ur attention, was the testimony of
Williams and of Mrs. Wentworth. That which was mysterious and
inscrutable to Wortley and the friends of Watson was luminous to us. The
coincidence between the vague hints laboriously collected by these
inquirers, and the narrative of Mervyn, afforded the most cogent
attestation of the truth of that narrative.

Watson had vanished from all eyes, but the spot where rested his remains
was known to us. The girdle spoken of by Williams would not be suspected
to exist by his murderer. It was unmolested, and was doubtless buried
with him. That which was so earnestly sought, and which constituted the
subsistence of the Maurices, would probably be found adhering to his
body. What conduct was incumbent upon me who possessed this knowledge?

It was just to restore these bills to their true owner; but how could
this be done without hazardous processes and tedious disclosures? To
whom ought these disclosures to be made? By what authority or agency
could these half-decayed limbs be dug up, and the lost treasure be taken
from amidst the horrible corruption in which it was immersed?

This ought not to be the act of a single individual. This act would
entangle him in a maze of perils and suspicions, of concealments and
evasions, from which he could not hope to escape with his reputation
inviolate. The proper method was through the agency of the law. It is to
this that Mervyn must submit his conduct. The story which he told to me
he must tell to the world. Suspicions have fixed themselves upon him,
which allow him not the privilege of silence and obscurity. While he
continued unknown and unthought of, the publication of his story would
only give unnecessary birth to dangers; but now dangers are incurred
which it may probably contribute to lessen, if not to remove.

Meanwhile the return of Mervyn to the city was anxiously expected. Day
after day passed, and no tidings were received. I had business of an
urgent nature which required my presence in Jersey, but which, in the
daily expectation of the return of my young friend, I postponed a week
longer than rigid discretion allowed. At length I was obliged to comply
with the exigence, and left the city, but made such arrangements that I
should be apprized by my wife of Mervyn's return with all practicable
expedition.

These arrangements were superfluous, for my business was despatched, and
my absence at an end, before the youth had given us any tokens of