blood, but the fever of delirium was beyond the power of medicine. Gnashing his teeth, glaring with his one bloodshot eye upon them, the wounded boxer raved at one moment incoherently, the next with method and meaning that thrilled even those accustomed hearers with horror.

Suddenly a word that fell caused Darby to start.

"What's that he says ?" he cried, and leaned forward to look closer than he had yet cared to do. "Hark! let me hear let me see him! Gracious Heaven! why it is-yes, it's Tom Hinton!"

"Who wants me ?-that's me! I say who wants me ?" cried the wounded man, making a desperate effort to burst the bands that held him.

Speak to him, if you know him; do not excite him," said the surgeon, putting Will Darby forward.

"Oh, it's you, is it? you, thee's come at last," roared the disfigured bully, gnashing his teeth and spitting forth blood and foam. "Where's my wife,

thee! where is she? Thee want's thee's wench, tha'-ha! ha! I did it, I did so-I took her, I took her-ha! ha!-curse you all, give me the brandy! Hit him fair! I did hit fair!-I'll cut out his eyes! Ha, that's done it-he's down!-give me the brandy I say!"

With a violent wrench he broke the bond, and would have sprung from the bed, but in an instant was forcibly restrained; the bandages were slipped, the blood gushed forth; with curses, oaths and threats, the now dying man fought at those who would have assisted him. More than temporary relief was hopeless.

"Curse the wench! bring her here!-if I get at her, I'll wring her head off, as I did the bird! Ha! ha! the poor bird-the singing fool; the snivelling wench-gone with him! Eh, but we're even-come here!" (he evidently took Darby for Steyne) "come here-ha! ha! I said she was dead; dead, not shea fine thing, my wench, a fine thing to sit in gold and jewels, silks and satins-oh! oh! my Lord Ducie, I frightened her, did I? Ha! ha! ha! she can see, if she can't hear-dead, not she, my sweet Rose !-ha! ha! dead-dead-brandy-curse you!-hit fair!

br-r-andy-d-ead!"

With the last word upon his blood-stained lips, he fell back, flung his clenched fist above his head, and died.

The men looked at one another, in the pause that follows such a moment.

"Thereby hangs a tale," said one, as he turned from the bed.

"Dangerous fellows to keep a man's secrets, eh ?" put in another.

"Lord Ducie, that was his patron," remarked a third.

"Yes, but he's just come into the earldom; going to marry, and be cleansed from all unrighteousness; cut one ring, take up another. I say, what a

biceps!"

“Ah!—but there was a girl in the case, and Bulldog had helped in it, I should say."

"Something of the kind, no doubt.

Don't you

remember, by the by, there was talk of a beauty he

took over to Paris a year or two back ?"

"Yes," said another, as they left the room; ። 'a

dancer, I fancy. Ever seen his place at Paris? It is the thing, they say, and nothing else. He's taste, has Ducie."

"He's a born fool."

"That's not unlikely." Turning to Darby, the speaker asked-"Did you know the fellow? What was his name?"

"Hinton. I had not seen him for years; he was a mason when I knew him.”

Ah, he'd been everything in his time, where brute strength was valuable: fine fellow, he was, but the drink-the drink it was, sewed him up. Now, then, who's for the Two Tuns ?' all of us? That's right. Good night, sir."

And the moralist, with his companions, left Darby to pursue his way.

Which was, at first, straightway to the house he had so lately quitted, to convey to Steyne the intelligence he had gathered from the ravings of the dying man-ravings which bore too much connection with the facts already known, to be unheeded by Darby. For it had more than crossed his mind to question the truth of Hinton's story when Philip had related it; and he was prepared to credit far more the sad revelation he had just listened to.

But even as he came in sight of the dwelling of his friend, he asked himself, to what purpose should he distract his mind with a recital, which, even if proved fact, would result, but too probably, in the discovery of a sister's shame? "It will only unsettle him besides for business," mused the thoughtful fellow. "At any rate, I'll find out the rights of it myself, and I can but tell him then. A week or so

will make but little difference in my going down home. God knows but I may be sent to save her; the poor thing may be sick of her life, and glad to see a face that cares for her. If I can serve her, aye, to the last drop of blood in my veins, how thankful I shall be !"

He turned back; and, when morning broke, was far upon his journey of discovery.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SECOND.

A CONFESSIONAL-WHERE FAME IS DISTANCED.

"For there are brighter dreams than those of fame,

Which are the dreams of love! Out of the heart

Rises the bright ideal of these dreams,

And I, born under a propitious star,
Have found the bright ideal."

"And when thou wast gone, I felt an aching here,
I thought I ne'er should see thy face again,
I loved thee even then, though I was silent."

"Yes, I do love thee, as the good love heaven;

But that I am not worthy of that heaven.
How shall I more deserve it?"

" AND you love me, Kate ?"

LONGFELLOW.

He raised the blushing face that was bent down from him, and laid it on his shoulder. "The truthI know my Kate will speak the truth, does she indeed love me ?"

A little closer nestled the head, with its thick clustering ringlets, and the lips just whispered to the ear they almost touched—

"Dearly, dearly."

He folded her nearer in his arms; his grave, sad face, lighted up with gladness, as he bent his head to kiss hers, where it lay upon his breast, and for a few minutes there was the silence of perfect happiness.

"Let me see the dear face," he said, gently lifting it. The blushes had died away, and the honest eyes