from whence it proceeded, and saw stretched on a mattress, a person
who appeared on the point of expiring. His visage was pale and
emaciated, his countenance haggard and ghastly, his eyes
inexpressive and glazy. He held out his withered hand, and feebly
beckoned to Alonzo, who immediately approached him....]

[[In _Alonzo and Melissa_, this episode takes place in an English
prison hospital. Beauman has had a leg amputated.]]

"You behold me, Theodore," said he, "on the verge of eternity. I have
but a short time to continue in this world." He evidently appeared to
have suffered much from the remembrance of his ungenerous conduct
towards Theodore.

[_A&M_:

"... you behold me on the verge of eternity; I have but a short time
to continue in this world."]

"I have caused much unhappiness between you and your Alida," said
Bonville, "to which you will scarcely think it possible that I was
designedly accessory." He then confessed to Theodore that he had
intercepted his letters, and begged his forgiveness. "I could say much
more on the subject would my strength admit," said he, "but it is
needless." Here Bonville ceased. Theodore found he wanted rest; medical
aid had been applied, but without effect. Theodore then left him,
promising to call again next morning.

[_A&M_:

"You are unhappy, Alonzo, [said Beauman] in the death of your
Melissa, to which it is possible I have been undesignedly accessory.
I could say much on the subject, would my strength permit; but it is
needless--she is gone, and I must soon go also...."

Here Beauman ceased. Alonzo found he wanted rest: he enquired
whether he was in want of any thing to render him more comfortable;
Beauman replied he was not; "for the comforts of this life [said he]
I have no relish; medical aid is applied, but without effect."
Alonzo then left him, promising to call again in the morning.]

He was startled at the confession of Bonville; he felt at first
indignant, and meditated what course to pursue. After due reflection,
he at length made the decision.

His devotions to Alida he did not wonder at. The pride of parental
attachment and nature had graced her with every charm and
accomplishment. He at length determined to cast a veil of pity over the
actions of Bonville, and not to upbraid him, but to treat his past
conduct with silent contempt, and endeavour as far as possible, to bury
the remembrance of his errors in o