him, but he had not done
so, and Guly grew restless and anxious in wondering where he could have
gone, and in what way he might be occupied.

Never in all the hurry and excitement in which he had been thrown, never
in all the trouble and apprehension which had so early burdened his
young heart, had Guly forgotten his mother's parting injunctions, her
tears, her sorrow, or her counsel. Their memory had burned in his bosom
with a steady beacon blaze, and he had watched and guarded the flame
even as did the ancients their sacred fires.

Now, as he lay pondering on his brother's danger, he felt that he could
not sleep happily, conscious of a duty unperformed, and he determined to
rise and go in search of him. As he crossed the floor to find his
clothes, he struck his foot against some light object, which went half
way across the room with the strong and sudden impetus he had given it.
He remembered that the lamp they had used the night before was left upon
the floor beside the bed, and had probably not been removed. Glad to
gain a light, he groped about until he found it, struck a match, and the
lamp's feeble blaze illuminated some portion of the surrounding gloom.
He was partially dressed when he paused to listen, sure that he heard
the murmur of excited voices coming from the store below.

He threw a white flannel dressing gown about him with facings of pale
blue silk, and cord and tassel of the same delicate hue, bearing
evidence of its being a relic of better days. Scarce knowing what he
did, the boy took the lamp in one hand and his Bible in the other, and
passed forth from the room; the door, covered with its gay
advertisements, swinging solemnly, shut behind him, as if it partook of
the anxious sorrow of that youthful breast.

With firm step Guly went down the winding stairs. He descended slowly,
and the voices he heard grew more distinct with every step. As he gained
the last turn in the staircase, he stood in view of the whole main part
of the store, and stopped, looking at the scene before him in sad
astonishment.

Between the counters, about half way through the store, was a small deal
table, containing a lamp, four hands of cards just dealt, and several
wine glasses partially emptied of their contents. On one of the counters
stood a number of bottles; some empty, some half filled, and one as yet
unopened. Arthur was seated at the head of the table with a small pile
of gold beside him, and his face flushed