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"What the deuce has sent you here?" said James Morgan, laying down his sixpence for a glass of spirit, to Walter Claremont who was just entering the bar-room, a place where he had never been seen before.

"Your good angel, I trust," replied Walter, as he looked calmly round on the bloated faces that lined the room. Then taking James' arm, he led him reluctantly out just as the tempting draught was within his reach.

Not a word was said as they walked on and on to a wood where they seated themselves. Walter was the first to break the silence. "Do you love Mary Kingley?"

James started at the directness of the question, and replied by asking another, "Why, what do you mean by that?"

"Because I have made a solemn pledge that makes it necessary to ask it. Oh James! Are you aware of the abyss into which you are so madly plunging,