"What a foul lie that is! Do you not blush to contradict yourself so shamefully?" I paused, pressed my hand upon my brow, and arrested the torrent of rage which was bursting forth. "Forgive me!" I continued, "my passion will get the better of me. My misfortunes have quite destroyed my temper. I wish not to insult you, and have only one small request to make.”

"I can bear much from you, Tracy. I know how strange my conduct must appear in your eyes, but when you shall have heard me explain

"I understand. But it is altogether unnecessary. I only wish that you would listen to me for a few moments. You may have heard, that after the night of Mary's mur der

Poor, sweet woman!"

"Ay, poor, sweet woman. Well, after her murder," (I felt it almost impossible to refrain from striking the hypocrite to the ground), " on the very evening of her murder, an ejectment was served, and keepers put on our propety at Cushlane-Beg. Every thing we possessed in the world was snatched away from us. I was unable, from my illness, to attend in my own person, to the disposal of my affairs, and when I rose from my sick bed, I found myself a pauper. I have now nothing in the world. My children are depending on the kindness of friends, and my young and gentle daughter, whom I robbed of her marriage dowry, in order to accommodate you, is left in danger of sharing my poverty, and losing for ever her present hope of happiness. That event would make me mad."

Dalton appeared greatly perplexed. "Any thing that it is in my power to do, Tracy," he said, in some hesitation, you may instantly command."

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"You can do every thing," I replied. "Hear me, Dalton. I ask not from you the fulfilment of those hopes with which you deluded me--I require not that you should make good the false and treacherous promises by which you duped me ; I was the fool of my own credulity, the gull of my own selfish desires; I take the responsibility of my own well merited destruction upon my own guilty hands. I inquire not the motives of your conduct, I forgive, from my soul, the evil you have brought upon my own head: from this hour you never

shall be troubled with reproach or question on that subject. But I have no power to remit so easily the wrongs you have inflicted through me, on others. For these it is my duty to demand redress, and it is well for you and for me, Dalton, that the redress I ask is within your power.'

"What injury, what redress, do you speak of?"

"You will be astonished to learn how moderate it is. You may remember that, trusting in your honour (like a fool, as you have justly named me,) and calculating on a brilliant remuneration, I lent you, when I was low in funds and could but ill afford it, a sum of money. It was the wedding portion of my daughter who is-was-on the eve of marriage, and who intrusted her little fortune to my keeping, supposing, silly one, that it could not be safer than in her father's hands. Pay me that money back, that I may restore it to my child, and let us part, as we have met. It is a triffe now to you, give it as freely as it was given, and I will never trouble you again."

"You cannot doubt my will to do it," said Dalton, still in deep perplexity "but the truth is

"That is the whole extent of my present claim upon you. It is not my own demand."

"I acknowledge there cannot be a more just one, and my gratitude alone would make it a paramount one. But in plain truth, Tracy---"

"My daughter will be ruined," said I, "if it is not paid at once. It will be known that I have plundered her, and I shall be hooted from the country."

"I feel all the urgency of the occasion," said Dalton-"believe me, I feel its necessity. But indeed, Tracy-" I would not suffer him to give utterance to the negative I saw ready to pass from his lips. "Again, Dalton, hear me," I said."You have a child. I heard you, but a few minutes since, describe my feelings for my orphan girl, in painting your own towards your son. Suppose yourself in my situation, imagine that you behold your boy ready to fall a prey to poverty, disappointment, to want and hunger (for that must be the event). Answer me as you would have your debtor answer in those circumstances, and answer quickly, for the night passes, and I have far to travel yet."

Dalton appeared somewhat touched. "If it were the last shilling in my possession," he exclaimed with warmth, and

(I now think) with truth—“ I would not withhold it from you for an instant. But once more, my good Tracy——”

"Villain," I cried, losing patience at his hesitation and hypocrisy," is it your intention to do me justice? I hate your fawning terms, they disgust, they insult me, I ask a plain question, and I demand a plain answer. Is it your intention to discharge my debt?"

"It is, assuredly."

"Enough. Let me depart then quickly on my journey. I have seen evil enough beneath this roof to-night to make me fear and fly it. Let me hasten with the tidings of happiness to my forlorn child."

"It is my determination to pay you;" Dalton resumed, "but to-night it is impossible. Many days shall not pass before your claim is settled, but I have not a sixth of the sum at present in my possession."

