m smiled.

"Of course, uncle," he said quietly, as a feeling of pity for the wreck
before him filled his breast, "I suppose I was very stupid, and made you
cross."

"He does not know, he does not know," groaned James Brandon, as he clung
to the boy's hand, "and I must tell him. Tom, my boy, it was a sore
temptation, and I did not resist it. I robbed you, my boy, dreadfully.
Here, take these, it is to make amends: deeds of some property, my boy,
and the mortgage of some money I have lent--nearly five thousand pounds,
my boy, and all yours by rights."

"Mine!" cried Tom, startled out of his calmness by the surprise.

"Yes, all yours, my boy. Your poor mother confided it to my care, Tom,
for you, and I was tempted, and kept it all back. It was a fraud, Tom,
and I am a criminal. I could not die with that on my conscience. Tell
me you forgive me, Tom, before it is too late."

Tom gazed at the convulsed face before him with a look of anger which
changed into pity, and then to disgust.

"Do you hear me, boy? You must, you shall forgive me. Don't you see I
am almost a dying man?"

"My mother trusted that all to you, and you sto--kept it back, uncle,"
said Tom sternly.

"Yes, my boy; yes, my boy. You are quite right--stole it all, robbed
you--an orphan. But I'm punished, Tom. I haven't had a happy hour
since; and you see these--these deeds in the strong cloth-lined
envelope, tied up with green silk--it is all yours, my boy. Take it and
keep it till you come of age, and then it is yours to do with as you
like. But tell me you forgive me."

Tom was silent, and his uncle groaned.

"Am I to go down on my knees to you?" he cried.

"No, uncle," said Tom sadly; "and I forgive you."

"Ah!" cried the wretched man, "at last--at last!" and he burst out into
an hysterical fit of sobbing, which was painful in the extreme to the
listener, as he stood gazing down, with the great envelope in his hand,
at the broken, wretched man before him, till the invalid looked up
sharply.

"Put it away--in your jacket, boy, and never let me see it again. Give
it to your uncle to take care of for you till you come of age. I shall
be dead and gone then, Tom; but you will have forgiven me, and I shall
be at rest."

Tom said nothing, for his head was in a whirl, but he quietly buttoned
up the packet in his breast.

"Have you told Uncle Richard, sir?" he said, at last.

"Told him? No, no one but you, boy."

"I must tell him