oom, day after day,
generally in the afternoon, sit down at his table, and write for over an
hour steadily."

"That is strange!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "He has given up the
study of law. He has no taste for literary labor. He writes a beautiful
hand, and would not waste time in trying to improve his penmanship. It
is singular, indeed."

"His work, whatever it is, does not seem to satisfy him; for I have
observed that he no sooner fills a page with writing, than he burns it
to ashes by the gas jet, which he always keeps faintly lighted above
his head."

"Some more villany, I am sure," said the old gentleman, with a deep
sigh. "We shall find it out by its terrible consequences, in due time.
He has plenty of leisure to cultivate his vices, but not a moment to
seek my forgiveness (which, God knows, I would freely grant, if he would
only ask it). He cannot even throw away a word upon Mrs. Frump, to find
out whether his own father is dead or alive."

The last thought gave acute pain to the wretched parent. Tears again
sprang to his eyes, and Marcus feared that he was about to witness that
saddest sight in nature--an old man weeping.

But, by an effort, Mr. Van Quintem stifled his emotion, and, turning
suddenly upon his visitor, cried, in a voice of despair:

"Tell me, sir, in Heaven's name, what _shall I_ do with my son?"

CHAPTER III.

THE YOUNG MONSTER.

From boyhood, it had been Marcus Wilkeson's fortune (or the reverse) to
attract confidence, and to be sought out for advice. And it had most
generally happened that he was requested to bestow the last valuable
article in cases where inexperience absolutely disqualified him from
giving it.

He had found, however, that, when people ask for advice, they expect to
receive it, although they reserve to themselves the right, and, in
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, exercise the privilege, of
rejecting it.

But Marcus had gathered, from the old gentleman's story, that the error
of his dealings with the rebellious son lay in his constantly seeking
advice from everybody, and taking it, too, instead of adopting some
firm, consistent, and independent course of his own toward that unfilial
monster. Furthermore, Marcus knew that the son was already beyond the
reach of reform. For the future peace of his venerable friend, and for
the good of society, he could have conscientiously recommended
two things:

First, the immediate hanging of Myndert Van Quintem, jr