initial commit of ebook 20745HEADmain

10 files changed, 36952 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/20745-8.txt b/20745-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3325732
--- /dev/null
+++ b/20745-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,12209 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of An Outcast, by F. Colburn Adams
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: An Outcast
+       or, Virtue and Faith
+
+Author: F. Colburn Adams
+
+Release Date: March 5, 2007 [EBook #20745]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OUTCAST ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Graeme Mackreth, Curtis Weyant and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images produced by the Wright
+American Fiction Project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+AN OUTCAST;
+
+OR,
+
+VIRTUE AND FAITH.
+
+BY
+
+F. COLBURN ADAMS.
+
+
+"Be merciful to the erring."
+
+NEW YORK:
+PUBLISHED BY M. DOOLADY,
+49 WALKER STREET.
+1861.
+
+
+Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1861,
+
+BY M. DOOLADY,
+
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
+Southern District of New York.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+When reason and conscience are a man's true guides to what he
+undertakes, and he acts strictly in obedience to them, he has little to
+fear from what the unthinking may say. You cannot, I hold, mistake a man
+intent only on doing good. You may differ with him on the means he calls
+to his aid; but having formed a distinct plan, and carried it out in
+obedience to truth and right, it will be difficult to impugn the
+sincerity of his motives. For myself, I care not what weapon a man
+choose, so long as he wield it effectively, and in the cause of humanity
+and justice. We are a sensitive nation, prone to pass great moral evils
+over in silence rather than expose them boldly, or trace them to their
+true sources. I am not indifferent to the duty every writer owes to
+public opinion, nor the penalties he incurs in running counter to it.
+But fear of public opinion, it seems to me, has been productive of much
+evil, inasmuch as it prefers to let crime exist rather than engage in
+reforms. Taking this view of the matter, I hold fear of public opinion
+to be an evil much to be deplored. It aids in keeping out of sight that
+which should be exposed to public view, and is satisfied to pass
+unheeded the greatest of moral evils. Most writers touch these great
+moral evils with a timidity that amounts to fear, and in describing
+crimes of the greatest magnitude, do it so daintily as to divest their
+arguments of all force. The public cannot reasonably be expected to
+apply a remedy for an evil, unless the cause as well as the effect be
+exposed truthfully to its view. It is the knowledge of their existence
+and the magnitude of their influence upon society, which no false
+delicacy should keep out of sight, that nerves the good and generous to
+action. I am aware that in exciting this action, great care should be
+taken lest the young and weak-minded become fascinated with the gilding
+of the machinery called to the writer's aid. It is urged by many good
+people, who take somewhat narrow views of this subject, that in dealing
+with the mysteries of crime vice should only be described as an ugly
+dame with most repulsive features. I differ with those persons. It would
+be a violation of the truth to paint her thus, and few would read of her
+in such an unsightly dress. These persons do not, I think, take a
+sufficiently clear view of the grades into which the vicious of our
+community are divided, and their different modes of living. They found
+their opinions solely on the moral and physical condition of the most
+wretched and abject class, whose sufferings they would have us hold up
+to public view, a warning to those who stand hesitating on the brink
+between virtue and vice. I hold it better to expose the allurements
+first, and then paint vice in her natural colors--a dame so gay and
+fascinating that it is difficult not to become enamored of her. The ugly
+and repulsive dame would have few followers, and no need of writers to
+caution the unwary against her snares. And I cannot forget, that truth
+always carries the more forcible lesson. But we must paint the road to
+vice as well as the castle, if we would give effect to our warning. That
+road is too frequently strewn with the brightest of flowers, the thorns
+only discovering themselves when the sweetness of the flowers has
+departed. I have chosen, then, to describe things as they are. You,
+reader, must be the judge whether I have put too much gilding on the
+decorations.
+
+I confess that the subject of this work was not congenial to my
+feelings. I love to deal with the bright and cheerful of life; to leave
+the dark and sorrowful to those whose love for them is stronger than
+mine. Nor am I insensible to the liabilities incurred by a writer who,
+having found favor with the public, ventures upon so delicate and
+hazardous an undertaking. It matters not how carefully and discreetly he
+perform the task, there will always be persons enough to question his
+sincerity and cast suspicion upon his motives. What, I have already been
+asked, was my motive for writing such a book as this? Why did I descend
+into the repulsive haunts of the wretched and the gilded palaces of the
+vicious for the material of a novel? My answer is in my book.
+
+NEW YORK, _January 1st_, 1861.
+
+
+
+
+AN OUTCAST.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+CHARLESTON.
+
+
+This simple story commences on a November evening, in the autumn of
+185-. Charleston and New York furnish me with the scenes and characters.
+
+Our quaint old city has been in a disquiet mood for several weeks.
+Yellow fever has scourged us through the autumn, and we have again taken
+to scourging ourselves with secession fancies. The city has not looked
+up for a month. Fear had driven our best society into the North, into
+the mountains, into all the high places. Business men had nothing to do;
+stately old mansions were in the care of faithful slaves, and there was
+high carnival in the kitchen. Fear had shut up the churches, shut up the
+law-courts, shut up society generally. There was nothing for lawyers to
+do, and the buzzards found it lonely enough in the market-place. The
+clergy were to be found at fashionable watering-places, and politicians
+found comfort in cards and the country. Timid doctors had taken to their
+heels, and were not to be found. Book-keepers and bank-clerks were on
+Sullivan's Island. The poor suffered in the city, and the rich had not a
+thought to give them. Grave-looking men gathered into little knots, at
+street corners, and talked seriously of Death's banquet. Old negroes
+gathered about the kitchen-table, and terrified themselves with tales of
+death: timid ones could not be got to pass through streets where the
+scourge raged fiercest. Mounted guardsmen patrolled the lonely streets
+at night, their horses' hoofs sounding on the still air, like a solemn
+warning through a deserted city.
+
+Sisters of Mercy, in deep, dark garments, moved noiselessly along the
+streets, by day and by night, searching out and ministering to the sick
+and the dying. Like brave sentinels, they never deserted their posts.
+The city government was in a state of torpor. The city government did
+not know what to do. The city government never did know what to do. Four
+hundred sick and dying lay languishing in the hospital. The city
+government was sorry for them, and resolved that Providence would be the
+best doctor. The dead gave place to the dying by dozens, and there has
+been high carnival down in the dead-yard. The quick succession of
+funeral trains has cast a shade of melancholy over the broad road that
+leads to it. Old women are vending pies and cakes at the gates, and
+little boys are sporting over the newly-made graves, that the wind has
+lashed into furrows. Rude coffins stand about in piles, and tipsy
+negroes are making the very air jubilant with the songs they bury the
+dead to.
+
+A change has come over the scene now. There is no more singing down in
+the dead-yard. A bright sun is shedding its cheerful rays over the broad
+landscape, flowers deck the roadside, and the air comes balmy and
+invigorating. There has been frost down in the lowlands. A solitary
+stranger paces listlessly along the walks of the dead-yard, searching
+in vain for the grave of a departed friend. The scourge has left a sad
+void between friends living and friends gone to eternal rest. Familiar
+faces pass us on the street, only to remind us of familiar faces passed
+away forever. The city is astir again. Society is coming back to us.
+There is bustle in the churches, bustle in the law courts, bustle in the
+hotels, bustle along the streets, bustle everywhere. There is bustle at
+the steamboat landings, bustle at the railway stations, bustle in all
+our high places. Vehicles piled with trunks are hurrying along the
+streets; groups of well-dressed negroes are waiting their master's
+return at the landings, or searching among piles of trunks for the
+family baggage. Other groups are giving Mas'r and Missus such a cordial
+greeting. Society is out of an afternoon, on King street, airing its
+dignity. There is Mr. Midshipman Button, in his best uniform, inviting
+the admiration of the fair, and making such a bow to all distinguished
+persons. Midshipman Button, as he is commonly called, has come home to
+us, made known to us the pleasing fact that he is ready to command our
+"navy" for us, whenever we build it for him. There is Major Longstring,
+of the Infantry, as fine a man in his boots as woman would fancy, ready
+to fight any foe; and corporal Quod, of the same regiment, ready to
+shoulder his weapon and march at a moment. We have an immense admiration
+for all these heroes, just now; it is only equalled by their admiration
+of themselves. The buzzards, too, have assumed an unusual air of
+importance--are busy again in the market; and long-bearded politicians
+are back again, at their old business, getting us in a state of
+discontent with the Union and everybody in general.
+
+There is a great opening of shutters among the old mansions. The music
+of the organ resounds in the churches, and we are again in search of the
+highest pinnacle to pin our dignity upon. Our best old families have
+been doing the North extensively, and come home to us resolved never to
+go North again. But it is fashionable to go North, and they will break
+this resolution when spring comes. Mamma, and Julia Matilda have brought
+home an immense stock of Northern millinery, all paid for with the
+hardest of Southern money, which papa declares the greatest evil the
+state suffers under. He has been down in the wilderness for the last ten
+years, searching in vain for a remedy. The North is the hungry dog at
+the door, and he will not be kicked away. So we have again mounted that
+same old hobby-horse. There was so much low-breeding at the North,
+landlords were so extortionate, vulgarity in fine clothes got in your
+way wherever you went, servants were so impertinent, and the trades
+people were so given to cheating. We would shake our garments of the
+North, if only some one would tell us how to do it becomingly.
+
+Master Tom and Julia Matilda differ with the old folks on this great
+question of bidding adieu to the North. Tom had a "high old time
+generally," and is sorry the season closed so soon. Julia Matilda has
+been in a pensive mood ever since she returned. That fancy ball was so
+brilliant; those moonlight drives were so pleasant; those flirtations
+were carried on with such charming grace! A dozen little love affairs,
+like pleasant dreams, are touching her heart with their sweet
+remembrance. The more she contemplates them the sadder she becomes.
+There are no drives on the beach now, no moonlight rambles, no
+promenades down the great, gay verandah, no waltzing, no soul-stirring
+music, no tender love-tales told under the old oaks. But they brighten
+in her fancy, and she sighs for their return. She is a prisoner now,
+surrounded by luxury in the grim old mansion. Julia Matilda and Master
+Tom will return to the North when spring comes, and enjoy whatever there
+is to be enjoyed, though Major Longstring and Mr. Midshipman Button
+should get us safe out of the Union.
+
+Go back with us, reader, not to the dead-yard, but to the quiet walks of
+Magnolia Cemetery, hard by. A broad avenue cuts through the centre, and
+stretches away to the west, down a gently undulating slope. Rows of tall
+pines stand on either side, their branches forming an arch overhead, and
+hung with long, trailing moss, moving and whispering mysteriously in the
+gentle wind. Solemn cypress trees mark the by-paths; delicate flowers
+bloom along their borders, and jessamine vines twine lovingly about the
+branches of palmetto and magnolia trees. An air of enchanting harmony
+pervades the spot; the dead could repose in no prettier shade.
+Exquisitely chiselled marbles decorate the resting-places of the rich;
+plain slabs mark those of the poor.
+
+It is evening now. The shadows are deepening down the broad avenue, the
+wind sighs touchingly through the tall pines, and the sinking sun is
+shedding a deep purple hue over the broad landscape. A solitary
+mocking-bird has just tuned its last note, and sailed swiftly into the
+dark hedgerow, down in the dead-yard.
+
+A young girl, whose fair oval face the sun of eighteen summers has
+warmed into exquisite beauty, sits musingly under a cypress tree. Her
+name is Anna Bonnard, and she is famous in all the city for her beauty,
+as well as the symmetry of her form. Her dress is snowy white, fastened
+at the neck with a blue ribbon, and the skirts flowing. Her face is
+like chiselled marble, her eyes soft, black, and piercing, and deep,
+dark tresses of silky hair fall down her shoulders to her waist. Youth,
+beauty, and innocence are written in every feature of that fair face,
+over which a pensive smile now plays, then deepens into sadness. Here
+she has sat for several minutes, her head resting lightly on her right
+hand, and her broad sun-hat in her left, looking intently at a newly
+sodded grave with a plain white slab, on which is inscribed, in black
+letters--"Poor Miranda." This is all that betrays the sleeper beneath.
+
+"And this is where they have laid her," she says, with a sigh. "Poor
+Miranda! like me, she was lost to this world. The world only knew the
+worst of her." And the tears that steal from her eyes tell the tale of
+her affection. "Heaven will deal kindly with the outcast, for Heaven
+only knows her sorrows." She rises quickly from her seat, casts a glance
+over the avenue, then pats the sods with her hands, and strews cypress
+branches and flowers over the grave, saying, "This is the last of poor
+Miranda. Some good friend has laid her here, and we are separated
+forever. It was misfortune that made us friends." She turns slowly from
+the spot, and walks down the avenue towards the great gate leading to
+the city. A shadow crosses her path; she hesitates, and looks with an
+air of surprise as the tall figure of a man advances hastily, saying,
+"Welcome, sweet Anna--welcome home."
+
+He extends his gloved hand, which she receives with evident reluctance.
+"Pray what brought you here, Mr. Snivel?" she inquires, fixing her eyes
+on him, suspiciously.
+
+"If you would not take it impertinent, I might ask you the same
+question. No, I will not. It was your charms, sweetest Anna. Love can
+draw me--I am a worshipper at its fountain. And as for law,--you know I
+live by that."
+
+Mr. Snivel is what may be called a light comedy lawyer; ready to enter
+the service of any friend in need. He is commonly called "Snivel the
+lawyer," although the profession regard him with suspicion, and society
+keeps him on its out skirts. He is, in a word, a sportsman of small
+game, ready to bring down any sort of bird that chances within reach of
+his fowling-piece. He is tall of figure and slender, a pink of fashion
+in dress, wears large diamonds, an eye-glass, and makes the most of a
+light, promising moustache. His face is small, sharp, and discolored
+with the sun, his eyes grey and restless, his hair fair, his mouth wide
+and characterless. Cunning and low intrigue are marked in every feature
+of his face; and you look in vain for the slightest evidence of a frank
+and manly nature.
+
+"Only heard you were home an hour ago. Set right off in pursuit of you.
+Cannot say exactly what impelled me. Love, perhaps, as I said before."
+Mr. Snivel twirls his hat in the air, and condescends to say he feels in
+an exceedingly happy state of mind. "I knew you needed a protector, and
+came to offer myself as your escort. I take this occasion to say, that
+you have always seen me in the false light my enemies magnify me in."
+
+"I have no need of your escort, Mr. Snivel; and your friendship I can
+dispense with, since, up to this time, it has only increased my
+trouble," she interposes, continuing down the avenue.
+
+"We all need friends----"
+
+"True friends, you mean, Mr. Snivel."
+
+"Well, then, have it so. You hold that all is false in men. I hold no
+such thing. Come, give me your confidence, Anna. Look on the bright
+side. Forget the past, and let the present serve. When you want a
+friend, or a job of law, call on me." Mr. Snivel adjusts his eye-glass,
+and again twirls his hat.
+
+The fair girl shakes her head and says, "she hopes never to need either.
+But, tell me, Mr. Snivel, are you not the messenger of some one else?"
+she continues.
+
+"Well, I confess," he replies, with a bow, "its partly so and partly not
+so. I came to put in one word for myself and two for the judge. Its no
+breach of confidence to say he loves you to distraction. At home in any
+court, you know, and stands well with the bar----"
+
+"Love for me! He can have no love for me. I am but an outcast, tossed on
+the sea of uncertainty; all bright to-day, all darkness to-morrow. Our
+life is a stream of excitement, down which we sail quickly to a
+miserable death. I know the doom, and feel the pang. But men do not love
+us, and the world never regrets us. Go, tell him to forget me."
+
+"Forget you? not he. Sent me to say he would meet you to-night. You are
+at the house of Madame Flamingo, eh?"
+
+"I am; and sorry am I that I am. Necessity has no choice."
+
+"You have left Mulholland behind, eh? Never was a fit companion for you.
+Can say that without offence. He is a New York rough, you know.
+Charleston gentlemen have a holy dislike of such fellows."
+
+"He has been good to me. Why should I forsake him for one who affects to
+love me to-day, and will loathe me to-morrow? He has been my only true
+friend. Heaven may smile on us some day, and give us enough to live a
+life of virtue and love. As for the mystery that separates me from my
+parents, that had better remain unsolved forever." As she says this,
+they pass out of the great gate, and are on the road to the city.
+
+A darker scene is being enacted in a different part of the city. A grim
+old prison, its walls, like the state's dignity, tumbling down and going
+to decay; its roof black with vegetating moss, and in a state of
+dilapidation generally,--stands, and has stood for a century or more, on
+the western outskirts of the city. We have a strange veneration for this
+damp old prison, with its strange histories cut on its inner walls. It
+has been threatening to tumble down one of these days, and it does not
+say much for our civilization that we have let it stand. But the
+question is asked, and by grave senators, if we pull it down, what shall
+we do with our pick-pockets and poor debtors? We mix them nicely up
+here, and throw in a thief for a messmate. What right has a poor debtor
+to demand that the sovereign state of South Carolina make a distinction
+between poverty and crime? It pays fifteen cents a day for getting them
+all well starved; and there its humanity ends, as all state humanity
+should end.
+
+The inner iron gate has just closed, and two sturdy constables have
+dragged into the corridor a man, or what liquor has left of a man, and
+left him prostrate and apparently insensible on the floor. "Seventh time
+we've bring'd him 'ere a thin two months. Had to get a cart, or Phin and
+me never'd a got him 'ere," says one of the men, drawing a long breath,
+and dusting the sleeves of his coat with his hands.
+
+"An officer earns what money he gits a commitin' such a cove," says the
+other, shaking his head, and looking down resentfully at the man on the
+floor. "Life'll go out on him like a kan'l one of these days." Officer
+continues moralizing on the bad results of liquor, and deliberately
+draws a commitment from his breast pocket. "Committed by Justice
+Snivel--breaking the peace at the house of Madame----" He cannot make
+out the name.
+
+First officer interposes learnedly--"Madame Flamingo." "Sure enuf, he's
+been playin' his shines at the old woman's house again. Why, Master
+Jailer, Justice Snivel must a made fees enuf a this 'ere cove to make a
+man rich enough," continues Mr. Constable Phin.
+
+"As unwelcome a guest as comes to this establishment," rejoins the
+corpulent old jailer, adjusting his spectacles, and reading the
+commitment, a big key hanging from the middle finger of his left hand.
+"Used to be sent up here by his mother, to be starved into reform. He is
+past reform. The poor-house is the place to send him to, 'tis."
+
+"Well, take good care on him, Master Jailer, now you've got him. He
+comes of a good enough family," says the first officer.
+
+"He's bin in this condition more nor a week--layin' down yonder, in Snug
+Harbor. Liquor's drived all the sense out on him," rejoins the
+second--and bidding the jailer good-morning, they retire.
+
+The forlorn man still lies prostrate on the floor, his tattered garments
+and besotted face presenting a picture of the most abject wretchedness.
+The old jailer looks down upon him with an air of sympathy, and shakes
+his head.
+
+"The doctor that can cure you doesn't live in this establishment," he
+says. The sound of a voice singing a song is heard, and the figure of a
+powerfully framed man, dressed in a red shirt and grey homespun
+trousers, advances, folds his arms deliberately, and contemplates with
+an air of contempt the prostrate man. His broad red face, flat nose,
+massive lips, and sharp grey eyes, his crispy red hair, bristling over a
+low narrow forehead, and two deep scars on the left side of his face,
+present a picture of repulsiveness not easily described. Silently and
+sullenly he contemplates the object before him for several minutes, then
+says:
+
+"Dogs take me, Mister Jailer! but he's what I calls run to the dogs.
+That's what whisky's did for him."
+
+"And what it will do for you one of these days," interrupts the jailer,
+admonishingly. "Up for disturbing the peace at Madame Flamingo's.
+Committed by Justice Snivel."
+
+"Throwing stones by way of repentance, eh? Tom was, at one time, as good
+a customer as that house had. A man's welcome at that house when he's up
+in the world. He's sure a gittin' kicked out when he is down."
+
+"He's here, and we must get him to a cell," says the jailer, setting his
+key down and preparing to lift the man on his feet.
+
+"Look a here, Tom Swiggs,--in here again, eh?" resumes the man in the
+red shirt. "Looks as if you liked the institution. Nice son of a
+respectable mother, you is!" He stoops down and shakes the prostrate man
+violently.
+
+The man opens his eyes, and casts a wild glance on the group of wan
+faces peering eagerly at him. "I am bad enough. You are no better than
+me," he whispers. "You are always here."
+
+"Not always. I am a nine months' guest. In for cribbing voters. Let out
+when election day comes round, and paid well for my services. Sent up
+when election is over, and friends get few. No moral harm in cribbing
+voters. You wouldn't be worth cribbing, eh, Tom? There ain't no
+politician what do'nt take off his hat, and say--'Glad to see you,
+Mister Mingle,' just afore election." The man folds his arms and walks
+sullenly down the corridor, leaving the newcomer to his own reflections.
+There is a movement among the group looking on; and a man in the garb of
+a sailor advances, presses his way through, and seizing the prostrate by
+the hand, shakes it warmly and kindly. "Sorry to see you in here agin,
+Tom," he says, his bronzed face lighting up with the fires of a generous
+heart. "There's no man in this jail shall say a word agin Tom Swiggs. We
+have sailed shipmates in this old craft afore."
+
+The man was a sailor, and the prisoner's called him Spunyarn, by way of
+shortness. Indeed, he had became so familiarized to the name, that he
+would answer to none other. His friendship for the inebriate was of the
+most sincere kind. He would watch over him, and nurse him into sobriety,
+with the care and tenderness of a brother. "Tom was good to me, when he
+had it;" he says, with an air of sympathy. "And here goes for lendin' a
+hand to a shipmate in distress." He takes one arm and the jailer the
+other, and together they support the inebriate to his cell. "Set me down
+for a steady boarder, and have done with it," the forlorn man mutters,
+as they lay him gently upon the hard cot. "Down for steady board,
+jailer--that's it."
+
+"Steady, steady now," rejoins the old sailor, as the inebriate tosses
+his arms over his head. "You see, there's a heavy ground swell on just
+now, and a chap what don't mind his helm is sure to get his spars
+shivered." He addresses the the jailer, who stands looking with an air
+of commiseration on the prostrate man. "Take in head-sail--furl
+top-gallant-sails--reef topsails--haul aft main-sheet--put her helm
+hard down--bring her to the wind, and there let her lay until it comes
+clear weather." The man writhes and turns his body uneasily. "There,
+there," continues the old sailor, soothingly; "steady, steady,--keep her
+away a little, then let her luff into a sound sleep. Old Spunyarn's the
+boy what'll stand watch." A few minutes more and the man is in a deep,
+sound sleep, the old sailor keeping watch over him so kindly, so like a
+true friend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE HOUSE OF A VERY DISTINGUISHED LADY.
+
+
+The mansion of Madame Flamingo stands stately in Berresford street. An
+air of mystery hangs over it by day, and it is there young Charleston
+holds high carnival at night. It is a very distinguished house, and
+Madame Flamingo assures us she is a very distinguished lady, who means
+to make her peace with heaven before she dies, and bestow largely on the
+priests, who have promised to make her comfortable while on the road
+through purgatory. The house is in high favor with young Charleston, and
+old Charleston looks in now and then. Our city fathers have great
+sympathy for it, and protect it with their presence. Verily it is a
+great gate on the road to ruin, and thousands pass heedlessly through
+its decorated walks, quickly reaching the dark end.
+
+It is evening, and thin fleecy clouds flit along the heavens. The gas
+sheds a pale light over the streets, and shadowy figures pass and repass
+us as we turn into the narrow street leading to the house of the old
+hostess. We have reached the great arched door, and stand in the shadow
+of a gas-light, playing over its trap, its network of iron, and its
+bright, silver plate. We pause and contemplate the massive walls, as the
+thought flashes upon us--How mighty is vice, that it has got such a
+mansion dedicated to its uses! Even stranger thoughts than these flit
+through the mind as we hesitate, and touch the bell timidly. Now, we
+have excited your curiosity, and shall not turn until we have shown you
+what there is within.
+
+We hear the bell faintly tinkle--now voices in loud conversation break
+upon the ear--then all is silent. Our anxiety increases, and keeps
+increasing, until a heavy footstep is heard advancing up the hall. Now
+there is a whispering within--then a spring clicks, and a small square
+panel opens and is filled with a broad fat face, with deep blue eyes and
+a profusion of small brown curls, all framed in a frosty cap-border. It
+is the old hostess, done up in her best book muslin, and so well
+preserved.
+
+"Gentlemen, or ain't ye gentlemen?" inquires the old hostess, in a low
+voice. "This is a respectable house, I'd have you remember. Gentlemen
+what ain't gentlemen don't git no show in this house--no they don't."
+She looks curiously at us, and pauses for a reply. The display of a kid
+glove and a few assuring words gain us admittance into the great hall,
+where a scene of barbaric splendor excites curious emotions. "There
+ain't nothin' but gentlemen gets into this house--they don't! and when
+they are in they behaves like gentlemen," says the hostess, bowing
+gracefully, and closing the door after us.
+
+The time prints of sixty summers have furrowed the old hostess' brow,
+and yet she seems not more than forty--is short of figure, and weighs
+two hundred. Soft Persian carpets cover the floor, lounges, in carved
+walnut and satin, stand along the sides; marble busts on pedestals, and
+full-length figures of statesmen and warriors are interspersed at short
+intervals; and the ceiling is frescoed in uncouth and fierce-looking
+figures. Flowers hang from niches in the cornice; a marble group,
+representing St. George and the dragon, stands at the foot of a broad
+circular stairs; tall mirrors reflect and magnify each object, and over
+all the gas from three chandeliers sheds a bewitching light. Such is the
+gaudy scene that excites the fancy, but leaves our admiration unmoved.
+
+"This is a castle, and a commonwealth, gentlemen. Cost me a deal of
+money; might get ruined if gentlemen forgot how to conduct themselves.
+Ladies like me don't get much credit for the good they do. Gentlemen
+will be introduced into the parlor when they are ready," says the old
+hostess, stepping briskly round us, and watching our every movement; we
+are new-comers, and her gaudy tabernacle is novel to us.
+
+"Have educated a dozen young men to the law, and made gentlemen of a
+dozen more, excellent young men--fit for any society. Don't square my
+accounts with the world, as the world squares its account with me," she
+continues, with that air which vice affects while pleading its own
+cause. She cannot shield the war of conscience that is waging in her
+heart; but, unlike most of those engaged in her unnatural trade, there
+is nothing in her face to indicate a heart naturally inclined to evil.
+It is indeed bright with smiles, and you see only the picture of a being
+sailing calmly down the smooth sea of peace and contentment. Her dress
+is of black glossy satin, a cape of fine point lace covers her broad
+shoulders, and bright blue cap-ribbons stream down her back.
+
+"Listen," says the old hostess--"there's a full house to-night. Both
+parlors are full. All people of good society!" she continues,
+patronizingly. "Them what likes dancin' dances in the left-hand parlor.
+Them what prefers to sit and converse, converses in the right-hand
+parlor. Some converses about religion, some converses about
+politics--(by way of lettin' you know my position, I may say that I go
+for secession, out and out)--some converses about law, some converses
+about beauty. There isn't a lady in this house as can't converse on
+anything." Madame places her ear to the door, and thrusts her fat
+jewelled fingers under her embroidered apron.
+
+"This is my best parlor, gentlemen," she resumes; "only gentlemen of
+deportment are admitted--I might add, them what takes wine, and, if they
+does get a little in liquor, never loses their dignity." Madame bows,
+and the door of her best parlor swings open, discovering a scene of
+still greater splendor.
+
+"Gentlemen as can't enjoy themselves in my house, don't know how to
+enjoy anything. Them is all gentlemen you see, and them is all ladies
+you see," says the hostess, as we advance timidly into the room, the air
+of which is sickly of perfumes. The foot falls upon the softest of
+carpets; quaint shadows, from stained-glass windows are flitting and
+dancing on the frescoed ceiling; curtains of finest brocade, enveloped
+in lace, fall cloud-like down the windows. The borderings are of
+amber-colored satin, and heavy cornices, over which eagles in gilt are
+perched, surmount the whole. Pictures no artist need be ashamed of
+decorate the walls, groups in bronze and Parian, stand on pedestals
+between the windows, and there is a regal air about the furniture, which
+is of the most elaborate workmanship. But the living figures moving to
+and fro, some in uncouth dresses and some scarce dressed at all, and all
+reflected in the great mirrors, excite the deepest interest. Truly it is
+here that vice has arrayed itself in fascinating splendors, and the
+young and the old have met to pay it tribute. The reckless youth meets
+the man high in power here. The grave exchange salutations with the gay.
+Here the merchant too often meets his clerk, and the father his son.
+And before this promiscuous throng women in bright but scanty drapery,
+and wan faces, flaunt their charms.
+
+Sitting on a sofa, is the fair young girl we saw at the cemetery. By her
+side is a man of venerable presence, endeavoring to engage her in
+conversation. Her face is shadowed in a pensive smile;--she listens to
+what falls from the lips of her companion, shakes her head negatively,
+and watches the movements of a slender, fair-haired young man, who
+saunters alone on the opposite side of the room. He has a deep interest
+in the fair girl, and at every turn casts a look of hate and scorn at
+her companion, who is no less a person than Judge Sleepyhorn, of this
+history.
+
+"Hain't no better wine nowhere, than's got in this house," ejaculates
+the old hostess, calling our attention to a massive side-board, covered
+with cut-glass of various kinds. "A gentleman what's a gentleman may get
+a little tipsy, providin' he do it on wine as is kept in this house, and
+carry himself square." Madame motions patronizingly with her hand, bows
+condescendingly, and says, "Two bottles I think you ordered,
+gentlemen--what gentlemen generally call for."
+
+Having bowed assent, and glad to get off so cheaply, Manfredo, a slave
+in bright livery, is directed to bring it in.
+
+Mr. Snivel enters, to the great delight of the old hostess and various
+friends of the house. "Mr. Snivel is the spirit of this house," resumes
+the old hostess, by way of introduction; "a gentleman of distinction in
+the law." She turns to Mr. Snivel inquiringly. "You sent that ruffin,
+Tom Swiggs, up for me to-day?"
+
+"Lord bless you, yes--gave him two months for contemplation. Get well
+starved at fifteen cents a day----"
+
+"Sorry for the fellow," interrupts the old hostess, sympathizingly.
+"That's what comes a drinkin' bad liquor. Tom used to be a first-rate
+friend of this house--spent heaps of money, and we all liked him so.
+Tried hard to make a man of Tom. Couldn't do it." Madame shakes her head
+in sadness. "Devil got into him, somehow. Ran down, as young men will
+when they gets in the way. I does my part to save them, God knows." A
+tear almost steals into Madame's eyes. "When Tom used to come here,
+looking so down, I'd give him a few dollars, and get him to go somewhere
+else. Had to keep up the dignity of the house, you know. A man as takes
+his liquor as Tom does ain't fit company for my house."
+
+Mr. Snivel says: "As good advice, which I am bound to give his mother, I
+shall say she'd better give him steady lodgings in jail." He turns and
+recognizes his friend, the judge, and advances towards him. As he does
+so, Anna rises quickly to her feet, and with a look of contempt,
+addressing the judge, says, "Never, never. You deceived me once, you
+never shall again. You ask me to separate myself from him. No, never,
+never." And as she turns to walk away the judge seizes her by the hand,
+and retains her. "You must not go yet," he says.
+
+"She shall go!" exclaims the fair young man, who has been watching their
+movements. "Do you know me? I am the George Mulholland you are plotting
+to send to the whipping-post,--to accomplish your vile purposes. No,
+sir, I am not the man you took me for, as I would show you were it not
+for your grey hairs." He releases her from the judge's grasp, and stands
+menacing that high old functionary with his finger. "I care not for your
+power. Take this girl from me, and you pay the penalty with your life.
+We are equals here. Release poor Langdon from prison, and go pay
+penance over the grave of his poor wife. It's the least you can do. You
+ruined her--you can't deny it." Concluding, he clasps the girl in his
+arms, to the surprise of all present, and rushes with her out of the
+house.
+
+The house of Madame Flamingo is in a very distinguished state of
+commotion. Men sensitive of their reputations, and fearing the presence
+of the police, have mysteriously disappeared. Madame is in a fainting
+condition, and several of her heroic damsels have gone screaming out of
+the parlor, and have not been seen since.
+
+Matters have quieted down now. Mr. Snivel consoles the judge for the
+loss of dignity he has suffered, Madame did not quite faint, and there
+is peace in the house.
+
+Manfredo, his countenance sullen, brings in the wine. Manfredo is in bad
+temper to-night. He uncorks the bottles and lets the wine foam over the
+table, the sight of which sends Madame into a state of distress.
+
+"This is all I gets for putting such good livery on you!" she says,
+pushing him aside with great force. "That's thirty-nine for you in the
+morning, well-laid on. You may prepare for it. Might have known better
+(Madame modifies her voice) than buy a nigger of a clergyman!" She
+commences filling the glasses herself, again addressing Manfredo, the
+slave: "Don't do no good to indulge you. This is the way you pay me for
+lettin' you go to church of a Sunday. Can't give a nigger religion
+without his gettin' a big devil in him at the same time."
+
+Manfredo passes the wine to her guests, in sullen silence, and they
+drink to the prosperity of the house.
+
+And now it is past midnight; the music in the next parlor has ceased,
+St. Michael's clock has struck the hour of one, and business is at an
+end in the house of the old hostess. A few languid-looking guests still
+remain, the old hostess is weary with the fatigues of the night, and
+even the gas seems to burn dimmer. The judge and Mr. Snivel are the last
+to take their departure, and bid the hostess good-night. "I could not
+call the fellow out," says the judge, as they wend their way into King
+street. "I can only effect my purpose by getting him into my power. To
+do that you must give me your assistance."
+
+"Remain silent on that point," returns the other. "You have only to
+leave its management to me. Nothing is easier than to get such a fellow
+into the power of the law."
+
+On turning into King street they encounter a small, youthful looking
+man, hatless and coatless, his figure clearly defined in the shadows of
+the gas-light, engaged in a desperate combat with the lamp-post. "Now,
+Sir, defend yourself, and do it like a man, for you have the reputation
+of being a craven coward," says the man, cutting and thrusting furiously
+at the lamp-post; Snivel and Sleepyhorn pause, and look on astonished.
+"Truly the poor man's mad," says Sleepyhorn, touching his companion on
+the arm--"uncommonly mad for the season."
+
+Mr. Snivel whispers, "Not so mad. Only courageously tight." "Gentlemen!"
+says the man, reproachfully, "I am neither mad nor drunk." Here he
+strikes an attitude of defence, cutting one, two, and three with his
+small sword. "I am Mister Midshipman Button--no madman, not a bit of it.
+As brave a man as South Carolina ever sent into the world. A man of
+pluck, Sir, and genuine, at that." Again he turns and makes several
+thrusts at the lamp-post, demanding that it surrender and get down on
+its knees, in abject obedience to superior prowess.
+
+"Button, Button, my dear fellow, is it you? What strange freak is this?"
+inquires Mr. Snivel, extending his hand, which the little energetic man
+refuses to take.
+
+"Mister Midshipman Button, if you please, gentlemen," replies the man,
+with an air of offended dignity. "I'm a gentleman, a man of honor, and
+what's more, a Carolinian bred and born, or born and bred--cut it as you
+like it." He makes several powerful blows at the lamp-post, and succeeds
+only in breaking his sword.
+
+"Poor man," says the judge, kindly, "he is in need of friends to take
+care of him, and advise him properly. He has not far to travel before he
+gets into the mad-house."
+
+The man overhears his remarks, and with a vehement gesture and flourish
+of his broken sword, says, "Do you not see, gentlemen, what work I have
+made of this Northern aggressor, this huge enemy bringing oppression to
+our very doors?" He turns and addresses the lamp-post in a tone of
+superiority. "Surrender like a man, and confess yourself vanquished,
+Northern aggressor that you are! You see, gentlemen, I have gained a
+victory--let all his bowels out. Honor all belongs to my native state--I
+shall resign it all to her." Here the man begins to talk in so wild a
+strain, and to make so many demands of his imaginary enemy, that they
+called a passing guardsman, who, seeing his strange condition, replaced
+his hat, and assisted them in getting him to a place of safety for the
+night, when sleep and time would restore him to a sound state of mind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+IN WHICH THE READER IS PRESENTED WITH A VARIED PICTURE.
+
+
+Tom has passed a restless night in jail. He has dreamed of bottled
+snakes, with eyes wickedly glaring at him; of fiery-tailed serpents
+coiling all over him; of devils in shapes he has no language to
+describe; of the waltz of death, in which he danced at the mansion of
+Madame Flamingo; and of his mother, (a name ever dear in his thoughts,)
+who banished him to this region of vice, for what she esteemed a moral
+infirmity. Further on in his dream he saw a vision, a horrible vision,
+which was no less than a dispute for his person between Madame Flamingo,
+a bishop, and the devil. But Madame Flamingo and the devil, who seemed
+to enjoy each other's company exceedingly, got the better of the bishop,
+who was scrupulous of his dignity, and not a little anxious about being
+seen in such society. And from the horrors of this dream he wakes,
+surprised to find himself watched over by a kind friend--a young,
+comely-featured man, in whom he recognizes the earnest theologian, as he
+is plumed by the prisoners, whom he daily visits in his mission of good.
+There was something so frank and gentle in this young man's
+demeanor--something so manly and radiant in his countenance--something
+so disinterested and holy in his mission of love--something so opposite
+to the coldness of the great world without--something so serene and
+elevated in his youth, that even the most inveterate criminal awaited
+his coming with emotions of joy, and gave a ready ear to his kindly
+advice. Indeed, the prisoners called him their child; and he seemed not
+dainty of their approach, but took them each by the hand, sat at their
+side, addressed them as should one brother address another;--yea, he
+made them to feel that what was their interest it was his joy to
+promote.
+
+The young theologian took him a seat close by the side of the dreaming
+inebriate; and as he woke convulsively, and turned towards him his
+distorted face, viewing with wild stare each object that met his sight,
+the young man met his recognition with a smile and a warm grasp of the
+hand. "I am sorry you find me here again--yes, I am."
+
+"Better men, perhaps, have been here--"
+
+"I am ashamed of it, though; it isn't as it should be, you see,"
+interrupts Tom.
+
+"Never mind--(the young man checks himself)--I was going to say there is
+a chance for you yet; and there is a chance; and you must struggle; and
+I will help you to struggle; and your friends--"
+
+Tom interrupts by saying, "I've no friends."
+
+"I will help you to struggle, and to overcome the destroyer. Never think
+you are friendless, for then you are a certain victim in the hands of
+the ruthless enemy--"
+
+"Well, well," pauses Tom, casting a half-suspicious look at the young
+man, "I forgot. There's you, and him they call old Spunyarn, are
+friends, after all. You'll excuse me, but I didn't think of that;" and a
+feeling of satisfaction seemed to have come over him. "How grateful to
+have friends when a body's in a place of this kind," he mutters
+incoherently, as the tears gush from his distended eyes, and childlike
+he grasps the hand of the young man.
+
+"Be comforted with the knowledge that you have friends, Tom. One
+all-important thing is wanted, and you are a man again."
+
+"As to that!" interrupts Tom, doubtingly, and laying his begrimed hand
+on his burning forehead, while he alternately frets and frisks his
+fingers through his matted hair.
+
+"Have no doubts, Tom--doubts are dangerous."
+
+"Well, say what it is, and I'll try what I can do. But you won't think
+I'm so bad as I seem, and'll forgive me? I know what you think of me,
+and that's what mortifies me; you think I'm an overdone specimen of our
+chivalry--you do!"
+
+"You must banish from your mind these despairing thoughts," replies the
+young man, laying his right hand approvingly on Tom's head. "First,
+Tom," he pursues, "be to yourself a friend; second, forget the error of
+your mother, and forgive her sending you here; and third, cut the house
+of Madame Flamingo, in which our chivalry are sure to get a shattering.
+To be honest in temptation, Tom, is one of the noblest attributes of our
+nature; and to be capable of forming and maintaining a resolution to
+shake off the thraldom of vice, and to place oneself in the serener
+atmosphere of good society, is equally worthy of the highest
+commendation."
+
+Tom received this in silence, and seemed hesitating between what he
+conceived an imperative demand and the natural inclination of his
+passions.
+
+"Give me your hand, and with it your honor--I know you yet retain the
+latent spark--and promise me you will lock up the cup--"
+
+"You'll give a body a furlough, by the way of blowing off the fuddle he
+has on hand?"
+
+"I do not withhold from you any discretionary indulgence that may bring
+relief--"
+
+Tom interrupts by saying, "My mother, you know!"
+
+"I will see her, and plead with her on your behalf; and if she have a
+mother's feelings I can overcome her prejudice."
+
+Tom says, despondingly, he has no home to go to. It's no use seeing his
+mother; she's all dignity, and won't let it up an inch. "If I could only
+persuade her--" Tom pauses here and shakes his head.
+
+"Pledge me your honor you'll from this day form a resolution to reform,
+Tom; and if I do not draw from your mother a reconciliation, I will seek
+a home for you elsewhere."
+
+"Well, there can't be much harm in an effort, at all events; and here's
+my hand, in sincerity. But it won't do to shut down until I get over
+this bit of a fog I'm now in." With childlike simplicity, Tom gives his
+hand to the young man, who, as old Spunyarn enters the cell to, as he
+says, get the latitude of his friend's nerves, departs in search of Mrs.
+Swiggs.
+
+Mrs. Swiggs is the stately old member of a crispy old family, that, like
+numerous other families in the State, seem to have outlived two
+chivalrous generations, fed upon aristocracy, and are dying out
+contemplating their own greatness. Indeed, the Swiggs family, while it
+lived and enjoyed the glory of its name, was very like the Barnwell
+family of this day, who, one by one, die off with the very pardonable
+and very harmless belief that the world never can get along without the
+aid of South Carolina, it being the parthenon from which the outside
+world gets all its greatness. Her leading and very warlike newspapers,
+(the people of these United States ought to know, if they do not
+already,) it was true, were editorialized, as it was politely called in
+the little State-militant, by a species of unreputationized Jew and
+Yankee; but this you should know--if you do not already, gentle
+reader--that it is only because such employments are regarded by the
+lofty-minded chivalry as of too vulgar a nature to claim a place in
+their attention.
+
+The clock of old Saint Michaels, a clock so tenacious of its dignity as
+to go only when it pleases, and so aristocratic in its habits as not to
+go at all in rainy weather;--a clock held in great esteem by the "very
+first families," has just struck eleven. The young, pale-faced
+missionary inquiringly hesitates before a small, two-story building of
+wood, located on the upper side of Church street, and so crabbed in
+appearance that you might, without endangering your reputation, have
+sworn it had incorporated in its framework a portion of that chronic
+disease for which the State has gained for itself an unenviable
+reputation. Jutting out of the black, moss-vegetating roof, is an
+old-maidish looking window, with a dowdy white curtain spitefully tucked
+up at the side. The mischievous young negroes have pecked half the
+bricks out of the foundation, and with them made curious grottoes on the
+pavement. Disordered and unpainted clapboards spread over the dingy
+front, which is set off with two upper and two lower windows, all
+blockaded with infirm, green shutters. Then there is a snuffy door,
+high and narrow (like the State's notions), and reached by six venerable
+steps and a stoop, carefully guarded with a pine hand-rail, fashionably
+painted in blue, and looking as dainty as the State's white glove. This,
+reader, is the abode of the testy but extremely dignified Mrs. Swiggs.
+If you would know how much dignity can be crowded into the smallest
+space, you have only to look in here and be told (she closely patterns
+after the State in all things!) that fifty-five summers of her crispy
+life have been spent here, reading Milton's Paradise Lost and
+contemplating the greatness of her departed family.
+
+The old steps creak and complain as the young man ascends them, holding
+nervously on at the blue hand-rail, and reaching in due time the stoop,
+the strength of which he successively tests with his right foot, and
+stands contemplating the snuffy door. A knocker painted in villanous
+green--a lion-headed knocker, of grave deportment, looking as savage as
+lion can well do in this chivalrous atmosphere, looks admonitiously at
+him. "Well!" he sighs as he raises it, "there's no knowing what sort of
+a reception I may get." He has raised the monster's head and given three
+gentle taps. Suddenly a frisking and whispering, shutting of doors and
+tripping of feet, is heard within; and after a lapse of several minutes
+the door swings carefully open, and the dilapidated figure of an old
+negro woman, lean, shrunken, and black as Egyptian darkness--with
+serious face and hanging lip, the picture of piety and starvation,
+gruffly asks who he is and what he wants?
+
+Having requested an interview with her mistress, this decrepit specimen
+of human infirmity half closes the door against him and doddles back. A
+slight whispering, and Mrs. Swiggs is heard to say--"show him into the
+best parlor." And into the best parlor, and into the august presence of
+Mrs. Swiggs is he ushered. The best parlor is a little, dingy room, low
+of ceiling, and skirted with a sombre-colored surbase, above which is
+papering, the original color of which it would be difficult to discover.
+A listen carpet, much faded and patched, spreads over the floor, the
+walls are hung with several small engravings, much valued for their age
+and associations, but so crooked as to give one the idea of the house
+having withstood a storm at sea; and the furniture is made up of a few
+venerable mahogany chairs, a small side-table, on which stands, much
+disordered, several well-worn books and papers, two patch-covered
+foot-stools, a straight-backed rocking-chair, in which the august woman
+rocks her straighter self, and a great tin cage, from between the bars
+of which an intelligent parrot chatters--"my lady, my lady, my lady!"
+There is a cavernous air about the place, which gives out a sickly odor,
+exciting the suggestion that it might at some time have served as a
+receptacle for those second-hand coffins the State buries its poor in.
+
+"Well! who are you? And what do you want? You have brought letters, I
+s'pose?" a sharp, squeaking voice, speaks rapidly.
+
+The young man, without waiting for an invitation to sit down, takes
+nervously a seat at the side-table, saying he has come on a mission of
+love.
+
+"Love! love! eh? Young man--know that you have got into the wrong
+house!" Mrs. Swiggs shakes her head, squeaking out with great animation.
+
+There she sits, Milton's "Paradise Lost" in her witch-like fingers,
+herself lean enough for the leanest of witches, and seeming to have
+either shrunk away from the faded black silk dress in which she is clad,
+or passed through half a century of starvation merely to bolster up her
+dignity. A sharp, hatchet-face, sallow and corrugated; two wicked gray
+eyes, set deep in bony sockets; a long, irregular nose, midway of which
+is adjusted a pair of broad, brass-framed spectacles; a sunken,
+purse-drawn mouth, with two discolored teeth protruding from her upper
+lip; a high, narrow forehead, resembling somewhat crumpled parchment; a
+dash of dry, brown hair relieving the ponderous border of her
+steeple-crowned cap, which she seems to have thrown on her head in a
+hurry; a moth-eaten, red shawl thrown spitefully over her shoulders,
+disclosing a sinewy and sassafras-colored neck above, and the small end
+of a gold chain in front, and, reader, you have the august Mrs. Swiggs,
+looking as if she diets on chivalry and sour krout. She is indeed a nice
+embodiment of several of those qualities which the State clings
+tenaciously to, and calls its own, for she lives on the labor of eleven
+aged negroes, five of whom are cripples.
+
+The young man smiles, as Mrs. Swiggs increases the velocity of her
+rocking, lays her right hand on the table, rests her left on her Milton,
+and continues to reiterate that he has got into the wrong house.
+
+"I have no letter, Madam--"
+
+"I never receive people without letters--never!" again she interrupts,
+testily.
+
+"But you see, Madam--"
+
+"No I don't. I don't see anything about it!" again she interposes,
+adjusting her spectacles, and scanning him anxiously from head to foot.
+"Ah, yes (she twitches her head), I see what you are--"
+
+"I was going to say, if you please, Madam, that my mission may serve as
+a passport--"
+
+"I'm of a good family, you must know, young man. You could have learned
+that of anybody before seeking this sort of an introduction. Any of our
+first families could have told you about me. You must go your way, young
+man!" And she twitches her head, and pulls closer about her lean
+shoulders the old red shawl.
+
+"I (if you will permit me, Madam) am not ignorant of the very high
+standing of your famous family--" Madam interposes by saying, every
+muscle of her frigid face unmoved the while, she is glad he knows
+something, "having read of them in a celebrated work by one of our more
+celebrated genealogists--"
+
+"But you should have brought a letter from the Bishop! and upon that
+based your claims to a favorable reception. Then you have read of Sir
+Sunderland Swiggs, my ancestor? Ah! he was such a Baron, and owned such
+estates in the days of Elizabeth. But you should have brought a letter,
+young man." Mrs. Swiggs replies rapidly, alternately raising and
+lowering her squeaking voice, twitching her head, and grasping tighter
+her Milton.
+
+"Those are his arms and crest." She points with her Milton to a singular
+hieroglyphic, in a wiry black frame, resting on the marble-painted
+mantelpiece. "He was very distinguished in his time; and such an
+excellent Christian." She shakes her head and wipes the tears from her
+spectacles, as her face, which had before seemed carved in wormwood,
+slightly relaxes the hardness of its muscles.
+
+"I remember having seen favorable mention of Sir Sunderland's name in
+the book I refer to--"
+
+She again interposes. The young man watches her emotions with a
+penetrating eye, conscious that he has touched a chord in which all the
+milk of kindness is not dried up.
+
+"It's a true copy of the family arms. Everybody has got to having arms
+now-a-days. (She points to the indescribable scrawl over the
+mantelpiece.) It was got through Herald King, of London, who they say
+keeps her Majesty's slippers and the great seal of State. We were very
+exact, you see. Yes, sir--we were very exact. Our vulgar people, you
+see--I mean such as have got up by trade, and that sort of thing--went
+to a vast expense in sending to England a man of great learning and much
+aforethought, to ransack heraldry court and trace out their families.
+Well, he went, lived very expensively, spent several years abroad, and
+being very clever in his way, returned, bringing them all pedigrees of
+the very best kind. With only two exceptions, he traced them all down
+into noble blood. These two, the cunning fellow had it, came of martyrs.
