This morning, inquiring for one of your
appearance at the taverns, I was, at length, informed of your arrival
yesterday in the stage; of your going out alone in the evening; of your
subsequent return; and of your early departure this morning. Accidentally I lighted on your footsteps; and, by suitable inquiries on
the road, have finally traced you hither. "You told my sister her husband was dead. You left with her papers that
were probably in his possession at the time of his death. I understand
from Miss Maurice that the bills belonging to her mother have just been
delivered to her. I presume you have no objection to clear up this
mystery." "To you I am anxious to unfold every thing. At this moment, or at any
time, but the sooner the more agreeable to me, I will do it." "This," said he, looking around him, "is no place; there is an inn, not
a hundred yards from this gate, where I have left my horse; will you go
thither?" I readily consented, and, calling for a private apartment, I
laid before this man every incident of my life connected with Welbeck
and Watson; my full, circumstantial, and explicit story appeared to
remove every doubt which he might have entertained of my integrity. In Williams I found a plain, good man, of a temper confiding and
affectionate. My narration being finished, he expressed, by unaffected
tokens, his wonder and his grief on account of Watson's destiny. To my
inquiries, which were made with frankness and fervour, respecting his
own and his sister's condition, he said that the situation of both was
deplorable till the recovery of this property. They had been saved from
utter ruin, from beggary and a jail, only by the generosity and lenity
of his creditors, who did not suffer the suspicious circumstances
attending Watson's disappearance to outweigh former proofs of his
probity. They had never relinquished the hopes of receiving some tidings
of their kinsman. I related what had just passed in the house of Mrs. Maurice, and
requested to know from him the history and character of this family. "They have treated you," he answered, "exactly as any one who knew them
would have predicted. The mother is narrow, ignorant, bigoted, and
avaricious. The eldest daughter, whom you saw, resembles the old lady in
many things. Age, indeed, may render the similitude complete. At
present, pride and ill-humour are her chief characteristics. "The youngest daughter has nothing in mind or person in common with her
family. Where they are irascible, she is patient; where they are
imperious, she is humble; where they are covetous, she is liberal; where
they are ignorant and indolent, she is studious and skilful. It is rare,
indeed, to find a young lady more amiable than Miss Fanny Maurice, or
who has had more crosses and afflictions to sustain. "The eldest daughter always extorted the supply of her wants, from her
parents, by threats and importunities; but the younger could never be
prevailed upon to employ the same means, and, hence, she suffered
inconveniences which, to any other girl, born to an equal rank, would
have been, to the last degree, humiliating and vexatious. To her they
only afforded new opportunities for the display of her most shining
virtues,--fortitude and charity. No instance of their sordidness or
tyranny ever stole a murmur from her. For what they had given, existence
and a virtuous education, she said they were entitled to gratitude. What
they withheld was their own, in the use of which they were not
accountable to her. She was not ashamed to owe her subsistence to her
own industry, and was only held by the pride of her family--in this
instance their pride was equal to their avarice--from seeking out some
lucrative kind of employment. Since the shock which their fortune
sustained by Watson's disappearance, she has been permitted to pursue
this plan, and she now teaches music in Baltimore for a living. No one,
however, in the highest rank, can be more generally respected and
caressed than she is." "But will not the recovery of this money make a favourable change in her
condition?" "I can hardly tell; but I am inclined to think it will not. It will not
change her mother's character. Her pride may be awakened anew, and she
may oblige Miss Fanny to relinquish her new profession, and that will be
a change to be deplored." "What good has been done, then, by restoring this money?" "If pleasure be good, you must have conferred a great deal on the
Maurices; upon the mother and two of the daughters, at least,--the only
pleasure, indeed, which their natures can receive. It is less than if
you had raised them from absolute indigence, which has not been the
case, since they had wherewithal to live upon besides their Jamaica
property. But how?" continued Williams, suddenly recollecting himself;
"have you claimed the reward promised to him who should restore these
bills?" "What reward?" "No less than a thousand dollars. It was publicly promised under the
hands of Mrs. Maurice and of Hemmings, her husband's executor." "Really," said I, "that circumstance escaped my attention, and I wonder
that it did; but is it too late to repair the evil?" "Then you have no scruple to accept the reward?" "Certainly not. Could you suspect me of so strange a punctilio as that?" "Yes; but I know not why. The story you have just finished taught me to
expect some unreasonable refinement upon that head. To be hired, to be
bribed, to do our duty is supposed by some to be degrading." "This is no such bribe to me. I should have acted just as I have done,
had no recompense been promised. In truth, this has been my conduct, for
I never once thought of the reward; but, now that you remind me of it, I
would gladly see it bestowed. To fulfil their engagements, in this
respect, is no more than justice in the Maurices. To one in my condition
the money will be highly useful. If these people were poor, or generous
and worthy, or if I myself were already rich, I might less repine at
their withholding it; but, things being as they are with them and with
me, it would, I think, be gross injustice in them to withhold, and in me
to refuse." "That injustice," said Williams, "will, on their part, I fear, be
committed. 'Tis pity you first applied to Mrs. Maurice. Nothing can be
expected from her avarice, unless it be wrested from her by a lawsuit." "That is a force which I shall never apply." "Had you gone first to Hemmings, you might, I think, have looked for
payment. He is not a mean man. A thousand dollars, he must know, is not
much to give for forty thousand. Perhaps, indeed, it may not yet be too
late. I am well known to him, and, if you please, will attend you to him
in the evening, and state your claim." I thankfully accepted this offer, and went with him accordingly. I found
that Hemmings had been with Mrs. Maurice in the course of the day; had
received from her intelligence of this transaction, and had entertained
the expectation of a visit from me for this very purpose.