CHAPTER XX.

Foul deeds will rise,

Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes.

Hamlet.

And thus, as in memory's bark we shall glide
To visit the scenes of our boyhood anew-
Though oft we may see, looking down on the tide,
The wreck of full many a hope shining through.
Yet still, as in fancy we point to the flowers,

That once made a garden of all the gay shore,
Deceived for a moment, we'll think them still ours,
And breathe the fresh air of life's morning once more.
MOORE'S Irish Melodies.

A stylish equipage drew up opposite the shop of a fashionable perfumer in St. Paul's Church-yard at the moment when Captain Carlos was passing, his limbs cold and crippled with the long journey he had just performed. The steps of the carriage were let down by the footman in attendance; an elegantly dressed man descended, ran heedlessly forward, and stumbling by an unlucky mischance over the stick of the old sailor, fell prostrate on the pavement. On springing to his feet, he angrily accused Captain Carlos of having tripped him designedly, and burning with mortification at the ridiculous exhibition he had made in the eyes of the lady, still seated in the vehicle, gave the unfortunate old man into the custody of a minion of

the law, who was attracted to the spot by the crowd that instantly gathered round. Authority has little sympathy with offending poverty, and without waiting to investigate the facts of the case, the civic functionary conducted his prisoner to the stationhouse. In an hour after his arrival in London, poor Carlos found himself the inmate of the city lockup, there to pass the night with such emotions as his position were likely to awaken.

Next morning he was brought before the bench. The gentleman was not in attendance, but his servant had been deputed to give evidence. The old sailor's well grounded defence was favourably received, and the case was about being dismissed, when the magistrate, looking at the sheet in evident surpise, said

"Your name, I perceive, is Carlos. Where do you come from, and what is your occupation ?"

"For many years I was captain of a vessel sailing from Liverpool."

"Jenkins," said the magistrate, "shew the old man into my private room, and let him wait till I am disengaged."

Captain Carlos was accordingly led from the dock into a spacious and splendidly furnished apartment in the Mansion-house of the world's metropolis. He seated himself on one of the richly gilt chairs, and looked round with amazement, wondering what would be the result of his detention. Strange thoughts passed through his mind during the three quarters of an hour that followed, nor was his sur

prise diminished when the late occupant of the bench entered the room, and thus addressed him with cold hauteur

"Many years have elapsed, Captain Carlos, since we came in contact. Our present meeting is somewhat different as regards our relative position from our last parting."

"Excuse me, sir," rejoined the captain, "my eyes are dim, and my memory is fast fading; I have no recollection of seeing you before. What if it please you, may your name be ?"

"We have met occasionally in days long past," replied the dignitary. "When I was poor, and struggling to rise in the world, you, like others, strove to keep me down. Now that I have risen and gained a station in society, you, like others, would be glad, doubtless, to receive my countenance and protection. Ah! the scene which you have witnessed to-day, and the indignity to which you were yesterday exposed, must have convinced you that poverty is ever subject to insult. You have, I dare say, found it so ?"

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I have indeed, sir. Few have endured greater wretchedness and degradation. I have been wealthy in my time, and happy; though my sun, I fear, has

set."

"And no one, I have understood, was ever less considerate about others' feelings. Years have, perhaps, rendered you oblivious of the insults once put upon Peter Laurel ?"

you

"I remember him well, and the provocation he

gave me. Yet he is one of the persons I am now most anxious to meet, for I hear he found favour in my daughter's sight, if not in mine. Do you know him, sir ?"

"He stands before you, Captain Carlos !"

"Impossible! A magistrate of the city of London! The Peter Laurel I used to ! Well, well, it is not so incredible after all; the change is hardly greater than what I have myself experienced. But Elizabeth, sir; how is my dear child ?" "After life's fitful fever she sleeps well," was the brief rejoinder.

"Dead!"

The old man bowed down his head and wept bitterly.

"I ought to have been prepared for this, perhaps, from the long interval that has passed since fate separated me from my family. But to me the intelligence is new, and therefore painfully distressing. And poor Tom-I dread to ask about him. His early habits gave small promise of a long life." "I grieve to say, Captain Carlos, your conjecture is but too correct. Presuming on your demise, he mortgaged the house property to which he believed himself heir; but as he could not give a satisfactory title, it fell into the hands of sharpers. The money thus obtained was quickly squandered, and he was beginning to resort to a more questionable mode of subsistence when death cut short his career of dissipation."

The captain was so stunned by these melancholy *

tidings that he seemed to have lost the power of making further inquiry. Mr. Laurel suffered him to indulge his grief for some time unnoticed, and then resumed in a soothing tone

"I have, however, some comfort to offer. It will gratify you to learn that your daughter Matilda is living."

The old man clasped his withered hands, and his lips, long unused to such an office, moved in fervent thanksgiving.

“And where shall I find my dear child ?" asked he, in a voice tremulous with agitation.

"The last time I heard of her she was at Milbrook, in Hampshire. She is still there, I believe." Milbrook! What a host of thoughts that name conjured up! The ignis fatuus that had lured him on, though he plunged deeper into crime at every step. And even now, aged and worn out as he was, there seemed to be a spell in that word, calling back all the desires and passions of his youth. Matilda residing in Milbrook as the representative of her father-the claim had never been disputed then; his character was untarnished; he was on the verge of enjoying that long-coveted possession. The old man's face brightened, and the dreams of repentance that had haunted him during his dark season of adversity were forgotten!

The magistrate interrupted his reverie:

"I would advise you, Captain Carlos, to provide costume more suitable for appearing in your daughter's presence. Your present habiliments would