his stony eyes fixed upon vacancy, as he was
so often wont to sit. Guly lifted one of the bony hands in his, but it
dropped heavily, lifelessly, back upon the desk. Mr. Delancey was dead!
The fearful lightning had borne him across life's river, without pain
and without warning.

CHAPTER XLII.

"Man wants but little here below."

Mr. Delancey's funeral was scarcely over, before Guly received a
message, stating that his friend the dwarf, was very ill, and desired to
see him. The ragged boy, who brought the message, offered to act as
guide to the cripple's hovel, remarking, that Richard said Monsieur
would give him a dime for so doing. The money was readily bestowed, and
in a few minutes Guly stood by the bedside of his wretched friend.
Everything about the place indicated poverty, destitution, and filth,
and the dwarf lay curled up, in the last stages of cholera, beneath the
few rags which served him for a covering. It was evident no physician
had been called, and it was now too late for one to do any good.

"Hih, hih, Monsieur," squeaked the poor old man; "come, at last, eh?
Look a long time for you; very cold, Monsieur, very."

Guly took the cramped and chilling hands in his, and strove to warm them
there.

"Hih, hih, Monsieur; poor little dwarf's time's come at last. Can't talk
much, Monsieur; but got very much to say."

"Don't exert yourself much, Richard."

"Only one little. I must improve my time. Ugh! Monsieur; that cramp was
very dreadful!"

A moment of silence ensued, broken only by the rattling respiration of
the expiring dwarf.

"Underneath this bed, Monsieur, and underneath the broad plank in the
floor--when I am gone, Monsieur, look, and you will find one strong box.
It holds a little money--only a little--which I have got for little odd
jobs and begging. After I am under the ground, that is yours. You are
the only one ever really kind to poor Richard, and now that he's going
away for ever, he wants you to remember him kindly."

"I could do it without this, Richard, always."

"No matter, Monsieur; dat is yours. Ugh! Monsieur, 'tis so cold. Don't
forget--under the broad plank. Think I'll be a straight man in the other
world, Monsieur?"

"Yes, Richard."

"Think you will know and love me there?"

"I hope so, Richard."

"So do I; in my heart, I do. Ugh! ugh! how cold. Give me your blessing,
Monsieur."

"God bless you, Richard."

"Ugh, Monsieur, I am going. Good-bye. There is