“Father, weep not. All shall yet be well with James. I cannot endure these tears, you once told me that you had not one; that although your hopes were gone for ever, you had not a tear to give them; that you had not mourning apparel to attend them to their grave!” He harshly repulsed her, and retired to his own apartment. The hour of midnight was now chiming. The drum and music had ceased for a few minutes, and the town clocks were distinctly heard; but instantly, upon the stroke, the revelry in the streets commenced afresh, and the mob became still more noisy than before. The light of torches glared in upon them, and for a moment they hid their faces from it, as from something unpleasant and unwelcome. Alice started up, and proposed that she should lead her companion to their room for the night, where she promised soon to join her. Katharine consented, although her fears were so much excited, that she knew sleep to be hopeless and impossible. As Alice returned, she wrapped herself closely in a cloak, and was descending to the door, when she listened at that of her father’s room, and hearing no noise or motion, entered. She beheld him asleep on the sofa, and his breathing was difficult. A table was drawn to his side, and on it lay a portrait of his son, in the character of Hamlet; taken when he bore a prominent part in the histrionic displays of the University. It was in the scene when the Prince of Denmark has become thoroughly convinced that his uncle is the murderer of the former king, and when he glories in the idea, that by the players he has forced conviction into the villain’s heart, and when his mother appears to charge him with his conduct towards that uncle. Her words were written (and the ink was not yet dry) beneath the portrait, “Hamlet, you have your father much offended,” and old Dawson’s shrivelled and white hand was placed pointing to them. This proof of affection, revenge, and imbecility, all mingled together, overcame Alice. For a moment she sunk down upon the couch beside her father, and gently kissed him. She then removed the cane from his grasp, and covered his venerable head. He started up in his dreams, but his eyes were shut. “My son! oh! will none save him. None? Take my gold--yes all of it. It will forge chains as heavy and as long, as these dismal iron ones, which now bind his tender limbs; aye the body which my own Helen gave me, is shackled. Take my gold, there is the key to my chests, ransack them, and sell me. The gold will make a chamber as large as that horrible cell! Oh! will none save my beautiful boy?”