well, sir," said Williams, "you think that Arthur Mervyn has no remedy
+in this case but the law?"
+
+"Mrs. Maurice, to-be-sure, will never pay but on compulsion. Mervyn
+should have known his own interest better. While his left hand was
+stretched out to give, his right should have been held forth to receive.
+As it is, he must be contented with the aid of law. Any attorney will
+prosecute on condition of receiving _half the sum_ when recovered."
+
+We now rose to take our leave, when Hemmings, desiring us to pause a
+moment, said, "To-be-sure, in the utmost strictness of the terms of our
+promise, the reward was to be paid by the person who received the
+papers; but it must be owned that your claim, at any rate, is
+equitable. I have money of the deceased Mr. Maurice in my hands. These
+very bills are now in my possession. I will therefore pay you your due,
+and take the consequences of an act of justice on myself. I was prepared
+for you. Sign that receipt, and there is a _check_ for the amount."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+
+This unexpected and agreeable decision was accompanied by an invitation
+to supper, at which we were treated by our host with much affability and
+kindness. Finding me the author of Williams's good fortune as well as
+Mrs. Maurice's, and being assured by the former of his entire conviction
+of the rectitude of my conduct, he laid aside all reserve and distance
+with regard to me. He inquired into my prospects and wishes, and
+professed his willingness to serve me.
+
+I dealt with equal unreserve and frankness. "I am poor," said I. "Money
+for my very expenses hither I have borrowed from a friend, to whom I am,
+in other respects, much indebted, and whom I expect to compensate only
+by gratitude and future services.
+
+"In coming hither, I expected only an increase of my debts; to sink
+still deeper into poverty; but happily the issue has made me rich. This
+hour has given me competence, at least."
+
+"What! call you a thousand dollars competence?"
+
+"More than competence. I call it an abundance. My own ingenuity, while I
+enjoy health, will enable me to live. This I regard as a fund, first to
+pay my debts, and next to supply deficiencies occasioned by untoward
+accidents or ill health, during the ensuing three or four years at
+least."
+
+We parted with this new acquaintance at a late hour, and I accepted
+Williams's invitation to pass the time I should spend at Baltimore,
+under his sister's roof. There were several motives for prolonging this
+stay. What I had heard of Miss Fanny Maurice excited strong wishes to be
+personally acquainted with her. This young lady was affectionately
+attached to Mrs. Watson, by whose means my wishes were easily
+accomplished.
+
+I never was in habits of reserve, even with those whom I had no reason
+to esteem. With those who claimed my admiration and affection, it was
+impossible to be incommunicative. Before the end of my second interview,
+both these women were mistresses of every momentous incident of my life,
+and of the whole chain of my feelings and opinions, in relation to every
+subject, and particularly in relation to themselves. Every topic
+disconnected with these is comparatively lifeless and inert.
+
+I found it easy to win their attention, and to render them communicative
+in their turn. As full disclosures as I had made without condition or
+request, my inquiries and example easily obtained from Mrs. Watson and
+Miss Maurice. The former related every event of her youth, and the
+circumstances leading to her marriage. She depicted the character of her
+husband, and the whole train of suspenses and inquietudes occasioned by
+his disappearance. The latter did not hide from me her opinions upon any
+important subject, and made me thoroughly acquainted with her actual
+situation.
+
+This intercourse was strangely fascinating. My heart was buoyed up by a
+kind of intoxication. I now found myself exalted to my genial element,
+and began to taste the delights of existence. In the intercourse of
+ingenuous and sympathetic minds, I found a pleasure which I had not
+previously conceived.
+
+The time flew swiftly away, and a fortnight passed almost before I was
+aware that a day had gone by. I did not forget the friends whom I had
+left behind, but maintained a punctual correspondence with Stevens, to
+whom I imparted all occurrences.
+
+The recovery of my friend's kinsman allowed him in a few days to return
+home. His first object was the consolation and relief of Carlton, whom,
+with much difficulty, he persuaded to take advantage of the laws in
+favour of insolvent debtors. Carlton's only debt was owing to his uncle,
+and, by rendering up every species of property, except his clothes and
+the implements of his trade, he obtained a full discharge. In
+conjunction with his sister, he once more assumed the pen, and, being
+no longer burdened with debts he was unable to discharge, he resumed,
+together with his pen, his cheerfulness. Their mutual industry was
+sufficient for their decent and moderate subsistence.
+
+The chief reason for my hasty return was my anxiety respecting Clemenza
+Lodi. This reason was removed by the activity and benevolence of my
+friend. He paid this unfortunate stranger a visit at Mrs. Villars's.
+Access was easily obtained, and he found her sunk into the deepest
+melancholy. The recent loss of her child, the death of Welbeck, of which
+she was soon apprized, her total dependence upon those with whom she was
+placed, who, however, had always treated her without barbarity or
+indecorum, were the calamities that weighed down her spirits.
+
+My friend easily engaged her confidence and gratitude, and prevailed
+upon her to take refuge under his own roof. Mrs. Wentworth's scruples,
+as well as those of Mrs. Fielding, were removed by his arguments and
+entreaties, and they consented to take upon themselves, and divide
+between them, the care of her subsistence and happiness. They
+condescended to express much curiosity respecting me, and some interest
+in my welfare, and promised to receive me, on my return, on the footing
+of a friend.
+
+With some reluctance, I at length bade my new friends farewell, and
+returned to Philadelphia. Nothing remained, before I should enter on my
+projected scheme of study and employment, under the guidance of Stevens,
+but to examine the situation of Eliza Hadwin with my own eyes, and, if
+possible, to extricate my father from his unfortunate situation.
+
+My father's state had given me the deepest concern. I figured to myself
+his condition, besotted by brutal appetites, reduced to beggary, shut up
+in a noisome prison, and condemned to that society which must foster all
+his depraved propensities. I revolved various schemes for his relief. A
+few hundreds would take him from prison; but how should he be afterwards
+disposed of? How should he be cured of his indolent habits? How should
+he be screened from the contagion of vicious society? By what means,
+consistently with my own wants and the claims of others, should I
+secure to him an acceptable subsistence?
+
+Exhortation and example were vain. Nothing but restraint would keep him
+at a distance from the haunts of brawling and debauchery. The want of
+money would be no obstacle to prodigality and waste. Credit would be
+resorted to as long as it would answer his demand. When that failed, he
+would once more be thrown into a prison; the same means to extricate him
+would have to be repeated, and money be thus put into the pockets of the
+most worthless of mankind, the agents of drunkenness and blasphemy,
+without any permanent advantage to my father, the principal object of my
+charity.
+
+Though unable to fix on any plausible mode of proceeding, I determined,
+at least, to discover his present condition. Perhaps something might
+suggest itself, upon the spot, suited to my purpose. Without delay I
+proceeded to the village of Newtown, and, alighting at the door of the
+prison, inquired for my father.
+
+"Sawny Mervyn you want, I suppose," said the keeper. "Poor fellow! He
+came into limbo in a crazy condition, and has been a burden on my hands
+ever since. After lingering along for some time, he was at last kind
+enough to give us the slip. It is just a week since he drank his last
+pint--and _died_."
+
+I was greatly shocked at this intelligence. It was some time before my
+reason came to my aid, and showed me that this was an event, on the
+whole, and on a disinterested and dispassionate view, not unfortunate.
+The keeper knew not my relation to the deceased, and readily recounted
+the behaviour of the prisoner and the circumstances of his last hours.
+
+I shall not repeat the narrative. It is useless to keep alive the sad
+remembrance. He was now beyond the reach of my charity or pity; and,
+since reflection could answer no beneficial end to him, it was my duty
+to divert my thoughts into different channels, and live henceforth for
+my own happiness and that of those who were within the sphere of my
+influence.
+
+I was now alone in the world, so far as the total want of kindred
+creates solitude. Not one of my blood, nor even of my name, was to be
+found in this quarter of the world. Of my mother's kindred I knew
+nothing. So far as friendship or service might be claimed from them, to
+me they had no existence. I was destitute of all those benefits which
+flow from kindred, in relation to protection, advice, or property. My
+inheritance was nothing. Not a single relic or trinket in my possession
+constituted a memorial of my family. The scenes of my childish and
+juvenile days were dreary and desolate. The fields which I was wont to
+traverse, the room in which I was born, retained no traces of the past.
+They were the property and residence of strangers, who knew nothing of
+the former tenants, and who, as I was now told, had hastened to
+new-model and transform every thing within and without the habitation.
+
+These images filled me with melancholy, which, however, disappeared in
+proportion as I approached the abode of my beloved girl. Absence had
+endeared the image of my _Bess_--I loved to call her so--to my soul. I
+could not think of her without a melting softness at my heart, and tears
+in which pain and pleasure were unaccountably mingled. As I approached
+Curling's house, I strained my sight, in hopes of distinguishing her
+form through the evening dusk.
+
+I had told her of my purpose, by letter. She expected my approach at
+this hour, and was stationed, with a heart throbbing with impatience, at
+the roadside, near the gate. As soon as I alighted, she rushed into my
+arms.
+
+I found my sweet friend less blithesome and contented than I wished. Her
+situation, in spite of the parental and sisterly regards which she
+received from the Curlings, was mournful and dreary to her imagination.
+Rural business was irksome, and insufficient to fill up her time. Her
+life was tiresome, and uniform, and heavy.
+
+I ventured to blame her discontent, and pointed out the advantages of
+her situation. "Whence," said I, "can these dissatisfactions and
+repinings arise?"
+
+"I cannot tell," said she; "I don't know how it is with me. I am always
+sorrowful and thoughtful. Perhaps I think too much of my poor father
+and of Susan; and yet that can't be it, neither, for I think of them but
+seldom; not half as much as I ought, perhaps. I think of nobody almost
+but you. Instead of minding my business, or chatting and laughing with
+Peggy Curling, I love to get by myself,--to read, over and over, your
+letters, or to think how you are employed just then, and how happy I
+should be if I were in Fanny Maurice's place.
+
+"But it is all over now; this visit rewards me for every thing. I wonder
+how I could ever be sullen or mopeful. I will behave better, indeed I
+will, and be always, as now, a most happy girl."
+
+The greater part of three days was spent in the society of my friend, in
+listening to her relation of all that had happened during my absence,
+and in communicating, in my turn, every incident which had befallen
+myself. After this I once more returned to the city.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+
+I now set about carrying my plan of life into effect. I began with
+ardent zeal and unwearied diligence the career of medical study. I
+bespoke the counsels and instructions of my friend; attended him on his
+professional visits, and acted, in all practicable cases, as his
+substitute. I found this application of time more pleasurable than I had
+imagined. My mind gladly expanded itself, as it were, for the reception
+of new ideas. My curiosity grew more eager in proportion as it was
+supplied with food, and every day added strength to the assurance that I
+was no insignificant and worthless being; that I was destined to be
+_something_ in this scene of existence, and might some time lay claim to
+the gratitude and homage of my fellow men.
+
+I was far from being, however, monopolized by these pursuits. I was
+formed on purpose for the gratification of social intercourse. To love
+and to be loved; to exchange hearts and mingle sentiments with all the
+virtuous and amiable whom my good fortune had placed within the circuit
+of my knowledge, I always esteemed my highest enjoyment and my chief
+duty.
+
+Carlton and his sister, Mrs. Wentworth, and Achsa Fielding, were my most
+valuable associates beyond my own family. With all these my
+correspondence was frequent and unreserved, but chiefly with the latter.
+This lady had dignity and independence, a generous and enlightened
+spirit, beyond what her education had taught me to expect. She was
+circumspect and cautious in her deportment, and was not prompt to make
+advances, or accept them. She withheld her esteem and confidence until
+she had full proof of their being deserved.
+
+I am not sure that her treatment of me was fully conformable to her
+rules. My manners, indeed, as she once told me, she had never met with
+in another. Ordinary rules were so totally overlooked in my behaviour,
+that it seemed impossible for any one who knew me to adhere to them. No
+option was left but to admit my claims to friendship and confidence
+instantly, or to reject them altogether.
+
+I was not conscious of this singularity. The internal and undiscovered
+character of another weighed nothing with me in the question whether
+they should be treated with frankness or reserve. I felt no scruple on
+any occasion to disclose every feeling and every event. Any one who
+could listen found me willing to talk. Every talker found me willing to
+listen. Every one had my sympathy and kindness, _without_ claiming it;
+but I _claimed_ the kindness and sympathy of every one.
