y the post, and covered acres of canvas with dogs in worsted,
and tigers in Berlin wool. Alas! he had no such resources. Education had
supplied him with but one comfort and consolation, a cigar; and so he
smoked away incessantly: sometimes as he lounged out of the window,
after breakfast, in all the glory of an embroidered velvet cap, and a
gorgeous dressing-gown; sometimes as he sauntered in the empty saloon,
or the deserted corridors, in the weed-grown garden, in the dishabille
of a many-pocketed shooting-jacket and cork-soled shoes; now, as he
lounged along the dreary streets, or passed along the little wooden
bridge, wondering within himself how much longer a man could resist the
temptation that suggested a spring over the balustrade into the dark
pool beneath.

He had come abroad partly for Sydney's sake, partly because, having
"gone somewhat too fast" in town, an absence had become advisable. But
now, as he sauntered about the deserted streets of the little village,
not knowing how long the durance might last, without an occupation,
without a resource, both his brotherly love and prudence began to
fail him, and he wished he had remained behind, and taken the chances,
whatever they might be, of his creditors' forbearance. His moneyed
embarrassments involved nothing dishonorable; he had done no more than
what some score of very well-principled young men have done, and are
doing at this very hour, ay, good reader, and will do again, when you
and I have gone where all our moralizing will not deceive any more, he
had contracted debts, the payment of which must depend upon others; he
had borrowed what no efforts of his own could restore; he had gambled,
and lost sums totally disproportionate to his fortune; but, in all these
things, he was still within the pale of honorable conduct, at least, so
said the code under which he lived, and George believed it.

Sir Stafford, who only learned about the half of his son's liabilities,
was thunderstruck at the amount. It was scarcely a year and a half ago
that he had paid all George's debts, and they were then no trifle; and
now he saw all the old items revived and magnified, as if there was only
one beaten road to ruin, and that began at Crocky's, and ended at "the
Bench." The very names of the dramatis personae were the same. It
was Lazarus Levi lent the money, at sixty per cent; it was another
patriarch, called Gideon Masham, discounted the same. A lucky viscount
had once mor