CHAPTER IV. Were I at once empower'd to show LLOYD. THE clock had struck. The scholar, leaning against an iron pillar, felt his hopes rapidly decline, and began to experience a sense of sickness about his heart. His eyelids drooped, and his limbs tottered, when he was roused by a hand laid on his shoulder. The touch thrilled through him like an electric shock. He was instantly himself, as he recognised his companion of the afternoon, and he followed without a word the impulse of his guiding. In a few moments they were in a low carriage, which had stopped at the corner of the square. As it drove As it drove on, Cavendish noticed the sorry plight of the scholar. "What! so wet and faint, yet true to your appointment! That is well-it looks like business." "I had almost given you up," the young man answered, recovering his spirits. "Yet the clock had hardly finished striking." "The night was so bad that I could scarcely expect you to keep your appointment." This idea of the weather having any influence on his actions, curled for an instant the lip of Cavendish. "Do you think," he asked, "I am like those Spanish armies the Duke had to manage, who could not be persuaded to move when the sky was clouded? If man could arrest the march of time and events, he might afford to wait on the caprices of the sky. How have you passed the time since we parted? You have mentioned this appointment to no one ?" "No; I have been walking ever since." "That is well; the slightest doubt had ruined your hopes. Do you say you been afoot the whole time?" have "Yes." The scholar hesitated a moment, for every one feels there is something degrading in the confession of poverty; but he resolved to be frank, and added, "When you left me I was penniless, and I had no choice but to linger about." There are hearts soft by nature, but hardened by reflection. The commander who gives the word which hurries thousands to a bloody grave, weeps on beholding a case of suffering brought beneath his eye. So many forms of distress exist amid the magnificence of great cities, that the mind grows indifferent, and the heart callous to them, from a conviction that individual exertion can do little or nothing for their relief. The whine of the wretched beggar at the carriage window, scarcely disturbs the lady's enjoyment of the pathos of Balzac. The mind of Cavendish readily adopted the error or the vice of high and haughty natures; and, surveying the various conditions of mankind as the decree of Heaven, was more inclined to mock than to cherish sentiments of philanthropy. Yet he now looked on the youth by his side with a mingled feeling of compassion and wonder, as if he could with difficulty comprehend that penniless condition which he had described. "Poor lad!" he exclaimed, with something of sarcasm in his tone, yet as if he disdained the pity he expressed; "I will make But I shall require some you amends. further proof of your obedience." "I will do whatever you desire, Sir," the scholar answered, now resigning himself absolutely to the direction of his patron. Fear "Close your eyes, then, and keep them closed until I bid you open them. nothing! I am no magician to entomb you, like Aladdin! I have already his lamp. But you must expect, like him, to pass through dark halls before you come to the gardens of light! Give me your hand." The carriage stopped, and the scholar, who had shut his eyes as he was commanded, was led by his guide a short distance along the pavement. 66 Here,” he said, “are three steps. I will guard you from falling." The young man then felt that they had passed, after an instant's delay, through a doorway and a hall. Some steps were next ascended, a turn or two made, and the scholar was told he might open his eyes. He found himself passing through marble corridors of noble extent, lined with choice exotics, and decorated with sculptures gleaming softly in the brilliant yet chastened light poured down on them from above. His guide passed through a spacious portal, entered a hall, and, throwing open a door at one side, invited the youth to enter. "You will find here a bath prepared. It will refresh you after your fatigue. There is a change of dress for you to make use of. You will find supper laid out in the room to the left. Do not wait for me. Satisfy your appetite. I will see you there shortly." The scholar entered a superb dressingchamber, and remarked, almost with a feeling of awe, the costly appointments of the toilettable, and the wealth scattered profusely round him on every side. Beyond this chamber was the bath of alabaster. It was ready filled with warm water, and the steam sent forth a delightful perfume. He yielded himself to the luxury provided him with the same feeling of present happiness, and of supreme indifference to the future, that is felt in a delightful dream. When he had bathed, he felt restored in spirit, though a sense of pleasing languor diffused itself through his frame. He dressed himself in the fine linen and the easy morning garments which had |