though, of course, in such a reverse of the normal laws of her being, Mademoiselle Desmarets set those bounds on her own generosity which she would not have imposed upon his, and had said with a sigh, "I could forgive him if he beat me and beggared my friends; but to beat my friends and to beggar me,-that is not the kind of love which makes the world go round !”

Scandalised to the last nerve of his respectable system by the information thus gleaned, Mr Gotobed returned to London. More letters from Jasper-becoming urgent, and at last even insolent-Mr Gotobed, worried into a reply, wrote back shortly "that he could not even communicate such applications to Mr Darrell, and that he must peremptorily decline all further intercourse, epistolary or personal, with Mr Hammond."

Darrell, on returning from one of the occasional rambles on the Continent, "remote, unfriended, melancholy," by which he broke the monotony of his Fawley life, found a letter from Jasper, not fawning, but abrupt, addressed to himself, complaining of Mr Gotobed's improper tone, requesting pecuniary assistance, and intimating that he could in return communicate to Mr Darrell an intelligence that would give him more joy than all his wealth could purchase. Darrell enclosed that note to Mr Gotobed; Mr Gotobed came down to Fawley to make those revelations of Jasper's mode of life which were too delicate, or too much the reverse, to commit to paper. Great as Darrell's disgust at the memory of Jasper had hitherto been, it may well be conceived how much more bitter became that memory now. No answer was, of course, vouchsafed to Jasper, who, after another extremely forcible appeal for money, and equally enigmatical boast of the pleasurable information it was in his power to bestow, relapsed into sullen silence.

One day, somewhat more than five years after Matilda's death, Darrell, coming in from his musing walks, found a stranger waiting for him. This stranger was William Losely, returned from penal exile; and while Darrell, on hearing this announce

ment, stood mute with haughty wonder that such a visitor could cross the threshold of his father's house, the convict began what seemed to Darrell a story equally audacious and incomprehensible-the infant Matilda had borne to Jasper, and the certificates of whose death had been so ceremoniously produced and so prudently attested, lived still! Sent out to nurse as soon as born, the nurse had in her charge another babe, and this last was the child who had died and been buried as Matilda Hammond's. The elder Losely went on to stammer out a hope that his son was not at the time aware of the fraudulent exchange, but had been deceived by the nurse-that it had not been a premeditated imposture of his own to obtain his wife's fortune.

When Darrell came to this part of his story, Alban Morley's face grew more seriously interested. "Stop!" he said; "William Losely assured you of his own conviction that this strange tale was true. What proofs did he volunteer?"

"Proofs! Death, man, do you think that at such moments I was but a bloodless lawyer, to question and cross-examine? I could but bid the impostor leave the house which his feet polluted."

Alban heaved a sigh, and murmured, too low for Darrell to overhear, "Poor Willy!" then aloud, 'But, my dear friend, bear with me one moment. Suppose that, by the arts of this diabolical Jasper, the exchange really had been effected, and a child to your ancient line lived still, would it not be a solace, a comfort-"

"Comfort!" cried Darrell, "comfort in the perpetuation of infamy! The line I promised my father to restore to its rank in the land, to be renewed in the grandchild of a felon!-in the child of the yet viler sharper of a hell!-You, gentleman and soldier, call that thought— 'comfort?' O Alban !--out on you! Fie! fie! No!-leave such a thought to the lips of a William Losely! He indeed, clasping his hands, faltered forth some such word; he seemed to count on my forlorn privation of kith and kindred-no heir to my wealth

-no representative of my racewould I deprive myself of-ay-your very words of a solace-a comfort! He asked me, at least, to inquire."

"And you answered ?"

66 Answered so as to quell and crush in the bud all hopes in the success of so flagrant a falsehoodanswered, Why inquire? Know that, even if your tale were true, I have no heir, no representative, no descendant in the child of Jasperthe grandchild of William-Losely. I can at least leave my wealth to the son of Charles Haughton. True, Charles Haughton was a spendthrift -a gamester; but he was neither a professional cheat nor a convicted felon."

"You said that-O Darrell !" The Colonel checked himself. But for Charles Haughton, the spendthrift and gamester, would William Losely have been the convicted felon? He checked that thought, and hurried on-" And how did William Losely reply?"

