e house, whose
shuttered windows and barred doors told of its altered destiny.

From thence he wandered onward towards the cottage--some strange,
inexplicable interest over him--to see once more the spot he had so
often fancied to be his own, and where, with a fervor not altogether
unreal, he had sworn to pass his days in tranquil solitude. Brief as
had been the interval since last he stood there, the changes were
considerable. The flower-plots were trampled and trodden down, the
palings smashed, the ornamental trees and shrubs were injured and broken
by the cattle; traces of reckless haste and carelessness were seen in
the broken gates and torn gate-posts; while fragments of packing-cases,
straw, and paper littered the walks and the turf around.

Looking through the windows, broken in many places, he could see the
cottage was perfectly dismantled. Everything was gone: not a trace
remained of those who for so many years had called it home! The
desolation was complete; nor was it without its depressing influence
upon him who stood there to mark it; for, strange enough, there are
little spots in the minds of those, where evil actions are oftenest
cradled, that form the refuge of many a tender thought! Linton
remembered the cottage as he saw it bright in the morning sun; or, more
cheerful still, as the closed curtains and the blazing fire gave a look
of homelike comfort to which the veriest wanderer is not insensible; and
now it was cold and dark. He had no self-accusings as to the cause. It
was, to him, one of those sad mutations which the course of fortune is
ever effecting. He even went further, and fancied how different had been
their fate if they had not rejected his own alliance.

"In this world of ours," muttered he, "the cards we are dealt by Fortune
would nearly always suffice to win, had we but skill. These people had a
noble game before them, but, forsooth, they did not fancy their partner!
And see what is come of it--ruin on every side!"

Gloomy thoughts over his own opportunities neglected--over eventful
moments left to slip by unprofitably--stole over him. Many of his late
speculations had been unsuccessful; he had had heavy losses on the
"turf" and the "'Change." He had failed in promises by which menacing
dangers had been long averted. His enemies would soon be upon him,
and he was ill provided for the encounter. Vengeance alone, of all his
aspirations, seemed to prosper; and he tried to revel in that th