lled me onwards. I quitted the salon, and was on the escalier before
the gamesters had descended. Warburton was, indeed, but a few steps
before me; the stairs were but very dimly lighted by one expiring lamp;
he did not turn round to see me, and was probably too much engrossed to
hear me.

"You may yet have a favourable reverse," said he to Tyrrell.

"Impossible!" replied the latter, in a tone of such deep anguish, that
it thrilled me to the very heart. "I am an utter beggar--I have nothing
in the world--I have no expectation but to starve!"

While he was saying this, I perceived by the faint and uncertain light,
that Warburton's hand was raised to his own countenance.

"Have you no hope--no spot wherein to look for comfort--is beggary your
absolute and only possible resource from famine?" he replied, in a low
and suppressed tone.

At that moment we were just descending into the court-yard. Warburton
was but one step behind Tyrrell: the latter made no answer; but as he
passed from the dark staircase into the clear moonlight of the court, I
caught a glimpse of the big tears which rolled heavily and silently down
his cheeks. Warburton laid his hand upon him.

"Turn," he cried, suddenly, "your cup is not yet full--look upon me--and
remember!"

I pressed forward--the light shone full upon the countenance of the
speaker--the dark hair was gone--my suspicions were true--I discovered
at one glance the bright locks and lofty brow of Reginald Glanville.
Slowly Tyrrell gazed, as if he were endeavouring to repel some terrible
remembrance, which gathered, with every instant, more fearfully upon
him; until, as the stern countenance of Glanville grew darker and darker
in its mingled scorn and defiance, he uttered one low cry, and sank
senseless upon the earth.

CHAPTER XXXI.

Well, he is gone, and with him go these thoughts.--Shakspeare.

What ho! for England!--Shakspeare.

I have always had an insuperable horror of being placed in what the
vulgar call a predicament. In a predicament I was most certainly placed
at the present moment. A man at my feet in a fit--the cause of it having
very wisely disappeared, devolving upon me the charge of watching,
recovering, and conducting home the afflicted person--made a
concatenation of disagreeable circumstances, as much unsuited to
the temper of Henry Pelham, as his evil fortune could possibly have
contrived.

After a short pause of deliberation, I knocked up the porter, p