id
not involve making terms with Lord Dunoran beforehand, or palliating or
disguising what he had done. So on he went.

'I believe in luck, Sir, and there's the sum of my creed. I was wrong in
taking that money from Beauclerc _when_ I did, 'twas in the midst of a
dismal run of ill-fortune. There was nothing unfair in taking it,
though. The man was a cheat. It was not really his, and no one could
tell to whom it belonged; 'twas no more his because I had found it in
his pocket than if I had found it in a barrel on the high seas. I killed
him to prevent his killing me. Precisely the same motive, though in your
case neither so reasonable nor so justifiable, as that on which, in the
name of justice, which means only the collective selfishness of my
fellow-creatures, you design in cool blood to put me publicly to death.
'Tis only that you, gentlemen, think it contributes to your safety.
That's the spirit of human laws. I applaud and I adopt it in my own
case. Pray, Sir' (to Mr. Armstrong), 'do me the honour to try this
snuff, 'tis real French rappee.

'But, Sir, though I have had to do these things, which you or any other
man of nerve would do with a sufficient motive, I never hurt any man
without a necessity for it. My money I've made fairly, though in great
measure by play, and no man can say I ever promised that which I did not
perform. 'Tis quite true I killed Beauclerc in the manner described by
Irons. That was put upon me, and I could not help it. I did right. 'Tis
also true, I killed that scoundrel Glascock, as Irons related. Shortly
after, being in trouble about money and in danger of arrest, I went
abroad, and changed my name and disguised my person.

'At Florence I was surprised to find a letter directed to Charles
Archer. You may suppose it was not agreeable. But, of course, I would
not claim it; and it went after all to him for whom it was intended.
There was actually there a Mr. Charles Archer, dying of a decline. Three
respectable English residents had made his acquaintance, knowing nothing
of him but that he was a sick countryman. When I learned all about it,
I, too, got an introduction to him; and when he died, I prevailed with
one of them to send a note signed by himself and two more to the London
lawyer who was pursuing me, simply stating that Charles Archer had died
in Florence, to their knowledge, they having seen him during his last
illness, and attended his funeral.

'I told them that he had begged m