holess sound, "Charity! food!"
The stranger paused; one of the boldest of men in his own line, he
was as timid as a woman in any other. Mistaking the meaning of the
petitioner, and terrified by the vehemence of his gesture, he said, in a
trembling tone, as he hastily pulled out his purse,--
"There, there! do not hurt me; take it; take all!" Glendower knew the
voice, as a sound not unfamiliar to him; his pride returned in full
force. "None," thought he, "who know me, shall know my full degradation
also." And he turned away; but the stranger, mistaking this motion,
extended his hand to him, saying, "Take this, my friend: you will
have no need of violence!" and as he advanced nearer to his supposed
assailant, he beheld, by the pale lamplight, and instantly recognized,
his features.
"Ah!" cried he, in astonishment, but with internal rejoicing, "ah! is it
you who are thus reduced?"
"You say right, Crauford," said Glendower, sullenly, and drawing himself
up to his full height, "it is I: but you are mistaken; I am a beggar,
not a ruffian!"
"Good heavens!" answered Crauford; "how fortunate that we should meet!
Providence watches over us unceasingly! I have long sought you in vain.
But" (and here the wayward malignity, sometimes, though not always, the
characteristic of Crauford's nature, irresistibly broke out), "but that
you, of all men, should suffer so,--you, proud, susceptible, virtuous
beyond human virtue,--you, whose fibres are as acute as the naked
eye,--that you should bear this and wince not!"
"You do my humanity wrong!" said Glendower, with a bitter and almost
ghastly smile; "I do worse than wince!"
"Ay, is it so?" said Crauford; "have you awakened at last? Has your
philosophy taken a more impassioned dye?"
"Mock me not!" cried Glendower; and his eye, usually soft in its deep
thoughtfulness, glared wild and savage upon the hypocrite, who stood
trembling, yet half sneering, at the storm he had raised; "my passions
are even now beyond my mastery; loose them not upon you!"
"Nay," said Crauford, gently, "I meant not to vex or wound you. I have
sought you several times since the last night we met, but in vain; you
had left your lodgings, and none knew whither. I would fain talk
with you. I have a scheme to propose to you which will make you rich
forever,--rich,--literally rich! not merely above poverty, but high in
affluence!"
Glendower looked incredulously at the speaker, who continued,--
"The sch
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