for the money, while I wipe the blade. I cannot wipe it, the grey hairs are mingled with the blood,--those hairs brushed my lips the last time he kissed me. I was a child then. I would not have taken a world to murder him then, now,--now, what am I? Ha! ha! ha! Let Judas shake his bag of silver against mine,--he betrayed his Saviour, and I have murdered my father. Silver against silver, and soul against soul. I have got more for mine,--he was a fool to sell his for thirty. But for which of us will the last fire burn hotter?--no matter, I am going to try.” At these horrible expressions, repeated over and over, I called, I shrieked to my companion to awake. He did so, with a laugh almost as wild as the chattering of his dreams. “Well, what have you heard? I murdered him,--you knew that long before. You trusted me in this cursed adventure, which will risk the life of both, and can you not bear to hear me speak to myself, though I am only telling what you knew before?”--“No, I cannot bear it,” I answered, in an agony of horror; “not even to effect my escape, could I undertake to sustain another hour like the past,--the prospect of seclusion here for a whole day amid famine, damps, and darkness, listening to the ravings of a ----. Look not at me with that glare of mockery, I know it all, I shudder at your sight. Nothing but the iron link of necessity could have bound me to you even for a moment. I _am_ bound to you,--I must bear it while it continues, but do not make those moments insupportable. My life and liberty are in your hands,--I must add my reason, too, in the circumstances in which we are plunged,--I cannot sustain your horrible eloquence of sleep. If I am forced to listen to it again, you may bear me alive from these walls, but you will bear me away an ideot, stupified by terrors which my brain is unable to support. Do not sleep, I adjure you. Let me watch beside you during this wretched day,--this day which is to be measured by darkness and suffering, instead of light and enjoyment. I am willing to famish with hunger, to shudder with cold, to couch on these hard stones, but I cannot bear your dreams,--if you sleep, I must rouse you in defence of my reason. All physical strength is failing me fast, and I am become more jealous of the preservation of my intellect. Do not cast at me those looks of defiance, I am your inferior in strength, but despair makes us equal.” As I spoke, my voice sounded like thunder in my own ears, my eyes flashed visibly to myself. I felt the power that passion gives us, and I saw that my companion felt it too. I went on, in a tone that made myself start, “If you dare to sleep, I will wake you,--if you dose even, you shall not have a moment undisturbed,--you shall wake with me. For this long day we must starve and shiver together, I have wound myself up to it. I can bear every thing,--every thing but the dreams of him whose sleep reveals to him the vision of a murdered parent. Wake,--rave,--blaspheme,--but sleep you