CENTS MISCHIEF.

On leaving Sir Murray Gernon, the energy which Lord Maudlaine had
displayed seemed to disappear, and he entered his own room, pale and
drawn of countenance. His hand, too, trembled, as, taking up a small
silver flask which lay upon a side-table, he drained it to the last
drop.

The brandy seemed to supply him with the nerve he required; and with a
renewed energy, that wore something of the air of desperation, he opened
a drawer in the bottom of his dressing-case, and took from it a pair of
small, handsomely-mounted pistols. But his hands trembled as he turned
them over and over, and the hue of his countenance became more and more
sallow, while dark lines showed themselves beneath his eyes.

For strange thoughts were intruding themselves upon his mind, and it
seemed to him that unless Brace Norton were out of his way he might just
as well apply one of those pistols to his own forehead, and draw the
trigger. This was not Italy, where he had first made the acquaintance
of the Gernons, or how easily he might have been rid of his rival. But
rid of him he must be, or ruin stared him in the face. Gambling and
betting had taken his last shilling, and now, supplied with cash for the
prosecution of his matrimonial project by one of the money-lending
fraternity, he knew what his fate must be should he fail. Confound this
Norton!--he was always starting up in his path; and he knew in his heart
that he was afraid of him; and, but for the recollection of the fierce
blow dealt him--a blow whose smart he still seemed to feel--the Viscount
dared not have prosecuted the intent for which he was now preparing.

The age of duelling was long past, and he gave Brace Norton the credit
for sending a note of challenge to the police, the result probably being
a summons before the bench of magistrates at Marshton, and his being
bound over to keep the peace towards Brace Norton and all her Majesty's
liege servants. So, in accordance with the plan he had laid down, he
proceeded to carefully load both pistols: powder and bullet, cap, and
one was ready; powder, wad, cap, and another was ready; and then--
perhaps by accident--his lordship took up a pen, dipped it in the silver
inkstand close by, and let it fall, so that one pistol-butt was slightly
marked with the black fluid. Then he sat, pen in hand, thoughtful and
silent for some time, but he did not write; and at last, still very pale
and anxious of mien, he took up the