nd the solitary and darkening room--plunged his
hand into the drawer, clutched he knew not what--silver or gold, as it
came uppermost--and burst into a loud and bitter laugh. The laugh itself
startled him--it did not sound like his own. His face fell, and his
knees knocked together--his hair bristled--he felt as if the very fiend
had uttered that yell of joy over a fallen soul.

"No--no--no!" he muttered; "no, my mother,--not even for thee!" And,
dashing the money to the ground, he fled, like a maniac, from the house.

At a later hour that same evening, Mr. Robert Beaufort returned from his
country mansion to Berkeley Square. He found his wife very uneasy and
nervous about the non-appearance of their only son. Arthur had sent home
his groom and horses about seven o'clock, with a hurried scroll, written
in pencil on a blank page torn from his pocket-book, and containing only
these words,--

"Don't wait dinner for me--I may not be home for some hours. I have met
with a melancholy adventure. You will approve what I have done when we
meet."

This note a little perplexed Mr. Beaufort; but, as he was very hungry,
he turned a deaf ear both to his wife's conjectures and his own
surmises, till he had refreshed himself; and then he sent for the groom,
and learned that, after the accident to the blind man, Mr. Arthur
had been left at a hosier's in H----. This seemed to him extremely
mysterious; and, as hour after hour passed away, and still Arthur came
not, he began to imbibe his wife's fears, which were now wound up almost
to hysterics; and just at midnight he ordered his carriage, and taking
with him the groom as a guide, set off to the suburban region. Mrs.
Beaufort had wished to accompany him; but the husband observing that
young men would be young men, and that there might possibly be a lady
in the case, Mrs. Beaufort, after a pause of thought, passively agreed
that, all things considered, she had better remain at home. No lady
of proper decorum likes to run the risk of finding herself in a
false position. Mr. Beaufort accordingly set out alone. Easy was the
carriage--swift were the steeds--and luxuriously the wealthy man was
whirled along. Not a suspicion of the true cause of Arthur's detention
crossed him; but he thought of the snares of London--or artful females
in distress; "a melancholy adventure" generally implies love for
the adventure, and money for the melancholy; and Arthur was
young--generous--with a heart and