brought him out with me. His confusion sufficiently indicated his
knowledge of transactions between Welbeck and me. I questioned him as to
the fate of that man. To own the truth, I expected some well-digested
lie; but he merely said that he had promised secrecy on that subject,
and must therefore be excused from giving me any information. I asked
him if he knew that his master, or accomplice, or whatever was his
relation to him, absconded in my debt? He answered that he knew it well;
but still pleaded a promise of inviolable secrecy as to his
hiding-place. This conduct justly exasperated me, and I treated him with
the severity which he deserved. I am half ashamed to confess the
excesses of my passion; I even went so far as to strike him. He bore my
insults with the utmost patience. No doubt the young villain is well
instructed in his lesson. He knows that he may safely defy my power.
From threats I descended to entreaties. I even endeavoured to wind the
truth from him by artifice. I promised him a part of the debt if he
would enable me to recover the whole. I offered him a considerable
reward if he would merely afford me a clue by which I might trace him to
his retreat; but all was insufficient. He merely put on an air of
perplexity and shook his head in token of non-compliance."

Such was my friend's account of this interview. His suspicions were
unquestionably plausible; but I was disposed to put a more favourable
construction on Mervyn's behaviour. I recollected the desolate and
penniless condition in which I found him, and the uniform complacency
and rectitude of his deportment for the period during which we had
witnessed it. These ideas had considerable influence on my judgment, and
indisposed me to follow the advice of my friend, which was to turn him
forth from my doors that very night.

My wife's prepossessions were still more powerful advocates of this