While sitting alone by the parlour-fire, marking the effects of
moonlight, I noted one on horseback coming towards the gate. At first
sight, methought his shape and guise were not wholly new to me; but all
that I could discern was merely a resemblance to some one whom I had
before seen. Presently he stopped, and, looking towards the house, made
inquiries of a passenger who chanced to be near. Being apparently
satisfied with the answers he received, he rode with a quick pace into
the court and alighted at the door. I started from my seat, and, going
forth, waited with some impatience to hear his purpose explained.
He accosted me with the formality of a stranger, and asked if a young
man, by name Edgar Huntly, resided here. Being answered in the
affirmative, and being requested to come in, he entered, and seated
himself, without hesitation, by the fire. Some doubt and anxiety were
visible in his looks. He seemed desirous of information upon some topic,
and yet betrayed terror lest the answers he might receive should subvert
some hope or confirm some foreboding.
Meanwhile I scrutinized his features with much solicitude. A nearer and
more deliberate view convinced me that the first impression was just;
but still I was unable to call up his name or the circumstances of our
former meeting. The pause was at length ended by his saying, in a
faltering voice,--
"My name is Weymouth. I came hither to obtain information on a subject
in which my happiness is deeply concerned."
At the mention of his name, I started. It was a name too closely
connected with the image of thy brother, not to call up affecting and
vivid recollections. Weymouth, thou knowest, was thy brother's friend.
It is three years since this man left America, during which time no
tidings had been heard of him,--at least, by thy brother. He had now
returned, and was probably unacquainted with the fate of his friend.
After an anxious pause, he continued:--"Since my arrival I have heard of
an event which has, on many accounts, given me the deepest sorrow. I
loved Waldegrave, and know not any person in the world whose life was
dearer to me than his. There were considerations, however, which made it
more precious to me than the life of one whose merits might be greater.
With his life, my own existence and property were, I have reason to
think, inseparably united.
"On my return to my country, after a long absence, I made immediate
inquiries after him. I was informed of his untimely death. I had
questions, of infinite moment to my happiness, to decide with regard to
the state and disposition of his property. I sought out those of his
friends who had maintained with him the most frequent and confidential
intercourse, but they could not afford me any satisfaction. At length, I
was informed that a young man of your name, and living in this district,
had enjoyed more of his affection and society than any other, had
regulated the property which he left behind, and was best qualified to
afford the intelligence which I sought. You, it seems, are this person,
and of you I must make inquiries to which I conjure you to return
sincere and explicit answers."
"That," said I, "I shall find no difficulty in doing. Whatever questions
you shall think proper to ask, I will answer with readiness and truth."
"What kind of property, and to what amount, was your friend possessed of
at his death?"
"It was money, and consisted of deposits at the Bank of North America.
The amount was little short of eight thousand dollars."
"On whom has this property devolved?"
"His sister was his only kindred, and she is now in possession of it."
"Did he leave any will by which he directed the disposition of his
property?" While thus speaking, Weymouth fixed his eyes upon my
countenance, and seemed anxious to pierce into my inmost soul. I was
somewhat surprised at his questions, but much more at the manner in
which they were put. I answered him, however, without delay:--"He left
no will, nor was any paper discovered by which we could guess at his
intentions. No doubt, indeed, had he made a will, his sister would have
been placed precisely in the same condition in which she now is. He was
not only bound to her by the strongest ties of kindred, but by affection
and gratitude."