+And to have come of the blood of martyrs, when all the others, as was
+shown, came of noble blood, so displeased--the most ingenious (the old
+lady shakes her head regrettingly) can't please everybody--the living
+members of these families, that they refused to pay the poor man for his
+researches, so he was forced to resort to a suit at law. And to this day
+(I don't say it disparagingly of them!) both families stubbornly refuse
+to accept the pedigree. They are both rich grocers, you see! and on this
+account we were very particular about ours."
+
+The young man thought it well not to interrupt the old woman's display
+of weakness, inasmuch as it might produce a favorable change in her
+feelings.
+
+"And now, young man, what mission have you besides love?" she inquires,
+adding an encouraging look through her spectacles.
+
+"I am come to intercede--"
+
+"You needn't talk of interceding with me; no you needn't! I've nothing
+to intercede about"--she twitches her head spitefully.
+
+"In behalf of your son."
+
+"There--there! I knew there was some mischief. You're a Catholic! I knew
+it. Never saw one of your black-coated flock about that there wasn't
+mischief brewing--never! I can't read my Milton in peace for you--"
+
+"But your son is in prison, Madam, among criminals, and subject to the
+influence of their habits--"
+
+"Precisely where I put him--where he won't disgrace the family; yes,
+where he ought to be, and where he shall rot, for all me. Now, go your
+way, young man; and read your Bible at home, and keep out of prisons;
+and don't be trying to make Jesuits of hardened scamps like that Tom of
+mine."
+
+"I am a Christian: I would like to extend a Christian's hand to your
+son. I may replace him on the holy pedestal he has fallen from--"
+
+"You are very aggravating, young man. Do you live in South Carolina?"
+
+The young man says he does. He is proud of the State that can boast so
+many excellent families.
+
+"I am glad of that," she says, looking querulously over her spectacles,
+as she twitches her chin, and increases the velocity of her rocking. "I
+wonder how folks can live out of it."
+
+"As to that, Madam, permit me to say, I am happy to see and appreciate
+your patriotism; but if you will grant me an order of release--"
+
+"I won't hear a word now! You're very aggravating, young man--very! He
+has disgraced the family; I have put him where he is seven times; he
+shall rot were he is! He never shall disgrace the family again. Think of
+Sir Sunderland Swiggs, and then think of him, and see what a pretty
+level the family has come to! That's the place for him, I have told him
+a dozen times how I wished him gone. The quicker he is out of the way,
+the better for the name of the family."
+
+The young man waits the end of this colloquy with a smile on his
+countenance. "I have no doubt I can work your son's reform--perhaps make
+him an honor to the family--"
+
+"He honor the family!" she interrupts, twitches the shawl about her
+shoulders, and permits herself to get into a state of general
+excitement. "I should like to see one who has disgraced the family as
+much as he has think of honoring it--"
+
+"Through kindness and forbearance, Madam, a great deal may be done," the
+young man replies.
+
+"Now, you are very provoking, young man--very. Let other people alone;
+go your way home, and study your Bible." And with this the old lady
+calls Rebecca, the decrepit slave who opened the door, and directs her
+to show the young man out. "There now!" she says testily, turning to the
+marked page of her Milton.
+
+The young man contemplates her for a few moments, but, having no
+alternative, leaves reluctantly.
+
+On reaching the stoop he encounters the tall, handsome figure of a man,
+whose face is radiant with smiles, and his features ornamented with
+neatly-combed Saxon hair and beard, and who taps the old negress under
+the chin playfully, as she says, "Missus will be right glad to see you,
+Mr. Snivel--that she will." And he bustles his way laughing into the
+presence of the old lady, as if he had news of great importance for
+her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+A FEW REFLECTIONS ON THE CURE OF VICE.
+
+
+Disappointed, and not a little chagrined, at the failure of his mission,
+the young man muses over the next best course to pursue. He has the
+inebriate's welfare at heart; he knows there is no state of degradation
+so low that the victim cannot, under proper care, be reclaimed from it;
+and he feels duty calling loudly to him not to stand trembling on the
+brink, but to enter the abode of the victim, and struggle to make clean
+the polluted. Vice, he says to himself, is not entailed in the heart;
+and if you would modify and correct the feelings inclined to evil, you
+must first feed the body, then stimulate the ambition; and when you have
+got the ambition right, seek a knowledge of the heart, and apply to it
+those mild and judicious remedies which soften its action, and give life
+to new thoughts and a higher state of existence. Once create the vine of
+moral rectitude, and its branches will soon get where they can take care
+of themselves. But to give the vine creation in poor soil, your watching
+must exhibit forbearance, and your care a delicate hand. The
+stubbornly-inclined nature, when coupled with ignorance, is that in
+which vice takes deepest root, as it is, when educated, that against
+which vice is least effectual. To think of changing the natural
+inclination of such natures with punishment, or harsh correctives, is as
+useless as would be an attempt to stop the ebbing and flowing of the
+tide. You must nurture the feelings, he thought, create a
+susceptibility, get the heart right, by holding out the value of a
+better state of things, and make the head to feel that you are sincere
+in your work of love; and, above all, you must not forget the stomach,
+for if that go empty crime will surely creep into the head. You cannot
+correct moral infirmity by confining the victim of it among criminals,
+for no greater punishment can be inflicted on the feelings of man; and
+punishment destroys rather than encourages the latent susceptibility of
+our better nature. In nine cases out of ten, improper punishment makes
+the hardened criminals with which your prisons are filled, destroying
+forever that spark of ambition which might have been fostered into a
+means to higher ends.
+
+And as the young man thus muses, there recurs to his mind the picture of
+old Absalom McArthur, a curious old man, but excessively kind, and
+always ready to do "a bit of a good turn for one in need," as he would
+say when a needy friend sought his assistance. McArthur is a dealer in
+curiosities, is a venerable curiosity himself, and has always something
+on hand to meet the wants of a community much given to antiquity and
+broken reputations.
+
+The young theologian will seek this good old man. He feels that time
+will work a favorable revolution in the feelings of Tom's mother; and to
+be prepared for that happy event he will plead a shelter for him under
+McArthur's roof.
+
+And now, generous reader, we will, with your permission, permit him to
+go on his errand of mercy, while we go back and see how Tom prospers at
+the old prison. You, we well know, have not much love of prisons. But
+unless we do now and then enter them, our conceptions of how much misery
+man can inflict upon man will be small indeed.
+
+The man of sailor-like deportment, and whom the prisoners salute with
+the sobriquet of "Old Spunyarn," entered, you will please remember, the
+cell, as the young theologian left in search of Mrs. Swiggs, "I thought
+I'd just haul my tacks aboard, run up a bit, and see what sort of
+weather you were making, Tom," says he, touching clumsily his
+small-brimmed, plait hat, as he recognizes the young man, whom he
+salutes in that style so frank and characteristic of the craft. "He's a
+bit better, sir--isn't he?" inquires Spunyarn, his broad, honest face,
+well browned and whiskered, warming with a glow of satisfaction.
+
+Receiving an answer in the affirmative, he replies he is right glad of
+it, not liking to see a shipmate in a drift. And he gives his quid a
+lurch aside, throws his hat carelessly upon the floor, shrugs his
+shoulders, and as he styles it, nimbly brings himself to a mooring, at
+Tom's side. "It's a hard comforter, this state. I don't begrudge your
+mother the satisfaction she gets of sending you here. In her eyes, ye
+see, yeer fit only to make fees out on, for them ar lawyer chaps. They'd
+keep puttin' a body in an' out here during his natural life, just for
+the sake of gettin', the fees. They don't care for such things as you
+and I. We hain't no rights; and if we had, why we hain't no power. This
+carry in' too much head sail, Tom, won't do--'twon't!" Spunyarn shakes
+his head reprovingly, fusses over Tom, turns him over on his wales, as
+he has it, and finally gets him on his beam's ends, a besotted wreck
+unable to carry his canvas. "Lost yeer reckoning eh, Tom?" he continues
+as that bewildered individual stares vacantly at him. The inebriate
+contorts painfully his face, presses and presses his hands to his
+burning forehead, and says they are firing a salute in his head, using
+his brains for ammunition.
+
+"Well, now Tom, seein' as how I'm a friend of yourn--"
+
+"Friend of mine?" interrupts Tom, shaking his head, and peering through
+his fingers mistrustfully.
+
+"And this is a hard lee shore you've beached upon; I'll lend ye a hand
+to get in the head sail, and get the craft trimmed up a little. A dash
+of the same brine will help keep the ballast right, then a skysail-yard
+breakfast must be carefully stowed away, in order to give a firmness to
+the timbers, and on the strength of these two blocks for shoring up the
+hull, you must begin little by little, and keep on brightening up until
+you have got the craft all right again. And when you have got her right
+you must keep her right. I say, Tom!--it won't do. You must reef down,
+or the devil'll seize the helm in one of these blows, and run you into a
+port too warm for pea-jackets." For a moment, Spunyarn seems half
+inclined to grasp Tom by his collarless coat and shake the hydrophobia,
+as he calls it, out of him; then, as if incited by a second thought, he
+draws from his shirt-bosom a large, wooden comb, and humming a tune
+commences combing and fussing over Tom's hair, which stands erect over
+his head like marlinspikes. At length he gets a craft-like set upon his
+foretop, and turning his head first to the right, then to the left, as a
+child does a doll, he views him with an air of exultation. "I tell you
+what it is, Tom," he continues, relieving him of the old coat, "the
+bright begins to come! There's three points of weather made already."
+
+"God bless you, Spunyarn," replies Tom, evidently touched by the
+frankness and generosity of the old sailor. Indeed there was something
+so whole-hearted about old Spunyarn, that he was held in universal
+esteem by every one in jail, with the single exception of Milman Mingle,
+the vote-cribber.
+
+"Just think of yourself, Tom--don't mind me," pursues the sailor as Tom
+squeezes firmly his hand. "You've had a hard enough time of it--" Tom
+interrupts by saying, as he lays his hands upon his sides, he is sore
+from head to foot.
+
+"Don't wonder," returns the sailor. "It's a great State, this South
+Carolina. It seems swarming with poor and powerless folks. Everybody has
+power to put everybody in jail, where the State gives a body two
+dog's-hair and rope-yarn blankets to lay upon, and grants the sheriff,
+Mr. Hardscrable, full license to starve us, and put the thirty cents a
+day it provides for our living into his breeches pockets. Say what you
+will about it, old fellow, it's a brief way of doing a little profit in
+the business of starvation. I don't say this with any ill-will to the
+State that regards its powerless and destitute with such criminal
+contempt--I don't." And he brings water, gets Tom upon his feet, forces
+him into a clean shirt, and regards him in the light of a child whose
+reformation he is determined on perfecting. He sees that in the fallen
+man which implies a hope of ultimate usefulness, notwithstanding the
+sullen silence, the gloomy frown on his knitted brow, and the general
+air of despair that pervades the external man.
+
+"There!" he exclaims, having improved the personal of the inebriate, and
+folding his arms as he steps back apace to have a better view of his
+pupil--"now, don't think of being triced up in this dreary vault. Be
+cheerful, brace up your resolution--never let the devil think you know
+he is trying to put the last seal on your fate--never!" Having slipped
+the black kerchief from his own neck, he secures it about Tom's, adjusts
+the shark's bone at the throat, and mounts the braid hat upon his head
+with a hearty blow on the crown. "Look at yourself! They'd mistake you
+for a captain of the foretop," he pursues, and good-naturedly he lays
+his broad, browned hands upon Tom's shoulders, and forces him up to a
+triangular bit of glass secured with three tacks to the wall.
+
+Tom's hands wander down his sides as he contemplates himself in the
+glass, saying: "I look a shade up, I reckon! And I feel--I have to thank
+you for it, Spunyarn--something different all over me. God bless you! I
+won't forget you. But I'm hungry; that's all that ails me now.
+
+"I may thank my mother--"
+
+"Thank yourself, Tom," interposes the sailor.
+
+"For all this. She has driven me to this; yes, she has made my soul dead
+with despair!" And he bursts into a wild, fierce laugh. A moment's
+pause, and he says, in a subdued voice, "I'm a slave, a fool, a wanderer
+in search of his own distress."
+
+The kind-hearted sailor seats his pupil upon a board bench, and proceeds
+down stairs, where, with the bribe of a glass of whiskey, he induces the
+negro cook to prepare for Tom a bowl of coffee and a biscuit. In truth,
+we must confess, that Spunyarn was so exceedingly liberal of his
+friendship that he would at times appropriate to himself the personal
+effects of his neighbors. But we must do him justice by saying that this
+was only when a friend in need claimed his attention. And this generous
+propensity he the more frequently exercised upon the effects--whiskey,
+cold ham, crackers and cheese--of the vote-cribber, whom he regards as a
+sort of cold-hearted land-lubber, whose political friends outside were
+not what they should be. If the vote-cribber's aristocratic friends (and
+South Carolina politicians were much given to dignity and bad whiskey)
+sent him luxuries that tantalized the appetites of poverty-oppressed
+debtors, and poor prisoners starving on a pound of bread a-day, Spunyarn
+held this a legitimate plea for holding in utter contempt the right to
+such gifts. And what was more singular of this man was, that he always
+knew the latitude and longitude of the vote-cribber's bottle, and what
+amount of water was necessary to keep up the gauge he had reduced in
+supplying his flask.
+
+And now that Tom's almost hopeless condition presents a warrantable
+excuse, (the vote-cribber has this moment passed into the cell to take a
+cursory glance at Tom,) Spunyarn slips nimbly into the vote-cribber's
+cell, withdraws a brick from the old chimney, and seizing the black neck
+of a blacker bottle, drags it forth, holds it in the shadow of the
+doorway, squints exultingly at the contents, shrugs his stalwart
+shoulders, and empties a third of the liquid, which he replaces with
+water from a bucket near by, into his tin-topped flask. This done, he
+ingeniously replaces the bottle, slides the flask suspiciously into his
+bosom, saying, "It'll taste just as strong to a vote-cribber," and seeks
+that greasy potentate, the prison cook. This dignitary has always laid
+something aside for Spunyarn; he knows Spunyarn has something laid aside
+for him, which makes the condition mutual.
+
+"A new loafer let loose on the world!" says the vote-cribber, entering
+the domain of the inebriate with a look of fierce scorn. "The State is
+pestered to death with such things as you. What do they send you here
+for?--disturbing the quiet and respectability of the prison! You're only
+fit to enrich the bone-yard--hardly that; perhaps only for lawyers to
+get fees of. The State'll starve you, old Hardscrabble'll make a few
+dollars out of your feed--but what of that? We don't want you here."
+There was something so sullen and mysterious in the coarse features of
+this stalwart man--something so revolting in his profession, though it
+was esteemed necessary to the elevation of men seeking political
+popularity--something so at variance with common sense in the punishment
+meted out to him who followed it, as to create a deep interest in his
+history, notwithstanding his coldness towards the inebriate. And yet you
+sought in vain for one congenial or redeeming trait in the character of
+this man.
+
+"I always find you here; you're a fixture, I take it--"
+
+The vote-cribber interrupts the inebriate--"Better have said a patriot!"
+
+"Well," returns the inebriate, "a patriot then; have it as you like it.
+I'm not over-sensitive of the distinction." The fallen man drops his
+head into his hands, stabbed with remorse, while the vote-cribber folds
+his brawny arms leisurely, paces to and fro before him, and scans him
+with his keen, gray eyes, after the manner of one mutely contemplating
+an imprisoned animal.
+
+"You need not give yourself so much concern about me--"
+
+"I was only thinking over in my head what a good subject to crib, a week
+or two before fall election, you'd be. You've a vote?"
+
+Tom good-naturedly says he has. He always throws it for the "old
+Charleston" party, being sure of a release, as are some dozen caged
+birds, just before election.
+
+"I have declared eternal hatred against that party; never pays its
+cribbers!" Mingle scornfully retorts; and having lighted his pipe,
+continues his pacing. "As for this jail," he mutters to himself, "I've
+no great respect for it; but there is a wide difference between a man
+who they put in here for sinning against himself, and one who only
+violates a law of the State, passed in opposition to popular opinion.
+However, you seem brightened up a few pegs, and, only let whiskey alone,
+you may be something yet. Keep up an acquaintance with the pump, and be
+civil to respectable prisoners, that's all."
+
+This admonition of the vote-cribber had a deeper effect on the feelings
+of the inebriate than was indicated by his outward manner. He had
+committed no crime, and yet he found himself among criminals of every
+kind; and what was worse, they affected to look down upon him. Had he
+reached a state of degradation so low that even the felon loathed his
+presence? Was he an outcast, stripped of every means of reform--of
+making himself a man? Oh no! The knife of the destroyer had plunged
+deep--disappointment had tortured his brain--he was drawn deeper into
+the pool of misery by the fatal fascinations of the house of Madame
+Flamingo, where, shunned by society, he had sought relief--but there was
+yet one spark of pride lingering in his heart. That spark the
+vote-cribber had touched; and with that spark Tom resolved to kindle for
+himself a new existence. He had pledged his honor to the young
+theologian; he would not violate it.
+
+The old sailor, with elated feelings, and bearing in his hands a bowl of
+coffee and two slices of toasted bread, is accosted by several
+suspicious-looking prisoners, who have assembled in the corridor for the
+purpose of scenting fresh air, with sundry questions concerning the
+state of his pupil's health.
+
+"He has had a rough night," the sailor answers, "but is now a bit calm.
+In truth, he only wants a bit of good steering to get him into smooth
+weather again." Thus satisfying the inquirers, he hurries up stairs as
+the vote-cribber hurries down, and setting his offering on the
+window-sill, draws from his bosom the concealed flask. "There, Tom!" he
+says, with childlike satisfaction, holding the flask before him--"only
+two pulls. To-morrow reef down to one; and the day after swear a
+dissolution of copartnership, for this chap (he points to the whiskey)
+is too mighty for you."
+
+Tom hesitates, as if questioning the quality of the drug he is about to
+administer.
+
+"Only two!" interrupts the sailor. "It will reduce the ground-swell a
+bit." The outcast places the flask to his lips, and having drank with
+contorted face passes it back with a sigh, and extends his right hand.
+"My honor is nothing to the world, Spunyarn, but it is yet something to
+me; and by it I swear (here he grasps tighter the hand of the old
+sailor, as a tear moistens his suffused cheeks) never to touch the
+poison again. It has grappled me like a fierce animal I could not shake
+off; it has made me the scoffed of felons--I will cease to be its
+victim; and having gained the victory, be hereafter a friend to myself."
+
+"God bless you--may you never want a friend, Tom--and may He give you
+strength to keep the resolution. That's my wish." And the old sailor
+shook Tom's hand fervently, in pledge of his sincerity.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+IN WHICH MR. SNIVEL, COMMONLY CALLED THE ACCOMMODATION MAN, IS
+INTRODUCED, AND WHAT TAKES PLACE BETWEEN HIM AND MRS. SWIGGS.
+
+
+Reader! have you ever witnessed how cleverly one of our mob-politicians
+can, through the all-soothing medium of a mint-julep, transpose himself
+from a mass of passion and bad English into a child of perfect
+equanimity? If not, perhaps you have witnessed in our halls of Congress
+the sudden transition through which some of our Carolina members pass
+from a state of stupidity to a state of pugnacity? (We refer only to
+those members who do their own "stumping," and as a natural consequence,
+get into Congress through abuse of the North, bad whiskey, and a
+profusion of promises to dissolve the Union.) And if you have, you may
+form some idea of the suddenness with which Lady Swiggs, as she delights
+in having her friends call her, transposes herself from the incarnation
+of a viper into a creature of gentleness, on hearing announced the name
+of Mr. Soloman Snivel.
+
+"What!--my old friend! I wish I had words to say how glad I am to see
+you, Lady Swiggs!" exclaims a tall, well-proportioned and
+handsome-limbed man, to whose figure a fashionable claret-colored frock
+coat, white vest, neatly-fitting dark-brown trowsers, highly-polished
+boots, a cluster of diamonds set in an avalanche of corded shirt-bosom,
+and carelessly-tied green cravat, lend a respectability better imagined
+than described. A certain reckless dash about him, not common to a
+refined gentleman, forces us to set him down as one of those individuals
+who hold an uncertain position in society; and though they may now and
+then mingle with men of refinement, have their more legitimate sphere in
+a fashionable world of doubtful character.
+
+"Why!--Mr. Snivel. Is it you?" responds the old woman, reciprocating his
+warm shake of the hand, and getting her hard face into a smile.
+
+"I am so glad--But (Mr. Snivel interrupts himself) never mind that!"
+
+"You have some important news?" hastily inquires Mrs. Swiggs, laying a
+bit of muslin carefully between the pages of her Milton, and returning
+it to the table, saying she has just been grievously provoked by one of
+that black-coated flock who go about the city in search of lambs. They
+always remind her of light-houses pointing the road to the dominions of
+the gentleman in black.
+
+"Something very important!" parenthesises Soloman--"very." And he shakes
+his head, touches her significantly on the arm with his orange-colored
+glove,--he smiles insidiously.
+
+"Pray be seated, Mr. Snivel. Rebecca!--bring Mr. Snivel the
+rocking-chair."
+
+"You see, my good Madam, there's such a rumor about town this morning!
+(Soloman again taps her on the arm with his glove.) The cat has got out
+of the bag--it's all up with the St. Cecilia!--"
+
+"Do, Rebecca, make haste with the rocking-chair!" eagerly interrupts
+the old woman, addressing herself to the negress, who fusses her way
+into the room with a great old-fashioned rocking-chair. "I am so
+sensitive of the character of that society," she continues with a sigh,
+and wipes and rubs her spectacles, gets up and views herself in the
+glass, frills over her cap border, and becomes very generally anxious.
+Mrs. Swiggs is herself again. She nervously adjusts the venerable red
+shawl about her shoulders, draws the newly-introduced arm-chair near her
+own, ("I'm not so old, but am getting a little deaf," she says), and
+begs her visitor will be seated.
+
+Mr. Soloman, having paced twice or thrice up and down the little room,
+contemplating himself in the glass at each turn, now touching his
+neatly-trimmed Saxon mustache and whiskers, then frisking his fingers
+through his candy-colored hair, brings his dignity into the chair.
+
+"I said it was all up with the St. Cecilia--"
+
+"Yes!" interrupts Mrs. Swiggs, her eyes glistening like balls of fire,
+her lower jaw falling with the weight of anxiety, and fretting rapidly
+her bony hands.
+
+Soloman suddenly pauses, says that was a glorious bottle of old Madeira
+with which he enjoyed her hospitality on his last visit. The flavor of
+it is yet fresh in his mouth.
+
+"Thank you--thank you! Mr. Soloman. I've a few more left. But pray lose
+no time in disclosing to me what hath befallen the St. Cecilia."
+
+"Well then--but what I say must be in confidence. (The old woman says it
+never shall get beyond her lips--never!) An Englishman of goodly looks,
+fashion, and money--and, what is more in favor with our first families,
+a Sir attached to his name, being of handsome person and accomplished
+manners, and travelling and living after the manner of a nobleman, (some
+of our first families are simple enough to identify a Baronet with
+nobility!) was foully set upon by the fairest and most marriageable
+belles of the St. Cecilia. If he had possessed a dozen hearts, he could
+have had good markets for them all. There was such a getting up of
+attentions! Our fashionable mothers did their very best in arraying the
+many accomplishments of their consignable daughters, setting forth in
+the most foreign but not over-refined phraseology, their extensive
+travels abroad--"
+
+"Yes!" interrupts Mrs. Swiggs, nervously--"I know how they do it. It's a
+pardonable weakness." And she reaches out her hand and takes to her lap
+her inseparable Milton.
+
+"And the many marked attentions--offers, in fact--they have received at
+the hands of Counts and Earls, with names so unpronounceable that they
+have outlived memory--"
+
+"Perhaps I have them in my book of autographs!" interrupts the credulous
+old woman, making an effort to rise and proceed to an antique side-board
+covered with grotesque-looking papers.
+
+Mr. Soloman urbanely touches her on the arm--begs she will keep her
+seat. The names only apply to things of the past. He proceeds,
+"Well--being a dashing fellow, as I have said--he played his game
+charmingly. Now he flirted with this one, and then with that one, and
+finally with the whole society, not excepting the very flirtable married
+ladies;--that is, I mean those whose husbands were simple enough to let
+him. Mothers were in a great flutter generally, and not a day passed but
+there was a dispute as to which of their daughters he would link his
+fortunes with and raise to that state so desirable in the eyes of our
+very republican first families--the State-Militant of nobility--"
+
+"I think none the worse of 'em for that," says the old woman, twitching
+her wizard-like head in confirmation of her assertion. "My word for it,
+Mr. Soloman, to get up in the world, and to be above the common herd, is
+the grand ambition of our people; and our State has got the grand
+position it now holds before the world through the influence of this
+ambition."
+
+"True!--you are right there, my dear friend. You may remember, I have
+always said you had the penetration of a statesman, (Mrs. Swiggs makes a
+curt bow, as a great gray cat springs into her lap and curls himself
+down on her Milton;) and, as I was going on to say of this dashing
+Baronet, he played our damsels about in agony, as an old sportsman does
+a covey of ducks, wounding more in the head than in the heart, and
+finally creating no end of a demand for matrimony. To-day, all the town
+was positive, he would marry the beautiful Miss Boggs; to-morrow it was
+not so certain that he would not marry the brilliant and
+all-accomplished Miss Noggs; and the next day he was certain of marrying
+the talented and very wealthy heiress, Miss Robbs. Mrs. Stepfast, highly
+esteemed in fashionable society, and the very best gossip-monger in the
+city, had confidentially spread it all over the neighborhood that Mr.
+Stepfast told her the young Baronet told him (and he verily believed he
+was head and ears in love with her!) Miss Robbs was the most lovely
+creature he had seen since he left Belgravia. And then he went into a
+perfect rhapsody of excitement while praising the poetry of her motion,
+the grace with which she performed the smallest offices of the
+drawing-room, her queenly figure, her round, alabaster arms, her smooth,
+tapering hands, (so chastely set off with two small diamonds, and so
+unlike the butchers' wives of this day, who bedazzle themselves all the
+day long with cheap jewelry,)--the beautiful swell of her marble bust,
+the sweet smile ever playing over her thoughtful face, the regularity of
+her Grecian features, and those great, languishing eyes, constantly
+flashing with the light of irresistible love. Quoth ye! according to
+what Mr. Stepfast told Mrs. Stepfast, the young Baronet would, with the
+ideal of a real poet, as was he, have gone on recounting her charms
+until sundown, had not Mr. Stepfast invited him to a quiet family
+dinner. And to confirm what Mr. Stepfast said, Miss Robbs had been seen
+by Mrs. Windspin looking in at Mrs. Stebbins', the fashionable
+dress-maker, while the young Baronet had twice been at Spears', in King
+Street, to select a diamond necklace of great value, which he left
+subject to the taste of Miss Robbs. And putting them two and them two
+together there was something in it!"
+
+"I am truly glad it's nothing worse. There has been so much scandal got
+up by vulgar people against our St. Cecilia."
+
+"Worse, Madam?" interpolates our hero, ere she has time to conclude her
+sentence, "the worst is to come yet."
+
+"And I'm a member of the society!" Mrs. Swiggs replies with a
+languishing sigh, mistaking the head of the cat for her Milton, and
+apologizing for her error as that venerable animal, having got well
+squeezed, sputters and springs from her grasp, shaking his head,
+"elected solely on the respectability of my family."
+
+Rather a collapsed member, by the way, Mr. Soloman thinks, contemplating
+her facetiously.
+
+"Kindly proceed--proceed," she says, twitching at her cap strings, as if
+impatient to get the sequel.
+
+"Well, as to that, being a member of the St. Cecilia myself, you see,
+and always--(I go in for a man keeping up in the world)--maintaining a
+high position among its most distinguished members, who, I assure you,
+respect me far above my real merits, (Mrs. Swiggs says we won't say
+anything about that now!) and honor me with all its secrets, I may, even
+in your presence, be permitted to say, that I never heard a member who
+didn't speak in high praise of you and the family of which you are so
+excellent a representative."
+
+"Thank you--thank you. O thank you, Mr. Soloman!" she rejoins.
+
+"Why, Madam, I feel all my veneration getting into my head at once when
+I refer to the name of Sir Sunderland Swiggs."
+
+"But pray what came of the young Baronet?"
+
+"Oh!--as to him, why, you see, he was what we call--it isn't a polite
+word, I confess--a humbug."
+
+"A Baronet a humbug!" she exclaims, fretting her hands and commencing to
+rock herself in the chair.
+
+"Well, as to that, as I was going on to say, after he had beat the bush
+all around among the young birds, leaving several of them wounded on the
+ground--you understand this sort of thing--he took to the older ones,
+and set them polishing up their feathers. And having set several very
+respectable families by the ears, and created a terrible flutter among a
+number of married dames--he was an adept in this sort of diplomacy, you
+see--it was discovered that one very distinguished Mrs. Constance,
+leader of fashion to the St. Cecilia, (and on that account on no very
+good terms with the vulgar world, that was forever getting up scandal to
+hurl at the society that would not permit it to soil, with its common
+muslin, the fragrant atmosphere of its satin and tulle), had been
+carrying on a villanous intrigue--yes, Madam! villanous intrigue! I said
+discovered: the fact was, this gallant Baronet, with one servant and no
+establishment, was feted and fooled for a month, until he came to the
+very natural and sensible conclusion, that we were all snobbs--yes,
+snobbs of the very worst kind. But there was no one who fawned over and
+flattered the vanity of this vain man more than the husband of Mrs.
+Constance. This poor man idolized his wife, whom he regarded as the very
+diamond light of purity, nor ever mistrusted that the Baronet's
+attentions were bestowed with any other than the best of motives.
+Indeed, he held it extremely condescending on the part of the Baronet to
+thus honor the family with his presence.
+
+"And the Baronet, you see, with that folly so characteristic of
+Baronets, was so flushed with his success in this little intrigue with
+Madame Constance--the affair was too good for him to keep!--that he went
+all over town showing her letters. Such nice letters as they were--brim
+full of repentance, love, and appointments. The Baronet read them to Mr.
+Barrows, laughing mischievously, and saying what a fool the woman must
+be. Mr. Barrows couldn't keep it from Mrs. Barrows, Mrs. Barrows let the
+cat out of the bag to Mrs. Simpson, and Mrs. Simpson would let Mr.
+Simpson have no peace till he got on the soft side of the Baronet, and,
+what was not a difficult matter, got two of the letters for her to have
+a peep into. Mrs. Simpson having feasted her eyes on the two Mr. Simpson
+got of the Baronet, and being exceedingly fond of such wares as they
+contained, must needs--albeit, in strict confidence--whisper it to Mrs.
+Fountain, who was a very fashionable lady, but unfortunately had a head
+very like a fountain, with the exception that it ejected out double the
+amount it took in. Mrs. Fountain--as anybody might have known--let it
+get all over town. And then the vulgar herd took it up, as if it were
+assafoetida, only needing a little stirring up, and hurled it back at
+the St. Cecilia, the character of which it would damage without a pang
+of remorse.
+
+"Then the thing got to Constance's ears; and getting into a terrible
+passion, poor Constance swore nothing would satisfy him but the
+Baronet's life. But the Baronet--"
+
+"A sorry Baronet was he--not a bit like my dear ancestor, Sir
+Sunderland," Mrs. Swiggs interposes.
+
+"Not a bit, Madam," bows our hero. "Like a sensible gentleman, as I was
+about to say, finding it getting too hot for him, packed up his alls,
+and in the company of his unpaid servant, left for parts westward of
+this. I had a suspicion the fellow was not what he should be; and I made
+it known to my select friends of the St. Cecilia, who generally
+pooh-poohed me. A nobleman, they said, should receive every attention.
+And to show that he wasn't what he should be, when he got to Augusta his
+servant sued him for his wages; and having nothing but his chivalry,
+which the servant very sensibly declined to accept for payment, he came
+out like a man, and declared himself nothing but a poor player.
+
+"But this neither satisfied Constance nor stayed the drifting current of
+slander--"
+
+"Oh! I am so glad it was no worse," Mrs. Swiggs interrupts again.
+
+"True!" Mr. Soloman responds, laughing heartily, as he taps her on the
+arm. "It might have been worse, though. Well, I am, as you know, always
+ready to do a bit of a good turn for a friend in need, and pitying poor
+Constance as I did, I suggested a committee of four most respectable
+gentlemen, and myself, to investigate the matter. The thing struck
+Constance favorably, you see. So we got ourselves together, agreed to
+consider ourselves a Congress, talked over the affairs of the nation,
+carried a vote to dissolve the Union, drank sundry bottles of Champagne,
+(I longed for a taste of your old Madeira, Mrs. Swiggs,) and brought in
+a verdict that pleased Mrs. Constance wonderfully--and so it ought. We
+were, after the most careful examination, satisfied that the reports
+prejudicial to the character and standing of Mrs. Constance had no
+foundation in truth, being the base fabrications of evil-minded persons,
+who sought, while injuring an innocent lady, to damage the reputation of
+the St. Cecilia Society. Mr. Constance was highly pleased with the
+finding; and finally it proved the sovereign balm that healed all their
+wounds. Of course, the Knight, having departed, was spared his blood."
+
+Here Mr. Soloman makes a pause. Mrs. Swiggs, with a sigh, says, "Is that
+all?"
+
+"Quite enough for once, my good Madam," Mr. Soloman bows in return.
+
+"Oh! I am so glad the St. Cecilia is yet spared to us. You said, you
+know, it was all up with it--"
+
+"Up? up?--so it is! That is, it won't break it up, you know. Why--oh, I
+see where the mistake is--it isn't all over, you know, seeing how the
+society can live through a score of nine-months scandals. But the
+thing's in every vulgar fellow's lips--that is the worst of it."
+
+Mrs. Swiggs relishes this bit of gossip as if it were a dainty morsel;
+and calling Rebecca, she commands her to forthwith proceed into the
+cellar and bring a bottle of the old Madeira--she has only five
+left--for Mr. Soloman. And to Mr. Soloman's great delight, the old
+negress hastily obeys the summons; brings forth a mass of cobweb and
+dust, from which a venerable black bottle is disinterred, uncorked, and
+presented to the guest, who drinks the health of Mrs. Swiggs in sundry
+well-filled glasses, which he declares choice, adding, that it always
+reminds him of the age and dignity of the family. Like the State,
+dignity is Mrs. Swiggs' weakness--her besetting sin. Mr. Soloman, having
+found the key to this vain woman's generosity, turns it when it suits
+his own convenience.
+
+"By-the-bye," he suddenly exclaims, "you've got Tom locked up again."
+
+"As safe as he ever was, I warrant ye!" Mrs. Swiggs replies, resuming
+her Milton and rocking-chair.
+
+"Upon my faith I agree with you. Never let him get out, for he is sure
+to disgrace the family when he does--"
+
+"I've said he shall rot there, and he shall rot! He never shall get out
+to disgrace the family--no, not if I live to be as gray as Methuselah, I
+warrant you!" And Mr. Soloman, having made his compliments to the sixth
+glass, draws from his breast pocket a legal-looking paper, which he
+passes to Mrs. Swiggs, as she ejaculates, "Oh! I am glad you thought of
+that."
+
+Mr. Soloman, watching intently the changes of her face, says, "You will
+observe, Madam, I have mentioned the cripples. There are five of them.
+We are good friends, you see; and it is always better to be precise in
+those things. It preserves friendship. This is merely a bit of a good
+turn I do for you." Mr. Soloman bows, makes an approving motion with his
+hands, and lays at her disposal on the table, a small roll of bills.
+"You will find two hundred dollars there," he adds, modulating his
+voice. "You will find it all right; I got it for you of Keepum. We do a
+little in that way; he is very exact, you see--"
+
+"Honor is the best security between people of our standing," she
+rejoins, taking up a pen and signing the instrument, which her guest
+deposits snugly in his pocket, and takes his departure for the house of
+Madame Flamingo.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+CONTAINING SUNDRY MATTERS APPERTAINING TO THIS HISTORY.
+
+
+If, generous reader, you had lived in Charleston, we would take it for
+granted that you need no further enlightening on any of our very select
+societies, especially the St. Cecilia; but you may not have enjoyed a
+residence so distinguished, rendering unnecessary a few explanatory
+remarks. You must know that we not only esteem ourselves the
+quintessence of refinement, as we have an undisputed right to do, but
+regard the world outside as exceedingly stupid in not knowing as much of
+us as we profess to know of ourselves. Abroad, we wonder we are not at
+once recognized as Carolinians; at home, we let the vulgar world know
+who we are. Indeed, we regard the outside world--of these States we
+mean--very much in that light which the Greeks of old were wont to view
+the Romans in. Did we but stop here, the weakness might be pardonable.
+But we lay claim to Grecian refinement of manners, while pluming all our
+mob-politicians Roman orators. There is a profanity about this we
+confess not to like; not that danger can befall it, but because it hath
+about it that which reminds us of the oyster found in the shell of gold.
+Condescending, then, to believe there exists outside of our State a few
+persons silly enough to read books, we will take it for granted, reader,
+that you are one of them, straightway proceeding with you to the St.
+Cecilia.
+
+You have been a fashionable traveller in Europe? You say--yes! rummaged
+all the feudal castles of England, sought out the resting places of her
+kings, heard some one say "that is poet's corner," as we passed into
+Westminster Abbey, thought they couldn't be much to have such a
+corner,--"went to look" where Byron was buried, moistened the marble
+with a tear ere we were conscious of it, and saw open to us the gulf of
+death as we contemplated how greedy graveyard worms were banqueting on
+his greatness. A world of strange fancies came over us as we mused on
+England's poets. And we dined with several Dukes and a great many more
+Earls, declining no end of invitations of commoners. Very well! we
+reply, adding a sigh. And on your return to your home, that you may not
+be behind the fashion, you compare disparagingly everything that meets
+your eye. Nothing comes up to what you saw in Europe. A servant doesn't
+know how to be a servant here; and were we to see the opera at Covent
+Garden, we would be sure to stare our eyes out. It is become habitual to
+introduce your conversation with, "when I was in Europe." And you know
+you never write a letter that you don't in some way bring in the
+distinguished persons you met abroad. There is something (no matter what
+it is) that forcibly reminds you of what occurred at the table of my
+Lady Clarendon, with whom you twice had the pleasure and rare honor of
+dining. And by implication, you always give us a sort of lavender-water
+description of the very excellent persons you met there, and what they
+were kind enough to say of America, and how they complimented you, and
+made you the centre and all-absorbing object of attraction--in a word, a
+truly wonderful person. And you will not fail, now that it is become
+fashionable, to extol with fulsome breath the greatness of every
+European despot it hath been your good fortune to get a bow from. And
+you are just vain enough to forever keep this before your up-country
+cousins. You say, too, that you have looked in at Almacks. Almacks!
+alas! departed greatness. With the rise of the Casino hath it lain its
+aristocratic head in the dust.
+
+Well!--the St. Cecilia you must know (its counterparts are to be found
+in all our great cities) is a miniature Almacks--a sort of leach-cloth,
+through which certain very respectable individuals must pass ere they
+can become the elite of our fashionable world. To become a member of the
+St. Cecilia--to enjoy its recherché assemblies--to luxuriate in the
+delicate perfumes of its votaries, is the besetting sin of a great many
+otherwise very sensible people. And to avenge their disappointment at
+not being admitted to its precious precincts, they are sure to be found
+in the front rank of scandal-mongers when anything in their line is up
+with a member. And it is seldom something is not up, for the society
+would seem to live and get lusty in an atmosphere of perpetual scandal.
+Any amount of duels have come of it; it hath made rich no end of
+milliners; it hath made bankrupt husbands by the dozen; it hath been the
+theatre of several distinguished romances; it hath witnessed the first
+throbbings of sundry hearts, since made happy in wedlock; it hath been
+the _shibolath_ of sins that shall be nameless here. The reigning belles
+are all members (provided they belong to our first families) of the St.
+Cecilia, as is also the prettiest and most popular unmarried parson. And
+the parson being excellent material for scandal, Mother Rumor is sure to
+have a dash at him. Nor does this very busy old lady seem over-delicate
+about which of the belles she associates with the parson, so long as the
+scandal be fashionable enough to afford her a good traffic.
+
+There is continually coming along some unknown but very distinguished
+foreigner, whom the society adopts as its own, flutters over, and
+smothers with attentions, and drops only when it is discovered he is an
+escaped convict. This, in deference to the reputation of the St.
+Cecilia, we acknowledge has only happened twice. It has been said with
+much truth that the St. Cecilia's worst sin, like the sins of its sister
+societies of New York, is a passion for smothering with the satin and
+Honiton of its assemblies a certain supercilious species of snobby
+Englishmen, who come over here, as they have it (gun and fishing-rod in
+hand), merely to get right into the woods where they can have plenty of
+bear-hunting, confidently believing New York a forest inhabited by such
+animals. As for our squaws, as Mr. Tom Toddleworth would say, (we shall
+speak more at length of Tom!) why! they have no very bad opinion of
+them, seeing that they belong to a race of semi-barbarians, whose
+sayings they delight to note down. Having no society at home, this
+species of gentry the more readily find themselves in high favor with
+ours. They are always Oxonians, as the sons of green grocers and
+fishmongers are sure to be when they come over here (so Mr. Toddleworth
+has it, and he is good authority), and we being an exceedingly
+impressible people, they kindly condescend to instruct us in all the
+high arts, now and then correcting our very bad English. They are clever
+fellows generally, being sure to get on the kind side of credulous
+mothers with very impressible-headed daughters.
+
+There was, however, always a distinguished member of the St. Cecilia
+society who let out all that took place at its assemblies. The vulgar
+always knew what General danced with the lovely Miss A., and how they
+looked, and what they said to each other; how many jewels Miss A. wore,
+and the material her dress was made of; they knew who polkaed with the
+accomplished Miss B., and how like a duchess she bore herself; they had
+the exact name of the colonel who dashed along so like a knight with the
+graceful and much-admired Mrs. D., whose husband was abroad serving his
+country; what gallant captain of dragoons (captains of infantry were
+looked upon as not what they might be) promenaded so imperiously with
+the vivacious Miss E.; and what distinguished foreigner sat all night in
+the corner holding a suspicious and very improper conversation with Miss
+F., whose skirts never were free of scandal, and who had twice got the
+pretty parson into difficulty with his church. Hence there was a
+perpetual outgoing of scandal on the one side, and pelting of dirt on
+the other.
+
+When Mr. Soloman sought the presence of Mrs. Swiggs and told her it was
+all up with the St. Cecilia, and when that august member of the society
+was so happily disappointed by his concluding with leaving it an
+undamaged reputation, the whole story was not let out. In truth the
+society was at that moment in a state of indignation, and its reputation
+as well-nigh the last stage of disgrace as it were possible to bring it
+without being entirely absorbed. The Baronet, who enjoyed a good joke,
+and was not over-scrupulous in measuring the latitude of our credulity,
+had, it seems, in addition to the little affair with Mrs. Constance,
+been imprudent enough to introduce at one of the assemblies of the St.
+Cecilia, a lady of exceedingly fair but frail import: this loveliest of
+creatures--this angel of fallen fame--this jewel, so much sought after
+in her own casket--this child of gentleness and beauty, before whom a
+dozen gallant knights were paying homage, and claiming her hand for the
+next waltz, turned out to be none other than the Anna Bonard we have
+described at the house of Madame Flamingo. The discovery sent the whole
+assembly into a fainting fit, and caused such a fluttering in the camp
+of fashion. Reader! you may rest assured back-doors and smelling-bottles
+were in great demand.
+
+The Baronet had introduced her as his cousin; just arrived, he said, in
+the care of her father--the cousin whose beauty he had so often referred
+to. So complete was her toilet and disguise, that none but the most
+intimate associate could have detected the fraud. Do you ask us who was
+the betrayer, reader? We answer,--
+
+One whose highest ambition did seem that of getting her from her
+paramour, George Mullholland. It was Judge Sleepyhorn. Reader! you will
+remember him--the venerable, snowy-haired man, sitting on the lounge at
+the house of Madame Flamingo, and on whom George Mullholland swore to
+have revenge. The judge of a criminal court, the admonisher of the
+erring, the sentencer of felons, the _habitue_ of the house of Madame
+Flamingo--no libertine in disguise could be more scrupulous of his
+standing in society, or so sensitive of the opinion held of him by the
+virtuous fair, than was this daylight guardian of public morals.
+
+The Baronet got himself nicely out of the affair, and Mr. Soloman
+Snivel, commonly called Mr. Soloman, the accommodation man, is at the
+house of Madame Flamingo, endeavoring to effect a reconciliation between
+the Judge and George Mullholland.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+IN WHICH IS SEEN A COMMINGLING OF CITIZENS.
+
+
+Night has thrown her mantle over the city. There is a great gathering of
+denizens at the house of Madame Flamingo. She has a _bal-masque_
+to-night. Her door is beset with richly-caparisoned equipages. The town
+is on tip-toe to be there; we reluctantly follow it. An hundred
+gaudily-decorated drinking saloon are filled with gaudier-dressed men.
+In loudest accent rings the question--"Do you go to Madame Flamingo's
+to-night?" Gentlemen of the genteel world, in shining broadcloth, touch
+glasses and answer--"yes!" It is a wonderful city--this of ours. Vice
+knows no restraint, poverty hath no friends here. We bow before the
+shrine of midnight revelry; we bring licentiousness to our homes, but we
+turn a deaf ear to the cries of poverty, and we gloat over the sale of
+men.
+
+The sickly gas-light throws a sicklier glare over the narrow, unpaved
+streets. The city is on a frolic, a thing not uncommon with it. Lithe
+and portly-figured men, bearing dominos in their hands, saunter along
+the sidewalk, now dangling ponderous watch-chains, then flaunting
+highly-perfumed cambrics--all puffing the fumes of choice cigars. If
+accosted by a grave wayfarer--they are going to the opera! They are
+dressed in the style of opera-goers. And the road to the opera seems the
+same as that leading to the house of the old hostess. A gaily-equipped
+carriage approaches. We hear the loud, coarse laughing of those it so
+buoyantly bears, then there comes full to view the glare of yellow silks
+and red satins, and doubtful jewels--worn by denizens from whose faded
+brows the laurel wreath hath fallen. How shrunken with the sorrow of
+their wretched lives, and yet how sportive they seem! The pale gas-light
+throws a spectre-like hue over their paler features; the artificial
+crimson with which they would adorn the withered cheek refuses to lend a
+charm to features wan and ghastly. The very air is sickly with the odor
+of their cosmetics. And with flaunting cambrics they bend over carriage
+sides, salute each and every pedestrian, and receive in return answers
+unsuited to refined ears. They pass into the dim vista, but we see with
+the aid of that flickering gas, the shadow of that polluting hand which
+hastens life into death.
+
+Old Mr. McArthur, who sits smoking his long pipe in the door of his
+crazy-looking curiosity shop, (he has just parted company with the young
+theologian, having assured him he would find a place to stow Tom Swiggs
+in,) wonders where the fashionable world of Charleston can be going? It
+is going to the house of the Flamingo. The St. Cecilia were to have had
+a ball to-night; scandal and the greater attractions here have closed
+its doors.
+
+A long line of carriages files past the door of the old hostess. An
+incessant tripping of feet, delicately encased in bright-colored
+slippers; an ominous fluttering of gaudy silks and satins; an inciting
+glare of borrowed jewelry, mingling with second-hand lace; an
+heterogeneous gleaming of bare, brawny arms, and distended busts, all
+lend a sort of barbaric splendor to that mysterious group floating, as
+it were, into a hall in one blaze of light. A soft carpet, overlain
+with brown linen, is spread from the curbstone into the hall. Two
+well-developed policemen guard the entrance, take tickets of those who
+pass in, and then exchange smiles of recognition with venerable looking
+gentlemen in masks. The hostess, a clever "business man" in her way, has
+made the admission fee one dollar. Having paid the authorities ten
+dollars, and honored every Alderman with a complimentary ticket, who has
+a better right? No one has a nicer regard for the Board of Aldermen than
+Madame Flamingo; no one can reciprocate this regard more condescendingly
+than the honorable Board of Aldermen do. Having got herself arrayed in a
+dress of sky-blue satin, that ever and anon streams, cloud-like, behind
+her, and a lace cap of approved fashion, with pink strings nicely
+bordered in gimp, and a rich Honiton cape, jauntily thrown over her
+shoulders, and secured under the chin with a great cluster of blazing
+diamonds, and rows of unpolished pearls at her wrists, which are
+immersed in crimped ruffles, she doddles up and down the hall in a state
+of general excitement. A corpulent colored man, dressed in the garb of a
+beadle,--a large staff in his right hand, a cocked hat on his head, and
+broad white stripes down his flowing coat, stands midway between the
+parlor doors. He is fussy enough, and stupid enough, for a Paddington
+beadle. Now Madame Flamingo looks scornfully at him, scolds him, pushes
+him aside; he is only a slave she purchased for the purpose; she
+commands that he gracefully touch his hat (she snatches it from his
+head, and having elevated it over her own, performs the delicate motion
+she would have him imitate) to every visitor. The least neglect of duty
+will incur (she tells him in language he cannot mistake) the penalty of
+thirty-nine well laid on in the morning. In another minute her fat,
+chubby-face glows with smiles, her whole soul seems lighted up with
+childlike enthusiasm; she has a warm welcome for each new comer, retorts
+saliently upon her old friends, and says--"you know how welcome you all
+are!" Then she curtsies with such becoming grace. "The house, you know,
+gentlemen, is a commonwealth to-night." Ah! she recognizes the tall,
+comely figure of Mr. Soloman, the accommodation man. He did not spring
+from among the bevy of coat-takers, and hood-retainers, at the extreme
+end of the great hall, nor from among the heap of promiscuous garments
+piled in one corner; and yet he is here, looking as if some magic
+process had brought him from a mysterious labyrinth. "Couldn't get along
+without me, you see. It's an ambition with me to befriend everybody. If
+I can do a bit of a good turn for a friend, so much the better!" And he
+grasps the old hostess by the hand with a self-satisfaction he rather
+improves by tapping her encouragingly on the shoulder. "You'll make a
+right good thing of this!--a clear thousand, eh?"
+
+"The fates have so ordained it," smiles naively the old woman.
