nt, and passing
his hand across his forehead. 'No, no; I'm awake--wide awake; and _I_ am
Michael Rust; that's more strange than all.'

After hours of wandering, he found himself at his office. He ascended the
stairs, opened the door, and went in. It was dark, for the lights had been
twinkling in the shop-windows before he left the street; but he sat down
without observing it; and there he remained until Kornicker came in with a
light.

Rust made no reply to the salutation which he received. Kornicker placed
the light on the table; and after loitering round the room, and busying
himself with a few papers which he had arranged on the table, to give it a
business-like appearance, he asked:

'Do you want me any more, to-night?'

'No; you may go.'

The dismissal and departure of Mr. Kornicker were almost simultaneous. His
heavy foot went thumping from step to step, and finally the street-door
banged after him. Rust sat without moving, listening to every tramp of his
heavy foot, until the door shut it out.

'So, he's gone,' said he, drawing a long breath, and cuddling himself up
on his chair. 'He'll be in my way no more to-night.'

He shivered slightly; and then got up and drew his chair nearer the grate,
although there was no fire in it. 'And _this_ is then the end of my
scheme,' muttered he; 'I have gone on for years in the same beaten track,
fighting off all who could interfere with me. The affection of those who
would have loved me; friends, relatives, those nearest to me, with the
same blood in our veins, nursed in the same arms, who drew life from the
same source; this cold heart has repulsed, until they have all abandoned
me!'

He leaned his head on his hands, and tears, scalding tears, gushed from
his eyes. 'I did it for _her_. It was to get gold to lavish on _her_. I
would have chained myself for life to that old man's daughter, to get
wealth; I would have added the murder of those children to the catalogue
of my crimes, that I might have grasped their inheritance, to have
showered all that I had gathered by toil and crime upon _her_. She was my
hope, my pride, my own dear darling child; but she is shipwrecked now; she
has withered my heart. I would have shed its last blood for her. I
would--I _would_; indeed I would! But it's useless to think of it. She can
never be what she was; the bright, pure-souled, spotless child whom I
worshipped. Yes, yes; I _did_ worship her; Why deny it? Better, far
better, she h