t
twelve brief hours into futurity, each syllable that falls from that good
man's lips unheeded would peal through thy heart and brain like maddening
thunder. Hearken, hearken, Sir Wynston Berkley, perchance these are the
farewell words of thy better angel--the last pleadings of despised mercy!

The party broke up. Doctor Danvers took his leave, and rode homeward,
down the broad avenue, between the gigantic ranks of elm that closed it
in. The full moon was rising above the distant hills; the mists lay
like sleeping lakes in the laps of the hollows; and the broad demesne
looked tranquil and sad under this chastened and silvery glory. The
good old clergyman thought, as he pursued his way, that here at least,
in a spot so beautiful and sequestered, the stormy passions and fell
contentions of the outer world could scarcely penetrate. Yet, in that
calm secluded spot, and under the cold, pure light which fell so
holily, what a hell was weltering and glaring!--what a spectacle was
that moon to go down upon! As Sir Wynston was leaving the parlor for
his own room, Marston accompanied him to the hall, and said--"I shan't
play tonight, Sir Wynston."

"Ah, ha! very particularly engaged?" suggested the baronet, with a
faint, mocking smile. "Well, my dear fellow, we must endeavor to make up
for it tomorrow--eh?"

"I don't know that," said Marston, "and--in a word, there is no use, sir,
in our masquerading with one another. Each knows the other; each
understands the other. I wish to have a word or two with you in your room
tonight, when we shan't be interrupted."

Marston spoke in a fierce and grating whisper, and his countenance, more
even than his accents, betrayed the intensity of his bridled fury. Sir
Wynston, however, smiled upon his cousin as if his voice had been melody,
and his looks all sunshine.

"Very good, Marston, just as you please," he said; "only don't be later
than one, as I shall be getting into bed about that hour."

"Perhaps, upon second thoughts, it is as well to defer what I have to
say," said Marston, musingly. "Tomorrow will do as well; so, perhaps, Sir
Wynston, I may not trouble you tonight."

"Just as suits you best, my dear Marston," replied the baronet, with a
tranquil smile; "only don't come after the hour I have stipulated."

So saying, the baronet mounted the stairs, and made his way to his
chamber. He was in excellent spirits, and in high good-humor with
himself: the object of his visit to Gray