saying.

"It is a good thing some one can do something," Brand answered. "As for
me, I can't settle down to anything. I feel as if I had been living on
laughing-gas these last two days. I feel as if I had come alive again
into another world, and was a little bit bewildered just as yet.
However, I suppose we shall get shaken into our new positions by-and-by;
and the sooner they let us know their final arrangements the better."

"As for me," said Edwards, carelessly, "now that I have left the Museum
I don't care where I may have to go."

At this moment a note was brought in by the old German, and handed to
Edwards. He glanced at the straggling, almost illegible, address in
pencil on the dirty envelope.

"Well, this is too bad," he said, impatiently.

"What is it?"

"That fellow Kirski. He is off again. I can see by his writing. He never
was very good at it; but this is the handwriting of delirium tremens."

He opened the letter, and glanced at the first page.

"Oh yes," he said, in disgust, "he's off again, clearly."

"What does he say?"

"The usual rigmarole--only not quite so legible. The beautiful angel
who was so kind to him--he has taken her portrait from its
hiding-place--it is sacred now--no more public house--well, it looks
rather as if he had been to several."

At this point, however, Edwards's pale, high forehead flushed a little.

"I wish I had not told him; but he speaks of Miss Lind being in
trouble--and he says God never meant one so beautiful and kind as she to
be in trouble--and if her father--"

His face grew grave.

"What is this?"

He turned the leaf suddenly, and glanced at the remainder of the letter.

"Good God! what does the man mean? What has he done?" he exclaimed.

His face was quite pale. The letter dropped from his hands. Then he
jumped to his feet.

"Come, Brand--quick--quick!" he said, hurriedly. "You must come with
me--"

"But what is the matter?" Brand said, following him in amazement.

"I don't know," said Edwards, almost incoherently. "He may be raving--it
may only be drunkenness--but he says he is about to kill himself in
place of Lind: the young lady shall not be troubled--she was kind to
him, and he is grateful. I am to send her a message."

By this time the two friends were hurrying to the dingy little
thoroughfare in which Kirski had his lodgings.

"Don't alarm yourself, Edwards," said Brand; "he has broken out again,
that is all."

"I am not so sure. He