atient, when Sir Thomas Gourlay entered; and,
gracious heaven, what a frightful change had taken place in him! Dismay,
despair, wretchedness, misery, distraction, frenzy, were all struggling
for expression in his countenance. He was followed by Lord Cullamore,
who, when about to proceed home, had changed his mind, and returned for
Lady Emily. He advanced, still supported by Morty, and approaching Lucy,
took her hand, and said,

"Miss Gourlay, you are saved; and I thank God that I was made the
instrument of rescuing you from wretchedness and despair, for I read
both in your face. And now," he proceeded, addressing the spectators,
"I beg it to be understood, that in the breaking off of this marriage,
there is no earthly blame, not a shadow of imputation to be attributed
to Miss Gourlay, who is all honor, and delicacy, and truth. Her father,
if left to himself, would not now permit her to become the wife of my
son; who, I am sorry to say, is utterly unworthy of her."

"Attention!" once more was heard from the quarter in which old Sam
stood, as if bearing testimony to the truth of his lordship's assertion.
"John," said the latter, "you may thank your friend, Mr. Norton, for
enabling me, within the last hour, to save this admirable girl from the
ruin which her union with you would have entailed upon her. You will now
know how to appreciate so faithful and honorable a friend."

All that Dunroe must have felt, may be easily conceived by the reader.
The baronet, however, becomes the foremost figure in the group. The
strong, the cunning, the vehement, the overbearing, the plausible, the
unbelieving, the philosophical, and the cruel--these were the divided
streams, as it were, of his character, which all, however, united to
make up the dark and terrible current of his great ambition; great,
however, only as a passion and a moral impulse of action, but puny,
vile, and base in its true character and elements. Here, then, stood the
victim of his own creed, the baffled antagonist of God's providence, who
despised religion, and trampled upon its obligations; the man who strove
to make himself his own deity, his own priest, and who administered to
his guilty passions on the altar of a hardened and corrupted heart--here
he stood; now, struck, stunned, prostrated; whilst the veil which had
hitherto concealed the hideousness of his principles, was raised up,
as if by an awful hand, that he might know what it is for man to dash
himself a