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.

THE SECRET WITNESS.

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lighted from the side and not from the front of the house.
A lamp borne by a passenger, or the attendants of a
hearse, could not be discovered in this situation. Besides, in the latter case it would be accompanied by the
sound of the vehicle, and, probably, by weeping and
exclamations of despair. His employment, as the guardian of property, naturally suggested to him the idea
of robbery. He started from his bed, and went to the
window.
His house stood at the distance of about fifty paces
from that of Monrose. There was annexed to the latter.
a small garden or yard, bounded by a high wooden
fence. Baxter's window overlooked this space. Before
he reached the window, the relative situation of the two
habitations occurred to him. A conjecture was instantly
formed that the glimmering proceeded from this quarter.
His eye, therefore, was immediately fixed upon Monrose's back-door. It caught a glimpse of a human figure
passing into the house through this door. The person
had a candle in his hand. This appeared by the light
which streamed after' him, and which was perceived,
though faintly, through a small window of the dwelling,
after the back-door was closed.
The person disappeared too quickly to allow him to
say whether it was male or female. This scrutiny confirmed rather than weakened the apprehensions that first
occurred. He reflected on the desolate and helpless
condition of this family. The father might be sick; and
what opposition could be made by the daughter to the
stratagems or violence of midnight plunderers? This
was an evil which it was his duty, in an extraordinary
sense, to obviate. It is true, the hour of watching was
past, and this was not the district assigned to him;
but Baxter was, on the whole, of a generous and intrepid
spirit. In the present case, therefore, he did not hesitate long in forming his resolution. He seized a hanger
that hung at his bedside, and which had hewn many a
Hungarian and French hussar to pieces. With this he
descended to the street. He cautiously approached Monrose's house. He listened at the door, but heard nothing.
The lower apartment, as he discovered through the key6