Arthur Mervyn; Or, Memoirs of the Year 1793

by Charles Brockden Brown

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  Here ended the narrative of Mervyn. Surely its incidents were of nocommon kind. During this season of pestilence, my opportunities ofobservation had been numerous, and I had not suffered them to passunimproved. The occurrences which fell within my own experience bore ageneral resemblance to those which had just been related, but they didnot hinder the latter from striking on my mind with all the force ofnovelty. They served no end, but as vouchers for the truth of the tale.

  Surely the youth had displayed inimitable and heroic qualities. Hiscourage was the growth of benevolence and reason, and not the child ofinsensibility and the nursling of habit. He had been qualified for theencounter of gigantic dangers by no laborious education. He steppedforth upon the stage, unfurnished, by anticipation or experience, withthe means of security against fraud; and yet, by the aid of pureintentions, had frustrated the wiles of an accomplished and veterandeceiver.

  I blessed the chance which placed the youth under my protection. When Ireflected on that tissue of nice contingencies which led him to my door,and enabled me to save from death a being of such rare endowments, myheart overflowed with joy, not unmingled with regrets and trepidation.How many have been cut off by this disease, in their career of virtueand their blossom-time of genius! How many deeds of heroism andself-devotion are ravished from existence, and consigned to hopelessoblivion!

  I had saved the life of this youth. This was not the limit of my duty ormy power. Could I not render that life profitable to himself and tomankind? The gains of my profession were slender; but these gains weresufficient for his maintenance as well as my own. By residing with me,partaking my instructions, and reading my books, he would, in a fewyears, be fitted for the practice of physic. A science whose truths areso conducive to the welfare of mankind, and which comprehends the wholesystem of nature, could not but gratify a mind so beneficent andstrenuous as his.

  This scheme occurred to me as soon as the conclusion of his tale allowedme to think. I did not immediately mention it, since the approbation ofmy wife, of whose concurrence, however, I entertained no doubt, waspreviously to be obtained. Dismissing it, for the present, from mythoughts, I reverted to the incidents of his tale.

  The lady whom Welbeck had betrayed and deserted was not unknown to me. Iwas but too well acquainted with her fate. If she had been single incalamity, her tale would have been listened to with insupportablesympathy; but the frequency of the spectacle of distress seems to lessenthe compassion with which it is reviewed. Now that those scenes are onlyremembered, my anguish is greater than when they were witnessed. Thenevery new day was only a repetition of the disasters of the foregoing.My sensibility, if not extinguished, was blunted; and I gazed upon thecomplicated ills of poverty and sickness with a degree of unconcern onwhich I should once have reflected with astonishment.

  The fate of Clemenza Lodi was not, perhaps, more signal than many whichhave occurred. It threw detestable light upon the character of Welbeck,and showed him to be more inhuman than the tale of Mervyn had evincedhim to be. That man, indeed, was hitherto imperfectly seen. The time hadnot come which should fully unfold the enormity of his transgressionsand the complexity of his frauds.

  There lived in a remote quarter of the city a woman, by name Villars,who passed for the widow of an English officer. Her manners and mode ofliving were specious. She had three daughters, well trained in theschool of fashion, and elegant in person, manners, and dress. They hadlately arrived from Europe, and, for a time, received from theirneighbours that respect to which their education and fortune appeared tolay claim.

  The fallacy of their pretensions slowly appeared. It began to besuspected that their subsistence was derived not from pension orpatrimony, but from the wages of pollution. Their habitation wasclandestinely frequented by men who were unfaithful to their secret; oneof these was allied to me by ties which authorized me in watching hissteps and detecting his errors, with a view to his reformation. From himI obtained a knowledge of the genuine character of these women.

  A man like Welbeck, who was the slave of depraved appetites, could notfail of being quickly satiated with innocence and beauty. Some accidentintroduced him to the knowledge of this family, and the youngestdaughter found him a proper subject on which to exercise her artifices.It was to the frequent demands made upon his purse, by this woman, thatpart of the embarrassments in which Mervyn found him involved are to beascribed.

