between Pleyel and myself; on the passion that I had contracted,
and which was merely smothered for a time; and on the esteem which was
mutual, you will not, perhaps, be surprized that the renovation of our
intercourse should give birth to that union which at present subsists.
When the period had elapsed necessary to weaken the remembrance of
Theresa, to whom he had been bound by ties more of honor than of love,
he tendered his affections to me. I need not add that the tender was
eagerly accepted.

Perhaps you are somewhat interested in the fate of Carwin. He saw,
when too late, the danger of imposture. So much affected was he by the
catastrophe to which he was a witness, that he laid aside all regard to
his own safety. He sought my uncle, and confided to him the tale which
he had just related to me. He found a more impartial and indulgent
auditor in Mr. Cambridge, who imputed to maniacal illusion the conduct
of Wieland, though he conceived the previous and unseen agency of
Carwin, to have indirectly but powerfully predisposed to this deplorable
perversion of mind.

It was easy for Carwin to elude the persecutions of Ludloe. It was
merely requisite to hide himself in a remote district of Pennsylvania.
This, when he parted from us, he determined to do. He is now probably
engaged in the harmless pursuits of agriculture, and may come to think,
without insupportable remorse, on the evils to which his fatal talents
have given birth. The innocence and usefulness of his future life may,
in some degree, atone for the miseries so rashly or so thoughtlessly
inflicted.

More urgent considerations hindered me from mentioning, in the course of
my former mournful recital, any particulars respecting the unfortunate
father of Louisa Conway. That man surely was reserved to be a monument
of capricious fortune. His southern journies being finished, he returned
to Philadelphia. Before he reached the city he left the highway, and
alighted at my brother's door. Contrary to his expectation, no one came
forth to welcome him, or hail his approach. He attempted to enter the
house, but bolted doors, barred windows, and a silence broken only by
unanswered calls, shewed him that the mansion was deserted.

He proceeded thence to my habitation, which he found, in like manner,
gloomy and tenantless. His surprize may be easily conceived. The rustics
who occupied the hut told him an imperfect and incredible tale. He
hasted to the city, and extorted