insult, she hid herself from all my enquiries. I wandered in search of
her two long years to no purpose, regardless of my affairs, and of all
things but that pursuit. At length, I thought I saw her--in London,
alone, and walking in the streets at midnight,--I fearfully followed
her,--and followed her into an house of infamy!

"The wretches by whom she was surrounded were noisy and drinking, they
heeded me little,--but she saw and knew me at once! She did not speak,
nor did I,--but in two moments she fainted and fell.

"Yet did I not help her; the people took their own measures to recover
her, and when she was again able to stand, would have removed her to
another apartment.

"I then went forward, and forcing them away from her with all the
strength of desperation, I turned to the unhappy sinner, who to chance
only seemed to leave what became of her, and cried, From this scene of
vice and horror let me yet rescue you! you look still unfit for such
society, trust yourself, therefore, to me. I seized her hand, I drew, I
almost dragged her away. She trembled, she could scarce totter, but
neither consented nor refused, neither shed a tear, nor spoke a word,
and her countenance presented a picture of affright, amazement, and
horror.

"I took her to a house in the country, each of us silent the whole way.
I gave her an apartment and a female attendant, and ordered for her
every convenience I could suggest. I stayed myself in the same house,
but distracted with remorse for the guilt and ruin into which I had
terrified her, I could not bear her sight.