"He made no reply-he skulked away without a word."

Darrell then proceeded to relate the interview which Jasper had forced on him at Fawley during Lionel's visit there on Jasper's part, an attempt to tell the same tale as William had told-on Darrell's part, the same scornful refusal to hear it out. "And," added Darrell, "the man, finding it thus impossible to dupe my reason, had the inconceivable meanness to apply to me for alms. I could not better show the disdain in which I held himself and his story than in recognising his plea as a mendicant. I threw my purse at his feet, and so left him.

"But," continued Darrell, his brow growing darker and darker-"but wild and monstrous as the story was, still the idea that it MIGHT be true -a supposition which derived its sole strength from the character of Jasper Losely-from the interest he had in the supposed death of a child that alone stood between himself and the money he longed to grasp an interest which ceased when the money itself was gone, or rather changed into the counterinterest of proving a life that, he thought, would re-establish a hold

on me still, I say, an idea that the story might be true, would force itself on my fears, and if so, though my resolution never to acknowledge the child of Jasper Losely as a representative, or even as a daughter, of my house, would of course be immovable-yet it would become my duty to see that her infancy was sheltered, her childhood reared, her youth guarded, her existence amply provided for."

"Right-your plain duty," said Alban, bluntly. "Intricate sometimes are the obligations imposed on us as gentlemen; noblesse oblige' is a motto which involves puzzles for a casuist; but our duties as men are plain-the idea very properly haunted you-and

"And I hastened to exorcise the spectre. I left England-I went to the French town in which poor Matilda died-I could not, of course, make formal or avowed inquiries of a nature to raise into importance the very conspiracy (if conspiracy there were) which threatened me. But I saw the physician who had attended both my daughter and her child-I saw those who had seen them both when living-seen them both when dead. The doubt on my mind was dispelled -not a pretext left for my own selftorment. The only person needful in evidence whom I failed to see was the nurse to whom the infant had been sent. She lived in a village some miles from the town-I called at her house-she was out. I left word I should call the next day-I did so-she had absconded. I might, doubtless, have traced her, but to what end, if she were merely Jasper's minion and tool? Did not her very flight prove her guilt and her terror? Indirectly I inquired into her antecedents and character. The inquiry opened a field of conjecture, from which I hastened to turn my eyes. This woman had a sister who had been in the service of Gabrielle Desmarets; and Gabrielle Desmarets had been in the neighbourhood during my poor daughter's lifetime, and just after my daughter's death. And the nurse had had two infants under her charge; the nurse had removed with one of them to Paris-and Gabrielle Desmarets lived in Paris-and, O, Alban,

if there be really in flesh and life a child by Jasper Losely to be forced upon my purse or my pity-is it his child, not by the ill-fated Matilda, but by the vile woman for whom Matilda, even in the first year of wedlock, was deserted? Conceive how credulity itself would shrink appalled from the horrible snare! I to acknowledge, adopt, proclaim as the last of the Darrells, the adulterous offspring of a Jasper Losely and a Gabrielle Desmarets!-or, when I am in my grave, some claim advanced upon the sum settled by my marriage articles on Matilda's issue, and which, if a child survived, could not have been legally transferred to its father-a claim with witnesses suborned-a claim that might be fraudulently establisheda claim that would leave the representative-not indeed of my lands and wealth, but, more precious far, of my lineage and blood-in-in the person of-of-"

Darrell paused, almost stifling, and became so pale that Alban started from his seat in alarm.

"It is nothing," resumed Darrell, faintly, "and, ill or well, I must finish this subject now, so that we need not reopen it.

