The unhappy man was conscious only of the folly he had committed and the wrong he had sustained; and thought only of his culpable weakness in having been drawn, by a specious villain, to the very verge of ruin.
Onward he strode, toward the city, with rapid pace, and soon his thoughts began to go forward towards his home.
"Poor Mary!" he sighed, as the image of his wife, when she said to him--"I count the hours when you are away," arose before his eyes.
Then, as the image grew more and more distinct, his hands were clenched tightly, and he murmured through his shut teeth-- "Wretch! cruel wretch, that I am! I shall break her heart! Oh, why did I not resist this temptation?
Why was I so thoughtless of the best, the truest, the most loving friend I ever knew or ever can know--my Mary!" Rapid as his steps had been from the first, the thought of his wife caused Wilkinson to increase his pace, and he moved along, the only passenger at that hour upon the road, at almost a running speed.

Soon the perspiration was gushing freely from every pore, and this, in a short time, relieved the still confused pressure on the brain of the alcohol which had been taken so freely into his system.

Thoroughly sobered was he, ere he had passed over half the distance; and the clearer his mind became, the more troubled grew his feelings.
"What," he repeated to himself, over and over, "what if our dear Ella should be in convulsions again ?" So great was the anguish of the unhappy man, that he was all unconscious of bodily fatigue.

He was nearly half way to the city when overtaken by Carlton.

The latter called to him three or four times, and invited him to get up and ride; but Wilkinson strode on, without so much as uttering a word in reply, or seeming to hear what was said to him.