friends, your moral friends, would shrink
from any connection with a felon's son, and
would shun you as if you were plague-
stricken. Thirdly, you are of such a touchy
disposition yourself, that you would go moaning
about the world for the rest of your days
lamenting the deed you had done. Bah! I
never let my adversary see my trump cards
till the game obliges me to play them. Fill
this glass again." He lapsed into contemptuous
silence, as if I were unworthy of further
notice.

The hours sped on, till midnight was
long past; and still he stirred not, spoke
not. He smoked and drank furiously;
like a man who had long been debarred
from similar enjoyments; but without any
apparent effect on himself. The candles
went out, the fire burnt low. Still he
sat on one side, glaring steadily at the
glimmering ashes, and never moving, except
to lift his glass or refill his pipe; while I
on the other side, powerless to take my eyes
off that dark figure, loomed grimly through
the dusk of the room, with my mind reduced
by fatigue, excitement, and the want of
food, to a condition that left nothing but a
feeling of vague wonder, not unmixed with
dread. I had little faith in the reality of the
scene: doubtless it was a dream,—a strange
fantastic dream, certainly—but still without
any foundation in fact.

The first streak of daylight was streaming
through the curtains, and the fire had burnt
down to a dull red spark, when he gruffly
demanded to be shown his room. I conducted
him up–stairs to the little attic where
I had formerly slept, as I thought he would
be less likely to be observed there than in
any other room. Besides, in case of need, he
might escape through the skylight on to the
roof, and thence to the ground. My heart
moved toward him as I turned to leave the
room. I remembered the loving letters
written to him by my mother long years
ago. I thought of all he had suffered; and,
turning round with tearful eyes, I stretched
out my hands, and felt my whole being yearn
irresistibly toward him.

"O, father, father, say you love me, if it
be ever so little!"

"What? snivelling again! Deuce take me
if ever I came across such a spoon! Come!
let your name be Walker. I'm in no humour
for the pathetic tonight, and couldn't
squeeze a tear if you offered me five pounds.
I'm ashamed of you; dash me if I'm not!"

How shall I describe the terrible time
that passed after that night? Even now I
shudder when I think of it. It was misery
to be under the same roof with that man.
Heaven knows how earnestly I still strove
to regard him with that feeling of love and
honour which I considered his due; and to
keep him still throned on that pedestal in my
heart, where he had stood glorified for so
many years; but it was impossible to do so.
As days and weeks passed on, the depths of
his nature were revealed to me one by one,
and all were dark and forbidding. Not one
generous sentiment, not one loveable trait,
not one lofty impulse did he ever betray.
Sometimes he would be moody and irritable,
and scarcely speak a word for days together;
while, at other times, his demeanour was
characterised by a wild and reckless gaiety
that brooked neither time nor place—a fierce
effervescence that bubbled a moment and
was gone. But in whatever mood he
might be, he always drank deeply, yet
without any apparent effect on his mind. He
was afraid to venture out during the day,
and lay in bed till evening with the brandy-
bottle by his side; but every night at ten
o'clock, whether the weather was fair or
foul he set out, and invariably obliged me
to accompany him. We took long, lone
rambles among the hills and moors, for
three or four hours, never returning till we
were both thoroughly fatigued. It was
during these nocturnal rambles that he
made me his confidant, and related to me
many of the secrets of his early life.

"I must open my mind to somebody, or
I shall go mad," he said to me one evening.

Many hair-breadth escapes and wild
adventures he narrated to me at such times,
in several of which, according to his own
account, the part he had played was a very
questionable one. He was a sceptic in
everything that a good man would anchor
himself to. Morality, virtue, right and wrong,
were to him empty sounds. Self was the
god at whose shrine he worshipped; to whom
everything was sacrificed.

This baleful presence was infinitely worse
than the old shadow that darkened my
childhood, and its effects soon began to tell
upon me. My bodily health became
impaired. Those long rambles by night,
coming after my day's labour in the school,
were too much for my strength; but, weak
as I was, my father always insisted on my
accompanying him. The effect of his
conversation on my mind was even worse.
The distinction between right and wrong
began to appear less vivid to me; unknown
to myself at the time, my standard of
morality became lowered; and, in fact, my
mind was being slowly poisoned. The dread
presence of that man weighed like an
incubus upon me; I had little time left to think
of Salome even, and I felt glad now, that she
had refused me. I would have died sooner
than have imposed on her a fraction of the
burden I now bore.

At this period the war in the east was
breaking out, and already throughout the
length and breadth of the land subscriptions
in aid of the widows and orphans of those
who had fallen in battle were being raised.
We in Howthwaite were never behindhand
in any charitable scheme. A. committee of
gentlemen was formed to collect subscriptions