Next morning I arose betimes, and equipped myself without
delay. I had eight or ten miles to walk, so far from the
town being the residence of these people; and I forthwith
repaired to their dwelling. The persons whom I desired
to see were known to me only by name, and by their place
of abode. It was a mother and her three daughters to whom
I now carried the means not only of competence but riches;
means, which they, no doubt, had long ago despaired of regaining,
and which, among all possible messengers, one of
my age and guise would be the least suspected of being able
to restore.

I arrived, through intricate ways, at eleven o'clock, at the
house of Mrs. Maurice. It was a neat dwelling, in a very
fanciful and rustic style, in the bosom of a valley, which,
when decorated by the verdure and blossoms of the coming
season, must possess many charms. At present it was naked
and dreary.

As I approached it, through a long avenue, I observed
two female figures, walking arm-in-arm and slowly to and
fro, in the path in which I now was. These, said I, are
daughters of the family. Graceful, well-dressed, fashionable
girls they seem at this distance. May they be deserving
of the good tidings which I bring.—Seeing them turn
towards the house, I mended my pace, that I might over-take
them and request their introduction of me to their
mother.

As I more nearly approached, they again turned; and

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perceiving me, they stood as if in expectation of my message.
I went up to them.

A single glance, cast at each, made me suspect that they
were not sisters; but, somewhat to my disappointment, there
was nothing highly prepossessing in the countenance of
either. They were what is every day met with, though less
embellished by brilliant drapery and turban, in markets and
streets. An air, somewhat haughty, somewhat supercilious,
lessened still more their attractions. These defects, however,
were nothing to me.

I inquired, of her that seemed to be the elder of the two,
for Mrs. Maurice.

She is indisposed, was the cold reply.

That is unfortunate. Is it not possible to see her?

No—with still more gravity.

I was somewhat at a loss how to proceed. A pause ensued.
At length, the same lady resumed—What's your
business? You can leave your message with me.

With no body but her. If she be not very indisposed—

She is very indisposed, interrupted she peevishly. If
you cannot leave your message, you may take it back again,
for she must not be disturbed.

This was a singular reception. I was disconcerted and
silent. I knew not what to say. Perhaps, I at last observed,
some other time—

No, with increasing heat, no other time. She is more
likely to be worse than better. Come, Betsey, said she,
taking hold of her companion's arm; and, hieing into the
house, shut the door after her, and disappeared. I stood,
at the bottom of the steps, confounded at such strange and
unexpected treatment. I could not withdraw till my purpose
was accomplished. After a moment's pause, I stepped
to the door, and pulled the bell. A negro came, of a very
unpropitious aspect, and opening the door, looked at me in
silence. To my question, was Mrs. Maurice to be seen?
he made some answer, in a jargon which I could not understand;
but his words were immediately followed by an
unseen person within the house—Mrs. Maurice can't be
seen by any body. Come in, Cato, and shut the door.
This injunction was obeyed by Cato without ceremony.

[figure description] Page 146.[end figure description]

Here was a dilemma! I came with ten thousand pounds
in my hands, to bestow freely on these people, and such was
the treatment I received. I must adopt said I, a new mode.

I lifted the latch, without a second warning, and, Cato
having disappeared, went into a room, the door of which
chanced to be open, on my right hand. I found within the
two females whom I had accosted in the portico. I now
addressed myself to the younger—This intrusion, when I
have explained the reason of it, will, I hope, be forgiven.
I come, madam—

Yes, interrupted the other, with a countenance suffused by
indignation, I know very well whom you come from, and
what it is that prompts this insolence, but your employer
shall see that we have not sunk so low as he imagines.
Cato! Bob! I say.

My employer, madam! I see you labor under some
great mistake. I have no employer. I come from a great
distance. I come to bring intelligence of the utmost importance
to your family. I come to benefit and not to injure
you.

By this time, Bob and Cato, two sturdy blacks, entered
the room. Turn this person, said the imperious lady, regardless
of my explanations, out of the house. Don't you
hear me? she continued, observing that they looked one
upon the other and hesitated.

Surely, madam, said I, you are precipitate. You are
treating like an enemy one who will prove himself your
mother's best friend.

Will you leave the house? she exclaimed, quite beside
herself with anger. Villains! why don't you do as I bid
you?

The blacks looked upon each other, as if waiting for an
example. Their habitual deference for every thing white,
no doubt, held their hands from what they regarded as a
profanation. At last Bob said, in a whining, beseeching
tone—Why, misse, massa buckra wanna go for doo, dan he
winna go fo' wee.

The lady now burst into tears of rage. She held out
her hand, menacingly. Will you leave the house?

Not willingly, said I, in a mild tone. I came too far to
return with the business that brought me unperformed. I

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am persuaded, madam, you mistake my character and my
views. I have a message to deliver your mother which
deeply concerns her and your happiness, if you are her
daughter. I merely wished to see her, and leave with her
a piece of important news; news in which her fortune is
deeply interested.

These words had a wonderful effect upon the young lady.
Her anger was checked. Good God! she exclaimed, are
you Watson?

No; I am only Watson's representative, and come to do
all that Watson could do if he were present.

She was now importunate to know my business.

My business lies with Mrs. Maurice. Advertisements,
which I have seen, direct me to her, and to this house, and
to her only shall I deliver my message.

Perhaps, said she, with a face of apology, I have mistaken
you. Mrs. Maurice is my mother. She is really indisposed,
but I can stand in her place on this occasion.

