“Unhand me, Godfrey Hurdlestone!” roared out the villain, struggling in the powerful grasp of his colleague in guilt.  “For by all the fiends of hell! she shall answer for those words!”

“Hold, Mathews!  You are mad!  I will stab you to the heart if you attempt to touch her.”

He spoke to the winds, for throwing him back to the wall, Mathews seized the knife from his hand, and sprang upon his intended victim.  Rising slowly up in the bed, with an air of calm solemn grandeur, she held up the pure pale form of the dead child between herself and the murderer.

Not a word was spoken.  With an awful curse the man reeled back as if he had been stung by a serpent, and fell writhing upon the floor, and Mary sunk back upon her pillow, and covered her face with her hands, muttering as she did so,—­“How strong is innocence!  The wicked are like the chaff which the wind scatters abroad.  Oh, God, forgive the past, which is no longer in my power; and let the future be spent in thy service.  I repent in dust and ashes.  Oh, woe is me, for I have sinned!”

Rousing Mathews from the fit into which he had fallen, and in no very enviable state of mind, Godfrey left the chamber, and joined a set of notorious gamblers in the room below.

From this scene of riot and drunken debauchery, he was summoned by Mrs. Strawberry to attend a gentleman who wished to speak to him in the outer room.  With unsteady steps, and a face flushed with the eager excitement of gambling.  Godfrey followed his conductress, and ruffian as he was, his cheek paled, and his eyes sought the ground when he found himself in the presence of his injured cousin.

Shocked at the situation in which he found him, Anthony briefly stated the difficulty he had had in tracing Godfrey to this infamous resort, and the awkward circumstances in which he was placed with young Wildegrave; and he claimed the promise made to him by his cousin on the preceding day, to relieve him from the impending danger.

“I told you that to-night, Anthony, the money should be repaid.  The clock has not yet struck for eight.  If I have luck, it shall be returned before twelve to-night.”

“Luck!” reiterated Anthony, gasping for breath, as he staggered to the wall for support.  “Is it on such a precarious basis that my honor and your honesty must rest?  You talked yesterday of the sale of your reversionary property.”

“I did.  But the Jew was too cunning for me.  He became the purchaser, and the money just satisfied his demand, and covered an old debt of honor, that I had forgotten was due to him, and I am worse off than I was before.”

“But you can restore the money you got from me last night, as Haman was satisfied by the sale of the legacy.”

“I could if you had called two hours ago.  I was tempted to try my luck in the hope of gaining a few pounds for my self, and—­”

“It is lost at the gaming table?”