crop of his venial errors for the sickle of destiny.

On a seat on the hill above Greenside he sat for perhaps half

an hour, looking down upon the lamps of Edinburgh, and up at

the lamps of heaven. Wonderful were the resolves he formed;

beautiful and kindly were the vistas of future life that sped

before him. He uttered to himself the name of Flora in so

many touching and dramatic keys, that he became at length

fairly melted with tenderness, and could have sung aloud. At

that juncture a certain creasing in his greatcoat caught his

ear. He put his hand into his pocket, pulled forth the

envelope that held the money, and sat stupefied. The Calton

Hill, about this period, had an ill name of nights; and to be

sitting there with four hundred pounds that did not belong to

him was hardly wise. He looked up. There was a man in a

very bad hat a little on one side of him, apparently looking

at the scenery; from a little on the other a second night-

walker was drawing very quietly near. Up jumped John. The

envelope fell from his hands; he stooped to get it, and at

the same moment both men ran in and closed with him.

A little after, he got to his feet very sore and shaken, the

poorer by a purse which contained exactly one penny postage-

stamp, by a cambric handkerchief, and by the all-important

envelope.

Tales and Fantasies