table, sat Philip Morton. The truth had exceeded his
darkest suspicions. He had consented to take the oath not to divulge
what was to be given to his survey; and when, led into that vault, the
bandage was taken from his eyes, it was some minutes before he could
fully comprehend the desperate and criminal occupations of the wild
forms amidst which towered the burly stature of his benefactor. As the
truth slowly grew upon him, he shrank from the side of Gawtrey; but,
deep compassion for his friend's degradation swallowing up the horror of
the trade, he flung himself on one of the rude seats, and felt that the
bond between them was indeed broken, and that the next morning he should
be again alone in the world. Still, as the obscene jests, the fearful
oaths, that from time to time rang through the vault, came on his ear,
he cast his haughty eye in such disdain over the groups, that Gawtrey,
observing him, trembled for his safety; and nothing but Philip's sense
of his own impotence, and the brave, not timorous, desire not to perish
by such hands, kept silent the fiery denunciations of a nature still
proud and honest, that quivered on his lips. All present were armed with
pistols and cutlasses except Morton, who suffered the weapons presented
to him to lie unheeded on the table.

"Courage, mes amis!" said Gawtrey, closing his book,--"Courage!--a few
months more, and we shall have made enough to retire upon, and enjoy
ourselves for the rest of the days. Where is Birnie?"

"Did he not tell you?" said one of the artisans, looking up. "He has
found out the cleverest hand in France, the very fellow who helped
Bouchard in all his five-franc pieces. He has promised to bring him
to-night."

"Ay, I remember," returned Gawtrey, "he told me this morning,--he is a
famous decoy!"

"I think so, indeed!" quoth a coiner; "for he caught you, the best
head to our hands that ever les industriels were blessed with--sacre
fichtre!"

"Flatterer!" said Gawtrey, coming from the desk to the table, and
pouring out wine from one of the bottles into a huge flagon--"To your
healths!"

Here the door slided back, and Birnie glided in.

"Where is your booty, mon brave?" said Gawtrey. "We only coin money; you
coin men, stamp with your own seal, and send them current to the devil!"

The coiners, who liked Birnie's ability (for the ci-devant engraver was
of admirable skill in their craft), but who hated his joyless manners,
laughed at this taunt, whi