thers that
his character, for a certain period, was respectable, but that, at
length, he contracted large debts, and, instead of paying them,
absconded. You, it seems, lived with him. On the night of his departure
you are known to have accompanied him across the river, and this, it
seems, is the first of your reappearance on the stage. Welbeck's conduct
was dishonest. He ought doubtless to be pursued to his asylum and be
compelled to refund his winnings. You confess yourself to know his place
of refuge, but urge a promise of secrecy. Know you not that to assist or
connive at the escape of this man was wrong? To have promised to favour
his concealment and impunity by silence was only an aggravation of this
wrong. That, however, is past. Your youth, and circumstances, hitherto
unexplained, may apologize for that misconduct; but it is certainly your
duty to repair it to the utmost of your power. Think whether, by
disclosing what you know, you will not repair it."

"I have spent most of last night," said the youth, "in reflecting on
this subject. I had come to a resolution, before you spoke, of confiding
to you my simple tale. I perceive in what circumstances I am placed, and
that I can keep my hold of your good opinion only by a candid
deportment. I have indeed given a promise which it was wrong, or rather
absurd, in another to exact, and in me to give; yet none but
considerations of the highest importance would persuade me to break my
promise. No injury will accrue from my disclosure to Welbeck. If there
should, dishonest as he was, that would be a sufficient reason for my
silence. Wortley will not, in any degree, be benefited by any
communication that I can make. Whether I grant or withhold information,
my conduct will have influence only on my own happiness, and that
influence will justify me in granting it.

"I received your protection when I was friendless and forlorn. You have
a right to know whom it is that you protected. My own fate is connected
with the fate of Welbeck, and that connection, together with the
interest you are pleased to take in my concerns, because they are mine,
will render a tale worthy of attention which will not be recommended by
variety of facts or skill in the display of them.

"Wortley, though passionate, and, with regard to me, unjust, may yet be
a good man; but I have no desire to make him one of my auditors. You,
sir, may, if you think proper, relate to him afterwards what particulars