Weymouth now withdrew his eyes from my face, and sunk into a mournful
reverie. He sighed often and deeply. This deportment and the strain of
his inquiries excited much surprise. His interest in the fate of
Waldegrave ought to have made the information he had received a source
of satisfaction rather than of regret. The property which Waldegrave
left was much greater than his mode of life and his own professions had
given us reason to expect, but it was no more than sufficient to insure
to thee an adequate subsistence. It ascertained the happiness of those
who were dearest to Waldegrave, and placed them forever beyond the reach
of that poverty which had hitherto beset them. I made no attempt to
interrupt the silence, but prepared to answer any new interrogatory. At
length, Weymouth resumed:--
"Waldegrave was a fortunate man to amass so considerable a sum in so
short a time. I remember, when we parted, he was poor. He used to lament
that his scrupulous integrity precluded him from all the common roads to
wealth. He did not contemn riches, but he set the highest value upon
competence, and imagined that he was doomed forever to poverty. His
religious duty compelled him to seek his livelihood by teaching a school
of blacks. The labour was disproportioned to his feeble constitution,
and the profit was greatly disproportioned to the labour. It scarcely
supplied the necessities of nature, and was reduced sometimes even below
that standard by his frequent indisposition. I rejoice to find that his
scruples had somewhat relaxed their force, and that he had betaken
himself to some more profitable occupation. Pray, what was his new way
of business?"
"Nay," said I, "his scruples continued as rigid, in this respect, as
ever. He was teacher of the negro freeschool when he died."
"Indeed! How, then, came he to amass so much money? Could he blend any
more lucrative pursuit with his duty as a schoolmaster?"
"So it seems."
"What was his pursuit?"
"That question, I believe, none of his friends are qualified to answer.
I thought myself acquainted with the most secret transactions of his
life, but this had been carefully concealed from me. I was not only
unapprized of any other employment of his time, but had not the
slightest suspicion of his possessing any property besides his clothes
and books. Ransacking his papers, with a different view, I lighted on
his bank-book, in which was a regular receipt for seven thousand five
hundred dollars. By what means he acquired this money, and even the
acquisition of it, till his death put us in possession of his papers,
was wholly unknown to us."
"Possibly he might have held it in trust for another. In this case some
memorandums or letters would be found explaining this affair."
"True. This supposition could not fail to occur, in consequence of which
the most diligent search was made among his papers, but no shred or
scrap was to be found which countenanced our conjecture."
"You may reasonably be surprised, and perhaps offended," said Weymouth,
"at these inquiries; but it is time to explain my motives for making
them. Three years ago I was, like Waldegrave, indigent, and earned my
bread by daily labour. During seven years' service in a public office, I
saved, from the expenses of subsistence, a few hundred dollars. I
determined to strike into a new path, and, with this sum, to lay the
foundation of better fortune. I turned it into a bulky commodity,
freighted and loaded a small vessel, and went with it to Barcelona in
Spain. I was not unsuccessful in my projects, and, changing my abode to
England, France, and Germany, according as my interest required, I
became finally possessed of sufficient for the supply of all my wants. I
then resolved to return to my native country, and, laying out my money
in land, to spend the rest of my days in the luxury and quiet of an
opulent farmer. For this end I invested the greatest part of my property
in a cargo of wine from Madeira. The remainder I turned into a bill of
exchange for seven thousand five hundred dollars. I had maintained a
friendly correspondence with Waldegrave during my absence. There was no
one with whom I had lived on terms of so much intimacy, and had
boundless confidence in his integrity. To him therefore I determined to
transmit this bill, requesting him to take the money into safe-keeping
until my return. In this manner I endeavoured to provide against the
accidents that might befall my person or my cargo in crossing the ocean.
"It was my fate to encounter the worst of these disasters. We were
overtaken by a storm, my vessel was driven ashore on the coast of
Portugal, my cargo was utterly lost, and the greater part of the crew
and passengers were drowned. I was rescued from the same fate by some
fishermen. In consequence of the hardships to which I had been exposed,
having laboured for several days at the pumps, and spent the greater
part of a winter night hanging from the rigging of the ship and
perpetually beaten by the waves, I contracted a severe disease, which
bereaved me of the use of my limbs. The fishermen who rescued me carried
me to their huts, and there I remained three weeks helpless and
miserable.
"That part of the coast on which I was thrown was, in the highest
degree, sterile and rude. Its few inhabitants subsisted precariously on
the produce of the ocean. Their dwellings were of mud,--low, filthy,
dark, and comfortless. Their fuel was the stalks of shrubs sparingly
scattered over a sandy desert. Their poverty scarcely allowed them salt
and black bread with their fish, which was obtained in unequal and
sometimes insufficient quantities, and which they ate with all its
impurities, and half cooked.
