He gave no distinct account of his family, but stated, in loose terms,
that they were residents in England, high-born and wealthy. That they
had denied him the woman whom he loved and banished him to America,
under penalty of death if he should dare to return, and that they had
refused him all means of subsistence in a foreign land. He predicted, in
his wild and declamatory way, his own death. He was very skilful at the
pencil, and drew this portrait a short time before his dissolution,
presented it to me, and charged me to preserve it in remembrance of him.
My mother loved the youth because he was amiable and unfortunate, and
chiefly because she fancied a very powerful resemblance between his
countenance and mine. I was too young to build affection on any rational
foundation. I loved him, for whatever reason, with an ardour unusual at
my age, and which this portrait had contributed to prolong and to
cherish.

In thus finally leaving my home, I was careful not to leave this picture
behind. I wrapped it in paper in which a few elegiac stanzas were
inscribed in my own hand, and with my utmost elegance of penmanship. I
then placed it in a leathern case, which, for greater security, was
deposited in the centre of my bundle. It will occur to you, perhaps,
that it would be safer in some fold or pocket of the clothes which I
wore. I was of a different opinion, and was now to endure the penalty of
my error.

It was in vain to heap execrations on my negligence, or to consume the
little strength left to me in regrets. I returned once more to the
tavern and made inquiries for Mr. Capper, the person whom I have just
mentioned as my father's neighbour. I was informed that Capper was now
in town; that he had lodged, on the last night, at this house; that he
had expected to do the same to-night, but a gentleman had called ten