people did nothing for nothing;--so she had told George
Staunton all he could wish to know about his wean, in hopes he would not
see the demented young creature he had ruined perish for want. As for her
motives for not telling them sooner, she had a long account to reckon for
in the next world, and she would reckon for that too."

The clergyman said that Meg had died in the same desperate state of mind,
occasionally expressing some regret about the child which was lost, but
oftener sorrow that the mother had not been hanged--her mind at once a
chaos of guilt, rage, and apprehension for her daughter's future safety;
that instinctive feeling of parental anxiety which she had in common with
the she-wolf and lioness, being the last shade of kindly affection that
occupied a breast equally savage.

The melancholy catastrophe of Madge Wildfire was occasioned by her taking
the confusion of her mother's execution, as affording an opportunity of
leaving the workhouse to which the clergyman had sent her, and presenting
herself to the mob in their fury, to perish in the way we have already
seen. When Dr. Fleming found the convict's letter was returned from
Lincolnshire, he wrote to a friend in Edinburgh, to inquire into the fate
of the unfortunate girl whose child had been stolen, and was informed by
his correspondent, that she had been pardoned, and that, with all her
family, she had retired to some distant part of Scotland, or left the
kingdom entirely. And here the matter rested, until, at Sir George
Staunton's application, the clergyman looked out, and produced Margaret
Murdockson's returned letter, and the other memoranda which he had kept
concerning the affair.

Whatever might be Sir George Staunton's feelings in ripping up this
miserable history, and listening to the tragical fate of the unhappy girl
whom he had ruined, he had so much of his ancient wilfulness of
disposition left, as to shut his eyes on everything, save the prospect
which seemed to open itself of recovering his son. It was true, it would
be difficult to produce him, without telling much more of the history of
his birth, and the misfortunes of his parents, than it was prudent to
make known. But let him once be found, and, being found, let him but
prove worthy of his father's protection, and many ways might be fallen
upon to avoid such risk. Sir George Staunton was at liberty to adopt him
as his heir, if he pleased, without communicating the secret of his
bi