I remembered his words: 'He worked to gain a living, by administering as little as he could to the false wants and vices of men; and at the same time to pursue a plan, on which he was intent'--A plan of importance no doubt; perhaps of public utility. It was sometime before I could relate my errand. I hesitated, and struggled, and stammered, but at last said--'Mr. Turl, I yesterday thought myself surrounded by friends: I now come to you; and should you refuse to hear me, I have not a friend in the world to whom I can relate the injustice that has been done me.'---Pray speak, Mr. Trevor. If I can do you any service, I most sincerely assure you it will add more to my own happiness, than you will easily imagine.' These words, though few, were uttered with an uncommon glow of benevolence. My heart was full, my passions, like the arrow in the bent bow, were with force restrained, and I snatched his hand and pressed it with great fervour. 'May you never want a friend, Mr. Turl,' said I; 'and may you never find a false one! Your opinions differ from mine, but I see and feel you are a man of virtue.' I paused a moment, and continued. 'That you are a man of principle is fortunate, because, in what I have to relate, the name and character of a lady is concerned: the sister of a man whom, a very few years since, I loved and revered.'--'You may state the facts without mentioning her name.'--'I have no doubt of your honour.'--'I have no curiosity, and it will be the safest and wisest way.' I then gave him a succinct history of the whole transactions, between me, Enoch, the bishop and the earl; for I was almost as angry with the first as with the other two. He heard me to the end, and asked such questions for elucidation as he thought necessary.