ARTHUR

ARTHUR
90


No. gabe. I am not so foreign to mankind as to agree to this scheme. As my sister or my wife, the world will let us live under one roof; apply to the common use of the same property; and every day to enjoy the company of one another; and; but she is not my sister, and marriage would be the most unwise act. I explained to him, briefly, the objection that was the responsibility of his project.


"Well, then," he said, "let me live next door, in the neighborhood, or, at least, in the same town. Let me be where I can see you once a day, or once a week, or once a month. Keep me not entirely from your society, and the means to be, in due time, less stupid and foolish than I am now."


After a pause, I replied, "I love you so much for not fulfilling this request. Perhaps this city will be a suitable residence for you, as it will, for some time, be most convenient for me. I'll be better able to take care of your well-being, and provide you with means of improvement, when you are in a small distance.Right now, you must agree to stay here, while I visit your Uncle, while I'm visiting your Uncle, and then go to town. I'll find you a suitable inn, and let you know when it's found. If you proceed with the same thought, I'll come, and, after obtaining the approval of Mr. Curling, will escort you to the city." Here ends our dialogue.


Although I have approved this scheme, I am aware that some dangers come with it. I fear slander, which may disturb the peace or damage my friend's reputation. I fear for my own weakness, which may be tempted into an unwise marriage by the charm or suffering of this enchanting creature. I feel there is no price too expensive to save him from slander. Just fame is of the utmost importance to a young woman, and her loss but is less supplied by the testimony of her own conscience. I have reason to tenfold attention on this account, because I am his only patron and friend. Therefore, I appreciate some hope that time can change his view, and suggest a less dangerous scheme. In the meantime, I wasted no time visiting Malverton and Philip Hadwin .


About ten days have passed since we left Malverton . These were stormy days in a row, and the journey became uncomfortable. The weather was now calm and sunny, and early in the morning after the dialogue I had just told, I set out on horseback.


Honestly Caleb was found eating his breakfast almost at the place where he was first discovered. He answered my question by saying, that, two days after our departure, some men came to the house, one of them was Philip Hadwin . They had interrogated him about the conditions of the farm, and the purpose he was living there. The William Hadwin they knew had long since died; but where were the girls, his daughters?


Caleb replies that Susy, the eldest, also died.


This news caused astonishment. When did he die, and how, and where was he buried?


Not telling me where? Who was he buried by?


Really, he can't say it. Some strange man came there just as he was dying. He went to the room, and, when he died, took him away, but what he did with the body was more than he could say, but he had the idea that he buried it. The man stayed until morning, and then left with Lizzy, leaving her to keep the house alone. He had never seen any of them, or, indeed, a single soul since.


This is all the information Caleb is capable of providing to the visitors. It was so weak and overwhelming that they started charging the man with lies, and threatening him with unlawful acts. At that time Mr. Ellis entered the house, and, after getting acquainted with the topic of conversation, told her everything she herself knew. She recounted the midnight visit I had paid for her, explaining my previous situation in the family, and my disappearance in September. He expressed the advice he gave me to take Eliza to his uncle, and my promise to obey his advice. His uncle stated that he saw nothing about his nephew, and Caleb added, that, when he departed, he took the road that led to the city.


These clues provide reasons for many conjectures and suspicions. Ellis now mentioned some of the intelligence she gathered in my honor on the late trip. It seems I am the son of an honest farmer in the area, who married a neat girl from a milkmaid who lived with him. My father had detected me in making some terrible progress for my mother-in-law, and had kept me out of the door. I did not go, however, without ransacking his drawers with the hundreds of dollars he had put on a rainy day. I was famous for such jokes, and hated by all the neighbors for my arrogance and laziness. It was easy, by comparison of circumstances, for Ellis to confirm that Hadwin's servant, Mervyn, was the same person who was subjected to such grave accusations.


Before this journey, he had heard of me from Hadwin, who loudly praised my perseverance, serenity, and humility. For his part, he was always careful in paying attention to the vagabond who came from no one knowing where, and working with a plausible tongue. She was not surprised to hear him whisper that Betsy Hadwin had fallen in love with the young man, and now, no doubt, she had persuaded him to run away with her. A good agricultural heir is a gift that cannot be fulfilled every day.


Philip became angry at this news; swearing that if it turned out to be so, his nephew would starve in the city, and that he would be careful to vehemently reject the boy. His well-known brother had left a will, in which he became the executor, and this will soon be issued. After much talking and ransacking the house, and cursing his truant nephew, he and his entourage leave, asking Caleb to guard the house and its contents for his use. Only this is stored in Caleb's memory of the day's events.


Curling recently commented on Philip Hadwin's character . This man was not at all like his brother, was a famous fighter and bully, a tyrant to his children, a plague to his neighbors, and held meetings for drunkards and idlers, at the Bull's Head sign, in ——. He had no shortage of parts, and was no less feared for cunning than ferocity. He was greedy, and never missed an opportunity to surpass his neighbor. There was no doubt that his nephew's property would be embezzled if it got to his hands, and any power he might gain over his person would be used to destroy him. His children were tainted by the depravity of their father, and marriage did not improve the reputation of his daughters, nor cure them of depravity: this is the man I now propose to visit.