shall rise from my fall,--strong in his power, great in his grandeur. It
is because I was born a woman,--had woman's poor passions and infirm
weakness,--that I am what I am. I would transfer myself into the soul of
man,--man, who has the strength to act, and the privilege to rise. Into
the bronze of man's nature I would pour the experience which has broken,
with its fierce elements, the puny vessel of clay. Yes, Gabriel, in
return for all I have done and sacrificed for you, I ask but co-operation
in that one hope of my shattered and storm-beat being. Bear, forbear,
await; risk not that hope by some wretched, peddling crime which will
bring on us both detection,--some wanton revelry in guilt, which is not
worth the terror that treads upon its heels."

"You forget," answered Varney, with a kind of submissive sullenness,--for
whatever had passed between these two persons in their secret and fearful
intimacy, there was still a power in Lucretia, surviving her fall amidst
the fiends, that impressed Varney with the only respect he felt for man
or woman,--"you forget strangely the nature of our elaborate and master
project when you speak of 'peddling crime,' or 'wanton revelry' in guilt!
You forget, too, how every hour that we waste deepens the peril that
surrounds me, and may sweep from your side the sole companion that can
aid you in your objects,--nay, without whom they must wholly fail. Let
me speak first of that most urgent danger, for your memory seems short
and troubled, since you have learned only to hope the recovery of your
son. If this man Stubmore, in whom the trust created by my uncle's will
is now vested, once comes to town, once begins to bustle about his
accursed projects of transferring the money from the Bank of England, I
tell you again and again that my forgery on the bank will be detected,
and that transportation will be the smallest penalty inflicted. Part of
the forgery, as you know, was committed on your behalf, to find the
moneys necessary for the research for your son,--committed on the clear