trusted to prevail on Philip to do the same, and accept an offer he was prepared to make, of opening a way to fame and fortune in his own trade, and near himself. He was disappointed to find the lad still continue firm in his resolve to prosecute the search himself, regardless of all else; but, anyway, Crump had settled to have his old favourite with him for the first few weeks of his emancipation, to talk matters over, to start him, if he would go, on his travels in a fitting manner, and above all to make a last effort to keep him near them altogether.

But, see you, great vessels will wreck, and swamp the lesser craft-firms will be bankrupt, and the little children of the workers be hungry-and the cinder fire, and the blanketless bed, and naked toes, teach them betimes a practical lesson, that will chance to stick by them when you shall read abstract truths of how virtue is its own reward here below, to doubting

ears.

Secure in the faith of his own honest soul, poor Crump had in an evil hour trusted more than the value of his own labour to the high and mighty showing of the dashing firm in whose speculations he had largely embarked-from his own pocket good cash had been expended to a much larger amount than, for his life, he had dared acquaint Polly with-had anticipated, with pride the lustre to be added to his fame, and the not inconsiderable addition to his means finally to be gained.

As the handwriting upon the wall shook the very soul of Belshazzar's feasters, so the fatal word bankrupt struck to the heart of poor David, when, shivering and shaking like a guilty thing, he hardly dared en

quire the extent of his loss. Simply all-no hope, no prospect, and happily, not the cruelty to keep him long in suspense.

Vain for me to attempt to describe the agony of the poor fellow, sharpened by remorse at the recollection of his own imprudence, by the certainty of an avenger at hand; for Polly was at her mother's at Buxton, but would be home in two days. Serious thoughts of deferring that meeting, as far as this world was con

cerned, rushed upon his mind. The worst unknown could be better dared than that of which he now felt, alas! he had even yet only tasted in moderation.

"the

But-" the back is fitted to the burden ". wind is tempered to the shorn lamb "—there is a law of compensation runs throughout the great plan-or "misfortunes never come alone."-You may put it which way you please.

Mrs. Crump had caught a bad cold; the cold became influenza, influenza quinsey. Mrs. Crump lost her strength; worst sign of all, lost her voice. Mrs. Crump survived just long enough to enjoin her heartbroken husband to have her buried in the new churchyard; to let all the children come to the funeral, baby and all-and-as he hoped to meet her in another place-not to have it christened after his eldest sister, whom she could never forgive for not coming to her in her last "trouble"-finally, specially exhorted him not to marry till the youngest should be nine years of age-and so departed, in happy ignorance of the faux pas in worldly wisdom made by poor David-who, good fellow, spared her last moments the pang, not perhaps free of a misgiving that had she learned it, she must undoubtedly have rallied and

cheated death, rather than miss so rare an opportunity of fulfilling her mission.

So within a few short weeks was changed the plan of Philip's staunch friend who, true to the last, offered to make him a sharer of his fortunes when, his whilom "angel" deposited in her earthly home, the remnants of his poor belongings gathered together, he yielded to the persuasion of some fellow-sufferers by the smash, and agreed to make one of a party about to found new hearths in Australia.

Of course Philip, with all due gratitude, declined. Crump would fain have come to fetch him away to say farewell, to give him advice, but his hours on English earth were limited, his cash still more so; the care of his young family pressed upon him, the journey was long, the money would do Phil more good. To a friend who had some commissions to fulfil at the town where young Steyne had intended to go, Crump entrusted the charge of a letter, heavy with good wishes, honest love, and kindly warning; heavy, too, with all he could give, more than he could spare, and an earnest wish that, for itself, was worth the reality of such effusions in general.

"God bless you, and keep you what you are."

Such the benison that started young Philip on his travels.

236

CHAPTER NINETEENTH.

A GOOD TURN-A WHISPER.

What is a trifle? In the acorn cups
Dwell the great ships, the mighty seas that ride;
The tiny moth-egg yields the silken web
That clothes the palace in its purple pride.
A bodkin point hath let out lordly life,
A woman's face whole cities brought to grief,
A slackened shoe-tie gained a man a wife,
A well-turned limb made "hero" of a thief.

AUTHOR.

THE ideas of the young traveller were changed, since, five years ago, he started on the sea-beach with somewhat of the same project in view. His destination was unaltered, but that was all. In that space of time Philip had learned and had thought much, if, as we have seen, not always with the best result. In his first acquaintance with the forbidden tree, it might be he had plucked of the bitterest fruit, and that the knowledge of evil was now to guide him in his almost hopeless search. From the conversation of boys older, if not in the world, in its ways, he had learned to dread the worst; and while confirmed in his determination never to relinquish his quest for his lost sister, he had been even more impressed with the probability that in the largest towns, London above all, would that inquiry be best pursued.

Whether experience, too, had led him to put less

THE FRUIT OF THE TREE.

237

faith in the Mr. Plunkett of old than at five years ago, I know not; but that idea occupied a very small space in Philip's plan of action now, if indeed it remained at all. It seemed as though the great conclusion arrived at was, to rely upon himself.

Eagerly he had

histories of his

In yet another way had the corrupt source of knowledge been not unfruitful to him. listened to, and stored up, the sad unhappy companions, their misfortunes, their wretchedness, their crimes, too often related with a triumphant zest, and pride of superior villany; and Philip had silently noted the recurring fact, almost invariably the same-drink. The parents' or the master's vice the miserable home, the lax guardianshipdrink constantly at the root-the public-house and its meretricious belongings-again and again, the lure, the pitfall, the Judas, the executioner.

I say the lad marked this; and even, though loathing the terrible histories, so much of one fashion, he would, on the arrival of a new inmate, in the hours for relaxation, draw him on to tell his tale, and with nervous eagerness wait for the creaking of the same cruel hinge on which so many of these pitiful child lives turned.

Feeding the fire that already burned at his heart, strengthening the bitterness of those dreadful recollections which each day rather seemed to brand more strongly into his memory, and on which, in the reticience of his nature, he had brooded, till he believed life to contain for him but two purposes-the recovery of the child sister, destroyed, castaway, as she might be; and, second only, but awaiting thatRevenge.