you be, I shall not refuse you."

"That's it," interrupted Darby; "if you feel in your heart a friend to
your country--"

"Silence!" said the other, harshly; "let him decide for himself."

"I neither know your intentions, nor even guess at them," said I,
frankly. "My destitution, and the poor prospect before me, make me, as
you suppose, indifferent to what I embark in, provided that it be not
dishonorable.

"It is not danger that will deter me, that 's all I can promise you."

"I see," said the stranger, "this is but another of your pranks, Mr.
M'Keown; the young gentleman was to be kidnapped amongst us. One thing,"
said he, turning to me, "I feel assured of, that anything you have
witnessed here is safe within your keeping; and now we'll not press the
matter further. In a few days you can hear, and make up your mind on all
these things; and as you are not otherwise provided, let us make you our
guest in the mean while."

Without giving me time to reply, he led me downstairs again, and
unlocking a room on the second floor, passed through several rooms,
until he reached one comfortably fitted up like a study.

"You must be satisfied with a sofa here for to-night but to-morrow I
will make you more comfortable."

I threw my eyes over the well-filled bookshelf with delight, and was
preparing to thank him for all his kindness to me, when he added,--

"I must leave you now, but we 'll meet to-morrow; so good-night. Come
along, M'Keown; we shall want you presently."

I would gladly have detained Darby to interrogate him about my new abode
and its inhabitants; but he was obliged to obey, and I heard the door
locked as they closed it on the outside, and shortly after the sounds of
their feet died away, and I was left in silence.

Determined to con over, and if possible explain to myself, the mystery
of my position, I drew my sofa towards the fire and sat down; but
fatigue, stronger than all my curiosity, had the mastery, and I was soon
sound asleep.

CHAPTER VIII. NO. 39, AND ITS FREQUENTERS.

When my eyes opened the following morning, it was quite pardonable in me
if I believed I was still dreaming. The room, which I had scarcely time
to look at the previous evening, now appeared handsomely, almost richly
furnished. Books in handsome bindings covered the shelves, prints in
gilded frames occupied the walls, and a large mirror filled the space
above the chimney. Various little articles of taste, in bronze and