d lying, and every thing that is ungrateful and
murderous. Your last action was worse than all the rest. How could you
find in your heart to revive that cruel story about Mr. Tyrrel, which
every body had agreed, out of regard to the squire, never to mention
again, and of which I know, and you know, he is as innocent as the child
unborn? There are causes and reasons, or else I could have wished from
the bottom of my soul never to have set eyes on you again."

"And you still persist in your hard thoughts of me?"

"Worse! I think worse of you than ever! Before, I thought you as bad as
man could be. I wonder from my soul what you are to do next. But you
make good the old saying, 'Needs must go, that the devil drives.'"

"And so there is never to be an end of my misfortunes! What can Mr.
Falkland contrive for me worse than the ill opinion and enmity of all
mankind?"

"Mr. Falkland contrive! He is the best friend you have in the world,
though you are the basest traitor to him. Poor man! it makes one's heart
ache to look at him; he is the very image of grief. And it is not clear
to me that it is not all owing to you. At least you have given the
finishing lift to the misfortune that was already destroying him. There
have been the devil and all to pay between him and squire Forester. The
squire is right raving mad with my master, for having outwitted him in
the matter of the trial, and saved your life. He swears that you shall
be taken up and tried all over again at the next assizes; but my master
is resolute, and I believe will carry it his own way. He says indeed
that the law will not allow squire Forester to have his will in this. To
see him ordering every thing for your benefit, and taking all your
maliciousness as mild and innocent as a lamb, and to think of your vile
proceedings against him, is a sight one shall not see again, go all the
world over. For God's sake, repent of your reprobate doings, and make
what little reparation is in your power! Think of your poor soul, before
you awake, as to be sure one of these days you will, in fire and
brimstone everlasting!"

Saying this, he held out his hand and took hold of mine. The action
seemed strange; but I at first thought it the unpremeditated result of
his solemn and well-intended adjuration. I felt however that he put
something into my hand. The next moment he quitted his hold, and
hastened from me with the swiftness of an arrow. What he had thus given
me was a bank-