"Nay," said Crauford, gently, "I meant not to vex or wound you. I
have sought you several times since the last night we met, but in
vain; you had left your lodgings, and none knew whither. I would fain
talk with you. I have a scheme to propose to you which will make you
rich forever,--rich,--literally rich! not merely above poverty, but
high in affluence!"

Glendower looked incredulously at the speaker, who continued,--

"The scheme has danger: that you can dare!"

Glendower was still silent; but his set and stern countenance was
sufficient reply. "Some sacrifice of your pride," continued Crauford:
"that also you can bear?" and the tempter almost grinned with pleasure
as he asked the question.

"He who is poor," said Glendower, speaking at last, "has a right to
pride. He who starves has it too; but he who sees those whom he loves
famish, and cannot aid, has it not!"

"Come home with me, then," said Crauford; "you seem faint and weak:
nature craves food; come and partake of mine; we will then talk over
this scheme, and arrange its completion."

"I cannot," answered Glendower, quietly. "And why?"

"Because they starve at home!"

"Heavens!" said Crauford, affected for a moment into sincerity; "it is