hbourhood for any sort of agriculture. And
thus for fifteen years he had kept the surrounding country clear of
inquisitive settlers. Life had been very pleasant, quiet, monotonous,
and profitable for him, and, as he thought of it all, his eyes drooped
again to his books before him, and he gazed upon a sea of entries in a
long, thick, narrow volume which bore on the cover the legend--

OPIUM.

Yes, he never attempted to disguise from himself the nature of his
calling. He plastered neither himself nor his trade with thick
coatings of whitewash. He knew what he was, and faced the offensive
title with perfect equanimity. He was a smuggler, probably the largest
operator in the illicit traffic of opium smuggling, and the most
successful importer of Chinese along the whole extent of the American
border. He knew that the penitentiary was yearning for him; and he
knew that every moment of his life was shadowed by the threat of penal
servitude. And in the meantime he was storing up his wealth, not in
driblets, dependent upon the seasons for their extent, but in huge
sums which were proportionate to the risks he was prepared to run.

And his risks had been many, and his escapes narrow and frequent. But
he had hitherto evaded the law, and now the time had come when he
intended to throw it all up--to blot out at one sweep the traces of
those fifteen prosperous years, and settle down to enjoy the proceeds
of his toil.

It was only after much thought and after months of deliberation that
he had arrived at this decision. For this man revelled in his calling
with an enthusiasm which was worthy of an honest object. He was not a
man whose natural inclinations leant towards law-breaking; far from
it. Outside of his trade he lived a cleaner life than many a so-called
law-abiding citizen. The risks he ran, the excitement of contraband
trade had a fatal fascination which was as the breath of life to him;
a fascination which, with all his strength of mind in every other
direction, he was as powerless to resist as were the consumers
powerless to resist the fascinations of the drug he purveyed.

But now he stood face to face with a contingency he had never taken
into his considerations. He had fallen a victim to man's passion for a
woman; and he had been forced to a choice between the two things.
Either he must renounce all thoughts of Prudence Malling, or he must
marry her, and break from all his old associ