+
+Achsa Fielding's countenance bespoke, I thought, a mind worthy to be
+known and to be loved. The first moment I engaged her attention, I told
+her so. I related the little story of my family, spread out before her
+all my reasonings and determinations, my notions of right and wrong, my
+fears and wishes. All this was done with sincerity and fervour, with
+gestures, actions, and looks, in which I felt as if my whole soul was
+visible. Her superior age, sedateness, and prudence, gave my deportment
+a filial freedom and affection, and I was fond of calling her "_mamma_."
+
+I particularly dwelt upon the history of my dear country-girl; painted
+her form and countenance; recounted our dialogues, and related all my
+schemes for making her wise, and good, and happy. On these occasions my
+friend would listen to me with the mutest attention. I showed her the
+letters I received, and offered her for her perusal those which I wrote
+in answer, before they were sealed and sent.
+
+On these occasions she would look by turns on my face and away from me.
+A varying hue would play upon her cheek, and her eyes were fuller than
+was common, of meaning.
+
+"Such-and-such," I once said, "are my notions; now, what do _you_
+think?"
+
+"_Think_!" emphatically, and turning somewhat aside, she answered;
+"that you are the most--_strange_ of human creatures."
+
+"But tell me," I resumed, following and searching her averted eyes; "am
+I right? would you do thus? Can you help me to improve my girl? I wish
+you knew the bewitching little creature. How would that heart overflow
+with affection and with gratitude towards you! She should be your
+daughter. No--you are too nearly of an age for that. A sister; her
+_elder_ sister, you should be. _That_, when there is no other relation,
+includes them all. Fond sisters you would be, and I the fond brother of
+you both."
+
+My eyes glistened as I spoke. In truth, I am in that respect a mere
+woman. My friend was more powerfully moved. After a momentary struggle
+she burst into tears.
+
+"Good heaven!" said I, "what ails you? Are you not well?"
+
+Her looks betrayed an unaccountable confusion, from which she quickly
+recovered:--"It was folly to be thus affected. Something ailed me, I
+believe, but it is past. But, come, you want some lines of finishing the
+description of the _Boa_ in La Cepide."
+
+"True. And I have twenty minutes to spare. Poor Franks is very ill
+indeed, but he cannot be seen till nine. We'll read till then."
+
+Thus on the wings of pleasure and improvement passed my time; not
+without some hues, occasionally, of a darker tint. My heart was now and
+then detected in sighing. This occurred when my thoughts glanced at the
+poor Eliza, and measured, as it were, the interval between us. "We are
+too--_too_ far apart," thought I.
+
+The best solace on these occasions was the company of Mrs. Fielding; her
+music, her discourse, or some book which she set me to rehearsing to
+her. One evening, when preparing to pay her a visit, I received the
+following letter from my Bess:--
+
+ _To A. Mervyn._
+
+ CURLING'S, May 6, 1794.
+
+Where does this letter you promised me stay all this while? Indeed,
+Arthur, you torment me more than I deserve, and more than I could ever
+find it in my heart to do you. You treat me cruelly. I must say so,
+though I offend you. I must write, though you do not deserve that I
+should, and though I fear I am in a humour not very fit for writing. I
+had better go to my chamber and weep; weep at your--_unkindness_, I was
+going to say; but, perhaps, it is only forgetfulness; and yet what can
+be more unkind than forgetfulness? I am sure I have never forgotten you.
+Sleep itself, which wraps all other images in forgetfulness, only brings
+you nearer, and makes me see you more distinctly.
+
+But where can this letter stay?--Oh! that--hush! foolish girl! If a word
+of that kind escape thy lips, Arthur will be angry with thee; and then,
+indeed, thou mightest weep in earnest. _Then_ thou wouldst have some
+cause for thy tears. More than once already has he almost broken thy
+heart with his reproaches. Sore and weak as it now is, any new
+reproaches would assuredly break it quite.
+
+I _will_ be content. I will be as good a housewife and dairywoman, stir
+about as briskly, and sing as merrily, as Peggy Curling. Why not? I am
+as young, as innocent, and enjoy as good health. Alas! she has reason to
+be merry. She has father, mother, brothers; but I have none. And he that
+was all these, and more than all these, to me, has--_forgotten_ me.
+
+But, perhaps, it is some accident that hinders. Perhaps Oliver left the
+market earlier than he used to do; or you mistook the house; or perhaps
+some poor creature was sick, was taken suddenly ill, and you were busy
+in chafing his clay-cold limbs; it fell to you to wipe the clammy drops
+from his brow. Such things often happen (don't they, Arthur?) to people
+of your trade, and some such thing has happened now; and that was the
+reason you did not write.
+
+And if so, shall I repine at your silence? Oh no! At such a time the
+poor Bess might easily be, and ought to be, forgotten. She would not
+deserve your love if she could repine at a silence brought about this
+way.
+
+And oh! may it be so! May there be nothing worse than this! If the sick
+man--see, Arthur, how my hand trembles. Can you read this scrawl? What
+is always bad, my fears make worse than ever.
+
+I must not think that. And yet, if it be so, if my friend himself be
+sick, what will become of me? Of me, that ought to cherish you and
+comfort you; that ought to be your nurse. Endure for you your sickness,
+when she cannot remove it.
+
+Oh! that----I _will_ speak out--Oh that this strange scruple had never
+possessed you! Why should I _not_ be with you? Who can love you and
+serve you as well as I? In sickness and health, I will console and
+assist you. Why will you deprive yourself of such a comforter and such
+an aid as I would be to you?
+
+Dear Arthur, think better of it. Let me leave this dreary spot, where,
+indeed, as long as I am thus alone, I can enjoy no comfort. Let me come
+to you. I will put up with any thing for the sake of seeing you, though
+it be but once a day. Any garret or cellar in the dirtiest lane or
+darkest alley will be good enough for me. I will think it a palace, so
+that I can _but_ see you now and then.
+
+Do not refuse--do not argue with me, so fond you always are of arguing!
+My heart is set upon your compliance. And yet, dearly as I prize your
+company, I would not ask it, if I thought there was any thing improper.
+You say there is, and you talk about it in a way that I do not
+understand. For my sake, you tell me, you refuse; but let me entreat you
+to comply for my sake.
+
+Your pen cannot teach me like your tongue. You write me long letters,
+and tell me a great deal in them; but my soul droops when I call to mind
+your voice and your looks, and think how long a time must pass before I
+see you and hear you again. I have no spirit to think upon the words and
+paper before me. My eye and my thought wander far away.
+
+I bethink me how many questions I might ask you; how many doubts you
+might clear up if you were but within hearing. If you were but close to
+me; but I cannot ask them here. I am too poor a creature at the pen,
+and, somehow or another, it always happens, I can only write about
+myself or about you. By the time I have said all this, I have tired my
+fingers, and when I set about telling you how this poem and that story
+have affected me, I am at a loss for words; I am bewildered and bemazed,
+as it were.
+
+It is not so when we talk to one another. With your arm about me, and
+your sweet face close to mine, I can prattle forever. Then my heart
+overflows at my lips. After hours thus spent, it seems as if there were
+a thousand things still to be said. Then I can tell you what the book
+has told me. I can repeat scores of verses by heart, though I heard them
+only once read; but it is because _you_ have read them to me.
+
+Then there is nobody here to answer my questions. They never look into
+books. They hate books. They think it waste of time to read. Even Peggy,
+who you say has naturally a strong mind, wonders what I can find to
+amuse myself in a book. In her playful mood, she is always teasing me to
+lay it aside.
+
+I do not mind her, for I like to read; but, if I did not like it before,
+I could not help doing so ever since you told me that nobody could gain
+your love who was not fond of books. And yet, though I like it on that
+account more than I did, I don't read somehow so earnestly and
+understand so well as I used to do when my mind was all at ease, always
+frolicsome, and ever upon _tiptoe_, as I may say.
+
+How strangely (have you not observed it?) I am altered of late!--I, that
+was ever light of heart, the very soul of gayety, brimfull of glee, am
+now demure as our old _tabby_--and not half as wise. Tabby had wit
+enough to keep her paws out of the coals, whereas poor I have--but no
+matter what. It will never come to pass, I see that. So many reasons for
+every thing! Such looking forward! Arthur, are not men sometimes too
+_wise_ to be happy?
+
+I am now _so_ grave. Not one smile can Peggy sometimes get from me,
+though she tries for it the whole day. But I know how it comes. Strange,
+indeed, if, losing father and sister, and thrown upon the wide world,
+penniless and _friendless_ too, now that _you_ forget me, I should
+continue to smile. No. I never shall smile again. At least, while I stay
+here, I never shall, I believe.
+
+If a certain somebody suffer me to live with him,--_near_ him, I
+mean,--perhaps the sight of him as he enters the door, perhaps the sound
+of his voice, asking, "Where is my Bess?" might produce a smile. Such a
+one as the very thought produces now,--yet not, I hope, so transient,
+and so quickly followed by a tear. Women are born, they say, to trouble,
+and tears are given them for their relief. 'Tis all very true.
+
+Let it be as I wish, will you? If Oliver bring not back good tidings, if
+he bring not a letter from thee, or thy letter still refuses my
+request,--I don't know what may happen. Consent, if you love your poor
+girl.
+
+ E.H.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+
+The reading of this letter, though it made me mournful, did not hinder
+me from paying the visit I intended. My friend noticed my discomposure.
+
+"What, Arthur! thou art quite the 'penseroso' to-night. Come, let me
+cheer thee with a song. Thou shalt have thy favourite ditty." She
+stepped to the instrument, and, with more than airy lightness, touched
+and sung:--
+
+ "Now knit hands and beat the ground
+ In a light, fantastic round,
+ Till the telltale sun descry
+ Our conceal'd solemnity."
+
+Her music, though blithsome and aerial, was not sufficient for the end.
+My cheerfulness would not return even at her bidding. She again noticed
+my sedateness, and inquired into the cause.
+
+"This girl of mine," said I, "has infected me with her own sadness.
+There is a letter I have just received." She took it and began to read.
+
+Meanwhile, I placed myself before her, and fixed my eyes steadfastly
+upon her features. There is no book in which I read with more pleasure
+than the face of woman. _That_ is generally more full of meaning, and of
+better meaning too, than the hard and inflexible lineaments of man; and
+_this_ woman's face has no parallel.
+
+She read it with visible emotion. Having gone through it, she did not
+lift her eye from the paper, but continued silent, as if buried in
+thought. After some time, (for I would not interrupt the pause,) she
+addressed me thus:--
+
+"This girl seems to be very anxious to be with you."
+
+"As much as I am that she should be so." My friend's countenance
+betrayed some perplexity. As soon as I perceived it, I said, "Why are
+you thus grave?" Some little confusion appeared, as if she would not
+have her gravity discovered. "There again," said I, "new tokens in your
+face, my good mamma, of something which you will not mention. Yet, sooth
+to say, this is not your first perplexity. I have noticed it before, and
+wondered. It happens only when my _Bess_ is introduced. Something in
+relation to her it must be, but what I cannot imagine. Why does _her_
+name, particularly, make you thoughtful, disturbed, dejected? There
+now--but I must know the reason. You don't agree with me in my notions
+of this girl, I fear, and you will not disclose your thoughts."
+
+By this time, she had gained her usual composure, and, without noticing
+my comments on her looks, said, "Since you are both of one mind, why
+does she not leave the country?"
+
+"That cannot be, I believe. Mrs. Stevens says it would be disreputable.
+I am no proficient in etiquette, and must, therefore, in affairs of this
+kind, be guided by those who are. But would to heaven I were truly her
+father or brother! Then all difficulties would be done away."
+
+"Can you seriously wish that?"
+
+"Why, no. I believe it would be more rational to wish that the world
+would suffer me to act the fatherly or brotherly part, without the
+relationship."
+
+"And is that the only part you wish to act towards this girl?"
+
+"Certainly, the only part."
+
+"You surprise me. Have you not confessed your love for her?"
+
+"I _do_ love her. There is nothing upon earth more dear to me than my
+_Bess_."
+
+"But love is of different kinds. She was loved by her father----"
+
+"Less than by me. He was a good man, but not of lively feelings.
+Besides, he had another daughter, and they shared his love between them;
+but she has no sister to share _my_ love. Calamity, too, has endeared
+her to me; I am all her consolation, dependence, and hope, and nothing,
+surely, can induce me to abandon her."
+
+"Her reliance upon you for happiness," replied my friend, with a sigh,
+"is plain enough."
