 what became of them afterwards, the swindler was one of the first of those who were transported to Botany Bay, the security died of poverty in a prison, and the bailiff, attaching himself to an infamous prostitute—who first ruined, and then betrayed him—at length followed his honourable principal.
After many sincere acknowledgments to the magistrate—with whom they stayed all night—for his uncommon attention and politeness, our hero and the attorney re-embarked, after agreeing with the skipper to set them ashore at Ostend, which would sooner bring them to the relief of Madame Combrie's suspense.
On the road, Charles let the attorney into his intention, as to the report he should make of this business to the lady; at which information, whatever

it might be, he testified much surprise, and indeed began to think the young gentleman was turned fool; but, being convinced to the contrary, by Charles's following the discovery with a reward, he, from that moment, certainly had a very great regard for our hero:—for he told him so.
They found Madame Combrie in a much weaker state than she appeared to be in when they parted from her. She listened however to the tale of their success with more unconcern than our hero expected, which—for the reader knows he was determined now to impose upon people—he explained to be this.
That they had overtaken the fugitives, as we have mentioned, and that being in England, where it was impossible to obtain any legal redress—for the matter did not amount to a robbery, they having received the money by her own order—he had been under the unpleasant necessity of coming to a composition, and of receiving three thousand pounds, instead of almost double that sum.
'Thank God you have recovered it, madam,' added Charles, 'and let this narrow escape warn you in future how you trust to strangers.'

He then displayed documents to the amount of

two thousand eight hundred and fifty pounds; the rest, he said, having gone to defray different expences, and recompence that gentleman—meaning the Flemish attorney—for the extraordinary pains and attention he had shewn in the whole affair; finishing with a most florid eulogium on the generosity and disinterestedness of this benevolent lawyer, who had—still like his brethren in other countries—eaten, drank, and slept well, said yes and no, and rather puzzled matters than explained them.
Our honest attorney being gone, Madame Combrie made a very long and very grateful speech, by way of thanks, to our hero. Towards the conclusion she uttered these words.

'Seeing all this is the case, that your own situation is so straitened
