WILKINSON, on leaving the presence of the man who, under the guise of friendship, had so basely led him astray, and robbed him--it was robbery, in fact, for Carlton had not only enticed his victim to drink until his mind was confused, but had played against him with trick and false dealing--passed, not by the bar-room of the hotel, but through one of the passages, into the open air, and with hurried steps, and mind all in a whirl of excitement, started on foot for home.

He was not in a state to consider exactly what he was doing--he did not reflect that he was at least ten miles from the city, and that it would take him hours to walk that distance.

His predominant feeling was a desire to escape from the presence of the man who had so basely betrayed and almost ruined him.
It was a calm, clear, summer night; and the full moon, which had reached the zenith, shone with an unusual radiance.

Not a leaf moved on the forest trees, for even the zephyrs were asleep.

All was stillness and tranquil beauty.
Yet nature did not mirror herself on the feelings of Wilkinson, for their surface was in wild commotion.