+
+"It is; but why that sigh? And yet I understand it. It remonstrates with
+me on my incapacity for her support. I know it well, but it is wrong to
+be cast down. I have youth, health, and spirits, and ought not to
+despair of living for my own benefit and hers; but you sigh again, and
+it is impossible to keep my courage when _you_ sigh. Do tell me what you
+mean by it."
+
+"You partly guessed the cause. She trusts to you for happiness, but I
+somewhat suspect she trusts in vain."
+
+"In vain! I beseech you, tell me why you think so."
+
+"You say you love her: why then not make her your wife?"
+
+"My wife! Surely her extreme youth, and my destitute condition, will
+account for that."
+
+"She is fifteen; the age of delicate fervour, of inartificial love, and
+suitable enough for marriage. As to your condition, you may live more
+easily together than apart. She has no false taste or perverse desires
+to gratify. She has been trained in simple modes and habits. Besides,
+that objection can be removed another way. But are these all your
+objections?"
+
+"Her youth I object to, merely in connection with her mind. She is too
+little improved to be my wife. She wants that solidity of mind, that
+maturity of intelligence which ten years more may possibly give her, but
+which she cannot have at this age."
+
+"You are a very prudential youth: then you are willing to wait ten years
+for a wife?"
+
+"Does that follow? Because my Bess will not be qualified for wedlock in
+less time, does it follow that I must wait for her?"
+
+"I spoke on the supposition that you loved her."
+
+"And that is true; but love is satisfied with studying her happiness as
+her father or brother. Some years hence, perhaps in half a year, (for
+this passion, called wedded or _marriage-wishing_ love, is of sudden
+growth,) my mind may change and nothing may content me but to have Bess
+for my wife. Yet I do not expect it."
+
+"Then you are determined against marriage with this girl?"
+
+"Of course; until that love comes which I feel not now; but which, no
+doubt, will come, when Bess has had the benefit of five or eight years
+more, unless previously excited by another."
+
+"All this is strange, Arthur. I have heretofore supposed that you
+actually loved (I mean with the _marriage-seeking_ passion) your
+_Bess_."
+
+"I believe I once did; but it happened at a time when marriage was
+improper; in the life of her father and sister, and when I had never
+known in what female excellence consisted. Since that time my happier
+lot has cast me among women so far above Eliza Hadwin,--so far above,
+and so widely different from any thing which time is likely to make
+her,--that, I own, nothing appears more unlikely than that I shall ever
+love her."
+
+"Are you not a little capricious in that respect, my good friend? You
+have praised your _Bess_ as rich in natural endowments; as having an
+artless purity and rectitude of mind, which somewhat supersedes the use
+of formal education; as being full of sweetness and tenderness, and in
+her person a very angel of loveliness."
+
+"All that is true. I never saw features and shape so delicately
+beautiful; I never knew so young a mind so quick-sighted and so firm;
+but, nevertheless, she is not the creature whom I would call my _wife_.
+My bosom-slave; counsellor; friend; the mother; the pattern; the
+tutoress of my children, must be a different creature."
+
+"But what are the attributes of this _desirable_ which Bess wants?"
+
+"Every thing she wants. Age, capacity, acquirements, person, features,
+hair, complexion, all, all are different from this girl's."
+
+"And pray of what kind may they be?"
+
+"I cannot portray them in words--but yes, I can:--The creature whom I
+shall worship:--it sounds oddly, but, I verily believe, the sentiment
+which I shall feel for my wife will be more akin to worship than any
+thing else. I shall never love but such a creature as I now image to
+myself, and _such_ a creature will deserve, or almost deserve, worship.
+But this creature, I was going to say, must be the exact counterpart, my
+good mamma--of _yourself_."
+
+This was said very earnestly, and with eyes and manner that fully
+expressed my earnestness; perhaps my expressions were unwittingly strong
+and emphatic, for she started and blushed, but the cause of her
+discomposure, whatever it was, was quickly removed, and she said,--
+
+"Poor Bess! This will be sad news to thee!"
+
+"Heaven forbid!" said I; "of what moment can my opinions be to her?"
+
+"Strange questioner that thou art. Thou knowest that her gentle heart is
+touched with love. See how it shows itself in the tender and inimitable
+strain of this epistle. Does not this sweet ingenuousness bewitch you?"
+
+"It does so, and I love, beyond expression, the sweet girl; but my love
+is, in some inconceivable way, different from the passion which that
+_other_ creature will produce. She is no stranger to my thoughts. I will
+impart every thought over and over to her. I question not but I shall
+make her happy without forfeiting my own."
+
+"Would marriage with her be a forfeiture of your happiness?"
+
+"Not absolutely or forever, I believe. I love her company. Her absence
+for a long time is irksome. I cannot express the delight with which I
+see and hear her. To mark her features, beaming with vivacity; playful
+in her pleasures; to hold her in my arms, and listen to her prattle,
+always musically voluble, always sweetly tender, or artlessly
+intelligent--and this you will say is the dearest privilege of marriage;
+and so it is; and dearly should I prize it; and yet, I fear my heart
+would droop as often as that _other_ image should occur to my fancy. For
+then, you know, it would occur as something never to be possessed by me.
+
+"Now, this image might, indeed, seldom occur. The intervals, at least,
+would be serene. It would be my interest to prolong these intervals as
+much as possible, and my endeavours to this end would, no doubt, have
+some effect. Besides, the bitterness of this reflection would be
+lessened by contemplating, at the same time, the happiness of my beloved
+girl.
+
+"I should likewise have to remember, that to continue unmarried would
+not necessarily secure me the possession of the _other_ good----"
+
+"But these reflections, my friend," (broke she in upon me,) "are of as
+much force to induce you to marry, as to reconcile you to a marriage
+already contracted."
+
+"Perhaps they are. Assuredly, I have not a hope that the _fancied_
+excellence will ever be mine. Such happiness is not the lot of humanity,
+and is, least of all, within my reach."
+
+"Your diffidence," replied my friend, in a timorous accent, "has not
+many examples; but your character, without doubt, is all your own,
+possessing all and disclaiming all,--is, in few words, your picture."
+
+"I scarcely understand you. Do you think I ever shall be happy to that
+degree which I have imagined? Think you I shall ever meet with an exact
+copy of _yourself_?"
+
+"Unfortunate you will be, if you do not meet with many better. Your
+Bess, in personals, is, beyond measure, _my_ superior, and in mind,
+allowing for difference in years, quite as much so."
+
+"But that," returned I, with quickness and fervour, "is not the object.
+The very counterpart of _you_ I want; neither worse nor better, nor
+different in any thing. Just such form, such features, such hues. Just
+that melting voice, and, above all, the same habits of thinking and
+conversing. In thought, word, and deed; gesture, look, and form, that
+rare and precious creature whom I shall love must be your resemblance.
+Your----"
+
+"Have done with these comparisons," interrupted she, in some hurry, "and
+let us return to the country-girl, thy Bess.
+
+"You once, my friend, wished me to treat this girl of yours as my
+sister. Do you know what the duties of a sister are?"
+
+"They imply no more kindness or affection than you already feel towards
+my Bess. Are you not her sister?"
+
+"I ought to have been so. I ought to have been proud of the relation you
+ascribe to me, but I have not performed any of its duties. I blush to
+think upon the coldness and perverseness of my heart. With such means as
+I possess, of giving happiness to others, I have been thoughtless and
+inactive to a strange degree; perhaps, however, it is not yet too late.
+Are you still willing to invest me with all the rights of an elder
+sister over this girl? And will she consent, think you?"
+
+"Certainly she will; she has."
+
+"Then the first act of sistership will be to take her from the country;
+from persons on whose kindness she has no natural claim, whose manners
+and characters are unlike her own, and with whom no improvement can be
+expected, and bring her back to her sister's house and bosom, to provide
+for her subsistence and education, and watch over her happiness.
+
+"I will not be a nominal sister. I will not be a sister by halves. _All_
+the rights of that relation I will have, or none. As for you, you have
+claims upon her on which I must be permitted to judge, as becomes the
+elder sister, who, by the loss of all other relations, must occupy the
+place, possess the rights, and fulfil the duties, of father, mother, and
+brother.
+
+"She has now arrived at an age when longer to remain in a cold and
+churlish soil will stunt her growth and wither her blossoms. We must
+hasten to transplant her to a genial element and a garden well enclosed.
+Having so long neglected this charming plant, it becomes me henceforth
+to take her wholly to myself.
+
+"And now, for it is no longer in her or your power to take back the
+gift, since she is fully mine, I will charge you with the office of
+conducting her hither. I grant it you as a favour. Will you go?"
+
+"Go! I will fly!" I exclaimed, in an ecstasy of joy, "on pinions swifter
+than the wind. Not the lingering of an instant will I bear. Look! one,
+two, three--thirty minutes after nine. I will reach Curling's gate by
+the morn's dawn. I will put my girl into a chaise, and by noon she
+shall throw herself into the arms of her sister. But first, shall I not,
+in some way, manifest my gratitude?"
+
+My senses were bewildered, and I knew not what I did. I intended to
+kneel, as to my mother or my deity; but, instead of that, I clasped her
+in my arms, and kissed her lips fervently. I stayed not to discover the
+effects of this insanity, but left the room and the house, and, calling
+for a moment at Stevens's, left word with the servant, my friend being
+gone abroad, that I should not return till the morrow.
+
+Never was a lighter heart, a gayety more overflowing and more buoyant,
+than mine. All cold from a boisterous night, at a chilly season, all
+weariness from a rugged and miry road, were charmed away. I might have
+ridden; but I could not brook delay, even the delay of inquiring for and
+equipping a horse. I might thus have saved myself fatigue, and have lost
+no time; but my mind was in too great a tumult for deliberation and
+forecast. I saw nothing but the image of my girl, whom my tidings would
+render happy.
+
+The way was longer than my fond imagination had foreseen. I did not
+reach Curling's till an hour after sunrise. The distance was full
+thirty-five miles. As I hastened up the green lane leading to the house,
+I spied my Bess passing through a covered way, between the dwelling and
+kitchen. I caught her eye. She stopped and held up her hands, and then
+ran into my arms.
+
+"What means my girl? Why this catching of the breath? Why this sobbing?
+Look at me, my love. It is Arthur,--he who has treated you with
+forgetfulness, neglect, and cruelty."
+
+"Oh, do not," she replied, hiding her face with her hand. "One single
+reproach, added to my own, will kill me. That foolish, wicked letter--I
+could tear my fingers for writing it."
+
+"But," said I, "I will kiss them;" and put them to my lips. "They have
+told me the wishes of my girl. They have enabled me to gratify her
+wishes. I have come to carry thee this very moment to town."
+
+"Lord bless me, Arthur," said she, lost in a sweet confusion, and her
+cheeks, always glowing, glowing still more deeply, "indeed, I did not
+mean----I meant only----I will stay here----I would rather stay----"
+
+"It grieves me to hear that," said I, with earnestness; "I thought I was
+studying our mutual happiness."
+
+"It grieves you? Don't say so. I would not grieve you for the world;
+but, indeed, indeed, it is too soon. Such a girl as I am not yet fit
+to--live in your city." Again she hid her glowing face in my bosom.
+
+"Sweet consciousness! Heavenly innocence!" thought I; "may Achsa's
+conjectures prove false!--You have mistaken my design, for I do not
+intend to carry you to town with such a view as you have hinted; but
+merely to place you with a beloved friend, with Achsa Fielding, of whom
+already you know so much, where we shall enjoy each other's company
+without restraint or intermission."
+
+I then proceeded to disclose to her the plan suggested by my friend, and
+to explain all the consequences that would flow from it. I need not say
+that she assented to the scheme. She was all rapture and gratitude.
+Preparations for departure were easily and speedily made. I hired a
+chaise of a neighbouring farmer, and, according to my promise, by noon
+the same day, delivered the timid and bashful girl into the arms of her
+new sister.
+
+She was received with the utmost tenderness, not only by Mrs. Fielding,
+but by all my friends. Her affectionate heart was encouraged to pour
+forth all its feeling as into the bosom of a mother. She was reinspired
+with confidence. Her want of experience was supplied by the gentlest
+admonitions and instructions. In every plan for her improvement
+suggested by her new _mamma_, (for she never called her by any other
+name,) she engaged with docility and eagerness; and her behaviour and
+her progress exceeded the most sanguine hopes that I had formed as to
+the softness of her temper and the acuteness of her genius.
