criminal, I made no scruple to promise compliance with his wishes. Nay,
I went further than this; I desired to be accurately informed as to what
it was proper to conceal. He answered that my silence might extend to
every thing anterior to my arrival in the city and my being incorporated
with his family. Here our conversation ended, and I retired to ruminate
on what had passed.

I derived little satisfaction from my reflections. I began now to
perceive inconveniences that might arise from this precipitate promise.
Whatever should happen in consequence of my being immured in the
chamber, and of the loss of my clothes and of the portrait of my friend,
I had bound myself to silence. These inquietudes, however, were
transient. I trusted that these events would operate auspiciously; but
my curiosity was now awakened as to the motives which _Welbeck_ could
have for exacting from me this concealment. To act under the guidance of
another, and to wander in the dark, ignorant whither my path tended and
what effects might flow from my agency, was a new and irksome situation.

From these thoughts I was recalled by a message from Welbeck. He gave me
a folded paper, which he requested me to carry to No.--South Fourth
Street. "Inquire," said he, "for Mrs. Wentworth, in order merely to
ascertain the house, for you need not ask to see her; merely give the
letter to the servant and retire. Excuse me for imposing this service
upon you. It is of too great moment to be trusted to a common messenger;
I usually perform it myself, but am at present otherwise engaged."

I took the letter and set out to deliver it. This was a trifling
circumstance, yet my mind was full of reflections on the consequences
that might flow from it. I remembered the directions that were given,
but construed them in a manner different, perhaps, from Welbeck's