"Well, Dick, you're the head of the house now; don't run the old ship on the rocks. Remember, it is an old name, and, above all, remember, that Alice is thrown upon your protection. Be a good brother, Dick. She is a true-hearted, affectionate creature: be you the same to her. You can't do your duty by her unless you do it also by yourself. For the first time in your life, a momentous responsibility devolves upon you. In God's name, Dick, give up play and do your duty!" "I have learned a lesson, uncle; I have not suffered in vain. I'll never take a dice-box in my hand again; I'd as soon take a burning coal. I shall never back a horse again while I live. I am quite cured, thank God, of that madness. I sha'n't talk about it; let time declare how I am changed." "I am glad to hear you speak so. You are right, that is the true test. Spoken like a man!" said Uncle David, and he took his hand very kindly. The entrance of Martha Tansey at this moment gave the talk a new turn. "By-the-bye, Martha," said he, "has Mr. Plumes come? He said he would be here at eight o'clock." "He's waitin', Sir; and 'twas to tell you so I came in. Shall I tell him to come here?" "I asked him to come, Dick; I knew you would allow me. He has some information to give me respecting the wretch who murdered your poor Uncle Harry." "May I remain?" asked Richard. "Do; certainly." "Then, Martha, will you tell him to come here?" said Richard, and in another minute the sable garments and melancholy visage of Mr. Plumes entered the room slowly. When Mr. Plumes was seated, he said, with much deliberation, in reply to Uncle David's question-- "Yes, Sir, I have brought it with me. You said, I think, you wished me to fetch it, and as my sister was at home, she hobleeged me with a loan of it. It belonged, you may remember, to her deceased daughter--my niece. I have got it in my breast-pocket; perhaps you would wish me now to take it hout?" "I'm most anxious to look at it," said Uncle David, approaching with extended hand. "You said you had seen him; was this a good likeness?" These questions and the answers to them occupied the time during which Mr. Plumes, whose proceedings were slow as a funeral, disengaged the square parcel in question from his pocket, and then went on to loosen the knots in the tape which tied it up, and afterwards to unfold the wrappings of paper which enveloped it. "I don't remember him well enough, only that he was good-looking. And this was took by machinery, and it _must_ be like. The ball and socket they called it. It must be hexact, Sir." So saying, he produced a square black leather case, which being opened displayed a black profile, the hair and whiskers being indicated by a sort of gilding which, laid upon sable, reminded one of the decorations of a coffin, and harmonised cheerfully with Mr. Plumes' profession.