ions of my
fortune was possible only by shaking off life itself.

"One evening, as I traversed the bank of the creek, these dismal
meditations were uncommonly intense. They at length terminated in a
resolution to throw myself into the stream. The first impulse was to
rush instantly to my death; but the remembrance of papers, lying at my
lodgings, which might unfold more than I desired to the curiosity of
survivors, induced me to postpone this catastrophe till the next
morning.

"My purpose being formed, I found my heart lightened of its usual
weight. By you it will be thought strange, but it is nevertheless true,
that I derived from this new prospect not only tranquillity but
cheerfulness. I hastened home. As soon as I entered, my landlord
informed me that a person had been searching for me in my absence. This
was an unexampled incident, and foreboded me no good. I was strongly
persuaded that my visitant had been led hither not by friendly but
hostile purposes. This persuasion was confirmed by the description of
the stranger's guise and demeanour given by my landlord. My fears
instantly recognised the image of Watson, the man by whom I had been so
eminently benefited, and whose kindness I had compensated by the ruin of
his sister and the confusion of his family.

"An interview with this man was less to be endured than to look upon the
face of an avenging deity. I was determined to avoid this interview,
and, for this end, to execute my fatal purpose within the hour. My
papers were collected with a tremulous hand, and consigned to the
flames. I then bade my landlord inform all visitants that I should not
return till the next day, and once more hastened towards the river.

"My way led past the inn where one of the stages from Baltimore was
accustomed to stop. I was not unaware that Watson had possibly been
brought in the coach which had recently arrived, and which now stood
before the door of the inn. The danger of my being descried or
encountered by him as I passed did not fail to occur. This was to be
eluded by deviating from the main street.

"Scarcely had I turned a corner for this purpose when I was accosted by
a young man whom I knew to be an inhabitant of the town, but with whom I
had hitherto had no intercourse but what consisted in a transient
salutation. He apologized for the liberty of addressing me, and, at the
same time, inquired if I understood the French language.

"Being answered in the affirmative,