+
+Those graces which a polished education, and intercourse with the better
+classes of society, are adapted to give, my girl possessed, in some
+degree, by a native and intuitive refinement and sagacity of mind. All
+that was to be obtained from actual observation and instruction was
+obtained without difficulty; and in a short time nothing but the
+affectionate simplicity and unperverted feelings of the country-girl
+bespoke the original condition.
+
+"What art so busy about, Arthur? Always at thy pen of late. Come, I must
+know the fruit of all this toil and all this meditation. I am determined
+to scrape acquaintance with Haller and Linnaeus. I will begin this very
+day. All one's friends, you know, should be ours. Love has made many a
+patient, and let me see if it cannot, in my case, make a physician. But,
+first, what is all this writing about?"
+
+"Mrs. Wentworth has put me upon a strange task,--not disagreeable,
+however, but such as I should, perhaps, have declined, had not the
+absence of my Bess, and her mamma, made the time hang somewhat heavy. I
+have, oftener than once, and far more circumstantially than now, told
+her my adventures, but she is not satisfied. She wants a written
+narrative, for some purpose which she tells me she will disclose to me
+hereafter.
+
+"Luckily, my friend Stevens has saved me more than half the trouble. He
+has done me the favour to compile much of my history with his own hand.
+I cannot imagine what could prompt him to so wearisome an undertaking;
+but he says that adventures and a destiny so singular as mine ought not
+to be abandoned to forgetfulness like any vulgar and _every-day_
+existence. Besides, when he wrote it, he suspected that it might be
+necessary to the safety of my reputation and my life, from the
+consequences of my connection with Welbeck. Time has annihilated that
+danger. All enmities and all suspicions are buried with that ill-fated
+wretch. Wortley has been won by my behaviour, and confides in my
+integrity now as much as he formerly suspected it. I am glad, however,
+that the task was performed. It has saved me a world of writing. I had
+only to take up the broken thread, and bring it down to the period of my
+present happiness; and this was done, just as you tripped along the
+entry this morning.
+
+"To bed, my friend; it is late, and this delicate frame is not half so
+able to encounter fatigue as a youth spent in the hay-field and the
+dairy might have been expected to be."
+
+"I will, but let me take these sheets along with me. I will read them,
+that I am determined, before I sleep, and watch if you have told the
+whole truth."
+
+"Do so, if you please; but remember one thing. Mrs. Wentworth requested
+me to write not as if it were designed for her perusal, but for those
+who have no previous knowledge of her or of me. 'Twas an odd request. I
+cannot imagine what she means by it; but she never acts without good
+reason, and I have done so. And now, withdraw, my dear, and farewell."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+
+Move on, my quill! wait not for my guidance. Reanimated with thy
+master's spirit, all airy light! A heyday rapture! A mounting impulse
+sways him: lifts him from the earth.
+
+I must, cost what it will, rein in this upward-pulling,
+forward-going--what shall I call it? But there are times, and now is one
+of them, when words are poor.
+
+It will not do--down this hill, up that steep; through this thicket,
+over that hedge--I have _laboured_ to fatigue myself: to reconcile me to
+repose; to lolling on a sofa; to poring over a book, to any thing that
+might win for my heart a respite from these throbs; to deceive me into a
+few _tolerable_ moments of forgetfulness.
+
+Let me see; they tell me this is Monday night. Only three days yet to
+come! If thus restless to-day; if my heart thus bounds till its mansion
+scarcely can hold it, what must be my state to-morrow! What next day!
+What as the hour hastens on; as the sun descends; as my hand touches
+hers in sign of wedded unity, of love without interval; of concord
+without end!
+
+I must quell these tumults. They will disable me else. They will wear
+out all my strength. They will drain away life itself. But who could
+have thought! So soon! Not three months since I first set eyes upon her.
+Not three weeks since our plighted love, and only three days to
+terminate suspense and give me _all_.
+
+I must compel myself to quiet; to sleep. I must find some refuge from
+anticipations so excruciating. All extremes are agonies. A joy like this
+is too big for this narrow tenement. I must thrust it forth; I must bar
+and bolt it out for a time, or these frail walls will burst asunder.
+The pen is a pacifier. It checks the mind's career; it circumscribes her
+wanderings. It traces out and compels us to adhere to one path. It ever
+was my friend. Often it has blunted my vexations; hushed my stormy
+passions; turned my peevishness to soothing; my fierce revenge to
+heart-dissolving pity.
+
+Perhaps it will befriend me now. It may temper my impetuous wishes; lull
+my intoxication; and render my happiness supportable; and, indeed, it
+has produced partly this effect already. My blood, within the few
+minutes thus employed, flows with less destructive rapidity. My thoughts
+range themselves in less disorder. And, now that the conquest is
+effected, what shall I say? I must continue at the pen, or shall
+immediately relapse.
+
+What shall I say? Let me look back upon the steps that led me hither.
+Let me recount the preliminaries. I cannot do better.
+
+And first as to Achsa Fielding,--to describe this woman.
+
+To recount, in brief, so much of her history as has come to my knowledge
+will best account for that zeal, almost to idolatry, with which she has,
+ever since I thoroughly knew her, been regarded by me.
+
+Never saw I one to whom the term _lovely_ more truly belonged. And yet
+in stature she is too low; in complexion dark and almost sallow; and her
+eyes, though black and of piercing lustre, have a cast which I cannot
+well explain. It lessens without destroying their lustre and their force
+to charm; but all personal defects are outweighed by her heart and her
+intellect. There is the secret of her power to entrance the soul of the
+listener and beholder. It is not only when she sings that her utterance
+is musical. It is not only when the occasion is urgent and the topic
+momentous that her eloquence is rich and flowing. They are always so.
+
+I had vowed to love her and serve her, and been her frequent visitant,
+long before I was acquainted with her past life. I had casually picked
+up some intelligence, from others, or from her own remarks. I knew very
+soon that she was English by birth, and had been only a year and a half
+in America; that she had scarcely passed her twenty-fifth year, and was
+still embellished with all the graces of youth; that she had been a
+wife; but was uninformed whether the knot had been untied by death or
+divorce; that she possessed considerable, and even splendid, fortune;
+but the exact amount, and all besides these particulars, were unknown to
+me till some time after our acquaintance was begun.
+
+One evening she had been talking very earnestly on the influence
+annexed, in Great Britain, to birth, and had given me some examples of
+this influence. Meanwhile my eyes were fixed steadfastly on hers. The
+peculiarity in their expression never before affected me so strongly. A
+vague resemblance to something seen elsewhere, on the same day,
+occurred, and occasioned me to exclaim, suddenly, in a pause of her
+discourse,--
+
+"As I live, my good mamma, those eyes of yours have told me a secret. I
+almost think they spoke to me; and I am not less amazed at the
+strangeness than at the distinctness of their story."
+
+"And, pr'ythee, what have they said?"
+
+"Perhaps I was mistaken. I might have been deceived by a fancied voice,
+or have confounded one word with another near akin to it; but let me die
+if I did not think they said that you were--_a Jew_."
+
+At this sound, her features were instantly veiled with the deepest
+sorrow and confusion. She put her hand to her eyes, the tears started,
+and she sobbed. My surprise at this effect of my words was equal to my
+contrition. I besought her to pardon me for having thus unknowingly
+alarmed and grieved her.
+
+After she had regained some composure, she said, "You have not offended,
+Arthur. Your surmise was just and natural, and could not always have
+escaped you. Connected with that word are many sources of anguish, which
+time has not, and never will, dry up; and the less I think of past
+events the less will my peace be disturbed. I was desirous that you
+should know nothing of me but what you see; nothing but the present and
+the future, merely that no allusions might occur in our conversation
+which will call up sorrows and regrets that will avail nothing.
+
+"I now perceive the folly of endeavouring to keep you in ignorance, and
+shall therefore, once for all, inform you of what has befallen me, that
+your inquiries and suggestions may be made and fully satisfied at once,
+and your curiosity have no motive for calling back my thoughts to what I
+ardently desire to bury in oblivion.
+
+"My father was indeed a _Jew_, and one of the most opulent of his nation
+in London,--a Portuguese by birth, but came to London when a boy. He had
+few of the moral or external qualities of Jews; for I suppose there is
+some justice in the obloquy that follows them so closely. He was frugal
+without meanness, and cautious in his dealings, without extortion. I
+need not fear to say this, for it was the general voice.
+
+"Me, an only child, and, of course, the darling of my parents, they
+trained up in the most liberal manner. My education was purely English.
+I learned the same things and of the same masters with my neighbours.
+Except frequenting their church and repeating their creed, and partaking
+of the same food, I saw no difference between them and me. Hence I grew
+more indifferent, perhaps, than was proper, to the distinctions of
+religion. They were never enforced upon me. No pains were taken to fill
+me with scruples and antipathies. They never stood, as I may say, upon
+the threshold. They were often thought upon, but were vague and easily
+eluded or forgotten.
+
+"Hence it was that my heart too readily admitted impressions that more
+zeal and more parental caution would have saved me from. They could
+scarcely be avoided, as my society was wholly English, and my youth, my
+education, and my father's wealth made me an object of much attention.
+And the same causes that lulled to sleep my own watchfulness had the
+same effect upon that of others. To regret or to praise this remissness
+is now too late. Certain it is, that my destiny, and not a happy
+destiny, was fixed by it.
+
+"The fruit of this remissness was a passion for one who fully returned
+it. Almost as young as I, who was only sixteen; he knew as little as
+myself what obstacles the difference of our births was likely to raise
+between us. His father, Sir Ralph Fielding, a man nobly born, high in
+office, splendidly allied, could not be expected to consent to the
+marriage of his eldest son, in such green youth, to the daughter of an
+alien, a Portuguese, a Jew; but these impediments were not seen by my
+ignorance, and were overlooked by the youth's passion.
+
+"But, strange to tell, what common prudence would have so confidently
+predicted did not happen. Sir Ralph had a numerous family, likely to be
+still more so; had but slender patrimony; the income of his offices
+nearly made up his all. The young man was headstrong, impetuous, and
+would probably disregard the inclinations of his family. Yet the father
+would not consent but on one condition,--that of my admission to the
+English Church.
+
+"No very strenuous opposition to these terms could be expected from me.
+At so thoughtless an age, with an education so unfavourable to religious
+impressions; swayed, likewise, by the strongest of human passions; made
+somewhat impatient, by the company I kept, of the disrepute and scorn to
+which the Jewish nation are everywhere condemned, I could not be
+expected to be very averse to the scheme.
+
+"My fears as to what my father's decision would be were soon at an end.
+He loved his child too well to thwart her wishes in so essential a
+point. Finding in me no scruples, no unwillingness, he thought it absurd
+to be scrupulous for me. My own heart having abjured my religion, it was
+absurd to make any difficulty about a formal renunciation. These were
+his avowed reasons for concurrence, but time showed that he had probably
+other reasons, founded, indeed, in his regard for my happiness, but such
+as, if they had been known, would probably have strengthened into
+invincible the reluctance of my lover's family.
+
+"No marriage was ever attended with happier presages. The numerous
+relations of my husband admitted me with the utmost cordiality among
+them. My father's tenderness was unabated by this change, and those
+humiliations to which I had before been exposed were now no more; and
+every tie was strengthened, at the end of a year, by the feelings of a
+_mother_. I had need, indeed, to know a season of happiness, that I
+might be fitted to endure the sad reverses that succeeded. One after the
+other my disasters came, each one more heavy than the last, and in such
+swift succession that they hardly left me time to breathe.
+
+"I had scarcely left my chamber, I had scarcely recovered my usual
+health, and was able to press with true fervour the new and precious
+gift to my bosom, when melancholy tidings came. I was in the country, at
+the seat of my father-in-law, when the messenger arrived.
+
+"A shocking tale it was! and told abruptly, with every unpitying
+aggravation. I hinted to you once my father's death. The _kind_ of
+death--oh! my friend! It was horrible. He was then a placid, venerable
+old man; though many symptoms of disquiet had long before been
+discovered by my mother's watchful tenderness. Yet none could suspect
+him capable of such a deed; for none, so carefully had he conducted his
+affairs, suspected the havoc that mischance had made of his property.
+
+"I, that had so much reason to love my father,--I will leave you to
+imagine how I was affected by a catastrophe so dreadful, so
+unlooked-for. Much less could I suspect the cause of his despair; yet he
+had foreseen his ruin before my marriage; had resolved to defer it, for
+his daughter's and his wife's sake, as long as possible, but had still
+determined not to survive the day that should reduce him to indigence.
