"You are welcome so to do, Mr. Hurdlestone," said Anthony, proudly; "the
education which I have received at your brother's expense will place me
above want. Farewell! and may God judge between us!"

With a heavy heart, Anthony returned to ----. He saw a crowd collected
round the jail, and forcing his way to the entrance, was met by Godfrey;
his face was deadly pale, and his lips quivered as he addressed his
cousin.

"You are too late, Anthony--'tis all over. My poor father--."

He turned away, for his heart, at that time, was not wholly dead to the
feelings common to our nature. He could not conclude the sentence.
Anthony instantly comprehended his meaning, and rushed past him into the
room which had been appropriated to his uncle's use.

And there, stretched upon that mean bed, never to rise up, or whistle to
hawk or hound, lay the generous, reckless Algernon Hurdlestone. His face
wore a placid smile; his grey hair hung in solemn masses round his open,
candid brow; and he looked as if he had bidden the cares and sorrows of
time a long good-night, and had fallen into a deep, tranquil sleep.

A tall man stood beside the bed, gazing sadly and earnestly upon the
face of the deceased. Anthony did not heed him--the arrow was in his
heart. The sight of his dead uncle--his best, his dearest, his only
friend--had blinded him to all else upon earth. With a cry of deep and
heart-uttered sorrow, he flung himself upon the breast of the dead, and
wept with all the passionate, uncontrollable anguish which a final
separation from the beloved wrings from a devoted woman's heart.

"Poor lad! how dearly he loved him!" remarked a voice near him,
addressing the person who had occupied the room when Anthony first
entered. It was Mr. Grant, the rector of the parish, who spoke.

"I hope this sudden bereavement will serve him as a warning to amend his
own evil ways," returned his companion, who happened to be no other than
Captain Whitmore, as he left the apartment.

The voice roused Anthony from his trance of grief, and stung by the
unmerited reproach, which he felt was misplaced, even if deserved, in an
hour like that, he raised his dark eyes, flashing through the tears that
blinded them, to demand of the Captain an explanation. But the
self-elected monitor was gone; and the unhappy youth again bowed his
head, and wept upon the bosom of the dead.

"Anthony, be comforted," said the kind clergyman, taking his young
friend's hand. "You