wounded heart bled on!  How she sang—­exquisitely always—­for their amusement and nauseous approbation, until her sweet voice almost failed to crush the rising tears!  How gracefully she led off the merry dance whilst clogs were on her spirits, weighing upon every movement.  Extravagant joyousness!  Dearly purchased pleasure!  Yes, dearly purchased, if only with that half hour of dreadful silence and remorse that intervened between the banquet and the chamber—­not of sweet slumber and benevolent repose but of restlessness and horrid dreams!

CHAPTER V.

THE CRISIS.

Michael was half mad in the midst of his troubles; and, in truth, they gathered so thickly and rapidly about him, that he is to be admired for the little check which he contrived to keep over his reason, saving him from absolute insanity and a lunatic asylum.  Mr Bellamy, although away, made free with the capital of the bank, and applied it to his own private uses.  Mr Brammel, senior, after having, for many years, made good to Allcraft the losses the latter had sustained through his son’s extravagance, at length grew tired of the work, and left the neighbourhood, in disgust, as Michael thought, but, in sad truth, with a bruised and broken heart.  At last he had dismissed the long-cherished hope of the prodigal’s reformation, and with his latest hope departed every wish to look upon his hastening decay and fall.  He crawled from the scene—­the country; no one knew his course; not a soul was cognizant of his intentions, or could guess his resting-place.  Augustus Theodore did not, in consequence of his father’s absence, draw less furiously upon the bank!  He had never heard of that father’s generosity—­how should he know of it now?  And, if he knew it, was he very likely to profit by the information?  Michael honoured his drafts for many reasons; two may be mentioned, founded on hope and fear—­the hope of frightening the unfortunate Brammel senior into payment when he met with him again, the fear of making Brammel junior desperate by his refusal, and of his divulging all he knew.  Could a man, not crazy, carry more care upon his brain?  Yes, for demands on account of Planner poured in, the very instant that fortunate speculator had taken his lucky leave of the establishment—­demands for which Michael had rendered himself liable in law, by the undertaking which he had drawn up and signed in his alarm and haste.  Oh, why had he overwhelmed himself with partners—­why had he married—­why had he taken upon himself the responsibility of his parent’s debts—­why had he not explained every thing when he might have done it with honour and advantage—­why had he not relied upon his own integrity—­and why had he attempted, with cunning and duplicity, to overreach his neighbours?  Why, oh why, had he done all this?  When Michael was fairly hemmed in by his difficulties, and, as it is vulgarly said, had not a leg to stand upon, or