ership, if not with vice and
crime, at least with subterfuge and trick. I awake from my reckless
boyhood--my unworthy palterings with my better self. If Gawtrey be as I
dread to find him--if he be linked in some guilty and hateful traffic;
with that loathsome accomplice--I will--" He paused, for his heart
whispered, "Well, and even so,--the guilty man clothed and fed thee!"
"I will," resumed his thought, in answer to his heart--"I will
go on my knees to him to fly while there is yet time, to
work--beg--starve--perish even--rather than lose the right to look man
in the face without a blush, and kneel to his God without remorse!"

And as he thus ended, he felt suddenly as if he himself were restored to
the perception and the joy of the Nature and the World around him; the
NIGHT had vanished from his soul--he inhaled the balm and freshness
of the air--he comprehended the delight which the liberal June was
scattering over the earth--he looked above, and his eyes were suffused
with pleasure, at the smile of the soft blue skies. The MORNING became,
as it were, a part of his own being; and he felt that as the world in
spite of the storms is fair, so in spite of evil God is good. He walked
on--he passed the bridge, but his step was no more the same,--he forgot
his rags. Why should he be ashamed? And thus, in the very flush of this
new and strange elation and elasticity of spirit, he came unawares upon
a group of young men, lounging before the porch of one of the chief
hotels in that splendid Rue de Rivoli, wherein Wealth and the English
have made their homes. A groom, mounted, was leading another horse
up and down the road, and the young men were making their comments of
approbation upon both the horses, especially the one led, which was,
indeed, of uncommon beauty and great value. Even Morton, in whom the
boyish passion of his earlier life yet existed, paused to turn his
experienced and admiring eye upon the stately shape and pace of the
noble animal, and as he did so, a name too well remembered came upon his
ear.

"Certainly, Arthur Beaufort is the most enviable fellow in Europe."

"Why, yes," said another of the young men; "he has plenty of money--is
good-looking, devilish good-natured, clever, and spends like a prince."

"Has the best horses!"

"The best luck at roulette!"

"The prettiest girls in love with him!"

"And no one enjoys life more. Ah! here he is!"

The group parted as a light, graceful figure came out