en your mind to me; assuring yourself, that whatever may be your
disclosure, you will have my sincere sympathy and commiseration. I may
be better able to advise with you, should counsel be necessary, than
others, from my knowledge of your character and temperament. I would not
anticipate evil, and am, perhaps, unnecessarily apprehensive. But I own,
I am startled at the incoherence of your expressions, coupled with your
sudden and almost mysterious appearance at this distressing conjuncture.
Answer me: has your return been the result of mere accident? is it to be
considered one of those singular circumstances which almost look like
fate, and baffle our comprehension? or were you nearer home than we
expected, and received the news of your father's demise through some
channel unknown to us? Satisfy my curiosity, I beg of you, upon this
point."

"Your curiosity, my dear sir," replied Ranulph, gravely and sadly, "will
not be decreased, when I tell you, that my return has neither been the
work of chance,--for I came, fully anticipating the dread event, which I
find realized,--nor has it been occasioned by any intelligence derived
from yourself, or others. It was only, indeed, upon my arrival here that
I received full confirmation of my apprehensions. I had another, a more
terrible summons to return."

"What summons? you perplex me!" exclaimed Small, gazing with some
misgiving into the face of his young friend.

"I am myself perplexed--sorely perplexed," returned Ranulph. "I have
much to relate; but I pray you bear with me to the end. I have that on
my mind which, like guilt, must be revealed."

"Speak, then, fearlessly to me," said Small, affectionately pressing
Ranulph's hand, "and assure yourself, beforehand, of my sympathy."

"It will be necessary," said Ranulph, "to preface my narrative by some
slight allusion to certain painful events--and yet I know not why I
should call them painful, excepting in their consequences--which
influenced my conduct in my final interview between my father and
myself--an interview which occasioned my departure for the
Continent--and which was of a character so dreadful, that I would not
even revert to it, were it not a necessary preliminary to the
circumstance I am about to detail.

"When I left Oxford, I passed a few weeks alone, in London. A college
friend, whom I accidentally met, introduced me, during a promenade in
St. James's Park, to some acquaintances of his own, who were taking