settled that they should take their prisoner on board immediately. This was done, and in a short time the murderer Jones was on his way back to that country which he had so lately left in triumphant guilt!

It is now necessary that we understand how it happened, that Ernest Montague should know so much of his cousin's affairs; this is easily explained. Gaston and Ernest had been attached friends while they were youths; but the former, who was an orphan, having taken to bad company, during his cousin's absence on the continent, Ernest's father, who was also guardian to Gaston, had absolutely forbidden his son from associating with the headstrong youth, lest he too should become wild and dissipated. Ernest was placed with a merchant, whose concerns called the young man frequently abroad; which circumstance pleased his father, as it prevented the dangerous intimacy with his cousin from becoming too great.

Old Mr. Montague had been dead about a twelvemonth before the period at which the story commences. The two young men frequently cor

responded, and strong hopes were sometimes felt, by Ernest, that Gaston would not continue long in his profligate way of life. On the sixteenth of July, during his journey from London to Cambridge, the erring young man had thought of his follies and vices with unusual regret, and made many resolutions to alter his conduct and give up his discreditable companions. He had often made such resolutions before, but Jones was always at hand, to make him break them, and to urge him on to fresh vices. Now he reflected, that as they had quarrelled, his old tempter would no longer have any control over him. Pleased with himself, he resolved to begin his good work, by restoring Jones the three hundred pounds, and desiring him never again to intrude himself on his intimacy. Gaston was alone in the Cambridge coach, when he made up his mind to perform this meritorious action; and was singing, with real lightness of spirit, when the coach stopped to change horses, and he saw a man leering upon him, with an expression in his eyes that struck' him forcibly. This man, as has been before stated, was Jones. On his arrival at Paxton, in order to while away

the time during the evening, Gaston wrote the following letter to his cousin Ernest, whom he knew to be at Utrecht.

"Paxton, Cambridgeshire, July 16th, 18—.

"DEAR ERNEST,

"You are the only person in the world who eares a throw of a dice for me! I know you to be a good fellow, and I never think of our boyish friendship and our present separation, without feeling that I am an unworthy scoundrel. Your father was right; he kept us asunder, or I might have made you as worthless as I myself have been. I am on my way to races, and have made up my mind never again to touch a dice box or a pack of cards, in the company of sharpers and professed gamblers.

"Nay,' you say, 'why go to the races, if your repentance be sincere?' Why, Ernest, I am a greater villain than you suppose, or than I ought to confess to you; but that, I hope by my frankness to make some amends, and to induce you to give me your friendship again. In a word, I cheated that wretch Jones, whom you have heared

me mention, and to whom I owe my ruin;I cheated him in the most barefaced manner last night, and as I know he intends to be at I wish to begin my reformation by giving him back his three hundred pounds. I hated myself, Ernest, while I was robbing the rascal; but that fierce spirit, that itching, that frenzy, which only a gambler can feel, urged me on! Mean and vile as I know this fellow to be, I have associated with him, and others like him, for above two years. I have actually called him friend, and suffered him to style me so too! and this "friend," I heard last night, utter oaths and vows that he would be my destruction. That, however, I do not fear: I am no coward, and would face a dozen such cream faced loons,' as he is; but he is treacherous, and I cannot guard against concealed foes.-I have seen a fellow to-day, with a pair of grey eyes like hispshaw !—what a fool I am. Ernest, I have been noble family, and to

a disgrace to you, to our

myself; but if I live,—if I know my own heart, if, but come and see, and judge for yourself,

whether I be worthy of credit, for I will not make professions.

"If we are never to meet again, however, I may as well tell you, that my will is in the possession of my solicitor, Mr. Merelaw, of Lincoln's Inn. You are, (you have long known it,) my sole heir. Our grandfather's snuff-box, you will of course find named in his, in my father's, and in my will; I mention it now, merely to remind you, in case you should have forgotten the circumstance, that the secret spring which opens the false lid, is in the hinge. It was a strange whim of our grandfather to have the family arms and name placed within the lids!

"What a wretched thing it is to dwell in the midst of persons who style themselves friends, and to feel not only that they are insincere, but that one does not deserve they should be otherwise! Yet this is the fate of all gamblers, my dear fellow, though every one may not feel the misery of it so keenly, as

"Your erring,

"But affectionate cousin,

"GASTON MONTAGUE."