+
+"Of course the fates could not ordain otherwise--"
+
+"As to that, Mr. Soloman, I sometimes think the gods are with me, and
+then again I think they are against me. The witches--they have done my
+fortune a dozen times or more--always predict evil (I consult them
+whenever a sad fit comes over me), but witches are not to be depended
+upon! I am sure I think what a fool I am for consulting them at all."
+She espies, for her trade of sin hath made keen her eye, the venerable
+figure of Judge Sleepyhorn advancing up the hall, masked. "Couldn't get
+along without you," she lisps, tripping towards him, and greeting him
+with the familiarity of an intimate friend. "I'm rather aristocratic,
+you'll say!--and I confess I am, though a democrat in principle!" And
+Madame Flamingo confirms what she says with two very dignified nods. As
+the Judge passes silently in she pats him encouragingly on the back,
+saying,--"There ain't no one in this house what'll hurt a hair on your
+head." The Judge heeds not what she says.
+
+"My honor for it, Madame, but I think your guests highly favored,
+altogether! Fine weather, and the prospect of a _bal-masque_ of Pompeian
+splendor. The old Judge, eh?"
+
+"The gods smile--the gods smile, Mr. Soloman!" interrupts the hostess,
+bowing and swaying her head in rapid succession.
+
+"The gods have their eye on him to-night--he's a marked man! A jolly old
+cove of a Judge, he is! Cares no more about rules and precedents, on the
+bench, than he does for the rights and precedents some persons profess
+to have in this house. A high old blade to administer justice, eh?"
+
+"But, you see, Mr. Soloman," the hostess interrupts, a gracious bow
+keeping time with the motion of her hand, "he is such an aristocratic
+prop in the character of my house."
+
+"I rather like that, I confess, Madame. You have grown rich off the
+aristocracy. Now, don't get into a state of excitement!" says Mr.
+Soloman, fingering his long Saxon beard, and eyeing her mischievously.
+She sees a bevy of richly-dressed persons advancing up the hall in high
+glee. Indeed her house is rapidly filling to the fourth story. And yet
+they come! she says. "The gods are in for a time. I love to make the
+gods happy."
+
+Mr. Soloman has lain his hand upon her arm retentively.
+
+"It is not that the aristocracy and such good persons as the Judge spend
+so much here. But they give _eclat_ to the house, and _eclat_ is money.
+That's it, sir! Gold is the deity of _our_ pantheon! Bless you (the
+hostess evinces the enthusiasm of a politician), what better evidence of
+the reputation of my house than is before you, do you want? I've shut up
+the great Italian opera, with its three squalling prima donnas, which in
+turn has shut up the poor, silly _Empresario_ as they call him; and the
+St. Cecilia I have just used up. I'm a team in my way, you see;--run all
+these fashionable oppositions right into bankruptcy." Never were words
+spoken with more truth. Want of patronage found all places of rational
+amusement closed. Societies for intellectual improvement, one after
+another, died of poverty. Fashionable lectures had attendance only when
+fashionable lecturers came from the North; and the Northman was sure to
+regard our taste through the standard of what he saw before him.
+
+The house of the hostess triumphs, and is corpulent of wealth and
+splendor. To-morrow she will feed with the rich crumbs that fall from
+her table the starving poor. And although she holds poor virtue in utter
+contempt, feeding the poor she regards a large score on the passport to
+a better world. A great marble stairway winds its way upward at the
+farther end of the hall, and near it are two small balconies, one on
+each side, presenting barricades of millinery surmounted with the
+picturesque faces of some two dozen denizens, who keep up an incessant
+gabbling, interspersed here and there with jeers directed at Mr.
+Soloman. "Who is he seeking to accommodate to-night?" they inquire,
+laughing merrily.
+
+The house is full, the hostess has not space for one friend more; she
+commands the policemen to close doors. An Alderman is the only exception
+to her _fiat_. "You see," she says, addressing herself to a courtly
+individual who has just saluted her with urbane deportment, "I must
+preserve the _otium cum dignitate_ of my (did I get it right?) standing
+in society. I don't always get these Latin sayings right. Our
+Congressmen don't. And, you see, like them, I ain't a Latin scholar, and
+may be excused for any little slips. Politics and larnin' don't get
+along well together. Speaking of politics, I confess I rather belong to
+the Commander and Quabblebum school--I do!"
+
+At this moment (a tuning of instruments is heard in the dancing-hall)
+the tall figure of the accommodation man is seen, in company of the
+venerable Judge, passing hurriedly into a room on the right of the
+winding stairs before described. "Judge!" he exclaims, closing the door
+quickly after him, "you will be discovered and exposed. I am not
+surprised at your passion for her, nor the means by which you seek to
+destroy the relations existing between her and George Mullholland. It is
+an evidence of taste in you. But she is proud to a fault, and, this I
+say in friendship, you so wounded her feelings, when you betrayed her to
+the St. Cecilia, that she has sworn to have revenge on you. George
+Mullholland, too, has sworn to have your life.
+
+"I tell you what it is, Judge, (the accommodation man assumes the air of
+a bank director,) I have just conceived--you will admit I have an
+inventive mind!--a plot that will carry you clean through the whole
+affair. Your ambition is divided between a passion for this charming
+creature and the good opinion of better society. The resolution to
+retain the good opinion of society is doing noble battle in your heart;
+but it is the weaker vessel, and it always will be so with a man of your
+mould, inasmuch as such resolutions are backed up by the less fierce
+elements of our nature. Put this down as an established principle. Well,
+then, I will take upon myself the betrayal. I will plead you ignorant of
+the charge, procure her forgiveness, and reconcile the matter with this
+Mullholland. It's worth an hundred or more, eh?"
+
+The venerable man smiles, shakes his head as if heedless of the
+admonition, and again covers his face with his domino.
+
+The accommodation man, calling him by his judicial title, says he will
+yet repent the refusal!
+
+It is ten o'clock. The gentleman slightly colored, who represents a
+fussy beadle, makes a flourish with his great staff. The doors of the
+dancing hall are thrown open. Like the rushing of the gulf stream there
+floods in a motley procession of painted females and masked men--the
+former in dresses as varied in hue as the fires of remorse burning out
+their unuttered thoughts. Two and two they jeer and crowd their way
+along into the spacious hall, the walls of which are frescoed in
+extravagant mythological designs, the roof painted in fret work, and the
+cornices interspersed with seraphs in stucco and gilt. The lights of two
+massive chandeliers throw a bewitching refulgence over a scene at once
+picturesque and mysterious; and from four tall mirrors secured between
+the windows, is reflected the forms and movements of the masquers.
+
+Reader! you have nothing in this democratic country with which to
+successfully compare it. And to seek a comparison in the old world,
+where vice, as in this city of chivalry, hath a license, serves not our
+office.
+
+Madame Flamingo, flanked right and left by twelve colored gentlemen,
+who, their collars decorated with white and pink rosettes, officiate as
+masters of ceremony, and form a crescent in front of the thronging
+procession, steps gradually backward, curtsying and bowing, and
+spreading her hands to her guests, after the manner of my Lord
+Chamberlain.
+
+Eight colored musicians, (everything is colored here,) perched on a
+raised platform covered with maroon-colored plush, at the signal of a
+lusty-tongued call-master, strike up a march, to which the motley throng
+attempt to keep time. It is martial enough; and discordant enough for
+anything but keeping time to.
+
+The plush-covered benches filing along the sides and ends of the hall
+are eagerly sought after and occupied by a strange mixture of lookers on
+in Vienna. Here the hoary-headed father sits beside a newly-initiated
+youth who is receiving his first lesson of dissipation. There the grave
+and chivalric planter sports with the nice young man, who is cultivating
+a beard and his way into the by-ways. A little further on the suspicious
+looking gambler sits freely conversing with the man whom a degrading
+public opinion has raised to the dignity of the judicial bench. Yonder
+is seen the man who has eaten his way into fashionable society, (and by
+fashionable society very much caressed in return,) the bosom companion
+of the man whose crimes have made him an outcast.
+
+Generous reader! contemplate this grotesque assembly; study the object
+Madame Flamingo has in gathering it to her fold. Does it not present the
+accessories to wrong doing? Does it not show that the wrong-doer and the
+criminally inclined, too often receive encouragement by the example of
+those whoso duty it is to protect society? The spread of crime, alas!
+for the profession, is too often regarded by the lawyer as rather a
+desirable means of increasing his trade.
+
+Quadrille follows quadrille, the waltz succeeds the schottish, the scene
+presents one bewildering maze of flaunting gossamers and girating
+bodies, now floating sylph-like into the foreground, then whirling
+seductively into the shadowy vista, where the joyous laugh dies out in
+the din of voices. The excitement has seized upon the head and heart of
+the young,--the child who stood trembling between the first and second
+downward step finds her reeling brain a captive in this snare set to
+seal her ruin.
+
+Now the music ceases, the lusty-tongued call-master stands surveying
+what he is pleased to call the oriental splendor of this grotesque
+assembly. He doesn't know who wouldn't patronize such a house! It
+suddenly forms in platoon, and marshalled by slightly-colored masters of
+ceremony, promenades in an oblong figure.
+
+Here, leaning modestly on the arm of a tall figure in military uniform,
+and advancing slowly up the hall, is a girl of some sixteen summers. Her
+finely-rounded form is in harmony with the ravishing vivacity of her
+face, which is beautifully oval. Seen by the glaring gas-light her
+complexion is singularly clear and pale. But that freshness which had
+gained her many an admirer, and which gave such a charm to the roundness
+of early youth, we look for in vain. And yet there is a softness and
+delicacy about her well-cut and womanly features--a childlike sweetness
+in her smile--a glow of thoughtfulness in those great, flashing black
+eyes--an expression of melancholy in which at short intervals we read
+her thoughts--an incessant playing of those long dark eyelashes, that
+clothes her charms with an irresistible, a soul-inspiring seductiveness.
+Her dress, of moire antique, is chasteness itself; her bust exquisite
+symmetry; it heaves as softly as if touched by some gentle zephyr. From
+an Haidean brow falls and floats undulating over her marble-like
+shoulders, the massive folds of her glossy black hair. Nature had indeed
+been lavish of her gifts on this fair creature, to whose charms no
+painter could give a touch more fascinating. This girl, whose elastic
+step and erect carriage contrasts strangely with the languid forms about
+her, is Anna Bonard, the neglected, the betrayed. There passes and
+repasses her, now contemplating her with a curious stare, then muttering
+inaudibly, a man of portly figure, in mask and cowl. He touches with a
+delicate hand his watch-guard, we see two sharp, lecherous eyes peering
+through the domino; he folds his arms and pauses a few seconds, as if to
+survey the metal of her companion, then crosses and recrosses her path.
+Presently his singular demeanor attracts her attention, a curl of
+sarcasm is seen on her lip, her brow darkens, her dark orbs flash as of
+fire,--all the heart-burnings of a soul stung with shame are seen to
+quicken and make ghastly those features that but a moment before shone
+lambent as summer lightning. He pauses as with a look of withering scorn
+she scans him from head to foot, raises covertly her left hand, tossing
+carelessly her glossy hair on her shoulder, and with lightning quickness
+snatches with her right the domino from his face. "Hypocrite!" she
+exclaims, dashing it to the ground, and with her foot placed defiantly
+upon the domino, assumes a tragic attitude, her right arm extended, and
+the forefinger of her hand pointing in his face, "Ah!" she continues, in
+biting accents, "it is against the perfidy of such as you. I have
+struggled. Your false face, like your heart, needed a disguise. But I
+have dragged it away, that you may be judged as you are. This is my
+satisfaction for your betrayal. Oh that I could have deeper revenge!"
+She has unmasked Judge Sleepyhorn, who stands before the anxious gaze of
+an hundred night revellers, pressing eagerly to the scene of confusion.
+Madame Flamingo's house, as you may judge, is much out in its dignity,
+and in a general uproar. There was something touching--something that
+the graver head might ponder over, in the words of this unfortunate
+girl--"I have struggled!" A heedless and gold-getting world seldom
+enters upon the mystery of its meaning. But it hath a meaning deep and
+powerful in its appeal to society--one that might serve the good of a
+commonwealth did society stoop and take it by the hand.
+
+So sudden was the motion with which this girl snatched the mask from the
+face of the Judge, (he stood as if appalled,) that, ere he had gained
+his self-possession, she drew from her girdle a pearl-hilted stiletto,
+and in attempting to ward off the dreadful lunge, he struck it from her
+hand, and into her own bosom. The weapon fell gory to the floor--the
+blood trickled down her bodice--a cry of "murder" resounded through the
+hall! The administrator of justice rushed out of the door as the unhappy
+girl swooned in the arms of her partner. A scene so confused and wild
+that it bewilders the brain, now ensued. Madame Flamingo calls loudly
+for Mr. Soloman; and as the reputation of her house is uppermost in her
+thoughts, she atones for its imperiled condition by fainting in the arms
+of a grave old gentleman, who was beating a hasty retreat, and whose
+respectability she may compromise through this uncalled-for act.
+
+A young man of slender form, and pale, sandy features, makes his way
+through the crowd, clasps Anna affectionately in his arms, imprints a
+kiss on her pallid brow, and bears her out of the hall.
+
+By the aid of hartshorn and a few dashes of cold water, the old hostess
+is pleased to come to, as we say, and set about putting her house in
+order. Mr. Soloman, to the great joy of those who did not deem it
+prudent to make their escape, steps in to negotiate for the peace of the
+house and the restoration of order. "It is all the result of a mistake,"
+he says laughingly, and good-naturedly, patting every one he meets on
+the shoulder. "A little bit of jealousy on the part of the girl. It all
+had its origin in an error that can be easily rectified. In a word,
+there's much ado about nothing in the whole of it. Little affairs of
+this kind are incident to fashionable society all over the world! The
+lady being only scratched, is more frightened than hurt. Nobody is
+killed; and if there were, why killings are become so fashionable, that
+if the killed be not a gentleman, nobody thinks anything of it," he
+continues. And Mr. Soloman being an excellent diplomatist, does, with
+the aid of the hostess, her twelve masters of ceremony, her beadle, and
+two policemen, forthwith bring the house to a more orderly condition.
+But night has rolled into the page of the past, the gray dawn of morning
+is peeping in at the half-closed windows, the lights burning in the
+chandeliers shed a pale glow over the wearied features of those who
+drag, as it were, their languid bodies to the stifled music of unwilling
+slaves. And while daylight seems modestly contending with the vulgar
+glare within, there appears among the pale revellers a paler ghost, who,
+having stalked thrice up and down the hall, preserving the frigidity and
+ghostliness of the tomb, answering not the questions that are put to
+him, and otherwise deporting himself as becometh a ghost of good metal,
+is being taken for a demon of wicked import. Now he pauses at the end of
+the hall, faces with spectre-like stare the alarmed group at the
+opposite end, rests his left elbow on his scythe-staff, and having set
+his glass on the floor, points to its running sands warningly with his
+right forefinger. Not a muscle does he move. "Truly a ghost!" exclaims
+one. "A ghost would have vanished before this," whispers another. "Speak
+to him," a third responds, as the musicians are seen to pale and leave
+their benches. Madame Flamingo, pale and weary, is first to rush for the
+door, shrieking as his ghostship turns his grim face upon her. Shriek
+follows shriek, the lights are put out, the gray dawn plays upon and
+makes doubly frightful the spectre. A Pandemonium of shriekings and
+beseechings is succeeded by a stillness as of the tomb. Our ghost is
+victor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+WHAT TAKES PLACE BETWEEN GEORGE MULLHOLLAND AND MR. SNIVEL.
+
+
+The man who kissed and bore away the prostrate girl was George
+Mullholland.
+
+"Oh! George--George!" she whispers imploringly, as her eyes meet his;
+and turning upon the couch of her chamber, where he hath lain her,
+awakes to consciousness, and finds him watching over her with a lover's
+solicitude. "I was not cold because I loved you less--oh no! It was to
+propitiate my ambition--to be free of the bondage of this house--to
+purge myself of the past--to better my future!" And she lays her pale,
+nervous hand gently on his arm--then grasps his hand and presses it
+fervently to her lips.
+
+Though placed beyond the pale of society--though envied by one extreme
+and shunned by the other--she finds George her only true friend. He
+parts and smooths gently over her polished shoulders her dishevelled
+hair; he watches over her with the tenderness of a brother; he quenches
+and wipes away the blood oozing from her wounded breast; he kisses and
+kisses her flushed cheek, and bathes her Ion-like brow. He forgives all.
+His heart would speak if his tongue had words to represent it. He would
+the past were buried--the thought of having wronged him forgotten. She
+recognizes in his solicitude for her the sincerity of his heart. It
+touches like sweet music the tenderest chords of her own; and like
+gushing fountains her great black eyes fill with tears. She buries her
+face in her hands, crying, "Never, never, George, (I swear it before the
+God I have wronged, but whose forgiveness I still pray,) will I again
+forget my obligation to you! I care not how high in station he who seeks
+me maybe. Ambitious!--I was misled. His money lured me away, but he
+betrayed me in the face of his promises. Henceforth I have nothing for
+this deceptive world; I receive of it nothing but betrayal--"
+
+"The world wants nothing more of either of us," interrupts George.
+
+More wounded in her feelings than in her flesh, she sobs and wrings her
+hands like one in despair.
+
+"You have ambition. I am too poor to serve your ambition!"
+
+That word, too "poor," is more than her already distracted brain can
+bear up under. It brings back the terrible picture of their past
+history; it goads and agonizes her very soul. She throws her arms
+frantically about his neck; presses him to her bosom; kisses him with
+the fervor of a child. Having pledged his forgiveness with a kiss, and
+sealed it by calling in a witness too often profaned on such occasions,
+George calms her feelings as best he can; then he smooths with a gentle
+hand the folds of her uplifted dress, and with them curtains the satin
+slippers that so delicately encase her small feet. This done, he spreads
+over her the richly-lined India morning-gown presented to her a few days
+ago by the Judge, who, as she says, so wantonly betrayed her, and on
+whom she sought revenge. Like a Delian maid, surrounded with Oriental
+luxury, and reclining on satin and velvet, she flings her flowing hair
+over her shoulders, nestles her weary head in the embroidered cushion,
+and with the hand of her only true friend firmly grasped in her own,
+soothes away into a calm sleep--that sovereign but too transient balm
+for sorrowing hearts.
+
+Our scene changes. The ghost hath taken himself to the graveyard; the
+morning dawns soft and sunny on what we harmlessly style the sunny city
+of the sunny South. Madame Flamingo hath resolved to nail another
+horse-shoe over her door. She will propitiate (so she hath it) the god
+of ghosts.
+
+George Mullholland, having neither visible means of gaining a livelihood
+nor a settled home, may be seen in a solitary box at Baker's, (a
+coffee-house at the corner of Meeting and Market streets,) eating an
+humble breakfast. About him there is a forlornness that the quick eye
+never fails to discover in the manners of the homeless man. "Cleverly
+done," he says, laying down the _Mercury_ newspaper, in which it is set
+forth that "the St. Cecilia, in consequence of an affliction in the
+family of one of its principal members, postponed its assembly last
+night. The theatre, in consequence of a misunderstanding between the
+manager and his people, was also closed. The lecture on comparative
+anatomy, by Professor Bones, which was to have been delivered at
+Hibernian Hall, is, in consequence of the indisposition of the learned
+Professor, put off to Tuesday evening next, when he will have, as he
+deserves, an overflowing house. Tickets, as before, may be had at all
+the music and bookstores." The said facetious journal was silent on the
+superior attractions at the house of the old hostess; nor did it deem it
+prudent to let drop a word on the misunderstanding between the patrons
+of the drama and the said theatrical manager, inasmuch as it was one of
+those that are sure to give rise to a very serious misunderstanding
+between that functionary and his poor people.
+
+In another column the short but potent line met his eye: "An overflowing
+and exceedingly fashionable house greeted the Negro Minstrels last
+night. First-rate talent never goes begging in our city." George sips
+his coffee and smiles. Wonderfully clever these editors are, he thinks.
+They have nice apologies for public taste always on hand; set the
+country by the ears now and then; and amuse themselves with carrying on
+the most prudent description of wars.
+
+His own isolated condition, however, is uppermost in his mind. Poverty
+and wretchedness stare him in the face on one side; chivalry, on the
+other, has no bows for him while daylight lasts. Instinct whispers in
+his ear--where one exists the other is sure to be.
+
+To the end that this young man will perform a somewhat important part in
+the by-ways of this history, some further description of him may be
+necessary. George Mullholland stands some five feet nine, is
+wiry-limbed, and slender and erect of person. Of light complexion, his
+features, are sharp and irregular, his face narrow and freckled, his
+forehead small and retreating, his hair sandy and short-cropped. Add to
+these two small, dull, gray eyes, and you have features not easily
+described. Nevertheless, there are moments when his countenance wears an
+expression of mildness--one in which the quick eye may read a character
+more inoffensive than intrusive. A swallow-tail blue coat, of ample
+skirts, and brass buttons; a bright-colored waistcoat, opening an
+avalanche of shirt-bosom, blossoming with cheap jewelry; a broad,
+rolling shirt-collar, tied carelessly with a blue ribbon; a
+steeple-crowned hat, set on the side of his head with a challenging air;
+and a pair of broadly-striped and puckered trowsers, reaching well over
+a small-toed and highly-glazed boot, constitutes his dress. For the
+exact set of those two last-named articles of his wardrobe he maintains
+a scrupulous regard. We are compelled to acknowledge George an
+importation from New York, where he would be the more readily recognized
+by that vulgar epithet, too frequently used by the self-styled
+refined--"a swell."
+
+Life with George is a mere drift of uncertainty. As for aims and ends,
+why he sees the safer thing in having nothing to do with them. Mr. Tom
+Toddleworth once advised this course, and Tom was esteemed good
+authority in such matters. Like many others, his character is made up of
+those yielding qualities which the teachings of good men may elevate to
+usefulness, or bad men corrupt by their examples. There is a stage in
+the early youth of such persons when we find their minds singularly
+susceptible, and ready to give rapid growth to all the vices of depraved
+men; while they are equally apt in receiving good, if good men but take
+the trouble to care for them, and inculcate lessons of morality.
+
+Not having a recognized home, we may add, in resuming our story, that
+George makes Baker's his accustomed haunt during the day, as do also
+numerous others of his class--a class recognized and made use of by men
+in the higher walks of life only at night.
+
+"Ah! ha, ha! into a tight place this time, George," laughs out Mr.
+Soloman, the accommodation man, as he hastens into the room, seats
+himself in the box with George, and seizes his hand with the
+earnestness of a true friend. Mr. Soloman can deport himself on all
+occasions with becoming good nature. "It's got out, you see."
+
+"What has got out?" interrupts George, maintaining a careless
+indifference.
+
+"Come now! none of that, old fellow."
+
+"If I understood you--"
+
+"That affair last night," pursues Mr. Soloman, his delicate fingers
+wandering into his more delicately-combed beard. "It'll go hard with
+you. He's a stubborn old cove, that Sleepyhorn; administers the law as
+Cæsar was wont to. Yesterday he sent seven to the whipping-post; to-day
+he hangs two 'niggers' and a white man. There is a consolation in
+getting rid of the white. I say this because no one loses a dollar by
+it."
+
+George, continuing to masticate his bread, says it has nothing to do
+with him. He may hang the town.
+
+"If I can do you a bit of a good turn, why here's your man. But you must
+not talk that way--you must not, George, I assure you!" Mr. Soloman
+assumes great seriousness of countenance, and again, in a friendly way,
+takes George by the hand. "That poignard, George, was yours. It was
+picked up by myself when it fell from your hand--"
+
+"My hand! my hand!" George quietly interposes, his countenance paling,
+and his eyes wandering in excitement.
+
+"Now don't attempt to disguise the matter, you know! Come out on the
+square--own up! Jealousy plays the devil with one now and then. I
+know--I have had a touch of it; had many a little love affair in my
+time--"
+
+George again interrupts by inquiring to what he is coming.
+
+"To the attempt (the accommodation man assumes an air of sternness) you
+made last night on the life of that unhappy girl. It is needless," he
+adds, "to plead ignorance. The Judge has the poignard; and what's more,
+there are four witnesses ready to testify. It'll go hard with you, my
+boy." He shakes his head warningly.
+
+"I swear before God and man I am as innocent as ignorant of the charge.
+The poignard I confess is mine; but I had no part in the act of last
+night, save to carry the prostrate girl--the girl I dearly love--away.
+This I can prove by her own lips."
+
+Mr. Soloman, with an air of legal profundity, says: "This is all very
+well in its way, George, but it won't stand in law. The law is what you
+have got to get at. And when you have got at it, you must get round it;
+and then you must twist it and work it every which way--only be careful
+not to turn its points against yourself; that, you know, is the way we
+lawyers do the thing. You'll think we're a sharp lot; and we have to be
+sharp, as times are."
+
+"It is not surprising," replies George, as if waking from a fit of
+abstraction, "that she should have sought revenge of one who so basely
+betrayed her at the St. Cecilia--"
+
+"There, there!" Mr. Soloman interrupts, changing entirely the expression
+of his countenance, "the whole thing is out! I said there was an
+unexplained mystery somewhere. It was not the Judge, but me who betrayed
+her to the assembly. Bless you, (he smiles, and crooking his finger,
+beckons a servant, whom he orders to bring a julep,) I was bound to do
+it, being the guardian of the Society's dignity, which office I have
+held for years. But you don't mean to have it that the girl
+attempted--(he suddenly corrects himself)--Ah, that won't do, George.
+Present my compliments to Anna--I wouldn't for the world do aught to
+hurt her feelings, you know that--and say I am ready to get on my knees
+to her to confess myself a penitent for having injured her feelings.
+Yes, I am ready to do anything that will procure her forgiveness. I
+plead guilty. But she must in return forgive the Judge. He is hard in
+law matters--that is, we of the law consider him so--now and then; but
+laying that aside, he is one of the best old fellows in the world, loves
+Anna to distraction; nor has he the worst opinion in the world of you,
+George. Fact is, I have several times heard him refer to you in terms of
+praise. As I said before, being the man to do you a bit of a good turn,
+take my advice as a friend. The Judge has got you in his grasp,
+according to every established principle of law; and having four good
+and competent witnesses, (You have no voice in law, and Anna's won't
+stand before a jury,) will send you up for a twelve-months' residence in
+Mount Rascal."
+
+It will be almost needless here to add, that Mr. Soloman had, in an
+interview with the Judge, arranged, in consideration of a goodly fee, to
+assume the responsibility of the betrayal at the St. Cecilia; and also
+to bring about a reconciliation between him and the girl he so
+passionately sought.
+
+Keep out of the way a few days, and everything will blow over and come
+right. I will procure you the Judge's friendship--yes, his money, if you
+want. More than that, I will acknowledge my guilt to Anna; and being as
+generous of heart as she is beautiful, she will, having discovered the
+mistake, forgive me and make amends to the Judge for her foolish act.
+
+It is almost superfluous to add, that the apparent sincerity with which
+the accommodation man pleaded, had its effect on the weak-minded man. He
+loved dearly the girl, but poverty hung like a leaden cloud over him.
+Poverty stripped him of the means of gratifying her ambition; poverty
+held him fast locked in its blighting chains; poverty forbid his
+rescuing her from the condition necessity had imposed upon her; poverty
+was goading him into crime; and through crime only did he see the means
+of securing to himself the cherished object of his love.
+
+"I am not dead to your friendship, but I am too sad at heart to make any
+pledge that involves Anna, at this moment. We met in wretchedness, came
+up in neglect and crime, sealed our love with the hard seal of
+suffering. Oh! what a history of misery my heart could unfold, if it had
+but a tongue!" George replies, in subdued accents, as a tear courses
+down his cheek.
+
+Extending his hand, with an air of encouragement, Mr. Soloman says
+nothing in the world would so much interest him as a history of the
+relations existing between George and Anna. Their tastes, aims, and very
+natures, are different. To him their connection is clothed in mystery.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+IN WHICH A GLEAM OF LIGHT IS SHED ON THE HISTORY OF ANNA BONARD.
+
+
+A bottle of wine, and the mild, persuasive manner of Mr. Snivel, so
+completely won over George's confidence, that, like one of that class
+always too ready to give out their heart-achings at the touch of
+sympathy, and too easily betrayed through misplaced confidence, he
+commences relating his history. That of Anna is identified with it. "We
+will together proceed to New York, for it is there, among haunts of vice
+and depravity--"
+
+"In depth of degradation they have no counterpart on our globe," Mr.
+Soloman interrupts, filling his glass.
+
+"We came up together--knew each other, but not ourselves. That was our
+dark age." George pauses for a moment.
+
+"Bless you," again interrupts Mr. Soloman, tipping his glass very
+politely, "I never--that is, when I hear our people who get themselves
+laced into narrow-stringed Calvinism, and long-founded foreign missions,
+talk--think much could have come of the dark ages. I speak after the
+manner of an attorney, when I say this. We hear a deal of the dark ages,
+the crimes of the dark ages, the dark idolatry of darker Africa. My word
+for it, and it's something, if they had anything darker in Sodom; if
+they had in Babylon a state of degradation more hardened of crime; if
+in Egypt there existed a benightedness more stubbornly opposed to the
+laws of God--than is to be found in that New York; that city of merchant
+princes with princely palaces; that modern Pompeii into which a mighty
+commerce teems its mightier gold, where a coarse throng revel in coarser
+luxury, where a thousand gaudy churches rear heavenward their gaudier
+steeples, then I have no pity for Sodom, not a tear to shed over fallen
+Babylon, and very little love for Egypt." Mr. Snivel concludes,
+saying--"proceed, young man."
+
+"Of my mother I know nothing. My father (I mean the man I called father,
+but who they said was not my father, though he was the only one that
+cared anything for me) was Tom English, who used to live here and there
+with me about the Points. He was always looking in at Paddy Pie's, in
+Orange street, and Paddy Pie got all his money, and then Paddy Pie and
+him quarrelled, and we were turned out of Paddy Pie's house. So we used
+to lodge here and there, in the cellars about the Points, in 'Cut Throat
+Alley,' or 'Cow Bay,' or 'Murderer's Alley,' or in 'The House of the
+Nine Nations,' or wherever we could get a sixpenny rag to lay down upon.
+Nobody but English seemed to care for me, and English cared for nobody
+but me. And English got thick with Mrs. McCarty and her three
+daughters--they kept the Rookery in 'Cow Bay,' which we used to get to
+up a long pair of stairs outside, and which God knows I never want to
+think of again,--where sometimes fourteen or fifteen of us, men and
+women, used to sleep in a little room Mrs. McCarty paid eight dollars a
+month for. And Mr. Crown, who always seemed a cross sort of man, and was
+agent for all the houses on the Points I thought, used to say she had it
+too cheap. And English got to thinking a good deal of Mrs. McCarty, and
+Mrs. McCarty's daughters got to thinking a good deal of him. And
+Boatswain Bill, who lived at the house of the 'Nine Nations'--the house
+they said had a bottomless pit--and English used to fight a deal about
+the Miss McCartys, and Bill one night threw English over the high stoop,
+down upon the pavement, and broke his arms. They said it was a wonder it
+hadn't a broken his neck. Fighting Mary (Mary didn't go by that name
+then) came up and took English's part, and whipped Boatswain Bill, and
+said she'd whip the whole house of the 'Nine Nations' if it had spunk
+enough in it to come on. But no one dare have a set-to with Mary. Mary
+used to drink a deal of gin, and say--'this gin and the devil'll get us
+all one of these days. I wonder if Mr. Crown'll sell bad gin to his
+highness when he gets him?' Well, Bill was sent up for six months, so
+the McCartys had peace in the house, and Mrs. McCarty got him little
+things, and did for English until his arms got well. Then he got a
+little money, (I don't know how he got it,) and Paddy Pie made good
+friends with him, and got him from the Rookery, and then all his money.
+I used to think all the money in the Points found its way either to the
+house of Paddy Pie, or the Bottomless Pit at the house of the 'Nine
+Nations,' and all the clothes to the sign of the 'Three Martyrs,' which
+the man with the eagle face kept round the corner.
+
+"English used to say in one of his troubled fits, 'I'd like to be a
+respectable man, and get out of this, if there was a chance, and do
+something for you, George. There's no chance, you see.' And when we went
+into Broadway, which we did now and then, and saw what another world it
+was, and how rich everything looked, English used to shake his head and
+say, 'they don't know how we live, George.'
+
+"Paddy Pie soon quarrelled with English, and being penniless again we
+had to shift for ourselves. English didn't like to go back to Mrs.
+McCarty, so we used to sleep at Mrs. Sullivan's cellar in 'Cut Throat
+Alley.' And Mrs. Sullivan's cellar was only about twelve feet by twenty,
+and high enough to stand up in, and wet enough for anything, and so
+overrun with rats and vermin that we couldn't sleep. There were nine
+rag-beds in the cellar, which as many as twenty-three would sometimes
+sleep on, or, if they were not too tipsy, try to sleep on. And folks
+used to come into the cellar at night, and be found dead in the morning.
+This made such a fuss in the neighborhood (there was always a fuss when
+Old Bones, the coroner, was about), and frightened so many, that Mrs.
+Sullivan couldn't get lodgers for weeks. She used to nail no end of
+horse-shoes over the door to keep out the ghosts of them that died last.
+But it was a long while before her lodgers got courage enough to come
+back. Then we went to the house of the Blazers, in 'Cow Bay,' and used
+to lodge there with Yellow Bill. They said Bill was a thief by
+profession; but I wasn't old enough to be a judge. Little Lizza Rock,
+the nondescript, as people called her, used to live at the Blazers. Poor
+Lizza had a hard time of it, and used to sigh and say she wished she was
+dead. Nobody thought of her, she said, and she was nothing because she
+was deformed, and a cripple. She was about four feet high, had a face
+like a bull-dog, and a swollen chest, and a hunchback, a deformed leg,
+and went with a crutch. She never combed her hair, and what few rags she
+had on her back hung in filth. What few shillings she got were sure to
+find their way either into Bill's pocket, or send her tipsy into the
+'Bottomless Pit' of the house of the 'Nine Nations.' There was in the
+Bottomless Pit a never-ending stream of gin that sent everybody to the
+Tombs, and from the Tombs to the grave. But Lizza was good to me, and
+used to take care of me, and steal little things for me from old Dan
+Sullivan, who begged in Broadway, and let Yellow Bill get his money, by
+getting him tipsy. And I got to liking Lizza, for we both seemed to have
+no one in the world who cared for us but English. And there was always
+some trouble between the Blazers and the people at the house of the
+'Nine Nations.'
+
+"Well, English was hard to do for some time, and through necessity,
+which he said a deal about, we were driven out of every place we had
+sought shelter in. And English did something they sent him up for a
+twelve-month for, and I was left to get on as I could. I was took in by
+'Hard-Fisted Sall,' who always wore a knuckle-duster, and used to knock
+everybody down she met, and threatened a dozen times to whip Mr.
+Fitzgerald, the detective, and used to rob every one she took in tow,
+and said if she could only knock down and rob the whole pumpkin-headed
+corporation she should die easy, for then she would know she had done a
+good thing for the public, whose money they were squandering without
+once thinking how the condition of such wretches as herself could be
+bettered.
+
+"English died before he had been up two months. And death reconciled the
+little difficulty between him and the McCartys; and old Mrs. McCarty's
+liking for him came back, and she went crying to the Bellevue and begged
+them, saying she was his mother, to let her take his body away and bury
+it. They let her have it, and she brought it away to the rookery, in a
+red coffin, and got a clean sheet of the Blazers, and hung it up beside
+the coffin, and set four candles on a table, and a little cross between
+them, and then borrowed a Bible with a cross on it, and laid it upon the
+coffin. Then they sent for me. I cried and kissed poor English, for poor
+English was the only father I knew, and he was good to me. I never shall
+forget what I saw in that little room that night. I found a dozen
+friends and the McCartys there, forming a half-circle of curious and
+demoniacal faces, peering over the body of English, whose face, I
+thought, formed the only repose in the picture. There were two small
+pictures--one of the Saviour, and the other of Kossuth--hung at the head
+and feet of the corpse; and the light shed a lurid paleness over the
+living and the dead. And detective Fitzgerald and another gentleman
+looked in.
+
+"'Who's here to-night?' says Fitzgerald, in a friendly sort of way.
+
+"'God love ye, Mr. Fitzgerald, poor English is gone! Indeed, then, it
+was the will of the Lord, and He's taken him from us--poor English!'
+says Mrs. McCarty. And Fitzgerald, and the gentleman with him, entered
+the den, and they shuddered and sat down at the sight of the face in the
+coffin. 'Sit down, Mr. Fitzgerald, do!--and may the Lord love ye! There
+was a deal of good in poor English. He's gone--so he is!' said Mrs.
+McCarty, begging them to sit down, and excuse the disordered state of
+her few rags. She had a hard struggle to live, God knows. They took off
+their hats, and sat a few minutes in solemn silence. The rags moved at
+the gentleman's side, which made him move towards the door. 'What is
+there, my good woman?' he inquired. 'She's a blessed child, Mr.
+Fitzgerald knows that same:' says Mrs. McCarty, turning down the rags
+and revealing the wasted features of her youngest girl, a child eleven
+years old, sinking in death. 'God knows she'll be better in heaven, and
+herself won't be long out of it,' Mrs. McCarty twice repeated,
+maintaining a singular indifference to the hand of death, already upon
+the child. The gentleman left some money to buy candles for poor
+English, and with Mr. Fitzgerald took himself away.
+
+"Near midnight, the tall black figure of solemn-faced Father Flaherty
+stalked in. He was not pleased with the McCartys, but went to the side
+of the dying child, fondled her little wasted hand in his own, and
+whispered a prayer for her soul. Never shall I forget how innocently she
+looked in his face while he parted the little ringlets that curled over
+her brow, and told her she would soon have a better home in a better
+world. Then he turned to poor English, and the cross, and the candles,
+and the pictures, and the living faces that gave such a ghastliness to
+the picture. Mrs. McCarty brought him a basin of water, over which he
+muttered, and made it holy. Then he again muttered some unintelligible
+sentences, and sprinkled the water over the dying child, over the body
+of poor English, and over the living--warning Mrs. McCarty and her
+daughters, as he pointed to the coffin. Then he knelt down, and they all
+knelt down, and he prayed for the soul of poor English, and left. What
+holy water then was left, Mrs. McCarty placed near the door, to keep the
+ghosts out.
+
+"The neighbors at the Blazers took a look in, and a few friends at the
+house of the 'Nine Nations' took a look in, and 'Fighting Mary,' of
+Murderer's Alley, took a look in, and before Father Flaherty had got
+well out of 'Cow Bay,' it got to be thought a trifle of a wake would
+console Mrs. McCarty's distracted feelings. 'Hard-fisted Sall' came to
+take a last look at poor English; and she said she would spend her last
+shilling over poor English, and having one, it would get a drop, and a
+drop dropped into the right place would do Mrs. McCarty a deal of good.
+
+"And Mrs. McCarty agreed that it wouldn't be amiss, and putting with
+Sall's shilling the money that was to get the candles, I was sent to the
+'Bottomless Pit' at the house of the 'Nine Nations,' where Mr. Crown had
+a score with the old woman, and fetched away a quart of his gin, which
+they said was getting the whole of them. The McCartys took a drop, and
+the girls took a drop, and the neighbors took a drop, and they all kept
+taking drops, and the drops got the better of them all. One of the Miss
+McCartys got to having words with 'Fighting Mary,' about an old affair
+in which poor English was concerned, and the words got to blows, when
+Mr. Flanegan at the Blazers stepped in to make peace. But the whole
+house got into a fight, and the lights were put out, the corpse knocked
+over, and the child (it was found dead in the morning) suffocated with
+the weight of bodies felled in the melee. The noise and cries of murder
+brought the police rushing in, and most of them were dragged off to the
+Station; and the next day being Sunday, I wandered homeless and
+friendless into Sheriff street. Poor English was taken in charge by the
+officers. They kept him over Monday to see if any one would come up and
+claim him. No one came for him; no one knew more of him than that he
+went by the name of English; no one ever heard him say where he came
+from--he never said a word about my mother, or whether he had a relation
+in the world. He was carted off to Potter's Field and buried. That was
+the last of poor English.
+
+"We seldom got much to eat in the Points, and I had not tasted food for
+twenty-four hours. I sat down on the steps of a German grocery, and was
+soon ordered away by the keeper. Then I wandered into a place they
+called Nightmare's Alley, where three old wooden buildings with
+broken-down verandas stood, and were inhabited principally by butchers.
+I sat down on the steps of one, and thought if I only had a mother, or
+some one to care for me, and give me something to eat, how happy I
+should be. And I cried. And a great red-faced man came out of the house,
+and took me in, and gave me something to eat. His name was Mike
+Mullholland, and he was good to me, and I liked him, and took his name.
+And he lived with a repulsive looking woman, in a little room he paid
+ten dollars a month for. He had two big dogs, and worked at day work, in
+a slaughter-house in Staunton street. The dogs were known in the
+neighborhood as Mullholland's dogs, and with them I used to sleep on the
+rags of carpet spread for us in the room with Mullholland and his wife,
+who I got to calling mother. This is how I took the name of Mullholland.
+I was glad to leave the Points, and felt as if I had a home. But there
+was a 'Bottomless Pit' in Sheriff street, and though not so bad as the
+one at the house of the 'Nine Nations,' it gave out a deal of gin that
+the Mullhollands had a liking for. I was continually going for it, and
+the Mullhollands were continually drinking it; and the whole
+neighborhood liked it, and in 'Nightmare's Alley' the undertaker found a
+profitable business.
+
+"In the morning I went with the dogs to the slaughter-house, and there
+fed them, and took care of the fighting cocks, and brought gin for the
+men who worked there. In the afternoon I joined the newsboys, as ragged
+and neglected as myself, gambled for cents, and watched the policemen,
+whom we called the Charleys. I lived with Mullholland two years, and saw
+and felt enough to make hardened any one of my age. One morning there
+came a loud knocking at the door, which was followed by the entrance of
+two officers. The dogs had got out and bitten a child, and the officers,
+knowing who owned them, had come to arrest Mullholland. We were all
+surprised, for the officers recognized in Mullholland and the woman two
+old offenders. And while they were dragged off to the Tombs, I was left
+to prey upon the world as best I could. Again homeless, I wandered about
+with urchins as ragged and destitute as myself. It seemed to me that
+everybody viewed me as an object of suspicion, for I sought in vain for
+employment that would give me bread and clothing. I wanted to be honest,
+and would have lived honest; but I could not make people believe me
+honest. And when I told who I was, and where I sheltered myself, I was
+ordered away. Everybody judged me by the filthy shreds on my back;
+nobody had anything for me to do.
+
+"I applied at a grocer's, to sweep his store and go errands. When I told
+him where I had lived, he shook his head and ordered me away. Knowing I
+could fill a place not unknown to me, I applied at a butcher's in Mott
+street; but he pointed his knife--which left a wound in my feelings--and
+ordered me away. And I was ordered away wherever I went. The doors of
+the Chatham theatre looked too fine for me. My ragged condition rebuked
+me wherever I went, and for more than a week I slept under a cart that
+stood in Mott street. Then Tom Farley found me, and took me with him to
+his cellar, in Elizabeth street, where we had what I thought a good bed
+of shavings. Tom sold _Heralds_, gambled for cents, and shared with me,
+and we got along. Then Tom stole a dog, and the dog got us into a deal
+of trouble, which ended with getting us both into the Tombs, where Tom
+was locked up. I was again adrift, as we used to call it, and thought of
+poor Tom a deal. Every one I met seemed higher up in the world than I
+was. But I got into Centre Market, carried baskets, and did what I could
+to earn a shilling, and slept in Tom's bed, where there was some nights
+fifteen and twenty like myself.
+
+"One morning, while waiting a job, my feet and hands benumbed with the
+cold, a beautiful lady slipped a shilling into my hand and passed on. To
+one penniless and hungry, it seemed a deal of money. Necessity had
+almost driven me to the sign of the 'Three Martyrs,' to see what the man
+of the eagle face would give me on my cap, for they said the man at the
+'Three Martyrs' lent money on rags such as I had. I followed the woman,
+for there was something so good in the act that I could not resist it.
+She entered a fine house in Leonard street.
+
+"You must now go with me into the den of Hag Zogbaum, in 'Scorpion
+Cove;' and 'Scorpion Cove' is in Pell street. Necessity next drove me
+there. It is early spring, we will suppose; and being in the Bowery, we
+find the streets in its vicinity reeking with putrid matter, hurling
+pestilence into the dark dwellings of the unknown poor, and making
+thankful the coffin-maker, who in turn thanks a nonundertaking
+corporation for the rich harvest. The muck is everywhere deep enough
+for hogs and fat aldermen to wallow in, and would serve well the
+purposes of a supper-eating corporation, whose chief business it was to
+fatten turtles and make Presidents.
+
+"We have got through the muck of the mucky Bowery. Let us turn to the
+left as we ascend the hill from Chatham street, and into a narrow,
+winding way, called Doyer's street. Dutch Sophy, then, as now, sits in
+all the good nature of her short, fat figure, serving her customers with
+ices, at three cents. Her cunning black eyes and cheerful, ruddy face,
+enhance the air of pertness that has made her a favorite with her
+customers. We will pass the little wooden shop, where Mr. Saunders makes
+boots of the latest style, and where old lapstone, with curious framed
+spectacles tied over his bleared eyes, has for the last forty years been
+seen at the window trimming welts, and mending every one's sole but his
+own; we will pass the four story wooden house that the landlord never
+paints--that has the little square windows, and the little square door,
+and the two little iron hand rails that curl so crabbedly at the ends,
+and guard four crabbeder steps that give ingress and egress to its swarm
+of poor but honest tenants; we will pass the shop where a short, stylish
+sign tells us Mr. Robertson makes bedsteads; and the little, slanting
+house a line of yellow letters on a square of black tin tells us is a
+select school for young ladies, and the bright, dainty looking house
+with the green shutters, where lives Mr. Vredenburg the carpenter, who,
+the neighbors say, has got up in the world, and paints his house to show
+that he feels above poor folks--and find we have reached the sooty and
+gin-reeking grocery of Mr. Korner, who sells the _devil's elixir_ to the
+sootier devils that swarm the cellars of his neighbors. The faded blue
+letters, on a strip of wood nailed to the bricks over his door, tell us
+he is a dealer in 'Imported and other liquors.' Next door to Mr.
+Korner's tipsy looking grocery lives Mr. Muffin, the coffin-maker, who
+has a large business with the disciples who look in at Korner's. Mrs.
+Downey, a decent sort of body, who lives up the alley, and takes
+sixpenny lodgers by the dozen, may be seen in great tribulation with her
+pet pig, who, every day, much to the annoyance of Mr. Korner, manages to
+get out, and into the pool of decaying matter opposite his door, where
+he is sure to get stuck, and with his natural propensity, squeals
+lustily for assistance. Mrs. Downey, as is her habit, gets distracted;
+and having well abused Mr. Korner for his interference in a matter that
+can only concern herself and the animal, ventures to her knees in the
+mire, and having seized her darling pig by the two ears, does, with the
+assistance of a policeman, who kindly takes him by the tail, extricate
+his porkship, to the great joy of herself. The animal scampers,
+grunting, up the alley, as Mr. Korner, in his shirt sleeves, throws his
+broom after him, and the policeman surlily says he wishes it was the
+street commissioner.
+
+"We have made the circle of Doyer's street, and find it fortified on
+Pell street, with two decrepit wooden buildings, that the demand for the
+'devil's elixir,' has converted into Dutch groceries, their exteriors
+presenting the appearance of having withstood a storm of dilapidated
+clapboards, broken shutters, red herrings, and onions. Mr. Voss looks
+suspiciously through the broken shutters of his Gibraltar, at his
+neighbor of the opposite Gibraltar, and is heard to say of his wares
+that they are none of the best, and that while he sells sixpence a pint
+less, the article is a shilling a pint better. And there the two
+Gibraltars stand, apparently infirm, hurling their unerring missiles,
+and making wreck of everything in the neighborhood.
+
+"We have turned down Pell street toward Mott, and on the north side a
+light-colored sign, representing a smith in the act of shoeing a horse,
+attracts the eye, and tells us the old cavern-like building over which
+it swings, is where Mr. Mooney does smithwork and shoeing. And a little
+further on, a dash of yellow and white paint on a little sign-board at
+the entrance of an alley, guarded on one side by a broken-down shed, and
+on the other, by a three-story, narrow, brick building (from the windows
+of which trail long water-stains, and from the broken panes a dozen
+curious black heads, of as many curious eyed negroes protrude), tells us
+somewhat indefinitely, that Mister Mills, white-washer and wall-colorer,
+may be found in the neighborhood, which, judging from outward
+appearances, stands much in need of this good man's services. Just keep
+your eye on the sign of the white-washer and wall-colorer, and passing
+up the sickly alley it tells you Mister Mills maybe found in, you will
+find yourself (having picked your way over putrid matter, and placed
+your perfumed cambric where it will protect your lungs from the
+inhalation of pestilential air,) in the cozy area of 'Scorpion Cove.'
+Scorpion Cove is bounded at one end by a two-story wooden house, with
+two decayed and broken verandas in front, and rickety steps leading here
+and there to suspicious looking passages, into which, and out of which a
+never-ending platoon of the rising generation crawl and toddle, keep up
+a cheap serenade, and like rats, scamper away at the sight of a
+stranger; and on the other, by the back of the brick house with the
+negro-headed front. At the sides are two broken-down board fences, and
+forming a sort of network across the cove, are an innumerable quantity
+of unoccupied clothes-lines, which would seem only to serve the
+mischievous propensities of young negroes and the rats. There is any
+quantity of rubbish in 'Scorpion Cove,' and any amount of
+disease-breeding cesspools; but the corporation never heard of 'Scorpion
+Cove,' and wouldn't look into it if it had. If you ask me how it came to
+be called 'Scorpion Cove,' I will tell you. The brick house at one end
+was occupied by negroes; and the progeny of these negroes swarmed over
+the cove, and were called scorpions. The old house of the verandas at
+the other end, and which had an air of being propped up after a shock of
+paralysis, was inhabited by twenty or more families, of the Teutonic
+race, whose numerous progeny, called the hedge-hogs, were more than a
+match for the scorpions, and with that jealousy of each other which
+animates these races did the scorpions and hedge-hogs get at war. In the
+morning the scorpions would crawl up through holes in the cellar,
+through broken windows, through the trap-doors, down the long stairway
+that wound from the second and third stories over the broken pavilion,
+and from nobody could tell where--for they came, it seems, from every
+rat-hole, and with rolling white eyes, marshalled themselves for battle.
