to throw out certain well-concealed hints to Mrs. Beverley, concerning what he called "Rumour," and which were somewhat discreditable to the lady's virtue. But so well worded and ambiguous were these hints that Mrs. Beverley, though annoyed, failed to see their drift.

Charlotte had ever been distrustful of this Stukeley, who, ostensibly to relieve a friend in distress, had fanned Beverley's consuming passion by lending him money to gamble with. She therefore, felt relieved when Lewson, who was in love with her, came upon the scene, and this person, without much ceremony, as he was honest, proceeded to challenge Stukeley's conduct. The other replied that, at another time and place, he would be glad to hear Lewson's allegations; and, saying this, he departed.

Lewson, like Jarvis, was a true friend; he had come upon the family business, and it was necessary for Mrs. Beverley to accompany him to a sale.

When Stukeley reached his lodging, he was mortified at what had taken place. Had he been allowed to pay the creditor at Mrs. Beverley's, he would have had another hold on the lady. Beverley was his tool; but no more wasted time; more work had to be done; the jewels of Beverley's wife had to come into his hands, and they might prove instruments powerful enough for his purpose. Bates and Dawson were provided with false dice, and poor Beverley, before whose eyes passion had weaved a mist, would never suspect the treachery, would be more deeply ruined; the reversion of his uncle's estate would then doubtless be sold to Stukeley, and so also Mrs. Beverley's jewels- at least, so hoped the amiable Stukeley.

At the place indicated by Stukeley old Jarvis found the unfortunate Beverley. Aye, he was in that place of all others where reason leaves the honest mind, and a strange, wild infatuation hurries its victim to an irrevocable doom. It was a gaming hell. Bitter, ah, bitter beyond the computation, or the imagination of those who have never experienced the awful feelings of the ruining passion, were the reflections that haunted the feverish brain of the gamester. He listened to the offers of help old Jarvis made; but Stukeley, generous Stukeley, was at hand, and Jarvis returned to his mistress. So, so; Beverley had not only ruined himself and the home where peace and happiness once smiled, but also his friend! Stukeley's money was done, and the lenders wanted security before advancing more. That security Beverley could not produce, he had now nothing of value, no estates, no hopes. But, suggested Stukeley, since they were both undone, there was no time for pity, all must be action. Had Beverley or his wife no trinkets, no baubles locked up that might retrieve their lost posi

tions. Beverley replied that his wife had jewels, but he would never ask for those. At that rate, continued the viper, there was nothing for Beverley but red ruin, and for him a prison.

A prison! Had Stukeley, then, risked so much in the cause of friendship! Of what use now were jewels; Stukeley should have them; before night the gamester would place them in his possession.

When Beverley arrived home, Charlotte requested the return of her fortune, which she had given him to take care of, but her brother evaded the demand. Had he, then, wasted her money too? Was it not enough for him to ruin his wife, his children, his prospects, but must also show his sister the highway to poverty and disgrace? What troop of friends had prompted him to so base an act; and, not content with this, must be ever in the company of a deceiver, whom Lewson knew too well, and of whose infamy he should presently have ample proof? Thus spoke sister Charlotte.

he

Mrs. Beverley was of another nature. Fond and loving to the last, she caressed Beverley, and assured him that his presence was all she desired. Let him leave Stukeley, and, even in ruin, were he near her, she should be happy. But would she then allow him to desert a friend who, solely to relieve him, had reduced himself so much as to have no home now but a prison? No, no; her love for her husband, her desire for his peace, precluded her from not granting any of his requests! Her jewels were but trifles; be should have them; he should use them as he liked; and he, he vowed that never more after this one chance to regain his position, would he gamble; he would give up his evil habits, and as she knew well he had a heart that, when it beat its true music, was ever faithful to her, he would, after this one night, for ever be with her; her happiness should be his study, and the love-light of her eyes his elysium.

In the meantime, Stukeley, at his lodgings, was busy instructing his associate Bates how to proceed. When the money for the jewels had been lost, Stukeley would advise Beverley to sell the reversion of his uncle's estate, and to Bates would he send him for that purpose.

Charlotte upbraided Mrs. Beverley for the weakness she had shown in parting with her trinkets. Mrs. Beverley replied that she was ready to do anything that would rescue her husband from the pit into which he had fallen. Charlotte was, however, inclined to think that Beverley was unworthy of all this mercy, particularly as he had not scrupled to appropriate her fortune. This announcement startled the unhappy wife, who, had Lewson not entered at that moment, would have made some reply. The visitor was come to tell a secret to his Charlotte, but, before doing so, he

had one question to ask her. It was now over a twelvemonth since they plighted their troth, and he wished to know if she had changed towards him during that period? Yes, she had changed; but she added, that it was in his favour. She must promise him to be his on the morrow; and then for the secret. She hesitated -would he not allow her a little longer? No, he had reasons for his request. The promise was made; and the secret? Lewson knew for a certainty that Beverley had squandered Charlotte's fortune in its entirety!

