"Was there anybody with him, madam?"

"Yes. One Clarges,--a jeweller,--an ill-looking, suspicious
person."

"Do you know any thing of this Clarges?"

"Nothing but what I am sorry to know. He is a dissolute fellow, who has
broken the hearts of two wives, and thrown his children for maintenance on
their maternal relations. 'Tis the same who carried your last check to the
bank."

I just then faintly recollected the name of Clarges, as having occurred
in the conversation at the watchmaker's, and as being the name of him who
had produced the paper. This, then, was the person who was to have been
introduced to me as the friend in need, the meritorious father of a
numerous family, whom the payment of a just debt was to relieve from
imminent ruin! How loathsome, how detestable, how insecure, are fraud and
treachery! Had he been confronted with me, no doubt he would have
recognised the person whom he stared at at the watch-maker's.

Next morning I received a note, dated on the preceding evening. These
were the terms of it:--

"I am sorry to say, Jane, that the ruin of a father and brother may
justly be laid at your door. Not to save them, when the means were in your
power, and when entreated to use the means, makes you the author of their
ruin. The crisis has come. Had you shown a little mercy, the crisis might
have terminated favourably. As it is, we are undone. You do not deserve to
know the place of my retreat. Your unsisterly heart will prompt you to