+The hedge-hogs mustering in similar strength, and springing up from no
+one could tell where, would set upon the scorpions, and after a goodly
+amount of wallowing in the mire, pulling hair and wool, scratching faces
+and pommeling noses, the scorpions being alternately the victors and
+vanquished, the war would end at the appearance of Hag Zogbaum, who,
+with her broom, would cause the scorpions to beat a hasty retreat. The
+hedge-hogs generally came off victorious, for they were the stronger
+race. But the old hedge-hogs got much shattered in time by the
+broadsides of the two Gibraltars, which sent them broadside on into the
+Tombs. And this passion of the elder hedge-hogs for getting into the
+Tombs, caused by degrees a curtailing of the younger hedge-hogs. And
+this falling off in the forces of the foe, singularly inspirited the
+scorpions, who mustered courage, and after a series of savage battles,
+in which there was a notorious amount of wool-pulling, gained the day.
+And this is how 'Scorpion Cove' got its name.
+
+"Hag Zogbaum lived in the cellar of the house with the verandas; and old
+Dan Sullivan and the rats had possession of the garret. In the cellar of
+this woman, whose trade was the fostering of crime in children as
+destitute as myself, there was a bar and a back cellar, where as many as
+twenty boys and girls slept on straw and were educated in vice. She took
+me into her nursery, and I was glad to get there, for I had no other
+place to go.
+
+"In the morning we were sent out to pilfer, to deceive the credulous,
+and to decoy others to the den. Some were instructed by Hag Zogbaum to
+affect deaf and dumb, to plead the starving condition of our parents,
+to, in a word, enlist the sympathies of the credulous with an hundred
+different stories. We were all stimulated by a premium being held out to
+the most successful. Some were sent out to steal pieces of iron, brass,
+copper, and old junk; and these Hag Zogbaum would sell or give to the
+man who kept the junk-shop in Stanton street, known as the rookery at
+the corner. (This man lived with Hag Zogbaum.) We returned at night with
+our booty, and received our wages in gin or beer. The unsuccessful were
+set down as victims of bad luck. Now and then the old woman would call
+us a miserable lot of wretches she was pestered to take care of. At one
+time there were in this den of wretchedness fifteen girls from seven to
+eleven years old, and seven boys under eleven--all being initiated into
+the by-ways of vice and crime. Among the girls were Italians, Germans,
+Irish, and--shall I say it?--Americans! It was curious to see what means
+the old hag would resort to for the purpose of improving their features
+after they had arrived at a certain age. She had a purpose in this; and
+that purpose sprang from that traffic in depravity caused by the demands
+of a depraved society, a theme on her lips continually."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+A CONTINUATION OF GEORGE MULLHOLLAND'S HISTORY.
+
+
+"Having served well the offices of felons and impostors, Hag Zogbaum
+would instruct her girls in the mysteries of licentiousness. When they
+reached a certain age, their personal appearance was improved, and one
+by one they were passed into the hands of splendidly-dressed ladies, as
+we then took them to be, who paid a sum for them to Hag Zogbaum, and
+took them away; and that was the last we saw of them. They had no desire
+to remain in their miserable abode, and were only too glad to get away
+from it. In most cases they were homeless and neglected orphans; and
+knowing no better condition, fell easy victims to the snares set for
+them.
+
+"It was in this dark, cavern-like den--in this mysterious caldron of
+precocious depravity, rioting unheeded in the very centre of a great
+city, whose boasted wealth and civilization it might put to shame, if
+indeed it were capable of shame, I first met the child of beauty, Anna
+Bonard. Yes!--the Anna Bonard you now see at the house of Madame
+Flamingo. At that time she was but seven years old--a child of uncommon
+beauty and aptness, of delicate but well-proportioned features, of
+middle stature, and a face that care might have made charming beyond
+comparison. But vice hardens, corrodes, and gives a false hue to the
+features. Anna said she was an orphan. How far this was true I know
+not. A mystery shrouded the way in which she fell into the hands of Hag
+Zogbaum. Hag Zogbaum said she got her of an apple-woman; and the
+apple-woman kept a stand in West street, but never would disclose how
+she came by Anna. And Mr. Tom Toddleworth, who was the chronicle of the
+Points, and used to look into 'Scorpion Cove' now and then, and inquire
+about Anna, as if he had a sort of interest in her, they said knew all
+about her. But if he did, he always kept it a secret between himself and
+Hag Zogbaum.
+
+"She was always of a melancholy turn, used to say life was but a burden
+to her--that she could see nothing in the future that did not seem dark
+and tortuous. The lot into which she was cast of necessity others might
+have mistaken for that which she had chosen. It was not. The hard hand
+of necessity had forced her into this quicksand of death; the
+indifference of a naturally generous community, robbed her of the light
+of intelligence, and left her a helpless victim in the hands of this
+cultivator of vice. How could she, orphan as she was called, and
+unencouraged, come to be a noble and generous-hearted woman? No one
+offered her the means to come up and ornament her sex; but tyrannical
+society neither forgets her misfortunes nor forgives her errors. Once
+seal the death-warrant of a woman's errors, and you have none to come
+forward and cancel it; the tomb only removes the seal. Anna took a
+liking to me, and was kind to me, and looked to me to protect her. And I
+loved her, and our love grew up, and strengthened; and being alike
+neglected in the world, our condition served as the strongest means of
+cementing our attachment.
+
+"Hag Zogbaum then sent Anna away to the house up the alley, in Elizabeth
+street, where she sent most of her girls when they had reached the age
+of eleven and twelve. Hag Zogbaum had many places for her female pupils.
+The very best looking always went a while to the house in the alley; the
+next best looking were sure to find their way into the hands of Miss
+Brown, in Little Water street, and Miss Brown, they said, sold them to
+the fairies of the South, who dressed them in velvet and gold; and the
+'scrubs,' as the old woman used to call the rest, got, by some
+mysterious process, into the hands of Paddy Pie and Tim Branahan, who
+kept shantees in Orange street.
+
+"Anna had been away some time, and Mr. Tom Toddleworth had several times
+been seen to look in and inquire for her. Mr. Toddleworth said he had a
+ripping bid for her. At that time I was ignorant of its meaning. Harry
+Rooney and me were sent to the house in Elizabeth street, one morning,
+to bring Anna and another girl home. The house was large, and had an air
+of neatness about it that contrasted strangely with the den in 'Scorpion
+Cove.' We rang the bell and inquired for the girls, who, after waiting
+nearly an hour, were sent down to us, clean and neatly dressed. In Anna
+the change was so great, that though I had loved her, and thought of her
+day and night during her absence, I scarce recognized her. So glad did
+she seem to see me that she burst into tears, flung her arms about my
+neck, and kissed me with the fondness of a sister. Then she recounted
+with childlike enthusiasm the kind treatment she had received at the
+house of Madame Harding (for such it was called), between whom and Hag
+Zogbaum there was carried on a species of business I am not inclined to
+designate here. Two kind and splendidly-dressed ladies, Anna said,
+called to see them nearly every day, and were going to take them away,
+that they might live like fairies all the rest of their lives.
+
+"When we got home, two ladies were waiting at the den. It was not the
+first time we had seen them at the den. Anna recognized them as the
+ladies she had seen at Madame Harding's. One was the woman who so kindly
+gave me the shilling in the market, when I was cold and hungry. A
+lengthy whispering took place between Hag Zogbaum and the ladies, and we
+were ordered into the back cellar. I knew the whispering was about Anna;
+and watching through the boards I heard the Hag say Anna was fourteen
+and nothing less, and saw one of the ladies draw from her purse numerous
+pieces of gold, which were slipped into her hand. In a few minutes more
+I saw poor little Anna follow her up the steps that led into 'Scorpion
+Cove.' When we were released Hag was serving ragged and dejected-looking
+men with gin and beer. Anna, she said when I inquired, had gone to a
+good home in the country. I loved her ardently, and being lonesome was
+not content with the statement of the old woman. I could not read, but
+had begun to think for myself, and something told me all was not right.
+For weeks and months I watched at the house in Leonard street, into
+which I had followed the woman who gave me the shilling. But I neither
+saw her nor the woman. Elegant carriages, and elegantly-dressed men
+drove to and from the door, and passed in and out of the house, and the
+house seemed to have a deal of fashionable customers, and that was all I
+knew of it then.
+
+"As I watched one night, a gentleman came out of the house, took me by
+the arm and shook me, said I was a loitering vagrant, that he had seen
+me before, and having a suspicious look he would order the watch to lock
+me up. He inquired where my home was; and when I told him it was in
+'Scorpion Cove,' he replied he didn't know where that was. I told him it
+wasn't much of a home, and he said I ought to have a better one. It was
+all very well to say so; but with me the case was different. That night
+I met Tom Farley, who was glad to see me, and told how he got out of the
+lock-up, and what he thought of the lock-up, and the jolly old Judge who
+sent him to the lock-up, and who he saw in the lock-up, and what
+mischief was concocted in the lock-up, and what he got to eat in the
+lock-up, and how the lock-up wasn't so bad a place after all.
+
+"The fact was I was inclined to think the lock-up not so bad a place to
+get into, seeing how they gave people something good to eat, and clothes
+to wear. Tom and me went into business together. We sold _Heralds_ and
+Sunday papers, and made a good thing of it, and shared our earnings, and
+got enough to eat and some clothes. I took up my stand in Centre Market,
+and Tom took up his at Peck Slip. At night we would meet, count our
+earnings, and give them to Mr. Crogan, who kept the cellar in Water
+street, where we slept. I left Hag Zogbaum, who we got to calling the
+wizard. She got all we could earn or pilfer, and we got nothing for our
+backs but a few rags, and unwholesome fish and beer for our bellies. I
+thought of Anna day and night; I hoped to meet in Centre Market the
+woman who took her away.
+
+"I said no one ever looked in at the den in 'Scorpion Cove,' but there
+was a kind little man, with sharp black eyes, and black hair, and an
+earnest olive-colored face, and an earnester manner about him, who used
+to look in now and then, talk kindly to us, and tell us he wished he had
+a home for us all, and was rich enough to give us all enough to eat. He
+hated Hag Zogbaum, and Hag Zogbaum hated him; but we all liked him
+because he was kind to us, and used to shake his head, and say he would
+do something for us yet. Hag Zogbaum said he was always meddling with
+other people's business. At other times a man would come along and throw
+tracts in at the gate of the alley. We were ignorant of what they were
+intended for, and used to try to sell them at the Gibraltars. Nobody
+wanted them, and nobody could read at the den, so Hag Zogbaum lighted
+the fire with them, and that was the end of them.
+
+"Well, I sold papers for nearly two years, and learned to read a little
+by so doing, and got up in the world a little; and being what was called
+smart, attracted the attention of a printer in Nassau street, who took
+me into his office, and did well by me. My mind was bent on getting a
+trade. I knew I could do well for myself with a trade to lean upon. Two
+years I worked faithfully at the printer's, was approaching manhood, and
+with the facilities it afforded me had not failed to improve my mind and
+get a tolerable good knowledge of the trade. But the image of Anna, and
+the singular manner in which she disappeared, made me unhappy.
+
+"On my return from dinner one day I met in Broadway the lady who took
+Anna away. The past and its trials flashed across my brain, and I turned
+and followed her--found that her home was changed to Mercer street, and
+this accounted for my fruitless watching in Leonard street.
+
+"The love of Anna, that had left its embers smouldering in my bosom,
+quickened, and seemed to burn with redoubled ardor. It was my first and
+only love; the sufferings of our childhood had made it lasting. My very
+emotion rose to action as I saw the woman I knew took her away. My
+anxiety to know her fate had no bounds. Dressing myself up as
+respectably as it was possible with my means, I took advantage of a dark
+and stormy night in the month of November to call at the house in Mercer
+street, into which I had traced the lady. I rung the bell; a
+sumptuously-dressed woman came to the door, which opened into a
+gorgeously-decorated hall. She looked at me with an inquiring eye and
+disdainful frown, inquired who I was and what I wanted. I confess I was
+nervous, for the dazzling splendor of the mansion produced in me a
+feeling of awe rather than admiration. I made known my mission as best I
+could; the woman said no such person had ever resided there. In that
+moment of disappointment I felt like casting myself away in despair. The
+associations of Scorpion Cove, of the house of the Nine Nations, of the
+Rookery, of Paddy Pie's--or any other den in that desert of death that
+engulphs the Points, seemed holding out a solace for the melancholy that
+weighed me down. But when I got back into Broadway my resolution gained
+strength, and with it I wept over the folly of my thoughts.
+
+"Led by curiosity, and the air of comfort pervading the well-furnished
+room, and the piously-disposed appearance of the persons who passed in
+and out, I had several times looked in at the house of the 'Foreign
+Missions,' as we used to call it. A man with a good-natured face used to
+sit in the chair, and a wise-looking little man in spectacles (the
+Secretary) used to sit a bit below him, and a dozen or two
+well-disposed persons of both sexes, with sharp and anxious
+countenances, used to sit round in a half circle, listening. The
+wise-looking man in the spectacles would, on motion of some one present,
+read a long report, which was generally made up of a list of donations
+and expenditures for getting up a scheme to evangelize the world, and
+get Mr. Singleton Spyke off to Antioch. It seemed to me as if a deal of
+time and money was expended on Mr. Singleton Spyke, and yet Mr. Spyke
+never got off to Antioch. When the man of the spectacles got through
+reading the long paper, and the good-natured man in the chair got
+through explaining that the heavy amount of twenty-odd thousand dollars
+had been judiciously expended for the salary of officers of the society,
+and the getting Brothers Spurn and Witherspoon off to enlighten the
+heathen, Brother Singleton Spyke's mission would come up. Every one
+agreed that there ought to be no delay in getting Brother Spyke off to
+Antioch; but a small deficiency always stood in the way. And Brother
+Spyke seemed spiked to this deficiency; for notwithstanding Mrs. Slocum,
+who was reckoned the strongest-minded woman, and best business-man of
+the society, always made speeches in favor of Brother Spyke and his
+mission (a special one), he never got off to Antioch.
+
+"Feeling forlorn, smarting under disappointment, and undecided where to
+go after I left the house in Mercer street, I looked in at the house of
+the 'Foreign Missions.' Mrs. Slocum, as I had many times before seen
+her, was warmly contesting a question concerning Brother Spyke, with the
+good-natured man in the chair. It was wrong, she said, so much money
+should be expended, and Brother Spyke not got off to Antioch. So leaving
+them debating Mr. Spyke's mission to Antioch, I proceeded back to the
+house in Mercer street, and inquired for the landlady of the house. The
+landlady, the woman that opened the door said, was engaged. The door was
+shut in my face, and I turned away more wounded in my feelings than
+before. Day and night I contemplated some plan by which to ascertain
+Anna's place of abode, her pursuit in life, her wants. When we parted
+she could neither write nor read: I had taken writing lessons, by which
+I could communicate tolerably well, while my occupation afforded me the
+means of improvement. A few weeks passed (I continued to watch the
+house), and I recognized her one afternoon, by her black, floating hair,
+sitting at a second-story window of the house in Mercer street, her back
+toward me. The sight was like electricity on my feelings; a transport of
+joy bore away my thoughts. I gazed, and continued to gaze upon the
+object, throwing, as it were, new passion into my soul. But it turned,
+and there was a changed face, a face more lovely, looking eagerly into a
+book. Looking eagerly into a book did not betray one who could not read.
+But there was that in my heart that prompted me to look on the favorable
+side of the doubt--to try a different expedient in gaining admittance to
+the house. When night came, I assumed a dress those who look on
+mechanics as vulgar people, would have said became a gentleman; and
+approaching the house, gained easy admittance. As I was about entering
+the great parlors, a familiar but somewhat changed voice at the top of
+the circling stairs that led from the hall caught my ear. I paused,
+listened, became entranced with suspense. Again it resounded--again my
+heart throbbed with joy. It was Anna's voice, so soft and musical. The
+woman who opened the door turned from me, and attempted to hush it. But
+Anna seemed indifferent to the admonition, for she tripped buoyantly
+down stairs, accompanying a gentleman to the door. I stood before her, a
+changed person. Her recognition of me was instantaneous. Her color
+changed, her lips quivered, her eyes filled with tears, her very soul
+seemed fired with emotions she had no power to resist. 'George
+Mullholland!' she exclaimed, throwing her arms about my neck, kissing
+me, and burying her head in my bosom, and giving vent to her feelings in
+tears and quickened sobs--'how I have thought of you, watched for you,
+and hoped for the day when we would meet again and be happy. Oh, George!
+George! how changed everything seems since we parted! It seems a long
+age, and yet our sufferings, and the fondness for each other that was
+created in that suffering, freshens in the mind. Dear, good George--my
+protector!' she continued, clinging to me convulsively. I took her in my
+arms (the scene created no little excitement in the house) and bore her
+away to her chamber, which was chastely furnished, displaying a correct
+taste, and otherwise suited to a princess. Having gained her presence of
+mind, and become calm, she commenced relating what had occurred since we
+parted at Scorpion Cove. I need not relate it at length here, for it was
+similar in character to what might be told by a thousand others if they
+were not powerless. For months she had been confined to the house, her
+love of dress indulged to the furthest extent, her mind polluted and
+initiated into the mysteries of refined licentiousness, her personal
+appearance scrupulously regarded, and made to serve the object of which
+she was a victim in the hands of the hostess, who made her the worse
+than slave to a banker of great respectability in Wall street. This
+good man and father was well down in the vale of years, had a mansion on
+Fifth Avenue, and an interesting and much-beloved family. He was, in
+addition, a prominent member of the commercial community; but his
+example to those more ready to imitate the errors of men in high
+positions, than to improve by the examples of the virtuous poor, was not
+what it should be. Though a child of neglect, and schooled to
+licentiousness under the very eye of a generous community, her natural
+sensibility recoiled at the thought that she was a mere object of prey
+to the passions of one she could not love.
+
+"She resolved to remain in this condition no longer, and escaped to
+Savannah with a young man whose acquaintance she had made at the house
+in Mercer street. For a time they lived at a respectable hotel, as
+husband and wife. But her antecedents got out, and they got notice to
+leave. The same fate met them in Charleston, to which city they removed.
+Her antecedents seemed to follow her wherever she went, like haunting
+spirits seeking her betrayal. She was homeless; and without a home there
+was nothing open to her but that vortex of licentiousness the world
+seemed pointing her to. Back she went to the house in Mercer street--was
+glad to get back; was at least free from the finger of scorn.
+Henceforward she associated with various friends, who sought her because
+of her transcendent charms. She had cultivated a natural intelligence,
+and her manners were such as might have become one in better society.
+But her heart's desire was to leave the house. I took her from it; and
+for a time I was happy to find that the contaminating weeds of vice had
+not overgrown the more sensitive buds of virtue.
+
+"I provided a small tenement in Centre street, such as my means would
+afford, and we started in the world, resolved to live respectably. But
+what had maintained me respectably was now found inadequate to the
+support of us both. Life in a house of sumptuous vice had rendered Anna
+incapable of adapting herself to the extreme of economy now forced upon
+us. Anna was taken sick; I was compelled to neglect my work, and was
+discharged. Discontent, embarrassment, and poverty resulted. I struggled
+to live for six months; but my prospects, my hopes of gaining an honest
+living, were gone. I had no money to join the society, and the trade
+being dull, could get nothing to do. Fate seemed driving us to the last
+stage of distress. One by one our few pieces of furniture, our clothing,
+and the few bits of jewelry Anna had presented her at the house in
+Mercer street, found their way to the sign of the Three Martyrs. The man
+of the eagle face would always lend something on them, and that
+something relieved us for the time. I many times thought, as I passed
+the house of the Foreign Missions in Centre street, where there was such
+an air of comfort, that if Mrs. Abijah Slocum, and the good-natured man
+who sat in the chair, and the wise little man in the spectacles, would
+condescend to look in at our little place, and instead of always talking
+about getting Mr. Singleton Spyke off to Antioch, take pity on our
+destitution, what a relief it would be. It would have made more hearts
+happy than Mr. Spyke, notwithstanding the high end of his mission, could
+have softened in ten years at Antioch.
+
+"Necessity, not inclination, forced Anna back into the house in Mercer
+street, when I became her friend, her transient protector. Her hand was
+as ready to bestow as her heart was warm and generous. She gave me
+money, and was kind to me; but the degraded character of my position
+caused me to despond, to yield myself a victim to insidious vice, to
+become the associate of men whose only occupation was that of gambling
+and 'roping-in' unsuspecting persons. I was not long in becoming an
+efficient in the arts these men practiced on the unwary. We used to meet
+at the 'Subterranean,' in Church street, and there concoct our mode of
+operations. And from this centre went forth, daily, men who lived by
+gambling, larceny, picking pockets, counterfeiting, and passing
+counterfeit money. I kept Anna ignorant of my associations. Nevertheless
+I was forced to get money, for I found her affections becoming
+perverted. At times her manner towards me was cold, and I sought to
+change it with money.
+
+"While thus pursuing a life so precarious and exciting, I used to look
+in at the 'Empire,' in Broadway, to see whom I could 'spot,' as we
+called it at the 'Subterranean.' And it was here I met poor Tom Swiggs,
+distracted and giving himself up to drink, in the fruitless search after
+the girl of his love, from whom he had been separated, as he said, by
+his mother. He had loved the girl, and the girl returned his love with
+all the sincerity and ardor of her soul. But she was poor, and of poor
+parents. And as such people were reckoned nothing in Charleston, his
+mother locked him up in jail, and she was got out of the way. Tom opened
+his heart to me, said foul means had been resorted to, and the girl had
+thrown herself away, because, while he was held in close confinement,
+falsehoods had been used to make her believe he had abandoned her. To
+have her an outcast on his account, to have her leading the life of an
+abandoned woman, and that with the more galling belief that he had
+forsaken her, was more than he could bear, and he was sinking under the
+burden. Instead of making him an object of my criminal profession, his
+story so touched my feelings that I became his protector, saw him to his
+lodgings in Green street, and ultimately got him on board a vessel bound
+to Charleston.
+
+"Not many weeks after this, I, being moneyless, was the principal of a
+plot by which nearly a thousand dollars was got of the old man in Wall
+street, who had been Anna's friend; and fearing it might get out, I
+induced her to accompany me to Charleston, where she believed I had a
+prospect of bettering my condition, quitting my uncertain mode of
+living, and becoming a respectable man. Together we put up at the
+Charleston Hotel. But necessity again forced me to reveal to her my
+circumstances, and the real cause of my leaving New York. Her hopes of
+shaking off the taint of her former life seemed blasted; but she bore
+the shock with resignation, and removed with me to the house of Madame
+Flamingo, where we for a time lived privately. But the Judge sought her
+out, followed her with the zeal of a knight, and promised, if she would
+forsake me, to be her protector; to provide for her and maintain her
+like a lady during her life. What progress he has made in carrying out
+his promise you have seen. The English baronet imposed her upon the St.
+Cecilia, and the Judge was the first to betray her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+IN WHICH THE READER IS INTRODUCED TO MR. ABSALOM McARTHUR.
+
+
+You must know, reader, that King street is our Boulevard of fashion; and
+though not the handsomest street in the world, nor the widest, nor the
+best paved, nor the most celebrated for fine edifices, we so cherish its
+age and dignity that we would not for the world change its provincial
+name, or molest one of the hundred old tottering buildings that daily
+threaten a dissolution upon its pavement, or permit a wench of doubtful
+blood to show her head on the "north sidewalk" during promenade hours.
+We are, you see, curiously nice in matters of color, and we should be.
+You may not comprehend the necessity for this scrupulous regard to
+caste; others do not, so you are not to blame for your ignorance of the
+customs of an atmosphere you have only breathed through novels written
+by steam. We don't (and you wouldn't) like to have our wives meet our
+slightly-colored mistresses. And we are sure you would not like to have
+your highly-educated and much-admired daughters meet those cream-colored
+material evidences of your folly--called by Northern "fanatics" their
+half-sisters! You would not! And your wives, like sensible women, as our
+wives and daughters are, would, if by accident they did meet them, never
+let you have a bit of sleep until you sent them to old Graspum's
+flesh-market, had them sold, and the money put safely into their hands.
+We do these things just as you would; and our wives being philosophers,
+and very fashionable withal, put the money so got into fine dresses, and
+a few weeks' stay at some very select watering-place in the North. If
+your wife be very accomplished, (like ours,) and your daughters much
+admired for their beauty, (like ours,) they will do as ours did--put
+wisely the cash got for their detestable relatives into a journey of
+inspection over Europe. So, you see, we keep our fashionable side of
+King street; and woe be to the shady mortal that pollutes its bricks!
+
+Mr. Absalom McArthur lives on the unfashionable side of this street, in
+a one-story wooden building, with a cottage roof, covered with thick,
+black moss, and having two great bow windows, and a very lean door,
+painted black, in front. It is a rummy old house to look at, for the
+great bow windows are always ornamented with old hats, which Mr.
+McArthur makes supply the place of glass; and the house itself,
+notwithstanding it keeps up the dignity of a circular window over the
+door, reminds one of that valiant and very notorious characteristic of
+the State, for it has, during the last twenty or more years, threatened
+(but never done it) to tumble upon the unfashionable pavement, just in
+like manner as the State has threatened (but never done it!) to tumble
+itself out of our unfashionable Union. We are a great people, you see;
+but having the impediment of the Union in the way of displaying our
+might, always stand ready to do what we never intended to do. We speak
+in that same good-natured sense and metaphor used by our politicians,
+(who are become very distinguished in the refined arts of fighting and
+whiskey-drinking,) when they call for a rope to put about the neck of
+every man not sufficiently stupid to acknowledge himself a secessionist.
+We imagine ourselves the gigantic and sublime theatre of chivalry, as we
+have a right to do; we raise up heroes of war and statesmanship,
+compared with whom your Napoleons, Mirabeaus, and Marats--yes, even your
+much-abused Roman orators and Athenian philosophers, sink into mere
+insignificance. Nor are we bad imitators of that art displayed by the
+Roman soldiers, when they entered the Forum and drenched it with
+Senatorial blood! Pardon this digression, reader.
+
+Of a summer morning you will see McArthur, the old Provincialist, as he
+is called, arranging in his great bow windows an innumerable variety of
+antique relics, none but a Mrs. Toodles could conceive a want for--such
+as broken pots, dog-irons, fenders, saws, toasters, stew-pans, old
+muskets, boxing-gloves and foils, and sundry other odds and ends too
+numerous to mention. At evening he sits in his door, a clever picture of
+a by-gone age, on a venerable old sofa, supported on legs tapering into
+feet of lion's paws, and carved in mahogany, all tacked over with
+brass-headed nails. Here the old man sits, and sits, and sits, reading
+the "Heroes of the Revolution," (the only book he ever reads,) and
+seemingly ready at all times to serve the "good wishes" of his
+customers, who he will tell you are of the very first families, and very
+distinguished! He holds distinguished peoples in high esteem; and
+several distinguished persons have no very bad opinion of him, but a
+much better one of his very interesting daughter, whose acquaintance
+(though not a lady, in the Southern acceptation of the term) they would
+not object to making--provided!
+
+His little shop is lumbered with boxes and barrels, all containing
+relics of a by-gone age--such as broken swords, pistols of curious make,
+revolutionary hand-saws, planes, cuirasses, broken spurs, blunderbusses,
+bowie, scalping, and hunting-knives; all of which he declares our great
+men have a use for. Hung on a little post, and over a pair of rather
+suspicious-looking buckskin breeches, is a rusty helmet, which he
+sincerely believes was worn by a knight of the days of William the
+Conqueror. A little counter to the left staggers under a pile of musty
+old books and mustier papers, all containing valuable matter relating to
+the old Continentals, who, as he has it, were all Carolinians. (Dispute
+this, and he will go right into a passion.) Resting like good-natured
+policemen against this weary old counter are two sympathetic old
+coffins, several second-hand crutches, and a quantity of much-neglected
+wooden legs. These Mr. McArthur says are in great demand with our first
+families. No one, except Mr. Soloman Snivel, knows better what the
+chivalry stand in need of to prop up its declining dignity. His dirty
+little shelves, too, are stuffed with those cheap uniforms the State so
+grudgingly voted its unwilling volunteers during the Revolution.[1]
+Tucked in here and there, at sixes and sevens, are the scarlet and blue
+of several suits of cast-off theatrical wardrobe he got of Abbott, and
+now loans for a small trifle to Madame Flamingo and the St. Cecilia
+Society--the first, when she gives her very seductive _balmasques_; the
+second, when distinguished foreigners with titles honor its costume
+balls. As for Revolutionary cocked hats, epaulettes, plumes, and
+holsters, he has enough to supply and send off, feeling as proud as
+peacocks, every General and Colonel in the State--and their name, as
+you ought to know, reader, is legion.
+
+[Footnote 1: See Senator Sumner's speech in Congress on Plantation
+manners.]
+
+The stranger might, indeed, be deceived into the belief that Absalom
+McArthur's curiosity shop was capable of furnishing accoutrements for
+that noble little army, (standing army we call it!) on which the State
+prides itself not a little, and spends no end of money. For ourselves,
+(if the reader but permit us,) we have long admired this little Spartan
+force, saying all the good things of it our prosy brain could invent,
+and in the kindest manner recommending its uniform good character as a
+model for our very respectable society to fashion after. Indeed, we
+have, in the very best nature of a modern historian, endeavored to
+enlighten the barbarian world outside of South Carolina as to the
+terrible consequences which might accrue to the Union did this noble
+little army assume any other than a standing character. Now that General
+Jackson is out of the way, and our plebeian friends over the Savannah,
+whom we hold in high esteem, (the Georgians,) kindly consent to let us
+go our own road out of the Union, nothing can be more grateful than to
+find our wise politicians sincerely believing that when this standing
+army, of which other States know so little, shall have become allied
+with those mighty men of Beaufort, dire consequences to this young but
+very respectable Federal compact will be the result. Having discharged
+the duties of a historian, for the benefit of those benighted beings
+unfortunate enough to live out of our small but highly-civilized State,
+we must return to McArthur.
+
+He is a little old-maidish about his age, which for the last twenty
+years has not got a day more than fifty-four. Being as sensitive of his
+veracity as the State is of its dignity, we would not, either by
+implication or otherwise, lay an impeachment at his door, but rather
+charge the discrepancy to that sin (a treacherous memory) the legal
+gentry find so convenient for their purposes when they knock down their
+own positions. McArthur stood five feet eight exactly, when young, but
+age has made him lean of person, and somewhat bent. His face is long and
+corrugated; his expression of countenance singularly serious. A nose,
+neither aquiline nor Grecian, but large enough, and long enough, and red
+enough at the end, to make both; a sharp and curiously-projecting chin,
+that threatens a meeting, at no very distant day, with his nasal organ;
+two small, watchful blue eyes deep-set under narrow arches, fringed with
+long gray lashes; a deeply-furrowed, but straight and contracted
+forehead, and a shaggy red wig, poised upon the crown of his head, and,
+reader, if you except the constant working of a heavy, drooping lower
+lip, and the diagonal sight with which his eyes are favored, you have
+his most prominent features. Fashion he holds in utter contempt, nor has
+he the very best opinion in the world of our fashionable tailors, who
+are grown so rich that they hold mortgages on the very best plantations
+in the State, and offer themselves candidates for the Governorship.
+Indeed, Mr. McArthur says, one of these knights of the goose, not long
+since, had the pertinacity to imagine himself a great General. And to
+show his tenacious adherence to the examples set by the State, he
+dresses exactly as his grandfather's great-grandfather used to, in a
+blue coat, with small brass buttons, a narrow crimpy collar, and tails
+long enough and sharp enough for a clipper-ship's run. The periods when
+he provided himself with new suits are so far apart that they formed
+special episodes in his history; nevertheless there is always an air of
+neatness about him, and he will spend much time arranging a dingy
+ruffled shirt, a pair of gray trowsers, a black velvet waistcoat, cut in
+the Elizabethan style, and a high, square shirt collar, into which his
+head has the appearance of being jammed. This collar he ties with a
+much-valued red and yellow Spittlefields, the ends of which flow over
+his ruffle. Although the old man would not bring much at the
+man-shambles, we set a great deal of store by him, and would not
+exchange him for anything in the world but a regiment or two of heroic
+secessionists. Indeed we are fully aware that nothing like him exists
+beyond the highly perfumed atmosphere of our State. And to many other
+curious accomplishments the old man adds that of telling fortunes. The
+negroes seriously believe he has a private arrangement with the devil,
+of whom he gets his wisdom, and the secret of propitiating the gods.
+
+Two days have passed since the _emeute_ at the house of the old hostess.
+McArthur has promised the young missionary a place for Tom Swiggs, when
+he gets out of prison (but no one but his mother seems to have a right
+to let him out), and the tall figure of Mister Snivel is seen entering
+the little curiosity shop. "I say!--my old hero, has she been here yet?"
+inquires Mr. Snivel, the accommodation man. "Nay, good friend," returns
+the old man, rising from his sofa, and returning the salutation, "she
+has not yet darkened the door." The old man draws the steel-bowed
+spectacles from his face, and watches with a patriarchal air any change
+that comes over the accommodation man's countenance. "Now, good friend,
+if I did but know the plot," pursues the old man.
+
+"The plot you are not to know! I gave you her history yesterday--that
+is, as far as I know it. You must make up the rest. You know how to tell
+fortunes, old boy. I need not instruct you. Mind you flatter her beauty,
+though--extend on the kindness of the Judge, and be sure you get it in
+that it was me who betrayed her at the St. Cecelia. All right old boy,
+eh?" and shaking McArthur by the hand warmly, he takes his departure,
+bowing himself into the street. The old man says he will be all ready
+when she comes.
+
+Scarcely has the accommodation man passed out of sight when a
+sallow-faced stripling makes his appearance, and with that
+characteristic effrontery for borrowing and never returning, of the
+property-man of a country theatre, "desires" to know if Mr. McArthur
+will lend him a skull.
+
+"A skull!" ejaculates the old man, his bony fingers wandering to his
+melancholy lip--"a skull!" and he fusses studiously round the little
+cell-like place, looking distrustfully at the property-man, and then
+turning an anxious eye towards his piles of rubbish, as if fearing some
+plot is on foot to remove them to the infernal regions.
+
+"You see," interrupts Mr. Property, "we play Hamlet to-night--expect a
+crammed house--and our star, being scrupulous of his reputation, as all
+small stars are, won't go on for the scene of the grave-digger, without
+two skulls--he swears he won't! He raised the very roof of the theatre
+this morning, because his name wasn't in bigger type on the bill. And if
+we don't give him two skulls and plenty of bones to-night, he
+swears--and such swearing as it is!--he'll forfeit the manager, have the
+house closed, and come out with a card to the public in the morning. We
+are in a fix, you see! The janitor only has one, and he lent us that as
+if he didn't want to."
+
+Mr. McArthur says he sees, and with an air of regained wisdom stops
+suddenly, and takes from a shelf a dingy old board, on which is a
+dingier paper, bearing curious inscriptions, no one but the old man
+himself would have supposed to be a schedule of stock in trade. Such it
+is, nevertheless. He rubs his spectacles, places them methodically upon
+his face, wipes and wipes the old board with his elbow. "It's here if
+it's anywhere!" says the old man, with a sigh. "It comes into my head
+that among the rest of my valuables I've Yorick's skull."
+
+"The very skull we want!" interrupts Property. And the old man quickens
+the working of his lower jaw, and continues to rub at the board until he
+has brought out the written mystery. "My ancestors were great people,"
+he mumbles to himself, "great people!" He runs the crusty forefinger of
+his right hand up and down the board, adding, "and my customers are all
+of the first families, which is some consolation in one's poverty. Ah! I
+have it here!" he exclaims, with childlike exultation, frisking his
+fingers over the board. "One Yorick's skull--a time-worn, tenantless,
+and valuable relic, in which graveyard worms have banqueted more than
+once. Yes, young man, presented to my ancestors by the elder Stuarts,
+and on that account worth seven skulls, or more." "One Yorick's skull,"
+is written on the paper, upon which the old man presses firmly his
+finger. Then turning to an old box standing in the little fireplace
+behind the counter, saying, "it's in here--as my name's Absalom
+McArthur, it is," he opens the lid, and draws forth several old military
+coats (they have seen revolutionary days! he says, exultingly), numerous
+scales of brass, such as are worn on British soldiers' hats, a ponderous
+chapeau and epaulets, worn, he insists, by Lord Nelson at the renowned
+battle of Trafalgar. He has not opened, he adds, this box for more than
+twelve long years. Next he drags forth a military cloak of great weight
+and dimensions. "Ah!" he exclaims, with nervous joy, "here's the
+identical cloak worn by Lord Cornwallis--how my ancestors used to prize
+it." And as he unrolls its great folds there falls upon the floor, to
+his great surprise, an old buff-colored silk dress, tied firmly with a
+narrow, green ribbon. "Maria! Maria! Maria!" shouts the old man, as if
+suddenly seized with a spasm. And his little gray eyes flash with
+excitement, as he says--"if here hasn't come to light at last, poor Mag
+Munday's dress. God forgive the poor wretch, she's dead and gone, no
+doubt." In response to the name of "Maria" there protrudes from a little
+door that opens into a passage leading to a back-room, the delicate
+figure of a female, with a face of great paleness, overcast by a
+thoughtful expression. She has a finely-developed head, intelligent blue
+eyes, light auburn hair, and features more interesting than regular.
+Indeed, there is more to admire in the peculiar modesty of her demeanor
+than in the regularity of her features, as we shall show. "My daughter!"
+says the old man, as she nervously advances, her pale hand extended.
+"Poor woman! how she would mourn about this old dress; and say it
+contained something that might give her a chance in the world," she
+rather whispers than speaks, disclosing two rows of small white teeth.
+She takes from the old man's hand the package, and disappears. The
+anxiety she evinces over the charge discloses the fact that there is
+something of deep interest connected with it.
+
+Mr. McArthur was about to relate how he came by this seemingly
+worthless old package, when the property-man, becoming somewhat
+restless, and not holding in over high respect the old man's rubbish, as
+he called it in his thoughts, commences drawing forth, piece after piece
+of the old relics. The old man will not allow this. "There, young man!"
+he says, touching him on the elbow, and resuming his labor. At length he
+draws forth the dust-tenanted skull, coated on the outer surface with
+greasy mould. "There!" he says, with an unrestrained exclamation of joy,
+holding up the wasting bone, "this was in its time poor Yorick's skull.
+It was such a skull, when Yorick lived! Beneath this filthy remnant of
+past greatness (I always think of greatness when I turn to the past),
+this empty tenement, once the domain of wisdom, this poor bone, what
+thoughts did not come out?" And the old man shakes his head, mutters
+inarticulately, and weeps with the simplicity of a child.
+
+"The Star'll have skulls and bones enough to make up for his want of
+talent now--I reckon," interposes the property-man. "But!--I say,
+mister, this skull couldn't a bin old Yorick's, you know--"
+
+"Yorick's!--why not?" interrupts the old man.
+
+"Because Yorick--Yorick was the King's jester, you see--no nigger; and
+no one would think of importing anything but a nigger's skull into
+Charleston--"
+
+"Young man!--if this skull had consciousness; if this had a tongue it
+would rebuke thee;" the old man retorts hastily, "for my ancestors knew
+Yorick, and Yorick kept up an intimate acquaintance with the ancestors
+of the very first families in this State, who were not shoemakers and
+milliners, as hath been maliciously charged, but good and pious
+Huguenots." To the end that he may convince the unbelieving Thespian of
+the truth of his assertion, he commences to rub away the black coating
+with the sleeve of his coat, and there, to his infinite delight, is
+written, across the crown, in letters of red that stand out as bold as
+the State's chivalry--"Alas! poor Yorick." Tears of sympathy trickle
+down the old man's cheeks, his eyes sparkle with excitement, and with
+womanly accents he mutters: "the days of poetry and chivalry are gone.
+It is but a space of time since this good man's wit made Kings and
+Princes laugh with joy."
+
+This skull, and a coral pin, which he said was presented to his
+ancestors by Lord Cornwallis, who they captured, now became his hobby;
+and he referred to it in all his conversation, and made them as much his
+idol as our politicians do secession. In this instance, he dare not
+entrust his newly-discovered jewel to the vulgar hands of Mr. Property,
+but pledged his honor--a ware the State deals largely in notwithstanding
+it has become exceedingly cheap--it would be forthcoming at the
+requisite time.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+IN WHICH ARE MATTERS THE READER MAY HAVE ANTICIPATED.
+
+
+Mr. Soloman Snivel has effected a reconciliation between old Judge
+Sleepyhorn and the beautiful Anna Bonard, and he has flattered the
+weak-minded George Mullholland into a belief that the old Judge, as he
+styles him, is his very best friend. So matters go on swimmingly at the
+house of Madame Flamingo. Indeed Mr. Soloman can make himself extremely
+useful in any affair requiring the exercise of nice diplomatic skill--no
+matter whether it be of love or law. He gets people into debt, and out
+of debt; into bankruptcy and out of bankruptcy; into jail and out of
+jail; into society and out of society. He has officiated in almost every
+capacity but that of a sexton. If you want money, Mr. Soloman can always
+arrange the little matter for you. If you have old negroes you want to
+get off your hands at a low figure, he has a customer. If you want to
+mortgage your negro property, a thing not uncommon with our very first
+families, Mr. Soloman is your man. Are you worth a fee, and want legal
+advice, he will give it exactly to your liking. Indeed, he will lie you
+into the most hopeless suit, and with equal pertinacity lie you out of
+the very best. Every judge is his friend and most intimate acquaintance.
+He is always rollicking, frisking, and insinuating himself into
+something, affects to be the most liberal sort of a companion, never
+refuses to drink when invited, but never invites any one unless he has a
+motive beyond friendship. Mr. Keepum, the wealthy lottery broker, who
+lives over the way, in Broad street, in the house with the mysterious
+signs, is his money-man. This Keepum, the man with the sharp visage and
+guilty countenance, has an excellent standing in society, having got it
+as the reward of killing two men. Neither of these deeds of heroism,
+however, were the result of a duel. Between these worthies there exists
+relations mutually profitable, if not the most honorable. And
+notwithstanding Mr. Soloman is forever sounding Mr. Keepum's generosity,
+the said Keepum has a singular faculty for holding with a firm grasp all
+he gets, the extent of his charities being a small mite now and then to
+Mr. Hadger, the very pious agent for the New York Presbyterian Tract
+Society. Mr. Hadger, who by trading in things called negroes, and such
+like wares, has become a man of great means, twice every year badgers
+the community in behalf of this society, and chuckles over what he gets
+of Keepum, as if a knave's money was a sure panacea for the cure of
+souls saved through the medium of those highly respectable tracts the
+society publishes to suit the tastes of the god slavery. Mr. Keepum,
+too, has a very high opinion of this excellent society, as he calls it,
+and never fails to boast of his contributions.
+
+It is night. The serene and bright sky is hung with brighter stars. Our
+little fashionable world has got itself arrayed in its best satin--and
+is in a flutter. Carriages, with servants in snobby coats, beset the
+doors of the theatre. A flashing of silks, satins, brocades, tulle and
+jewelry, distinguished the throng pressing eagerly into the lobbies,
+and seeking with more confusion than grace seats in the dress circle.
+The orchestra has played an overture, and the house presents a lively
+picture of bright-colored robes. Mr. Snivel's handsome figure is seen
+looming out of a private box in the left-hand proceniums, behind the
+curtain of which, and on the opposite side, a mysterious hand every now
+and then frisks, makes a small but prudent opening, and disappears.
+Again it appears, with delicate and chastely-jeweled fingers. Cautiously
+the red curtain moves aside apace, and the dark languishing eyes of a
+female, scanning over the dress-circle, are revealed. She recognizes the
+venerable figure of Judge Sleepyhorn, who has made a companion of George
+Mullholland, and sits at his side in the parquette. Timidly she closes
+the curtain.
+
+In the right-hand procenium box sits, resplendent of jewels and laces,
+and surrounded by her many admirers, the beautiful and very fashionable
+Madame Montford, a woman of singularly regular features, and more than
+ordinary charms. Opinion is somewhat divided on the early history of
+Madame Montford. Some have it one thing, some another. Society is sure
+to slander a woman of transcendent beauty and intellect. There is
+nothing in the world more natural, especially when those charms attract
+fashionable admirers. It is equally true, too, that if you would wipe
+out any little taint that may hang about the skirts of your character
+you must seek the panacea in a distant State, where, with the
+application of a little diplomacy you may become the much sought for
+wonder of a new atmosphere and new friends, as is the case with Madame
+Montford, who rebukes her New York neighbors of the Fifth Avenue (she
+has a princely mansion there), with the fact that in Charleston she is,
+whenever she visits it, the all-absorbing topic with fashionable
+society. For four successive winters Madame Montford has honored the
+elite of Charleston with her presence. The advent of her coming, too,
+has been duly heralded in the morning papers--to the infinite delight of
+the St. Cecilia Society, which never fails to distinguish her arrival
+with a ball. And this ball is sure to be preceded with no end of
+delicately-perfumed cards, and other missives, as full of compliments as
+it is capable of cramming them. There is, notwithstanding all these
+ovations in honor of her coming, a mystery hanging over her periodical
+visits, for the sharp-eyed persist that they have seen her disguised,
+and in suspicious places, making singular inquiries about a woman of the
+name of Mag Munday. And these suspicions have given rise to whisperings,
+and these whisperings have crept into the ears of several very old and
+highly-respectable "first families," which said families have suddenly
+dropped her acquaintance. But what is more noticeable in the features of
+Madame Montford, is the striking similarity between them and Anna
+Bonard's. Her most fervent admirers have noticed it; while strangers
+have not failed to discover it, and to comment upon it. And the girl who
+sits in the box with Mr. Snivel, so cautiously fortifying herself with
+the curtain, is none other than Anna. Mr. Snivel has brought her here as
+an atonement for past injuries.
+
+Just as the curtain is about to rise, Mr. McArthur, true to his word,
+may be seen toddling to the stage door, his treasure carefully tied up
+in a handkerchief. He will deliver it to no one but the manager, and in
+spite of his other duties that functionary is compelled to receive it in
+person. This done, the old man, to the merriment of certain wags who
+delight to speculate on his childlike credulity, takes a seat in the
+parquette, wipes clean his venerable spectacles, and placing them
+methodically over his eyes, forms a unique picture in the foreground of
+the audience. McArthur, with the aid of his glasses, can recognize
+objects at a distance; and as the Hamlet of the night is decidedly
+Teutonic in his appearance and pronunciation, he has no great relish for
+the Star, nor a hand of applause to bestow on his genius. Hamlet, he is
+sure, never articulated with a coarse brogue. So turning from the stage,
+he amuses himself with minutely scanning the faces of the audience, and
+resolving in his mind that something will turn up in the grave-digger's
+scene, of which he is an enthusiastic admirer. It is, indeed, he thinks
+to himself, very doubtful, whether in this wide world the much-abused
+William Shakspeare hath a more ardent admirer of this curious but
+faithful illustration of his genius. Suddenly his attention seems
+riveted on the private box, in which sits the stately figure of Madame
+Montford, flanked in a half-circle by her perfumed and white-gloved
+admirers. "What!" exclaims the old man, in surprise, rubbing and
+replacing his glasses, "if I'm not deceived! Well--I can't be. If there
+isn't the very woman, a little altered, who has several times looked
+into my little place of an evening. Her questions were so curious that I
+couldn't make out what she really wanted (she never bought anything);
+but she always ended with inquiring about poor Mag Munday. People think
+because I have all sorts of things, that I must know about all sorts of
+things. I never could tell her much that satisfied her, for Mag, report
+had it, was carried off by the yellow fever, and nobody ever thought of
+her afterwards. And because I couldn't tell this woman any more, she
+would go away with tears in her eyes." Mr. McArthur whispers to a friend
+on his right, and touches him on the arm, "Pooh! pooh!" returns the man,
+with measured indifference, "that's the reigning belle of the
+season--Madame Montford, the buxom widow, who has been just turned forty
+for some years."
+
+The play proceeds, and soon the old man's attention is drawn from the
+Widow Montford by the near approach to the scene of the grave-digger.
+And as that delineator enters the grave, and commences his tune, the old
+man's anxiety increases.
+
+A twitching and shrugging of the shoulders, discovers Mr. McArthur's
+feelings. The grave-digger, to the great delight of the Star, bespreads
+the stage with a multiplicity of bones. Then he follows them with a
+skull, the appearance of which causes Mr. McArthur to exclaim, "Ah!
+that's my poor Yorick." He rises from his seat, and abstractedly stares
+at the Star, then at the audience. The audience gives out a spontaneous
+burst of applause, which the Teutonic Hamlet is inclined to regard as an
+indignity offered to superior talent. A short pause and his face
+brightens with a smile, the grave-digger shoulders his pick, and with
+the thumb of his right hand to his nasal organ, throws himself into a
+comical attitude. The audience roar with delight; the Star, ignorant of
+the cause of what he esteems a continued insult, waves his plumes to the
+audience, and with an air of contempt walks off the stage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+MRS. SWIGGS COMES TO THE RESCUE OF THE HOUSE OF THE FOREIGN MISSIONS.
+
+
+"An excellent society--excellent, I assure you, Madame--"
+
+"Truly, Mr. Hadger," interrupted Mrs. Swiggs, "your labors on behalf of
+this Tract Society will be rewarded in heaven--"
+
+"Dear-a-me," Mr. Hadger returns, ere Mrs. Swiggs can finish her
+sentence, "don't mention such a thing. I assure you it is a labor of
+love."
