s of dishonesty
affected me but little. They excited no anger, because they originated
in ignorance, and were rendered plausible to Welbeck by such facts as
were known to him. It was needless to confute the charge by elaborate
and circumstantial details.

It was true that my recovery was, in the highest degree, improbable, and
that my death would put an end to my power over this money; but had I
not determined to secure its useful application in case of my death?
This project was obstructed by the presence of Welbeck; but I hoped that
his love of life would induce him to fly. He might wrest this volume
from me by violence, or he might wait till my death should give him
peaceable possession. But these, though probable events, were not
certain, and would, by no means, justify the voluntary surrender. His
strength, if employed for this end, could not be resisted; but then it
would be a sacrifice, not a choice, but necessity.

Promises were easily given, but were surely not to be confided in.
Welbeck's own tale, in which it could not be imagined that he had
aggravated his defects, attested the frailty of his virtue. To put into
his hands a sum like this, in expectation of his delivering it to
another, when my death would cover the transaction with impenetrable
secrecy, would be, indeed, a proof of that infatuation which he thought
proper to impute to me.

These thoughts influenced my resolutions, but they were revolved in
silence. To state them verbally was useless. They would not justify my
conduct in his eyes. They would only exasperate dispute, and impel him
to those acts of violence which I was desirous of preventing. The sooner
this controversy should end, and I in any measure be freed from the
obstruction of his company, the better.

"Mr. Welbeck," said I, "my regard to your safety compels me to wish that
this interview should terminate. At a different time, I should not be
unwilling to discuss this matter. Now it will be fruitless. My
conscience points out to me too clearly the path I should pursue for me
to mistake it. As long as I have power over this money, I shall keep it
for the use of the unfortunate lady whom I have seen in this house. I
shall exert myself to find her; but, if that be impossible, I shall
appropriate it in a way in which you shall have no participation."

I will not repeat the contest that succeeded between my forbearance and
his passions. I listened to the dictates of his rage and his ava