  To this circumstance must likewise be imputed his anxiety to transfer tosome other the possession of the unhappy stranger. Why he concealed fromMervyn his connection with Lucy Villars may be easily imagined. Hissilence with regard to Clemenza's asylum will not create surprise, whenit was told that she was placed with Mrs. Villars. On what conditionsshe was received under this roof, cannot be so readily conjectured. Itis obvious, however, to suppose that advantage was to be taken of herignorance and weakness, and that they hoped, in time, to make her anassociate in their profligate schemes.

  The appearance of pestilence, meanwhile, threw them into panic, and theyhastened to remove from danger. Mrs. Villars appears to have been awoman of no ordinary views. She stooped to the vilest means of amassingmoney; but this money was employed to secure to herself and herdaughters the benefits of independence. She purchased the house whichshe occupied in the city, and a mansion in the environs, well built andsplendidly furnished. To the latter, she and her family, of which theItalian girl was now a member, retired at the close of July.

  I have mentioned that the source of my intelligence was a kinsman, whohad been drawn from the paths of sobriety and rectitude by theimpetuosity of youthful passions. He had power to confess and deplore,but none to repair, his errors. One of these women held him by a spellwhich he struggled in vain to dissolve, and by which, in spite ofresolutions and remorses, he was drawn to her feet, and made tosacrifice to her pleasure his reputation and his fortune.

  My house was his customary abode during those intervals in which he waspersuaded to pursue his profession. Some time before the infection beganits progress, he had disappeared. No tidings were received of him, tilla messenger arrived, entreating my assistance. I was conducted to thehouse of Mrs. Villars, in which I found no one but my kinsman. Here, itseems, he had immured himself from my inquiries, and, on being seized bythe reigning malady, had been deserted by the family, who, ere theydeparted, informed me by a messenger of his condition.

  Despondency combined with his disease to destroy him. Before he died, heinformed me fully of the character of his betrayers. The late arrival,name, and personal condition of Clemenza Lodi were related. Welbeck wasnot named, but was described in terms which, combined with the narrativeof Mervyn, enabled me to recognise the paramour of Lucy Villars in theman whose crimes had been the principal theme of our discourse.

  Mervyn's curiosity was greatly roused when I intimated my acquaintancewith the fate of Clemenza. In answer to his eager interrogations, Irelated what I knew. The tale plunged him into reverie. Recovering, atlength, from his thoughtfulness, he spoke:--

  "Her condition is perilous. The poverty of Welbeck will drive him farfrom her abode. Her profligate protectors will entice her or abandon herto ruin. Cannot she be saved?"

  "I know not," answered I, "by what means."

  "The means are obvious. Let her remove to some other dwelling. Let herbe apprized of the vices of those who surround her. Let her be entreatedto fly. The will need only be inspired, the danger need only be shown,and she is safe, for she will remove beyond its reach."

  "Thou art an adventurous youth. Who wilt thou find to undertake theoffice? Who will be persuaded to enter the house of a stranger, seekwithout an introduction the presence of this girl, tell her that thehouse she inhabits is a house of prostitution, prevail on her to believethe tale, and persuade her to accompany him? Who will open his house tothe fugitive? Whom will you convince that her illicit intercourse withWelbeck, of which the opprobrious tokens cannot be concealed, has notfitted her for the company of prostitutes, and made her unwo
rthy ofprotection? Who will adopt into their family a stranger whose conducthas incurred infamy, and whose present associates have, no doubt, madeher worthy of the curse?"

  "True. These are difficulties which I did not foresee. Must she thenperish? Shall not something be done to rescue her from infamy andguilt?"

  "It is neither in your power nor in mine to do any thing."

  The lateness of the hour put an end to our conversation and summoned usto repose. I seized the first opportunity of imparting to my wife thescheme which had occurred, relative to our guest; with which, as Iexpected, she readily concurred. In the morning, I mentioned it toMervyn. I dwelt upon the benefits that adhered to the medicalprofession, the power which it confers of lightening the distresses ofour neighbours, the dignity which popular opinion annexes to it, theavenue which it opens to the acquisition of competence, the freedom fromservile cares which attends it, and the means of intellectualgratification with which it supplies us.