+The desperate act was thus preconcerted--thus deliberate.
+
+"The true state of his affairs was laid open by his death. The failure
+of great mercantile houses at Frankfort and Liege was the cause of his
+disasters.
+
+"Thus were my prospects shut in. That wealth which, no doubt, furnished
+the chief inducement with my husband's family to concur in his choice,
+was now suddenly exchanged for poverty.
+
+"Bred up, as I had been, in pomp and luxury; conscious that my wealth
+was my chief security from the contempt of the proud and bigoted, and my
+chief title to the station to which I had been raised, and which I the
+more delighted in because it enabled me to confer so great obligations
+on my husband,--what reverse could be harder than this, and how much
+bitterness was added by it to the grief occasioned by the violent death
+of my father!
+
+"Yet loss of fortune, though it mortified my pride, did not prove my
+worst calamity. Perhaps it was scarcely to be ranked with evils, since
+it furnished a touchstone by which my husband's affections were to be
+tried; especially as the issue of the trial was auspicious; for my
+misfortune seemed only to heighten the interest which my character had
+made for me in the hearts of all that knew me. The paternal regards of
+Sir Ralph had always been tender, but that tenderness seemed now to be
+redoubled.
+
+"New events made this consolation still more necessary. My unhappy
+mother!--She was nearer to the dreadful scene when it happened; had no
+surviving object to beguile her sorrow; was rendered, by long habit,
+more dependent upon fortune than her child.
+
+"A melancholy, always mute, was the first effect upon my mother. Nothing
+could charm her eye, or her ear. Sweet sounds that she once loved, and
+especially when her darling child was the warbler, were heard no longer.
+How, with streaming eyes, have I sat and watched the dear lady, and
+endeavoured to catch her eye, to rouse her attention!--But I must not
+think of these things.
+
+"But even this distress was little in comparison with what was to come.
+A frenzy thus mute, motionless, and vacant, was succeeded by fits,
+talkative, outrageous, requiring incessant superintendence, restraint,
+and even violence.
+
+"Why led you me thus back to my sad remembrances? Excuse me for the
+present. I will tell you the rest some other time; to-morrow."
+
+To-morrow, accordingly, my friend resumed her story.
+
+"Let me now make an end," said she, "of my mournful narrative, and
+never, I charge you, do any thing to revive it again.
+
+"Deep as was my despondency, occasioned by these calamities, I was not
+destitute of some joy. My husband and my child were lovely and
+affectionate. In their caresses, in their welfare, I found peace; and
+might still have found it, had there not been----. But why should I open
+afresh wounds which time has imperfectly closed? But the story must some
+time be told to you, and the sooner it is told and dismissed to
+forgetfulness the better.
+
+"My ill fate led me into company with a woman too well known in the idle
+and dissipated circles. Her character was not unknown to me. There was
+nothing in her features or air to obviate disadvantageous
+prepossessions. I sought not her intercourse; I rather shunned it, as
+unpleasing and discreditable, but she would not be repulsed.
+Self-invited, she made herself my frequent guest; took unsolicited part
+in my concerns; did me many kind offices; and, at length, in spite of my
+counter-inclination, won upon my sympathy and gratitude.
+
+"No one in the world, did I fondly think, had I less reason to fear than
+Mrs. Waring. Her character excited not the slightest apprehension for my
+own safety. She was upwards of forty, nowise remarkable for grace or
+beauty; tawdry in her dress; accustomed to render more conspicuous the
+traces of age by her attempts to hide them; the mother of a numerous
+family, with a mind but slenderly cultivated; always careful to save
+appearances; studiously preserving distance with my husband, and he,
+like myself, enduring rather than wishing her society. What could I fear
+from the arts of such a one?
+
+"But alas! the woman had consummate address. Patience, too, that nothing
+could tire. Watchfulness that none could detect. Insinuation the wiliest
+and most subtle. Thus wound she herself into my affections, by an
+unexampled perseverance in seeming kindness; by tender confidence; by
+artful glosses of past misconduct; by self-rebukes and feigned
+contritions.
+
+"Never were stratagems so intricate, dissimulation so profound! But
+still, that such a one should seduce my husband; young, generous,
+ambitious, impatient of contumely and reproach, and surely not
+indifferent; before this fatal intercourse, not indifferent to his wife
+and child!--Yet so it was!
+
+"I saw his discontents; his struggles; I heard him curse this woman, and
+the more deeply for my attempts, unconscious as I was of her
+machinations, to reconcile them to each other, to do away what seemed a
+causeless indignation, or antipathy against her. How little I suspected
+the nature of the conflict in his heart, between a new passion and the
+claims of pride; of conscience and of humanity; the claims of a child
+and a wife; a wife, already in affliction, and placing all that yet
+remained of happiness, in the firmness of his virtue; in the continuance
+of his love; a wife, at the very hour of his meditated flight, full of
+terrors at the near approach of an event whose agonies demand a double
+share of a husband's supporting, encouraging love----
+
+"Good Heaven! For what evils are some of thy creatures reserved!
+Resignation to thy decree, in the last and most cruel distress, was,
+indeed, a hard task.
+
+"He was gone. Some unavoidable engagement calling him to Hamburg was
+pleaded. Yet to leave me at such an hour! I dared not upbraid, nor
+object. The tale was so specious! The fortunes of a friend depended on
+his punctual journey. The falsehood of his story too soon made itself
+known. He was gone, in company with his detested paramour!
+
+"Yet, though my vigilance was easily deceived, it was not so with
+others. A creditor, who had his bond for three thousand pounds, pursued
+and arrested him at Harwich. He was thrown into prison, but his
+companion--let me, at least, say that in her praise--would not desert
+him. She took lodging near the place of his confinement, and saw him
+daily. That, had she not done it, and had my personal condition allowed,
+should have been my province.
+
+"Indignation and grief hastened the painful crisis with me. I did not
+weep that the second fruit of this unhappy union saw not the light. I
+wept only that this hour of agony was not, to its unfortunate mother,
+the last.
+
+"I felt not anger; I had nothing but compassion for Fielding. Gladly
+would I have recalled him to my arms and to virtue; I wrote, adjuring
+him, by all our past joys, to return; vowing only gratitude for his new
+affection, and claiming only the recompense of seeing him restored to
+his family; to liberty; to reputation.
+
+"But, alas! Fielding had a good but a proud heart. He looked upon his
+error with remorse, with self-detestation, and with the fatal belief
+that it could not be retrieved; shame made him withstand all my
+reasonings and persuasions, and, in the hurry of his feelings, he made
+solemn vows that he would, in the moment of restored liberty, abjure his
+country and his family forever. He bore indignantly the yoke of his new
+attachment, but he strove in vain to shake it off. Her behaviour, always
+yielding, doting, supplicative, preserved him in her fetters. Though
+upbraided, spurned, and banished from his presence, she would not leave
+him, but, by new efforts and new artifices, soothed, appeased, and won
+again and kept his tenderness.
+
+"What my entreaties were unable to effect, his father could not hope to
+accomplish. He offered to take him from prison; the creditor offered to
+cancel the bond, if he would return to me; but this condition he
+refused. All his kindred, and one who had been his bosom-friend from
+childhood, joined in beseeching his compliance with these conditions;
+but his pride, his dread of my merited reproaches, the merits and
+dissuasions of his new companion, whose sacrifices for his sake had not
+been small, were obstacles which nothing could subdue.
+
+"Far, indeed, was I from imposing these conditions. I waited only till,
+by certain arrangements, I could gather enough to pay his debts, to
+enable him to execute his vow: empty would have been my claims to his
+affection, if I could have suffered, with the means of his deliverance
+in my hands, my husband to remain a moment in prison.
+
+"The remains of my father's vast fortune was a jointure of a thousand
+pounds a year, settled on my mother, and, after her death, on me. My
+mother's helpless condition put this revenue into my disposal. By this
+means was I enabled, without the knowledge of my father-in-law or my
+husband, to purchase the debt, and dismiss him from prison. He set out
+instantly, in company with his paramour, to France.
+
+"When somewhat recovered from the shock of this calamity, I took up my
+abode with my mother. What she had was enough, as you perhaps will
+think, for plentiful subsistence; but to us, with habits of a different
+kind, it was little better than poverty. That reflection, my father's
+memory, my mother's deplorable state, which every year grew worse, and
+the late misfortune, were the chief companions of my thoughts.
+
+"The dear child, whose smiles were uninterrupted by his mother's
+afflictions, was some consolation in my solitude. To his instruction and
+to my mother's wants all my hours were devoted. I was sometimes not
+without the hope of better days. Full as my mind was of Fielding's
+merits, convinced by former proofs of his ardent and generous spirit, I
+trusted that time and reflection would destroy that spell by which he
+was now bound.
+
+"For some time, the progress of these reflections was not known. In
+leaving England, Fielding dropped all correspondence and connection with
+his native country. He parted with the woman at Rouen, leaving no trace
+behind him by which she might follow him, as she wished to do. She never
+returned to England, but died a twelvemonth afterwards in Switzerland.
+
+"As to me, I had only to muse day and night upon the possible destiny of
+this beloved fugitive. His incensed father cared not for him. He had
+cast him out of his paternal affections, ceased to make inquiries
+respecting him, and even wished never to hear of him again. My boy
+succeeded to my husband's place in his grandfather's affections, and in
+the hopes and views of the family; and his mother wanted nothing which
+their compassionate and respectful love could bestow.
+
+"Three long and tedious years passed away, and no tidings were received.
+Whether he were living or dead, nobody could tell. At length, an English
+traveller, going out of the customary road from Italy, met with
+Fielding, in a town in the Venaissin. His manners, habits, and language,
+had become French. He seemed unwilling to be recognised by an old
+acquaintance, but, not being able to avoid this, and becoming gradually
+familiar, he informed the traveller of many particulars in his present
+situation. It appeared that he had made himself useful to a neighbouring
+_seigneur_, in whose _chateau_ he had long lived on the footing of a
+brother. France he had resolved to make his future country, and, among
+other changes for that end, he had laid aside his English name, and
+taken that of his patron, which was _Perrin_. He had endeavoured to
+compensate himself for all other privations, by devoting himself to
+rural amusements and to study.
+
+"He carefully shunned all inquiries respecting me; but, when my name was
+mentioned by his friend, who knew well all that had happened, and my
+general welfare, together with that of his son, asserted, he showed deep
+sensibility, and even consented that I should be made acquainted with
+his situation.
+
+"I cannot describe the effect of this intelligence on me. My hopes of
+bringing him back to me were suddenly revived. I wrote him a letter, in
+which I poured forth my whole heart; but his answer contained avowals of
+all his former resolutions, to which time had only made his adherence
+more easy. A second and third letter were written, and an offer made to
+follow him to his retreat and share his exile; but all my efforts
+availed nothing. He solemnly and repeatedly renounced all the claims of
+a husband over me, and absolved me from every obligation as a wife.
+
+"His part in this correspondence was performed without harshness or
+contempt. A strange mixture there was of pathos and indifference; of
+tenderness and resolution. Hence I continually derived hope, which time,
+however, brought no nearer to certainty.
+
+"At the opening of the Revolution, the name of Perrin appeared among the
+deputies to the constituent assembly for the district in which he
+resided. He had thus succeeded in gaining all the rights of a French
+citizen; and the hopes of his return became almost extinct; but that,
+and every other hope respecting him, has since been totally extinguished
+by his marriage with Marguerite d'Almont, a young lady of great merit
+and fortune, and a native of Avignon.
+
+"A long period of suspense was now at an end, and left me in a state
+almost as full of anguish as that which our first separation produced.
+My sorrows were increased by my mother's death, and, this incident
+freeing me from those restraints upon my motions which before existed, I
+determined to come to America.
+
+"My son was now eight years old, and, his grandfather claiming the
+province of his instruction, I was persuaded to part with him, that he
+might be sent to a distant school. Thus was another tie removed, and, in
+spite of the well-meant importunities of my friends, I persisted in my
+scheme of crossing the ocean."
+
+I could not help, at this part of her narration, expressing my surprise
+that any motives were strong enough to recommend this scheme.