You cannot represent her in this instance. If I cannot
have access to her now, I must go; and shall return when
you are willing to grant it.

Nay, replied she, she is not, perhaps, so very sick but
that—I will go, and see if she will admit you.—So saying,
she left me for three minutes; and returning said, her
mother wished to see me.

I followed up stairs, at her request; and, entering an illfurnished
chamber, found, seated in an arm chair, a lady
seemingly in years, pale and visibly infirm. The lines of
her countenance were far from laying claim to my reverence.
It was too much like the daughter's.

She looked at me, at my entrance, with great eagerness,
and said, in a sharp tone, pray, friend, what is it you want
with me? Make haste; tell your story, and begone.

My story is a short one, and easily told. Amos Watson
was your agent in Jamaica. He sold an estate belonging
to you, and received the money.

He did, said she, attempting ineffectually to rise from her
seat, and her eyes beaming with a significance that shocked
me—He did, the villain, and purloined the money, to the
ruin of me and my daughters. But if there be justice on
earth it will overtake him. I trust, I shall have the

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pleasure one day—I hope to hear he's hanged. Well, but go
on, friend. He did sell it, I tell you.

He sold it for ten thousand pounds, I resumed, and invested
this sum in bills of exchange. Watson is dead.
These bills came into my hands. I was lately informed, by
the public papers, who were the real owners, and have
come from Philadelphia with no other view than to restore
them to you. There they are, continued I, placing them
in her lap, entire and untouched.

She seized the papers, and looked at me and at her
daughter, by turns, with an air of one suddenly bewildered.
She seemed speechless, and growing suddenly more ghastly
pale, leaned her head back upon the chair. The daughter
screamed, and hastened to support the languid parent, who
difficulty articulated—O! I am sick; sick to death. Put
me on the bed.

I was astonished and affrighted at this scene. Some of
the domestics, of both colors, entered, and gazed at me
with surprise. Involuntarily I withdrew, and returned to
the room below, into which I had first entered, and which
I now found deserted.

I was for some time at a loss to guess at the cause of
these appearances. At length it occurred to me, that joy
was the source of the sickness that had seized Mrs. Maurice.
The abrupt recovery of what had probably been
deemed irretrievable, would naturally produce this effect
upon a mind of a certain texture.

I was deliberating, whether to stay or go, when the
daughter entered the room, and, after expressing some
surprise at seeing me, whom she supposed to have retired,
told me that her mother wished to see me again before
my departure. In this request there was no kindness.
All was cold, supercilious, and sullen. I obeyed the summons
without speaking.

I found Mrs. Maurice seated in her arm chair, much in
her former guise. Without desiring me to be seated, or
relaxing aught in her asperity of looks and tones—Pray,
friend, how did you come by these papers?

I assure you, madam, they were honestly come by, answered
I, sedately and with half a smile; but, if the whole
is there that was missing, the mode and time in which they

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came to me is matter of concern only to myself. Is there
any deficiency?

I am not sure. I don't know much of these matters.
There may be less. I dare say there is. I shall know that
soon. I expect a friend of mine every minute who will
look them over. I don't doubt you can give a good account
of yourself.

I doubt not but I can—to those who have a right to demand
it. In this case, curiosity must be very urgent indeed,
before I shall consent to gratify it.

You must know this is a suspicious case. Watson, to
be sure, embezzled the money; to be sure, you are his
accomplice.

Certainly, said I, my conduct, on this occasion, proves
that. What I have brought to you, of my own accord;
what I have restored to you, fully and unconditionally, it is
plain Watson embezzled, and that I was aiding in the fraud.
To restore what was never stolen always betrays the thief.
To give what might be kept without suspicion, is, without
doubt, arrant knavery.—To be serious, madam, in coming
thus far, for this purpose, I have done enough; and must
now bid you farewell.

Nay, don't go yet. I have something more to say to you.
My friend, I'm sure, will be here presently. There he is;
noticing a peal upon the bell. Polly, go down, and see if that's
Mr. Somers. If it is, bring him up. The daughter went.

I walked to the window absorbed in my own reflections.
I was disappointed and dejected. The scene before me
was the unpleasing reverse of all that my fancy, while
coming hither, had foreboded. I expected to find virtuous
indigence and sorrow lifted, by my means, to affluence and
exultation. I expected to witness the tears of gratitude and
the caresses of affection. What had I found? Nothing
but sordidness, stupidity, and illiberal suspicion.

The daughter stayed much longer than the mother's patience
could endure. She knocked against the floor with
her heel. A servant came up.—Where's Polly, you slut?
It was not you, hussey, that I wanted. It was her.

She is talking in the parlor with a gentleman.

Mr. Somers, I suppose; hey! fool! Run with my compliments
to him, wench. Tell him, please walk up.

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It is not Mr. Somers, ma'am.

No! Who then, saucebox? What gentleman can have
any thing to do with Polly?

I don't know ma'am.

Who said you did, impertinence? Run, and tell her I
want her this instant.

The summons was not delivered, or Polly did not think
proper to obey it. Full ten minutes of thoughtful silence
on my part, and of muttered vexation and impatience on
that of the old lady, elapsed before Polly's entrance. As
soon as she appeared, the mother began to complain bitterly
of her inattention and neglect; but Polly, taking no
notice of her, addressed herself to me, and told me, that a
gentleman below wished to see me. I hastened down, and
found a stranger, of a plain appearance, in the parlor. His
aspect was liberal and ingenuous; and I quickly collected
from his discourse, that this was the brother in law of Watson,
and the companion of his last voyage.