University of Virginia Library

6. 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 book-cases. “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 shewed 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 tranquility
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 beside 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 this 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 pass 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 intitles 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
Stewarts, 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 falacious, 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 behove 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 exhilarat on 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 expensive
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
taylor. Seated on a bench at the door was a young man,
with coarse uncombed locks, breeches knee-unbuttoned, stockings
ungartered, shoes slip-shod 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. Mathews.”

“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 batchelor.”

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 batchelor, 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 marchant: he keeps a store somewhere or other;
but I don't no 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 says 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 warn 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.