act, I beseech you. You know not in what evils you may involve the
innocent. Mervyn I know to be blameless; but Welbeck is indeed a
villain. The latter I shall not be sorry to see brought to justice; but
the former, instead of meriting punishment, is entitled to rewards."

"So you believe, on the mere assertion of the boy, perhaps, his
plausible lies might produce the same effect upon me; but I must stay
till he thinks proper to exert his skill. The suspicions to which he is
exposed will not easily be obviated; but, if he has any thing to say in
his defence, his judicial examination will afford him the suitable
opportunity. Why are you so much afraid to subject his innocence to this
test? It was not till you heard his tale that your own suspicions were
removed. Allow me the same privilege of unbelief.

"But you do me wrong, in deeming me the cause of his apprehension. It is
Jamieson and Thetford's work, and they have not proceeded on shadowy
surmises and the impulses of mere revenge. Facts have come to light of
which you are wholly unaware, and which, when known to you, will conquer
even your incredulity as to the guilt of Mervyn."

"Facts? Let me know them, I beseech you. If Mervyn has deceived me,
there is an end to my confidence in human nature. All limits to
dissimulation, and all distinctness between vice and virtue, will be
effaced. No man's word, nor force of collateral evidence, shall weigh
with me a hair."

"It was time," replied my friend, "that your confidence in smooth
features and fluent accents should have ended long ago. Till I gained
from my present profession some knowledge of the world, a knowledge
which was not gained in a moment, and has not cost a trifle, I was
equally wise in my own conceit; and, in order to decide upon the truth
of any one's pretensions, needed only a clear view of his face and a
distinct hearing of his words. My folly, in that respect, was only to be
cured, however, by my own experience, and I suppose your credulity will
yield to no other remedy. These are the facts:--

"Mrs. Wentworth, the proprietor of the house in which Welbeck lived, has
furnished some intelligence respecting Mervyn, whose truth cannot be
doubted, and which furnishes the strongest evidence of a conspiracy
between this lad and his employer. It seems that, some years since, a
nephew of this lady left his father's family clandestinely, and has not
been heard of since. This nephew was intended to inherit her