nd that Dawson had frequently, when unusually
oppressed with his hypochondria, hinted at his committal of some
dreadful crime, and at his unceasing remorse for it.

"By degrees, Dawson grew worse and worse--his health decayed, he started
at a shadow--drank deeply, and spoke, in his intoxication, words that
made the hairs of our green men stand on end.

"We must not suffer this," said Thornton, whose hardy effrontery enabled
him to lord it over the jolly boys, as if he were their dimber-damber;
"his ravings and humdurgeon will unman all our youngsters." And so,
under this pretence, Thornton had the unhappy man conveyed away to a
secret asylum, known only to the chiefs of the gang, and appropriated
to the reception of persons who, from the same weakness as Dawson, were
likely to endanger others, or themselves. There many a poor wretch
has been secretly immured, and never suffered to revisit the light of
Heaven. The moon's minions, as well as the monarch's, must have their
state prisoners, and their state victims.

"Well, Sir, I shall not detain you much longer. Last night, after your
obliging confidence, I repaired to the meeting; Thornton was there, and
very much out of humour. When our messmates dropped off, and we were
alone, at one corner of the room, I began talking to him carelessly
about his accusation of your friend, whom I have since learnt is Sir
Reginald Glanville--an old friend of mine too; aye, you may look, Sir,
but I can stake my life to having picked his pocket one night at the
Opera. Thornton was greatly surprised at my early intelligence of a
fact, hitherto kept so profound a secret; however, I explained it
away by a boast of my skill in acquiring information: and he then
incautiously let out, that he was exceedingly vexed with himself for the
charge he had made against the prisoner, and very uneasy at the urgent
inquiries set on foot for Dawson. More and more convinced of his guilt,
I quitted the meeting, and went to Dawson's retreat.

"For fear of his escape, Thornton had had him closely confined to one of
the most secret rooms in the house. His solitude and the darkness of
the place, combined with his remorse, had worked upon a mind, never
too strong, almost to insanity. He was writhing with the most acute and
morbid pangs of conscience that my experience, which has been pretty
ample, ever witnessed. The old hag, who is the Hecate (you see, Sir, I
have had a classical education) of the place, was v