“Not that either; I never got so far as to ask for it. The misfortune is in this wise: on going to the bank to learn the sum that lay to my credit and draw for it, I was met by the reply that I had nothing there,--not a shilling. Before I could demand how this could be the case, the whole truth suddenly flashed across my memory, and I recalled to mind how one night, as I lay awake, the thought occurred to me that it was base and dishonorable in me, now that I was come to manhood, to accept of the means of life from one who felt shame in my connection with him. 'Why,' thought I, 'is there to be the bond of dependence where there is no tie of affection to soften its severity?' And so I arose from my bed, and wrote to Sir Horace, saying that by the same post I should remit to his banker at Naples whatever remained of my last year's allowance, and declined in future to accept of any further assistance. This I did the same day, and never told you of it,--partly, lest you should try to oppose me in my resolve; partly,” and here his voice faltered, “to spare myself the pain of revealing my motives. And now that I have buoyed my heart up with this project, I find myself without means to attempt it. Not that I regret my act, or would recall it,” cried he, proudly, “but that the sudden disappointment is hard to bear. I was feeding my hopes with such projects for the future when this stunning news met me, and the thought that I am now chained here by necessity has become a torture.” “What answer did Sir Horace give to your letter?” asked Billy. “I forget; I believe he never replied to it, or if he did, I have no memory of what he said. Stay,--there was a letter of his taken from me when I was arrested at Carrara. The seal was unbroken at the time.” “I remember the letter was given to the Minister, who has it still in his keeping.” “What care I,” cried Massy, angrily, “in whose hands it may be?” “The Minister is not here now,” said Billy, half speaking to himself, “he is travelling with the Duke; but when he comes back--” “When he comes back!” burst in Massy, impatiently; “with what calm philosophy you look forward to a remote future. I tell you that this scheme is now a part and parcel of my very existence. I can turn to no other project, or journey no other road in life, till at least I shall have tried it!” “Well, it is going to work in a more humble fashion,” said Billy, calmly. “Leave me to dispose of all these odds and ends here--” “This trash!” cried the youth, fiercely. “Who would accept it as a gift?” “Don't disparage it; there are signs of genius even in these things; but, above all, don't meddle with me, but just leave me free to follow my own way. There now, go back and employ yourself preparing for the road; trust the rest to me.” Massy obeyed without speaking. It was not, indeed, that he ventured to believe in Traynor's resources, but he was indisposed to further discussion, and longed to be in solitude once more.