My vanity was deeply injured, that the merchant's daughter could turn from the lord to the beggar, as I then regarded you. After your refusal of me, Alice-permit a dying man, who deeply repents and bitterly expiates the criminal injustice with which he has treated you, to call you by that name in his last moments-after your refusal of me, and your flight from your father's house, I determined to make myself master of your person at all events, if I could not have your wealth. And so I insinuated myself into your peaceful home-showed you many acts of kindness; put employment in your husband's hands, and all with a delicacy of manner which no one understood better than I. In a word, I allayed all your fears, and you soon began to regard me as a warm and disinterested friend. "Some time before that unhappy afternoon when I paid your rent,-I should tell you that I am the owner of this house, and that I bought it in order to have a firmer hold on you,—some days before that unhappy afternoon, you remember it well, do not ask me to mention it farther, a man, that man who is sitting there," he said, pointing to his accomplice," came to my lodgings, desiring to see me on pressing business. I admitted him into my presence; he informed me that he had been my father's constant attendant during the wild life he led in London, that my father had then married, (at least, so my father had in confidence informed him, for he himself had no proofs of the marriage,) legally married a poor but beautiful girl. Very shortly after the marriage a male child was born, but the mother died in child-bed. The child was confided to this man, who took it into the country to his own native village, and gave it into the care of a woman living there, together with a sum of money for its maintenance. This woman was known for the cruelty of her disposition, and it was confidently expected that her barbarity would soon put an end to the infant's existence. Almost immediately after he had thus relieved himself of his charge, he was arrested on suspicion of forgery, tried, and condemned to a long period of transportation to Australia, from whence he has only comparatively recently returned. But I am getting weak," said Mansfield, his head sinking back; "tell your own tale.” "Well, Sirs," said the man, in a harsh, gruff voice," when I got back to England I went to hunt up Mrs. Wilson; you needn't start," said he to Tom," that was her name; but she had left the village, and nobody knew where she was gone. So I came back to London and wandered about a long time, doing any little odd jobs I could pick up. Once or twice I went to his Lordship's house, but was driven away for a beggar. Well, one day, as I was sauntering about the high-road from Barnet, I met an elderly woman whose features I thought I recognized. I gazed at her intently, she looked ill and old, but still I thought I could not be mistaken. She passed without noticing me; I turned and followed, and watched her into this house. A day or two afterwards I was taken seriously ill of a fever, and, through the kindness of a benevolent person, I got into a hospital. For a long time I was unable to follow up the scent; but so soon as I was again restored to health I came here, and heard that the old woman was lying on her death-bed. I determined to see her, and ascertain whether the child still lived. I was sauntering up and down the road, thinking how it would be best to do it, when I was struck by the approach of a young man, whom I immediately recognized. Your features are too much like those of my dead master's first wife to be mistaken," said he, turning to Tom. "Then are you the man whom I noticed watching me one day?" "Yes," returned the other. "But, so far as I can recollect, you are not at all like that man." "Am I not?" said the other, quietly taking off the whiskers and moustachios; "now, perhaps, the resemblance is closer." Tom started back, surprised at the change. "Yes," he said, "I know you again now." "However, I determined to confirm my hopes that you were the same person as the child I had given her many years ago, and so I sought an opportunity of seeing her when you were away. She recognized me. I learnt from her own lips that you were the child I had given her. I disclosed your parentage to her. The old woman was fearfully excited, and I suppose the news was too much for her. She-" "Died with the secret on her lips," said Tom, interrupting him. Mansfield had been lying some time with his eyes closed. He now raised his head, and said: "This man had no proofs of my father's marriage; but still I thought it wisest to take him into my service and pay him well, so as to make it his interest to keep silence. But some time ago I received a pressing request from my lawyer here to go to his office. I went, and he then showed me a letter written by my late father to your mother, his first wife, under the name of King. This letter mentioned, strangely enough, four con clusive facts—my father's expectant inheritance to the title of Esdale, his marriage with your mother, and the church where the marriage had taken place, and also the expected birth of a child by him. I was furious with rage, and would have seized the damning letter, but Fussle kept it back. He knew it was worth much money to him. This time, Sir," said Mansfield, turning to him, "your mean spirit has worked the ends of justice, but beware, it will not always do so." Mansfield spoke bitterly. The little lawyer smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "The secret of my unlawful possession of the title and estates of Esdale was now known to two persons, and I felt the insecurity of my position. I had no moment's peace of mind, and hourly expected my downfal. I could bear it no longer, and so determined to sacrifice my title to secure my wealth, and with my wealth-oh, God! that I should have such a crime to confess-the possession of your young and innocent wife. My actions were, I think, dictated by the devil himself. Fortunately, as I then thought, all my title-deeds were in my own possession, and I forthwith sold secretly all the lands over which I had power to sell. The money, together with all the ancient family plate and jewels, I conveyed on board my yacht, which is |