er--petticoat
government--he'll do nothing without his sister's leave, and she hates
me like poison;' and then he thought--'it would not be much to ask Lord
Castlemallard--there's still time--to give me a month or two for the
rent, but if the old sneak thought I owed twopence, I might whistle for
the agency, and besides, faith!--I don't think he'd interfere.'

Then the clock down stairs would strike 'three,' and he felt thankful,
with a great sigh, that so much of the night was over, and yet dreaded
the morning.

And then he would con over his chances again, and think which was most
likely to give him a month or two. Old Dyle--'Bah! he's a stone, he
would not give me an hour. Or Carny, curse him, unless Lucas would move
him. And, no, Lucas is a rogue, selfish beast: he owes me his place; and
I don't think he'd stir his finger to snatch me from perdition. Or
Nutter--Nutter, indeed!--why that fiend has been waiting half the year
round to put in his distress the first hour he can.'

And then Sturk writhed round on his back, as we may suppose might St.
Anthony on his gridiron, and rolled his eye-balls up toward the dark
bed; and uttered a dismal groan, and thought of the three inexorable
fates, Carny, Nutter, and Dyle, who at that moment held among them the
measure, and the thread, and the shears of his destiny: and standing
desperately in the dark at the verge of the abyss, he mentally hurled
the three ugly spirits together into his bag, and flung them whirling
through the mirk into the lake that burns with fire and brimstone.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

TELLING HOW LILIAS WALSINGHAM FOUND TWO LADIES AWAITING HER ARRIVAL AT
THE ELMS.

When Lilias Walsingham, being set down in the hall at the Elms, got out
and threw back her hood, she saw two females sitting there, who rose, as
she emerged, and bobbed a courtesy each. The elder was a slight thin
woman of fifty or upwards, dark of feature, but with large eyes, the
relics of early beauty. The other a youthful figure, an inch or two
taller, slim and round, and showing only a pair of eyes, large and dark
as the others, looking from under her red hood, earnestly and sadly as
it seemed, upon Miss Walsingham.

'Good-evening, good neighbours,' said Miss Lily in her friendly way;
'the master is in town, and won't return till to-morrow; but may be you
wish to speak to me?'

''Tis no place for the like of yous,' said old John Tracy, gruffly, for
he knew them, with the privilege