+
+"It was certainly a freak of despair. A few months would, perhaps, have
+allayed the fresh grief, and reconciled me to my situation; but I would
+not pause or deliberate. My scheme was opposed by my friends with great
+earnestness. During my voyage, affrighted by the dangers which
+surrounded me, and to which I was wholly unused, I heartily repented of
+my resolution; but now, methinks, I have reason to rejoice at my
+perseverance. I have come into a scene and society so new, I have had so
+many claims made upon my ingenuity and fortitude, that my mind has been
+diverted in some degree from former sorrows. There are even times when I
+wholly forget them, and catch myself indulging in cheerful reveries.
+
+"I have often reflected with surprise on the nature of my own mind. It
+is eight years since my father's violent death. How few of my hours
+since that period have been blessed with serenity! How many nights and
+days, in hateful and lingering succession, have been bathed in tears and
+tormented with regrets! That I am still alive, with so many causes of
+death, and with such a slow-consuming malady, is surely to be wondered
+at.
+
+"I believe the worst foes of man, at least of men in grief, are solitude
+and idleness. The same eternally-occurring round of objects feeds his
+disease, and the effects of mere vacancy and uniformity are sometimes
+mistaken for those of grief. Yes, I am glad I came to America. My
+relations are importunate for my return, and till lately I had some
+thoughts of it; but I think now I shall stay where I am for the rest of
+my days.
+
+"Since I arrived, I am become more of a student than I used to be. I
+always loved literature, but never, till of late, had I a mind enough at
+ease to read with advantage. I now find pleasure in the occupation which
+I never expected to find.
+
+"You see in what manner I live. The letters which I brought secured me a
+flattering reception from the best people in your country; but scenes of
+gay resort had nothing to attract me, and I quickly withdrew to that
+seclusion in which you now find me. Here, always at leisure, and
+mistress of every laudable means of gratification, I am not without the
+belief of serene days yet to come."
+
+I now ventured to inquire what were her latest tidings of her husband.
+
+"At the opening of the Revolution, I told you, he became a champion of
+the people. By his zeal and his efforts he acquired such importance as
+to be deputed to the National Assembly. In this post he was the adherent
+of violent measures, till the subversion of monarchy; and then, when too
+late for his safety, he checked his career."
+
+"And what has since become of him?"
+
+She sighed deeply. "You were yesterday reading a list of the proscribed
+under Robespierre. I checked you. I had good reason. But this subject
+grows too painful; let us change it."
+
+Some time after, I ventured to renew this topic; and discovered that
+Fielding, under his new name of Perrin d'Almont, was among the outlawed
+deputies of last year,[1] and had been slain in resisting the officers
+sent to arrest him. My friend had been informed that his _wife_,
+Marguerite d'Almont, whom she had reason to believe a woman of great
+merit, had eluded persecution, and taken refuge in some part of America.
+She had made various attempts, but in vain, to find out her retreat.
+"Ah!" said I, "you must commission me to find her. I will hunt her
+through the continent from Penobscot to Savannah. I will not leave a
+nook unsearched."
+
+[Footnote 1: 1793.]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+
+None will be surprised that, to a woman thus unfortunate and thus
+deserving, my heart willingly rendered up all its sympathies; that, as I
+partook of all her grief, I hailed, with equal delight, those omens of
+felicity which now, at length, seemed to play in her fancy.
+
+I saw her often,--as often as my engagements would permit, and oftener
+than I allowed myself to visit any other. In this I was partly selfish.
+So much entertainment, so much of the best instruction, did her
+conversation afford me, that I never had enough of it.
+
+Her experience had been so much larger than mine, and so wholly
+different, and she possessed such unbounded facility of recounting all
+she had seen and felt, and absolute sincerity and unreserve in this
+respect were so fully established between us, that I can imagine nothing
+equally instructive and delightful with her conversation.
+
+Books are cold, jejune, vexatious in their sparingness of information at
+one time and their impertinent loquacity at another. Besides, all they
+choose to give they give at once; they allow no questions, offer no
+further explanations, and bend not to the caprices of our curiosity.
+They talk to us behind a screen. Their tone is lifeless and monotonous.
+They charm not our attention by mute significances of gesture and looks.
+They spread no light upon their meaning by cadences and emphasis and
+pause.
+
+How different was Mrs. Fielding's discourse! So versatile; so bending to
+the changes of the occasion; so obsequious to my curiosity, and so
+abundant in that very knowledge in which I was most deficient, and on
+which I set the most value, the knowledge of the human heart; of
+society as it existed in another world, more abundant in the varieties
+of customs and characters, than I had ever had the power to witness.
+
+Partly selfish I have said my motives were, but not so, as long as I saw
+that my friend derived pleasure, in her turn, from my company. Not that
+I could add directly to her knowledge or pleasure, but that expansion of
+heart, that ease of utterance and flow of ideas which always were
+occasioned by my approach, were sources of true pleasure of which she
+had been long deprived, and for which her privation had given her a
+higher relish than ever.
+
+She lived in great affluence and independence, but made use of her
+privileges of fortune chiefly to secure to herself the command of her
+own time. She had been long ago tired and disgusted with the dull and
+fulsome uniformity and parade of the play-house and ballroom. Formal
+visits were endured as mortifications and penances, by which the
+delights of privacy and friendly intercourse were by contrast increased.
+Music she loved, but never sought it in places of public resort, or from
+the skill of mercenary performers; and books were not the least of her
+pleasures.
+
+As to me, I was wax in her hand. Without design and without effort, I
+was always of that form she wished me to assume. My own happiness became
+a secondary passion, and her gratification the great end of my being.
+When with her, I thought not of myself. I had scarcely a separate or
+independent existence, since my senses were occupied by her, and my mind
+was full of those ideas which her discourse communicated. To meditate on
+her looks and words, and to pursue the means suggested by my own
+thoughts, or by her, conducive, in any way, to her good, was all my
+business.
+
+"What a fate," said I, at the conclusion of one of our interviews, "has
+been yours! But, thank Heaven, the storm has disappeared before the age
+of sensibility has gone past, and without drying up every source of
+happiness. You are still young; all your powers unimpaired; rich in the
+compassion and esteem of the world; wholly independent of the claims and
+caprices of others; amply supplied with that means of usefulness,
+called money; wise in that experience which only adversity can give.
+Past evils and sufferings, if incurred and endured without guilt, if
+called to view without remorse, make up the materials of present joy.
+They cheer our most dreary hours with the widespread accents of 'well
+done,' and they heighten our pleasures into somewhat of celestial
+brilliancy, by furnishing a deep, a ruefully-deep, contrast.
+
+"From this moment, I will cease to weep for you. I will call you the
+happiest of women. I will share with you your happiness by witnessing
+it; but that shall not content me. I must some way contribute to it.
+Tell me how I shall serve you. What can I do to make you happier? Poor
+am I in every thing but zeal, but still I may do something. What--pray
+tell me, what can I do?"
+
+She looked at me with sweet and solemn significance. What it was exactly
+I could not divine, yet I was strangely affected by it. It was but a
+glance, instantly withdrawn. She made me no answer.
+
+"You must not be silent; you _must_ tell me what I can do for you.
+Hitherto I have done nothing. All the service is on your side. Your
+conversation has been my study, a delightful study, but the profit has
+only been mine. Tell me how I can be grateful: my voice and manner, I
+believe, seldom belie my feelings." At this time, I had almost done what
+a second thought made me suspect to be unauthorized. Yet I cannot tell
+why. My heart had nothing in it but reverence and admiration. Was she
+not the substitute of my lost mamma? Would I not have clasped that
+beloved shade? Yet the two beings were not just the same, or I should
+not, as now, have checked myself, and only pressed her hand to my lips.
+
+"Tell me," repeated I, "what can I do to serve you? I read to you a
+little now, and you are pleased with my reading. I copy for you when you
+want the time. I guide the reins for you when you choose to ride. Humble
+offices, indeed, though, perhaps, all that a raw youth like me can do
+for you; but I can be still more assiduous. I can read several hours in
+the day, instead of one. I can write ten times as much as now.
+
+"Are you not my lost mamma come back again? And yet, not _exactly_ her,
+I think. Something different; something better, I believe, if that be
+possible. At any rate, methinks I would be wholly yours. I shall be
+impatient and uneasy till every act, every thought, every minute,
+someway does you good.
+
+"How!" said I, (her eye, still averted, seemed to hold back the tear
+with difficulty, and she made a motion as if to rise,) "have I grieved
+you? Have I been importunate? Forgive me if I have offended you."
+
+Her eyes now overflowed without restraint. She articulated, with
+difficulty, "Tears are too prompt with me of late; but they did not
+upbraid you. Pain has often caused them to flow, but now
+it--is--_pleasure_."
+
+"What a heart must yours be!" I resumed. "When susceptible of such
+pleasures, what pangs must formerly have rent it!--But you are not
+displeased, you say, with my importunate zeal. You will accept me as
+your own in every thing. Direct me; prescribe to me. There must be
+_something_ in which I can be of still more use to you; some way in
+which I can be wholly yours----"
+
+"_Wholly mine!_" she repeated, in a smothered voice, and rising. "Leave
+me, Arthur. It is too late for you to be here. It was wrong to stay so
+late."
+
+"I have been wrong; but how too late? I entered but this moment. It is
+twilight still; is it not?"
+
+"No: it is almost twelve. You have been here a long four hours; short
+ones I would rather say,--but indeed you must go."
+
+"What made me so thoughtless of the time? But I will go, yet not till
+you forgive me." I approached her with a confidence and for a purpose at
+which, upon reflection, I am not a little surprised; but the being
+called Mervyn is not the same in her company and in that of another.
+What is the difference, and whence comes it? Her words and looks engross
+me. My mind wants room for any other object. But why inquire whence the
+difference? The superiority of her merits and attractions to all those
+whom I knew would surely account for my fervour. Indifference, if I
+felt it, would be the only just occasion of wonder.
+
+The hour was, indeed, too late, and I hastened home. Stevens was waiting
+my return with some anxiety. I apologized for my delay, and recounted to
+him what had just passed. He listened with more than usual interest.
+When I had finished,--
+
+"Mervyn," said he, "you seem not be aware of your present situation.
+From what you now tell me, and from what you have formerly told me, one
+thing seems very plain to me."
+
+"Pr'ythee, what is it?"
+
+"Eliza Hadwin:--do you wish--could you bear--to see her the wife of
+another?"
+
+"Five years hence I will answer you. Then my answer may be, 'No; I wish
+her only to be mine.' Till then, I wish her only to be my pupil, my
+ward, my sister."
+
+"But these are remote considerations; they are bars to marriage, but not
+to love. Would it not molest and disquiet you to observe in her a
+passion for another?"
+
+"It would, but only on her own account; not on mine. At a suitable age
+it is very likely I may love her, because it is likely, if she holds on
+in her present career, she will then be worthy; but at present, though I
+would die to insure her happiness, I have no wish to insure it by
+marriage with her."
+
+"Is there no other whom you love?"
+
+"No. There is one worthier than all others; one whom I wish the woman
+who shall be my wife to resemble in all things."
+
+"And who is this model?"
+
+"You know I can only mean Achsa Fielding."
+
+"If you love her likeness, why not love herself?"
+
+I felt my heart leap.--"What a thought is that! Love her I _do_ as I
+love my God; as I love virtue. To love her in another sense would brand
+me for a lunatic."
+
+"To love her as a woman, then, appears to you an act of folly."
+
+"In me it would be worse than folly. 'Twould be frenzy."
+
+"And why?"
+
+"Why? Really, my friend, you astonish me. Nay, you startle me--for a
+question like that implies a doubt in you whether I have not actually
+harboured the thought."
+
+"No," said he, smiling, "presumptuous though you be, you have not,
+to-be-sure, reached so high a pitch. But still, though I think you
+innocent of so heinous an offence, there is no harm in asking why you
+might not love her, and even seek her for a wife."
+
+Achsa Fielding _my wife_! Good Heaven!--The very sound threw my soul
+into unconquerable tumults. "Take care, my friend," continued I, in
+beseeching accents, "you may do me more injury than you conceive, by
+even starting such a thought."
+
+"True," said he, "as long as such obstacles exist to your success; so
+many incurable objections: for instance, she is six years older than
+you."
+
+"That is an advantage. Her age is what it ought to be."
+
+"But she has been a wife and mother already."
+
+"That is likewise an advantage. She has wisdom, because she has
+experience. Her sensibilities are stronger, because they have been
+exercised and chastened. Her first marriage was unfortunate. The purer
+is the felicity she will taste in a second! If her second choice be
+propitious, the greater her tenderness and gratitude."