Lost lost! lost! every penny that had been obtained on the jewels was sunken! In the gaming hell were Beverley and Stukeley ruined, and again penniless! Rage, anger, and disappointment! A fierce altercation arose between the two gamesters. Beverley seized his friend by the throat, and commanded him, ere he committed a double murder, to invent some plan for their redemption. There was, said Stukeley, no plan, no hope; there was nothing in the world but ingratitude, the seizing of a friend by the throat because, forsooth! that friend had been fool enough to advance money, in order to relieve a gentleman in distress!

But, urged Beverley, would that friend not forgive the ingratitude, and propound some scheme for their mutual advantage? Well, then, there was the reversion of the estate of Beverley's uncle. Bates, perhaps, might buy that. Enough, Beverley went

to see.

But,

Ab, ah!" chuckled Stukeley, "fortune favours me. though his pocket is ruined, my passion for his wife is unsatisfied. I will go to her."

To Mrs. Beverley the seducer went, and found her alone. The world, said he, had strange rumours of gamesters and mistresses. Of a fond wife at home, who gave jewels to save her husband and of a "lord and master," who carried those valuables to an exorbitant mistress. And this same husband had forged a signature to a note he had shown his wife, wherein a supposed ruined friend spoke of a prison as his last home.

Was this Beverley's case? Stukeley was too deep not to answer in the affirmative.

The insinuations were too vile, the conduct too heartless, not to arcuse in Mrs. Beverley's breast a desire for vengeance, which, with an oath, she vowed to reap.

This was the time, suggested Stukeley, for her to reap it: let her fly from the deceptions of a poverty-stricken husband to the embraces of a loving and rich one. Let her make use of her youth and her beauty, while yet they were fresh and fair, and bestow her charms on the speaker.

It was an awful request, and an awful moment. Stretching

herself up to her full height, the fierce lightning from her eyes darting on the viper, and she cried forth

"What! has poverty so humbled me that I must sell my soul for bread! Villain! despicable villain! friend! I know thee. My injured husband shall thank thee. He shall know thy baseness. Your absence, sir, will please me. Yet, as I fear the consequences of thy villany, keep thy secret and begone."

He went straight to his lodgings, where he met Bates. Presently knocking was heard, Stukeley directed Bates to descend, and Lewson entered. Stukeley demanded the cause of this interruption. Cause! Were not the ruin of an honest man, and the proposal of dishonour to his wife, sufficient cause? If he had any courage now, with the drawn sword, was the time to show it. No, he would not; he knew his game better; he parleyed, and argued, railed, and scoffed. Lewson, seeing that remonstrance would be in vain, left him.

To Bates' question as to what occasioned so great a noise, Stukeley replied that there were matters of vast importance to be accomplished. Lewson must be put out of the way. He knew sadly too much. Would Bates perform the deed and secure the reward? Ah! he liked not the hazard; but the prize was well worth the risk. That night it should be done.

That night, as Beverley was going home, he met Lewson, and, in frenzy, challenged him to fight, on account of his having said something about the loss of Charlotte's fortune, and that, too, in the hearing of Bates and Jarvis. Lewson declined the encounter, went on his way; whilst Bates followed, and left Jarvis to conduct. his master home.

To save himself from all suspicion, Stukeley, though it was late, called Dawson to his room, and gave him a warrant to seize Beverley's person for debt. So that in the event of Lewson's death, the affair would read thus :

Jarvis and Bates had heard Beverley and Lewson quarrelling, Stukeley, knowing of Beverley's intention to accost Lewson for a supposed offence, had issued a warrant of arrest for debt against Beverley, so that the intending fighter would be lodged in jail, and his plan of bloodshed frustrated. The world will look upon the arrest as an act of mercy.

The deed was performed. Lewson, according to Bates and Dawson, was no more. Beverley had been removed to a debtor's prison. He was attended by the old and faithful Jarvis, who had already announced to Mrs. Beverley and Charlotte the death of his master's uncle, coupled with the joyful news that now Beverley was a rich man.

To the prison, therefore, the ladies repaired; but too late,→

unknown to any one, Beverley, in his despair, had taken poison. Their arrival, and the news they brought him, cheered him not; he asked for a chair, and grew fainter. The fortune of which they spoke he had already sold. Here Stukeley entered, and tendered Beverley's release; remarking that he had ordered his arrest only to prevent bloodshed, but his effort in that line had, it appeared, been useless.

Blood, blood! who was dead? Lewson, Charlotte's intended husband? Charlotte screamed aloud. The proof was too plain ; Jarvis and Bates had heard Beverley, on the preceding night, in angry quarrel with his victim.

Dawson and Bates were here; but, amazement, Lewson too. Aye, he was alive; and to clearly inculpate Stukeley had, by the direction of Bates and his confederate, kept out of the way. They would have remained villains had their master stopped short of murder, but that they could not brook. They would tell all.

But Beverley, poor Beverley! What of him? The poison was rankling in his vitals, his strength was ebbing fast, and his brain was confused. The convulsions grew stronger, the limbs stiffened, foam gathered round his lips, and his life was over.

Let frail minds take warning, and, from example learn, that want of prudence is want of virtue.