, and the landed proprietor pointed
to the door.

"For Mr Allcraft, William," said the squire.

"Very well!" said Michael, white with agitation; "Very well! As sure
as you are a living man, your ruin shall be coincident with mine. Not
a step shall I fall, down which you shall not follow and be dragged
yourself. You shall not be spared one pang. I warn you of your fate,
and it shall come sooner than you look for it."

"Pooh, pooh; you have been drinking, Mr. Allcraft."

"You lie, sir, as you have lied for months and years--lived upon lies,
and"--

"You need not say another word. You shall finish your sentence, sir,
elsewhere. Begone! William, show Mr. Allcraft to the door."

William pretended to look very absent again, and bowed. Michael stared
at him for a second or two, as if confounded, and then, like a madman,
rushed from the room and house.

CHAPTER VI.

THE CRASH.

The plans and objects of Mr Walter Bellamy were best known to himself.
Whatever they might be, he diverged from them for a few hours in order
to give his miserable partner the opportunity he had promised him, of
completing that very inauspicious sentence--the last which he had
uttered in Mr. Bellamy's house previously to his abrupt departure.
Michael had not been in the banking-house an hour after his return
from the Hall before he was visited by a business-like gentleman, who
introduced himself as the particular friend of Mr. Bellamy, on whose
particular business he professed to come. Allcraft, with his brain on
fire, received the visit of this man with secret glee. All the way
home he had prayed that Bellamy might prove as good as his word, and
not fail to demand immediate satisfaction. He longed for death with a
full and yearning desire, and he could kiss the hand that would be
merciful and give the fatal blow. A suicide at heart, it was something
to escape the guilt and punishment of self-murder. Bellamy was reputed
a first-rate shot. Michael was aware of the fact, and hugged the
consciousness to his soul. He would not detract from his reputation;
the duellist should add another laurel to his chaplet of _honour_, and
purchase it with his blood. He had resolved to fight and fall. It was
very evident that the friend of Mr Bellamy expected rather to frighten
Michael into a humble and contrite apology, than to find him ready and
eager for the battle; for he commenced his mission by a very long and
high-flown address, and assured Mr Allcra