The laugh itself startled him--it did not sound like his own.

His face fell, and his knees knocked together--his hair bristled--he felt as if the very fiend had uttered that yell of joy over a fallen soul.
"No--no--no!" he muttered; "no, my mother,--not even for thee!" And, dashing the money to the ground, he fled, like a maniac, from the house.
At a later hour that same evening, Mr.Robert Beaufort returned from his country mansion to Berkeley Square.

He found his wife very uneasy and nervous about the non-appearance of their only son.

Arthur had sent home his groom and horses about seven o'clock, with a hurried scroll, written in pencil on a blank page torn from his pocket-book, and containing only these words,-- "Don't wait dinner for me--I may not be home for some hours.

I have met with a melancholy adventure.