himself, first of his moustache, then of
his black wig, and then of his overall.
Producing a blue and white silk tie, he fastened
it in an artistic manner round his neck, and
stood forth a fair-looking specimen of an
English country gentleman of sporting
tendencies.

"You see how completely I trust you," he
said;  "how thoroughly I put myself in your
power, if you choose to betray me. But that
you will never do. Little as I have seen of
you, I can read you too well to have any
doubt on that score. You would be the last
man in the world to betray your father."

"You judge me rightly," I replied with
fervour. "But tell me how it is that you are
here at all. I—I thought that—"

"You thought that I was transported for
life, and that you would never be troubled
with my company, eh? I escaped, Ralph, I
escaped; but the devil of it is that I have
got one of those cursed detectives at my
heels. I spent six months in France before
coming to England, where I contrived to live
like a gentleman without much trouble to
myself. And there I might yet have been,
had not some confounded fatality, which I
could not resist, led my steps to England,
where one of the first men I met on the quay
after landing was the very fellow that arrested
me twenty years ago. Whether or not he
really knew who I was, of course I can't
say; but he evidently suspected me, or he
would not have dogged me as he did.
However, I was one too many for him that time;
but I've reason to believe that he's on my
traces again; so I must e'en hide my head
for a week or two till the wind blows fair;
and with whom should I be so welcome as
with my own dear boy?"

"But you were innocent, father, were you
not?" I asked, anxiously. "You did not
commit the crime laid to your charge?"

"O engaging simplicity!" he answered,
with a low, sneering laugh. "Of course I
was innocent! At least I, for one, never
doubted the fact, and therefore you have no
reason to do so. But I am hungry," he
continued, "deuced hungry! I sent that old
housekeeper of yours out, above half an hour
ago, for some beefsteaks and brandy; but
neither of them have yet made their appearance,
and my glass is now empty. Ring for
the hag, Ralph,—ring for her. But, stay!
Before she comes, let me give you a little
instruction. Can you trust her with a secret?"

"Yes, thoroughly,—unhesitatingly."

"So be it, then; but, remember, sir, that
you—you will answer dearly for it, if she
betray me. Give her to understand, then,
that I am a near relative of yours, who,
being in danger of arrest for debt, is obliged
to hide himself for a short time; and lay
strict injunctions on her not to mention my
presence here to a soul. You understand.
You can put the case as you like."

When old Betty came in, she stared at my
father in amazement. She had left in the
room a dark, moustachioed, Spanish-looking
person; and now found in his place a jolly
English gentleman. She had no surprise left
to greet my sudden return. I told her in
a few words all that I deemed necessary.
My father added emphasis to the story.

"Look you, old lady," he said, drawing a
revolver from the inner folds of his vest.
"You see this? You have heard what your
master has said? Well, let me tell you,
once for all, that if you breathe to living soul
one syllable about me, as sure as there is a
sky above you, I'll send one of these bullets
into your brain! Mind! I have long ears;
and if you whisper my secret at midnight,
locked up in your own room, I shall still
hear it. Now begone! and send in those
beefsteaks and that brandy, instanter."

The old woman—whose terror prevented
her from uttering a word in reply—curtsied
tremblingly to the terrible stranger, and
fluttered out of the room. Supper was soon
afterwards produced, and my father invited
me to join him in the repast; but I felt no
inclination to do so.

As he sat there, eating and drinking with
much heartiness, like a man that had been
half-famished for some time, I could not take
my eyes off him; and so sat staring steadily
till he had finished.

Having lighted my meerschaum, and filled
himself a tumbler of neat brandy, he elevated
his feet on the chimney-piece; and, leaning
back in my easy chair, proceeded to take a
cool survey of me from head to foot. I
quailed beneath the steady gaze of those clear
cold eyes, in which I could detect no trace
of kindly feeling towards myself.

"You are disappointed with your father,
ain't you?" he asked. "You expected to
find him a sort of ideal personage,—a second
Eugene Aram, full of sham philosophy and
false sentiment; and, because he is not a
snivelling moralist, you are almost ready to
wish him away again. You are not out of
your spooneyhood yet, my boy. You will
learn after awhile that it is your men of
action—your men of bone and sinew, not
your dreamy theorists and mouldy book-
worms—that influence the world, and bend
circumstances to their will. Had you been
in my place, you would have been a convict
still, and a convict you would have died. My
motto has been, Trust no one but yourself;
and I advise you to adopt it."

"You forget sometimes to act up to it," I
said, "or else, why trust me with your
secret?"

"I did not trust even you unreservedly,"
he replied. "Not so. What would you gain
by betraying me? Nothing. What would
you lose by it? Much. Proof: Firstly, all
men would call you a wretch for betraying
your own father, and you would be looked
upon with universal abhorrence. Secondly,
all your respectable friends, your good