"And you will not pay me, now.?''

"I cannot."

"Look hither, Dalton. I arose from a sick bed to find you out and tender you this proffer of forgiveness on these conditions I have ridden in your track these two days, almost without food or sleep, and the Almighty who watches over the interests of my innocent child has made my search successful, not for my sake, but her's. If you suppose my credulity still continues unenlightened, and that I can be prevailed on to trust a self convicted liar for another day, you are grievously in error. Neither you nor I shall leave these walls until this demand is settled."

"What shall I say to convince you ?-- I cannot pay you the money now. I have it not."

"It is impossible. Make me not desperate, I warn you. I am determined to be paid. If you could only see the horrid thoughts that have been thrusting themselves upon my imagination since we have been alone together--with how much exertion I have been wrestling against the hideous temptations that are momently rising up against my reason, and wasting its strength by repeated contests, you would be glad to make this compromise. Compel me not to recall the memory of your treason--I feel it rushing upon me at this instant with an almost irresistible violence. Be wise, and let this interview terminate quickly."

"I know not how I shall satisfy you. note-a bond."

I will give you a

"I am aware of the value of your credit. I will take nothing but the hard gold I gave you-or notes which leave nothing dependent on your own honesty. Pay mẹ, ruffian, or I will tear the black heart out of you! If you have any mercy, pay me! Consider my agony--think of my distress --remember what you found, and what you left, me-pursue not your prey too far-you have persecuted me enough for your own purposes-be satisfied with what you have doneand have some pity."

"I have-I do pity you from my soul, but-"

"Pity me!" I exclaimed, bursting into incontrollable rage, and delivering myself up altogether to the triumphant passion--"Do you dare to flout me with the word?" I griped his throat and pressed him to the earth..

“Will you murder me?" he exclaimed, “I tell you I will satisfy you to-morrow.'

"It is too late now-the devil has entered into me, and I am not my own master."

"You will not murder me ?"

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I think I will," I pressed my knee hard upon his breast "I should do the world a service."

"Help!--murder!--mercy! Take off your hands—” His face blackened and his voice grew thick--a bad spirit put strength into my fingers-and they fastened in his flesh. almost without an effort. I heard a tramping of many hurried feet upon the staircase-and there was a sudden cessation of the sounds of merry-making below. My victim grew silent in my clutch. At the same moment my own frame became exhausted by the violence of its own exertion-two or three painful throbs struck through my brain--sudden clouds gathered on my sight, and my limbs became unnerved. A loud crash from behind sounded in my ears, and I became conscious of a crowd of persons surrounding, and forcing us asunder. I made the effort of a dreaming man to keep my prey within my grasp, but my senses failed me in the exertion.

CHAPTER XVII.

WHEN I had perfectly recovered my recollection (for 1 was indistinctly sensible of many occurrences that passed in the night), I found myself seated between cushions on the same tattered, leather-bottomed chair which Dalton had occupied. A bandage was fastened round my arm where a vein had been opened, and a checque curtain was drawn across the window, through which the gray light of a rainy morning diffused a feeble influence through the apartment. I listened for a few moments to the wind outside, which drove the heavy showers in fitful and uncertain gusts against the small window-panes. My headach was gone, and a slight ringing and confusion of ideas was all that remained. The sight of Dalton gasping in the agony of suffocation, as it was the last object on which my sight had closed, so it was the first vision that presented itself to my imagination on awaking. I groped with my expanded fingers and gazed around, as if expecting to find him still before me.

"Where is he?" I asked, " he has not paid me."

"Whisht! who, sir?" I heard a voice exclaim at my

side.

"Misther Dalton. Ah, if he didn't pay you, take it from me, you paid him, an' that well."

"Is the bad man dead?" I asked faintly, and in great fear.

"Dead, says he? Oyeh. I'll be your bail for it, he has a better grip o' the life than that. I wisht all the honest men in Munsther were as clever as he rode off from this last night."

"I am thankful," I said, after a long pause, "to the divine Being for his mercy, though I merited it not. He is gone, and I am glad of it. I might have had a heavy crime to answer for. I am most thankful for this great mercy. Well, Dalton, you have prevailed!-farewell, for ever!"

"Take it from me, you gave him a rale choking for all,"