with a sort of resolute despair. " No—no—
no!—death, death!—annihilation—and forgetfulness!
Why did you come in to interrupt
me, girl?" he added, roughly seizing her
by the arm.

"Because—I know not—something—Oh!
it was the good God, surely, who impelled
me," she cried, bursting into tears. "Oh,
papa! papa! Do not! do not! Think of
us all—your girls—Cle. and I. You used to
love us, papa——"

"Do you know what has happened?"

"Yes—no. I believe you have lost a great
deal of money at cards."

"Cards was it? Let it be. It may as
well be cards. Yes, child, I have lost a large
sum of money at cards—and more," he added,
setting his teeth, and speaking in a sort of hissing
whisper—"more than I can exactly pay."

"Oh, papa! don't say so. Consider—only
look round you. Surely you have the means to
pay! We can sell—we can make any sacrifice
—any sacrifice on earth to pay. Only
think, there are all these things. There is
all the plate—my mother's diamonds—there
is—"

He let her run on a little while; then, in a
cool, almost mocking tone, he said—

"I have given a bill of sale for all that, long
ago."

"A bill of sale! What is a bill of sale?"

"Well! It's a thing which passes one man's
property into the hands of another man, to
make what he can of it. And the poor dupe
who took my bill of sale, took it for twice as
much as the things would really bring;
but the rascal thought he had no alternative.
I was a fool to give it him, for the dice
were loaded. If it were the last word I
had to speak, I would say it—the dice were
loaded——"

"But—but——"

"What! you want to hear all about It, do
you? Well, it's a bad business. I thought
I had a right to a run of luck—after all my
ill fortune. I calculated the chances; they
were overwhelmingly in my favour. I staked
my zero against another man's thousands
never mind how many—and I lost, and have
only my zero to offer in payment. That is to
say, my note of hand; and how much do you
think that is worth, my girl? I would
rather—I would rather," he added, passionately,
changing his tone of levity for one of
the bitterest despair—  "I would rather be
dead- dead, dead—than——"

"Oh, papa! papa! say it not! say it not!
It is real. Such things are not mere words.
They are real, father, father!- Die! You must
not die."

"I have little cause to wish to die," he
said, relapsing again into a sort of gloomy
carelessness; "so that I could see any other
way out of it. To be sure, one might run
—one might play the part of a cowardly,
dishonourable rascal, and run for it, Ella, if
you like that better. Between suicide and
the escapade of a defaulter, there is not much
to choose; but I will do as you like."

"I would not willingly choose your dishonour,"
said she, shuddering; "but between
the dishonour of the one course or the other,
there seems little to choose. Only—only—if
you lived, in time you might be able to pay.
Men have lived, and have laboured, until they
have paid all."

"Live and labour—very like me! Live, and
labour, until I have paid all—extremely like
me! Lower a mountain by spadefulls."

"Even spadefulls," she said; her understanding
and her heart seemed both suddenly
ripened in this fearful extremity—
"even spadefulls at a time have done something
—have lowered mountains, where there
was determination and perseverance."

"But suppose there was neither. Suppose
there was neither courage, nor goodness, nor
determination, nor perseverance. Suppose
the man had lived a life of indolent self-indulgence,
until, squeeze him as you would,
there was not one drop of virtue left in him.
Crush him, as fate is crushing me at this
moment; and I tell you, you will get nothing
out of him. Nothing—nothing. He is more
worthless than the most degraded beast.
Better to die as a beast, and go where the
beasts go."

She turned ghastly pale at this terrible
speech—but, "No," she faltered out-- "no—
no!"

"You will not have me die, then?" he said,
pursuing the same heartless tone; but it was
forced, if that were any excuse for him.
"Then you prefer the other scheme? I
thought," he went on, "to have supped with
Pluto to-night; but you prefer that it should
be on board an American steamer."

"I do," she gasped, rather than uttered.

"You do—you are sure you do?" said he,
suddenly assuming a tone of greater seriousness.
"You wish, Ella, to preserve this
worthlesss life? Have you considered at what
expense?"

"Expense! How! Who could think of
that?" she answered.

"Oh! not the expense of money, child—
at the expense of the little thing called
'honour.' Listen to me, Ella,"—and again he
took her arm, and turned her poor distracted
face to his. "You see I am ready to die—
at least, was ready to die—but I have no wish
to die. Worthless as this wretched life of
mine is, it has its excitements, and its enjoyments,
to me. When I made up my mind to
end it, I assure you, child, I did the one only
generous thing I ever was guilty of in my
life; for I did it for you girls' sakes, as much
or more than for my own. Suicide, some
think a wicked thing—I don't. How I got
my life, I don't know; the power of getting
rid of it is mine, and I hold myself at liberty
to make use of it or not, at my own good
pleasure. As for my ever living to pay my
debt, it's folly to talk of it. I have not, and