+
+"Their tracts are so carefully got up. If my poor old negro property
+could only read--(Mrs. Swiggs pauses.) I was going to say--if it wasn't
+for the law (again she pauses), we couldn't prejudice our cause by
+letting our negroes read them--"
+
+"Excuse the interruption," Mr. Hadger says, "but it wouldn't, do,
+notwithstanding (no one can be more liberal than myself on the subject
+of enlightening our negro property!) the Tract Society exhibits such an
+unexceptionable regard to the requirements of our cherished
+institution."
+
+This conversation passes between Mrs. Swiggs and Mr. Hadger, who, as he
+says with great urbanity of manner, just dropped in to announce joyous
+tidings. He has a letter from Sister Abijah Slocum, which came to hand
+this morning, enclosing one delicately enveloped for Sister Swiggs.
+"The Lord is our guide," says Mrs. Swiggs, hastily reaching out her hand
+and receiving the letter. "Heaven will reward her for the interest she
+takes in the heathen world."
+
+"Truly, if she hath not now, she will have there a monument of gold,"
+Mr. Hadger piously pursues, adding a sigh.
+
+"There! there!--my neuralgy; it's all down my left side. I'm not long
+for this world, you see!" Mrs. Swiggs breaks out suddenly, then twitches
+her head and oscillates her chin. And as if some electric current had
+changed the train of her thoughts, she testily seizes hold of her
+Milton, and says: "I have got my Tom up again--yes I have, Mr. Hadger."
+
+Mr. Hadger discovers the sudden flight her thoughts have taken: "I am
+sure," he interposes, "that so long as Sister Slocum remains a member of
+the Tract Society we may continue our patronage."
+
+Mrs. Swiggs is pleased to remind Mr. Hadger, that although her means
+have been exceedingly narrowed down, she has not, for the last ten
+years, failed to give her mite, which she divides between the house of
+the "Foreign Missions," and the "Tract Society."
+
+A nice, smooth-faced man, somewhat clerically dressed, straight and
+portly of person, and most unexceptionable in his morals, is Mr. Hadger.
+A smile of Christian resignation and brotherly love happily ornaments
+his countenance; and then, there is something venerable about his
+nicely-combed gray whiskers, his white cravat, his snowy hair, his mild
+brown eyes, and his pleasing voice. One is almost constrained to receive
+him as the ideal of virtue absolved in sackcloth and ashes. As an
+evidence of our generosity, we regard him an excellent Christian, whose
+life hath been purified with an immense traffic in human----(perhaps
+some good friend will crack our skull for saying it).
+
+In truth (though we never could find a solution in the Bible for it), as
+the traffic in human property increased Mr. Hadger's riches, so also did
+it in a corresponding ratio increase his piety. There is, indeed, a
+singular connection existing between piety and slavery; but to analyze
+it properly requires the mind of a philosopher, so strange is the
+blending.
+
+Brother Hadger takes a sup of ice-water, and commences reading Sister
+Slocum's letter, which runs thus:
+
+   "NEW YORK, May --, 1850.
+"DEAR BROTHER HADGER:
+
+"Justice and Mercy is the motto of the cause we have lent our hands and
+hearts to promote. Only yesterday we had a gathering of kind spirits at
+the Mission House in Centre street, where, thank God, all was peace and
+love. We had, too, an anxious gathering at the 'Tract Society's rooms.'
+There it was not so much peace and love as could have been desired.
+Brother Bight seemed earnest, but said many unwise things; and Brother
+Scratch let out some very unwise indiscretions which you will find in
+the reports I send. There was some excitement, and something said about
+what we got from the South not being of God's chosen earnings. And there
+was something more let off by our indiscreet Brothers against the
+getting up of the tracts. But we had a majority, and voted down our
+indiscreet Brothers, inasmuch as it was shown to be necessary not to
+offend our good friends in the South. Not to give offence to a Brother
+is good in the sight of the Lord, and this Brother Primrose argued in a
+most Christian speech of four long hours or more, and which had the
+effect of convincing every one how necessary it was to free the _tracts_
+of everything offensive to your cherished institution. And though we did
+not, Brother Hadger, break up in the continuance of that love we were
+wont to when you were among us, we sustained the principle that seemeth
+most acceptable to you--we gained the victory over our disaffected
+Brothers. And I am desired on behalf of the Society, to thank you for
+the handsome remittance, hoping you will make it known, through peace
+and love, to those who kindly contributed toward it. The Board of
+'Foreign Missions,' as you will see by the report, also passed a vote of
+thanks for your favor. How grateful to think what one will do to
+enlighten the heathen world, and how many will receive a tract through
+the medium of the other.
+
+"We are now in want of a few thousand dollars, to get the Rev. Singleton
+Spyke, a most excellent person, off to Antioch. Aid us with a mite,
+Brother Hadger, for his mission is one of God's own. The enclosed letter
+is an appeal to Sister Swiggs, whose yearly mites have gone far, very
+far, to aid us in the good but mighty work now to be done. Sister Swiggs
+will have her reward in heaven for these her good gifts. How thankful
+should she be to Him who provides all things, and thus enableth her to
+bestow liberally.
+
+"And now, Brother, I must say adieu! May you continue to live in the
+spirit of Christian love. And may you never feel the want of these mites
+bestowed in the cause of the poor heathen.
+
+   "SISTER ABIJAH SLOCUM."
+
+"May the good be comforted!" ejaculates Mrs. Swiggs, as Mr. Hadger
+concludes. She has listened with absorbed attention to every word, at
+times bowing, and adding a word of approval. Mr. Hadger hopes something
+may be done in this good cause, and having interchanged sundry
+compliments, takes his departure, old Rebecca opening the door.
+
+"Glad he's gone!" the old lady says to herself. "I am so anxious to hear
+the good tidings Sister Slocum's letter conveys." She wipes and wipes
+her venerable spectacles, adjusts them piquantly over her small, wicked
+eyes, gives her elaborate cap-border a twitch forward, frets her finger
+nervously over the letter, and gets herself into a general state of
+confritteration. "There!" she says, entirely forgetting her Milton,
+which has fallen on the floor, to the great satisfaction of the worthy
+old cat, who makes manifest his regard for it by coiling himself down
+beside it, "God bless her. It makes my heart leap with joy when I see
+her writing," she pursues, as old Rebecca stands contemplating her, with
+serious and sullen countenance. Having prilled and fussed over the
+letter, she commences reading in a half whisper:
+
+   "NO. --,4TH AVENUE, NEW YORK,
+   May --, 1850.
+
+"MUCH BELOVED SISTER:
+
+"I am, as you know, always overwhelmed with business; and having hoped
+the Lord in his goodness yet spares you to us, and gives you health and
+bounty wherewith to do good, must be pardoned for my brevity. The Lord
+prospers our missions among the heathen, and the Tract Society continues
+to make its labors known throughout the country. It, as you will see by
+the tracts I send herewith, still continues that scrupulous regard to
+the character of your domestic institution which has hitherto
+characterized it. Nothing is permitted to creep into them that in any
+way relates to your domestics, or that can give pain to the delicate
+sensibilities of your very excellent and generous people. We would do
+good to all without giving pain to any one. Oh! Sister, you know what a
+wicked world this is, and how it becomes us to labor for the good of
+others. But what is this world compared with the darkness of the heathen
+world, and those poor wretches ('Sure enough!' says Mrs. Swiggs) who eat
+one another, never have heard of a God, and prefer rather to worship
+idols of wood and stone. When I contemplate this dreadful darkness,
+which I do night and day, day and night, I invoke the Spirit to give me
+renewed strength to go forward in the good work of bringing from
+darkness ('Just as I feel,' thinks Mrs. Swiggs) unto light those poor
+benighted wretches of the heathen world. How often I have wished you
+could be here with us, to add life and spirit to our cause--to aid us in
+beating down Satan, and when we have got him down not to let him up. The
+heathen world never will be what it should be until Satan is bankrupt,
+deprived of his arts, and chained to the post of humiliation--never! ('I
+wish I had him where my Tom is!' Mrs. Swiggs mutters to herself.) Do
+come on here, Sister. We will give you an excellent reception, and make
+you so happy while you sojourn among us. And now, Sister, having never
+appealed to you in vain, we again extend our hand, hoping you will favor
+the several very excellent projects we now have on hand. First, we have
+a project--a very excellent one, on hand, for evangelizing the world;
+second, in consideration of what has been done in the reign of the
+Seven Churches--Pergamos Thyatira, Magnesia, Cassaba, Demish, and
+Baindir, where all is darkness, we have conceived a mission to Antioch;
+and third, we have been earnestly engaged in, and have spent a few
+thousand dollars over a project of the 'Tract Society,' which is the
+getting up of no less than one or two million of their excellent tracts,
+for the Dahomy field of missionary labor--such as the Egba mission, the
+Yoruba mission, and the Ijebu missions. Oh! Sister, what a field of
+labor is here open to us. And what a source of joy and thankfulness it
+should be to us that we have the means to labor in those fields of
+darkness. We have selected brother Singleton Spyke, a young man of great
+promise, for this all-important mission to Antioch. He has been for the
+last four years growing in grace and wisdom. No expense has been spared
+in everything necessary to his perfection, not even in the selection of
+a partner suited to his prospects and future happiness. We now want a
+few thousand dollars to make up the sum requisite to his mission, and
+pay the expenses of getting him off. Come to our assistance, dear
+Sister--do come! Share with us your mite in this great work of
+enlightening the heathen, and know that your deeds are recorded in
+heaven. ('Verily!' says the old lady.) And now, hoping the Giver of all
+good will continue to favor you with His blessing, and preserve you in
+that strength of intellect with which you have so often assisted us in
+beating down Satan, and hoping either to have the pleasure of seeing
+you, or hearing from you soon, I will say adieu! subscribing myself a
+servant in the cause of the heathen, and your sincere Sister,
+
+   "MRS. ABIJAH SLOCUM.
+
+"P.S.--Remember, dear Sister, that the amount of money expended in
+idol-worship--in erecting monster temples and keeping them in repair,
+would provide comfortable homes and missions for hundreds of our very
+excellent young men and women, who are now ready to buckle on the armor
+and enter the fight against Satan.
+
+   "A.S."
+
+"Dear-a-me," she sighs, laying the letter upon the table, kicking the
+cat as she resumes her rocking, and with her right hand restoring her
+Milton to its accustomed place on the table. "Rebecca," she says, "will
+get a pillow and place it nicely at my back." Rebecca, the old slave,
+brings the pillow. "There, there! now, not too high, nor too low,
+Rebecca!" her thin, sharp voice echoes, as she works her shoulders, and
+permits her long fingers to wander over her cap-border. "When 'um got
+just so missus like, say--da he is!" mumbles the old negress in reply.
+"Well, well--a little that side, now--" The negress moves the pillow a
+little to the left. "That's too much, Rebecca--a slight touch the other
+way. You are so stupid, I will have to sell you, and get Jewel to take
+care of me. I would have done it before but for the noise of her
+crutch--I would, Rebecca! You never think of me--you only think of how
+much hominy you can eat." The old negress makes a motion to move the
+pillow a little to the right, when Mrs. Swiggs settles her head and
+shoulders into it, saying, "there!"
+
+"Glad'um suit--fo'h true!" retorts the negress, her heavy lips and
+sullen face giving out the very incarnation of hatred.
+
+"Now don't make a noise when you go out." Rebecca in reply says she is
+"gwine down to da kitchen to see Isaac," and toddles out of the room,
+gently closing the door after her.
+
+Resignedly Mrs. Swiggs closes her eyes, moderates her rocking, and
+commences evolving and revolving the subject over in her mind. "I
+haven't much of this world's goods--no, I haven't; but I'm of a good
+family, and its name for hospitality must be kept up. Don't see that I
+can keep it up better than by helping Sister Slocum and the _Tract
+Society_ out," she muses. But the exact way to effect this has not yet
+come clear to her mind. Times are rather hard, and, as we have said
+before, she is in straightened circumstances, having, for something more
+than ten years, had nothing but the earnings of eleven old negroes, five
+of whom are cripples, to keep up the dignity of the house of the Swiggs.
+"There's old Zeff," she says, "has took to drinking, and Flame, his
+wife, ain't a bit better; and neither one of them have been worth
+anything since I sold their two children--which I had to do, or let the
+dignity of the family suffer. I don't like to do it, but I must. I must
+send Zeff to the workhouse--have him nicely whipped, I only charge him
+eighteen dollars a month for himself, and yet he will drink, and won't
+pay over his wages. Yes!--he shall have it. The extent of the law, well
+laid on, will learn him a lesson. There's old Cato pays me twenty
+dollars a month, and Cato's seventy-four--four years older than Zeff. In
+truth, my negro property is all getting careless about paying wages. Old
+Trot runs away whenever he can get a chance; Brutus has forever got
+something the matter with him; and Cicero has come to be a real skulk.
+He don't care for the cowhide; the more I get him flogged the worse he
+gets. Curious creature! And his old woman, since she broke her leg, and
+goes with a crutch, thinks she can do just as she pleases. There is
+plenty of work in her--plenty; she has no disposition to let it come
+out, though! And she has kept up a grumbling ever since I sold her
+girls. Well, I didn't want to keep them all the time at the
+whipping-post; so I sold them to save their characters." Thus Mrs.
+Swiggs muses until she drops into a profound sleep, in which she
+remains, dreaming that she has sold old Mumma Molly, Cicero's wife, and
+with the proceeds finds herself in New York, hob-nobbing it with Sister
+Slocum, and making one extensive donation to the Tract Society, and
+another to the fund for getting Brother Singleton Spyke off to Antioch.
+Her arrival in Gotham, she dreams, is a great event. The Tract Society
+(she is its guest) is smothering her with its attentions. Indeed, a
+whole column and a half of the very conservative and highly respectable
+old _Observer_ is taken up with an elaborate and well-written history of
+her many virtues.
+
+The venerable old lady dreams herself into dusky evening, and wakes to
+find old Rebecca summoning her to tea. She is exceedingly sorry the old
+slave disturbed her. However, having great faith in dreams, and the one
+she has just enjoyed bringing the way to aid Sister Slocum in carrying
+out her projects of love so clear to her mind, she is resolved to lose
+no time in carrying out its principles. Selling old Molly won't be much;
+old Molly is not worth much to her; and the price of old Molly (she'll
+bring something!) will do so much to enlighten the heathen, and aid the
+Tract Society in giving out its excellent works. "And I have for years
+longed to see Sister Slocum, face to face, before I die," she says. And
+with an affixed determination to carry out this pious resolve, Mrs.
+Swiggs sips her tea, and retires to her dingy little chamber for the
+night.
+
+A bright and cheerful sun ushers in the following morning. The soft rays
+steal in at the snuffy door, at the dilapidated windows, through the
+faded curtains, and into the "best parlor," where, at an early hour,
+sits the antique old lady, rummaging over some musty old papers piled on
+the centre-table. The pale light plays over and gives to her features a
+spectre-like hue; while the grotesque pieces of furniture by which she
+is surrounded lend their aid in making complete the picture of a
+wizard's abode. The paper she wants is nowhere to be found. "I must
+exercise a little judgment in this affair," she mutters, folding a bit
+of paper, and seizing her pen. Having written--
+
+"TO THE MASTER OF THE WORK-HOUSE:
+
+"I am sorry I have to trouble you so often with old Cicero. He will not
+pay wages all I can do. Give him at least thirty--well laid on. I go to
+New York in a few days, and what is due you from me for punishments will
+be paid any time you send your bill.
+
+   "SARAH PRINGLE HUGHES SWIGGS."
+
+"Well! he deserves what he gets," she shakes her head and ejaculates.
+Having summoned Rebecca, Master Cicero, a hard-featured old negro, is
+ordered up, and comes tottering into the room, half-bent with age, his
+hair silvered, and his face covered with a mossy-white beard--the
+picture of a patriarch carved in ebony. "Good mornin', Missus," he
+speaks in a feeble and husky voice, standing hesitatingly before his
+august owner. "You are--well, I might as well say it--you're a
+miserable old wretch!" Cicero makes a nervous motion with his left hand,
+as the fingers of his right wander over the bald crown of his head, and
+his eyes give out a forlorn look. She has no pity for the poor old
+man--none. "You are, Cicero--you needn't pretend you ain't," she
+pursues; and springing to her feet with an incredible nimbleness, she
+advances to the window, tucks up the old curtain, and says, "There; let
+the light reflect on your face. Badness looks out of it, Cicero! you
+never was a good nigger--"
+
+"Per'aps not, Missus; but den I'se old."
+
+"Old! you ain't so old but you can pay wages," the testy old woman
+interrupts, tossing her head. "You're a capital hand at cunning excuses.
+This will get you done for, at the workhouse." She hands him a
+delicately enveloped and carefully superscribed _billet_, and commands
+him to proceed forthwith to the workhouse. A tear courses slowly down
+his time-wrinkled face, he hesitates, would speak one word in his own
+defence. But the word of his owner is absolute, and in obedience to the
+wave of her hand he totters to the door, and disappears. His tears are
+only those of a slave. How useless fall the tears of him who has no
+voice, no power to assert his manhood! And yet, in that shrunken
+bosom--in that figure, bent and shattered of age, there burns a passion
+for liberty and hatred of the oppressor more terrible than the hand that
+has made him the wretch he is. That tear! how forcibly it tells the tale
+of his sorrowing soul; how eloquently it foretells the downfall of that
+injustice holding him in its fierce chains!
+
+Cicero has been nicely got out of the way. Molly, his wife, is summoned
+into the presence of her mistress, to receive her awful doom. "To be
+frank with you, Molly, and I am always outspoken, you know, I am going
+to sell you. We have been long enough together, and necessity at this
+moment forces me to this conclusion," says our venerable lady,
+addressing herself to the old slave, who stands before her, leaning on
+her crutch, for she is one of the cripples. "You will get a pious owner,
+I trust; and God will be merciful to you."
+
+The old slave of seventy years replies only with an expression of hate
+in her countenance, and a drooping of her heavy lip. "Now," Mrs. Swiggs
+pursues, "take this letter, go straight to Mr. Forcheu with it, and he
+will sell you. He is very kind in selling old people--very!" Molly
+inquires if Cicero may go. Mrs. Swiggs replies that nobody will buy two
+old people together.
+
+The slave of seventy years, knowing her entreaties will be in vain,
+approaches her mistress with the fervency of a child, and grasping
+warmly her hand, stammers out: "Da--da--dah Lord bless um, Missus. Tan't
+many days fo'h we meet in t'oder world--good-bye."
+
+"God bless you--good-bye, Molly. Remember what I have told you so many
+times--long suffering and forbearance make the true Christian. Be a
+Christian--seek to serve your Master faithfully; such the Scripture
+teacheth. Now tie your handkerchief nicely on your head, and get your
+clean apron on, and mind to look good-natured when Mr. Forcheu sells
+you." This admonition, methodically addressed to the old slave, and Mrs.
+Swiggs waves her hand, resumes her Milton, and settles herself back into
+her chair. Reader! if you have a heart in the right place it will be
+needless for us to dwell upon the feelings of that old slave, as she
+drags her infirm body to the shambles of the extremely kind vender of
+people.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+MR. McARTHUR MAKES A DISCOVERY.
+
+
+On his return from the theatre, Mr. McArthur finds his daughter, Maria,
+waiting him in great anxiety. "Father, father!" she says, as he enters
+his little back parlor, "this is what that poor woman, Mag Munday, used
+to take on so about; here it is." She advances, her countenance wearing
+an air of great solicitude, holds the old dress in her left hand, and a
+stained letter in her right. "It fell from a pocket in the bosom," she
+pursues. The old man, with an expression of surprise, takes the letter
+and prepares to read it. He pauses. "Did it come from the dress I
+discovered in the old chest?" he inquires, adjusting his spectacles.
+Maria says it did. She has no doubt it might have relieved her
+suffering, if it had been found before she died. "But, father, was there
+not to you something strange, something mysterious about the manner she
+pursued her search for this old dress? You remember how she used to
+insist that it contained something that might be a fortune to her in her
+distress, and how there was a history connected with it that would not
+reflect much credit on a lady in high life!"
+
+The old man interrupts by saying he well remembers it; remembers how he
+thought she was a maniac to set so much value on the old dress, and make
+so many sighs when it could not be found. "It always occurred to me
+there was something more than the dress that made her take on so," the
+old man concludes, returning the letter to Maria, with a request that
+she will read it. Maria resumes her seat, the old man draws a chair to
+the table, and with his face supported in his left hand listens
+attentively as she reads:
+
+   "WASHINGTON SQUARE, NEW YORK,
+   May 14, 18--
+
+"I am glad to hear from Mr. Sildon that the child does well. Poor little
+thing, it gives me so many unhappy thoughts when I think of it; but I
+know you are a good woman, Mrs. Munday, and will watch her with the care
+of a mother. She was left at our door one night, and as people are
+always too ready to give currency to scandal, my brother and I thought
+that it would not be prudent to adopt it at once, more especially as I
+have been ill for the last few months, and have any quantity of enemies.
+I am going to close my house, now that my deceased husband's estate is
+settled, and spend a few years in Europe. Mr. Thomas Sildon is well
+provided with funds for the care of the child during my absence, and
+will pay you a hundred dollars every quarter. Let no one see this
+letter, not even your husband. And when I return I will give you an
+extra remuneration, and adopt the child as my own. Mr. Sildon will tell
+you where to find me when I return."
+
+   Your friend,
+   "C.A.M."
+
+"There, father," says Maria, "there is something more than we know
+about, connected with this letter. One thing always discovers
+another--don't you think it may have something to do with that lady who
+has two or three times come in here, and always appeared so nervous
+when she inquired about Mag Munday? and you recollect how she would not
+be content until we had told her a thousand different things concerning
+her. She wanted, she said, a clue to her; but she never could get a clue
+to her. There is something more than we know of connected with this
+letter," and she lays the old damp stained and crumpled letter on the
+table, as the old servant enters bearing on a small tray their humble
+supper.
+
+"Now, sit up, my daughter," says the old man, helping her to a sandwich
+while she pours out his dish of tea, "our enjoyment need be none the
+less because our fare is humble. As for satisfying this lady about Mag
+Munday, why, I have given that up. I told her all I knew, and that is,
+that when she first came to Charleston--one never knows what these New
+Yorkers are--she was a dashing sort of woman, had no end of admirers,
+and lived in fine style. Then it got out that she wasn't the wife of the
+man who came with her, but that she was the wife of a poor man of the
+name of Munday, and had quit her husband; as wives will when they take a
+notion in their heads. And as is always the way with these sort of
+people, she kept gradually getting down in the world, and as she kept
+getting more and more down so she took more and more to drink, and drink
+brought on grief, and grief soon wasted her into the grave. I took pity
+on her, for she seemed not a bad woman at heart, and always said she was
+forced by necessity into the house of Madame Flamingo--a house that
+hurries many a poor creature to her ruin. And she seemed possessed of a
+sense of honor not common to these people; and when Madame Flamingo
+turned her into the street,--as she does every one she has succeeded in
+making a wretch of,--and she could find no one to take her in, and had
+nowhere to lay her poor head, as she used to say, I used to lend her
+little amounts, which she always managed somehow to repay. As to there
+being anything valuable in the dress, I never gave it a thought; and
+when she would say if she could have restored to her the dress, and
+manage to get money enough to get to New York, I thought it was only the
+result of her sadness."
+
+"You may remember, father," interrupts Maria, "she twice spoke of a
+child left in her charge; and that the child was got away from her. If
+she could only trace that poor child, she would say, or find out what
+had become of it, she could forget her own sufferings and die easy. But
+the thought of what had become of that child forever haunted her; she
+knew that unless she atoned in some way the devil would surely get her."
+The old man says, setting down his cup, it all comes fresh to his mind.
+Mr. Soloman (he has not a doubt) could let some light upon the subject;
+and, as he seems acquainted with the lady that takes so much interest in
+what became of the woman Munday, he may relieve her search. "I am sure
+she is dead, nevertheless; I say this, knowing that having no home she
+got upon the Neck, and then associated with the negroes; and the last I
+heard of her was that the fever carried her off. This must have been
+true, or else she had been back here pleading for the bundles we could
+not find." Thus saying, Mr. McArthur finishes his humble supper, kisses
+and fondles his daughter, whom he dotingly loves, and retires for the
+night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+WHAT MADAME FLAMINGO WANTS TO BE.
+
+
+Tom Swiggs has enjoyed, to the evident satisfaction of his mother, a
+seven months' residence in the old prison. The very first families
+continue to pay their respects to the good old lady, and she in return
+daily honors them with mementoes of her remembrance. These little
+civilities, exchanging between the stately old lady and our first
+families, indicate the approach of the fashionable season. Indeed, we
+may as well tell you the fashionable season is commencing in right good
+earnest. Our elite are at home, speculations are rife as to what the
+"Jockey Club" will do, we are recounting our adventures at northern
+watering-places, chuckling over our heroism in putting down those who
+were unwise enough to speak disrespectful of our cherished institutions,
+and making very light of what we would do to the whole north. You may
+know, too, that our fashionable season is commenced by what is taking
+place at the house of Madame Flamingo on the one side, and the St.
+Cecilia on the other. We recognize these establishments as institutions.
+That they form the great fortifications of fashionable society, flanking
+it at either extreme, no one here doubts.
+
+We are extremely sensitive of two things--fashion, and our right to sell
+negroes. Without the former we should be at sea; without the latter, our
+existence would indeed be humble. The St. Cecilia Society inaugurates
+the fashionable season, the erudite Editor of the Courier will tell
+you, with an entertainment given to the elite of its members and a few
+very distinguished foreigners. Madame Flamingo opens her forts, at the
+same time, with a grand supper, which she styles a very select
+entertainment, and to which she invites none but "those of the highest
+standing in society." If you would like to see what sort of a supper she
+sets to inaugurate the fashionable season, take our arm for a few
+minutes.
+
+Having just arrived from New York, where she has been luxuriating and
+selecting her wares for the coming season, (New York is the fountain
+ejecting its vice over this Union,) Madame looks hale, hearty, and
+exceedingly cheerful. Nor has she spared any expense to make herself up
+with becoming youthfulness--as the common people have it. She has got
+her a lace cap of the latest fashion, with great broad striped blue and
+red strings; and her dress is of orange-colored brocade, trimmed with
+tulle, and looped with white blossoms. Down the stomacher it is set with
+jewels. Her figure seems more embonpoint than when we last saw her; and
+as she leans on the arm of old Judge Sleepyhorn, forms a striking
+contrast to the slender figure of that singular specimen of judicial
+infirmity. Two great doors are opened, and Madame leads the way into
+what she calls her upper and private parlor, a hall of some fifty feet
+by thirty, in the centre of which a sumptuously decorated table is set
+out. Indeed there is a chasteness and richness about the furniture and
+works of art that decorate this apartment, singularly at variance with
+the bright-colored furniture of the room we have described in a former
+chapter. "Ladies and gentlemen!" ejaculates the old hostess, "imagine
+this a palace, in which you are all welcome. As the legal gentry say
+(she casts a glance at the old Judge), when you have satisfactorily
+imagined that, imagine me a princess, and address me--"
+
+"High ho!" interrupts Mr. Soloman.
+
+"I confess," continues the old woman, her little, light-brown curls
+dangling across her brow, and her face crimsoning, "I would like to be a
+princess."
+
+"You can," rejoins the former speaker, his fingers wandering to his
+chin.
+
+"Well! I have my beadle--beadles, I take, are inseparable from royal
+blood--and my servants in liveries. After all (she tosses her head) what
+can there be in beadles and liveries? Why! the commonest and vulgarest
+people of New York have taken to liveries. If you chance to take an
+elegant drive up the 'Fifth Avenue,' and meet a dashing equipage--say
+with horses terribly caparisoned, a purloined crest on the
+carriage-door, a sallow-faced footman covered up in a green coat, all
+over big brass buttons, stuck up behind, and a whiskey-faced coachman
+half-asleep in a great hammercloth, be sure it belongs to some snob who
+has not a sentence of good English in his head. Yes! perhaps a
+soap-chandler, an oil-dealer, or a candy-maker. Brainless people always
+creep into plush--always! People of taste and learning, like me, only
+are entitled to liveries and crests." This Madame says, inviting her
+guests to take seats at her banquet-table, at the head of which she
+stands, the Judge on her right, Mr. Soloman on her left. Her china is of
+the most elaborate description, embossed and gilt; her plate is of pure
+silver, and massive; she has vases and candelabras of the same metal;
+and her cutlery is of the most costly description. No house in the
+country can boast a more exact taste in their selection. At each plate
+a silver holder stands, bearing a bouquet of delicately-arranged
+flowers. A trellise of choice flowers, interspersed here and there with
+gorgeous bouquets in porcelain vases, range along the centre of the
+table; which presents the appearance of a bed of fresh flowers
+variegated with delicious fruits. Her guests are to her choicer than her
+fruits; her fruits are choicer than her female wares. No entertainment
+of this kind would be complete without Judge Sleepyhorn and Mr. Soloman.
+They countenance vice in its most insidious form--they foster crime;
+without crime their trade would be damaged. The one cultivates, that the
+other may reap the harvest and maintain his office.
+
+"I see," says Mr. Soloman, in reply to the old hostess, "not the
+slightest objection to your being a princess--not the slightest! And, to
+be frank about the matter, I know of no one who would better ornament
+the position."
+
+"Your compliments are too liberally bestowed, Mr. Soloman."
+
+"Not at all! 'Pon my honor, now, there is a chance for you to bring that
+thing about in a very short time. There is Grouski, the Polish exile, a
+prince of pure blood. Grouski is poor, wants to get back to Europe. He
+wants a wife, too. Grouski is a high old fellow--a most celebrated man,
+fought like a hero for the freedom of his country; and though an exile
+here, would be received with all the honors due to a prince in either
+Italy, France or England.
+
+"A very respectable gentleman, no doubt; but a prince of pure blood, Mr.
+Soloman, is rather a scarce article these days."
+
+"Not a bit of it--why there is lots of exiled Princes all over this
+country. They are modest men, you know, like me; and having got it into
+their heads that we don't like royal blood, rather keep the fact of
+their birth to themselves. As for Grouski! why his history is as
+familiar to every American who takes any interest in these things, as is
+the history of poor Kossuth. I only say this, Madame Flamingo, to prove
+to you that Grouski is none of your mock articles. And what is more, I
+have several times heard him speak most enthusiastically of you."
+
+"Of me!" interrupts the old hostess, blushing. "I respect Grouski, and
+the more so for his being a poor prince in exile." Madame orders her
+servants, who are screwed into bright liveries, to bring on some
+sparkling Moselle. This done, and the glasses filled with the sparkling
+beverage, Mr. Soloman rises to propose a toast; although, as he says, it
+is somewhat out of place, two rounds having only succeeded the soup: "I
+propose the health of our generous host, to whom we owe so much for the
+superb manner in which she has catered for our amusement. Here's that we
+may speedily have the pleasure of paying our respects to her as the
+Princess Grouski." Madame Flamingo bows, the toast is drunk with cheers,
+and she begins to think there is something in it after all.
+
+"Make as light of it as you please, ladies and gentlemen--many stranger
+things have come to pass. As for the exile, Grouski, I always esteemed
+him a very excellent gentleman."
+
+"Exactly!" interposes the Judge, tipping his glass, and preparing his
+appetite for the course of game--broiled partridges, rice-birds, and
+grouse--which is being served by the waiters. "No one more worthy," he
+pursues, wiping his sleepy face with his napkin, "of being a princess.
+Education, wealth, and taste, you have; and with Grouski, there is
+nothing to prevent the happy consummation--nothing! I beg to assure
+you," Madame Flamingo makes a most courteous bow, and with an air of
+great dignity condescends to say she hopes gentlemen of the highest
+standing in Charleston have for ten years or more had the strongest
+proofs of her ability to administer the offices of a lady of station.
+"But you know," she pursues, hoping ladies and gentlemen will be kind
+enough to keep their glasses full, "people are become so pious
+now-a-days that they are foolish enough to attach a stigma to our
+business."
+
+"Pooh, pooh!" interrupts the accommodation man, having raised his glass
+in compliment to a painted harlot. "Once in Europe, and under the shadow
+of the wife of Prince Grouski, the past would be wiped out; your money
+would win admirers, while your being a princess would make fashionable
+society your tool. The very atmosphere of princesses is full of taint;
+but it is sunk in the rank, and rather increases courtiers. In France
+your untainted princess would prognosticate the second coming of--,
+well, I will not profane."
+
+"Do not, I beg of you," says Madame, blushing. "I am scrupulously
+opposed to profanity." And then there breaks upon the ear music that
+seems floating from an enchanted chamber, so soft and dulcet does it
+mingle with the coarse laughing and coarser wit of the banqueters. At
+this feast of flowers may be seen the man high in office, the grave
+merchant, the man entrusted with the most important affairs of the
+commonwealth--the sage and the charlatan. Sallow-faced and painted
+women, more undressed than dressed, sit beside them, hale companions.
+Respectable society regards the Judge a fine old gentleman; respectable
+society embraces Mr. Soloman, notwithstanding he carries on a business,
+as we shall show, that brings misery upon hundreds. Twice has he
+received a large vote as candidate for the General Assembly.
+
+A little removed from the old Judge (excellent man) sits Anna Bonard,
+like a jewel among stones less brilliant, George Mullholland on her
+left. Her countenance wears an expression of gentleness, sweet and
+touching. Her silky black hair rolls in wavy folds down her voluptuous
+shoulders, a fresh carnatic flush suffuses her cheeks, her great black
+eyes, so beautifully arched with heavy lashes, flash incessantly, and to
+her bewitching charms is added a pensive smile that now lights up her
+features, then subsides into melancholy.
+
+"What think you of my statuary?" inquired the old hostess, "and my
+antiques? Have I not taste enough for a princess?" How soft the carpet,
+how rich its colors! Those marble mantel-pieces, sculptured in female
+figures, how massive! How elegantly they set off each end of the hall,
+as we shall call this room; and how sturdily they bear up statuettes,
+delicately executed in alabaster and Parian, of Byron, Goethe, Napoleon,
+and Charlemagne--two on each. And there, standing between two Gothic
+windows on the front of the hall, is an antique side-table, of curious
+design. The windows are draped with curtains of rich purple satin, with
+embroidered cornice skirts and heavy tassels. On this antique table, and
+between the undulating curtains, is a marble statue of a female in a
+reclining posture, her right hand supporting her head, her dishevelled
+hair flowing down her shoulder. The features are soft, calm, and almost
+grand. It is simplicity sleeping, Madame Flamingo says. On the opposite
+side of the hall are pedestals of black walnut, with mouldings in gilt,
+on which stand busts of Washington and Lafayette, as if they were
+unwilling spectators of the revelry. A venerable recline, that may have
+had a place in the propylæa, or served to decorate the halls of
+Versailles in the days of Napoleon, has here a place beneath the
+portrait of Jefferson. This humble tribute the old hostess says she pays
+to democracy. And at each end of the hall are double alcoves, over the
+arches of which are great spread eagles, holding in their beaks the
+points of massive maroon-colored drapery that falls over the sides,
+forming brilliant depressions. In these alcoves are groups of figures
+and statuettes, and parts of statuettes, legless and armless, and all
+presenting a rude and mutilated condition. What some of them represented
+it would have puzzled the ancient Greeks to decypher. Madame,
+nevertheless, assures her guests she got them from among the relics of
+Italian and Grecian antiquity. You may do justice to her taste on living
+statuary; but her rude and decrepit wares, like those owned and so much
+valued by our New York patrons of the arts, you may set down as
+belonging to a less antique age of art. And there are chairs inlaid with
+mosaic and pearl, and upholstered with the richest and brightest satin
+damask,--revealing, however, that uncouthness of taste so characteristic
+of your Fifth Avenue aristocrat.
+
+Now cast your eye upward to the ceiling. It is frescoed with themes of a
+barbaric age. The finely-outlined figure of a female adorns the centre.
+Her loins are enveloped in what seems a mist; and in her right hand,
+looking as if it were raised from the groundwork, she holds gracefully
+the bulb of a massive chandelier, from the jets of which a refulgent
+light is reflected upon the flowery banquet table. Madame smilingly says
+it is the Goddess of Love, an exact copy of the one in the temple of
+Jupiter Olympus. Another just opposite, less voluptuous in its outlines,
+she adds, is intended for a copy of the fabled goddess, supposed by the
+ancients to have thrown off her wings to illustrate the uncertainty of
+fortune.
+
+Course follows course, of viands the most delicious, and sumptuously
+served. The wine cup now flows freely, the walls reëcho the coarse jokes
+and coarser laughs of the banqueters, and leaden eyelids, languid faces,
+and reeling brains, mark the closing scene. Such is the gorgeous vice we
+worship, such the revelries we sanction, such the insidious debaucheries
+we shield with the mantle of our laws--laws made for the accommodation
+of the rich, for the punishment only of the poor. And a thousand poor in
+our midst suffer for bread while justice sleeps.
+
+Midnight is upon the banqueters, the music strikes up a last march, the
+staggering company retire to the stifled air of resplendent chambers.
+The old hostess contemplates herself as a princess, and seriously
+believes an alliance with Grouski would not be the strangest thing in
+the world. There is, however, one among the banqueters who seems to have
+something deeper at heart than the transitory offerings on the
+table--one whose countenance at times assumes a thoughtfulness
+singularly at variance with those around her. It is Anna Bonard.
+
+Only to-day did George Mullholland reveal to her the almost hopeless
+condition of poor Tom Swiggs, still confined in the prison, with
+criminals for associates, and starving. She had met Tom when fortune was
+less ruthless; he had twice befriended her while in New York. Moved by
+that sympathy for the suffering which is ever the purest offspring of
+woman's heart, no matter how low her condition, she resolved not to rest
+until she had devised the means of his release. Her influence over the
+subtle-minded old Judge she well knew, nor was she ignorant of the
+relations existing between him and the accommodation man.
+
+On the conclusion of the feast she invites them to her chamber. They are
+not slow to accept the invitation. "Be seated, gentlemen, be seated,"
+she says, preserving a calmness of manner not congenial to the feelings
+of either of her guests. She places chairs for them at the round table,
+upon the marble top of which an inlaid portfolio lies open.
+
+"Rather conventional," stammers Mr. Snivel, touching the Judge
+significantly on the arm, as they take seats. Mr. Snivel is fond of good
+wine, and good wine has so mellowed his constitution that he is obliged
+to seek support for his head in his hands.
+
+"I'd like a little light on this 'ere plot. Peers thar's somethin' a
+foot," responds the Judge.
+
+Anna interposes by saying they shall know quick enough. Placing a pen
+and inkstand on the table, she takes her seat opposite them, and
+commences watching their declining consciousness. "Thar," ejaculates the
+old Judge, his moody face becoming dark and sullen, "let us have the
+wish."
+
+"You owe me an atonement, and you can discharge it by gratifying my
+desire."
+
+"Women," interposes the old Judge, dreamily, "always have wishes to
+gratify. W-o-l, if its teu sign a warrant, hang a nigger, tar and
+feather an abolitionist, ride the British Consul out a town, or send a
+dozen vagrants to the whipping-post--I'm thar. Anything my hand's in
+at!" incoherently mumbles this judicial dignitary.
+
+Mr. Snivel having reminded the Judge that ten o'clock to-morrow morning
+is the time appointed for meeting Splitwood, the "nigger broker," who
+furnishes capital with which they start a new paper for the new party,
+drops away into a refreshing sleep, his head on the marble.
+
+"Grant me, as a favor, an order for the release of poor Tom Swiggs. You
+cannot deny me this, Judge," says Anna, with an arch smile, and pausing
+for a reply.
+
+"Wol, as to that," responds this high functionary, "if I'd power,
+'twouldn't be long afore I'd dew it, though his mother'd turn the town
+upside down; but I hain't no power in the premises. I make it a rule, on
+and off the bench, never to refuse the request of a pretty woman.
+Chivalry, you know."
+
+"For your compliment, Judge, I thank you. The granting my request,
+however, would be more grateful to my feelings."
+
+"It speaks well of your heart, my dear girl; but, you see, I'm only a
+Judge. Mr. Snivel, here, probably committed him ('Snivel! here, wake
+up!' he says, shaking him violently), he commits everybody. Being a
+Justice of the Peace, you see, and justices of the peace being
+everything here, I may prevail on him to grant your request!" pursues
+the Judge, brightening up at the earnest manner in which Anna makes her
+appeal. "Snivel! Snivel!--Justice Snivel, come, wake up. Thar is a call
+for your sarvices." The Judge continues to shake the higher functionary
+violently. Mr. Snivel with a modest snore rouses from his nap, says he
+is always ready to do a bit of a good turn. "If you are, then,"
+interposes the fair girl, "let it be made known now. Grant me an order
+of release for Tom Swiggs. Remember what will be the consequence of a
+refusal!"
+
+"Tom Swiggs! Tom Swiggs!--why I've made a deal of fees of that fellow.
+But, viewing it in either a judicial or philosophical light, he's quite
+as well where he is. They don't give them much to eat in jail I admit,
+but it is a great place for straightening the morals of a rum-head like
+Tom. And he has got down so low that all the justices in the city
+couldn't make him fit for respectable society." Mr. Snivel yawns and
+stretches his arms athwart.
+
+"But you can grant me the order independent of what respectable society
+will do."
+
+Mr. Snivel replies, bowing, a pretty woman is more than a match for the
+whole judiciary. He will make a good amount of fees out of Tom yet; and
+what his testy old mother declines to pay, he will charge to the State,
+as the law gives him a right to do.
+
+"Then I am to understand!" quickly retorts Anna, rising from her chair,
+with an expression of contempt on her countenance, and a satirical curl
+on her lip, "you have no true regard for me then; your friendship is
+that of the knave, who has nothing to give after his ends are served. I
+will leave you!" The Judge takes her gently by the arm; indignantly she
+pushes him from her, as her great black eyes flash with passion, and she
+seeks for the door. Mr. Snivel has placed himself against it, begs she
+will be calm. "Why," he says, "get into a passion at that which was but
+a joke." The Judge touches him on the arm significantly, and whispers
+in his ear, "grant her the order--grant it, for peace sake, Justice
+Snivel."
+
+"Now, if you will tell me why you take so deep an interest in getting
+them fellows out of prison, I will grant the order of release," Mr.
+Snivel says, and with an air of great gallantry leads her back to her
+chair.
+
+"None but friendship for one who served me when he had it in his power."
+
+"I see! I see!" interrupts our gallant justice; "the renewal of an old
+acquaintance; you are to play the part of Don Quixote,--he, the
+mistress. It's well enough there should be a change in the knights, and
+that the stripling who goes about in the garb of the clergy, and has
+been puzzling his wits how to get Tom out of prison for the last six
+months--"
+
+"Your trades never agree;" parenthesises Anna.
+
+"Should yield the lance to you."
+
+"Who better able to wield it in this chivalrous atmosphere? It only
+pains my own feelings to confess myself an abandoned woman; but I have a
+consolation in knowing how powerful an abandoned woman may be in
+Charleston."
+
+An admonition from the old Judge, and Mr. Snivel draws his chair to the
+table, upon which he places his left elbow, rests his head on his hand.
+"This fellow will get out; his mother--I have pledged my honor to keep
+him fast locked up--will find it out, and there'll be a fuss among our
+first families," he whispers. Anna pledges him her honor, a thing she
+never betrays, that the secret of Tom's release shall be a matter of
+strict confidence. And having shook hands over it, Mr. Snivel seizes the
+pen and writes an order of release, commanding the jailer to set at
+liberty one Tom Swiggs, committed as a vagrant upon a justice's warrant,
+&c., &c., &c. "There," says Justice Snivel, "the thing is done--now for
+a kiss;" and the fair girl permits him to kiss her brow. "Me too; the
+bench and the bar!" rejoins the Judge, following the example of his
+junior. And with an air of triumph the victorious girl bears away what
+at this moment she values a prize.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+IN WHICH TOM SWIGGS GAINS HIS LIBERTY, AND WHAT BEFALLS HIM.
+
+
+Anna gives George Mullholland the letter of release, and on the
+succeeding morning he is seen entering at the iron gate of the wall that
+encloses the old prison. "Bread! give me bread," greets his ear as soon
+as he enters the sombre old pile. He walks through the debtors' floor,
+startles as he hears the stifled cry for bread, and contemplates with
+pained feelings the wasting forms and sickly faces that everywhere meet
+his eye. The same piercing cry grates upon his senses as he sallies
+along the damp, narrow aisle of the second floor, lined on both sides
+with small, filthy cells, in which are incarcerated men whose crime is
+that of having committed "assault and battery," and British seamen
+innocent of all crime except that of having a colored skin. If anything
+less than a gentleman commit assault and battery, we punish him with
+imprisonment; we have no law to punish gentlemen who commit such
+offences.
+
+Along the felon's aisle--in the malarious cells where "poor" murderers
+and burglars are chained to die of the poisonous atmosphere, the same
+cry tells its mournful tale. Look into the dark vista of this little
+passage, and you will see the gleaming of flabby arms and shrunken
+hands. Glance into the apertures out of which they protrude so
+appealingly, you will hear the dull clank of chains, see the glare of
+vacant eyes, and shudder at the pale, cadaverous faces of beings
+tortured with starvation. A low, hoarse whisper, asks you for bread; a
+listless countenance quickens at your footfall. Oh! could you but feel
+the emotion that has touched that shrunken form which so despondingly
+waits the coming of a messenger of mercy. That system of cruelty to
+prisoners which so disgraced England during the last century, and which
+for her name she would were erased from her history, we preserve here in
+all its hideousness. The Governor knows nothing, and cares nothing about
+the prison; the Attorney-General never darkens its doors; the public
+scarce give a thought for those within its walls--and to one man, Mr.
+Hardscrabble, is the fate of these wretched beings entrusted. And so
+prone has become the appetite of man to speculate on the misfortunes of
+his fellow-man, that this good man, as we shall call him, tortures thus
+the miserable beings entrusted to his keeping, and makes it a means of
+getting rich. Pardon, reader, this digression.
+
+George, elated with the idea of setting Tom at liberty, found the young
+theologian at the prison, and revealed to him the fact that he had got
+the much-desired order. To the latter this seemed strange--not that such
+a person as George could have succeeded in what he had tried in vain to
+effect, but that there was a mystery about it. It is but justice to say
+that the young theologian had for six months used every exertion in his
+power, without avail, to procure an order of release. He had appealed to
+the Attorney-General, who declared himself powerless, but referred him
+to the Governor. The Governor could take no action in the premises, and
+referred him to the Judge of the Sessions. The Judge of the Sessions
+doubted his capacity to interfere, and advised a petition to the Clerk
+of the Court. The Clerk of the Court, who invariably took it upon
+himself to correct the judge's dictum, decided that the judge could not
+interfere, the case being a committal by a Justice of the Peace, and not
+having been before the sessions. And against these high
+functionaries--the Governor, Attorney-General, Judge of the Sessions,
+and Clerk of the Court, was Mr. Soloman and Mrs. Swiggs all-powerful.
+There was, however, another power superior to all, and that we have
+described in the previous chapter.
+
+Accompanied by the brusque old jailer, George and the young theologian
+make their way to the cell in which Tom is confined.
+
+"Hallo! Tom," exclaims George, as he enters the cell, "boarding at the
+expense of the State yet, eh?" Tom lay stretched on a blanket in one
+corner of the cell, his faithful old friend, the sailor, watching over
+him with the solicitude of a brother. "I don't know how he'd got on if
+it hadn't bin for the old sailor, yonder," says the jailer, pointing to
+Spunyarn, who is crouched down at the great black fireplace, blowing the
+coals under a small pan. "He took to Tom when he first came in, and
+hasn't left him for a day. He'll steal to supply Tom's hunger, and fight
+if a prisoner attempts to impose upon his charge. He has rigged him out,
+you see, with his pea-coat and overalls," continues the man, folding his
+arms.
+
+"I am sorry, Tom--"
+
+"Yes," says Tom, interrupting the young theologian, "I know you are. You
+don't find me to have kept my word; and because I haven't you don't find
+me improved much. I can't get out; and if I can't get out, what's the
+use of my trying to improve? I don't say this because I don't want to
+improve. I have no one living who ought to care for me, but my mother.
+And she has shown what she cares for me."
+
+"Everything is well. (The young theologian takes Tom by the hand.) We
+have got your release. You are a free man, now."
+
+"My release!" exclaims the poor outcast, starting to his feet, "my
+release?"
+
+"Yes," kindly interposes the jailer, "you may go, Tom. Stone walls,
+bolts and chains have no further use for you." The announcement brings
+tears to his eyes; he cannot find words to give utterance to his
+emotions. He drops the young theologian's hand, grasps warmly that of
+George Mullholland, and says, the tears falling fast down his cheeks,
+"now I will be a new man."
+
+"God bless Tom," rejoins the old sailor, who has left the fireplace and
+joined in the excitement of the moment. "I alwas sed there war better
+weather ahead, Tom." He pats him encouragingly on the shoulder, and
+turns to the bystanders, continuing with a childlike frankness: "he's
+alwas complained with himself about breaking his word and honor with
+you, sir--"
+
+The young theologian says the temptation was more than he could
+withstand.
+
+"Yes sir!--that was it. He, poor fellow, wasn't to blame. One brought
+him in a drop, and challenged him; then another brought him in a drop,
+and challenged him; and the vote-cribber would get generous now and
+then, and bring him a drop, saying how he would like to crib him if he
+was only out, on the general election coming on, and make him take a
+drop of what he called election whiskey. And you know, sir, it's hard
+for a body to stand up against all these things, specially when a body's
+bin disappointed in love. It's bin a hard up and down with him. To-day
+he would make a bit of good weather, and to-morrow he'd be all up in a
+hurricane." And the old sailor takes a fresh quid of tobacco, wipes
+Tom's face, gets the brush and fusses over him, and tells him to cheer
+up, now that he has got his clearance.
+
+"Tom would know if his mother ordered it."
+
+"No! she must not know that you are at large," rejoins George.
+
+"Not that I am at large?"
+
+"I have," interposes the young theologian, "provided a place for you. We
+have a home for you, a snug little place at the house of old McArthur--"
+
+"Old McArthur," interpolates Tom, smiling, "I'm not a curiosity."
