the correctness of
his conviction. Though he were to be shipwrecked for ever, even
that seemed to be preferable to supposing that he had been wrong.
Nevertheless, he loved his wife dearly, and, in the white heat of his
anger endeavoured to be merciful to her. When Stanbury accused him
of severity, he would not condescend to defend himself; but he told
himself then of his great mercy. Was he not as fond of his own boy
as any other father, and had he not allowed her to take the child
because he had felt that a mother's love was more imperious, more
craving in its nature, than the love of a father? Had that been
severe? And had he not resolved to allow her every comfort which
her unfortunate position,--the self-imposed misfortune of her
position,--would allow her to enjoy? She had come to him without
a shilling; and yet, bad as her treatment of him had been, he was
willing to give enough not only to support her, but her sister also,
with every comfort. Severe! No; that, at least, was an undeserved
accusation. He had been anything but severe. Foolish he might have
been, in taking a wife from a home in which she had been unable to
learn the discretion of a matron; too trusting he had been, and too
generous,--but certainly not severe. But, of course, as he said to
himself, a young man like Stanbury would take the part of a woman
with whose sister he was in love. Then he turned his thoughts upon
Bozzle, and there came over him a crushing feeling of ignominy,
shame, moral dirt, and utter degradation, as he reconsidered his
dealings with that ingenious gentleman. He was paying a rogue to
watch the steps of a man whom he hated, to pry into the home secrets,
to read the letters, to bribe the servants, to record the movements
of this rival, this successful rival, in his wife's affections! It
was a filthy thing,--and yet what could he do? Gentlemen of old, his
own grandfather, or his father, would have taken such a fellow as
Colonel Osborne by the throat and have caned him, and afterwards
would have shot him, or have stood to be shot. All that was changed
now,--but it was not his fault that it was changed. He was willing
enough to risk his life, could any opportunity of risking it in this
cause be obtained for him. But were he to cudgel Colonel Osborne,
he would be simply arrested, and he would then be told that he had
disgraced himself foully by striking a man old enough to be his
father!

How was he to have avoided the employme