"I remained abroad, as you know, for some years. During that time two or three letters from Jasper Losely were forwarded to me; the latest in date more insolent than all preceding ones. It contained demands as if they were rights, and insinuated threats of public exposure, reflecting on myself and my pride 'He was my son-in-law after all, and if he came to disgrace, the world should know the tie.' Enough. This is all I knew until the man who now, it seems, thrusts himself forward as Jasper Losely's friend or agent, spoke to me the other night at Mrs Haughton's. That man you have seen, and you say that he--"

"Represents Jasper's poverty as extreme; his temper unscrupulous and desperate; that he is capable of any amount of scandal or violence. It seems that though at Paris he has (Poole believes) still preserved the name of Hammond, yet that in England he has resumed that of Losely, seems by Poole's date of the time on

which he, Poole, made Jasper's acquaintance, to have done so after his baffled attempt on you at Fawleywhether in so doing he intimated the commencement of hostilities, or whether, as is more likely, the sharper finds it convenient to have one name in one country, and one in another, 'tis useless to inquire; enough that the identity between the Hammond who married poor Matilda, and the Jasper Losely whose father was transported, that unscrupulous rogue has no longer any care to conceal. It is true that the revelation of this identity would now be of slight moment to a man of the world- as thickskinned as myself for instance; but to you it would be disagreeablethere is no denying that--and therefore, in short, when Mr Poole advises a compromise, by which Jasper could be secured from want and yourself from annoyance, I am of the same opinion as Mr Poole is." "You are?"

"Certainly. My dear Darrell, if in your secret heart there was something so galling in the thought that the man who had married your daughter, though without your consent, was not merely the commonplace adventurer whom the world supposed, but the son of that poor dear-I mean that rascal who was transported, Jasper too, himself a cheat and a sharper-if this galled you so, that you have concealed the true facts from myself, your oldest friend, till this day-if it has cost you even now so sharp a pang to divulge the true name of that Mr Hammond, whom our society never saw, whom even gossip has forgotten in connection with yourself-how intolerable would be your suffering to have this man watching for you in the streets, some wretched girl in his hand, and crying out, 'A penny for your son-in-law and your grandchild!' Pardon me- I must be blunt. You can give him to the police-send him to the treadmill. Does that mend the matter? Or, worse still, suppose the man commits some crime that fills all the newspapers with his life and adventures, including, of course, his runaway marriage with the famous Guy Darrell's heiress-no one would blame

you, no one respect you less; but do not tell me that you would not be glad to save your daughter's name from being coupled with such a miscreant's at the price of half your fortune." "Alban," said Darrell, gloomily, "you can say nothing on this score that has not been considered by myself. But the man has so placed the matter, that honour itself forbids me to bargain with him for the price of my name. So long as he threatens, I cannot buy off a threat; so long as he persists in a story by which he would establish a claim on me on behalf of a child whom I have every motive as well as every reason to disown as inheriting my bloodwhatever I bestowed on himself would seem like hush-money to suppress that claim."

"Of course I understand, and entirely agree with you. But if the man retract all threats, confess his imposture in respect to this pretended offspring, and consent to retire for life to a distant colony, upon an annuity that may suffice for his wants, but leave no surplus beyond, to render more glaring his vices, or more effective his powers of evil-if this could be arranged between Mr Poole and myself, I think that your peace might be permanently secured without the slightest sacrifice of honour. Will you leave the matter in my

hands on this assurance-that I will not give this person a farthing except on the conditions I have premised?"

"On these conditions, yes, and most gratefully," said Darrell. "Do what you will; but one favour more: never again speak to me (unless absolutely compelled) in reference to this dark portion of my inner life."

Alban pressed his friend's hand, and both were silent for some moments. Then said the Colonel, with an attempt at cheerfulness, "Darrell, more than ever now do I see that the new house at Fawley, so long suspended, must be finished. Marry again you must!-you can banish old remembrances unless you can supplant them by fresh hopes."

never

"I feel it-I know it,” cried Darrell, passionately. And oh! if one remembrance could be wrenched away! But it shall-it shall!"

Ah!" thought Alban-" the remembrance of his former conjugal life!-a remembrance which might well make the youngest and the boldest Benedict shrink from the hazard of a similar experiment."

In proportion to the delicacy, the earnestness, the depth of a man's nature, will there be a something in his character which no male friend can conceive, and a something in the secrets of his life which no male friend can ever conjecture.

