knows where or how!
As to the orphan girl, whose interest I had sworn to watch over, any
care for her now would only have insulted my own misery; my rage was
blind and undiscriminating, and I would not be guided by reason. It was,
therefore, in a spirit of unreflecting vengeance that I never took any
steps regarding her, but preserved, even to this hour, a letter to her
guardian,--it is there, in that pocket-book,--which might perhaps have
vindicated her right to wealth and fortune. 'No,' thought I, 'they have
been _my_ ruin; I will not be the benefactor of one of them!'

"I kept my word; and even when my own personal distresses were greatest,
I would not have raised myself out of want at the price of relinquishing
that revenge. I have lived to think and feel more wisely," said he,
after a pause; "I have lived to learn the great lesson that every mishap
of my life was of my own procuring, and that self-indulgence and a
vindictive spirit are enough to counterbalance tenfold more than all the
abilities I ever possessed. The world will no more confide its interests
to men like me than they will take a tiger for a house-dog. I want to
make some reparation for this wrong, Alfred. I want to seek out this
person I have spoken of, and, if this girl still live, to place her in
possession of her own. You will help me in this, will you not?"

It was not without a burning impatience that young Layton had listened
to his father's narrative; he was eager to tell him that his friend
the Colonel had already addressed himself to the enterprise, all his
interests being engaged by the journals and letters he had collected
when in Ireland. Alfred now, in a few hurried words, related all this,
and told how, at that very hour, Quackinboss was eagerly prosecuting the
inquiry. "He has gone down to Norfolk in search of this Winthrop," said
he.

"He will not find him there," said old Layton. "He left Norfolk, for the
Far West, two years back. He settled at Chicago, but he has not remained
there. So much I have learned, and it is all that is known about him."

"Let us go to Chicago, then," said Alfred.

"It is what I would advise. He is a man of sufficient note and mark to
be easily traced. It is a well-known name, and belongs to a family much
looked up to. These are my credentials, if I should ever chance to come
up with him."

As he spoke, he unclasped a very old and much-worn leather pocket-book,
searching through whose pages he at last