ake a second application to your ungracious dad, he might, in the
hope of ridding himself of such an importunate beggar, give down the two
hundred pounds yet wanting. Such a decrease in your demand might work
wonders. What think you? Matters cannot be worse between you than they
are at present."

Anthony recalled his father's parting look--his parting words.

"To-morrow, I will do you justice if you come to me, at this hour,
to-morrow;" and hope again shed a faint glimmer in his breast. He
repeated these words to Godfrey. Had he noticed the glance which his
cousin threw towards his partner in guilt, he would have been puzzled to
read its meaning. Mathews understood it well.

"Go, by all means, Anthony. I have no doubt that his heart will relent;
that he already feels ashamed of his barbarous conduct. At all events,
it can do no harm--it may do good. Take that infamous piece of writing
in your hand, and reproach him with his treachery. My father's injured
spirit will be near you, to plead your cause, and you must be
successful."

"Yes, I will go," said Anthony. "Either he or I must yield. My mind is
made up upon the subject. Godfrey, good night."

"He is ours, Mathews," whispered Godfrey, as they left the house. "The
old man's days are numbered. Remember this hour to-morrow night!"

Glad to find himself once more alone, Anthony continued to pace the
room, revolving over in his mind his interview with his father. He felt
convinced that the old man had repented of the cruel trick he had played
him; that but for the entrance of Grenard Pike, he would have recalled
the paper and given him the sum he desired. At all events, he was
determined to see him at the hour the miser had named, and tell him,
without disguise, his thoughts upon the subject.

In the midst of all this tumult of passion, the image of Juliet glided
into his mind, and seemed to whisper peace to his perturbed spirit. "Oh,
that I had a friend to advise me in this gloomy hour, into whose
faithful bosom I could pour out my whole soul! Shall I tell Clary? Shall
I confide to the dear child my guilt and folly?" He rang the bell. Old
Ruth, half asleep, made her appearance.

"How is your mistress, Ruth?"

"Better the night, sir."

"Will you tell her that I wish very much to see her."

"You won't disturb the poor lamb, sure. Why, Mr. Anthony, she has been
in her bed these two hours. She asked after you several times during the
day, and was very uneasy at