University of Virginia Library

19. CHAPTER XIX.

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 pacquets I had
left into his hands.

I leave you to imagine, continued he, my surprize
and curiosity at this discovery. I was, of course, impatient
to see the bearer of such extraordinary tidings.
This morning, enquiring 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 enquiries 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 an 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 enquiries,
which were made with frankness and fervor, 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, bigotted, 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 illhumor
are her chief characteristics.

The youngest daughter has nothing in mind or person
in common with her family. Where they are irrascible,
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 favorable
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 beside 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 Hemming,
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 recompence 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 Hemming's, 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 twelve month 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 no wise 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.