nergies, be denied to me, a son, though in rags, I will
give him wealth!--a son, though ignorant as the merest boor, I will
pour into his brain my dark wisdom! A son! a son! my heart swells at
the word. Ah, you sneer! Yes, my heart swells, but not with the mawkish
fondness of a feeble mother. In a son, I shall live again,--transmigrate
from this tortured and horrible life of mine; drink back my youth.
In him I shall rise from my fall,--strong in his power, great in his
grandeur. It is because I was born a woman,--had woman's poor passions
and infirm weakness,--that I am what I am. I would transfer myself into
the soul of man,--man, who has the strength to act, and the privilege to
rise. Into the bronze of man's nature I would pour the experience which
has broken, with its fierce elements, the puny vessel of clay. Yes,
Gabriel, in return for all I have done and sacrificed for you, I ask
but co-operation in that one hope of my shattered and storm-beat being.
Bear, forbear, await; risk not that hope by some wretched, peddling
crime which will bring on us both detection,--some wanton revelry in
guilt, which is not worth the terror that treads upon its heels."

"You forget," answered Varney, with a kind of submissive
sullenness,--for whatever had passed between these two persons in
their secret and fearful intimacy, there was still a power in Lucretia,
surviving her fall amidst the fiends, that impressed Varney with the
only respect he felt for man or woman,--"you forget strangely the nature
of our elaborate and master project when you speak of 'peddling crime,'
or 'wanton revelry' in guilt! You forget, too, how every hour that we
waste deepens the peril that surrounds me, and may sweep from your side
the sole companion that can aid you in your objects,--nay, without whom
they must wholly fail. Let me speak first of that most urgent danger,
for your memory seems short and troubled, since you have learned only to
hope the recovery of your son. If this man Stubmore, in whom the trust
created by my uncle's will is now vested, once comes to town, once
begins to bustle about his accursed projects of transferring the money
from the Bank of England, I tell you again and again that my forgery on
the bank will be detected, and that transportation will be the smallest
penalty inflicted. Part of the forgery, as you know, was committed on
your behalf, to find the moneys necessary for the research for your
son,--committed on the clear und