“It can’t be helped, father; we must hope for better times.”
“Yes, we must trust in God, Newton. I sold my watch yesterday, and that will feed us for some time. A sailor came into the shop, and asked if I had any watches to sell: I told him that I only repaired them at present; but that when my improvement in the duplex—” Here Nicholas forgot the thread of his narrative, and was commencing a calculation upon his intended improvement, when Newton interrupted him.
“Well, sir, what did the sailor reply?”
“Oh! I forgot; I told him that I had a watch of my own, that I would part with it, which went very well; and that it would be cheaper to him than a new one; that it cost fifteen pounds; but I was in want of money, and would take five pounds for it. He saw how sorry I was to part with it—and so I was.” Here Nicholas thought of his watch, and forgot his story.
“Well, my dear father,” said Newton, “what did he give you for it?”
“Oh!—why, he was a kind good creature, and said that he was not the man to take advantage of a poor devil in distress, and that I should have the full value of it. He put the watch in his fob and counted out fifteen pounds on the counter. I wanted to return part: but he walked out of the shop, and before I could get round the counter he had got round the corner of the street.”
“’Twas a God-send, my dear father,” replied Newton, “for I have not a halfpenny. Do you know what became of my chest, that I left on board of the sloop?”
“Dear me! now I think of it, it came here by the waggon. I put it up stairs. I wondered why you sent it.”
Newton having appeased his hunger, went up stairs, and found all his wearing apparel had been forwarded by Mr Hilton, who supposed him dead, and that he was enabled to make a more respectable appearance than what the privateer’s people had hitherto permitted him. In a few days he felt quite recovered from his fatigue, and sallied forth in search of employment. On the day after his arrival at Liverpool he had written to the asylum, to inquire the fate of his mother. The answer which he received was, that Mrs Forster had recovered, and remained many months in the establishment as nurse; but that ten days back she had quitted the asylum, and that her address was not known.
Newton, who had no means of prosecuting further inquiry, was obliged to be satisfied with the intelligence that his mother was alive and well. He communicated the information to Nicholas, who observed—