ing
further of the matter; but on the Thursday Sir Thomas came down from
London, and, showing to poor Tom a paragraph in one of the morning
papers, asked whether he knew anything of the circumstance to which
reference was made. The paragraph was as follows:--

That very bellicose young City knight who at Christmas
time got into trouble by thrashing a policeman within
an inch of his life in the streets, and who was then
incarcerated on account of his performance, again
exhibited his prowess on Tuesday night by attacking
Colonel ----, an officer than whom none in the army is
more popular,--under the portico of the Haymarket theatre.
We abstain from mentioning the officer's name,--which is,
however, known to us. The City knight again fell into the
hands of the police and was taken to the watch-house.
But Colonel ----, who knew something of his family,
accompanied him, and begged his assailant off. The officer
on duty was most unwilling to let the culprit go; but the
Colonel used all his influence and was successful. This
may be all very well between the generous Colonel and the
valiant knight. But if the young man has any friends they
had better look to him. A gentleman with such a desire
for the glories of battle must be restrained if he cannot
control his propensities when wandering about the streets
of the metropolis.

"Yes," said Tom,--who scorned to tell a lie in any matter concerning
Ayala. "It was me. I struck Colonel Stubbs, and he got me off at the
police office."

"And you're proud of what you've done?"

"No, Sir, I'm not. I'm not proud of anything. Whatever I do or
whatever I say seems to go against me."

"He didn't go against you as you call it."

"I wish he had with all my heart. I didn't ask him to get me off. I
struck him because I hated him; and whatever might have happened I
would sooner have borne it than be like this."

"You would sooner have been locked up again in prison?"

"I would sooner anything than be as I am."

"I tell you what it is, Tom," said the father. "If you remain here
any longer with this bee in your bonnet you will be locked up in a
lunatic asylum, and I shall not be able to get you out again. You
must go abroad." To this Tom made no immediate answer. Lamentable as
was his position, he still was unwilling to leave London while Ayala
was living there. Were he to consent to go away for any lengthened
period, by