amuel Axworthy! Oh! no. Why the last thing Leonard
bade me, was always to pray for him.'

'Ah!' said Tom, with bent head, and colouring cheeks; 'but who are
those for whom such as Leonard would feel bound to pray?'

There was a moment's silence, and then she said, 'His enemy! Is that
what you mean? But then he would have known it was he.'

'He was entirely convinced that so it must have been, but there was no
proof, and an unsupported accusation would only have made his own case
worse.'

'And has he confessed? has he been touched and cleared Leonard at last?'

'No; he had no space granted him. It was the receipt in your brother's
writing that was found upon him.'

'The receipt? Yes, Leonard always said the receipt would clear him!
But oh, how dreadful! He must have had it all the time. How could he
be so cruel! Oh! I never felt before that such wickedness could be;'
and she lay, looking appalled and overpowered.

'Think of your brother knowing it all, and bidding--and giving you that
injunction--' said Tom, feeling the necessity of overcoming evil with
good.

'Oh! if I had known it, I could not--I could not have been like
Leonard! And where--what has become of him?' she asked, breathlessly.
'You speak as if he was dead.'

'Yes. He was killed in a fray at a gaming-house!'

There was a long silence, first of awe, then of thankfulness plainly
beaming in her upraised eyes and transparent countenance, which Tom
watched, filled with sensations, mournful but not wholly wretched.
Shattered as she was, sinking away from her new-found happiness, it was
a precious privilege to be holding to her the longed--for draught of
joy.

'Tell me about it, please,' she presently said. 'Where--how did the
receipt come to light? Were the police told to watch for it? I want
to know whom I have to thank.'

His heart beat high, but there was a spirit within him that could not
brook any attempt to recall the promise he had pursued her with, the
promise that he would not rest till he had proved her brother's
innocence. He dreaded her even guessing any allusion to it, or
fancying he had brought the proffered price in his hand; and when he
began with, 'Can you bear to hear of the most shocking scene I ever
witnessed?' he gave no hint of his true motive in residing at Paris, of
the clue that Bilson's draft had given him in thither pursuing
Axworthy, nor of his severe struggle in relinquishing the quest. He
threw over a