"And why should not 'Judge Sutherland's' uncle, or Judge Anyone's uncle, be called a felon, if he is a felon, as well as the poorest man's uncle alive? Is it because the former has more power, more means, more friends, fewer wants, fewer temptations, than the latter? I think not. No, sir! family pride will no more restrain my action, than revenge will impel it. Family considerations, personal pride, never have influenced my conduct, and never will do so. No, sir; I conform my life to a purer rule of action. In every question there is a right and a wrong. I obey the right. Had I a brother or a son guilty of felony, and it became my duty to bear witness against either, I should do it, though my testimony consigned the culprit to death. No, sir; if we refrain from prosecution, it will be for a reason much holier than pride. It will be from a motive that would also actuate us in sparing the veriest forsaken wretch alive!"

Clement Sutherland had sat with his elbows on the table, and his head bowed in his hands, his grey hair dishevelled, and his thin, withered features whitened and drawn in as by internal agony. But now he bursts forth in a fit of fury, as ungovernable as it was unreasonable and impotent. Mark Sutherland stood quietly by, and let his rage exhaust itself. Then, when the guilty man was calm from prostration, his nephew spoke to him coolly, wisely, kindly-making him understand and feel that his detection was inevitable, unless he put him in possession of all the facts, to prepare him to meet knowingly the exigencies of the case. was very difficult to influence the wretched man, who, having parted with his own faith, was unable to rest on the good faith of any other. And it was only after

It

arguing and persuading him all the afternoon and evening, that late at night he won from the guilty man a full account of the circumstances.

"And now, what do you purpose to do?" was his trembling question, when he had confessed all.

"I shall return home to-morrow, and take counsel with Rosalie."

"Take counsel with her!" exclaimed the old man, in alarm.

"Be at ease, sir. She has a voice in this matter Nay, she has-it must be-it is her name that has been used-her property that is lost. And if it were not-if it were my own exclusive affair, still I should consult her before taking any important step!"

"What will become of us?—of India? My child! my child! that your high head should be bowed with shame!" cried the wretched man, in a voice of anguish.

You

"Reassure yourself, sir, I beg. I can answer for Rosalie's noble heart. You are safe from all punishment from her. And now let us part at once. had better return to Cashmere, where your family must be anxiously awaiting you."

"And where will you stay?"

แ To-night I shall go on board the steamer Victress, which will leave for the Upper Mississippi tomorrow."

Suddenly the old man lifted up his head, and showed a countenance brightened with hope. Mr. Sutherland stopped to hear what he had to say. He grasped the arm of his nephew, exclaiming—

"Oh! Mark, I have it now. I have found the means by which family honour and Rosalie's fortune

both may be saved. Rosalie need not deny her sig nature; that will protect me, and save family honour. But the signature was written before she came of age; therefore the deeds are null and void and the usurer cannot foreclose the mortgage, or recover his money. So you see that I can-I mean family honour-can be saved, and Rosalie lose nothing either."

An involuntary expression of scorn and loathing flashed from Mark Sutherland's fine Roman face for a moment; and then, composing himself, he replied, coolly

"No, sir; if you are saved, it must be at our own proper cost and loss."

And so they parted.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

UNCLE BILLY.

"He's had misfortunes, great and sma',
But aye a soul above them far;

He'll be a credit to us a',

We'll a' be proud o' Willie !"-Burns.

MARK SUTHERLAND went on board the Victress. and almost immediately betook himself to the solitude of the forsaken hurricane deck, there to walk, and while the water breeze fanned his fevered brow, to reflect upon the sinfulness, the danger, of an ungoverned lust of gold-upon the crimes to which it often leads, and upon the felony made known to him

that evening. The orgies of a noisy party of cardplayers in the saloon below occasionally broke upon his silence; and the sweet laughter of young girls, walking on the guards of the ladies' cabin, was borne upwards on the wind. But the hurricane deck was lonely, and there he paced up and down, wrapped in mournful thought, until the arrival of a noisy set, who, weary of the heated saloon, sought the free, fresh air above, and disturbed his solitude. Then he went below, and sought his berth.

Early in the morning he arose from a sleepless couch, to find all the officers and hands on the boat engaged in receiving last freight and passengers, while the engine was getting up her steam to be off. Mark Sutherland finished his morning toilet, and went out upon the guards, just as the boat was beginning to move from the wharf. The usual crowd of idlers, porters, and loafers, stood upon the shore, watching her departure. And Mark Sutherland fixed himself in a favourable position for watching the receding wharf of what might be called his native village, when the figure of a fat man, in white linen jacket and trousers, with his light hair blowing free behind his rosy face, waving a straw hat, came running desperately towards the wharf. The boat arrested her motions, the plank was thrown out, and Uncle Billy followed by a man with his trunk and portmanteau, stepped on board. Panting and blowing, and wiping his face, he hastened up to Mr. Sutherland, exclaiming, "My dear boy! I liked to have missed you! Near as possible! Wouldn't have lost you for the world, my dearest lad! Stick to you as long as I live, Mark, for your dear mother, my sister's sake! Whew!

Whew-ew! what a chase I've had! Only heard this morning, from Clement, that you were going by the Victress! Running ain't good for me. Dangerous!" And so, talking and shaking his nephew's hand, and wiping his own rosy face, and blowing and panting, Mr. Bolling at last sat down, and began to fan himself with his broad-brimmed straw hat.

Mark Sutherland received his relative's demonstrations of attachment as best he might; he welcomed him, and went to the captain's office to see if he could secure a state-room for his enforced travelling companion; and by the time he had successfully accomplished his errand, the passengers were summoned to the breakfast-table, and the boat had cleared the wharf and was well under way up the Mississippi.

It was a slow voyage up the river, and on the afternoon of the twelfth day the steamer arrived at the wharf of Shelton. Mark Sutherland wished, if possible, to get rid of his troublesome travelling companion for a few hours, while he could go home quietly, and have an uninterrupted meeting and talk with his dear Rosalie.

So, leaving all their baggage in the care of the clerk of the boat, Mark drew Uncle Billy's fat arm within his own, and conducted him to Col. Garner's hotel, to a private parlour, containing a comfortable lounge and easy chair. Here he ordered a luncheon of cold ham, fowl, sardines, pickled oysters, and next all the late newspapers the house could muster; and having seen them all arranged upon the table, to which the easy chair was drawn up, and while Uncle Billy stretched his lazy length