e. I was mistaken: old Dawson had tied
up the property so tightly, that the young one could not scrape enough
to pay his debts; accordingly, before he came to town, he gave up his
life interest in the property to his creditors. However that be, Master
Dawson seemed at the top of Fortune's wheel. He kept his horses, and
sported the set to champagne and venison; in short, there would have
been no end to his extravagance, had not Thornton sucked him like a
leech.

"It was about that time, that I asked Dawson for a trifle to keep me
from jail; for I was ill in bed, and could not help myself. Will you
believe, Sir, that the rascal told me to go and be d--d, and Thornton
said amen? I did not forget the ingratitude of my protege, though when
I recovered I appeared entirely to do so. No sooner could I walk about,
than I relieved all my necessities. He is but a fool who starves, with
all London before him. In proportion as my finances increased, Dawson's
visibly decayed. With them, decreased also his spirits. He became
pensive and downcast; never joined any of our parties, and gradually
grew quite a useless member of the corporation. To add to his
melancholy, he was one morning present at the execution of an
unfortunate associate of ours: this made a deep impression upon him;
from that moment, he became thoroughly moody and despondent. He was
frequently heard talking to himself, could not endure to be left alone
in the dark, and began rapidly to pine away.

"One night, when he and I were seated together, he asked me if I never
repented of my sins, and then added, with a groan, that I had never
committed the heinous crime he had. I pressed him to confess, but he
would not. However, I coupled that half avowal with his sudden riches
and the mysterious circumstances of Sir John Tyrrell's death, and dark
suspicions came into my mind. At that time, and indeed ever since Dawson
re-appeared, we were often in the habit of discussing the notorious
murder which then engrossed public attention; and as Dawson and Thornton
had been witnesses on the inquest, we frequently referred to them
respecting it. Dawson always turned pale, and avoided the subject;
Thornton, on the contrary, brazened it out with his usual impudence.
Dawson's aversion to the mention of the murder now came into my
remembrance with double weight to strengthen my suspicions; and, on
conversing with one or two of our comrades, I found that my doubts
were more than shared, a