University of Virginia Library

“The words which you are about to read come from
one who has been guilty of deception, treachery, forgery
and robbery, and therefore at first you may not give credit
to my statements. Before I have finished what I design
writing, however, you will give implicit credence to what
I say.

“I write this at Agincourt, the house of your enemy
and rival, Lindon, and I do so at the peril of my life. I
think I can bribe the servant who waits on me, however,
and whom her master has sold, and I shall run the risk.
The interview which I have just had with this man, and
his outrageous treatment, have made me resolve to hazard

every thing, and I do not conceal the fact that my motive
in addressing you is wholly to take my revenge on him.

“The hours are long here, sir, and I have much time on
my hands. I shall employ this leisure in revealing to you
the conspiracy which has made your life miserable, and yet
been of no benefit either to the one who conceived it or to
his tool—myself.

“Listen, sir. I was born in Italy, and my parents having
removed to England, I was there brought up and well educated.
Then they came to Virginia, and within a year after
our arrival both my parents died, and I was thrown upon
the world without any fixed principles or regular employment.
I became finally a seamstress at Pate's shop in
Williamsburg, and here this man, Lindon, who had before
made me unworthy proposals, came to seek me. He had
many conversations with me, and asked me if I had nerve
to undertake an enterprise requiring skill and secrecy; if it
was done in accordance with his views and effected its object,
he would pay me one thousand pounds.

“Follow me closely now, sir, in my narrative, and you
will see the steps by which your misery was effected. I had
always been avaricious and am now—I would sell my soul
for money, and I do not conceal the fact. When Lindon
offered me the thousand pounds, I said I would do any and
every thing which he demanded. At first he made no distinct
promise, and it was only one night at the Indian Camp,
where I accompanied him disguised as a man, that he directly
offered me the large sum.

“Now, would you like to know Mr. Lindon's project?
He was in love with, or at least wished to marry, Miss Vane,
and you were his rival. He thought that if you were removed,
or what amounted to the same thing, the girl's mind
poisoned against you, she would fall an easy prey to his assiduity
or his wiles. My part was to go to Vanely and thus
poison the young lady's heart against you. Of course you
will hate and wish to strike me, perhaps kill me, after what
follows, but that is nothing. You had much better strike

Lindon. Well, I at once set about my scheme. One day
the ladies came into the shop and I offered to work for them.
It is not often that seamstresses will go into the country,
and they readily accepted my offer. I remember seeing
you gazing from your window at the girl in a window of
Mr. Burwell's house on the night before I left town with
them in the chariot, and I half relented. But the sum of
money decided me.

“I went to Vanely and commenced my part almost immediately,
but your duel and what followed it came too
soon. I waited. At last you went to Williamsburg to see
to the repairs of your house, and then I had a fair field.
Lindon had supplied me with some of your writing, and I
forged letters from you to the girl—letters which gradually
grew lukewarm, then cool, then short and stiff. I intercepted
every one which you really wrote to her. Her letters
to yourself I suppressed, and this I easily effected, as I
carried the letter bag always to the servant and received
it from him.

“You came to see the young lady several times. On the
first occasion she treated you coolly; I watched through the
door. On the second, I had so poisoned her mind, that she
would scarcely look at you; and, on this second visit, I
secured what I had often coveted, your signet ring. I
entered your apartment two hours after midnight, and stole
the signet from the toilet table. Then mastered by curiosity
to see how a man slept when his heart was breaking, I
approached your bed. You awoke, sprung up, and I had
just time to escape. You probably supposed that it was a
dream; it was myself, sir.

“Well, having secured your signet, I had no longer any
fears. My proficiency in imitating hand-writing, which I
had learned at a common school in England, enabled me to
forge letters from you; and the stamp of your motto on the
seal placed these letters beyond all doubt. I shaped the
contents of these letters so as to indicate a gradual change
of feeling on your part. At first, lukewarm as I said, then

cool, then jesting and careless, then indifferent. I placed
one after another in the mail bag—and under the forgeries,
I saw the young lady tremble and shrink, and her peace of
mind pass away, yielding to anger and despair—until when
you came, she refused to see you. I could have killed myself
for my treachery, for she is as good as she is beautiful;
but the accursed money controlled and mastered me.

“At last the end came. You wrote a letter which I well
recollect, for it bore the marks of the delirium which soon
attacked you. It commenced with the words, `Is it wrong
for me to write to you?' and was written immediately after
that third and last visit, upon which occasion she refused to
see you, and you left abruptly.

“This letter very nearly reached her, for she seemed, by
a strange instinct, to suspect something, and now went forth
herself to meet the servant who brought the letters from the
office. On this evening I accompanied her, although she
tried to repulse me; and before she could take the bag, I
had it in my own hand. I slipped your letter up my sleeve,
and presented to her the one which I had forged and held
ready, the post-mark and every thing down to the rumpling
of the edges, being perfectly feigned. In that letter I made
you declare that you had been too hasty, and would think
more seriously before you undertook to marry; and I saw
her tremble and turn pale as she read it.

“It was my reply which you read. She wrote none—
pride succeeded agony, and she permitted her heart to break
in silence without speaking. I wrote the answer, in which
I declared, in the character of the young lady, that your
letter was `strange;' that the alterations in your manor
house concerned only yourself; and ended, by breaking off
the engagement. I next heard that you were sick—she
visited you in your sleep—and then you went away, and all
was over. I had accomplished my object—I had played my
part—and I had even done it so adroitly, that she felt an
honorable scruple against uttering a word to the family.
Her sister endeavored in vain to extort from her any thing

contained in my letters, and I doubt if to this moment she
has told any thing. Her pure and noble nature was true to
itself through all; and though her heart was broken, she
did not speak. I had thus conquered by fraud, treachery,
and robbery, a young girl's heart—conquered, by appealing
to that immense weakness of woman, pride—and I went to
my master, after your departure, and asked for my reward.

“What do you suppose, sir, was his reply? He denied
that he had ever made any such arrangement with me; and
when I threatened, in my wrath and disappointment, to expose
his part in the matter, he took advantage of his power
and made me a close prisoner here, in his house of Agincourt.
Here I have remained since the month of October
last, the prisoner of this man, who either watches over me
himself, or employs a brutal jailor, who has twice struck me,
as if I were a slave or a mad woman.

“Well, sir, I have now informed you of the means which
I used to destroy your happiness, and I have shown you
that my treachery resulted in no gain. I am about to make
some amends for my crime by informing you of a scheme
which intimately concerns your peace of mind. Lindon
came hither to my apartment yesterday, and, in a spirit of
bravado, laid before me, at length, a design which he will
surely accomplish.

“It is his intention to waylay Miss Vane, who is now
upon a visit to Mr. Burwell's, in this county, and who designs
soon to return. His intention, I say, is to waylay her
carriage, and bring her here to this place by force. Once
here, a hedge parson, named Tag, is to marry her to Lindon,
and the whole scheme will be complete.

“I write these lines, as I said, that, through your instrumentality,
I may have revenge upon this man. I hate him
with a deadly hatred, and, if I have my revenge, you may
do any thing you please with me. I care not.