+
+George Mullholland says he may make love to Maria, that she will once
+more be a sister. Touched by the kindly act on his behalf, Tom replies
+saying she was always kind to him, watched over him when no one else
+would, and sought with tender counsels to effect his reform, to make him
+forget his troubles.
+
+"Thank you!--my heart thanks you more forcibly than my tongue can. I
+feel a man. I won't touch drink again: no I won't. You won't find me
+breaking my honor this time. A sick at heart man, like me, has no power
+to buffet disappointment. I was a wretch, and like a wretch without a
+mother's sympathy, found relief only in drinks--"
+
+"And such drinks!" interposes the old sailor, shrugging his shoulders.
+"Good weather, and a cheer up, now and then, from a friend, would have
+saved him."
+
+Now there appears in the doorway, the stalworth figure of the
+vote-cribber, who, with sullen face, advances mechanically toward Tom,
+pauses and regards him with an air of suspicion. "You are not what you
+ought to be, Tom," he says, doggedly, and turns to the young Missionary.
+"Parson," he continues, "this 'ere pupil of yourn's a hard un. He isn't
+fit for respectable society. Like a sponge, he soaks up all the whiskey
+in jail." The young man turns upon him a look more of pity than scorn,
+while the jailer shakes his head admonishingly. The vote-cribber
+continues insensible to the admonition. He, be it known, is a character
+of no small importance in the political world. Having a sort of sympathy
+for the old jail he views his transient residences therein rather
+necessary than otherwise. As a leading character is necessary to every
+grade of society, so also does he plume himself the aristocrat of the
+prison. Persons committed for any other than offences against the
+election laws, he holds in utter contempt. Indeed, he says with a good
+deal of truth, that as fighting is become the all necessary
+qualification of our Senators and Representatives to Congress, he thinks
+of offering himself for the next vacancy. The only rival he fears is
+"handsome Charley."[2] The accommodations are not what they might be,
+but, being exempt from rent and other items necessary to a prominent
+politician, he accepts them as a matter of economy.
+
+[Footnote 2: An election bully, the ugliest man in Charleston, and the
+deadly foe of Mingle.]
+
+The vote-cribber is sure of being set free on the approach of an
+election. We may as well confess it before the world--he is an
+indispensable adjunct to the creating, of Legislators, Mayors,
+Congressmen, and Governors. Whiskey is not more necessary to the
+reputation of our mob-politicians than are the physical powers of Milman
+Mingle to the success of the party he honors with his services. Nor do
+his friends scruple at consulting him on matters of great importance to
+the State while in his prison sanctuary.
+
+"I'm out to-morrow, parson," he resumes; the massive fingers of his
+right hand wandering into his crispy, red beard, and again over his
+scarred face. "Mayor's election comes off two weeks from
+Friday--couldn't do without me--can knock down any quantity of men--you
+throw a plumper, I take it?" The young Missionary answers in the
+negative by shaking his head, while the kind old sailor continues to
+fuss over and prepare Tom for his departure. "Tom is about to leave us,"
+says the old sailor, by way of diverting the vote-cribber's attention.
+That dignitary, so much esteemed by our fine old statesmen, turns to
+Tom, and inquires if he has a vote.
+
+Tom has a vote, but declares he will not give it to the vote-cribber's
+party. The politician says "p'raps," and draws from his bosom a small
+flask. "Whiskey, Tom," he says,--"no use offering it to parsons, eh? (he
+casts an insinuating look at the parson.) First-chop election whiskey--a
+sup and we're friends until I get you safe under the lock of my crib.
+Our Senators to Congress patronize this largely." The forlorn freeman,
+with a look of contempt for the man who thus upbraids him, dashes the
+drug upon the floor, to the evident chagrin of the politician, who, to
+conceal his feelings, turns to George Mulholland, and mechanically
+inquires if _he_ has a vote. Being answered in the negative, he picks up
+his flask and walks away, saying: "what rubbish!"
+
+Accompanied by his friends and the old sailor, Tom sallies forth into
+the atmosphere of sweet freedom. As the old jailer swings back the outer
+gate, Spunyarn grasps his friend and companion in sorrow warmly by the
+hand, his bronzed face brightens with an air of satisfaction, and like
+pure water gushing from the rude rock his eyes fill with tears. How
+honest, how touching, how pure the friendly lisp--good bye! "Keep up a
+strong heart, Tom,--never mind me. I don't know by what right I'm kept
+here, and starved; but I expect to get out one of these days; and when I
+do you may reckon on me as your friend. Keep the craft in good trim till
+then; don't let the devil get master. Come and see us now and then, and
+above all, never give up the ship during a storm." Tom's emotions are
+too deeply touched. He has no reply to make, but presses in silence the
+hand of the old sailor, takes his departure, and turns to wave him an
+adieu.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+IN WHICH THERE IS AN INTERESTING MEETING.
+
+
+Our very chivalric dealers in human merchandise, like philosophers and
+philanthropists, are composed merely of flesh and blood, while their
+theories are alike influenced by circumstances. Those of the first, we
+(the South) are, at times, too apt to regard as sublimated and refined,
+while we hold the practices of the latter such as divest human nature of
+everything congenial. Nevertheless we can assure our readers that there
+does not exist a class of men who so much pride themselves on their
+chivalry as some of our opulent slave-dealers. Did we want proof to
+sustain what we have said we could not do better than refer to Mr.
+Forsheu, that very excellent gentleman. Mrs. Swiggs held him in high
+esteem, and so far regarded his character for piety and chivalry
+unblemished, that she consigned to him her old slave of seventy
+years--old Molly. Molly must be sold, the New York Tract Society must
+have a mite, and Sister Abijah Slocum's very laudable enterprise of
+getting Brother Singleton Spyke off to Antioch must be encouraged. And
+Mr. Forsheu is very kind to the old people he sells. It would, indeed,
+be difficult for the distant reader to conceive a more striking instance
+of a man, grown rich in a commerce that blunts all the finer qualities
+of our nature, preserving a gentleness, excelled only by his real
+goodness of heart.
+
+When the old slave, leaning on her crutch, stood before Mr. Forsheu, her
+face the very picture of age and starvation, his heart recoiled at the
+thought of selling her in her present condition. He read the letter she
+bore, contemplated her with an air of pity, and turning to Mr. Benbow,
+his methodical book-keeper of twenty years, who had added and subtracted
+through a wilderness of bodies and souls, ordered him to send the
+shrunken old woman into the pen, on feed. Mr. Forsheu prided himself on
+the quality of people sold at his shambles, and would not for the world
+hazard his reputation on old Molly, till she was got in better
+condition. Molly rather liked this, inasmuch as she had been fed on corn
+and prayers exclusively, and more prayers than corn, which is become the
+fashion with our much-reduced first families. For nearly four months she
+enjoyed, much to the discomfiture of her august owner, the comforts of
+Mr. Forsheu's pen. Daily did the anxious old lady study her Milton, and
+dispatch a slave to inquire if her piece of aged property had found a
+purchaser. The polite vender preserved, with uncommon philosophy, his
+temper. He enjoined patience. The condition and age of the property
+were, he said, much in the way of sale. Then Mrs. Swiggs began
+questioning his ability as a merchant. Aspersions of this kind, the
+polite vender of people could not bear with. He was a man of enormous
+wealth, the result of his skill in the sale of people. He was the
+president of an insurance company, a bank director, a commissioner of
+the orphan asylum, and a steward of the jockey club. To his great
+relief, for he began to have serious misgivings about his outlay on old
+Molly, there came along one day an excellent customer. This was no less
+a person than Madame Flamingo. What was singular of this very
+distinguished lady was, that she always had a use for old slaves no one
+else ever thought of. Her yard was full of aged and tottering humanity.
+One cleaned knives, another fetched ice from the ice-house, a third
+blacked boots, a fourth split wood, a fifth carried groceries, and a
+sixth did the marketing. She had a decayed negro for the smallest
+service; and, to her credit be it said, they were as contented and well
+fed a body of tottering age as could be found in old Carolina.
+
+Her knife-cleaning machine having taken it into his head to die one day,
+she would purchase another. Mr Forsheu, with that urbanity we so well
+understand how to appreciate, informed the distinguished lady that he
+had an article exactly suited to her wants. Forthwith, Molly was
+summoned into her presence. Madame Flamingo, moved almost to tears at
+the old slave's appearance, purchased her out of pure sympathy, as we
+call it, and to the great relief of Mr. Forsheu, lost no time in paying
+one hundred and forty dollars down in gold for her. In deference to Mr.
+Hadger, the House of The Foreign Missions, and the very excellent Tract
+Society, of New York, we will not here extend on how the money was got.
+The transaction was purely commercial: why should humanity interpose? We
+hold it strictly legal that institutions created for the purpose of
+enlightening the heathen have no right to ask by what means the money
+constituting their donations is got.
+
+The comforts of Mr. Forsheu's pen,--the hominy, grits, and rest, made
+the old slave quite as reluctant about leaving him as she had before
+been in parting with Lady Swiggs. Albeit, she shook his hand with equal
+earnestness, and lisped "God bless Massa," with a tenderness and
+simplicity so touching, that had not Madame Flamingo been an excellent
+diplomat, reconciling the matter by assuring her that she would get
+enough to eat, and clothes to wear, no few tears would have been shed.
+Madame, in addition to this incentive, intimated that she might attend a
+prayer meeting now and then--perhaps see Cicero. However, Molly could
+easily have forgotten Cicero, inasmuch as she had enjoyed the rare
+felicity of thirteen husbands, all of whom Lady Swiggs had sold when it
+suited her own convenience.
+
+Having made her purchase, Madame very elegantly bid the gallant merchant
+good morning, hoping he would not forget her address, and call round
+when it suited his convenience. Mr. Forsheu, his hat doffed, escorted
+her to her carriage, into the amber-colored lining of which she
+gracefully settled her majestic self, as a slightly-browned gentleman in
+livery closed the bright door, took her order with servile bows, and
+having motioned to the coachman, the carriage rolled away, and was soon
+out of sight. Monsieur Gronski, it may be well to add here, was
+discovered curled up in one corner; he smiled, and extended his hand
+very graciously to Madame as she entered the carriage.
+
+Like a pilgrim in search of some promised land, Molly adjusted her
+crutch, and over the sandy road trudged, with truculent face, to her new
+home, humming to herself "dah-is-a-time-a-comin, den da Lor' he be
+good!!"
+
+On the following morning, Lady Swiggs received her account current, Mr.
+Forsheu being exceedingly prompt in business. There was one hundred and
+twenty-nine days' feed, commissions, advertising, and sundry smaller
+charges, which reduced the net balance to one hundred and three dollars.
+Mrs. Swiggs, with an infatuation kindred to that which finds the State
+blind to its own poverty, stubbornly refused to believe her slaves had
+declined in value. Hence she received the vender's account with surprise
+and dissatisfaction. However, the sale being binding, she gradually
+accommodated her mind to the result, and began evolving the question of
+how to make the amount meet the emergency. She must visit the great city
+of New York; she must see Sister Slocum face to face; Brother Spyke's
+mission must have fifty dollars; how much could she give the Tract
+Society? Here was a dilemma--one which might have excited the sympathy
+of the House of the "Foreign Missions." The dignity of the family, too,
+was at stake. Many sleepless nights did this difficult matter cause the
+august old lady. She thought of selling another cripple! Oh! that would
+not do. Mr. Keepum had a lien on them; Mr. Keepum was a man of
+iron-heart. Suddenly it flashed upon her mind that she had already been
+guilty of a legal wrong in selling old Molly. Mr. Soloman had doubtless
+described her with legal minuteness in the bond of security for the two
+hundred dollars. Her decrepit form; her corrugated face; her heavy lip;
+her crutch, and her piety--everything, in a word, but her starvation,
+had been set down. Well! Mr. Soloman might, she thought, overlook in the
+multiplicity of business so small a discrepancy. She, too, had a large
+circle of distinguished friends. If the worst came to the worst she
+would appeal to them. There, too, was Sir Sunderland Swiggs' portrait,
+very valuable for its age; she might sell the family arms, such things
+being in great demand with the chivalry; her antique furniture, too,
+was highly prized by our first families. Thus Lady Swiggs contemplated
+these mighty relics of past greatness. Our celtic Butlers and Brookses
+never recurred to the blood of their querulous ancestors with more awe
+than did this memorable lady to her decayed relics. Mr. Israel Moses,
+she cherished a hope, would give a large sum for the portrait; the
+family arms he would value at a high figure; the old furniture he would
+esteem a prize. But to Mr. Moses and common sense, neither the blood of
+the Butlers, nor Lady Swiggs' rubbish, were safe to loan money upon. The
+Hebrew gentleman was not so easily beguiled.
+
+The time came when it was necessary to appeal to Mr. Hadger. That
+gentleman held the dignity of the Swiggs family in high esteem, but
+shook his head when he found the respectability of the house the only
+security offered in exchange for a loan. Ah! a thought flashed to her
+relief, the family watch and chain would beguile the Hebrew gentleman.
+With these cherished mementoes of the high old family, (she would under
+no other circumstance have parted with for uncounted gold,) she in time
+seduced Mr. Israel Moses to make a small advance. Duty, stern and
+demanding, called her to New York. Forced to reduce her generosity, she,
+not without a sigh, made up her mind to give only thirty dollars to each
+of the institutions she had made so many sacrifices to serve. And thus,
+with a reduced platform, as our politicians have it, she set about
+preparing for the grand journey. Regards the most distinguished were
+sent to all the first families; the St. Cecilia had notice of her
+intended absence; no end of tea parties were given in honor of the
+event. Apparently happy with herself, with every one but poor Tom, our
+august lady left in the Steamer one day. With a little of that vanity
+the State deals so largely in, Mrs. Swiggs thought every passenger on
+board wondering and staring at her.
+
+While then she voyages and dreams of the grand reception waiting her in
+New York,--of Sister Slocum's smiles, of the good of the heathen world,
+and of those nice evening gatherings she will enjoy with the pious, let
+us, gentle reader, look in at the house of Absalom McArthur.
+
+To-day Tom Swiggs feels himself free, and it is high noon. Downcast of
+countenance he wends his way along the fashionable side of King-street.
+The young theologian is at his side. George Mullholland has gone to the
+house of Madame Flamingo. He will announce the glad news to Anna. The
+old antiquarian dusts his little counter with a stubby broom, places
+various curiosities in the windows, and about the doors, stands
+contemplating them with an air of satisfaction, then proceeds to drive a
+swarm of flies that hover upon the ceiling, into a curiously-arranged
+trap that he has set.
+
+"What!--my young friend, Tom Swiggs!" exclaims the old man, toddling
+toward Tom, and grasping firmly his hand, as he enters the door. "You
+are welcome to my little place, which shall be a home." Tom hangs down
+his head, receives the old man's greeting with shyness. "Your poor
+father and me, Tom, used to sit here many a time. (The old man points to
+an old sofa.) We were friends. He thought much of me, and I had a high
+opinion of him; and so we used to sit for hours, and talk over the deeds
+of the old continentals. Your mother and him didn't get along over-well
+together; she had more dignity than he could well digest: but that is
+neither here nor there."
+
+"I hope, in time," interrupts Tom, "to repay your kindness. I am willing
+to ply myself to work, though it degrades one in the eyes of our
+society."
+
+"As to that," returns the old man, "why, don't mention it. Maria, you
+know, will be a friend to you. Come away now and see her." And taking
+Tom by the hand, (the theologian has withdrawn,) he becomes
+enthusiastic, leads him through the dark, narrow passage into the back
+parlor, where he is met by Maria, and cordially welcomed. "Why, Tom,
+what a change has come over you," she ejaculates, holding his hand, and
+viewing him with the solicitude of a sister, who hastens to embrace a
+brother returned after a long absence. Letting fall his begrimed hand,
+she draws up the old-fashioned rocking chair, and bids him be seated. He
+shakes his head moodily, says he is not so bad as he seems, and hopes
+yet to make himself worthy of her kindness. He has been the associate of
+criminals; he has suffered punishment; he feels himself loathed by
+society; he cannot divest himself of the odium clinging to his garments.
+Fain would he go to some distant clime, and there seek a refuge from the
+odium of felons.
+
+"Let no such thoughts enter your mind, Tom," says the affectionate girl;
+"divest yourself at once of feelings that can only do you injury. You
+have engaged my thoughts during your troubles. Twice I begged your
+mother to honor me with an interview. We were humble people; she
+condescended at last. But she turned a deaf ear to me when I appealed to
+her for your release, merely inquiring if--like that other jade--I had
+become enamored of--" Maria pauses, blushing.
+
+"I would like to see my mother," interposes Tom.
+
+"Had I belonged to our grand society, the case had been different,"
+resumes Maria.
+
+"Truly, Maria," stammers Tom, "had I supposed there was one in the world
+who cared for me, I had been a better man."
+
+"As to that, why we were brought up together, Tom. We knew each other as
+children, and what else but respect could I have for you? One never
+knows how much others think of them, for the--" Maria blushes, checks
+herself, and watches the changes playing over Tom's countenance. She was
+about to say the tongue of love was too often silent.
+
+It must be acknowledged that Maria had, for years, cherished a passion
+for Tom. He, however, like many others of his class, was too stupid to
+discover it. The girl, too, had been overawed by the dignity of his
+mother. Thus, with feelings of pain did she watch the downward course of
+one in whose welfare she took a deep interest.
+
+"Very often those for whom we cherish the fondest affections, are
+coldest in their demeanor towards us," pursues Maria.
+
+"Can she have thought of me so much as to love me?" Tom questions within
+himself; and Maria put an end to the conversation by ringing the bell,
+commanding the old servant to hasten dinner. A plate must be placed at
+the table for Tom.
+
+The antiquarian, having, as he says, left the young people to
+themselves, stands at his counter furbishing up sundry old engravings,
+horse-pistols, pieces of coat-of-mail, and two large scimitars, all of
+which he has piled together in a heap, and beside which lay several
+chapeaus said to have belonged to distinguished Britishers. Mr. Soloman
+suddenly makes his appearance in the little shop, much to Mr. McArthur's
+surprise. "Say--old man! centurion!" he exclaims, in a maudlin laugh,
+"Keepum's in the straps--is, I do declare; Gadsden and he bought a lot
+of niggers--a monster drove of 'em, on shares. He wants that trifle of
+borrowed money--must have it. Can have it back in a few days."
+
+"Bless me," interrupts the old man, confusedly, "but off my little
+things it will be hard to raise it. Times is hard, our people go, like
+geese, to the North. They get rid of all their money there, and their
+fancy--you know that, Mr. Snivel--is abroad, while they have, for home,
+only a love to keep up slavery."
+
+"I thought it would come to that," says Mr. Snivel, facetiously. The
+antiquarian seems bewildered, commences offering excuses that rather
+involve himself deeper, and finally concludes by pleading for a delay.
+Scarce any one would have thought a person of Mr. McArthur's position,
+indebted to Mr. Keepum; but so it was. It is very difficult to tell
+whose negroes are not mortgaged to Mr. Keepum, how many mortgages of
+plantation he has foreclosed, how many high old families he has reduced
+to abject poverty, or how many poor but respectable families he has
+disgraced. He has a reputation for loaning money to parents, that he may
+rob their daughters of that jewel the world refuses to give them back.
+And yet our best society honor him, fawn over him, and bow to him. We so
+worship the god of slavery, that our minds are become debased, and yet
+we seem unconscious of it. Mr. Keepum did not lend money to the old
+antiquarian without a purpose. That purpose, that justice which
+accommodates itself to the popular voice, will aid him in gaining.
+
+Mr. Snivel affects a tone of moderation, whispers in the old man's ear,
+and says: "Mind you tell the fortune of this girl, Bonard, as I have
+directed. Study what I have told you. If she be not the child of Madame
+Montford, then no faith can be put in likenesses. I have got in my
+possession what goes far to strengthen the suspicions now rife
+concerning the fashionable New Yorker."
+
+"There surely is a mystery about this woman, Mr. Snivel, as you say. She
+has so many times looked in here to inquire about Mag Munday, a woman in
+a curious line of life who came here, got down in the world, as they all
+do, and used now and then to get the loan of a trifle from me to keep
+her from starvation." (Mr. Snivel says, in parentheses, he knows all
+about her.)
+
+"Ha! ha! my old boy," says Mr. Snivel, frisking his fingers through his
+light Saxon beard, "I have had this case in hand for some time. It is
+strictly a private matter, nevertheless. They are a bad lot--them New
+Yorkers, who come here to avoid their little delicate affairs. I may yet
+make a good thing out of this, though. As for that fellow, Mullholland,
+I intend getting him the whipping post. He is come to be the associate
+of gentlemen; men high in office shower upon him their favors. It is all
+to propitiate the friendship of Bonard--I know it." Mr. Snivel concludes
+hurriedly, and departs into the street, as our scene changes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+ANNA BONARD SEEKS AN INTERVIEW WITH THE ANTIQUARY.
+
+
+It is night. King street seems in a melancholy mood, the blue arch of
+heaven is bespangled with twinkling stars, the moon has mounted her high
+throne, and her beams, like messengers of love, dance joyously over the
+calm waters of the bay, so serenely skirted with dark woodland. The dull
+tramp of the guardman's horse now breaks the stillness; then the
+measured tread of the heavily-armed patrol, with which the city swarms
+at night, echoes and re-echoes along the narrow streets. A theatre
+reeking with the fumes of whiskey and tobacco; a sombre-looking
+guard-house, bristling with armed men, who usher forth to guard the
+fears of tyranny, or drag in some wretched slave; a dilapidated "Court
+House," at the corner, at which lazy-looking men lounge; a castellated
+"Work House," so grand without, and so full of bleeding hearts within; a
+"Poor House" on crutches, and in which infirm age and poverty die of
+treatment that makes the heart sicken--these are all the public
+buildings we can boast. Like ominous mounds, they seem sleeping in the
+calm and serene night. Ah! we had almost forgotten the sympathetic old
+hospital, with its verandas; the crabbed looking "City Hall," with its
+port holes; and the "Citadel," in which, when our youths have learned to
+fight duels, we learn them how to fight their way out of the Union.
+Duelling is our high art; getting out of the Union is our low. And, too,
+we have, and make no small boast that we have, two or three buildings
+called "Halls." In these our own supper-eating men riot, our soldiers
+drill (soldiering is our presiding genius), and our mob-politicians
+waste their spleen against the North. Unlike Boston, towering all bright
+and vigorous in the atmosphere of freedom, we have no galleries of
+statuary; no conservatories of paintings; no massive edifices of marble,
+dedicated to art and science; no princely school-houses, radiating their
+light of learning over a peace and justice-loving community; no majestic
+exchange, of granite and polished marble, so emblematic of a thrifty
+commerce;--we have no regal "State House" on the lofty hill, no
+glittering colleges everywhere striking the eye. The god of slavery--the
+god we worship, has no use for such temples; public libraries are his
+prison; his civilization is like a dull dead march; he is the enemy of
+his own heart, vitiating and making drear whatever he touches. He wages
+war on art, science, civilization! he trembles at the sight of temples
+reared for the enlightening of the masses. Tyranny is his law, a
+cotton-bag his judgment-seat. But we pride ourselves that we are a
+respectable people--what more would you have us?
+
+The night is chilly without, in the fireplace of the antiquary's back
+parlor there burns a scanty wood fire. Tom has eaten his supper and
+retired to a little closet-like room overhead, where, in bed, he muses
+over what fell from Maria's lips, in their interview. Did she really
+cherish a passion for him? had her solicitude in years past something
+more than friendship in it? what did she mean? He was not one of those
+whose place in a woman's heart could never be supplied. How would an
+alliance with Maria affect his mother's dignity? All these things Tom
+evolves over and over in his mind. In point of position, a mechanic's
+daughter was not far removed from the slave; a mechanic's daughter was
+viewed only as a good object of seduction for some nice young gentleman.
+Antiquarians might get a few bows of planter's sons, the legal gentry,
+and cotton brokers (these make up our aristocracy), but practically no
+one would think of admitting them into decent society. They, of right,
+belong to that vulgar herd that live by labor at which the slave can be
+employed. To be anything in the eyes of good society, you must only live
+upon the earnings of slaves.
+
+"Why," says Tom, "should I consult the dignity of a mother who discards
+me? The love of this lone daughter of the antiquary, this girl who
+strives to know my wants, and to promote my welfare, rises superior to
+all. I will away with such thoughts! I will be a man!" Maria, with eager
+eye and thoughtful countenance, sits at the little antique centre-table,
+reading Longfellow's Evangeline, by the pale light of a candle. A lurid
+glare is shed over the cavern-like place. The reflection plays curiously
+upon the corrugated features of the old man, who, his favorite cat at
+his side, reclines on a stubby little sofa, drawn well up to the fire.
+The poet would not select Maria as his ideal of female loveliness; and
+yet there is a touching modesty in her demeanor, a sweet smile ever
+playing over her countenance, an artlessness in her conversation that
+more than makes up for the want of those charms novel writers are
+pleased to call transcendent. "Father!" she says, pausing, "some one
+knocks at the outer door." The old man starts and listens, then hastens
+to open it. There stands before him the figure of a strange female,
+veiled. "I am glad to find you, old man. Be not suspicious of my coming
+at this hour, for my mission is a strange one." The old man's crooked
+eyes flash, his deep curling lip quivers, his hand vibrates the candle
+he holds before him. "If on a mission to do nobody harm," he responds,
+"then you are welcome." "You will pardon me; I have seen you before. You
+have wished me well," she whispers in a musical voice. Gracefully she
+raises her veil over her Spanish hood, and advances cautiously, as the
+old man closes the door behind her. Then she uncovers her head,
+nervously. The white, jewelled fingers of her right hand, so delicate
+and tapering, wander over and smooth her silky black hair, that falls in
+waves over her Ion-like brow. How exquisite those features just
+revealed; how full of soul those flashing black eyes; her dress, how
+chaste! "They call me Anna Bonard," she speaks, timorously, "you may
+know me?--"
+
+"Oh, I know you well," interrupts the old man, "your beauty has made you
+known. What more would you have?"
+
+"Something that will make me happy. Old man, I am unhappy. Tell me, if
+you have the power, who I am. Am I an orphan, as has been told me; or
+have I parents yet living, affluent, and high in society? Do they seek
+me and cannot find me? Oh! let the fates speak, old man, for this world
+has given me nothing but pain and shame. Am I--" she pauses, her eyes
+wander to the floor, her cheeks crimson, she seizes the old man by the
+hand, and her bosom heaves as if a fierce passion had just been kindled
+within it.
+
+The old man preserves his equanimity, says he has a fortune to tell her.
+Fortunes are best told at midnight. The stars, too, let out their
+secrets more willingly when the night-king rules. He bids her follow
+him, and totters back to the little parlor. With a wise air, he bids her
+be seated on the sofa, saying he never mistakes maidens when they call
+at this hour.
+
+Maria, who rose from the table at the entrance of the stranger, bows,
+shuts her book mechanically, and retires. Can there be another face so
+lovely? she questions within herself, as she pauses to contemplate the
+stranger ere she disappears. The antiquary draws a chair and seats
+himself beside Anna. "Thy life and destiny," he says, fretting his bony
+fingers over the crown of his wig. "Blessed is the will of providence
+that permits us to know the secrets of destiny. Give me your hand, fair
+lady." Like a philosopher in deep study, he wipes and adjusts his
+spectacles, then takes her right hand and commences reading its lines.
+"Your history is an uncommon one--"
+
+"Yes," interrupts the girl, "mine has been a chequered life."
+
+"You have seen sorrow enough, but will see more. You come of good
+parents; but, ah!--there is a mystery shrouding your birth." ("And that
+mystery," interposes the girl, "I want to have explained.") "There will
+come a woman to reclaim you--a woman in high life; but she will come too
+late--" (The girl pales and trembles.) "Yes," pursues the old man,
+looking more studiously at her hand, "she will come too late. You will
+have admirers, and even suitors; but they will only betray you, and in
+the end you will die of trouble. Ah! there is a line that had escaped
+me. You may avert this dark destiny--yes, you may escape the end that
+fate has ordained for you. In neglect you came up, the companion of a
+man you think true to you. But he is not true to you. Watch him, follow
+him--you will yet find him out. Ha! ha! ha! these men are not to be
+trusted, my dear. There is but one man who really loves you. He is an
+old man, a man of station. He is your only true friend. I here see it
+marked." He crosses her hand, and says there can be no mistaking it.
+"With that man, fair girl, you may escape the dark destiny. But, above
+all things, do not treat him coldly. And here I see by the sign that
+Anna Bonard is not your name. The name was given you by a wizard."
+
+"You are right, old man," speaks Anna, raising thoughtfully her great
+black eyes, as the antiquary pauses and watches each change of her
+countenance; "that name was given me by Hag Zogbaum, when I was a child
+in her den, in New York, and when no one cared for me. What my right
+name was has now slipped my memory. I was indeed a wretched child, and
+know little of myself."
+
+"Was it Munday?" inquires the old man. Scarce has he lisped the name
+before she catches it up and repeats it, incoherently, "Munday! Munday!
+Munday!" her eyes flash with anxiety. "Ah, I remember now. I was called
+Anna Munday by Mother Bridges. I lived with her before I got to the den
+of Hag Zogbaum. And Mother Bridges sold apples at a stand at the corner
+of a street, on West street. It seems like a dream to me now. I do not
+want to recall those dark days or my childhood. Have you not some
+revelation to make respecting my parents?" The old man says the signs
+will not aid him further. "On my arm," she pursues, baring her white,
+polished arm, "there is a mark. I know not who imprinted it there. See,
+old man." The old man sees high up on her right arm two hearts and a
+broken anchor, impressed with India ink blue and red. "Yes," repeats the
+antiquary, viewing it studiously, "but it gives out no history. If you
+could remember who put it there." Of that she has no recollection. The
+old man cannot relieve her anxiety, and arranging her hood she bids him
+good night, forces a piece of gold into his hand, and seeks her home,
+disappointed.
+
+The antiquary's predictions were founded on what Mr. Soloman Snivel had
+told him, and that gentleman got what he knew of Anna's history from
+George Mullholland. To this, however, he added what suggestions his
+suspicions gave rise to. The similarity of likeness between Anna and
+Madame Montford was striking; Madame Montford's mysterious searches and
+inquiries for the woman Munday had something of deep import in them. Mag
+Munday's strange disappearance from Charleston, and her previous
+importuning for the old dress left in pawn with McArthur, were not to be
+overlooked. These things taken together, and Mr. Snivel saw a case there
+could be no mistaking. That case became stronger when his fashionable
+friend engaged his services to trace out what had become of the woman
+Mag Munday, and to further ascertain what the girl Anna Bonard knew of
+her own history.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+A SECRET INTERVIEW.
+
+
+While the scene we have related in the foregoing chapter was being
+enacted, there might be seen pacing the great colonnade of the
+Charleston hotel, the tall figure of a man wrapped in a massive talma.
+Heedless of the throng of drinkers gathered in the spacious bar-room,
+making the very air echo with their revelry, he pauses every few
+moments, watches intently up and then down Meeting street, now
+apparently contemplating the twinkling stars, then turning as if
+disappointed, and resuming his sallies. "He will not come to night," he
+mutters, as he pauses at the "Ladies' door," then turns and rings the
+bell. The well-dressed and highly-perfumed servant who guards the door,
+admits him with a scrutinizing eye. "Beg pardon," he says, with a
+mechanical bow. He recognizes the stranger, bows, and motions his hands.
+"Twice," continues the servant, "she has sent a messenger to inquire of
+your coming." The figure in the talma answers with a bow, slips
+something into the hand of the servant, passes softly up the great
+stairs, and is soon lost to sight. In another minute he enters, without
+knocking, a spacious parlor, decorated and furnished most sumptuously.
+"How impatiently I have waited your coming," whispers, cautiously, a
+richly-dressed lady, as she rises from a velvet covered lounge, on which
+she had reclined, and extends her hand to welcome him.
+
+"Madame, your most obedient," returns the man, bowing and holding her
+delicate hand in his. "You have something of importance,--something to
+relieve my mind?" she inquires, watching his lips, trembling, and in
+anxiety. "Nothing definite," he replies, touching her gently on the arm,
+as she begs him to be seated in the great arm-chair. He lays aside his
+talma, places his gloves on the centre-table, which is heaped with an
+infinite variety of delicately-enveloped missives and cards, all
+indicative of her position in fashionable society. "I may say, Madame,
+that I sympathize with you in your anxiety; but as yet I have discovered
+nothing to relieve it." Madame sighs, and draws her chair near him, in
+silence. "That she is the woman you seek I cannot doubt. While on the
+Neck, I penetrated the shanty of one Thompson, a poor mechanic--our
+white mechanics, you see, are very poor, and not much thought of--who
+had known her, given her a shelter, and several times saved her from
+starvation. Then she left the neighborhood and took to living with a
+poor wretch of a shoemaker."
+
+"Poor creature," interrupts Madame Montford, for it is she whom Mr.
+Snivel addresses. "If she be dead--oh, dear! That will be the end. I
+never shall know what became of that child. And to die ignorant of its
+fate will--" Madame pauses, her color changes, she seems seized with
+some violent emotion. Mr. Snivel perceives her agitation, and begs she
+will remain calm. "If that child had been my own," she resumes, "the
+responsibility had not weighed heavier on my conscience. Wealth,
+position, the pleasures of society--all sink into insignificance when
+compared with my anxiety for the fate of that child. It is like an arrow
+piercing my heart, like a phantom haunting me in my dreams, like an
+evil spirit waking me at night to tell me I shall die an unhappy woman
+for having neglected one I was bound by the commands of God to
+protect--to save, perhaps, from a life of shame." She lets fall the
+satin folds of her dress, buries her face in her hands, and gives vent
+to her tears in loud sobs. Mr. Snivel contemplates her agitation with
+unmoved muscle. To him it is a true index to the sequel. "If you will
+pardon me, Madame," he continues, "as I was about to say of this
+miserable shoemaker, he took to drink, as all our white mechanics do,
+and then used to abuse her. We don't think anything of these people, you
+see, who after giving themselves up to whiskey, die in the poor house, a
+terrible death. This shoemaker, of whom I speak, died, and she was
+turned into the streets by her landlord, and that sent her to living
+with a 'yellow fellow,' as we call them. Soon after this she died--so
+report has it. We never know much, you see, about these common people.
+They are a sort of trash we can make nothing of, and they get terribly
+low now and then." Madame Montford's swelling breast heaves, her
+countenance wears an air of melancholy; again she nervously lays aside
+the cloud-like skirts of her brocade dress. "Have you not," she
+inquires, fretting her jewelled fingers and displaying the massive gold
+bracelets that clasp her wrists, "some stronger evidence of her death?"
+Mr. Snivel says he has none but what he gathered from the negroes and
+poor mechanics, who live in the by-lanes of the city. There is little
+dependence, however, to be placed in such reports. Madame, with an air
+of composure, rises from her chair, and paces twice or thrice across the
+room, seemingly in deep study. "Something," she speaks, stopping
+suddenly in one of her sallies--"something (I do not know what it is)
+tells me she yet lives: that this is the child we see, living an
+abandoned life."
+
+"As I was going on to say, Madame," pursues Mr. Snivel, with great
+blandness of manner, "when our white trash get to living with our
+negroes they are as well as dead. One never knows what comes of them
+after that. Being always ready to do a bit of a good turn, as you know,
+I looked in at Sam Wiley's cabin. Sam Wiley is a negro of some
+respectability, and generally has an eye to what becomes of these white
+wretches. I don't--I assure you I don't, Madame--look into these places
+except on professional business. Sam, after making inquiry among his
+neighbors--our colored population view these people with no very good
+opinion, when they get down in the world--said he thought she had found
+her way through the gates of the poor man's graveyard."
+
+"Poor man's graveyard!" repeats Madame Montford, again resuming her
+chair.
+
+"Exactly! We have to distinguish between people of position and those
+white mechanics who come here from the North, get down in the world, and
+then die. We can't sell this sort of people, you see. No keeping their
+morals straight without you can. However, this is not to the point. (Mr.
+Solomon Snivel keeps his eyes intently fixed upon the lady.)
+
+"I sought out the old Sexton, a stupid old cove enough. He had neither
+names on his record nor graves that answered the purpose. In a legal
+sense, Madame, this would not be valid testimony, for this old cove
+being only too glad to get rid of our poor, and the fees into his
+pocket, is not very particular about names. If it were one of our
+'first families,' the old fellow would be so obsequious about having the
+name down square--"
+
+Mr. Snivel frets his fingers through his beard, and bows with an easy
+grace.
+
+"Our first families!" repeats Madame Montford.
+
+"Yes, indeed! He is extremely correct over their funerals. They are of a
+fashionable sort, you see. Well, while I was musing over the decaying
+dead, and the distinction between poor dead and rich dead, there came
+along one Graves, a sort of wayward, half simpleton, who goes about
+among churchyards, makes graves a study, knows where every one who has
+died for the last century is tucked away, and is worth six sextons at
+pointing out graves. He never knows anything about the living, for the
+living, he says, won't let him live; and that being the case, he only
+wants to keep up his acquaintance with the dead. He never has a hat to
+his head, nor a shoe to his foot; and where, and how he lives, no one
+can tell. He has been at the whipping-post a dozen times or more, but
+I'm not so sure that the poor wretch ever did anything to merit such
+punishment. Just as the crabbed old sexton was going to drive him out of
+the gate with a big stick, I says, more in the way of a joke than
+anything else: 'Graves, come here!--I want a word or two with you.' He
+came up, looking shy and suspicious, and saying he wasn't going to harm
+anybody, but there was some fresh graves he was thinking over."
+
+"Some fresh graves!" repeats Madame Montford, nervously.
+
+"Bless you!--a very common thing," rejoins Mr. Snivel, with a bow.
+"Well, this lean simpleton said they (the graves) were made while he was
+sick. That being the case, he was deprived--and he lamented it
+bitterly--of being present at the funerals, and getting the names of the
+deceased. He is a great favorite with the grave-digger, lends him a
+willing hand on all occasions, and is extremely useful when the yellow
+fever rages. But to the sexton he is a perfect pest, for if a grave be
+made during his absence he will importune until he get the name of the
+departed. 'Graves,' says I, 'where do they bury these unfortunate women
+who die off so, here in Charleston?' 'Bless you, my friend,' says
+Graves, accompanying his words with an idiotic laugh, 'why, there's
+three stacks of them, yonder. They ship them from New York in lots, poor
+things; they dies here in droves, poor things; and we buries them yonder
+in piles, poor things. They go--yes, sir, I have thought a deal of this
+thing--fast through life; but they dies, and nobody cares for them--you
+see how they are buried.' I inquired if he knew all their names. He said
+of course he did. If he didn't, nobody else would. In order to try him,
+I desired he would show me the grave of Mag Munday. He shook his head
+smiled, muttered the name incoherently, and said he thought it sounded
+like a dead name. 'I'll get my thinking right,' he pursued, and
+brightening up all at once, his vacant eyes flashed, then he touched me
+cunningly on the arm, and with a wink and nod of the head there was no
+mistaking, led the way to a great mound located in an obscure part of
+the graveyard--"
+
+"A great mound! I thought it would come to that," sighs Madame Montford,
+impatiently.
+
+"We bury these wretched creatures in an obscure place. Indeed, Madame, I
+hold it unnecessary to have anything to distinguish them when once they
+are dead. Well, this poor forlorn simpleton then sat down on a grave,
+and bid me sit beside him. I did as he bid me, and soon he went into a
+deep study, muttering the name of Mag Munday the while, until I thought
+he never would stop. So wild and wandering did the poor fellow seem,
+that I began to think it a pity we had not a place, an insane hospital,
+or some sort of benevolent institution, where such poor creatures could
+be placed and cared for. It would be much better than sending them to
+the whipping-post--"
+
+"I am indeed of your opinion--of your way of thinking most certainly,"
+interpolates Madame Montford, a shadow of melancholy darkening her
+countenance.
+
+"At length, he went at it, and repeated over an infinite quantity of
+names. It was wonderful to see how he could keep them all in his head.
+'Well, now,' says he, turning to me with an inoffensive laugh, 'she
+ben't dead. You may bet on that. There now!' he spoke, as if suddenly
+becoming conscious of a recently-made discovery. 'Why, she runned wild
+about here, as I does, for a time; was abused and knocked about by
+everybody. Oh, she had a hard time enough, God knows that.' 'But that is
+not disclosing to me what became of her,' says I; 'come, be serious,
+Graves.' (We call him this, you see, Madame, for the reason that he is
+always among graveyards.) Then he went into a singing mood, sang two
+plaintive songs, and had sung a third and fourth, if I had not stopped
+him. 'Well,' he says, 'that woman ain't dead, for I've called up in my
+mind the whole graveyard of names, and her's is not among them. Why not,
+good gentleman, (he seized me by the arm as he said this,) inquire of
+Milman Mingle, the vote-cribber? He is a great politician, never thinks
+of poor Graves, and wouldn't look into a graveyard for the world. The
+vote-cribber used to live with her, and several times he threatened to
+hang her, and would a hanged her--yes, he would, sir--if it hadn't a
+been for the neighbors. I don't take much interest in the living, you
+know. But I pitied her, poor thing, for she was to be pitied, and there
+was nobody but me to do it. Just inquire of the vote-cribber.' I knew
+the simpleton never told an untruth, being in no way connected with our
+political parties."
+
+"Never told an untruth, being in no way connected with our political
+parties!" repeats Madame Montford, who has become more calm.
+
+"I gave him a few shillings, he followed me to the gate, and left me
+muttering, 'Go, inquire of the vote-cribber.'"
+
+"And have you found this man?" inquires the anxious lady.
+
+"I forthwith set about it," replies Mr. Snivel, "but as yet, am
+unsuccessful. Nine months during the year his residence is the jail--"
+
+"The jail!"
+
+"Yes, Madame, the jail. His profession, although essential to the
+elevation of our politicians and statesmen, is nevertheless unlawful.
+And he being obliged to practice it in opposition to the law, quietly
+submits to the penalty, which is a residence in the old prison for a
+short time. It's a nominal thing, you see, and he has become so
+habituated to it that I am inclined to the belief that he prefers it. I
+proceeded to the prison and found he had been released. One of our
+elections comes off in a few days. The approach of such an event is sure
+to find him at large. I sought him in all the drinking saloons, in the
+gambling dens, in the haunts of prostitution--in all the low places
+where our great politicians most do assemble and debauch themselves. He
+was not to be found. Being of the opposite party, I despatched a spy to
+the haunt of the committee of the party to which he belongs, and for
+which he cribs. I have paced the colonnade for more than an hour,
+waiting the coming of this spy. He did not return, and knowing your
+anxiety in the matter I returned to you. To-morrow I will seek him out;
+to-morrow I will get from him what he knows of this woman you seek.
+
+"And now, Madame, here is something I would have you examine." (Mr.
+Snivel methodically says he got it of McArthur, the antiquary.) "She
+made a great ado about a dress that contained this letter. I have no
+doubt it will tell a tale." Mr. Snivel draws from his breast-pocket the
+letter found concealed in the old dress, and passes it to Madame
+Montford, who receives it with a nervous hand. Her eyes become fixed
+upon it, she glances over its defaced page with an air of bewilderment,
+her face crimsons, then suddenly pales, her lips quiver--her every nerve
+seems unbending to the shock. "Heavens! has it come to this?" she
+mutters, confusedly. Her strength fails her; the familiar letter falls
+from her fingers.--For a few moments she seems struggling to suppress
+her emotions, but her reeling brain yields, her features become like
+marble, she shrieks and swoons ere Mr. Snivel has time to clasp her in
+his arms.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+LADY SWIGGS ENCOUNTERS DIFFICULTIES ON HER ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK.
+
+
+A pleasant passage of sixty hours, a good shaking up at the hands of
+that old tyrant, sea-sickness, and Lady Swiggs finds the steamer on
+which she took passage gliding majestically up New York Bay. There she
+sits, in all her dignity, an embodiment of our decayed chivalry, a fair
+representative of our first families. She has taken up her position on
+the upper deck, in front of the wheel house. As one after another the
+objects of beauty that make grand the environs of that noble Bay, open
+to her astonished eyes, she contrasts them favorably or unfavorably with
+some familiar object in Charleston harbor. There is indeed a similarity
+in the conformation. And though ours, she says, may not be so extensive,
+nor so grand in its outlines, nor so calm and soft in its perspective,
+there is a more aristocratic air about it. Smaller bodies are always
+more select and respectable. The captain, to whom she has put an hundred
+and one questions which he answers in monosyllables, is not, she thinks,
+so much of a gentleman as he might have been had he been educated in
+Charleston. He makes no distinction in favor of people of rank.
+
+Lady Swiggs wears that same faded silk dress; her black crape bonnet,
+with two saucy red artificial flowers tucked in at the side, sits so
+jauntily; that dash of brown hair is smoothed so exactly over her
+yellow, shrivelled forehead; her lower jaw oscillates with increased
+motion; and her sharp, gray eyes, as before, peer anxiously through her
+great-eyed spectacles. And, generous reader, that you may not mistake
+her, she has brought her inseparable Milton, which she holds firmly
+grasped in her right hand. "You have had a tedious time of it, Madam,"
+says a corpulent lady, who is extensively dressed and jewelled, and
+accosts her with a familiar air. Lady Swiggs says not so tedious as it
+might have been, and gives her head two or three very fashionable
+twitches.
+
+"Your name, if you please?"
+
+"The Princess Grouski. My husband, the Prince Grouski," replies the
+corpulent lady, turning and introducing a fair-haired gentleman, tall
+and straight of person, somewhat military in his movements, and
+extremely fond of fingering his long, Saxon moustache. Lady Swiggs, on
+the announcement of a princess, rises suddenly to her feet, and
+commences an unlimited number of courtesies. She is, indeed, most happy
+to meet, and have the honor of being fellow-voyager with their Royal
+Highnesses--will remember it as being one of the happiest events of her
+life,--and begs to assure them of her high esteem. The corpulent lady
+gives her a delicate card, on which is described the crown of Poland,
+and beneath, in exact letters, "The Prince and Princess Grouski." The
+Prince affects not to understand English, which Lady Swiggs regrets
+exceedingly, inasmuch as it deprives her of an interesting conversation
+with a person of royal blood. The card she places carefully between the
+leaves of her Milton, having first contemplated it with an air of
+exultation. Again begging to thank the Prince and Princess for this
+mark of their distinguished consideration, Lady Swiggs inquires if they
+ever met or heard of Sir Sunderland Swiggs. The rotund lady, for herself
+and the prince, replies in the negative. "He was," she pursues, with a
+sigh of disappointment, "he was very distinguished, in his day. Yes, and
+I am his lineal descendant. Your highnesses visited Charleston, of
+course?"
+
+"O dear," replies the rotund lady, somewhat laconically, "the happiest
+days of my life were spent among the chivalry of South Carolina. Indeed,
+Madam, I have received the attention and honors of the very first
+families in that State."
+
+This exclamation sets the venerable lady to thinking how it could be
+possible that their highnesses received the attentions of the first
+families and she not know it. No great persons ever visited the United
+States without honoring Charleston with their presence, it was true; but
+how in the world did it happen that she was kept in ignorance of such an
+event as that of the Prince and Princess paying it a visit. She began to
+doubt the friendship of her distinguished acquaintances, and the St.
+Cecilia Society. She hopes that should they condescend to pay the United
+States a second visit, they will remember her address. This the rotund
+lady, who is no less a person than the distinguished Madame Flamingo,
+begs to assure her she will.
+
+Let not this happy union between Grouski and the old hostess, surprise
+you, gentle reader. It was brought about by Mr. Snivel, the
+accommodation man, who, as you have before seen, is always ready to do a
+bit of a good turn. Being a skilful diplomatist in such matters, he
+organized the convention, superintended the wooing, and for a lusty
+share of the spoils, secured to him by Grouski, brought matters to an
+issue "highly acceptable" to all parties. A sale of her palace of
+licentiousness, works of art, costly furniture, and female wares,
+together with the good will of all concerned, (her friends of the "bench
+and bar" not excepted,) was made for the nice little sum of sixty-seven
+thousand dollars, to Madame Grace Ashley, whose inauguration was one of
+the most gorgeous _fêtes_ the history of Charleston can boast. The new
+occupant was a novice. She had not sufficient funds to pay ready money
+for the purchase, hence Mr. Doorwood, a chivalric and very excellent
+gentleman, according to report, supplies the necessary, taking a
+mortgage on the institution; which proves to be quite as good property
+as the Bank, of which he is president. It is not, however, just that
+sort of business upon which an already seared conscience can repose in
+quiet, hence he applies that antidote too frequently used by knaves--he
+never lets a Sunday pass without piously attending church.
+
+The money thus got, through this long life of iniquity, was by Madame
+Flamingo handed over to the Prince, in exchange for his heart and the
+title she had been deluded to believe him capable of conferring. Her
+reverence for Princes and exiled heroes, (who are generally exiled
+humbugs,) was not one jot less than that so pitiably exhibited by our
+self-dubbed fashionable society all over this Union. It may be well to
+add, that this distinguished couple, all smiling and loving, are on
+their way to Europe, where they are sure of receiving the attentions of
+any quantity of "crowned heads." Mr. Snivel, in order not to let the
+affair lack that _eclat_ which is the crowning point in matters of high
+life, got smuggled into the columns of the highly respectable and very
+authentic old "Courier," a line or two, in which the fashionable world
+was thrown into a flutter by the announcement that Prince Grouski and
+his wealthy bride left yesterday, _en route_ for Europe. This bit of
+gossip the "New York Herald" caught up and duly itemised, for the
+benefit of its upper-ten readers, who, as may be easily imagined, were
+all on tip-toe to know the address of visitors so distinguished, and
+leave cards.
