260 The Tutor-Fiend and his Three Pupils. [Sept. 



with a malignant grin, " have you another sword behind you ? — nay, 

 leave one hand for the cord of the hangman." 



Scowl approached Topaz, and touching his chains, cried, " Death, 

 ha ?" 



" Yes, a little sleep after a long walk." 



" And these are the men we cultivated. We taught them to dig for 

 gold, and they hang you for usury. 'Tis a jest, though not a bUthe 

 one. Come, no bequest for a friend ? — no wealth .'''' 



" Wealth, I have none : though these fools hunt me for it. They 

 surely think I have a vein of gold where other men have marrow. Yet 

 I will bequeath you something !" 



"What.?" 



" The rope that hangs me : 'twill serve you for a penitential cord." 



The gaoler entered — the friends must separate. They approached 

 each other with outstretched arms. " Think, brother, do you give 

 nothing }" cried Scowl. 



" Nothing," was the answer. Scowl, turning his back on his com- 

 panion, quitted the cell, and the usurer was led forth to death. 



Scowl, as his vessel sailed from the land, beheld the carcase of the 



miser hanging to the winds. 



****** 



All was bustle at the village of . Scowl had returned to his 



native home. He had built a stately and gorgeous palace, yet the 

 edifice had but few inhabitants. Two or three palsied old men from 

 the poor-house tottered in the halls ; and the roofs that might have shel- 

 tered monarchs echoed the shambling tread of the pauper. Here Scowl 

 would live in solitude, as though he communed with his riches, giving 

 them natures and dispositions. He would talk to them, for his mind 

 was sinking, as they were his ministers and friends. 



At length he ventured upon a task imposed upon him by his late 

 master. It was a dai-k wintry night when he hobbled to the marsh 

 where once stood the cottage of old Rapax. Scowl began to dig the 

 earth, and after a long and wearisome toil, he beheld the buried riches 

 of his master. Here night after night he toiled, removing the treasure 

 stealthily to his mansion. One night, he beheld a man moving slowly 

 towards the pit — he saw him leap into it, and heard him rattle his 

 wealth. Scowl sprang upon the robber, seized a bag, and swinging it 

 with all his strength, dashed it against the head of his opponent, who 

 fell, screaming inarticulate sounds. Scowl repeated the blows, then 

 throwing in the earth, buried the unknown corse of Blithelieart with 

 his idol. Scowl caught up the bag, and hastened to his mansion. 



" It must be," exclaimed Scowl, " none else could know the spot!" 

 And then he sought to place the bag with his stores : he felt in his 

 bosom — groaned, and let the bag fall. The noise awakened his ser- 

 vants : the old men ran to their master, whom they found aghast and 

 trembling. Scowl wildly cried, " ]My keys ! my keys ! gone — buried !'' 

 One of the old men took up the bag — Scowl darted forth to seize it, 

 then staggered back as he beheld it wet with the blood of his victim. 

 The servants cut it open, and the gold fell about the floor. Scowl 

 stamped and shrieked as he saw the old men fighting and struggling for 

 the coin. He rushed to the iron door of his treasures, forbidding all 

 approach. Here, in madness, he raved for hours. The old men terri- 



