My advice is to hasten back
into the country; but you must first take some repose and some victuals. If you pass Schuylkill before nightfall, it will be sufficient." I mentioned the difficulty of procuring accommodation on the road. It
would be most prudent to set out upon my journey so as to reach
_Malverton_ at night. As to food and sleep, they were not to be
purchased in this city. "True," answered my companion, with quickness, "they are not to be
bought; but I will furnish you with as much as you desire of both, for
nothing. That is my abode," continued he, pointing to the house which he
had lately left. "I reside with a widow lady and her daughter, who took
my counsel, and fled in due season. I remain to moralize upon the scene,
with only a faithful black, who makes my bed, prepares my coffee, and
bakes my loaf. If I am sick, all that a physician can do, I will do for
myself, and all that a nurse can perform, I expect to be performed by
_Austin_. "Come with me, drink some coffee, rest a while on my mattress, and then
fly, with my benedictions on your head." These words were accompanied by features disembarrassed and benevolent. My temper is alive to social impulses, and I accepted his invitation,
not so much because I wished to eat or to sleep, but because I felt
reluctance to part so soon with a being who possessed so much fortitude
and virtue. He was surrounded by neatness and plenty. Austin added dexterity to
submissiveness. My companion, whose name I now found to be Medlicote,
was prone to converse, and commented on the state of the city like one
whose reading had been extensive and experience large. He combated an
opinion which I had casually formed respecting the origin of this
epidemic, and imputed it, not to infected substances imported from the
East or West, but to a morbid constitution of the atmosphere, owing
wholly or in part to filthy streets, airless habitations, and squalid
persons. As I talked with this man, the sense of danger was obliterated, I felt
confidence revive in my heart, and energy revisit my stomach. Though far
from my wonted health, my sensation grew less comfortless, and I found
myself to stand in no need of repose. Breakfast being finished, my friend pleaded his daily engagements as
reasons for leaving me. He counselled me to strive for some repose, but
I was conscious of incapacity to sleep. I was desirous of escaping, as
soon as possible, from this tainted atmosphere, and reflected whether
any thing remained to be done respecting Wallace. It now occurred to me that this youth must have left some clothes and
papers, and, perhaps, books. The property of these was now vested in the
Hadwins. I might deem myself, without presumption, their representative
or agent. Might I not take some measures for obtaining possession, or at
least for the security, of these articles? The house and its furniture were tenantless and unprotected. It was
liable to be ransacked and pillaged by those desperate ruffians of whom
many were said to be hunting for spoil even at a time like this. If
these should overlook this dwelling, Thetford's unknown successor or
heir might appropriate the whole. Numberless accidents might happen to
occasion the destruction or embezzlement of what belonged to Wallace,
which might be prevented by the conduct which I should now pursue. Immersed in these perplexities, I remained bewildered and motionless. I
was at length roused by some one knocking at the door. Austin obeyed the
signal, and instantly returned, leading in--Mr. Hadwin! I know not whether this unlooked-for interview excited on my part most
grief or surprise. The motive of his coming was easily divined. His
journey was on two accounts superfluous. He whom he sought was dead. The
duty of ascertaining his condition I had assigned to myself. I now perceived and deplored the error of which I had been guilty, in
concealing my intended journey from my patron. Ignorant of the part I
had acted, he had rushed into the jaws of this pest, and endangered a
life unspeakably valuable to his children and friends. I should
doubtless have obtained his grateful consent to the project which I had
conceived; but my wretched policy had led me into this clandestine path. Secrecy may seldom be a crime. A virtuous intention may produce it; but
surely it is always erroneous and pernicious. My friend's astonishment at the sight of me was not inferior to my own. The causes which led to this unexpected interview were mutually
explained. To soothe the agonies of his child, he consented to approach
the city, and endeavour to procure intelligence of Wallace. When he
left his house, he intended to stop in the environs, and hire some
emissary, whom an ample reward might tempt to enter the city, and
procure the information which was needed. No one could be prevailed upon to execute so dangerous a service. Averse
to return without performing his commission, he concluded to examine for
himself. Thetford's removal to this street was known to him; but, being
ignorant of my purpose, he had not mentioned this circumstance to me,
during our last conversation. I was sensible of the danger which Hadwin had incurred by entering the
city. Perhaps my knowledge of the inexpressible importance of his life
to the happiness of his daughters made me aggravate his danger. I knew
that the longer he lingered in this tainted air, the hazard was
increased. A moment's delay was unnecessary. Neither Wallace nor myself
were capable of being benefited by his presence. I mentioned the death of his nephew as a reason for hastening his
departure. I urged him in the most vehement terms to remount his horse
and to fly; I endeavoured to preclude all inquiries respecting myself or
Wallace; promising to follow him immediately, and answer all his
questions at _Malverton_. My importunities were enforced by his own
fears, and, after a moment's hesitation, he rode away. The emotions produced by this incident were, in the present critical
state of my frame, eminently hurtful. My morbid indications suddenly
returned. I had reason to ascribe my condition to my visit to the
chamber of Maravegli; but this and its consequences to myself, as well
as the journey of Hadwin, were the fruits of my unhappy secrecy. I had always been accustomed to perform my journeys on foot. This, on
ordinary occasions, was the preferable method, but now I ought to have
adopted the easiest and swiftest means. If Hadwin had been acquainted
with my purpose he would not only have approved, but would have allowed
me, the use of a horse. These reflections were rendered less pungent by
the recollection that my motives were benevolent, and that I had
endeavoured the benefit of others by means which appeared to me most
suitable. Meanwhile, how was I to proceed? What hindered me from pursuing the
footsteps of Hadwin with all the expedition which my uneasiness, of
brain and stomach, would allow?