in the town and neighbourhood; and I was
appointed secretary to the fund.

I was called upon one evening by several
members of the committee, who, having been
to the treasurer's house, and finding he had
been suddenly called from home owing to the
illness of his brother, desired me to take
charge of their day's collection in aid of the
funds, amounting to three hundred pounds.
It was a duty that I would gladly have dispensed
with, especially as banking hours were
over. They pressed me, however, so much
on the point, that I took the money, and
gave them my receipt. In my parlour was a
small iron safe, let into the wall, in which
were kept many of the deeds relating to the
foundation of the hospital. In it I carefully
deposited the money.

That night, after my usual walk was over,
and my father had retired to his room, I
looked into the safe, and, having seen that
everything was secure, went to bed, placing
the key of the safe under my pillow before
blowing out the light. I awoke out of an
uneasy dream just in time to hear the clock
strike three. I felt instinctively under my
pillow for the key, but it was gone. I was
out of bed in an instant. The first pale
streaks of day were beginning to broaden in
the east, but all the landscape without lay
dim and indistinct. I partially dressed
myself in haste, and stole gently down stairs,
with no thought but that of seeing that my
money was safe. The parlour door was closed
but not fastened. A dim light shone from
under it, and through the keyhole. I
approached on tiptoe, and pushed it suddenly
open. My father was stooping, in the act of
opening the safe with the key stolen from
under my pillow. He started up in surprise
as the door flew suddenly open, and glared
savagely at me. I rushed forward, and pushing
him hastily on one side, planted myself
with my back to the safe.

"Father! what are you about? " I
exclaimed. "The money is not mine."

"Yours or not, I must have it," he replied,
in a low, hoarse voice. "So stand aside, or
it will be worse for you."

I saw by the wild gleam in his eyes that he
had been drinking even more than usual.

"The money is not mine. It is only left
with me for the night. You cannot have it."

"Have it, I must and will. Stand aside."

"Take all else that I have, only—"

"Will you stand aside?"

'' O, father! have some pity," I exclaimed.
"You will ruin me for ever if you take this
money. I cannot replace it. Everything else
is yours, but this. This you must not touch."

"Out of my way I tell you."

"Never! I will defend it against everyone
while I have breath. It is a sacred trust.
You should be the last man in the world to
wish me to betray it."

"A very pretty speech indeed," he replied,
with a sneer. "You have more pluck than I
gave you credit for. I begin to like you a
little. Nevertheless, I must have the money.
For the last time, will you stand aside? You
refuse? Well, let us see what a little friend
of mine has got to say on the subject."

So speaking, he quietly drew a revolver
from the inside of his vest. The ominous
click of the weapon, as he raised it to the
level of my head, was the last sound I
expected to hear on earth—the last sound,
except the audible beat of my heart, and the
dull, thunderous buzzing of my brain.
Momently I expected to see him pull the trigger;
but in about half-a-minute he lowered the
pistol, remarking, as if to himself, as he did
so: "It might alarm the neighbourhood if I
fired, and that would be inconvenient." Then
addressing me again, he said:

"I give you one more chance for your life.
Will you give up the money quietly? No?
Well then, take that for being obstinate!"
Clutching the barrel of the pistol in his
hand as he spoke, he brought down the stock
heavily on my head, and I fell to the ground
insensible.

It was broad daylight when I recovered
my consciousness. I rose with difficulty. A
thousand hammers seemed to be beating on
my brain. My face was smeared with blood
that flowed from a great wound on my
forehead. The door of the safe was locked, and
the key lay on the table, near an empty
brandy-bottle. I knew it would be useless to
look if the money were still there; so taking
the key with me, I went up-stairs to bed, and
fell immediately into a dull, torpid sleep, that
lasted till mid-day.

I was informed, when I awoke, that several
gentlemen had been inquiring for me. I
knew what they wanted; so I washed, and
dressed, and went down stairs to await their
coming again. I had not long to wait. The
treasurer had returned, and they were come
for the money left with me overnight.

I shall never forget the universal stare of
astonishment that greeted me when I told
them I had lost it. They pressed me for
further particulars, but I had none to give;
except to add that I was innocent of
appropriating it to myself. The same reason that
had prevented me from calling for assistance
during the night, sealed my tongue now. Let
what come, I was determined not to betray
my father.

Some of my best friends were on the
committee; and my solemn asseveration that I
had lost the money, and not used it for my
own purposes, would have been sufficient, in
their eyes, to exculpate me from that of any
graver charge than that of carelessness. But
Mr. Basinglee was not to be conciliated.
How could I have lost it? he asked. If I
had really lost it, why not say how, when,
and where? He was decidedly of opinion
that the committee ought to prosecute. He, for
one, should not be satisfied unless they did.
Mr. Basinglee's view of the case was that