ARTHUR
71

Mervyn's curiosity was very aroused when I told my acquaintances about the fate of Clemenza . In response to her passionate interrogation, I told her what I knew. The story plunged him into a daydream. Recovering, at length, from his attention, he spoke:

"dangerous conditions. Welbeck's poverty will push him away from where he lives. His profligate protector will either persuade him or leave him for destruction. Can't he be saved?"

"I don't know," I replied, "in what way."

"How clear. Let him move to another place. Let him know the evils of those who surround him. Let him be asked to fly. Will only needs to be inspired, danger only needs to be shown, and he is safe, for he will be away from his reach."

"You are an adventurous young man. Who will you find to take over the office? Who will be persuaded to enter the house of a stranger, looking without introducing the presence of this girl, tell her that the house she inhabits is a brothel , persuading her to believe the story, and, and persuade him to accompany her? Who will open his house to the fugitive? Who will you convince that his illicit relationship with Welbeck, whose signs cannot be hidden, is unsuitable for his company of prostitutes, and makes him unworthy of protection? Who would adopt into their family a stranger whose behavior has caused disdain, and whose comrades now, no doubt, make him worthy of condemnation?"

"really. This is a difficulty I did not expect before. Should he perish? Shouldn't something be done to save her from the ugliness and guilt?"

"It's not your strength or mine to do anything ."

The delay of the hour ended our conversation and called us to rest. I took the first opportunity to convey to my wife the scheme that had taken place, relative to our guests; with which, as I expected, she readily agreed. In the morning, I mentioned it to Mervyn. I contemplate the inherent benefits of the medical profession, the power it exerts to alleviate the suffering of our neighbors, the dignity attached by public opinion, the path open to the acquisition of competence, freedom from slave care. that accompanies it, and the means of intellectual satisfaction it gives us.

As I spoke, his eyes sparkled with joy. "Yes," he said, impassioned, "I gladly accept your offer. I'm accepting this benefit, because I know that, if my self-esteem rejects it, I'll have to prove myself less worthy than you think, and instead give you pain. the pleasure I will surely give. I will soon enter my new assignment and study profession; but partly because of Mr. Hadwin and his daughters. I cannot dispel my doubts about them, but by going back to Malverton and making sure of their situation with my own eyes. You know under what circumstances I parted ways with Wallace and Mr. Hadwin . I'm not sure that any of them ever got home, or that they didn't carry the infection with them. Now I find myself strong enough to travel, and intend to introduce you, to this interview, to my intentions. An hour's delay is overkill, and I hope you'll agree to my arrangement soon. Rustic and air exercise, over the course of a week or two weeks, will greatly contribute to my health."

No objections can be made to this scheme. His narrative does not evoke the same affection on our chests for Hadwin's family . His visit can not only tell us about their true state, but it will also take away the anxiety they cannot avoid other than respecting our guests. It was a shocking topic that neither Wallace nor Hadwin returned to the city, with the intention of getting word from their friend. It is easier to assume they have been held back by an accident, than by insensitivity or laziness. Within minutes Mervyn said goodbye to us, and began his journey, promising to let us know his circumstances as soon as possible after his arrival. We parted from him reluctantly, and found no consolation except in the prospect of his swift return.

The disappearance of Watson would, at different times, raise many questions and suspicions; but, since this had occurred on the eve of the epidemic, his relatives and friends would agree, without hesitation, to the cause of the outbreak, with the belief that he had been involved in a general disaster, and was among the earliest victims. People of his profession usually live on the street where the infection began, and where the damage is most damaging; and this circumstance will corroborate the conclusions of his friends.

I did not feel the immediate benefit that flowed from imparting the knowledge I had recently acquired to others. Shortly after Mervyn's departure to Malverton, I was visited by Wortley. Asking my guest, I told him that, having recovered his health, he had left my home. He repeated his mockery of the villain Welbeck, his suspicions against Mervyn, and his desire to interview the young man again. Why did I let him go, and where did he go?

"He went briefly to the countryside. I'm hoping he'll be back in less than a week, when you'll meet him here as often as you want, because I wish he lived in this house."

Much astonishment and disapproval was expressed by my friend. I hinted that the boy had made a disclosure to me, which justified my belief in his integrity. The evidence of honesty is not a trait that can be opened indiscriminately. Mervyn has given me the authority to communicate so much of his story to Wortley, who will help him defend himself from accusations of being Welbeck's co-worker in deception; but this ending will only be countered by an imperfect story, and a full reading, though perhaps eliminating Mervyn, may result in the inconvenience that makes this profit greater than it is.

Wortley, as naturally expected, was not at all satisfied with this statement. He suspects Mervyn is a shrewd con artist; that he has been trained in the art of deception, under an accomplished teacher; and; that the story he told me was a web of ingenious and plausible lies; that mere statements, however reasonable and serious, of a man like him, were, whose behavior had aroused such a strong suspicion, did not deserve the slightest praise.

"Undeniably," continued my friend, "that he lived with Welbeck at the time of elopement; that they disappeared together; that they entered a boat, at Pine Street docks, at midnight; that this boat was found by the owner belonging to a fisherman in Redbank, who confirmed that he had found it stranded near his door, the day after they disappeared. From all this I can give you undeniable proof. If, after this evidence, you can give credit for the story, I'd think you're made of a very perverted and trustworthy material."

"The evidence you mentioned," I said, "will only increase his credibility. All the facts you have stated have been acknowledged by him. That's an important part of the narrative."

"What's the conclusion then? Is this not proof of the agreement between them? Did he not acknowledge this agreement in admitting that he knew Welbeck was my debtor; that he was told of his escape, but that (an unparalleled betrayal!) he had promised secrecy, and would not, at all, betray him? You said he intended to go back; but I doubt about that. You'll never see his face again. He was too wise to put himself again into the noose; but I really did. not really desperate to light Welbeck up. Old Thetford, Jamieson, and I, have sworn to hunt him down all over the world. I had a strong hope that he did not stray far away. Some intelligence has recently been received, which allows us to put us in pursuit of the smell. He may multiply and sneak; but, if he does not fall into our hard work in the end, he will have agility and cunning, as well as ferocity, like the devil."