the money you left
with me. Do not wholly despise me, Frederic; he looked so like my
poor uncle, I knew not how to deny him.

"This morning brought your letter. You ask for the money to be sent
to you immediately. I have it not to send; my sin has found me out.
A thief and swindler! Can it be possible that I have incurred such
dreadful guilt?

"_Night._--I have seen Godfrey--he has failed me. What shall I do?
I must go to my father; perhaps he will relent, and pity my
distress. My heart is torn with distracting doubts. Oh, that I
could pour into some faithful bosom my torturing situation! Clary
is ill--and left to myself, I am lost.

"_Midnight._--I have seen my father. What a meeting. My brain aches
while I try to recall it. At first he insulted my agony; taunted me
with my misfortunes, and finally maddened me. I cannot describe to
you what passed. Wound up to a pitch of fury, I threatened to
obtain the money by violence, if he did not write an order upon his
banker for the sum required. Cowering with fear, he complied; and
I--I, in the fullness of my heart, implored his pardon for the
language I had used, and blessed him. Yes, I blessed him, who only
a few minutes before had spurned me from his feet--had mocked at my
calamity--and cursed me in the savage malevolence of his heart.
Some feeling of remorse appeared to touch his cruel breast; as I
left the house he called after me, 'Anthony, Anthony, to-morrow
night I will do you justice.' I will go to him no more. I feel that
we have parted for ever.

"_Thursday evening._--The old man has deceived me--has jested with
my distress. I could curse him, but I have not done so. To-night we
shall have a fearful reckoning; yes, to-night he will be forced to
do me justice.

"Godfrey has been with me. He discovered the cruel trick which the
unnatural wretch who calls himself my father had played me--and he
laughed. How could he laugh at such a melancholy instance of
depravity? Godfrey should have been this man's son. In some things
they resemble each other. Yes, he laughed at the trick. Is the idea
of goodness existing in the human heart a mere dream? Are men all
devils, or have some more tact to conceal their origin than others?
I begin to suspect myself and all mankind. I will go once more to