"Bravissimo, little Brad!--you are quite a wit! See what it is to
have one's faculties called out. Come, a toast to old England, the
land in which no man ever wants a farthing who has wit to steal it,--
'Old England forever!' your rogue is your only true patriot!" and
Crauford poured the remainder of the bottle, nearly three parts full,
into a beaker, which he pushed to Bradley. That convivial gentleman
emptied it at a draught, and, faltering out, "Honest Sir John!--room
for my Lady Bradley's carriage," dropped down on the floor insensible.

Crauford rose instantly, satisfied himself that the intoxication was
genuine, and giving the lifeless body a kick of contemptuous disgust,
left the room, muttering, "The dull ass, did he think it was on his
back that I was going to ride off? He! he! he! But stay, let me feel
my pulse. Too fast by twenty strokes! One's never sure of the mind
if one does not regulate the body to a hair! Drank too much; must
take a powder before I start."

Mounting by a back staircase to his bedroom, Crauford unlocked a
chest, took out a bundle of clerical clothes, a large shovel hat, and
a huge wig. Hastily, but not carelessly, induing himself in these
articles of disguise, he then proceeded to stain his fair cheeks with
a preparation which soon gave them a swarthy hue. Putting his own
clothes in the chest, which he carefully locked (placing the key in
his pocket), he next took from a desk on his dressing-table a purse;
opening this, he extracted a diamond of great size and immense value,
which, years before, in preparation of the event that had now taken
place, he had purchased.

His usual sneer curled his lip as he gazed at it. "Now," said he, "is
it not strange that this little stone should supply the mighty wants