rn falsely, and perverted facts. I have no proof of their
guilt. Would the world believe my statements? Would it not appear like
the wolf accusing the lamb? For my poor uncle's sake I am ready to
suffer; and for this cause I employed no counsel to plead on my behalf;
I would rather die myself than be the means of bringing to the scaffold
the only son that he adored. Poor Algernon! I have paid a heavy debt for
his generosity to me. Yes," he continued, more cheerfully, "I will leave
Godfrey to enjoy his ill-gotten wealth, nor waste the few hours which
now remain to me on earth in vain regrets. How is it with the dear
Clary? How has she borne up against this dreadful blow?"

Frederic's sole answer was a mournful glance at the sables in which he
was clad. Anthony comprehended in a moment the meaning of that sad, sad
look. "She is gone," he said--"she, the beautiful--the innocent. Yes,
yes--I knew it would kill her, the idea of my guilt. Alas! poor Clary!"

"She never thought you guilty," said Frederic, wiping his eyes. "She
bade me give you this letter, written with her dying hand, to convince
you that she believed you innocent. Her faith towards you was as strong
as death; her love for you snapped asunder the fragile threads that held
her to life. But she is happy. Dear child! She is better off than those
who weep her loss. And you, Anthony, you--the idol of her fond young
heart--will receive her welcome to that glorious country, of which, I
trust, she is now the bright inhabitant."

"And she died of grief. Died--because others suspected of crime the man
she loved. Oh, Clary! Clary! how unworthy was I of your love! You knew I
loved another, yet it did not diminish aught of your friendship, your
pure devotion to me! Oh, that I had your faith--your love!"

He covered his face with his hands, and both were silent for a long
time.

"Frederic, we must part," said Anthony, at length raising his head.
"Beloved friend, we must part for ever!"

"I shall see you again to-morrow."

"What! on the scaffold?"

"Aye, on the scaffold! Your place of martyrdom."

"This is friendship indeed. Time may one day prove to you that Anthony
Hurdlestone was not unworthy of your love."

Frederic burst into tears afresh, and wringing Anthony's hand, hurried
from the cell; and the prisoner was once more left alone to commune with
his own thoughts, and prepare for the awful change that awaited him.

His spirit, weaned as it was from the thin