Henry Dunbar

n hour. The clerk who gave Joseph Wilmot this inf

outhampton to execute some important business he was to h

always brooding, brooding, brooding: as he had brooded in the railway carriage, as he had brooded in the little parlour of the inn. He took his ticket f

riage, took his seat in the corner, with his hat slouched ove

nted with the town, and he walked straight to a small public-house

e he ascertained that the

hrink from meeting any one, or talking to any one; and still brooded over his own black thoughts: as he had b

that he seemed like a man who walks in his sleep, doing

, but had lain in every variety of restless attitude, tossing first on this side and then on that: always thinking, thinking

lodging to a sleepy servant-girl, and left the house as the

tfitter. It was a stylish establishment, and there was a languid young man taking down

seph Wilmot, eyeing him lazily from h

rce," he said; "our principal n

"I can pay for what I want. Call your master down: or stay, you'll do as wel

the money for it," the languid

bitterly. Then, pulling his brother's memorandum-book from his pocket, he opened it, and

s natural conformation betrayed an aspiring ch

y might be flash uns," h

out an oath, and made a pl

monstrated, quite meekly; "there's no call to

"egad! you'd better not m

: he was quite subdued an

t looked abo

if -" He stopped and smiled with a strange, deliberate expression, n

Wilmot walked up to it, looked at himself for a few moments in silent

n outcast; and you look it! But who set the mark upon you? Who's to blame for all

appeared, and looked s

my luck for some time past, and I've just got a bit of money. I've got it honestly, min

to look ferocious in his fiery indignation; but h

of the shop b

"and I have no doubt we shall be able to give you

bout that. He's like the rest of the world, and he thinks if a man we

round, and quite sheltered, by his master

ally, now? Thank you for nothing!" and

ll the et-ceteras. Now, as you may be no more inclined to trust me than that young whipper-snapper of yours, for all you're so uncommon civil, I'll tell you what I'll do. I

f the Bank of England notes. Th

our neighbours, and get 'em changed," Joseph Wilmot said; "b

ving the man still staring, wi

and big hands in his pockets, strolled away from th

ed into the most aristocratic shape, and his long, stragglin

ct in life than the embellishment of his person, he could

s face, readjusted the hair upon his ample forehead, and looked

He was no longer a vagabond. He was a respectable, handsome-looking ge

e defiant sneer was changed into a haughty smil

out by the alteration in his hair and beard, or whether it wa

docks, and made inquiries about the steamer Electra. She was not expected to arrive until the next day, at the earl

ious old bachelor, the best and brightest hours of whose life had been devoted to the cares of the toilet, could have shown himself more fastidious

s. On the contrary, the garb he assumed was in perfect keeping with the style of his hair and moustache. It wa

well-shaped feet, he left the shady little parlour in which he had changed his clothes, and ca

and his shopbo

n pound, twelve, and elevenpence, it would be worth all the money t

is moustache as he spoke, looking at himself thoughtfully, with a smile upon his face. Then he took

o'clock that morning a blackguard as well as a vagabond. He left it now a gentleman;

thank you to bundle all those old things of mine together into a sheet of

he was now as well dressed and as gentlemanly-looking as any man in Southampton, he turned

and unfrequented, ordered some brandy and cold water of a girl who was seated at work behind the bar, and then went into the parlour - a low-ceilinged, wainscoted room, whose wa

lf. He seated himself by the open window, to

and in the second, Joseph Wilmot would have been unable to chain his attention to the page upon which his ey

his strange chance which had come to him after five-and-thirty weary

f the day, drinking brandy-and-water - not immoderately: he was very careful and watchful of himself

varied, let him

he water, in the tailor's shop, even when he was most occupied by the choice of his clothes, he had still thought of Henry

e stroke had been fatal - whether the old man was yet dead. He never thought o

nd concentrated all the force of his mind upon the

sudden terro

home? What if the Electra should bring nothing but a

two men throughout half a long lifetime, had held them asunder f

ot so very unsound, after all. Sooner or later -

walked back to Southampton. It was quite dark when he en

" the man said; "I've had it ready for you e

ou; I'll tak

under his arm, Joseph Wilmot left the tailor's shop, and

Southampton, he had filled his pockets with stones. He knelt down now by the edge o

do all sorts of strange things, he tied the handkerchief full of stones to the wh

s purpose was at the extreme end of

taking care to make sure every no

ched the widening circle upon the su

nd the clothes he wore," he sai

n where he had spent the day, and the

ocks, and the Electra was visible to the naked eye, stea