ears may
walk, gloating and revelling, through a lane of beauties, till they fall
into the grave! Pish! that grave is an ugly thought,--a very, very ugly
thought! But come, my sun of hope, I must eclipse you for a while! Type
of myself, while you hide, I hide also; and when I once more let you
forth to the day, then shine out Richard Crauford,--shine out!" So
saying, he sewed the diamond carefully in the folds of his shirt; and,
rearranging his dress, took the cooling powder, which he weighed out
to a grain, with a scrupulous and untrembling hand; descended the back
stairs; opened the door, and found himself in the open street.

The clock struck ten as he entered a hackney-coach and drove to another
part of London. "What, so late!" thought he; "I must be at Dover in
twelve hours: the vessel sails then. Humph! some danger yet! What a
pity that I could not trust that fool! He! he! he!--what will he think
tomorrow, when he wakes and finds that only one is destined to swing!"

The hackney-coach stopped, according to his direction, at an inn in the
city. Here Crauford asked if a note had been left for Dr. Stapylton. One
(written by himself) was given to him.

"Merciful Heaven!" cried the false doctor, as he read it, "my daughter
is on a bed of death!"

The landlord's look wore anxiety; the doctor seemed for a moment
paralyzed by silent woe. He recovered, shook his head piteously, and
ordered a post-chaise and four on to Canterbury without delay.

"It is an ill wind that blows nobody good!" thought the landlord, as he
issued the order into the yard.

The chaise was soon out; the doctor entered; off went the post-boys; and
Richard Crauford, feeling his diamond, turned his thoughts to safety and
to France.

A little, unknown man, who had been sitting at the bar for the last two
hours sipping brandy and water, and who from his extreme taciturnity and
quiet had been scarcely observed, now rose. "Landlord," said he, "do you
know who that gentleman is?"

"Why," quoth Boniface, "the letter to him was directed, 'For the Rev.
Dr. Stapylton; will be called for.'"

"Ah," said the little man, yawning, "I shall have a long night's work of
it. Have you another chaise and four in the yard?"

"To be sure, sir, to be sure!" cried the landlord in astonishment.

"Out with it, then! Another glass of brandy and water,--a little
stronger, no sugar!"

The landlord stared; the barmaid stared; even the head-waiter, a very
stately perso