The novels of Charles Brockden Brown, consisting of Wieland;or, The transformation. Arthur Mervyn; or, Memoirs of the year 1793. Edgar Huntly; or, Memoirs of a sleep-walker. Jane Talbot. Ormond; or, The secret witness. Clara Howard; or, The enthusiasm of love. With a memoir of the author.

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ORMOND; OR,

an interview. I may be disappointed in this hope, and
therefore write you this.
"I do not come to upbraid you, to call you to a legal
or any other account for your actions. I presume not
to weigh your merits. The God of equity be your judge.
May he be as merciful, in the hour of retribution, as I
am disposed to be!
"It is only to inform you that my father is on the
point of perishing with want. You know who it was
that reduced him to this condition. I persuade myself
I shall not appeal to your justice in vain. Learn of
this justice to afford him instant succour.
"You know who it was that took you in, a houseless
wanderer, protected and fostered your youth, and shared
with you his confidence and his fortune. It is he who
now, blind and indigent, is threatened, by an inexorable
landlord, to be thrust into the street, and who is, at this
moment, without fire and without bread.
"He once did you some little service; now he looks
to be compensated. All the retribution he asks is to be
saved from perishing. Surely you will not spurn at his
claims. Thomas Craig has done nothing that shows him
deaf to the cries of distress. He would relieve a dog
from such suffering.
"Forget that you have known my father in any character but that of a suppliant for bread. I promise you
that, on this condition, I also will forget it. If you are so
far just, you have nothing to fear. Your property and
reputation shall both be safe. My father knows not of
your being in this city. His enmities are extinct, and,
if you comply with this request, he shall know you only
as a benefactor. C. DUDLEY."
Having finished and folded this epistle, she once more
returned to the tavern. A waiter informed her that
Craig had lately been in, and was now gone out to spend
the evening. "Whither had he gone?" she asked.
"How was he to know where gentlemen eat their suppers? Did she take him for a witch? What, in God's
name, did she want with him at that hour? Could she
not wait, at least, till he had done his supper? He