"I quickly discovered that to execute this scheme demanded time,
application, and money, none of which my present situation would permit
me to devote to it. At first it appeared that an attainable degree of
skill and circumspection would enable me to arrive, by means of
counterfeit bills, to the pinnacle of affluence and honour. My error was
detected by a closer scrutiny, and I finally saw nothing in this path
but enormous perils and insurmountable impediments. "Yet what alternative was offered me? To maintain myself by the labour
of my hands, to perform any toilsome or prescribed task, was
incompatible with my nature. My habits debarred me from country
occupations. My pride regarded as vile and ignominious drudgery any
employment which the town could afford. Meanwhile, my wants were as
urgent as ever, and my funds were exhausted. "There are few, perhaps, whose external situation resembled mine, who
would have found in it any thing but incitements to industry and
invention. A thousand methods of subsistence, honest but laborious,
were at my command, but to these I entertained an irreconcilable
aversion. Ease and the respect attendant upon opulence I was willing to
purchase at the price of ever-wakeful suspicion and eternal remorse;
but, even at this price, the purchase was impossible. "The desperateness of my condition became hourly more apparent. The
further I extended my view, the darker grew the clouds which hung over
futurity. Anguish and infamy appeared to be the inseparable conditions
of my existence. There was one mode of evading the evils that impended. To free myself from self-upbraiding and to shun the persecutions of my
fortune was possible only by shaking off life itself. "One evening, as I traversed the bank of the creek, these dismal
meditations were uncommonly intense. They at length terminated in a
resolution to throw myself into the stream. The first impulse was to
rush instantly to my death; but the remembrance of papers, lying at my
lodgings, which might unfold more than I desired to the curiosity of
survivors, induced me to postpone this catastrophe till the next
morning. "My purpose being formed, I found my heart lightened of its usual
weight. By you it will be thought strange, but it is nevertheless true,
that I derived from this new prospect not only tranquillity but
cheerfulness. I hastened home. As soon as I entered, my landlord
informed me that a person had been searching for me in my absence. This
was an unexampled incident, and foreboded me no good. I was strongly
persuaded that my visitant had been led hither not by friendly but
hostile purposes. This persuasion was confirmed by the description of
the stranger's guise and demeanour given by my landlord. My fears
instantly recognised the image of Watson, the man by whom I had been so
eminently benefited, and whose kindness I had compensated by the ruin of
his sister and the confusion of his family. "An interview with this man was less to be endured than to look upon the
face of an avenging deity. I was determined to avoid this interview,
and, for this end, to execute my fatal purpose within the hour. My
papers were collected with a tremulous hand, and consigned to the
flames. I then bade my landlord inform all visitants that I should not
return till the next day, and once more hastened towards the river. "My way led past the inn where one of the stages from Baltimore was
accustomed to stop. I was not unaware that Watson had possibly been
brought in the coach which had recently arrived, and which now stood
before the door of the inn. The danger of my being descried or
encountered by him as I passed did not fail to occur. This was to be
eluded by deviating from the main street. "Scarcely had I turned a corner for this purpose when I was accosted by
a young man whom I knew to be an inhabitant of the town, but with whom I
had hitherto had no intercourse but what consisted in a transient
salutation. He apologized for the liberty of addressing me, and, at the
same time, inquired if I understood the French language. "Being answered in the affirmative, he proceeded to tell me that in the
stage, just arrived, had come a passenger, a youth who appeared to be
French, who was wholly unacquainted with our language, and who had been
seized with a violent disease. "My informant had felt compassion for the forlorn condition of the
stranger, and had just been seeking me at my lodgings, in hope that my
knowledge of French would enable me to converse with the sick man, and
obtain from him a knowledge of his situation and views. "The apprehensions I had precipitately formed were thus removed, and I
readily consented to perform this service. The youth was, indeed, in a
deplorable condition. Besides the pains of his disease, he was
overpowered by dejection. The innkeeper was extremely anxious for the
removal of his guest. He was by no means willing to sustain the trouble
and expense of a sick or a dying man, for which it was scarcely probable
that he should ever be reimbursed. The traveller had no baggage, and his
dress betokened the pressure of many wants. "My compassion for this stranger was powerfully awakened. I was in
possession of a suitable apartment, for which I had no power to pay the
rent that was accruing; but my inability in this respect was unknown,
and I might enjoy my lodgings unmolested for some weeks. The fate of
this youth would be speedily decided, and I should be left at liberty to
execute my first intentions before my embarrassments should be visibly
increased. "After a moment's pause, I conducted the stranger to my home, placed him
in my own bed, and became his nurse. His malady was such as is known in
the tropical islands by the name of the yellow or malignant fever, and
the physician who was called speedily pronounced his case desperate. "It was my duty to warn him of the death that was hastening, and to
promise the fulfilment of any of his wishes not inconsistent with my
present situation. He received my intelligence with fortitude, and
appeared anxious to communicate some information respecting his own
state. His pangs and his weakness scarcely allowed him to be
intelligible. From his feeble efforts and broken narrative I collected
thus much concerning his family and fortune. "His father's name was Vincentio Lodi. From a merchant at Leghorn, he
had changed himself into a planter in the island of Guadaloupe. His son
had been sent, at an early age, for the benefits of education, to
Europe. The young Vincentio was, at length, informed by his father,
that, being weary of his present mode of existence, he had determined to
sell his property and transport himself to the United States. The son
was directed to hasten home, that he might embark, with his father, on
this voyage. "The summons was cheerfully obeyed. The youth, on his arrival at the
island, found preparation making for the funeral of his father.