+
+Mrs. Swiggs has (we must return to her mission) scarcely set foot on
+shore, when, thanks to a little-headed corporation, she is fairly set
+upon by a dozen or more villanous hack-drivers, each dangling his whip
+in her face, to the no small danger of her bonnet and spectacles. They
+jostle her, utter vile imprecations, dispute for the right of carrying
+her, each in his turn offering to do it a shilling less. Lady Swiggs is
+indeed an important individual in the hands of the hack-drivers, and by
+them, in a fair way of being torn to pieces. She wonders they do not
+recognize her as a distinguished person, from the chivalric State of
+South Carolina. The captain is engaged with his ship, passengers are
+hurrying ashore, too anxious to escape the confinement of the cabin;
+every one seems in haste to leave her, no one offers to protect her from
+the clutches of those who threaten to tear her into precious pieces. She
+sighs for Sister Slocum, for Mr. Hadger, for any one kind enough to
+raise a friendly voice in her behalf. Now one has got her black box,
+another her corpulent carpet-bag--a third exults in a victory over her
+band-box. Fain would she give up her mission in disgust, return to the
+more aristocratic atmosphere of Charleston, and leave the heathen to his
+fate. All this might have been avoided had Sister Slocum sent her
+carriage. She will stick by her black-box, nevertheless. So into the
+carriage with it she gets, much discomfited. The driver says he would
+drive to the Mayor's office "and 'ave them ar two coves what's got the
+corpulent carpet-bag and the band-box, seed after, if it wern't that His
+Honor never knows anything he ought to know, and is sure to do nothing.
+They'll turn up, Mam, I don't doubt," says the man, "but it's next to
+los'in' on 'em, to go to the Mayor's office. Our whole corporation, Mam,
+don't do nothin' but eats oysters, drinks whiskey, and makes
+presidents;--them's what they do, Marm." Lady Swiggs says what a pity so
+great a city was not blessed with a bigger-headed corporation.
+
+"That it is, Marm," returns the methodical hack-driver, "he an't got a
+very big head, our corporation." And Lady Swiggs, deprived of her
+carpet-bag and band-box, and considerably out of patience, is rolled
+away to the mansion of Sister Slocum, on Fourth Avenue. Instead of
+falling immediately into the arms and affections of that worthy and very
+enterprising lady, the door is opened by a slatternly maid of all
+work--her greasy dress, and hard, ruddy face and hands--her short,
+flabby figure, and her coarse, uncombed hair, giving out strong evidence
+of being overtaxed with labor. "Is it Mrs. Slocum hersel' ye'd be
+seein'?" inquires the maid, wiping her soapy hands with her apron, and
+looking querulously in the face of the old lady, who, with the air of a
+Scotch metaphysician, says she is come to spend a week in friendly
+communion with her, to talk over the cause of the poor, benighted
+heathen. "Troth an' I'm not as sure ye'll do that same, onyhow; sure
+she'd not spend a week at home in the blessed year; and the divil
+another help in the house but mysel' and himsel', Mr. Slocum. A decent
+man is that same Slocum, too," pursues the maid, with a laconic
+indifference to the wants of the guest. A dusty hat-stand ornaments one
+side of the hall, a patched and somewhat deformed sofa the other. The
+walls wear a dingy air; the fumes of soapsuds and stewed onions offend
+the senses. Mrs. Swiggs hesitates in the doorway. Shall I advance, or
+retreat to more congenial quarters? she asks herself. The wily
+hack-driver (he agreed for four and charged her twelve shillings) leaves
+her black box on the step and drives away. She may be thankful he did
+not charge her twenty. They make no allowance for distinguished people;
+Lady Swiggs learns this fact, to her great annoyance. To the
+much-confused maid of all work she commences relating the loss of her
+luggage. With one hand swinging the door and the other tucked under her
+dowdy apron, she says, "Troth, Mam, and ye ought to be thankful, for the
+like of that's done every day."
+
+Mrs. Swiggs would like a room for the night at least, but is told, in a
+somewhat confused style, that not a room in the house is in order. That
+a person having the whole heathen world on her shoulders should not have
+her house in order somewhat surprises the indomitable lady. In answer to
+a question as to what time Mr. Slocum will be home, the maid of all work
+says: "Och! God love the poor man, there's no tellin'. Sure there's not
+much left of the poor man. An' the divil a one more inoffensive than
+poor Slocum. It's himsel' works all day in the Shurance office beyant.
+He comes home dragged out, does a dale of writing for Mrs. Slocum
+hersel', and goes to bed sayin' nothin' to nobody." Lady Swiggs says:
+"God bless me He no doubt labors in a good cause--an excellent
+cause--he will have his reward hereafter."
+
+It must here be confessed that Sister Slocum, having on hand a
+newly-married couple, nicely suited to the duties of a mission to some
+foreign land, has conceived the very laudable project of sending them to
+Aleppo, and is now spending a few weeks among the Dutch of Albany, who
+are expected to contribute the necessary funds. A few thousand dollars
+expended, a few years' residence in the East, a few reports as to what
+might have been done if something had not interposed to prevent it, and
+there is not a doubt that this happy couple will return home crowned
+with the laurels of having very nearly Christianized one Turk and two
+Tartars.
+
+The maid of all work suddenly remembers that Mrs. Slocum left word that
+if a distinguished lady arrived from South Carolina she could be
+comfortably accommodated at Sister Scudder's, on Fourth Street. Not a
+little disappointed, the venerable old lady calls a passing carriage,
+gets herself and black box into it, and orders the driver to forthwith
+proceed to the house of Sister Scudder. Here she is--and she sheds tears
+that she is--cooped up in a cold, closet-like room, on the third story,
+where, with the ends of her red shawl, she may blow and warm her
+fingers. Sister Scudder is a crispy little body, in spectacles. Her
+features are extremely sharp, and her countenance continually wears a
+wise expression. As for her knowledge of scripture, it is truly
+wonderful, and a decided improvement when contrasted with the meagre
+set-out of her table. Tea time having arrived, Lady Swiggs is invited
+down to a cup by a pert Irish servant, who accosts her with an
+independence she by no means approves. Entering the room with an air of
+stateliness she deems necessary to the position she desires to maintain,
+Sister Scudder takes her by the hand and introduces her to a bevy of
+nicely-conditioned, and sleek-looking gentlemen, whose exactly-combed
+mutton chop whiskers, smoothly-oiled hair, perfectly-tied white cravats,
+cloth so modest and fashionable, and mild, studious countenances,
+discover their profession. Sister Scudder, motioning Lady Swiggs aside,
+whispers in her ear: "They are all very excellent young men. They will
+improve on acquaintance. They are come up for the clergy." They, in
+turn, receive the distinguished stranger in a manner that is rather
+abrupt than cold, and ere she has dispensed her stately courtesy, say;
+"how do you do marm," and turn to resume with one another their
+conversation on the wicked world. It is somewhat curious to see how much
+more interested these gentry become in the wicked world when it is afar
+off.
+
+Tea very weak, butter very strong, toast very thin, and religious
+conversation extremely thick, make up the repast. There is no want of
+appetite. Indeed one might, under different circumstances, have imagined
+Sister Scudder's clerical boarders contesting a race for an extra slice
+of her very thin toast. Not the least prominent among Sister Scudder's
+boarders is Brother Singleton Spyke, whom Mrs. Swiggs recognizes by the
+many compliments he lavishes upon Sister Slocum, whose absence is a
+source of great regret with him. She is always elbow deep in some
+laudable pursuit. Her presence sheds a radiant light over everything
+around; everybody mourns her when absent. Nevertheless, there is some
+satisfaction in knowing that her absence is caused by her anxiety to
+promote some mission of good: Brother Spyke thus muses. Seeing that
+there is come among them a distinguished stranger, he gives out that
+to-morrow evening there will be a gathering of the brethren at the
+"House of the Foreign Missions," when the very important subject of
+funds necessary to his mission to Antioch, will be discussed. Brother
+Spyke, having levelled this battery at the susceptibility of Mrs.
+Swiggs, is delighted to find some fourteen voices chiming in--all
+complimenting his peculiar fitness for, and the worthy object of the
+mission. Mrs. Swiggs sets her cup in her saucer, and in a becoming
+manner, to the great joy of all present, commences an eulogium on Mr.
+Spyke. Sister Slocum, in her letters, held him before her in strong
+colors; spoke in such high praise of his talent, and gave so many
+guarantees as to what he would do if he only got among the heathen, that
+her sympathies were enlisted--she resolved to lose no time in getting to
+New York, and, when there, put her shoulder right manfully to the wheel.
+This declaration finds her, as if by some mysterious transport, an
+object of no end of praise. Sister Scudder adjusts her spectacles, and,
+in mildest accents, says, "The Lord will indeed reward such
+disinterestedness." Brother Mansfield says motives so pure will ensure a
+passport to heaven, he is sure. Brother Sharp, an exceedingly lean and
+tall youth, with a narrow head and sharp nose (Mr. Sharp's father
+declared he made him a preacher because he could make him nothing else),
+pronounces, with great emphasis, that such self-sacrifice should be
+written in letters of gold. A unanimous sounding of her praises
+convinces Mrs. Swiggs that she is indeed a person of great importance.
+There is, however, a certain roughness of manner about her new friends,
+which does not harmonize with her notions of aristocracy. She questions
+within herself whether they represent the "first families" of New York.
+If the "first families" could only get their heads together, the heathen
+world would be sure to knock under. No doubt, it can be effected in time
+by common people. If Sister Slocum, too, would evangelize the world--if
+she would give the light of heaven to the benighted, she must employ
+willing hearts and strong hands. Satan, she says, may be chained,
+subdued, and made to abjure his wickedness. These cheering
+contemplations more than atone for the cold reception she met at the
+house of Sister Slocum. Her only regret now is that she did not sell old
+Cicero. The money so got would have enabled her to bestow a more
+substantial token of her soul's sincerity.
+
+Tea over, thanks returned, a prayer offered up, and Brother Spyke,
+having taken a seat on the sofa beside Mrs. Swiggs, opens his batteries
+in a spiritual conversation, which he now and then spices with a few
+items of his own history. At the age of fifteen he found himself in love
+with a beautiful young lady, who, unfortunately, had made up her mind to
+accept only the hand of a clergyman: hence, she rejected his. This so
+disturbed his thoughts, that he resolved on studying theology. In this
+he was aided by the singular discovery, that he had a talent, and a
+"call to preach." He would forget his amour, he thought, become a member
+of the clergy, and go preach to the heathen. He spent his days in
+reading, his nights in the study of divine truths. Then he got on the
+kind side of a committee of very excellent ladies, who, having duly
+considered his qualities, pronounced him exactly suited to the study of
+theology. Ladies were generally good judges of such matters, and Brother
+Spyke felt he could not do better than act up to their opinions. To all
+these things Mrs. Swiggs listens with delight.
+
+Spyke, too, is in every way a well made-up man, being extremely tall and
+lean of figure, with nice Saxon hair and whiskers, mild but thoughtful
+blue eyes, an anxious expression of countenance, a thin, squeaking
+voice, and features sufficiently delicate and regular for his calling.
+His dress, too, is always exactly clerical. If he be cold and pedantic
+in his manner, the fault must be set down to the errors of the
+profession, rather than to any natural inclination of his own. But what
+is singular of Brother Spyke is, that, notwithstanding his passion for
+delving the heathen world, and dragging into Christian light and love
+the benighted wretches there found, he has never in his life given a
+thought for that heathen world at his own door--a heathen world sinking
+in the blackest pool of misery and death, in the very heart of an
+opulent city, over which it hurls its seething pestilence, and scoffs at
+the commands of high heaven. No, he never thought of that Babylon of
+vice and crime--that heathen world pleading with open jaws at his own
+door. He had no thought for how much money might be saved, and how much
+more good done, did he but turn his eyes; go into this dark world (the
+Points) pleading at his feet, nerve himself to action, and lend a strong
+hand to help drag off the film of its degradation. In addition to this,
+Brother Spyke was sharp enough to discover the fact that a country
+parson does not enjoy the most enviable situation. A country parson must
+put up with the smallest salary; he must preach the very best of
+sermons; he must flatter and flirt with all the marriageable ladies of
+his church; he must consult the tastes, but offend none of the old
+ladies; he must submit to have the sermon he strained his brain to make
+perfect, torn to pieces by a dozen wise old women, who claim the right
+of carrying the church on their shoulders; he must have dictated to him
+what sort of dame he may take for wife;--in a word, he must bear meekly
+a deal of pestering and starvation, or be in bad odor with the senior
+members of the sewing circle. Duly appreciating all these difficulties,
+Brother Spyke chose a mission to Antioch, where the field of his labors
+would be wide, and the gates not open to restraints. And though he could
+not define the exact character of his mission to Antioch, he so worked
+upon the sympathies of the credulous old lady, as to well-nigh create in
+her mind a resolve to give the amount she had struggled to get and set
+apart for the benefit of those two institutions ("the Tract Society,"
+and "The Home of the Foreign Missions"), all to the getting himself off
+to Antioch.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+MR. SNIVEL PURSUES HIS SEARCH FOR THE VOTE-CRIBBER.
+
+
+While Mrs. Swiggs is being entertained by Sister Scudder and her
+clerical friends in New York, Mr. Snivel is making good his demand on
+her property in Charleston. As the agent of Keepum, he has attached her
+old slaves, and what few pieces of furniture he could find; they will in
+a few days be sold for the satisfaction of her debts. Mrs. Swiggs, it
+must be said, never had any very nice appreciation of debt-paying,
+holding it much more legitimate that her creditors accept her dignity in
+satisfaction of any demand they chanced to have against her. As for her
+little old house, the last abode of the last of the great Swiggs
+family,--that, like numerous other houses of our "very first families,"
+is mortgaged for more than it is worth, to Mr. Staple the grocer. We
+must, however, turn to Mr. Snivel.
+
+Mr. Snivel is seen, on the night after the secret interview at the
+Charleston Hotel, in a happy mood, passing down King street. A little,
+ill-featured man, with a small, but florid face, a keen, lecherous eye,
+leans on his arm. They are in earnest conversation.
+
+"I think the mystery is nearly cleared up, Keepum" says Snivel.
+
+"There seems no getting a clue to the early history of this Madame
+Montford, 'tis true. Even those who introduced her to Charleston society
+know nothing of her beyond a certain period. All anterior to that is
+wrapped in suspicion," returns Keepum, fingering his massive gold chain
+and seals, that pend from his vest, then releasing his hold of Mr.
+Snivel's arm, and commencing to button closely his blue dress coat,
+which is profusely decorated with large gilt buttons. "She's the mother
+of the dashing harlot, or I'm no prophet, nevertheless," he concludes,
+shaking his head significantly.
+
+"You may almost swear it--a bad conscience is a horrid bore; d--n me, if
+I can't see through the thing. (Mr. Snivel laughs.) Better put our
+female friends on their guard, eh?"
+
+"They had better drop her as quietly as possible," rejoins Mr. Keepum,
+drawing his white glove from off his right hand, and extending his cigar
+case.
+
+Mr. Snivel having helped himself to a cigar, says: "D--n me, if she
+didn't faint in my arms last night. I made a discovery that brought
+something of deep interest back to her mind, and gave her timbers such a
+shock! I watched, and read the whole story in her emotions. One
+accustomed to the sharps of the legal profession can do this sort of
+thing. She is afraid of approaching this beautiful creature, Anna
+Bonard, seeing the life she lives, and the suspicions it might create in
+fashionable society, did she pursue such a course to the end of finding
+out whether she be really the lost child of the relative she refers to
+so often. Her object is to find one Mag Munday, who used to knock about
+here, and with whom the child was left. But enough of this for the
+present." Thus saying, they enter the house of the old antiquary, and
+finding no one but Maria at home, Mr. Snivel takes the liberty of
+throwing his arms about her waist. This done, he attempts to drag her
+across the room and upon the sofa. "Neither your father nor you ever had
+a better friend," he says, as the girl struggles from his grasp, shrinks
+at his feet, and, with a look of disdain, upbraids him for his attempt
+to take advantage of a lone female.
+
+"High, ho!" interposes Keepum, "what airs these sort of people put on,
+eh? Don't amount to much, no how; they soon get over them, you know. A
+blasted deal of assumption, as you say. Ha, ha, ha! I rather like this
+sort of modesty. 'Tisn't every one can put it cleverly." Mr. Snivel
+winks to Keepum, who makes an ineffectual attempt to extinguish the
+light, which Maria seizes in her hand, and summoning her courage, stands
+before them in a defiant attitude, an expression of hate and scorn on
+her countenance. "Ah, fiend! you take this liberty--you seek to destroy
+me because I am poor--because you think me humble--an easy object to
+prey upon. I am neither a stranger to the world nor your cowardly
+designs; and so long as I have life you shall not gloat over the
+destruction of my virtue. Approach me at your peril--knaves! You have
+compromised my father; you have got him in your grasp, that you may the
+more easily destroy me. But you will be disappointed, your perfidy will
+recoil on yourselves: though stripped of all else, I will die protecting
+that virtue you would not dare to offend but for my poverty." This
+unexpected display of resolution has the effect of making the position
+of the intruders somewhat uncomfortable. Mr. Keepum, whose designs
+Snivel would put in execution, sinks, cowardly, upon the sofa, while his
+compatriot (both are celebrated for their chivalry) stands off apace
+endeavoring to palliate the insult with facetious remarks. (This
+chivalry of ours is a mockery, a convenient word in the foul mouths of
+fouler ruffians.) Mr. Snivel makes a second attempt to overcome the
+unprotected girl. With every expression of hate and scorn rising to her
+face, she bids him defiance. Seeing himself thus firmly repulsed, he
+begs to assure her, on the word of a gentleman--a commodity always on
+hand, and exceedingly cheap with us--he was far from intending an
+insult. He meant it for a bit of a good turn--nothing more. "Always
+fractious at first--these sort of people are," pursues Keepum,
+relighting his cigar as he sits on the sofa, squinting his right eye.
+"Take bravely to gentlemen after a little display of modesty--always!
+Try her again, Squire." Mr. Snivel dashes the candle from her hand, and
+in the darkness grasps her wrists. The enraged girl shrieks, and calls
+aloud for assistance. Simultaneously a blow fells Mr. Snivel to the
+floor. The voice of Tom Swiggs is heard, crying: "Wretch! villain!--what
+brings you here? (Mr. Keepum, like the coward, who fears the vengeance
+he has merited, makes good his escape.) Will you never cease polluting
+the habitations of the poor? Would to God there was justice for the
+poor, as well as law for the rich; then I would make thee bite the dust,
+like a dying viper. You should no longer banquet on poor virtue.
+Wretch!--I would teach thee that virtue has its value with the poor as
+well as the rich;--that with the true gentleman it is equally sacred."
+Tom stands a few moments over the trembling miscreant, Maria sinks into
+a chair, and with her elbows resting on the table, buries her face in
+her hands and gives vent to her tears.
+
+"Never did criminal so merit punishment; but I will prove thee not worth
+my hand. Go, wretch, go! and know that he who proves himself worthy of
+entering the habitations of the humble is more to be prized than kings
+and princes." Tom relights the candle in time to see Mr. Snivel rushing
+into the street.
+
+The moon sheds a pale light over the city as the two chivalric
+gentlemen, having rejoined and sworn to have revenge, are seen entering
+a little gate that opens to a dilapidated old building, fronted by a
+neglected garden, situate on the north side of Queen street, and in days
+gone by called "Rogues' Retreat." "Rogues' Retreat" has scared vines
+creeping over its black, clap-boarded front, which viewed from the
+street appears in a squatting mood, while its broken door, closed
+shutters--the neglected branches of grape vines that depend upon decayed
+trellise and arbors, invest it with a forlorn air: indeed, one might
+without prejudicing his faculties imagine it a fit receptacle for our
+deceased politicians and our whiskey-drinking congressmen--the last
+resting-place of our departed chivalry. Nevertheless, generous reader,
+we will show you that "Rogues' Retreat" serves a very different purpose.
+Our mob-politicians, who make their lungs and fists supply the want of
+brains, use it as their favorite haunt, and may be seen on the eve of an
+election passing in and out of a door in the rear. Hogsheads of bad
+whiskey have been drunk in "Rogues' Retreat;" it reeks with the fumes of
+uncounted cigars; it has been the scene of untold villanies. Follow us;
+we will forego politeness, and peep in through a little,
+suspicious-looking window, in the rear of the building. This window
+looks into a cavern-like room, some sixteen feet by thirty, the ceiling
+of which is low, and blotched here and there with lamp-smoke and
+water-stains, the plastering hanging in festoons from the walls, and
+lighted by the faint blaze of a small globular lamp, depending from the
+centre, and shedding a lurid glare over fourteen grotesque faces, formed
+round a broad deal-table. Here, at one side of the table sits Judge
+Sleepyhorn, Milman Mingle, the vote-cribber, on his right; there, on the
+other, sits Mr. Snivel and Mr. Keepum. More conspicuous than anything
+else, stands, in the centre of the table, bottles and decanters of
+whiskey, of which each man is armed with a stout glass. "I am as well
+aware of the law as my friend who has just taken his seat can be. But we
+all know that the law can be made subordinate; and it must be made
+subordinate to party ends. We must not (understand me, I do not say this
+in my judicial capacity) be too scrupulous when momentous issues are
+upon us. The man who has not nerve enough to make citizens by the
+dozen--to stuff double-drawered ballot-boxes, is not equal to the times
+we live in;--this is a great moral fact." This is said by the Judge,
+who, having risen with an easy air, sits down and resumes his glass and
+cigar.
+
+"Them's my sentiments--exactly," interposes the vote-cribber, his burly,
+scarred face, and crispy red hair and beard, forming a striking picture
+in the pale light. "I have given up the trade of making Presidents, what
+I used to foller when, you see, I lived in North Caroliner; but, I tell
+you on the faith of my experience, that to carry the day we must let the
+law slide, and crib with a free chain: there's no gettin' over this."
+
+"It is due," interrupts the Judge, again rising to his feet and bowing
+to the cribber, "to this worthy man, whose patriotism has been tried so
+often within prison-walls, that we give weight to his advice. He bears
+the brunt of the battle like a hero--he is a hero!" (The vote-cribber
+acknowledges the compliment by filling his glass and drinking to the
+Judge.)
+
+"Of this worthy gentleman I have, as a member of the learned profession,
+an exalted opinion. His services are as necessary to our success as
+steam to the speed of a locomotive. I am in favor of leaving the law
+entirely out of the question. What society sanctions as a means to party
+ends, the law in most cases fails to reach," rejoins a tall,
+sandy-complexioned man, of the name of Booper, very distinguished among
+lawyers and ladies. Never was truth spoken with stronger testimony at
+hand. Mr. Keepum could boast of killing two poor men; Mr. Snivel could
+testify to the fallacy of the law by gaining him an honorable acquittal.
+There were numerous indictments against Mr. Keepum for his dealings in
+lottery tickets, but they found their way into the Attorney-General's
+pocket, and it was whispered he meant to keep them there. It was indeed
+pretty well known he could not get them out in consequence of the gold
+Keepum poured in. Not a week passes but men kill each other in the open
+streets. We call these little affairs, "rencontres;" the fact is, we are
+become so accustomed to them that we rather like them, and regard them
+as evidences of our advanced civilization. We are infested with
+slave-hunters, and slave-killers, who daily disgrace us with their
+barbarities; yet the law is weak when the victor is strong. So we
+continue to live in the harmless belief that we are the most chivalrous
+people in the world.
+
+"Mr. Booper!" ejaculates Mr. Snivel, knocking the ashes from his cigar
+and rising to his feet, "you have paid no more than a merited
+compliment to the masterly completeness of this excellent man's
+cribbing. (He points to the cribber, and bows.) Now, permit me to say
+here, I have at my disposal a set of fellows, (he smiles,) who can fight
+their way into Congress, duplicate any system of sharps, and stand in
+fear of nothing. Oh! gentlemen, (Mr. Snivel becomes enthusiastic.) I
+was--as I have said, I believe--enjoying a bottle of champagne with my
+friend Keepum here, when we overheard two Dutchmen--the Dutch always go
+with the wrong party--discoursing about a villanous caucus held to-night
+in King street. There is villany up with these Dutch! But, you see,
+we--that is, I mean I--made some forty or more citizens last year. We
+have the patent process; we can make as many this year."
+
+Mr. Sharp, an exceedingly clever politician, who has meekly born any
+number of cudgellings at the polls, and hopes ere long to get the
+appointment of Minister to Paris, interrupts by begging that Mr. Soloman
+will fill his glass, and resume his seat. Mr. Snivel having taking his
+seat, Mr. Sharp proceeds: "I tell you all what it is, says I, the other
+day to a friend--these ponderous Dutch ain't to be depended on. Then,
+says I, you must separate the Irish into three classes, and to each
+class you must hold out a different inducement, says I. There's the Rev.
+Father Flaherty, says I, and he is a trump card at electioneering. He
+can form a breach between his people and the Dutch, and, says I, by the
+means of this breach we will gain the whole tribe of Emeralds over to
+our party. I confess I hate these vagabonds right soundly; but necessity
+demands that we butter and sugar the mover until we carry our ends. You
+must not look at the means, says I, when the ends are momentous."
+
+"The staunch Irish," pursues the Judge, rising as Mr. Sharp sits down,
+"are noble fellows, and with us. To the middle class--the grocers and
+shopkeepers--we must, however, hold out flattering inducements; such as
+the reduction of taxes, the repeal of our oppressive license laws,
+taking the power out of the hands of our aristocracy--they are very
+tender here--and giving equal rights to emigrants. These points we must
+put as Paul did his sermons--with force and ingenuity. As for the low
+Irish, all we have to do is to crib them, feed and pickle them in
+whiskey for a week. To gain an Irishman's generosity, you cannot use a
+better instrument than meat, drink, and blarney. I often contemplate
+these fellows when I am passing sentence upon them for crime."
+
+"True! I have the same dislike to them personally; but politically, the
+matter assumes quite a different form of attraction. The laboring
+Irish--the dull-headed--are what we have to do with. We must work them
+over, and over, and over, until we get them just right. Then we must
+turn them all into legal voting citizens--"
+
+"That depends on how long they have been in the country," interrupts a
+brisk little man, rising quickly to his feet, and assuming a legal air.
+
+"Mr. Sprig! you are entirely behind the age. It matters not how long
+these gentlemen from Ireland have been in the country. They take to
+politics like rats to good cheese. A few months' residence, and a little
+working over, you know, and they become trump voters. The Dutch are a
+different sort of animal; the fellows are thinkers," resumes the Judge.
+
+Mr. Snivel, who has been sipping his whiskey, and listening very
+attentively to the Judge, rises to what he calls the most important
+order. He has got the paper all ready, and proposes the gentlemen he
+thinks best qualified for the naturalization committee. This done, Mr.
+Snivel draws from his pocket a copy of the forged papers, which are
+examined, and approved by every one present. This instrument is
+surmounted with the eagle and arms of the United States, and reads thus:
+
+     "_STATE OF NEW YORK_.
+
+     "In the Court of Common Pleas for the city and county of New York:
+
+     "I---- do declare on oath, that it is _bonâ fide_ my intention to
+     become a citizen of the United States, and to renounce forever all
+     allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, State or
+     sovereignty whatever, and particularly to the Queen of the United
+     Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, of whom I am a subject."
+
+     Signed this---- day of---- 184-.
+
+        JAMES CONNOR, Clerk.
+
+     "Clerk's office, Court of Common Pleas for the city and county of
+     New York."
+
+     "I hereby certify that the foregoing is a true copy of an original
+     declaration of intention remaining on record in my office, &c.,
+     &c., &c."
+
+"There! it required skill and practice to imitate like that" Mr. Snivel
+exultingly exclaims. "We require to make thirty-seven citizens, and have
+prepared the exact number of papers. If the cribbers do their duty, the
+day is ours." Thus is revealed one of the scenes common to "Rogues'
+Retreat." We shrink at the multiplicity of crime in our midst; we too
+seldom trace the source from whence it flows. If we did but turn our
+eyes in the right direction we would find the very men we have elected
+our guardians, protecting the vicious, whose power they
+covet--sacrificing their high trust to a low political ambition. You
+cannot serve a political end by committing a wrong without inflicting a
+moral degradation on some one. Political intrigue begets laxity of
+habits; it dispels that integrity without which the unfixed mind becomes
+vicious; it acts as a festering sore in the body politic.
+
+Having concluded their arrangements for the Mayor's election, the party
+drinks itself into a noisy mood, each outshouting the other for the
+right to speak, each refilling and emptying his glass, each asserting
+with vile imprecations, his dignity as a gentleman. Midnight finds the
+reeling party adjourning in the midst of confusion.
+
+Mr. Snivel winks the vote-cribber into a corner, and commences
+interrogating him concerning Mag Munday. The implacable face of the
+vote-cribber reddens, he contorts his brows, frets his jagged beard with
+the fingers of his left hand, runs his right over the crown of his head,
+and stammers: "I know'd her, lived with her--she used to run sort of
+wild, and was twice flogged. She got crazed at last!" He shrugs his
+stalworth shoulders and pauses. "Being a politician, you see, a body
+can't divest their minds of State affairs sufficiently to keep up on
+women matters," he pursues: "She got into the poor-house, that I
+knows--"
+
+"She is dead then?" interposes Mr. Snivel.
+
+"As like as not. The poor relatives of our 'first families' rot and die
+there without much being said about it. Just look in at that
+institution--it's a terrible place to kill folks off!--and if she be not
+there then come to me. Don't let the keepers put you off. Pass through
+the outer gate, into and through the main building, then turn sharp to
+the left, and advance some twenty feet up a filthy passage, then enter a
+passage on the right, (have a light with you,) that leads to a dozen or
+fourteen steps, wet and slippery. Then you must descend into a sort of
+grotto, or sickly vault, which you will cross and find yourself in a
+spacious passage, crawling with beetles and lizards. Don't be
+frightened, sir; keep on till you hear moanings and clankings of chains.
+Then you will come upon a row of horrid cells, only suited for dog
+kennels. In these cells our crazy folks are chained and left to die.
+Give Glentworthy a few shillings for liquor, sir, and he, having these
+poor devils in charge, will put you through. It's a terrible place, sir,
+but our authorities never look into it, and few of our people know of
+its existence."
+
+Mr. Snivel thanks the vote-cribber, who pledges his honor he would
+accompany him, but for the reason that he opens crib to-morrow, and has
+in his eye a dozen voters he intends to look up. He has also a few
+recently-arrived sons of the Emerald Isle he purposes turning into
+citizens.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+MRS. SWIGGS FALLS UPON A MODERN HEATHEN WORLD.
+
+
+Purged of all the ill-humors of her mind, Mrs. Swiggs finds herself, on
+the morning following the excellent little gathering at Sister
+Scudder's, restored to the happiest of tempers. The flattery
+administered by Brother Spyke, and so charmingly sprinkled with his
+pious designs on the heathen world, has had the desired effect. This
+sort of drug has, indeed, a wonderful efficacy in setting disordered
+constitutions to rights. It would not become us to question the
+innocence, or the right to indulge in such correctives; it is enough
+that our venerable friend finds herself in a happy vein, and is resolved
+to spend the day for the benefit of that heathen world, the darkness of
+which Brother Spyke pictured in colors so terrible.
+
+Breakfast is scarcely over when Sister Slocum, in great agitation, comes
+bustling into the parlor, offers the most acceptable apologies for her
+absence, and pours forth such a vast profusion of solicitude for Mrs.
+Swiggs' welfare, that that lady is scarce able to withstand the
+kindness. She recounts the numerous duties that absorb her attention,
+the missions she has on hand, the means she uses to keep up an interest
+in them, the amount of funds necessary to their maintenance. A large
+portion of these funds she raises with her own energy. She will drag up
+the heathen world; she will drag down Satan. Furnishing Mrs. Swiggs
+with the address of the House of the Foreign Missions, in Centre street,
+she excuses herself. How superlatively happy she would be to accompany
+Mrs. Swiggs. A report to present to the committee on finance, she
+regrets, will prevent this. However, she will join her precisely at
+twelve o'clock, at the House. She must receive the congratulations of
+the Board. She must have a reception that will show how much the North
+respects her co-laborers of the South. And with this, Sister Slocum
+takes leave of her guest, assuring her that all she has to do is to get
+into the cars in the Bowery. They will set her down at the door.
+
+Ten o'clock finds our indomitable lady, having preferred the less
+expensive mode of walking, entering a strange world. Sauntering along
+the Bowery she turns down Bayard street. Bayard street she finds lined
+with filthy looking houses, swarming with sickly, ragged, and besotted
+poor; the street is knee-deep with corrupting mire; carts are tilted
+here and there at intervals; the very air seems hurling its pestilence
+into your blood. Ghastly-eyed and squalid children, like ants in quest
+of food, creep and swarm over the pavement, begging for bread or
+uttering profane oaths at one another. Mothers who never heard the Word
+of God, nor can be expected to teach it to their children, protrude
+their vicious faces from out reeking gin shops, and with bare breasts
+and uncombed hair, sweep wildly along the muddy pavement, disappear into
+some cavern-like cellar, and seek on some filthy straw a resting place
+for their wasting bodies. A whiskey-drinking Corporation might feast its
+peculative eyes upon hogs wallowing in mud; and cellars where swarming
+beggars, for six cents a night, cover with rags their hideous
+heads--where vice and crime are fostered, and into which your sensitive
+policeman prefers not to go, are giving out their seething miasma. The
+very neighborhood seems vegetating in mire. In the streets, in the
+cellars, in the filthy lanes, in the dwellings of the honest poor, as
+well as the vicious, muck and mire is the predominating order. The
+besotted remnants of depraved men, covered with rags and bedaubed with
+mire, sit, half sleeping in disease and hunger on decayed door-stoops.
+Men with bruised faces, men with bleared eyes, men in whose every
+feature crime and dissipation is stamped, now drag their waning bodies
+from out filthy alleys, as if to gasp some breath of air, then drag
+themselves back, as if to die in a desolate hiding-place. Engines of
+pestilence and death the corporation might see and remove, if it would,
+are left here to fester--to serve a church-yard as gluttonous as its own
+belly. The corporation keeps its eyes in its belly, its little sense in
+its big boots, and its dull action in the whiskey-jug. Like Mrs. Swiggs,
+it cannot afford to do anything for this heathen world in the heart of
+home. No, sir! The corporation has the most delicate sense of its
+duties. It is well paid to nurture the nucleus of a pestilence that may
+some day break out and sweep over the city like an avenging enemy. It
+thanks kind Providence, eating oysters and making Presidents the while,
+for averting the dire scourge it encourages with its apathy. Like our
+humane and very fashionable preachers, it contents itself with looking
+into the Points from Broadway. What more would you ask of it?
+
+Mrs. Swiggs is seized with fear and trembling. Surely she is in a world
+of darkness. Can it be that so graphically described by Brother
+Syngleton Spyke? she questions within herself. It might, indeed, put
+Antioch to shame: but the benighted denizens with which it swarms speak
+her own tongue. "It is a deal worse in Orange street,[3] Marm--a deal, I
+assure you!" speaks a low, muttering voice. Lady Swiggs is startled. She
+only paused a moment to view this sea of vice and wretchedness she finds
+herself surrounded with. Turning quickly round she sees before her a
+man, or what there is left of a man. His tattered garments, his lean,
+shrunken figure, his glassy eyes, and pale, haggard face, cause her to
+shrink back in fright. He bows, touches his shattered hat, and says, "Be
+not afraid good Madam. May I ask if you have not mistaken your way?"
+Mrs. Swiggs looks querulously through her spectacles and says, "Do tell
+me where I am?" "In the Points, good Madam. You seem confused, and I
+don't wonder. It's a dreadful place. I know it, madam, to my sorrow."
+There is a certain politeness in the manner of this man--an absence of
+rudeness she is surprised to find in one so dejected. The red, distended
+nose, the wild expression of his countenance, his jagged hair, hanging
+in tufts over his ragged coat collar, give him a repulsiveness not
+easily described. In answer to an inquiry he says, "They call me, Madam,
+and I'm contented with the name,--they call me Tom Toddleworth, the
+Chronicle. I am well down--not in years, but sorrow. Being sick of the
+world I came here, have lived, or rather drifted about, in this sea of
+hopeless misery, homeless and at times foodless, for ten years or more.
+Oh! I have seen better days, Madam. You are a stranger here. May God
+always keep you a stranger to the sufferings of those who dwell with us.
+I never expect to be anything again, owe nothing to the world, and
+never go into Broadway."
+
+[Footnote 3: Now called Baxter street]
+
+"Never go into Broadway," repeats Mrs. Swiggs, her fingers wandering to
+her spectacles. Turning into Orange street, Mr. Toddleworth tenders his
+services in piloting Mrs. Swiggs into Centre street, which, as he adds,
+will place her beyond harm. As they advance the scene becomes darker and
+darker. Orange street seems that centre from which radiates the avenues
+of every vice known to a great city. One might fancy the world's
+outcasts hurled by some mysterious hand into this pool of crime and
+misery, and left to feast their wanton appetites and die. "And you have
+no home, my man?" says Mrs. Swiggs, mechanically. "As to that, Madam,"
+returns the man, with a bow, "I can't exactly say I have no home. I kind
+of preside over and am looked up to by these people. One says, 'come
+spend a night with me, Mr. Toddleworth,' another says, 'come spend a
+night with me, Mr. Tom Toddleworth.' I am a sort of respectable man with
+them, have a place to lay down free, in any of their houses. They all
+esteem me, and say, come spend a night with me, Mr. Toddleworth. It's
+very kind of them. And whenever they get a drop of gin I'm sure of a
+taste. Surmising what I was once, they look up to me, you see. This
+gives me heart." And as he says this he smiles, and draws about him the
+ragged remnants of his coat, as if touched by shame. Arrived at the
+corner of Orange street, Mr. Toddleworth pauses and begs his charge to
+survey the prospect. Look whither she will nothing but a scene of
+desolation--a Babylon of hideous, wasting forms, mucky streets, and
+reeking dens, meet her eye. The Jews have arranged themselves on one
+side of Orange street, to speculate on the wasted harlotry of the
+other. "Look you, Madam!" says Mr. Toddleworth, leaning on his stick and
+pointing towards Chatham street. "A desert, truly," replies the august
+old lady, nervously twitching her head. She sees to the right ("it is
+wantonness warring upon misery," says Mr. Toddleworth) a long line of
+irregular, wooden buildings, black and besmeared with mud. Little houses
+with decrepit doorsteps; little houses with decayed platforms in front;
+little dens that seem crammed with rubbish; little houses with
+black-eyed, curly-haired, and crooked-nosed children looking shyly about
+the doors; little houses with lusty and lecherous-eyed Jewesses sitting
+saucily in the open door; little houses with open doors, broken windows,
+and shattered shutters, where the devil's elixir is being served to
+ragged and besotted denizens; little houses into which women with
+blotched faces slip suspiciously, deposit their almost worthless rags,
+and pass out to seek the gin-shop; little houses with eagle-faced men
+peering curiously out at broken windows, or beckoning some wayfarer to
+enter and buy from their door; little houses piled inside with the
+cast-off garments of the poor and dissolute, and hung outside with
+smashed bonnets, old gowns, tattered shawls; flaunting--red, blue, and
+yellow, in the wind, emblematic of those poor wretches, on the opposite
+side, who have pledged here their last offerings, and blazed down into
+that stage of human degradation, which finds the next step the
+grave--all range along, forming a picturesque but sad panorama. Mr.
+Moses, the man of the eagle face, who keeps the record of death, as the
+neighbors call it, sits opulently in his door, and smokes his cigar;
+while his sharp-eyed daughters estimate exactly how much it is safe to
+advance on the last rag some lean wretch would pledge. He will tell you
+just how long that brawny harlot, passing on the opposite side, will
+last, and what the few rags on her back will be worth when she is
+"shoved into Potters' Field." At the sign of the "Three Martyrs" Mr.
+Levy is seen, in his fashionable coat, and a massive chain falling over
+his tight waistcoat, registering the names of his grotesque customers,
+ticketing their little packages, and advancing each a shilling or two,
+which they will soon spend at the opposite druggery. Thus bravely wages
+the war. London has nothing so besotted, Paris nothing so vicious,
+Naples nothing so dark and despairing, as this heathen world we pass by
+so heedlessly. Beside it even the purlieus of Rome sink into
+insignificance. Now run your eye along the East side of Orange street. A
+sidewalk sinking in mire; a long line of one-story wooden shanties,
+ready to cave-in with decay; dismal looking groceries, in which the god,
+gin, is sending his victims by hundreds to the greedy graveyard;
+suspicious looking dens with dingy fronts, open doors, and windows
+stuffed with filthy rags--in which crimes are nightly perpetrated, and
+where broken-hearted victims of seduction and neglect, seeking here a
+last refuge, are held in a slavery delicacy forbids our describing; dens
+where negro dancers nightly revel, and make the very air re-echo their
+profaning voices; filthy lanes leading to haunts up alleys and in narrow
+passages, where thieves and burglars hide their vicious heads;
+mysterious looking steps leading to cavern-like cellars, where swarm and
+lay prostrate wretched beings made drunk by the "devil's elixir"--all
+these beset the East side of Orange street. Wasted nature, blanched and
+despairing, ferments here into one terrible pool. Women in
+gaudy-colored dresses, their bared breasts and brawny arms contrasting
+curiously with their wicked faces, hang lasciviously over "half-doors,"
+taunt the dreamy policeman on his round, and beckon the unwary stranger
+into their dens. Piles of filth one might imagine had been thrown up by
+the devil or the street commissioner, and in which you might bury a
+dozen fat aldermen without missing one; little shops where unwholesome
+food is sold; corner shops where idlers of every color, and sharpers of
+all grades, sit dreaming out the day over their gin--are here to be
+found. Young Ireland would, indeed, seem to have made this the citadel
+from which to vomit his vice over the city.
+
+"They're perfectly wild, Madam--these children are," says Mr.
+Toddleworth, in reply to a question Mrs. Swiggs put respecting the
+immense number of ragged and profaning urchins that swarm the streets.
+"They never heard of the Bible, nor God, nor that sort of thing. How
+could they hear of it? No one ever comes in here--that is, they come in
+now and then, and throw a bit of a tract in here and there, and are glad
+to get out with a whole coat. The tracts are all Greek to the dwellers
+here. Besides that, you see, something must be done for the belly,
+before you can patch up the head. I say this with a fruitful experience.
+A good, kind little man, who seems earnest in the welfare of these wild
+little children that you see running about here--not the half of them
+know their parents--looks in now and then, acts as if he wasn't afraid
+of us, (that is a good deal, Madam) and the boys are beginning to take
+to him. But, with nothing but his kind heart and earnest resolution,
+he'll find a rugged mountain to move. If he move it, he will deserve a
+monument of fairest marble erected to his memory, and letters of gold
+to emblazon his deeds thereon. He seems to understand the key to some of
+their affections. It's no use mending the sails without making safe the
+hull."
+
+At this moment Mrs. Swiggs' attention is attracted by a crowd of ragged
+urchins and grotesque-looking men, gathered about a heap of filth at
+that corner of Orange street that opens into the Points.
+
+"They are disinterring his Honor, the Mayor," says Mr. Toddleworth. "Do
+this sort of thing every day, Madam; they mean no harm, you see."
+
+Mrs. Swiggs, curious to witness the process of disinterring so
+distinguished a person, forgets entirely her appointment at the House of
+the Foreign Missions, crowds her way into the filthy throng, and watches
+with intense anxiety a vacant-looking idiot, who has seen some sixteen
+summers, lean and half clad, and who has dug with his staff a hole deep
+in the mud, which he is busy piling up at the edges.
+
+"Deeper, deeper!" cries out a dozen voices, of as many mischievous
+urchins, who are gathered round in a ring, making him the victim of
+their sport. Having cast his glassy eyes upward, and scanned vacantly
+his audience, he sets to work again, and continues throwing out dead
+cats by the dozen, all of which he exults over, and pauses now and then
+for the approbation of the bystanders, who declare they bear no
+resemblance to his Honor, or any one of the Board of Aldermen. One
+chubby urchin, with a bundle of _Tribunes_ under his arm, looks
+mischievously into the pit, and says, "His 'Onor 'ill want the
+_Tribune_." Another, of a more taciturn disposition, shrugs his
+shoulders, gives his cap a pull over his eyes, and says, spicing his
+declaration with an oath, "He'll buy two _Heralds_!--he will." The
+taciturn urchin draws them from his bundle with an air of independence,
+flaunts them in the face of his rival, and exults over their merits. A
+splashing of mud, followed by a deafening shout, announces that the
+persevering idiot has come upon the object he seeks. One proclaims to
+his motley neighbors that the whole corporation is come to light;
+another swears it is only his Honor and a dead Alderman. A third, more
+astute than the rest, says it is only the head and body of the
+Corporation--a dead pig and a decaying pumpkin! Shout after shout goes
+up as the idiot, exultingly, drags out the prostrate pig, following it
+with the pumpkin. Mr. Toddleworth beckons Lady Swiggs away. The
+wicked-faced harlots are gathering about her in scores. One has just
+been seen fingering her dress, and hurrying away, disappearing
+suspiciously into an Alley.
+
+"You see, Madam," says Mr. Toddleworth, as they gain the vicinity of Cow
+Bay, "it is currently reported, and believed by the dwellers here, that
+our Corporation ate itself out of the world not long since; and seeing
+how much they suffer by the loss of such--to have a dead Corporation in
+a great city, is an evil, I assure you--an institution, they adopt this
+method of finding it. It affords them no little amusement. These
+swarming urchins will have the filthy things laid out in state, holding
+with due ceremony an inquest over them, and mischievously proposing to
+the first policeman who chances along, that he officiate as coroner.
+Lady Swiggs has not a doubt that light might be valuably reflected over
+this heathen world. Like many other very excellent ladies, however, she
+has no candles for a heathen world outside of Antioch."
+
+Mr. Toddleworth escorts her safely into Centre street, and directs her
+to the House of the Foreign Missions.
+
+"Thank you! thank you!--may God never let you want a shilling," he says,
+bowing and touching his hat as Mrs. Swiggs puts four shillings into his
+left hand.
+
+"One shilling, Madam," he pursues, with a smile, "will get me a new
+collar. A clean collar now and then, it must be said, gives a body a
+look of respectability."
+
+Mr. Toddleworth has a passion for new collars, regards them as a means
+of sustaining his respectability. Indeed, he considers himself in full
+dress with one mounted, no matter how ragged the rest of his wardrobe.
+And when he walks out of a morning, thus conditioned, his friends greet
+him with: "Hi! ho! Mister Toddleworth is uppish this morning." He has
+bid his charge good morning, and hurries back to his wonted haunts.
+There is a mysterious and melancholy interest in this man's history,
+which many have attempted but failed to fathom. He was once heard to say
+his name was not Toddleworth--that he had sunk his right name in his
+sorrows. He was sentimental at times, always used good language, and
+spoke like one who had seen better days and enjoyed a superior
+education. He wanted, he would say, when in one of his melancholy moods,
+to forget the world, and have the world forget him. Thus he shut himself
+up in the Points, and only once or twice had he been seen in the Bowery,
+and never in Broadway during his sojourn among the denizens who swarm
+that vortex of death. How he managed to obtain funds, for he was never
+without a shilling, was equally involved in mystery. He had no very bad
+habits, seemed inoffensive to all he approached, spoke familiarly on
+past events, and national affairs, and discovered a general knowledge of
+the history of the world. And while he was always ready to share his
+shilling with his more destitute associates, he ever maintained a degree
+of politeness and civility toward those he was cast among not common to
+the place. He was ready to serve every one, would seek out the sick and
+watch over them with a kindness almost paternal, discovering a singular
+familiarity with the duties of a physician. He had, however, an
+inveterate hatred of fashionable wives; and whenever the subject was
+brought up, which it frequently was by the denizens of the Points, he
+would walk away, with a sigh. "Fashionable wives," he would mutter, his
+eyes filling with tears, "are never constant. Ah! they have deluged the
+world with sorrow, and sent me here to seek a hiding place."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+IN WHICH THE VERY BEST INTENTIONS ARE SEEN TO FAIL.
+
+
+The city clock strikes one as Mrs. Swiggs, nervous and weary, enters the
+House of the Foreign Missions. Into a comfortably-furnished room on the
+right, she is ushered by a man meekly dressed, and whose countenance
+wears an expression of melancholy. Maps and drawings of Palestine,
+Hindostan, and sundry other fields of missionary labor, hang here and
+there upon the walls. These are alternated with nicely-framed engravings
+and lithographs of Mission establishments in the East, all located in
+some pretty grove, and invested with a warmth and cheerfulness that
+cannot fail to make a few years' residence in them rather desirable than
+otherwise. These in turn are relieved with portraits of distinguished
+missionaries. Earnest-faced busts, in plaster, stand prominently about
+the room, periodicals and papers are piled on little shelves, and bright
+bookcases are filled with reports and various documents concerning the
+society, all bound so exactly. The good-natured man of the kind face
+sits in refreshing ease behind a little desk; the wise-looking lean man,
+in the spectacles, is just in front of him, buried in ponderous folios
+of reports. In the centre of the room stands a highly-polished mahogany
+table, at which Brother Spyke is seated, his elbow rested, and his head
+leaning thoughtfully in his hand. The rotund figure and energetic face
+of Sister Slocum is seen, whisking about conspicuously among a bevy of
+sleek but rather lean gentlemen, studious of countenance, and in modest
+cloth. For each she has something cheerful to impart; each in his turn
+has some compliment to bestow upon her. Several nicely-dressed, but
+rather meek-looking ladies, two or three accompanied by their knitting
+work, have arranged themselves on a settee in front of the wise man in
+the spectacles.
+
+Scarcely has the representative of our chivalry entered the room when
+Sister Slocum, with all the ardor of a lover of seventeen, runs to her
+with open arms, embraces her, and kisses her with an affection truly
+grateful. Choking to relate her curious adventure, she is suddenly
+heaped with adulations, told how the time of her coming was looked to,
+as an event of no common occurrence--how Brothers Sharp, Spyke, and
+Phills, expressed apprehensions for her safety this morning, each in
+turn offering in the kindest manner to get a carriage and go in pursuit.
+The good-natured fat man gets down from his high seat, and receives her
+with pious congratulations; the man in the spectacles looks askant, and
+advances with extended hand. To use a convenient phrase, she is received
+with open arms; and so meek and good is the aspect, that she finds her
+thoughts transported to an higher, a region where only is bliss.
+Provided with a seat in a conspicuous place, she is told to consider
+herself the guest of the society. Sundry ovations, Sister Slocum gives
+her to understand, will be made in her honor, ere long. The fact must
+here be disclosed that Sister Slocum had prepared the minds of those
+present for the reception of an embodiment of perfect generosity.
