Isaac Dent did indeed feel himself a triumphant man. If such a nature as his could possibly know anything of love, he had something which he called by that name for the handsome girl whom he had deceived, and whose happiness he had wrecked. His powers of loving, however, might have been described as uncertain, dubious, and absolutely unworthy of so high and sacred a name. But there was no doubt at all with regard to his powers of revenge, or as to his cunning and double dealing.

It was the night before his wedding; and the prize—the choice, rich, great prize of the bravest and most beautiful girl in the city—was almost his. Will was safe in prison; Bet was safe at Warrington. One week of happiness with her, and then he would secure for himself a good berth on board a prosperous ship, and sail away, the luckiest fellow in the land.

If Dent had a conscience at all, it was a very dull one, and it certainly gave him no trouble some qualms that night. He still possessed seven or eight pounds of the stolen money, and he intended to have a right good time with B............