  As I spoke, his eyes sparkled with joy. "Yes," said he, with vehemence,"I willingly embrace your offer. I accept this benefit, because I knowthat, if my pride should refuse it, I should prove myself less worthythan you think, and give you pain, instead of that pleasure which I ambound to confer. I would enter on the duties and studies of my newprofession immediately; but somewhat is due to Mr. Hadwin and hisdaughters. I cannot vanquish my inquietudes respecting them, but byreturning to Malverton and ascertaining their state with my own eyes.You know in what circumstances I parted with Wallace and Mr. Hadwin. Iam not sure that either of them ever reached home, or that they did notcarry the infection along with them. I now find myself sufficientlystrong to perform the journey, and purposed to have acquainted you, atthis interview, with my intentions. An hour's delay is superfluous, andI hope you will consent to my setting out immediately. Rural exerciseand air, for a week or fortnight, will greatly contribute to my health."

  No objection could be made to this scheme. His narrative had excited nocommon affection in our bosoms for the Hadwins. His visit could not onlyinform us of their true state, but would dispel that anxiety which theycould not but entertain respecting our guest. It was a topic of somesurprise that neither Wallace nor Hadwin had returned to the city, witha view to obtain some tidings of their friend. It was more easy tosuppose them to have been detained by some misfortune, than byinsensibility or indolence. In a few minutes Mervyn bade us adieu, andset out upon his journey, promising to acquaint us with the state ofaffairs as soon as possible after his arrival. We parted from him withreluctance, and found no consolation but in the prospect of his speedyreturn.

  During his absence, conversation naturally turned upon those topicswhich were suggested by the narrative and deportment of this youth.Different conclusions were formed by his two auditors. They had bothcontracted a deep interest in his welfare, and an ardent curiosity as tothose particulars which his unfinished story had left in obscurity. Thetrue character and actual condition of Welbeck were themes of muchspeculation. Whether he were dead or alive, near or distant from hisancient abode, was a point on which neither Mervyn, nor any of thosewith whom I had means of intercourse, afforded any information. Whetherhe had shared the common fate, and had been carried by the collectors ofthe dead from the highway or the hovel to the pits opened alike for therich and the poor, the known and the unknown; whether he had escaped toa foreign shore, or were destined to reappear upon this stage, werequestions involved in uncertainty.

  The disappearance of Watson would, at a different time, have excitedmuch inquiry and suspicion; but, as this had taken place on the eve ofthe epidemic, his kindred and friends would acquiesce, without scruple,in the belief that he had been involved in the general calamity, and wasto be numbered among the earliest victims. Those of his professionusually resided in the street where the infection began, and where itsravages had been most destructive; and this circumstance wouldcorroborate the conclusions of his friends.

  I did not perceive any immediate advantage to flow from imparting theknowledge I had lately gained to others. Shortly after Mervyn'sdeparture to Malverton, I was visited by Wortley. Inquiring for myguest, I told him that, having recovered his health, he had left myhouse. He repeated his invectives against the villany of Welbeck, hissuspicions of Mervyn, and his wishes for another interview with theyouth. Why had I suffered him to depart, and whither had he gone?

  "He has gone for a short time into the country. I expect him to returnin less than a week, when you will meet with him here as often as youplease, for I expect him to take up his abode in this house."

  Much astonishment and disapprobation were expressed by my friend. Ihinted that the lad had made disclosures to me, which justified myconfidence in his integrity. These proofs of his honesty were not of anature to be indiscriminately unfolded. Mervyn had authorized me tocommunicate so much of his story to Wortley, as would serve to vindicatehim from the charge of being Welbeck's co-partner in fraud; but this endwould only be counteracted by an imperfect tale, and the full recital,though it might exculpate Mervyn, might produce inconveniences by whichthis advantage would be outweighed.

  Wortley, as might be naturally expected, was by no means satisfied withthis statement. He suspected that Mervyn was a wily impostor; that hehad been trained in the arts of fraud, under an accomplished teacher;that the tale which he had told to me was a tissue of ingenious andplausible lies; that the mere assertions, however plausible and solemn,of one like him, whose conduct had incurred such strong suspicions, wereunworthy of the least credit.

