of that grasping thing, man? Who talks of religion, country, wife,
children? This petty mineral can purchase them all! Oh, what a
bright joy speaks out in your white cheek, my beauty! What are all
human charms to yours? Why, by your spell, most magical of talismans,
my years may walk, gloating and revelling, through a lane of beauties,
till they fall into the grave! Pish! that grave is an ugly thought,--
a very, very ugly thought! But come, my sun of hope, I must eclipse
you for a while! Type of myself, while you hide, I hide also; and
when I once more let you forth to the day, then shine out Richard
Crauford,--shine out!" So saying, he sewed the diamond carefully in
the folds of his shirt; and, rearranging his dress, took the cooling
powder, which he weighed out to a grain, with a scrupulous and
untrembling hand; descended the back stairs; opened the door, and
found himself in the open street.

The clock struck ten as he entered a hackney-coach and drove to
another part of London. "What, so late!" thought he; "I must be at
Dover in twelve hours: the vessel sails then. Humph! some danger yet!
What a pity that I could not trust that fool! He! he! he!--what will
he think tomorrow, when he wakes and finds that only one is destined
to swing!"

The hackney-coach stopped, according to his direction, at an inn in
the city. Here Crauford asked if a note had been left for Dr.
Stapylton. One (written by himself) was given to him.

"Merciful Heaven!" cried the false doctor, as he read it, "my daughter
is on a bed of death!"

The landlord's look wore anxiety; the doctor seemed for a moment