had attained the age of twenty-five in a sphere of quiet,

creditable, and domestic life. His mother died while he was young;

but his father, a man of sense and probity, had given him an

excellent education at school, and brought him up at home to

orderly and frugal habits. Francis, who was of a docile and

affectionate disposition, profited by these advantages with zeal,

and devoted himself heart and soul to his employment. A walk upon

Saturday afternoon, an occasional dinner with members of his

family, and a yearly tour of a fortnight in the Highlands or even

on the continent of Europe, were his principal distractions, and,

he grew rapidly in favour with his superiors, and enjoyed already a

salary of nearly two hundred pounds a year, with the prospect of an

ultimate advance to almost double that amount. Few young men were

more contented, few more willing and laborious than Francis

Scrymgeour. Sometimes at night, when he had read the daily paper,

he would play upon the flute to amuse his father, for whose

qualities he entertained a great respect.

One day he received a note from a well-known firm of Writers to the

Signet, requesting the favour of an immediate interview with him.

The letter was marked "Private and Confidential," and had been

addressed to him at the bank, instead of at home - two unusual

circumstances which made him obey the summons with the more

alacrity. The senior member of the firm, a man of much austerity

of manner, made him gravely welcome, requested him to take a seat,

and proceeded to explain the matter in hand in the picked

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