  "It cannot be denied," continued my friend, "that he lived with Welbeckat the time of his elopement; that they disappeared together; that theyentered a boat, at Pine Street wharf, at midnight; that this boat wasdiscovered by the owner in the possession of a fisherman at Redbank, whoaffirmed that he had found it stranded near his door, the day succeedingthat on which they disappeared. Of all this I can supply you withincontestable proof. If, after this proof, you can give credit to hisstory, I shall think you made of very perverse and credulous materials."

  "The proof you mention," said I, "will only enhance his credibility. Allthe facts which you have stated have been admitted by him. Theyconstitute an essential portion of his narrative."

  "What then is the inference? Are not these evidences of a compactbetween them? Has he not acknowledged this compact in confessing that heknew Welbeck was my debtor; that he was apprized of his flight, but that(what matchless effrontery!) he had promised secrecy, and would, by nomeans, betray him? You say he means to return; but of that I doubt. Youwill never see his face more. He is too wise to thrust himself againinto the noose; but I do not utterly despair of lighting upon Welbeck.Old Thetford, Jamieson, and I, have sworn to hunt him through the world.I have strong hopes that he has not strayed far. Some intelligence haslately been received, which has enabled us to place our hounds upon hisscent. He may double and skulk; but, if he does not fall into our toilsat last, he will have the agility and cunning, as well as the malignity,of devils."

  The vengeful disposition thus betrayed by Wortley was not withoutexcuse. The vigour of his days had been spent in acquiring a slendercapital; his diligence and honesty had succeeded, and he had latelythought his situation such as to justify marriage with an excellentwoman, to whom he had for years been betrothed, but from whom hispoverty had hitherto compelled him to live separate. Scarcely had thisalliance taken place, and the full career of nuptial enjoyments begun,when his ill fate exposed him to the frauds of Welbeck, and brought him,in one evil hour, to the brink of insolvency.

  Jamieson and Thetford, however, were rich, and I had not till now beeninformed that they had reasons for pursuing Welbeck with peculiaranimosity. The latter was the uncle of him whose fate had been relatedby Mervyn, and was one of those who employed money, not as the medium oftraffic, but as in itself a commodity. He had neither wines nor cloths,to transmute into silver. He thought it a tedious process to exchangeto-day one hundred dollars for a cask or bale, and to-morrow exchangethe bale or cask for one hund
red _and ten_ dollars. It was better togive the hundred for a piece of paper, which, carried forthwith to themoney-changers, he could procure a hundred twenty-three andthree-fourths. In short, this man's coffers were supplied by the despairof honest men and the stratagems of rogues. I did not immediatelysuspect how this man's prudence and indefatigable attention to his owninterest should allow him to become the dupe of Welbeck.

  "What," said I, "is old Thetford's claim upon Welbeck?"

  "It is a claim," he replied, "that, if it ever be made good, will doomWelbeck to imprisonment and wholesome labour for life."

  "How? Surely it is nothing more than debt."

  "Have you not heard? But that is no wonder. Happily you are a strangerto mercantile anxieties and revolutions. Your fortune does not rest on abasis which an untoward blast may sweep away, or four strokes of a penmay demolish. That hoary dealer in suspicions was persuaded to put hishand to three notes for eight hundred dollars each. The _eight_ was thendexterously prolonged to eigh_teen_; they were duly deposited in timeand place, and the next day Welbeck was credited for fifty-three hundredand seventy-three, which, an hour after, were _told out_ to hismessenger. Hard to say whether the old man's grief, shame, or rage, beuppermost. He disdains all comfort but revenge, and that he will procureat any price. Jamieson, who deals in the same _stuff_ with Thetford, wasoutwitted in the same manner, to the same amount, and on the same day.

  "This Welbeck must have powers above the common rate of mortals. Growngray in studying the follies and the stratagems of men, these veteranswere overreached. No one pities them. 'Twere well if his artifices hadbeen limited to such, and he had spared the honest and the poor. It isfor his injuries to men who have earned their scanty subsistence withoutforfeiting their probity, that I hate him, and shall exult to see himsuffer all the rigours of the law." Here Wortley's engagements compelledhim to take his leave.