Colonel Morley had a second interview with Mr Poole. It needed not Alban's knowledge of the world to discover that Poole was no partial friend to Jasper Losely; that, for some reason or other, Poole was no less anxious than the Colonel to get that formidable client, whose cause he so warmly advocated, pensioned and packed off into the region most remote from Great Britain, in which a spirit hitherto so restless might consent to settle. And although Mr Poole had evidently taken offence at Mr Darrell's discourteous rebuff of his amiable intentions, yet no grudge against Darrell furnished a motive

for conduct equal to his Christian desire that Darrell's peace should be purchased by Losely's perpetual exile. Accordingly, Colonel Morley took leave, with a well-placed confidence in Poole's determination to do all in his power to induce Jasper to listen to reason. The Colonel had hoped to learn something from Poole of the elder Losely's present residence and resources. Poole, as we know, could give him there no information. The Colonel also failed to ascertain any particulars relative to that female pretender on whose behalf Jasper founded his principal claim to Darrell's aid. And so great was Poole's

a

embarrassment in reply to all questions on that score-Where was the young person? With whom had she lived? What was she like? Could the Colonel see her, and hear her own tale that Alban entertained strong suspicion that no such girl was in existence; that she was a pure fiction and myth; or that, if Jasper were compelled to produce some petticoated fair, she would be an artful baggage hired for the occasion. Poole waited Jasper's next visit with impatience and sanguine delight. He had not a doubt that the ruffian would cheerfully consent to allow that, on farther inquiry, he found he had been deceived in his belief of Sophy's parentage, and that there was nothing in England so peculiarly sacred to his heart, but what he might consent to breathe the freer air of Columbian skies, or even to share the shepherd's harmless life amidst the pastures of auriferous Australia! But, to Poole's ineffable consternation, Jasper declared sullenly that he would not consent to expatriate himself merely for the sake of living.

"I am not so young as I was," said the bravo; "I don't speak of years, but feeling. I have not the same energy; once I had high spirits they are broken; once I had hope-I have none: I am not up to exertion; I have got into lazy habits. To go into new scenes, form new plans, live in a horrid raw new world, everybody round me bustling and pushingNo! that may suit your thin dapper light Hop-o'-my-thumbs! Look at me! See how I have increased in weight the last five years-all solid bone and muscle. I defy any four draymen to move me an inch if I am not in the mind to it; and to be blown off to the antipodes as if I were the down of a pestilent thistle, I am not in the mind for that, Dolly Poole !"

"Hum!" said Poole, trying_to smile. "This is funny talk. You always were a funny fellow. But I am quite sure, from Colonel Morley's decided manner, that you can get nothing from Darrell if you choose to remain in England."

"Well, when I have nothing else left, I may go to Darrell myself, and have that matter out with him. At present I am not up to it. Dolly,

VOL. LXXXIV.-NO. DXIII.

don't bore!" And the bravo, opening a jaw strong enough for any carnivorous animal, yawned-yawned much as a bored tiger does in the face of a philosophical student of savage manners in the Zoological Gardens.

"Bore!" said Poole, astounded, and recoiling from that expanded jaw. "But I should have thought no subject could bore you less than the consideration of how you are to live?"

"Why, Dolly, I have learned to be easily contented, and you see at present I live upon you."

"Yes," groaned Poole, "but that can't go on for ever; and, besides, you promised that you would leave me in peace as soon as I had got Darrell to provide for you."

Tell

"So I will. Zounds, sir, do you doubt my word? So I will. But I don't call exile 'a provision'-Basta! I understand from you that Colonel Morley offers to restore the niggardly L.200 a-year Darrell formerly allowed to me, to be paid monthly or weekly, through some agent in Van Diemen's Land, or some such uncomfortable half-way house to Eternity, that was not even in the Atlas when I studied geography at school. But L.200 ayear is exactly my income in England, paid weekly too, by your agreeable self, with whom it is a pleasure to talk over old times. Therefore that proposal is out of the question. Colonel Morley, with my compliments, that if he will double the sum, and leave me to spend it where I please, I scorn haggling, and say done.' And as to the girl, since I cannot find her (which, on penalty of being thrashed to a mummy, you will take care not to let out), I would agree to leave Mr Darrell free to disown her. But are you such a dolt as not to see that I put the ace of trumps on my adversary's pitiful deuce, if I depose that my own child is not my own child, when all I get for it is what I equally get out of you, with my ace of trumps still in my hands? Basta!-I say again Basta! It is evidently an object to Darrell to get rid of all fear that Sophy should ever pounce upon him tooth and claw: if he be so convinced that she is not his daughter's child, why make a

E