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become an ally in your nefarious practices I had never by word-never by deed, forfeited which every man who reveres the name of man, holds dearer than his existence-I had never forfeited the feelings of honour, the consciousness of self respect. Young and inexperienced in the vices and villainy of the world you sought me as your victim— made me your prey; by the artful expedients of dissimulation and a speciously pretended friendship I was led step by step to pander to your intrigues, until I ultimately have become as darkened as yourselves—aye, and, to my shame until I have been rendered the duped accomplice to crimes for which many have paid the expiation with their lives! But if you nowyou whom I fear not to reproach-whom I openly confront-and, too, whom I in all the bitterness of self-accusation for ever

despise, eternally denounce-if you have within your foul and corrupt hearts no compunction-no remorse-if every emotion in the shape of honour and honesty-if all manliness and generosity have forsaken you-if

no desire for atonement-no hope for reformation ever for a moment light up the dark depths of your guilty, your polluted bosoms, let me tell you that O'Conner Fitzgerald will no longer disgrace the ancient name his actions have so long sullied, and which it hath once been his pride to inherit! He will now flee the soil where his criminalities have been perpetrated, and try in other lands to earn a subsistence by honesty and toil, and the last words he can ever address to you, are, that he disclaims you as villains!"

The tone, the manner, the earnestness, the gesticulations, as he held the partially opened door in his hand, and thus delivered himself, were such as to electrify the Count and his Lordship. The denunciatory anger, the vehemence, the fury depicted in the speaker's face, imparted an awe to the astonished hearers-they sat breathless, transfixed! Puffendoff's cheek was pale with rage, and Lord Squanderfield was abashedoverwhelmed! Such a chastising declaration, such an unhesitating accusation of their guilt, and coming not only unexpectedly, but

from one who had even been a sharer in their crimes, knee-bound, tongue-tied them in very consternation; and when Puffendoff beheld the fiendish wrath which fired from the accuser's eye, he trembled as if an evil spirit in the personelle of a recent friend had risen before him to pronounce his condemnation. Squanderfield, like his companion, and like all smitten by an evil conscience, was cravenly silenced, dastardly subdued. For a few moments they sat speechless, and it was not till the loud slam of the front door indicated the departure of Fitzgerald from the house that the Count broke silence.

"Such is the ingratitude of the world, and those for whom you have been most solicitous are too often the most ungrateful. How frequently I have been the means immediately or indirectly of lining the rascal's purse, and his betrayal is the return."

Thus, in a self-possessed and deliberate tone, did the Count express himself. It was obvious, however, that the words of Fitzgerald had pierced him to the quick. He had not the power to blusteringly rage, and

The truth-the

passionately vent his anger. fearful truth had been told him, and he was overcome by the horrors of an upbraiding conscience and "conscience makes cowards of us all!"

"Never mind the young fool, let us divide the spoil," answered his Lordship. "The babbler may in his spite go and tell our locale and—”

"And what's the odds ?" asked his Lordship interruptingly. "No legal measure

can be brought to bear upon us."

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Perhaps it cannot. Law is feeble without proofs; but 'twill be politic for me without delay, to start on a continental tour."

The twain in a business-like manner counted the money, and after dividing it and settling some small loans, which had in emergencies been granted to each other, they marched off to a neighbouring tavern to discuss the merits of a good dinner, and restore that mental equilibrium which this rupture had for a time destroyed, by means of a generous imbibition of wine-rosy wine.

It may seem odd to the reader when pe

rusing the course of our narrative, that Puffendoff had now ceased to talk grandiloquently, and forgot in pompous tone to elongate his syllables. The truth is that such ingenuity, and these kind of paltry expedients, were not indicated, and of course to his own bosom companions he could descend to commonplace things and common-place expressions. It was his wont to impiously boast that he could whenever he pleased become, like the great apostolic convert of Tarsus, all things to all men. It might be added also, that his glory was in his shame.

END OF VOL. II

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