Tell them he has
saved me and mine from the deepest want; and now he is sent to prison
because he cannot pay the cruel doctor who attended the poor dead
general."
"What! is his friend dead?" ejaculated Mary, unable to restrain the
tears which now streamed over her face.
"Yes," replied Mrs. Robson; "poor old gentleman! he is dead, sure
enough; and, Heaven knows, many have been the dreary hours the dear
young man has watched by his pillow! He died in that room."
Miss Beaufort's swimming eyes would not allow her to discern objects
through the open door of that apartment within which the heart of
Thaddeus had undergone such variety of misery. Forming an
irresistible wish to know whether the deceased were any relation of
Constantine, she paused a moment to compose the agitation which might
betray her, and then asked the question.
"I thought, ma'am," replied Mrs. Robson, "you said you knew his
friends?"
"Only his English ones," returned Mary, a little confused at the
suspicion this answer implied; "I imagined that this old gentleman
might have been his father or an uncle, or----"
"O no," interrupted Mrs. Robson, sorrowfully; "he has neither father,
mother nor uncle in the wide world. He once told me they were all
dead, and that he saw them die. Alas! sweet soul! What a power of
griefs he must have seen in his young life! But Heaven will favor his
at last; for though he is in misfortune himself, he has been a
blessing to the widow and the orphan!"
"Do you know the amount of his debts?" asked Miss Beaufort.
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