CHAPTER XXXVIII.

  What other inquiries were to be resolved by our young friend, we werenow, at this late hour, obliged to postpone till the morrow. I shallpass over the reflections which a story like this would naturallysuggest, and hasten to our next interview.

  After breakfast next morning, the subject of last night's conversationwas renewed. I told him that something had occurred in his absence, inrelation to Mrs. Wentworth and her nephew, that had perplexed us not alittle. "My information is obtained," continued I, "from Wortley; and itis 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 hiscountenance at these tidings. He looked at me as if desirous that Ishould proceed.

  "It seems," added I, "that a letter was lately received by this ladyfrom the father of Clavering, who is now in Europe. This letter reportsthat this son was lately met with in Charleston, and relates the meanswhich old Mr. Clavering had used to prevail upon his son to return home;means, of the success of which he entertained well-grounded hopes. Whatthink you?"

  "I can only reject it," said he, after some pause, "as untrue. Thefather's correspondent may have been deceived. The father may have beendeceived, 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; butan error it surely is. Clavering is not alive. I know the chamber wherehe died, and the withered pine under which he lies buried."

  "If she be deceived," said I, "it will be impossible to rectify hererror."

  "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 toocircumstantial and consistent to permit her to disbelieve."

  "She will not hearken to you. She is too strongly prepossessed againstyou to admit you even to a hearing."

  "She cannot help it. Unless she lock her door against me, or stuff herears with wool, she must hear me. Her prepossessions are reasonable, butare easily removed by telling the truth. Why does she suspect me ofartifice? Because I seemed to be allied to Welbeck, and because Idisguised the truth. That she thinks ill of me is not her fault, but mymisfortune; 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; thismorning; as soon as I have seen Welbeck, whom I shall immediately visitin 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 awarrant is already in the hands of officers for arresting you whereveryou are found."

  "In what way," said Mervyn, sedately, "do they imagine me a partaker ofhis crime?"

  "I know not. You lived with him. You fled with him. You aided andconnived 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 topunishment."

  "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 ofsight,--evils infinitely more formidable. I shall, therefore, not avoidthem. The sooner my conduct is subjected to scrutiny, the better. Willyou go with me to Welbeck?"

  "I will go with you."

  Inquiring for Welbeck of the keeper of the prison, we were informed thathe was in his own apartment, very sick. The physician attending theprison had been called, but the prisoner had preserved an obstinate andscornful silence; and had neither explained his condition, nor consentedto accept any aid.

  We now went alone into his apartment. His sensibility seemed fastebbing, yet an emotion of joy was visible in his eyes at the appearanceof Mervyn. He seemed likewise to recognise in me his late visitant, andmade 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 hisreply:--"I shall soon be well. I have longed to see you. I want to leavewith you a few words." He now cast his languid eyes on me. "You are hisfriend," he continued. "You know all. You may stay."

  There now succeeded a long pause, during which he closed his eyes, andresigned himself as if to an oblivion of all thought. His pulse under myhand was scarcely perceptible. From this in some minutes he recovered,and, fixing his eyes on Mervyn, resumed, in a broken and feebleaccent:--

  "Clemenza! You have seen her. Weeks ago, I left her in an accursedhouse; yet she has not been mistreated. Neglected and abandoned indeed,but not mistreated. Save her, Mervyn. Comfort her. Awaken charity forher sake.

  "I cannot tell you what has happened. The tale would be too long,--toomournful. Yet, in justice to the living, I must tell you something. Mywoes 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 anewspaper fallen into my hands while on the eve of embarkation. By thatI learned that a treasure was buried with the remains of the ill-fatedWatson. I was destitute. I was unjust enough to wish to make thistreasure my own. Prone to think I was forgotten, or numbered with thevictims of pestilence, I ventured to return under a careless disguise. Ipenetrated to the vaults of that deserted dwelling by night. I dug upthe 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 destinyovertook me at last. I was recognised by emissaries of Jamieson,arrested and brought hither, and here shall I consummate my fate anddefeat the rage of my creditors by death. But first----"

  Here Welbeck stretched out his left hand to Mervyn, and, after somereluctance, showed a roll of lead.

  "Receive this," said he. "In the use of it, be guided by your honestyand by the same advertisement that furnished me the clue by which torecover 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 somelonger time in his chamber; but our kind intent availed nothing. Hequickly relapsed into insensibility, from which he recovered not again,but next day expired. Such, in the flower of his age, was the fate ofThomas Welbeck.

  Whatever interest I might feel in accompanying the progress of my youngfriend, a sudden and unforeseen emergency compelled me again to leavethe city. A kinsman, to whom I was bound by many obligations, wassuffering a lingering disease, and, imagining, with some reason, hisdissolution to be not far distant, he besought my company and myassistance, to soothe, at least, the agonies of his last hour. I wasanxious to clear up the mysteries which Arthur's conduct had produced,and to shield him, if possible, from the evils which I feared awaitedhim. It was impossible, however, to decline the invitation of mykinsman, as his residence was not a day's journey from the city. I wasobliged to content myself with occasional information, imparted byMervyn's letters or those of my wife.

  Meanwhile, on leaving the prison, I hasted to inform Mervyn of the truenature of the scene which had just passed. By this extraordinaryoccurrence, the property of the Maurices was now in honest hands.Welbeck, stimulated by selfish motives, had done that which any otherperson would have found encompassed with formidable dangers anddifficulties. How this attempt was suggested or executed, he had notinformed us, nor was it desirable to know. It was sufficient that themeans of restoring their own to a destitute and meritorious family werenow in our possession.

  Having returned home, I unfolded to Mervyn all the particularsrespecting Williams and the Maurices which I had lately learned fromWortley. He listened with deep attention, and, my story being finished,he said, "In this small
compass, then, is the patrimony and subsistenceof a numerous family. To restore it to them is the obviousproceeding--but how? Where do they abide?"

  "Williams and Watson's wife live in Baltimore, and the Maurices livenear that town. The advertisements alluded to by Wortley, and which areto be found in any newspaper, will inform us; but, first, are we surethat any or all of these bills are contained in this covering?"

  The lead was now unrolled, and the bills which Williams had describedwere found enclosed. Nothing appeared to be deficient. Of this, however,we were scarcely qualified to judge. Those that were the property ofWilliams might not be entire, and what would be the consequence ofpresenting them to him, if any had been embezzled by Welbeck?

  This difficulty was obviated by Mervyn, who observed that theadvertisement describing these bills would afford us ample informationon 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 mypower, to their inquietudes."

  "What! Would you go to Baltimore?"

  "Certainly. Can any other expedient be proper? How shall I otherwiseinsure 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 besuspected likely to involve you in embarrassments."

  "What embarrassments? If they receive their own, ought they not to besatisfied?"

  "The inquiry will naturally be made as to the manner of gainingpossession of these papers. They were lately in the hands of Watson, butWatson has disappeared. Suspicions are awake respecting the cause of hisdisappearance. These suspicions are connected with Welbeck, andWelbeck's connection with you is not unknown."

  "These are evils, but I see not how an ingenious and open conduct isadapted 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 acause, as he whose cause it is. I rely upon your skill and address, andshall leave you to pursue your own way. I must leave you for a time, butshall expect to be punctually informed of all that passes." With thisagreement we parted, and I hastened to perform my intended journey.