eming, as he went, to float above
the pavement; and there, in the mouth of the entry, he found a man in a
sleeved waistcoat, gravely chewing a straw. He passed him by, and twice
patrolled the entry, scouting for the barest chance; but the man had
faced about and continued to observe him curiously.

Another hope was gone. M'Guire re-issued from the entry, still followed
by the wondering eyes of the man in the sleeved waistcoat. He once more
consulted his watch: there were but fourteen minutes left to him. At
that, it seemed as if a sudden, genial heat were spread about his brain;
for a second or two, he saw the world as red as blood; and thereafter
entered into a complete possession of himself, with an incredible
cheerfulness of spirits, prompting him to sing and chuckle as he walked.
And yet this mirth seemed to belong to things external; and within, like
a black and leaden-heavy kernel, he was conscious of the weight upon his
soul.

"I care for nobody, no, not I,
And nobody cares for me,"

he sang, and laughed at the appropriate burthen, so that the passengers
stared upon him on the street. And still the warmth seemed to increase
and to become more genial. What was life? he considered, and what he,
M'Guire? What even Erin, our green Erin? All seemed so incalculably
little that he smiled as he looked down upon it. He would have given
years, had he possessed them, for a glass of spirits; but time failed,
and he must deny himself this last indulgence.

At the corner of the Haymarket, he very jauntily hailed a hansom cab;
jumped in; bade the fellow drive him to a part of the Embankment, which
he named; and as soon as the vehicle was in motion, concealed the bag as
completely as he could under the vantage of the apron, and once more
drew out his watch. So he rode for five interminable minutes, his heart
in his mouth at every jolt, scarce able to possess his terrors, yet
fearing to wake the attention of the driver by too obvious a change of
plan, and willing, if possible, to leave him time to forget the
Gladstone bag.

At length, at the head of some stairs on the Embankment, he hailed; the
cab was stopped; and he alighted--with how glad a heart! He thrust his
hand into his pocket. All was now over; he had saved his life; nor that
alone, but he had engineered a striking act of dynamite; for what could
be more pictorial, what more effective, than the explosion of a hansom
cab, as it sped rapidly along the streets of