im
as this. Brought into the world in a gutter, without father or mother,
with no good thing ever done for him, he was now a member of the
British Parliament, and member for one of the first cities in the
empire. Ignorant as he was he understood the magnitude of the
achievement, and dismayed as he was as to his present position, still
at this moment he enjoyed keenly a certain amount of elation. Of
course he had committed forgery,--of course he had committed robbery.
That, indeed, was nothing, for he had been cheating and forging and
stealing all his life. Of course he was in danger of almost immediate
detection and punishment. He hardly hoped that the evil day would be
very much longer protracted, and yet he enjoyed his triumph. Whatever
they might do, quick as they might be, they could hardly prevent his
taking his seat in the House of Commons. Then if they sent him to
penal servitude for life, they would have to say that they had so
treated the member for Westminster!

He drank a bottle of claret, and then got some brandy-and-water. In
such troubles as were coming upon him now, he would hardly get
sufficient support from wine. He knew that he had better not drink;--
that is, he had better not drink, supposing the world to be free to
him for his own work and his own enjoyment. But if the world were no
longer free to him, if he were really coming to penal servitude and
annihilation,--then why should he not drink while the time lasted? An
hour of triumphant joy might be an eternity to a man, if the man's
imagination were strong enough so make him so regard his hour. He
therefore took his brandy-and-water freely, and as he took it he was
able to throw his fears behind him, and to assure himself that, after
all, he might even yet escape from his bondages. No;--he would drink
no more. This he said to himself as he filled another beaker. He would
work instead. He would put his shoulder to the wheel, and would yet
conquer his enemies. It would not be so easy to convict a member for
Westminster,--especially if money were spent freely. Was he not the man
who, at his own cost, had entertained the Emperor of China? Would not
that be remembered in his favour? Would not men be unwilling to punish
the man who had received at his own table all the Princes of the land,
and the Prime Minister, and all the Ministers? To convict him would be
a national disgrace. He fully realized all this as he lifted the glass
to his mouth, and puffed