y brain, and I may become dangerous. Had any
other man eyed, and scoffed, and railed at me as you have done, he
would be lying dead and dumb as this stone at my foot; but you-are my
father-in-law! Now, I care not to bargain with you what be the precise
amount of my stipend if I obey your wish, and settle miserably in one
of those raw, comfortless corners into which they who burthen this Old
World are thrust out of sight. I would rather live my time out in this
country--live it out in peace and for half what you may agree to give in
transporting me. If you are to do anything for me, you had better do
it so as to make me contented on easy terms to your own pockets, rather
than to leave me dissatisfied, and willing to annoy you, which I could
do somehow or other, even on the far side of the Herring Pond. I might
keep to the letter of a bargain, live in Melbourne or Sydney, and take
your money, and yet molest and trouble you by deputy. That girl, for
instance--your grandchild; well, well, disown her if you please; but
if I find out where she is, which I own I have not done yet, I might
contrive to render her the plague of your life, even though I were in
Australia."

"Ay," said Darrell, murmuring--"ay, ay; but"--(suddenly gathering
himself up)--"No! Man, if she were my grandchild, your own child, could
you talk of her thus? make her the object of so base a traffic, and such
miserable threats? Wicked though you be, this were against nature! even
in nature's wickedness--even in the son of a felon, and in the sharper
of a hell. Pooh! I despise your malice. I will listen to you no longer.
Out of my path."

"No!"

"No?"

"No, Guy Darrell, I have not yet done; you shall hear my terms, and
accept them--a moderate sum down; say a few hundreds, and two hundred
a-year to spend in London as I will--but out of your beat, out of your
sight and hearing. Grant this, and I will never cross you again--never
attempt to find, and, if I find by chance, never claim as my child by
your daughter that wandering girl. I will never shame you by naming our
connection. I will not offend the law, nor die by the hangman; yet I
shall not live long, for I suffer much, and I drink hard."

The last words were spoken gloomily, not altogether without a strange
dreary pathos. And amidst all his just scorn and anger, the large human
heart of Guy Darrell was for the moment touched. He was silent--his mind
hesitated; would it not be well--would it not be ju