+
+"But she is a foreigner; independent of control, and rich."
+
+"All which are blessings to herself, and to him for whom her hand is
+reserved; especially if, like me, he is indigent."
+
+"But then she is unsightly as a _night-hag_, tawny as a Moor, the eye of
+a gipsy, low in stature, contemptibly diminutive, scarcely bulk enough
+to cast a shadow as she walks, less luxuriance than a charred log, fewer
+elasticities than a sheet pebble."
+
+"Hush! hush! blasphemer!"--(and I put my hand before his mouth)--"have I
+not told you that in mind, person, and condition, she is the type after
+which my enamoured fancy has modelled my wife?"
+
+"Oh ho! Then the objection does not lie with you. It lies with her, it
+seems. She can find nothing in you to esteem! And, pray, for what faults
+do you think she would reject you?"
+
+"I cannot tell. That she can ever balance for a moment, on such a
+question, is incredible. _Me! me!_ That Achsa Fielding should think of
+me!"
+
+"Incredible, indeed! You, who are loathsome in your person, an idiot in
+your understanding, a villain in your morals! deformed! withered! vain,
+stupid, and malignant. That such a one should choose _you_ for an idol!"
+
+"Pray, my friend," said I, anxiously, "jest not. What mean you by a hint
+of this kind?"
+
+"I will not jest, then, but will soberly inquire, what faults are they
+which make this lady's choice of you so incredible? You are younger than
+she, though no one, who merely observed your manners and heard you talk,
+would take you to be under thirty. You are poor: are these impediments?"
+
+"I should think not. I have heard her reason with admirable eloquence
+against the vain distinctions of property and nation and rank. They were
+once of moment in her eyes; but the sufferings, humiliations, and
+reflections of years have cured her of the folly. Her nation has
+suffered too much by the inhuman antipathies of religious and political
+faction; she, herself, has felt so often the contumelies of the rich,
+the high-born, and the bigoted, that----"
+
+"Pr'ythee, then, what dost imagine her objections to be?"
+
+"Why--I don't know. The thought was so aspiring; to call her _my wife_
+was a height of bliss the very far-off view of which made my head
+dizzy."
+
+"A height, however, to attain which you suppose only her consent, her
+love, to be necessary?"
+
+"Without doubt, her love is indispensable."
+
+"Sit down, Arthur, and let us no longer treat this matter lightly. I
+clearly see the importance of this moment to this lady's happiness and
+yours. It is plain that you love this woman. How could you help it? A
+brilliant skin is not hers; nor elegant proportions; nor majestic
+stature: yet no creature had ever more power to bewitch. Her manners
+have grace and dignity that flow from exquisite feelings, delicate
+taste, and the quickest and keenest penetration. She has the wisdom of
+men and of books. Her sympathies are enforced by reason, and her
+charities regulated by knowledge. She has a woman's age, fortune more
+than you wish, and a spotless fame. How could you fail to love her?
+
+"_You_, who are her chosen friend, who partake her pleasures and share
+her employments, on whom she almost exclusively bestows her society and
+confidence, and to whom she thus affords the strongest of all indirect
+proofs of impassioned esteem,--how could you, with all that firmness of
+love, joined with all that discernment of her excellence, how could you
+escape the enchantment?
+
+"You have not thought of marriage. You have not suspected your love.
+From the purity of your mind, from the idolatry with which this woman
+has inspired you, you have imagined no delight beyond that of enjoying
+her society as you now do, and have never fostered a hope beyond this
+privilege.
+
+"How quickly would this tranquillity vanish, and the true state of your
+heart be evinced, if a rival should enter the scene and be entertained
+with preference! then would the seal be removed, the spell be broken,
+and you would awaken to terror and to anguish.
+
+"Of this, however, there is no danger. Your passion is not felt by you
+alone. From her treatment of you, your diffidence disables you from
+seeing, but nothing can be clearer to me than that she loves you."
+
+I started on my feet. A flush of scorching heat flowed to every part of
+my frame. My temples began to throb like my heart. I was half delirious,
+and my delirium was strangely compounded of fear and hope, of delight
+and of terror.
+
+"What have you done, my friend? You have overturned my peace of mind.
+Till now the image of this woman has been followed by complacency and
+sober rapture; but your words have dashed the scene with dismay and
+confusion. You have raised up wishes, and dreams, and doubts, which
+possess me in spite of my reason, in spite of a thousand proofs.
+
+"Good God! You say she loves,--loves _me_!--me, a boy in age; bred in
+clownish ignorance; scarcely ushered into the world; more than
+childishly unlearned and raw; a barn-door simpleton; a plough-tail,
+kitchen-hearth, turnip-hoeing novice! She, thus splendidly endowed; thus
+allied to nobles; thus gifted with arts, and adorned with graces; that
+she should choose me, me for the partner of her fortune; her affections;
+and her life! It cannot be. Yet, if it were; if your guesses
+should--prove--Oaf! madman! To indulge so fatal a chimera! So rash a
+dream!
+
+"My friend! my friend! I feel that you have done me an irreparable
+injury. I can never more look her in the face. I can never more frequent
+her society. These new thoughts will beset and torment me. My disquiet
+will chain up my tongue. That overflowing gratitude; that innocent joy,
+unconscious of offence, and knowing no restraint, which have hitherto
+been my titles to her favour, will fly from my features and manners. I
+shall be anxious, vacant, and unhappy in her presence. I shall dread to
+look at her, or to open my lips, lest my mad and unhallowed ambition
+should betray itself."
+
+"Well," replied Stevens, "this scene is quite new. I could almost find
+it in my heart to pity you. I did not expect this; and yet, from my
+knowledge of your character, I ought, perhaps, to have foreseen it. This
+is a necessary part of the drama. A joyous certainty, on these
+occasions, must always be preceded by suspenses and doubts, and the
+close will be joyous in proportion as the preludes are excruciating. Go
+to bed, my good friend, and think of this. Time and a few more
+interviews with Mrs. Fielding will, I doubt not, set all to rights."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVIII.
+
+
+I went to my chamber, but what different sensations did I carry into it
+from those with which I had left it a few hours before! I stretched
+myself on the mattress and put out the light; but the swarm of new
+images that rushed on my mind set me again instantly in motion. All was
+rapid, vague, and undefined, wearying and distracting my attention. I
+was roused as by a divine voice, that said, "Sleep no more! Mervyn shall
+sleep no more."
+
+What chiefly occupied me was a nameless sort of terror. What shall I
+compare it to? Methinks, that one falling from a tree overhanging a
+torrent, plunged into the whirling eddy, and gasping and struggling
+while he sinks to rise no more, would feel just as I did then. Nay, some
+such image actually possessed me. Such was one of my reveries, in which
+suddenly I stretched my hand, and caught the arm of a chair. This act
+called me back to reason, or rather gave my soul opportunity to roam
+into a new track equally wild.
+
+Was it the abruptness of this vision that thus confounded me? was it a
+latent error in my moral constitution, which this new conjuncture drew
+forth into influence? These were all the tokens of a mind lost to
+itself; bewildered; unhinged; plunged into a drear insanity.
+
+Nothing less could have prompted so fantastically; for, midnight as it
+was, my chamber's solitude was not to be supported. After a few turns
+across the floor, I left the room, and the house. I walked without
+design and in a hurried pace. I posted straight to the house of Mrs.
+Fielding. I lifted the latch, but the door did not open. It was, no
+doubt, locked.
+
+"How comes this?" said I, and looked around me. The hour and occasion
+were unthought of. Habituated to this path, I had taken it
+spontaneously. "How comes this?" repeated I. "Locked upon _me_! but I
+will summon them, I warrant me,"--and rung the bell, not timidly or
+slightly, but with violence. Some one hastened from above. I saw the
+glimmer of a candle through the keyhole.
+
+"Strange," thought I; "a candle at noonday!"--The door was opened, and
+my poor Bess, robed in a careless and hasty manner, appeared. She
+started at sight of me, but merely because she did not, in a moment,
+recognise me.--"Ah! Arthur, is it you? Come in. My mamma has wanted you
+these two hours. I was just going to despatch Philip to tell you to
+come."
+
+"Lead me to her," said I.
+
+She led the way into the parlour.--"Wait a moment here; I will tell her
+you are come;"--and she tripped away.
+
+Presently a step was heard. The door opened again, and then entered a
+man. He was tall, elegant, sedate to a degree of sadness; something in
+his dress and aspect that bespoke the foreigner, the Frenchman.
+
+"What," said he, mildly, "is your business with my wife? She cannot see
+you instantly, and has sent me to receive your commands."
+
+"Your _wife_! I want Mrs. Fielding."
+
+"True; and Mrs. Fielding is my wife. Thank Heaven, I have come in time
+to discover her, and claim her as such."
+
+I started back. I shuddered. My joints slackened, and I stretched my
+hand to catch something by which I might be saved from sinking on the
+floor. Meanwhile, Fielding changed his countenance into rage and fury.
+He called me villain! bade me avaunt! and drew a shining steel from his
+bosom, with which he stabbed me to the heart. I sunk upon the floor, and
+all, for a time, was darkness and oblivion! At length, I returned as it
+were to life. I opened my eyes. The mists disappeared, and I found
+myself stretched upon the bed in my own chamber. I remembered the fatal
+blow I had received. I put my hand upon my breast; the spot where the
+dagger entered. There were no traces of a wound. All was perfect and
+entire. Some miracle had made me whole.
+
+I raised myself up. I re-examined my body. All around me was hushed,
+till a voice from the pavement below proclaimed that it was "past three
+o'clock."
+
+"What!" said I; "has all this miserable pageantry, this midnight
+wandering, and this ominous interview, been no more than--_a dream_?"
+
+It may be proper to mention, in explanation of this scene, and to show
+the thorough perturbation of my mind during this night, intelligence
+gained some days after from Eliza. She said, that about two o'clock, on
+this night, she was roused by a violent ringing of the bell. She was
+startled by so unseasonable a summons. She slept in a chamber adjoining
+Mrs. Fielding's, and hesitated whether she should alarm her friend; but,
+the summons not being repeated, she had determined to forbear.
+
+Added to this, was the report of Mrs. Stevens, who, on the same night,
+about half an hour after I and her husband had retired, imagined that
+she heard the street door opened and shut; but, this being followed by
+no other consequence, she supposed herself mistaken. I have little doubt
+that, in my feverish and troubled sleep, I actually went forth, posted
+to the house of Mrs. Fielding, rung for admission, and shortly after
+returned to my own apartment.
+
+This confusion of mind was somewhat allayed by the return of light. It
+gave way to more uniform but not less rueful and despondent perceptions.
+The image of Achsa filled my fancy, but it was the harbinger of nothing
+but humiliation and sorrow. To outroot the conviction of my own
+unworthiness, to persuade myself that I was regarded with the tenderness
+that Stevens had ascribed to her, that the discovery of my thoughts
+would not excite her anger and grief, I felt to be impossible.
+
+In this state of mind, I could not see her. To declare my feelings would
+produce indignation and anguish; to hide them from her scrutiny was not
+in my power; yet, what would she think of my estranging myself from her
+society? What expedient could I honestly adopt to justify my absence,
+and what employments could I substitute for those precious hours
+hitherto devoted to her?
+
+"_This_ afternoon," thought I, "she has been invited to spend at
+Stedman's country-house on Schuylkill. She consented to go, and I was to
+accompany her. I am fit only for solitude. My behaviour, in her
+presence, will be enigmatical, capricious, and morose. I must not go:
+yet what will she think of my failure? Not to go will be injurious and
+suspicious."
+
+I was undetermined. The appointed hour arrived. I stood at my
+chamber-window, torn by a variety of purposes, and swayed alternately by
+repugnant arguments. I several times went to the door of my apartment,
+and put my foot upon the first step of the staircase, but as often
+paused, reconsidered, and returned to my room.
+
+In these fluctuations the hour passed. No messenger arrived from Mrs.
+Fielding, inquiring into the cause of my delay. Was she offended at my
+negligence? Was she sick and disabled from going, or had she changed her
+mind? I now remembered her parting words at our last interview. Were
+they not susceptible of two constructions? She said my visit was too
+long, and bade me begone. Did she suspect my presumption, and is she
+determined thus to punish me?
+
+This terror added anew to all my former anxieties. It was impossible to
+rest in this suspense. I would go to her; I would lay before her all the
+anguish of my heart; I would not spare myself. She shall not reproach me
+more severely than I will reproach myself. I will hear my sentence from
+her own lips, and promise unlimited submission to the doom of separation
+and exile which she will pronounce.
