nced over me with the fierce light of a threatening comet.
The dream nearly drove me mad, and mad I should have been had I gone to
my prayers. I knew that, and chose a different course for relief."

"What was that?"

"I sought for another victim as soon after as I conveniently could. The
one spectre superseded the other, until all vanished. They never trouble
me now, though sometimes, in my waking moments, I have met them on the
roadside, glaring at me from bush or tree, until I shouted at them
fiercely, and then they were gone. These are my terrors, and they do
sometimes unman me."

"They would do more with me; they would destroy me on the spot. But, let
us have no more of this. Let us rather see if we can not do something
towards making our visions more agreeable. Do you persevere in the
sacrifice of this youngster? Must he die?"

"Am I a child, Walter Munro, that you ask me such a question? Must I
again tell over the accursed story of my defeat and of his success? Must
I speak of my thousand defeats--of my overthrown pretensions--my blasted
hopes, where I had set my affections--upon which every feeling of my
heart had been placed? Must I go over a story so full of pain and
humiliation--must I describe my loss, in again placing before your eyes
a portraiture like this? Look, man, look--and read my answer in the
smile, which, denying me, teaches me, in this case, to arm myself with a
denial as immutable as hers."

He placed before his companion the miniature of Edith, which he took
from his bosom, where he seemed carefully to treasure it. He was again
the envenomed and the excited savage which we have elsewhere seen him,
and in which mood Munro knew well that nothing could be done with him in
the shape of argument or entreaty. He went on:--

"Ask me no questions, Munro, so idle, so perfectly unnecessary as this.
Fortune has done handsomely here. He falls through _me_, yet falls by
the common hangman. What a double blow is this to both of them. I have
been striving to imagine their feelings, and such a repast as that
effort has procured me--I would not exchange it--no--not for worlds--for
nothing less, Munro, than my restoration back to that society--to that
place in society, from which my fierce passions, and your cruel
promptings, and the wrongs of society itself, have for ever exiled me."

"And would you return, if you could do so?"

"To-morrow--to-night--this instant. I am sanguinary,
Munro--revengeful--fie