, rising, and taking his leave.

"Not enemies certainly, Captain Jekyl. I will own to you I owe you my
thanks, for extricating me from that foolish affair at the Well--nothing
could have put me to more inconvenience than the necessity of following
to extremity a frivolous quarrel at the present moment."

"You will come down among us, then?" said Jekyl.

"I certainly shall not wish to appear to hide myself," answered Tyrrel;
"it is a circumstance might be turned against me--there is a party who
will avail himself of every advantage. I have but one path, Captain
Jekyl--that of truth and honour."

Captain Jekyl bowed, and took his leave. So soon as he was gone, Tyrrel
locked the door of the apartment, and drawing from his bosom a portrait,
gazed on it with a mixture of sorrow and tenderness, until the tears
dropped from his eye.

It was the picture of Clara Mowbray, such as he had known her in the
days of their youthful love, and taken by himself, whose early turn for
painting had already developed itself. The features of the blooming girl
might be yet traced in the fine countenance of the more matured
original. But what was now become of the glow which had shaded her
cheek?--what of the arch, yet subdued pleasantry, which lurked in the
eye?--what of the joyous content, which composed every feature to the
expression of an Euphrosyne?--Alas! these were long fled!--Sorrow had
laid his hand upon her--the purple light of youth was quenched--the
glance of innocent gaiety was exchanged for looks now moody with
ill-concealed care, now animated by a spirit of reckless and satirical
observation.

"What a wreck! what a wreck!" exclaimed Tyrrel; "and all of one wretch's
making.--Can I put the last hand to the work, and be her murderer
outright? I cannot--I cannot!--I will be strong in the resolve I have
formed--I will sacrifice all--rank--station--fortune--and fame.
Revenge!--Revenge itself, the last good left me--revenge itself I will
sacrifice, to obtain for her such tranquillity as she may be yet capable
to enjoy."

In this resolution he sat down, and wrote a letter to the commercial
house with whom the documents of his birth, and other relative papers,
were deposited, requesting that the packet containing them should be
forwarded to him through the post-office.

Tyrrel was neither unambitious, nor without those sentiments respecting
personal consideration, which are usually united with deep feeling and
an ardent mind. I