+
+I went forth to her house. The drawing-room and summer-house were empty.
+I summoned Philip the footman: his mistress was gone to Mr. Stedman's.
+
+"How?--To Stedman's?--In whose company?"
+
+"Miss Stedman and her brother called for her in the carriage, and
+persuaded her to go with them."
+
+Now my heart sunk, indeed! Miss Stedman's _brother_! A youth, forward,
+gallant, and gay! Flushed with prosperity, and just returned from
+Europe, with all the confidence of age, and all the ornaments of
+education! She has gone with him, though pre-engaged to me! Poor Arthur,
+how art thou despised!
+
+This information only heightened my impatience. I went away, but
+returned in the evening. I waited till eleven, but she came not back. I
+cannot justly paint the interval that passed till next morning. It was
+void of sleep. On leaving her house, I wandered into the fields. Every
+moment increased my impatience. "She will probably spend the morrow at
+Stedman's," said I, "and possibly the next day. Why should I wait for
+her return? Why not seek her there, and rid myself at once of this
+agonizing suspense? Why not go thither now? This night, wherever I spend
+it, will be unacquainted with repose. I will go; it is already near
+twelve, and the distance is more than eight miles. I will hover near the
+house till morning, and then, as early as possible, demand an
+interview."
+
+I was well acquainted with Stedman's villa, having formerly been there
+with Mrs. Fielding. I quickly entered its precincts. I went close to the
+house; looked mournfully at every window. At one of them a light was to
+be seen, and I took various stations to discover, if possible, the
+persons within. Methought once I caught a glimpse of a female, whom my
+fancy easily imagined to be Achsa. I sat down upon the lawn, some
+hundred feet from the house, and opposite the window whence the light
+proceeded. I watched it, till at length some one came to the window,
+lifted it, and, leaning on her arms, continued to look out.
+
+The preceding day had been a very sultry one: the night, as usual after
+such a day and the fall of a violent shower, was delightfully serene and
+pleasant. Where I stood was enlightened by the moon. Whether she saw me
+or not, I could hardly tell, or whether she distinguished any thing but
+a human figure.
+
+Without reflecting on what was due to decorum and punctilio, I
+immediately drew near the house. I quickly perceived that her attention
+was fixed. Neither of us spoke, till I had placed myself directly under
+her; I then opened my lips, without knowing in what manner to address
+her. She spoke first, and in a startled and anxious voice:--
+
+"Who is that?"
+
+"Arthur Mervyn; he that was two days ago your friend."
+
+"Mervyn! What is it that brings you here at this hour? What is the
+matter? What has happened? Is anybody sick?"
+
+"All is safe; all are in good health."
+
+"What then do you come hither for at such an hour?"
+
+"I meant not to disturb you; I meant not to be seen."
+
+"Good heavens! How you frighten me! What can be the reason of so
+strange----"
+
+"Be not alarmed. I meant to hover near the house till morning, that I
+might see you as early as possible."
+
+"For what purpose?"
+
+"I will tell you when we meet, and let that be at five o'clock; the sun
+will then be risen; in the cedar-grove under the bank; till when,
+farewell."
+
+Having said this, I prevented all expostulation, by turning the angle of
+the house, and hastening towards the shore of the river. I roved about
+the grove that I have mentioned. In one part of it is a rustic seat and
+table, shrouded by trees and shrubs, and an intervening eminence, from
+the view of those in the house. This I designed to be the closing scene
+of my destiny.
+
+Presently I left this spot, and wandered upward through embarrassed and
+obscure paths, starting forward or checking my pace, according as my
+wayward meditations governed me. Shall I describe my thoughts?
+Impossible! It was certainly a temporary loss of reason; nothing less
+than madness could lead into such devious tracks, drag me down to so
+hopeless, helpless, panicful a depth, and drag me down so suddenly; lay
+waste, as at a signal, all my flourishing structures, and reduce them in
+a moment to a scene of confusion and horror.
+
+What did I fear? What did I hope? What did I design? I cannot tell; my
+glooms were to retire with the night. The point to which every
+tumultuous feeling was linked was the coming interview with Achsa. That
+was the boundary of fluctuation and suspense. Here was the sealing and
+ratification of my doom.
+
+I rent a passage through the thicket, and struggled upward till I
+reached the edge of a considerable precipice; I laid me down at my
+length upon the rock, whose cold and hard surface I pressed with my
+bared and throbbing breast. I leaned over the edge; fixed my eyes upon
+the water and wept--plentifully; but why?
+
+May _this_ be my heart's last beat, if I can tell why?
+
+I had wandered so far from Stedman's, that, when roused by the light, I
+had some miles to walk before I could reach the place of meeting. Achsa
+was already there. I slid down the rock above, and appeared before her.
+Well might she be startled at my wild and abrupt appearance.
+
+I placed myself, without uttering a word, upon a seat opposite to her,
+the table between, and, crossing my arms upon the table, leaned my head
+upon them, while my face was turned towards and my eyes fixed upon hers.
+I seemed to have lost the power and the inclination to speak.
+
+She regarded me, at first, with anxious curiosity; after examining my
+looks, every emotion was swallowed up in terrified sorrow. "For God's
+sake!--what does all this mean? Why am I called to this place? What
+tidings, what fearful tidings, do you bring?"
+
+I did not change my posture or speak. "What," she resumed, "could
+inspire all this woe? Keep me not in this suspense, Arthur; these looks
+and this silence shock and afflict me too much."
+
+"Afflict you?" said I, at last; "I come to tell you what, now that I am
+here, I cannot tell----" There I stopped.
+
+"Say what, I entreat you. You seem to be very unhappy--such a
+change--from yesterday!"
+
+"Yes! From yesterday; all then was a joyous calm, and now all is--but
+then I knew not my infamy, my guilt----"
+
+"What words are these, and from you, Arthur? Guilt is to you impossible.
+If purity is to be found on earth, it is lodged in your heart. What have
+you done?"
+
+"I have dared--how little you expect the extent of my daring! That such
+as I should look upwards with this ambition."
+
+I stood up, and taking her hands in mine, as she sat, looked earnestly
+in her face:--"I come only to beseech your pardon. To tell you my crime,
+and then disappear forever; but first let me see if there be any omen of
+forgiveness. Your looks--they are kind; heavenly; compassionate still. I
+will trust them, I believe; and yet" (letting go her hands, and turning
+away) "this offence is beyond the reach even of _your_ mercy."
+
+"How beyond measure these words and this deportment distress me! Let me
+know the worst; I cannot bear to be thus perplexed."
+
+"Why," said I, turning quickly round and again taking her hands, "that
+Mervyn, whom you have honoured and confided in, and blessed with your
+sweet regards, has been----"
+
+"What has he been? Divinely amiable, heroic in his virtue, I am sure.
+What else has he been?"
+
+"This Mervyn has imagined, has dared--will you forgive him?"
+
+"Forgive you what? Why don't you speak? Keep not my soul in this
+suspense."
+
+"He has dared--But do not think that I am he. Continue to look as now,
+and reserve your killing glances, the vengeance of those eyes, as for
+one that is absent.----Why, what--you weep, then, at last. That is a
+propitious sign. When pity drops from the eyes of our judge, then should
+the suppliant approach. Now, in confidence of pardon, I will tell you;
+this Mervyn, not content with all you have hitherto granted him, has
+dared--to _love_ you; nay, to think of you as of _his wife_!"
+
+Her eye sunk beneath mine, and, disengaging her hands, she covered her
+face with them.
+
+"I see my fate," said I, in a tone of despair. "Too well did I predict
+the effect of this confession; but I will go--_and unforgiven_."
+
+She now partly uncovered her face. The hand was withdrawn from her
+cheek, and stretched towards me. She looked at me.
+
+"Arthur! I _do_ forgive thee."--With what accents was this uttered! With
+what looks! The cheek that was before pale with terror was now crimsoned
+over by a different emotion, and delight swam in her eye.
+
+Could I mistake? My doubts, my new-born fears, made me tremble while I
+took the offered hand.
+
+"Surely," faltered I, "I am not--I cannot be--so blessed."
+
+There was no need of words. The hand that I held was sufficiently
+eloquent. She was still silent.
+
+"Surely," said I, "my senses deceive me. A bliss like this cannot be
+reserved for me. Tell me once more--set my doubting heart at rest."
+
+She now gave herself to my arms:--"I have not words--Let your own heart
+tell you, you have made your Achsa----"
+
+At this moment, a voice from without (it was Miss Stedman's) called,
+"Mrs. Fielding! where are you?"
+
+My friend started up, and, in a hasty voice, bade me begone. "You must
+not be seen by this giddy girl. Come hither this evening, as if by my
+appointment, and I will return with you."--She left me in a kind of
+trance. I was immovable. My reverie was too delicious;--but let me not
+attempt the picture. If I can convey no image of my state previous to
+this interview, my subsequent feelings are still more beyond the reach
+of my powers to describe.
+
+Agreeably to the commands of my mistress, I hastened away, evading paths
+which might expose me to observation. I speedily made my friends partake
+of my joy, and passed the day in a state of solemn but confused rapture.
+I did not accurately portray the various parts of my felicity. The whole
+rushed upon my soul at once. My conceptions were too rapid and too
+comprehensive to be distinct.
+
+I went to Stedman's in the evening. I found in the accents and looks of
+my Achsa new assurances that all which had lately passed was more than a
+dream. She made excuses for leaving the Stedmans sooner than ordinary,
+and was accompanied to the city by her friend. We dropped Mrs. Fielding
+at her own house, and thither, after accompanying Miss Stedman to her
+own home, I returned upon the wings of tremulous impatience.
+
+Now could I repeat every word of every conversation that has since taken
+place between us; but why should I do that on paper? Indeed, it could
+not be done. All is of equal value, and all could not be comprised but
+in many volumes. There needs nothing more deeply to imprint it on my
+memory; and, while thus reviewing the past, I should be iniquitously
+neglecting the present. What is given to the pen would be taken from
+her; and that, indeed, would be--but no need of saying what it would be,
+since it is impossible.
+
+I merely write to allay these tumults which our necessary separation
+produces; to aid me in calling up a little patience till the time
+arrives when our persons, like our minds, shall be united forever. That
+time--may nothing happen to prevent--but nothing can happen. But why
+this ominous misgiving just now? My love has infected me with these
+unworthy terrors, for she has them too.
+
+This morning I was relating my dream to her. She started, and grew pale.
+A sad silence ensued the cheerfulness that had reigned before:--"Why
+thus dejected, my friend?"
+
+"I hate your dream. It is a horrid thought. Would to God it had never
+occurred to you!"
+
+"Why, surely, you place no confidence in dreams?"
+
+"I know not where to place confidence; not in my present promises of
+joy,"--and she wept. I endeavoured to soothe or console her. Why, I
+asked, did she weep?
+
+"My heart is sore. Former disappointments were so heavy; the hopes which
+were blasted were so like my present ones, that the dread of a like
+result will intrude upon my thoughts. And now your dream! Indeed, I know
+not what to do. I believe I ought still to retract--ought, at least, to
+postpone an act so irrevocable."
+
+Now was I obliged again to go over my catalogue of arguments to induce
+her to confirm her propitious resolution to be mine within the week. I,
+at last, succeeded, even in restoring her serenity, and beguiling her
+fears by dwelling on our future happiness.
+
+Our household, while we stayed in America,--in a year or two we hie to
+Europe,--should be _thus_ composed. Fidelity, and skill, and pure
+morals, should be sought out, and enticed, by generous recompenses, into
+our domestic service. Duties which should be light and regular.--Such
+and such should be our amusements and employments abroad and at home:
+and would not this be true happiness?
+
+"Oh yes--if it may be so."
+
+"It shall be so; but this is but the humble outline of the scene;
+something is still to be added to complete our felicity."
+
+"What more can be added?"
+
+"What more? Can Achsa ask what more? She who has not been _only_ a
+wife----"
+
+But why am I indulging this pen-prattle? The hour she fixed for my
+return to her is come, and now take thyself away, quill. Lie there, snug
+in thy leathern case, till I call for thee, and that will not be very
+soon. I believe I will abjure thy company till all is settled with my
+love. Yes; I _will_ abjure thee; so let _this_ be thy last office, till
+Mervyn has been made the happiest of men.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arthur Mervyn, by Charles Brockden Brown
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