"My former habits, as well as my present indisposition, required very
different treatment from what the ignorance and penury of these people
obliged them to bestow. I lay upon the moist earth, imperfectly
sheltered from the sky, and with neither raiment nor fire to keep me
warm. My hosts had little attention or compassion to spare to the wants
of others. They could not remove me to a more hospitable district; and
here, without doubt, I should have perished, had not a monk chanced to
visit their hovels. He belonged to a convent of St. Jago, some leagues
farther from the shore, which used to send one of its members annually
to inspect the religious concerns of those outcasts. Happily, this was
the period of their visitations.
"My abode in Spain had made me somewhat conversant with its language.
The dialect of this monk did not so much differ from Castilian but that,
with the assistance of Latin, we were able to converse. The jargon of
the fishermen was unintelligible, and they had vainly endeavoured to
keep up my spirits by informing me of this expected visit.
"This monk was touched with compassion at my calamity, and speedily
provided the means of my removal to his convent. Here I was charitably
entertained, and the aid of a physician was procured for me. He was but
poorly skilled in his profession, and rather confirmed than alleviated
my disease. The Portuguese of his trade, especially in remoter
districts, are little more than dealers in talismans and nostrums. For a
long time I was unable to leave my pallet, and had no prospect before me
but that of consuming my days in the gloom of this cloister.
"All the members of this convent but he who had been my first
benefactor, and whose name was Chaledro, were bigoted and sordid. Their
chief motive for treating me with kindness was the hope of obtaining a
convert from heresy. They spared no pains to subdue my errors, and were
willing to prolong my imprisonment, in the hope of finally gaining their
end. Had my fate been governed by those, I should have been immured in
this convent, and compelled either to adopt their fanatical creed or to
put an end to my own life, in order to escape their well-meant
persecutions. Chaledro, however, though no less sincere in his faith and
urgent in his entreaties, yet finding me invincible, exerted his
influence to obtain my liberty.
"After many delays, and strenuous exertions of my friend, they consented
to remove me to Oporto. The journey was to be performed in an open cart,
over a mountainous country, in the heats of summer. The monks
endeavoured to dissuade me from the enterprise, for my own sake, it
being scarcely possible that one in my feeble state should survive a
journey like this; but I despaired of improving my condition by other
means. I preferred death to the imprisonment of a Portuguese monastery,
and knew that I could hope for no alleviation of my disease but from the
skill of Scottish or French physicians, whom I expected to meet with in
that city. I adhered to my purpose with so much vehemence and obstinacy,
that they finally yielded to my wishes.
"My road lay through the wildest and most rugged districts. It did not
exceed ninety miles, but seven days were consumed on the way. The motion
of the vehicle racked me with the keenest pangs, and my attendants
concluded that every stage would be my last. They had been selected
without due regard to their characters. They were knavish and inhuman,
and omitted nothing but actual violence to hasten my death. They
purposely retarded the journey, and protracted to seven what might have
been readily performed in four days. They neglected to execute the
orders which they had received respecting my lodging and provisions; and
from them, as well as from the peasants, who were sure to be informed
that I was a heretic, I suffered every species of insult and injury. My
constitution, as well as my frame, possessed a fund of strength of which
I had no previous conception. In spite of hardship, and exposure, and
abstinence, I at last arrived at Oporto.
"Instead of being carried, agreeably to Chaledro's direction, to a
convent of St. Jago, I was left, late in the evening, in the porch of a
common hospital. My attendants, having laid me on the pavement and
loaded me with imprecations, left me to obtain admission by my own
efforts. I passed the livelong night in this spot, and in the morning
was received into the house in a state which left it uncertain whether I
was alive or dead.
