seized the golden prize. With tears of real or feigned gratitude
he left the house, and Anthony had leisure to reflect upon what he had
done.

The more he pondered over the rash act, the more imprudent and criminal
it appeared; and when, by the next post, he received a letter from
Frederic, informing him that he had made a very advantageous purchase of
land, and requested him to transmit the money he had left in his
keeping, his misery was complete.

"Unfortunate Anthony!" he cried. "Into what new dangers will your
unhappy destiny hurry you!"

Snatching up his hat, he rushed forth in quest of his unprincipled
relative.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Strange voices still are ringing in mine ears,
Something of shame, of anguish, and reproach;
My brain is dark, I have forgot it all.--S.M.

In the miserable attic over the kitchen in the public-house already
described, there was a sound of deep, half-suppressed, passionate
weeping--a young mother weeping for her first-born, who would not be
pacified. The deepest fountain of love in the human heart had been
stirred; its hallowed sources abused, and violently broken up; and the
shock had been too great for the injured possessor to bear patiently.
Her very reason had yielded to the blow, and she lamented her loss, as a
forward child laments the loss of some favorite plaything. Had she not
been a creature of passionate impulses, the death of this babe of shame
would have brought a stern joy to her bereaved mind. She would have
wept--for nature speaks from the heart in tears; but she would have
blessed God that He had removed the innocent cause of her distress from
being a partaker of her guilt, a sharer of her infamy, a lasting source
of regret and sorrow.

Mary Mathews had looked forward with intense desire for the birth of
this child. It would be something for her to love and cling
to--something for whose sake she would be content to live--for whom she
could work and toil; who would meet her with smiles, and feel its
dependence upon her exertions. She thought, too, that Godfrey would
love her once more, for his infant's sake. Rash girl! She had yet to
learn that the love of man never returns to the forsaken object of his
selfish gratification.

The night before this event took place, violent words had arisen between
Mary and her brother. The ruffian was partially intoxicated, and urged
on by the infuriated spirit of intemperance, regardless of the
entreaties