orward, and on their testimony and that of
the stranger, whose name he found to be _Dupont_, he was thrown into
prison to await his trial. To him the whole business was an impenetrable
mystery. To us, my dear father, it is all clear as day. Poor Mrs.
Greville's fears were certainly not without foundation, and when affairs
are somewhat more quiet in Paris, I shall leave no stone unturned to
prove young Greville's perfect innocence to the public, and bring that
wretch Dupont to the same justice to which his hatred would have
condemned the son of his old companion. Alfred's agitation on hearing my
explanation of the circumstance was extreme. The errors of his father
appeared to fall heavily on him, and yet he uttered no word of reproach
on his memory. The relation of his melancholy death, and the misery in
which we found Mrs. Greville and poor Mary affected him so deeply, I
dreaded their effect on his health; but this was nothing to his
wretchedness when, by his repeated questions, he absolutely wrung from
me the tale of his sister's death, his mother's desolation: no words can
portray the extent of his self-reproach. It is misery to look upon him
now, and feel what he might have been, had his mother been indeed
permitted to exercise her rights. There is no happiness for Alfred
Greville this side of the Channel; he pines for home--for his mother's
blessing and forgiveness, and till he receives them, health will not,
cannot return.

* * * * *

In prison he remained for six long weary months, with the consciousness
that, amidst the many light companions with whom he had associated,
there was not one to whom he could appeal for friendship and assistance
in his present situation, and the thoughts of his mother and sister
returned with greater force, from the impossibility of learning anything
concerning them. The hope of escaping never left him, and, with the
assistance of a comrade, he finally effected it on the 27th of July, the
confusion of the city aiding him far more effectually than he believed
possible. He came down to Rouen in a coal-barge, so completely
exhausted, that he declared, had not the thought of England and his
mother been uppermost, he would gladly have laid down in the open
streets to die. To England he felt impelled, he scarcely knew wherefore,
save that he looked to us for the information he so ardently desired.
Our family had often been among his waking visions, and this a