of the question) or a line from her, which, in
referring to any circumstances while under his roof that could only be
known to her and himself, should convince him that the letter was from
her hand, assuring him that it was for Waife's benefit and at her prayer
that he should bestir himself in search for her grandfather, and that
he might implicitly trust to me, he would do all he could to help us. So
far, then, so good. But I have now more to say, and that is in reference
to Sophy herself. While we are tracking her grandfather, the peril to
her is not lessened. Never was that peril thoroughly brought before
my eyes until I had heard actually from the police agent the dreadful
character and associations of the man who can claim her in a fathers
name. Waife, it is true, had told you that his son was profligate,
spendthrift, lawless--sought her, not from natural affection, but as
an instrument to be used, roughly and coarsely, for the purpose of
extorting money from Mr. Darrell. But this stops far short of the
terrible reality. Imagine the effect on her nerves, so depressed as they
now are, nay, on her very life, should this audacious miscreant force
himself here and say, 'Come with me, you are my child.' And are we quite
sure that out of some refining nobleness of conscience she might not
imagine it her duty to obey, and to follow him? The more abject and
friendless his condition, the more she might deem it her duty to be by
his side. I have studied her from her childhood. She is capable of
any error in judgment, if it be made to appear a martyr's devoted
self-sacrifice. You may well shudder, my dear cousin. But grant that she
were swayed by us and by the argument that so to act would betray
and kill her beloved grandfather, still, in resisting this ruffian's
paternal authority, what violent and painful scenes might ensue! What
dreadful publicity to be attached for ever to her name! Nor is this all.
Grant that her father does not discover her, but that he is led by
his associates into some criminal offence, and suffers by the law--her
relationship, both to him from whom you would guard her, and to him
whose hearth you have so tenderly reared her to grace, suddenly dragged
to day--would not the shame kill her? And in that disclosure how keen
would be the anguish of Darrell!"

"Oh, heavens!" cried Caroline Montfort, white as ashes and wringing her
hands, "you freeze me with terror. But this man cannot be so fallen as
you d