"After recovering my sensibility, I made various efforts to procure a
visit from some English merchant. This was no easy undertaking for one
in my deplorable condition. I was too weak to articulate my words
distinctly, and these words were rendered, by my foreign accent,
scarcely intelligible. The likelihood of my speedy death made the people
about me more indifferent to my wants and petitions.
"I will not dwell upon my repeated disappointments, but content myself
with mentioning that I gained the attention of a French gentleman whose
curiosity brought him to view the hospital. Through him I obtained a
visit from an English merchant, and finally gained the notice of a
person who formerly resided in America, and of whom I had imperfect
knowledge. By their kindness I was removed from the hospital to a
private house. A Scottish surgeon was summoned to my assistance, and in
seven months I was restored to my present state of health.
"At Oporto, I embarked, in an American ship, for New York. I was
destitute of all property, and relied, for the payment of the debts
which I was obliged to contract, as well as for my future subsistence,
on my remittance to Waldegrave. I hastened to Philadelphia, and was soon
informed that my friend was dead. His death had taken place a long time
since my remittance to him: hence this disaster was a subject of regret
chiefly on his own account. I entertained no doubt but that my property
had been secured, and that either some testamentary directions or some
papers had been left behind respecting this affair.
"I sought out those who were formerly our mutual acquaintance. I found
that they were wholly strangers to his affairs. They could merely relate
some particulars of his singular death, and point out the lodgings which
he formerly occupied. Hither I forthwith repaired, and discovered that
he lived in this house with his sister, disconnected with its other
inhabitants. They described his mode of life in terms that showed them
to be very imperfectly acquainted with it. It was easy indeed to infer,
from their aspect and manners, that little sympathy or union could have
subsisted between them and their co-tenants; and this inference was
confirmed by their insinuations, the growth of prejudice and envy. They
told me that Waldegrave's sister had gone to live in the country, but
whither, or for how long, she had not condescended to inform them, and
they did not care to ask. She was a topping dame, whose notions were
much too high for her station; who was more nice than wise, and yet was
one who could stoop when it most became her to stand upright. It was no
business of theirs; but they could not but mention their suspicions that
she had good reasons for leaving the city and for concealing the place
of her retreat. Some things were hard to be disguised. They spoke for
themselves, and the only way to hinder disagreeable discoveries was to
keep out of sight.
"I was wholly a stranger to Waldegrave's sister. I knew merely that he
had such a relation. There was nothing, therefore, to outbalance this
unfavourable report, but the apparent malignity and grossness of those
who gave it. It was not, however, her character about which I was
solicitous, but merely the place where she might be found and the
suitable inquiries respecting her deceased brother be answered. On this
head, these people professed utter ignorance, and were either unable or
unwilling to direct me to any person in the city who knew more than
themselves. After much discourse, they, at length, let fall an
intimation that, if any one knew her place of retreat, it was probably a
country-lad, by name Huntly, who lived near the _Forks_ of
Delaware. After Waldegrave's death this lad had paid his sister a visit,
and seemed to be admitted on a very confidential footing. She left the
house, for the last time, in his company, and he, therefore, was most
likely to know what had become of her.
"The name of Huntly was not totally unknown to me. I myself was born and
brought up in the neighbouring township of Chetasco. I had some
knowledge of your family, and your name used often to be mentioned by
Waldegrave as that of one who, at a maturer age, would prove himself
useful to his country. I determined, therefore, to apply to you for what
information you could give. I designed to visit my father, who lives in
Chetasco, and relieve him from that disquiet which his ignorance of my
fate could not fail to have inspired, and both these ends could be thus,
at the same time, accomplished.
"Before I left the city, I thought it proper to apply to the merchant on
whom my bill had been drawn. If this bill had been presented and paid,
he had doubtless preserved some record of it, and hence a clue might be
afforded, though every other expedient should fail. My usual ill fortune
pursued me upon this occasion; for the merchant had lately become
insolvent, and, to avoid the rage of his creditors, had fled, without
leaving any vestige of this or similar transactions behind him. He had,
some years since, been an adventurer from Holland, and was suspected to
have returned thither."