the belief that he had been involved in the general calamity, and was
to be numbered among the earliest victims. Those of his profession
usually resided in the street where the infection began, and where its
ravages had been most destructive; and this circumstance would
corroborate the conclusions of his friends.

I did not perceive any immediate advantage to flow from imparting the
knowledge I had lately gained to others. Shortly after Mervyn's
departure to Malverton, I was visited by Wortley. Inquiring for my
guest, I told him that, having recovered his health, he had left my
house. He repeated his invectives against the villany of Welbeck, his
suspicions of Mervyn, and his wishes for another interview with the
youth. Why had I suffered him to depart, and whither had he gone?

"He has gone for a short time into the country. I expect him to return
in less than a week, when you will meet with him here as often as you
please, for I expect him to take up his abode in this house."

Much astonishment and disapprobation were expressed by my friend. I
hinted that the lad had made disclosures to me, which justified my
confidence in his integrity. These proofs of his honesty were not of a
nature to be indiscriminately unfolded. Mervyn had authorized me to
communicate so much of his story to Wortley, as would serve to vindicate
him from the charge of being Welbeck's co-partner in fraud; but this end
would only be counteracted by an imperfect tale, and the full recital,
though it might exculpate Mervyn, might produce inconveniences by which
this advantage would be outweighed.

Wortley, as might be naturally expected, was by no means satisfied with
this statement. He suspected that Mervyn was a wily impostor; that he
had been trained in the arts of fraud, under an accomplished teacher;
that the tale which he had told to me was a tissue of ingenious and
plausible lies; that the mere assertions, however plausible and solemn,
of one like him, whose conduct had incurred such strong suspicions, were
unworthy of the least credit.

"It cannot be denied," continued my friend, "that he lived with Welbeck
at the time of his elopement; that they disappeared together; that they
entered a boat, at Pine Street wharf, at midnight; that this boat was
discovered by the owner in the possession of a fisherman at Redbank, who
affirmed that he had found it stranded near his door, the day succeeding
that on which they disappeared. Of all this I ca