youth. She would vouch, she said, before any tribunal, for his
innocence; but she willingly concurred with me in allowing him the
continuance of our friendship on no other condition than that of a
disclosure of the truth. To entitle ourselves to this confidence we were
willing to engage, in our turn, for the observance of secrecy, so far
that no detriment should accrue from this disclosure to himself or his
friend.

Next morning, at breakfast, our guest appeared with a countenance less
expressive of embarrassment than on the last evening. His attention was
chiefly engaged by his own thoughts, and little was said till the
breakfast was removed. I then reminded him of the incidents of the
former day, and mentioned that the uneasiness which thence arose to us
had rather been increased than diminished by time.

"It is in your power, my young friend," continued I, "to add still more
to this uneasiness, or to take it entirely away. I had no personal
acquaintance with Thomas Welbeck. I have been informed by others that
his character, for a certain period, was respectable, but that, at
length, he contracted large debts, and, instead of paying them,
absconded. You, it seems, lived with him. On the night of his departure
you are known to have accompanied him across the river, and this, it
seems, is the first of your reappearance on the stage. Welbeck's conduct
was dishonest. He ought doubtless to be pursued to his asylum and be
compelled to refund his winnings. You confess yourself to know his place
of refuge, but urge a promise of secrecy. Know you not that to assist or
connive at the escape of this man was wrong? To have promised to favour
his concealment and impunity by silence was only an aggravation of this
wrong. That, however, is past. Your youth, and circumstances, hitherto
unexplained, may apologize for that misconduct; but it is certainly your