rant person, as far beneath Mr. May's level as
it is possible to imagine, whose handwriting it was very strange to see
on anything but a bill. He fixed his eyes upon it mechanically; he had
come, as it were, to the end of all things in those feverish musings; he
had searched through his whole known world for help, and found there
nothing and nobody to help him. Those whom he had once relied on were
exhausted long ago; his friends had all dropped off from him, as far, at
least, as money was concerned. Some of them might put out a hand to keep
him and his children from starvation even now, but to pay Cotsdean's
bill, never. There was no help anywhere, nor any hope. Natural ways and
means were all exhausted, and though he was a clergyman, he had no such
faith in the supernatural as to hope much for the succour of Heaven.
Heaven! what could Heaven do for him? Bank-notes did not drop down out
of the skies. There had been a time when he had felt full faith in
"Providence;" but he seemed to have nothing to expect now from that
quarter more than from any other. Samuel Tozer! why did that name always
come uppermost, staring into his very eyes? It was a curious signature,
the handwriting very rude and unrefined, with odd, illiterate dashes,
and yet with a kind of rough character in it, easy to identify, not
difficult to copy--

What was it that brought beads of moisture all at once to Mr. May's
forehead? He started up suddenly, pushing his chair with a hoarse
exclamation, and walked up and down the room quickly, as if trying to
escape from something. His heart jumped up in his breast, like a thing
possessed of separate life, and thumped against his side, and beat with
loud pulsations in his ears. When he caught sight of himself in the
mirror over the mantelpiece, he started as if he had seen a ghost. Some
one else seemed to see him; seemed to pounce upon and seize him out of
that glass. He retreated from the reach of it, almost staggering; then
he returned to his table. What thought was it that had struck him so
wildly, like a sudden squall upon a boat? He sat down, and covered his
face with his hands; then putting out one finger, stealthily drew the
paper towards him, and studied it closely from under the shadow of the
unmoved hand, which half-supported, half-covered his face. Well! after
all, what would be the harm? A gain of three months' time, during which
every sort of arrangement could be made so nicely; supplies got
anywhe