He came back to the bed, and taking the burning hand of the miser, said
in a broken voice, "Brother, I wronged you when I believed that you
were an accountable being; I no longer consider you answerable for your
actions, and may God view your unnatural conduct to me in the same
light; by the mercy which He ever shows to His erring creatures. I
forgive you for the past." The stony heart of the miser seemed touched,
but his pride was wounded. "Mad--mad," he said; "so you look upon me as
mad. The world is full of maniacs; I do not differ from my kind. But
take the paper, and let there be peace between you and me."

Twenty years ago, and the high-spirited Algernon Hurdlestone would have
rejected the miser's offer with contempt, but his long intercourse with
the world had taught him the value of money, and his extravagant habits
generally exceeded his fine income. Besides, what Mark offered him was,
after all, but a small portion of what ought to have been his own. With
an air of cheerful good-nature he thanked his brother, and carefully
deposited the draft in his pocket-book.

After having absolved his conscience by what he considered not only a
good action, but one of sufficient magnitude to save his soul, Mark
intimated to his brother that he might now leave him--he had nothing
further to say; a permission which Algernon was not slow to accept.

As he groped his way through the dark gallery that led from the miser's
chamber, a door was opened cautiously at the far end of the passage, and
a female figure, holding a dim light in her hand, beckoned to him to
approach.

Not without reluctance Algernon obeyed the summons, and found himself in