+
+No sooner has Lady Swiggs time to breathe freely, than she changes the
+wondrous kind aspect of the assembly, and sends it into a paroxysm of
+fright, by relating her curious adventure among the denizens of the
+Points. Brother Spyke nearly makes up his mind to faint; the
+good-natured fat man turns pale; the wise man in the spectacles is seen
+to tremble; the neatly-attired females, so pious-demeanored, express
+their horror of such a place; and Sister Slocum stands aghast. "Oh!
+dear, Sister Swiggs," she says, "your escape from such a vile place is
+truly marvellous! Thank God you are with us once more." The good-natured
+fat man says, "A horrible world, truly!" and sighs. Brother Spyke shrugs
+his shoulders, adding, "No respectable person here ever thinks of going
+into such a place; the people there are so corrupt." Brother Sharp says
+he shudders at the very thought of such a place. He has heard much said
+of the dark deeds nightly committed in it--of the stubborn vileness of
+the dwellers therein. God knows he never wants to descend into it.
+"Truly," Brother Phills interposes, "I walked through it once, and
+beheld with mine eyes such sights, such human deformity! O, God! Since
+then, I am content to go to my home through Broadway. I never forget to
+shudder when I look into the vile place from a distance, nevertheless."
+Brother Phills says this after the manner of a philosopher, fretting his
+fingers, and contorting his comely face the while. Sister Slocum, having
+recovered somewhat from the shock (the shock had no permanent effect on
+any of them), hopes Sister Swiggs did not lend an ear to their false
+pleadings, nor distribute charity among the vile wretches. "Such would
+be like scattering chaff to the winds," a dozen voices chime in.
+"Indeed!" Lady Swiggs ejaculates, giving her head a toss, in token of
+her satisfaction, "not a shilling, except to the miserable wretch who
+showed me the way out. And he seemed harmless enough. I never met a more
+melancholy object, never!" Brother Spyke raises his eyes imploringly,
+and says he harbors no ill-will against these vile people, but
+melancholy is an art with them--they make it a study. They affect it
+while picking one's pocket.
+
+The body now resolves itself into working order. Brother Spyke offers up
+a prayer. He thanks kind Providence for the happy escape of Sister
+Swiggs--this generous woman whose kindness of heart has brought her
+here--from among the hardened wretches who inhabit that slough of
+despair, so terrible in all its aspects, and so disgraceful to a great
+and prosperous city. He thanks Him who blessed him with the light of
+learning--who endowed him with vigor and resolution--and told him to go
+forth in armor, beating down Satan, and raising up the heathen world. A
+mustering of spectacles follows. Sister Slocum draws from her bosom a
+copy of the report the wise man in the spectacles rises to read. A
+fashionable gold chain and gold-framed eye-glass is called to her aid;
+and with a massive pencil of gold, she dots and points certain items of
+dollars and cents her keen eye rests upon every now and then.
+
+The wise man in the spectacles rises, having exchanged glances with
+Sister Slocum, and commences reading a very long, and in nowise lean
+report. The anxious gentlemen draw up their chairs, and turn attentive
+ears. For nearly an hour, he buzzes and bores the contents of this
+report into their ears, takes sundry sips of water, and informs those
+present, and the world in general, that nearly forty thousand dollars
+have recently been consumed for missionary labor. The school at Corsica,
+the missions at Canton, Ningpo, Pu-kong, Cassaba, Abheokuta, and sundry
+other places, the names of which could not, by any possibility, aid the
+reader in discovering their location--all, were doing as well as could
+be expected, _under the circumstances_. After many years labor, and a
+considerable expenditure of money, they were encouraged to go forward,
+inasmuch as the children of the school at Corsica were beginning to
+learn to read. At Casaba, Droneyo, the native scholar, had, after many
+years' teaching, been made conscious of the sin of idol-worship, and had
+given his solemn promise to relinquish it as soon as he could propitiate
+two favorite gods bequeathed to him by his great uncle. The furnace of
+"Satanic cruelty" had been broken down at Dahomey. Brother Smash had,
+after several years' labor, and much expense--after having broken down
+his health, and the health of many others--penetrated the dark regions
+of Arabia, and there found the very seat of Satanic power. It was firmly
+pegged to Paganism and Mahomedan darkness! This news the world was
+expected to hail with consternation. Not one word is lisped about that
+terrible devil holding his court of beggary and crime in the Points. He
+had all his furnaces in full blast there; his victims were legion! No
+Brother Spyke is found to venture in and drag him down. The region of
+the Seven Churches offers inducements more congenial. Bound about them
+all is shady groves, gentle breezes, and rural habitations; in the
+Points the very air is thick with pestilence!
+
+A pause follows the reading. The wise man in the spectacles--his voice
+soft and persuasive, and his aspect meekness itself--would like to know
+if any one present be inclined to offer a remark. General satisfaction
+prevails. Brother Sharp moves, and Brother Phills seconds, that the
+report be accepted. The report is accepted without a dissenting voice. A
+second paper is handed him by Sister Slocum, whose countenance is seen
+to flash bright with smiles. Then there follows the proclaiming of the
+fact of funds, to the amount of three thousand six hundred dollars,
+having been subscribed, and now ready to be appropriated to getting
+Brother Syngleton Spyke off to Antioch. A din of satisfaction follows;
+every face is radiant with joy. Sister Swiggs twitches her head, begins
+to finger her pocket, and finally readjusts her spectacles. Having
+worked her countenance into a good staring condition, she sets her eyes
+fixedly upon Brother Spyke, who rises, saying he has a few words to
+offer.
+
+The object of his mission to Antioch, so important at this moment, he
+would not have misunderstood. Turks, Greeks, Jews, Arabs, Armenians, and
+Kurds, and Yesedees--yes, brethren, Yesedees! inhabit this part of
+Assyria, which opens up an extensive field of missionary labor, even
+yet. Much had been done by the ancient Greeks for the people who roamed
+in these Eastern wilds--much remained for us to do; for it was yet a
+dark spot on the missionary map. Thousands of these poor souls were
+without the saving knowledge of the Gospel. He could not shrink from a
+duty so demanding--wringing his very heart with its pleadings! Giving
+the light of the Gospel to these vicious Arabs and Kurds was the end and
+aim of his mission. (A motion of satisfaction was here perceptible.) And
+while there, he would teach the Jews a just sense of their Lord's
+design--which was the subjugation of the heathen world. Inward light was
+very good, old prophecies were very grand; but Judaism was made of
+stubborn metal, had no missionary element in it, and could only be
+forced to accept light through strong and energetic movement. He had
+read with throbbing heart how Rome, while in her greatness, protected
+those Christian pilgrims who went forth into the East, to do battle with
+the enemy. Would not America imitate Rome, that mighty mother of
+Republics? A deeper responsibility rested on her at this moment. Rome,
+then, was semi-barbarous; America, now, was Christianized and civilized.
+Hence she would be held more accountable for the dissemination of light.
+
+In those days the wandering Christian Jews undertook to instruct the
+polished Greeks--why could not Americans at this day inculcate the
+doctrines of Jesus to these educated heathen? It was a bold and daring
+experiment, but he was willing to try it. The Allwise worked his wonders
+in a mysterious way. In this irrelevant and somewhat mystical style,
+Brother Spyke continues nearly an hour, sending his audience into a
+highly-edified state. We have said mystical, for, indeed, none but those
+in the secret could have divined, from Brother Spyke's logic, what was
+the precise nature of his mission. His speech was very like a country
+parson's model sermon; one text was selected, and a dozen or more (all
+different) preached from; while fifty things were said no one could
+understand.
+
+Brother Spyke sits down--Sister Slocum rises. "Our dear and very
+generous guest now present," she says, addressing the good-natured fat
+man in the chair, as Lady Swiggs bows, "moved by the goodness that is in
+her, and conscious of the terrible condition of the heathen world, has
+come nobly to our aid. Like a true Christian she has crossed the sea,
+and is here. Not only is she here, but ready to give her mite toward
+getting Brother Spyke off to Antioch. Another donation she proposes
+giving the 'Tract Society,' an excellent institution, in high favor at
+the South. Indeed I may add, that it never has offended against its
+social--"
+
+Sister Slocum hesitates. Social slavery will not sound just right, she
+says to her herself. She must have a term more musical, and less grating
+to the ear. A smile flashes across her countenance, her gold-framed
+eye-glasses vibrate in her fingers: "Well! I was going to say, their
+social arrangements," she pursues.
+
+The assembly is suddenly thrown into a fit of excitement. Lady Swiggs is
+seen trembling from head to foot, her yellow complexion changing to pale
+white, her features contorting as with pain, and her hand clutching at
+her pocket. "O heavens!" she sighs, "all is gone, gone, gone: how vain
+and uncertain are the things here below." She drops, fainting, into the
+arms of Sister Slocum, who has overset the wise man in the spectacles,
+in her haste to catch the prostrate form. On a bench the august body is
+laid. Fans, water, camphor, hartshorn, and numerous other restoratives
+are brought into use. Persons get in each other's way, run every way but
+the right way, causing, as is common in such cases, very unnecessary
+alarm. The stately representative of the great Swiggs family lies
+motionless. Like the last of our chivalry, she has nothing left her but
+a name.
+
+A dash or two of cold water, and the application of a little hartshorn,
+and that sympathy so necessary to the fainting of distinguished
+people--proves all-efficient. A slight heaving of the bosom is detected,
+the hands--they have been well chaffed--quiver and move slowly, her face
+resumes its color. She opens her eyes, lays her hand solicitously on
+Sister Slocum's arm: "It must be the will of Heaven," she lisps,
+motioning her head, regretfully; "it cannot now be undone--"
+
+"Sister! sister! sister!" interrupts Sister Slocum, grasping her hand,
+and looking inquiringly in the face of the recovering woman, "is it an
+affection of the heart?--where is the pain?--what has befallen you? We
+are all so sorry!"
+
+"It was there, there, there! But it is gone now." Regaining her
+consciousness, she lays her hand nervously upon her pocket, and pursues:
+"Oh! yes, sister, it was there when I entered that vile place, as you
+call it. What am I to do? The loss of the money does not so much trouble
+my mind. Oh! dear, no. It is the thought of going home deprived of the
+means of aiding these noble institutions."
+
+Had Lady Swiggs inquired into the character of the purchaser of old
+Dolly she might now have become conscious of the fact, that whatever
+comes of evil seldom does good. The money she had so struggled to get
+together to aid her in maintaining her hypocrisy, was the result of
+crime. Perhaps it were better the wretch purloined it, than that the
+fair name of a noble institution be stained with its acceptance.
+Atonement is too often sought to be purchased with the gold got of
+infamy.
+
+The cause of this fainting being traced to Lady Swiggs' pocket book
+instead of her heart, the whole scene changes. Sister Slocum becomes as
+one dumb, the good fat man is seized with a nervous fit, the man in the
+spectacles hangs his head, and runs his fingers through his crispy hair,
+as Brother Spyke elongates his lean body, and is seen going into a
+melancholy mood, the others gathering round with serious faces. Lady
+Swiggs commences describing with great minuteness the appearance of Mr.
+Tom Toddleworth. That he is the person who carried off the money, every
+one is certain. "He is the man!" responds a dozen voices. And as many
+more volunteer to go in search of Mr. Detective Fitzgerald. Brother
+Spyke pricks up his courage, and proceeds to initiate his missionary
+labors by consulting Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, with whom he starts off
+in pursuit of Mr. Tom Toddleworth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+MR. SNIVEL ADVISES GEORGE MULLHOLLAND HOW TO MAKE STRONG LOVE.
+
+
+Let us leave for a time the pursuit with which we concluded the
+foregoing chapter, and return to Charleston. It is the still hour of
+midnight. There has been a ball at the fashionable house of the
+Flamingo, which still retains its name. In the great parlour we have
+before described, standing here and there upon massive tables with
+Egyptian marble-tops, are half-empty bottles of wine, decanters,
+tumblers, and viands of various descriptions. Bits of artificial flowers
+are strewn about the carpet, a shawl is seen thrown over one chair, a
+mantle over another; the light is half shut off--everything bears
+evidence of the gaieties of luxurious life, the sumptuous revel and the
+debauch. The gilded mirrors reflect but two faces, both hectic and moody
+of dissipation. George Mullholland and Mr. Snivel face each other, at a
+pier-table. Before them are several half filled bottles, from one of
+which Mr. Snivel fills George's glass.
+
+"There is something in this champaign (one only gets rubbish in these
+houses) that compounds and elevates one's ideas," says Mr. Snivel,
+holding his glass in the light, and squinting his blood-shotten eyes,
+the lids of which he has scarce power to keep open. "Drink,
+George--drink! You have had your day--why let such nonsense trouble
+you? The whole city is in love with the girl. Her beauty makes her
+capricious; if the old Judge has got her, let him keep her. Indeed, I'm
+not so sure that she doesn't love him, and (well, I always laugh when I
+think of it), it is a well laid down principle among us lawyers, that no
+law stands good against love." Mr. Snivel's leaden eyelids close, and
+his head drops upon his bosom. "She never can love him--never! His
+wealth, and some false tale, has beguiled her. He is a hoary-headed
+lecher, with wealth and position to aid him in his hellish pursuits; I
+am poor, and an outcast! He has flattered me and showered his favors
+upon me, only to affect my ruin. I will have--"
+
+"Pshaw! George," interrupts Mr. Snivel, brightening up, "be a
+philosopher. Chivalry, you know--chivalry! A dashing fellow like you
+should doff the kid to a knight of his metal: challenge him." Mr. Snivel
+reaches over the table and pats his opponent on the arm. "These women,
+George! Funny things, eh? Make any kind of love--have a sample for every
+sort of gallant, and can make the quantity to suit the purchaser. 'Pon
+my soul this is my opinion. I'm a lawyer, know pretty well how the sex
+lay their points. As for these unfortunate devils, as we of the
+profession call them (he pauses and empties his glass, saying, not bad
+for a house of this kind), there are so many shades of them, life is
+such a struggle with them; they dream of broken hopes, and they die
+sighing to think how good a thing is virtue. You only love this girl
+because she is beautiful, and beautiful women, at best, are the most
+capricious things in the world. D--n it, you have gone through enough of
+this kind of life to be accustomed to it. We think nothing of these
+things, in Charleston--bless you, nothing! Keep the Judge your
+friend--his position may give him a means to serve you. A man of the
+world ought at all times to have the private friendship of as many
+judges as he can."
+
+"Never! poor as I am--outcast as I feel myself! I want no such
+friendship. Society may shun me, the community may fear me, necessity
+may crush me--yea! you may regard me as a villain if you will, but, were
+I a judge, I would scorn to use my office to serve base ends." As he
+says this he draws a pistol from his pocket, and throwing it defiantly
+upon the table, continues as his lip curls with scorn, "poor men's lives
+are cheap in Charleston--let us see what rich men's are worth!"
+
+"His age, George!--you should respect that!" says Mr. Snivel,
+laconically.
+
+"His age ought to be my protection."
+
+"Ah!--you forget that the follies of our nature too often go with us to
+the grave."
+
+"And am I to suffer because public opinion honors him, and gives him
+power to disgrace me? Can he rob me of the one I love--of the one in
+whose welfare my whole soul is staked, and do it with impunity?"
+
+"D----d inconvenient, I know, George. Sympathize with you, I do. But,
+you see, we are governed here by the laws of chivalry. Don't let your (I
+am a piece of a philosopher, you see) temper get up, keep on a stiff
+upper lip. You may catch him napping. I respect your feelings, my dear
+fellow; ready to do you a bit of a good turn--you understand! Now let me
+tell you, my boy, he has made her his adopted, and to-morrow she moves
+with him to his quiet little villa near the Magnolia."
+
+"I am a poor, forlorn wretch," interrupts George, with a sigh. "Those
+of whom I had a right to expect good counsel, and a helping hand, have
+been first to encourage me in the ways of evil--"
+
+"Get money, Mullholland--get money. It takes money to make love strong.
+Say what you will, a woman's heart is sure to be sound on the gold
+question. Mark ye, Mullholland!--there is an easy way to get money. Do
+you take? (His fingers wander over his forehead, as he watches intently
+in George's face.) You can make names? Such things are done by men in
+higher walks, you know. Quite a common affair in these parts. The Judge
+has carried off your property; make a fair exchange--you can use his
+name, get money with it, and make it hold fast the woman you love. There
+are three things, George, you may set down as facts that will be of
+service to you through life, and they are these: when a man eternally
+rings in your ears the immoralities of the age, watch him closely; when
+a man makes what he has done for others a boast, set him down a knave;
+and when a woman dwells upon the excellent qualities of her many
+admirers, set her down as wanting. But, get money, and when you have got
+it, charm back this beautiful creature."
+
+Such is the advice of Mr. Soloman Snivel, the paid intriguer of the
+venerable Judge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+A SLIGHT CHANGE IN THE PICTURE.
+
+
+The two lone revellers remain at the pier-table, moody and hectic. Mr.
+Snivel drops into a sound sleep, his head resting on the marble.
+Weak-minded, jealous, contentious--with all the attendants natural to
+one who leads an unsettled life, sits George Mullholland, his elbow
+resting on the table, and his head poised thoughtfully in his hand. "I
+will have revenge--sweet revenge; yes, I will have revenge to-night!" he
+mutters, and sets his teeth firmly.
+
+In Anna's chamber all is hushed into stillness. The silvery moonbeams
+play softly through the half-closed windows, lighting up and giving an
+air of enchantment to the scene. Curtains hang, mist-like, from massive
+cornices in gilt. Satin drapery, mysteriously underlaid with lace, and
+floating in bewitching chasteness over a fairy-like bed, makes more
+voluptuous that ravishing form calmly sleeping--half revealed among the
+snowy sheets, and forming a picture before which fancy soars, passion
+unbends itself, and sentiment is led away captive. With such exquisite
+forms strange nature excites our love;--that love that like a little
+stream meanders capriciously through our feelings, refreshing life,
+purifying our thoughts, exciting our ambition, and modulating our
+actions. That love, too, like a quicksand, too often proves a destroyer
+to the weak-minded.
+
+Costly chairs, of various styles carved in black walnut, stand around
+the chamber: lounges covered with chastely-designed tapestry are seen
+half concealed by the gorgeous window curtains. The foot falls upon a
+soft, Turkey carpet; the ceiling--in French white, and gilt
+mouldings--is set off with two Cupids in a circle, frescoed by a skilled
+hand. On a lounge, concealed in an alcove masked by curtains pending
+from the hands of a fairy in bronze, and nearly opposite Anna's bed, the
+old Judge sleeps in his judicial dignity. To-day he sentenced three
+rogues to the whipping-post, and two wretched negroes--one for raising
+his hand to a white man--to the gallows.
+
+Calmly Anna continues to sleep, the lights in the girandoles shedding a
+mysterious paleness over the scene. To the eye that scans only the
+exterior of life, how dazzling! Like a refulgent cloud swelling golden
+in the evening sky, how soon it passes away into darkness and
+disappointment! Suddenly there appears, like a vision in the chamber,
+the stately figure of a female. Advancing slowly to the bed-side, for a
+minute she stands contemplating the sleeping beauty before her. A dark,
+languishing eye, an aquiline nose, beautifully-cut mouth, and a
+finely-oval face, is revealed by the shadow in which she stands. "How
+willingly," she mutters, raising the jewelled fingers of her right hand
+to her lips, as her eyes become liquid with emotion, and her every
+action betokens one whose very soul is goaded with remorse, "would I
+exchange all these worldly pleasures for one single day in peace of
+mind." She lays aside her mantle, and keeps her eyes fixed upon the
+object before her. A finely-rounded shoulder and exactly-developed bust
+is set off with a light satin bodice or corsage, cut low, opening
+shawl-fashion at the breast, and relieved with a stomacher of fine
+Brussels lace. Down the edges are rows of small, unpolished pearls,
+running into points. A skirt of orange-colored brocade, trimmed with
+tulle, and surrounded with three flounces, falls, cloud-like, from her
+girdle, which is set with cameos and unpolished pearls. With her left
+hand she raises slightly her skirts, revealing the embroidered gimps of
+a white taffeta underskirt, flashing in the moonlight. Small, unpolished
+pearls ornament the bands of her short sleeves; on her fingers are
+rings, set with diamonds and costly emeralds; and her wrists are clasped
+with bracelets of diamonds, shedding a modest lustre over her
+marble-like arms.
+
+"Can this be my child? Has this crime that so like a demon haunts
+me--that curses me even in my dreams, driven her, perhaps against her
+will, to seek this life of shame?" She takes the sleeper's hand gently
+in her own, as the tears gush down her cheeks.
+
+The sleeper startles, half raises herself from her pillow, parts her
+black, silky hair, that lays upon her gently-swelling bosom, and throws
+it carelessly down her shoulders, wildly setting her great black orbs on
+the strange figure before her. "Hush, hush!" says the speaker, "I am a
+friend. One who seeks you for a good purpose. Give me your
+confidence--do not betray me! I need not tell you by what means I gained
+access to you."
+
+A glow of sadness flashes across Anna's countenance. With a look of
+suspicion she scans the mysterious figure from head to foot. "It is the
+Judge's wife!" she says within herself. "Some one has betrayed me to
+her; and, as is too often the case, she seeks revenge of the less guilty
+party." But the figure before her is in full dress, and one seeking
+revenge would have disguised herself. "Why, and who is it, that seeks me
+in this mysterious manner?" whispers Anna, holding her delicate hand in
+the shadow, over her eyes. "I seek you in the hope of finding something
+to relieve my troubled spirit, I am a mother who has wronged her
+child--I have no peace of mind--my heart is lacerated--"
+
+"Are you, then, my mother?" interrupts Anna, with a look of scorn.
+
+"That I would answer if I could. You have occupied my thoughts day and
+night. I have traced your history up to a certain period. ("What I know
+of my own, I would fain not contemplate," interrupts Anna.) Beyond that,
+all is darkness. And yet there are circumstances that go far to prove
+you the child I seek. Last night I dreamed I saw a gate leading to a
+dungeon, that into the dungeon I was impelled against my will. While
+there I was haunted with the figure of a woman of the name of Mag
+Munday--a maniac, and in chains! My heart bled at the sight, for she, I
+thought, was the woman in whose charge I left the child I seek. I
+spoke--I asked her what had become of the child! She pointed with her
+finger, told me to go seek you here, and vanished as I awoke. I spent
+the day in unrest, went to the ball to-night, but found no pleasure in
+its gay circle. Goaded in my conscience, I left the ball-room, and with
+the aid of a confidant am here."
+
+"I recognize--yes, my lady, I recognize you! You think me your abandoned
+child, and yet you are too much the slave of society to seek me as a
+mother ought to do. I am the supposed victim of your crime; you are the
+favored and flattered ornament of society. Our likenesses have been
+compared many times:--I am glad we have met. Go, woman, go! I would not,
+outcast as I am, deign to acknowledge the mother who could enjoy the
+luxuries of life and see her child a wretch."
+
+"Woman! do not upbraid me. Spare, oh! spare my troubled heart this last
+pang," (she grasps convulsively at Anna's hand, then shrinks back in
+fright.) "Tell me! oh, tell me!" she pursues, the tears coursing down
+her cheeks--
+
+Anna Bonard interrupts by saying, peremptorily, she has nothing to tell
+one so guilty. To be thus rebuked by an abandoned woman, notwithstanding
+she might be her own child, wounded her feelings deeply. It was like
+poison drying up her very blood. Tormented with the thought of her
+error, (for she evidently labored under the smart of an error in early
+life,) her very existence now seemed a burden to her. Gloomy and
+motionless she stood, as if hesitating how best to make her escape.
+
+"Woman! I will not betray your coming here. But you cannot give me back
+my virtue; you cannot restore me untainted to the world--the world never
+forgives a fallen woman. Her own sex will be first to lacerate her heart
+with her shame." These words were spoken with such biting sarcasm, that
+the Judge, whose nap the loudness of Anna's voice had disturbed,
+protruded his flushed face and snowy locks from out the curtains of the
+alcove. "The gay Madame Montford, as I am a Christian," he exclaims in
+the eagerness of the moment, and the strange figure vanishes out of the
+door.
+
+"A fashionable, but very mysterious sort of person," pursues the Judge,
+confusedly. "Ah! ha,--her case, like many others, is the want of a clear
+conscience. Snivel has it in hand. A great knave, but a capital lawyer,
+that Snivel--"
+
+The Judge is interrupted in his remarks by the entrance of Mr. Snivel,
+who, with hectic face, and flushed eyes, comes rushing into the chamber.
+"Hollo!--old boy, there's a high bid on your head to-night. Ready to do
+you a bit of a good turn, you see." Mr. Snivel runs his fingers through
+his hair, and works his shoulders with an air of exultation. "If," he
+continues, "that weak-minded fellow--that Mullholland we have shown some
+respect to, hasn't got a pistol! He's been furbishing it up while in the
+parlor, and swears he will seriously damage you with it. Blasted
+assurance, those Northerners have. Won't fight, can't make 'em
+gentlemen; and if you knock 'em down they don't understand enough of
+chivalry to resent it. They shout to satisfy their fear and not to
+maintain their honor. Keep an eye out!"
+
+The Judge, in a tone of cool indifference, says he has no fears of the
+renegade, and will one of these days have the pleasure of sending him to
+the whipping-post.
+
+"As to that, Judge," interposes Mr. Snivel, "I have already prepared the
+preliminaries. I gave him the trifle you desired--to-morrow I will nail
+him at the Keno crib." With this the Judge and the Justice each take an
+affectionate leave of the frail girl, and, as it is now past one o'clock
+in the morning, an hour much profaned in Charleston, take their
+departure.
+
+Armed with a revolver Mullholland has taken up his position in the
+street, where he awaits the coming of his adversaries. In doubt and
+anxiety, he reflects and re-reflects, recurs to the associations of his
+past life, and hesitates. Such reflections only bring more vividly to
+his mind the wrong he feels himself the victim of, and has no power to
+resent except with violence. His contemplations only nerve him to
+revenge.
+
+A click, and the door cautiously opens, as if some votary of crime was
+about to issue forth in quest of booty. The hostess' head protrudes
+suddenly from the door, she scans first up and then down the street,
+then withdraws it. The Judge and Mr. Snivel, each in turn, shake the
+landlady by the hand, and emerge into the street. They have scarce
+stepped upon the sidepath when the report of a pistol resounds through
+the air. The ball struck a lamp-post, glanced, passed through the collar
+of Judge Sleepyhorn's coat, and brushed Mr. Snivel's fashionable
+whiskers. Madame Ashley, successor to Madame Flamingo, shrieks and
+alarms the house, which is suddenly thrown into a state of confusion.
+Acting upon the maxim of discretion being the better part of valor, the
+Judge and the Justice beat a hasty retreat into the house, and secrete
+themselves in a closet at the further end of the back-parlor.
+
+As if suddenly moved by some strange impulse, Madame Ashley runs from
+room to room, screaming at the very top of her voice, and declaring that
+she saw the assassin enter her house. Females rush from their rooms and
+into the great parlor, where they form groups of living statuary,
+strange and grotesque. Anxious faces--faces half painted, faces hectic
+of dissipation, faces waning and sallow, eyes glassy and lascivious,
+dishevelled hair floating over naked shoulders;--the flashing of
+bewitching drapery, the waving and flitting of embroidered underskirts,
+the tripping of pretty feet and prettier ankles, the gesticulating and
+swaying of half-draped bodies--such is the scene occasioned by the bench
+and the bar.
+
+Madame Ashley, having inherited of Madame Flamingo the value of a
+scrupulous regard for the good reputation of her house, must needs call
+in the watch to eject the assassin, whom she swears is concealed
+somewhere on the premises. Mr. Sergeant Stubbs, a much respected
+detective, and reputed one of the very best officers of the guard,
+inasmuch as he never troubles his head about other people's business,
+and is quite content to let every one fight their own battles,--provided
+they give him a "nip" of whiskey when they are through, lights his
+lantern and goes bobbing into every room in the house. We must here
+inform the reader that the cause of the _emeute_ was kept a profound
+secret between the judicial gentry. Madame Ashley, at the same time, is
+fully convinced the ball was intended for her, while Anna lays in a
+terrible fright in her chamber.
+
+"Ho," says Mr. Stubbs, starting back suddenly as he opened the door of
+the closet in which the two gentlemen had concealed themselves. "I see!
+I see!--beg your pardon, gentlemen!" Mr. Stubbs whispers, and bows, and
+shuts the door quickly.
+
+"An infernal affair this, Judge! D--n me if I wouldn't as soon be in the
+dock. It will all get out to-morrow," interposes Mr. Snivel,
+facetiously.
+
+"Blast these improper associations!" the high functionary exclaims,
+fussily shrugging his shoulders, and wiping the sweat from his forehead.
+"I love the girl, though, I confess it!"
+
+"Nothing more natural. A man without gallantry is like a pilgrim in the
+South-West Pass. You can't resist this charming creature. In truth it's
+a sort of longing weakness, which even the scales of justice fail to
+bring to a balance."
+
+Mr. Stubbs fails to find the assassin, and enters Madame Ashley's
+chamber, the door of which leads into the hall. Here Mr. Stubbs's quick
+eye suddenly discerns a slight motion of the curtains that enclose the
+great, square bed, standing in one corner. "I ax your pardon, Mam, but
+may I look in this 'ere bed?" Mr. Stubbs points to the bed, as Madame,
+having thrown herself into a great rocking chair, proceeds to sway her
+dignity backward and forward, and give out signs of making up her mind
+to faint.
+
+Mr. Stubbs draws back the curtains, when, behold! but tell it not in the
+by-ways, there is revealed the stalworth figure of Simon Patterson, the
+plantation parson. Our plantation parsons, be it known, are a singular
+species of depraved humanity, a sort of itinerant sermon-makers, holding
+forth here and there to the negroes of the rich planters, receiving a
+paltry pittance in return, and having in lieu of morals an excellent
+taste for whiskey, an article they invariably call to their aid when
+discoursing to the ignorant slave--telling him how content with his lot
+he ought to be, seeing that God intended him only for ignorance and
+servitude. The parson did, indeed, cut a sorry figure before the gaze of
+this indescribable group, as it rushed into the room and commenced
+heaping upon his head epithets delicacy forbids our inserting
+here--calling him a clerical old lecher, an assassin, and a disturber of
+the peace and respectability of the house. Indeed, Madame Ashley quite
+forgot to faint, and with a display of courage amounting almost to
+heroism, rushed at the poor parson, and had left him in the state he was
+born but for the timely precautions of Mr. Stubbs, who, finding a
+revolver in his possession, and wanting no better proof of his guilt,
+straightway took him off to the guard-house. Parson Patterson would have
+entered the most solemn and pious protestation of his innocence but the
+evidence was so strong against him, and the zeal of Mr. Sergeant Stubbs
+so apparent, that he held it the better policy to quietly submit to the
+rough fare of his new lodgings.
+
+"I have a terror of these brawls!" says Mr. Snivel, emerging from his
+hiding-place, and entering the chamber, followed by the high legal
+functionary.
+
+"A pretty how-do-ye-do, this is;" returns Madame Ashley, cooling her
+passion in the rocking-chair, "I never had much respect for parsons--"
+
+"Parsons?" interrupts Mr. Snivel, inquiringly, "you don't mean to say it
+was all the doings of a parson?"
+
+"As I'm a lady it was no one else. He was discovered behind the curtain
+there, a terrible pistol in his pocket--the wretch!"
+
+Mr. Snivel exchanges a wink with the Judge, points his thumb over his
+left shoulder, and says, captiously: "I always had an implacable hatred
+of that old thief. A bad lot! these plantation parsons."
+
+Mr. Stubbs having discovered and removed the assassin, the terrified
+damsels return to their chambers, and Madame Ashley proceeds to close
+her house, as the two legal gentlemen take their departure. Perhaps it
+would be well to inform the reader that a principal cause of Anna's
+preference for the Judge, so recently manifested, was the deep
+impression made on her already suspicious mind by Mr. McArthur, the
+antiquary, who revealed to her sincerely, as she thought, her future
+dark destiny.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+IN WHICH A HIGH FUNCTIONARY IS MADE TO PLAY A SINGULAR PART.
+
+
+The morning following the events detailed in the foregoing chapter,
+finds the august Sleepyhorn seated on his judgment-seat. The clock
+strikes ten as he casts his heavy eyes over the grotesque group gathered
+into his little, dingy court-room; and he bows to his clerk, of whom he
+gets his law knowledge, and with his right hand makes a sign that he is
+ready to admonish the erring, or pass sentence on any amount of
+criminals. History affords no record of a judge so unrelenting of his
+judgments.
+
+A few dilapidated gentlemen of the "_learned_ profession," with sharp
+features and anxious faces, fuss about among the crowd, reeking of
+whiskey and tobacco. Now they whisper suspiciously in the ears of
+forlorn prisoners, now they struggle to get a market for their legal
+nostrums. A few, more respectably clothed and less vicious of aspect,
+sit writing at a table inside the bar, while a dozen or more punch-faced
+policemen, affecting an air of superiority, drag themselves lazily
+through the crowd of seedy humanity, looking querulously over the
+railing encircling the dock, or exchanging recognitions with friends.
+
+Some twenty "negro cases" having been disposed of without much respect
+to law, and being sent up for punishment (the Judge finds it more
+convenient to forego testimony in these cases), a daughter of the
+Emerald Isle, standing nearly six feet in her bare soles, and much
+shattered about the dress, is, against her inclination, arraigned before
+his Honor. "I think I have seen you before, Mrs. Donahue?" says the
+Judge, inquiringly.
+
+"Arrah, good-morning, yer 'onher! Shure, it's only the sixth time these
+three weeks. Doesn't meself like to see yer smiling face, onyhow!" Here
+Mrs. Donahue commences complimenting the Judge in one breath, and laying
+no end of charges at the door of the very diminutive and harmless Mister
+Donahue in the next.
+
+"This being the sixth time," returns his Honor, somewhat seriously, "I
+would advise you to compromise the matter with Donahue, and not be seen
+here again. The state of South Carolina cannot pay your fees so often--"
+
+"Och, bad luck to Donahue! Troth, an' if yer onher'd put the fees down
+to Donahue, our acquaintance 'ouldn't be so fraquent." Mrs. Donahue says
+this with great unction, throwing her uncombed hair back, then daintily
+raising her dress apace, and inquiring of Mr. Sheriff Hardscrabble, who
+sits on his Honor's left, peering sharply through his spectacles, how he
+likes the spread of her broad, flat foot; "the charging the fees to
+Donahue, yer onher, 'd do it!" There was more truth in this remark than
+his Honor seemed to comprehend, for having heard the charge against her
+(Mr. Donahue having been caught in the act of taking a drop of her gin,
+she had well-nigh broken his head with the bottle), and having listened
+attentively while poor Donahue related his wrongs, and exhibited two
+very well blacked eyes and a broken nose, he came to the very just
+conclusion that it were well to save the blood of the Donahues. And to
+this end did he grant Mrs. Donahue board and lodging for one month in
+the old prison. Mrs. Donahue is led away, heaping curses on the head of
+Donahue, and compliments on that of his Honor.
+
+A pale, sickly looking boy, some eleven years old, is next placed upon
+the stand. Mr. Sergeant Stubbs, who leans his corpulent figure against
+the clerk's desk, every few minutes bowing his sleepy head to some
+friend in the crowd, says: "A hard 'un--don't do no good about here. A
+vagrant; found him sleeping in the market."
+
+His Honor looks at the poor boy for some minutes, a smile of kindliness
+seems lighting up his face; he says he would there were some place of
+refuge--a place where reformation rather than punishment might be the
+aim and end, where such poor creatures could be sent to, instead of
+confining them in cells occupied by depraved prisoners.
+
+Mr. Sheriff Hardscrabble, always eager to get every one into jail he
+can, inasmuch as it pays him twenty-two cents a day clear profit on each
+and every person confined, says: "A hard customer. Found sleeping in the
+market, eh? Well, we must merge him in a tub of water, and scrub him up
+a little." Mr. Hardscrabble views him with an air of satisfaction,
+touches him with a small cane he holds in his hand, as if he were
+something very common. Indeed, Mr. Hardscrabble seems quite at a loss to
+know what species of animal he is, or whether he be really intended for
+any other use than filling up his cells and returning him twenty-two
+cents a day clear profit. "Probably an incendiary," mutters the
+sagacious sheriff. The helpless boy would explain how he came to sleep
+in the market--how he, a poor cabin-boy, walked, foot-sore and hungry,
+from Wilmington, in the hope of getting a ship; and being moneyless and
+friendless he laid down in the market to sleep. Mr. Hardscrabble,
+however, suggests that such stories are extremely common. His Honor
+thinks it not worth while to differ from this opinion, but to the end
+that no great legal wisdom may be thrown away, he orders the accused to
+be sent to the common jail for three months. This, in the opinion of
+Judge Sleepyhorn, is an extremely mild penalty for being found sleeping
+in the market.
+
+Next there comes forward a lean, up-country Cracker, (an half-civilized
+native,) who commences telling his story with commendable simplicity,
+the Judge in the meanwhile endeavoring to suppress a smile, which the
+quaintness of his remarks excite. Making a tenement of his cart, as is
+usual with these people when they visit the city, which they do now and
+then for the purpose of replenishing their stock of whiskey, he had,
+about eleven o'clock on the previous night, been set upon by three
+intoxicated students, who, having driven off his mule, overturned his
+cart, landing him and his wife prostrate in the ditch. A great noise was
+the result, and the guard, with their accustomed zeal for seizing upon
+the innocent party, dragged up the weaker (the Cracker and his wife) and
+let the guilty go free. He had brought the good wife, he added, as a
+living evidence of the truth of what he said, and would bring the mule
+if his honor was not satisfied. The good wife commences a volley of what
+she is pleased to call voluntary testimony, praising and defending all
+the good qualities of her much-abused husband, without permitting any
+one else an opposing word. No sufficient charge being brought against
+the Cracker (he wisely slipped a five dollar bill into the hands of
+Stubbs), he joins his good wife and goes on his way rejoicing.
+
+During this little episode between the court and the Cracker's wife,
+Madame Grace Ashley, arrayed in her most fashionable toilet, comes
+blazing into Court, bows to the Judge and a few of her most select
+friends of the Bar. A seat for Madame is provided near his Honor's desk.
+His Honor's blushes seem somewhat overtaxed; Madame, on the other hand,
+is not at all disconcerted; indeed, she claims an extensive acquaintance
+with the most distinguished of the Bar.
+
+The Judge suggests to Mr. Stubbs that it would be as well to waive the
+charge against the clergyman. Somewhat the worse for his night in the
+guard-house, Parson Patterson comes forward and commences in the most
+unintelligible manner to explain the whole affair, when the Judge very
+blandly interrupts by inquiring if he is a member of the clergy at this
+moment. "Welle," returns the parson, with characteristic drawl, "can't
+zactly say I am." The natural seediness of the parson excites suspicion,
+nevertheless he is scrupulous of his white cravat, and preserves withal
+a strictly clerical aspect. Having paused a few moments and exchanged
+glances with the Judge, he continues: "I do nigger preaching on
+Sunday--that is (Parson Patterson corrects himself), I hold forth, here
+and there--we are all flesh and blood--on plantations when I have a
+demand for my services. Our large planters hold it good policy to
+encourage the piety of their property."
+
+"You make a good thing of it?" inquires the Judge, jocosely. The parson
+replies, with much meekness of manner, that business is not so good as
+it was, planters having got it into their heads that sermons can be got
+at a very low figure. Here he commences to explain his singular
+position. He happened to meet an old and much-esteemed friend, whom he
+accompanied home, and while spending the evening conversing on
+spiritual matters--it was best not to lie--he took a little too much. On
+his way to the hotel he selected Beresford street as a short cut, and
+being near the house where he was unfortunately found when the shooting
+took place, he ran into it to escape the police--
+
+"Don't believe a word he says," interrupts Madame Ashley, springing
+suddenly to her feet, and commencing to pour out her phials of wrath on
+the head of the poor parson, whom she accuses of being a suspicious and
+extremely unprofitable frequenter of her house, which she describes as
+exceedingly respectable. "Your Honor can bear me out in what I say!"
+pursues Madame, bowing with an air of exultation, as the sheriff demands
+order.
+
+"A sorry lot, these plantation preachers! Punish him right soundly, your
+honor. It is not the first time he has damaged the respectability of my
+house!" again interrupts Madame Ashley. His Honor replies only with a
+blush. Mr. Snivel, who watches with quisical countenance, over the bar,
+enjoys the joke wonderfully.
+
+Order being restored, the Judge turns to address the parson.
+
+"I see, my friend--I always address my prisoners familiarly--you place
+but little value on the fact of your being a clergyman, on the ground
+that you only preach to slaves. This charge brought against you is a
+grave one--I assure you! And I cannot incline to the view you take of
+your profession. I may not be as erudite as some; however, I hold it
+that the ignorant and not the learned have most need of good example."
+
+"Aye! I always told the old reprobate so," interposes Madam Ashley, with
+great fervor.
+
+"A charge," resumes the Judge, "quite sufficient to warrant me in
+committing you to durance vile, might be preferred. You may thank my
+generosity that it is not. These houses, as you know, Mr. Patterson, are
+not only dangerous, but damaging to men of potent morality like you."
+
+"But, your Honor knows, they are much frequented," meekly drawls the
+parson.
+
+"It affords no palliation," sharply responds the Judge, his face
+crimsoning with blushes. "Mark ye, my friend of the clergy, these places
+make sad destruction of our young men. Indeed I may say with becoming
+sincerity and truth, that they spread a poison over the community, and
+act as the great enemy of our social system."
+
+"Heigh ho!" ejaculates Madame Ashley, to the great delight of the throng
+assembled, "Satan has come to rebuke sin." Madame bids his Honor a very
+polite good morning, and takes her departure, looking disdainfully over
+her shoulder as she disappears out of the door.
+
+Not a little disturbed in his equanimity, the Judge pursues his charge.
+"The clergy ought to keep their garments clear of such places, for being
+the source of all evil, the effect on the community is not good--I mean
+when such things are brought to light! I would address you frankly and
+admonish you to go no more into such places. Let your ways merit the
+approbation of those to whom you preach the Gospel. You can go.
+Henceforth, live after the ways of the virtuous."
+
+Parson Patterson thanks his Honor, begs to assure him of his innocence,
+and seems only too anxious to get away. His Honor bows to Mr. Patterson,
+Mr. Patterson returns it, and adds another for the audience, whereupon
+the court adjourns, and so ends the episode. His Honor takes Mr.
+Snivel's arm, and together they proceed to the "most convenient" saloon,
+where, over a well-compounded punch, "the bench and the bar" compliment
+each other on the happy disposal of such vexatious cases.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+THE HOUSE OF THE NINE NATIONS, AND WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN IT.
+
+
+On the corner of Anthony street and the Points,[4] in New-York, there
+stands, like a grim savage, the house of the Nine Nations, a dingy
+wooden tenement, that for twenty years has threatened to tumble away
+from its more upright neighbor, and before which the stranger wayfarer
+is seen to stop and contemplate. In a neighborhood redolent of crime,
+there it stands, its vices thick upon its head, exciting in the mind of
+the observer its association with some dark and terrible deed. On the
+one side, opens that area of misery, mud and sombre walls, called "Cow
+Bay;" on the other a triangular plot, reeking with the garbage of the
+miserable cellars that flank it, and in which swarms of wasting beings
+seek a hiding-place, inhale pestilential air, and die. Gutters running
+with seething matter; homeless outcasts sitting, besotted, on crazy
+doorsteps; the vicious, with savage visage, and keen, watchful eye,
+loitering at the doors of filthy "groceries;" the sickly and neglected
+child crawling upon the side-pave, or seeking a crust to appease its
+hunger--all are found here, gasping, in rags, a breath of air by day, or
+seeking a shelter, at night, in dens so abject that the world can
+furnish no counterpart. And this forlorn picture of dilapidated houses,
+half-clad, squabbish women, blistered-faced men, and sickly children,
+the house of the Nine Nations overlooks. And yet this house, to the
+disgrace of an opulent people be it said, is but the sample of an
+hundred others standing in the same neighborhood.
+
+[Footnote 4: Now Worth street and Mission Place.]
+
+With its basement-doors opening into its bottomless pit; with its
+continual outgoing and ingoing of sooty and cruel-visaged denizens; with
+its rickety old steps leading to the second story; with its battered
+windows, begrimed walls, demolished shutters, clapboards hanging at
+sixes and sevens--with its suspicious aspect;--there it stands, with its
+distained sign over the doors of its bottomless pit. You may read on
+this sign, that a gentleman from Ireland, who for convenience' sake we
+will call Mr. Krone, is licensed to sell imported and other liquors.
+
+Indeed the house of the Nine Nations would seem to say within itself: "I
+am mother of this banquet of death you behold with your eyes." There it
+stands, its stream of poison hurrying its victims to the grave; its
+little dark passages leading to curious hiding-places; its caving roof,
+and its ominous-looking back platform, overlooking the dead walls of
+Murderers' Yard. How it mocks your philanthropy, your regal edifices,
+your boasted charities--your gorgeous churches! Everybody but the
+corporation knows the house of the Nine Nations, a haunt for wasted
+prostitutes, assassins, burglars, thieves--every grade of criminals
+known to depraved nature. The corporation would seem either to have a
+charming sympathy for it, or to look upon it with that good-natured
+indifference so happily illustrated while eating its oysters and
+drinking its whiskey. An empty-headed corporation is sure always to
+have its hands very full, which is the case with yours at this moment.
+Having the people's money to waste, its own ambition to serve, and its
+hat to fill with political waste paper--what more would you ask of it?
+
+The man of the house of the Nine Nations, you ought to know, makes
+criminals by the hundred, deluges your alms houses with paupers, and
+makes your Potters' field reek with his victims: for this he is become
+rich. Mr. Krone is an intimate friend of more than one Councilman, and a
+man of much measure in the political world--that is, Mr. Krone is a
+politician-maker. When you say there exists too close an intimacy
+between the pugilist and the politician, Mr. Krone will bet twenty
+drinks with any one of his customers that he can prove such doctrines at
+fault. He can secure the election of his favorite candidate with the
+same facility that he can make an hundred paupers per week. You may well
+believe him a choice flower in the bouquet of the corporation; we mean
+the corporation that banquets and becomes jubilant while assassins stab
+their victims in the broad street--that becomes befogged while bands of
+ruffians disgrace the city with their fiendish outrages--that makes
+presidents and drinks whiskey when the city would seem given over to the
+swell-mobsman--when no security is offered to life, and wholesale
+harlotry, flaunting with naked arms and bared bosoms, passes along in
+possession of Broadway by night.
+
+It is the night succeeding the day Lady Swiggs discovered, at the house
+of the Foreign Missions, the loss of her cherished donations. As this is
+a world of disappointments, Lady Swiggs resigns herself to this most
+galling of all, and with her Milton firmly grasped in her hand, may be
+seen in a little room at Sister Scudder's, rocking herself in the
+arm-chair, and wondering if Brother Spyke has captured the
+robber-wretch. A chilly wind howls, and a drizzling rain falls thick
+over the dingy dwellings of the Points, which, sullen and dark, seem in
+a dripping mood. A glimmering light, here and there, throws curious
+shadows over the liquid streets. Now the drenched form of some
+half-naked and homeless being is reflected, standing shivering in the
+entrance to some dark and narrow alley; then the half-crazed inebriate
+hurries into the open door of a dismal cellar, or seeks eagerly a
+shelter for his bewildered head, in some suspicious den. Flashing
+through the shadow of the police lamp, in "Cow Bay," a forlorn female is
+seen, a bottle held tightly under her shawl. Sailing as it were into the
+bottomless pit of the house of the Nine Nations, then suddenly returning
+with the drug, seeking the cheerless garret of her dissolute partner,
+and there striving to blunt her feelings against the horrors of
+starvation.
+
+Two men stand, an umbrella over their heads, at the corner, in the glare
+of the bottomless pit, which is in a blaze of light, and crowded with
+savage-faced figures, of various ages and colors,--all habited in the
+poison-seller's uniform of rags. "I don't think you'll find him here,
+sir," says one, addressing the other, who is tall and slender of person,
+and singularly timid. "God knows I am a stranger here. To-morrow I leave
+for Antioch," is the reply, delivered in nervous accents. The one is
+Brother Syngleton Spyke, the other Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, a man of
+more than middle stature, with compact figure, firmly-knit limbs, and an
+expression of countenance rather pleasant.
+
+"You see, sir, this Toddleworth is a harmless creature, always aims to
+be obliging and civil. I don't, sir--I really don't think he'll steal.
+But one can't tell what a man will do who is driven to such straits as
+the poor devils here are. We rather like Toddleworth at the station,
+look upon him as rather wanting in the head, and for that reason rather
+incline to favor him. I may say we now and then let him 'tie up' all
+night in the station. And for this he seems very thankful. I may say,"
+continues Mr. Fitzgerald, touching the visor of his cap, "that he always
+repays with kindness any little attention we may extend to him at the
+station, and at times seems too anxious to make it his home. We give him
+a shirt and a few shillings now and then; and when we want to be rid of
+him we begin to talk about fashionable wives. He is sure to go then.
+Can't stand such a topic, I assure you, sir, and is sure to go off in a
+huff when Sergeant Pottle starts it."
+
+They enter the great door of the bottomless pit; the young missionary
+hesitates. His countenance changes, his eyes scan steadily over the
+scene. A room some sixty feet by twenty opens to his astonished eyes.
+Its black, boarded walls, and bare beams, are enlivened here and there
+with extravagant pictures of notorious pugilists, show-bills, and
+illustrated advertisements of lascivious books, in which the murder of
+an unfortunate woman is the principal feature. Slippery mud covers the
+floor. Mr. Krone sits on an empty whiskey-barrel, his stunted features
+betraying the hardened avarice of his character. He smokes his black
+pipe, folds his arms deliberately, discoursing of the affairs of the
+nation to two stupefied negroes and one blear-eyed son of the Emerald
+Isle. Three uncouth females, with hair hanging matted over their faces,
+and their features hidden in distortion, stand cooling their bared limbs
+at a running faucet just inside the door, to the left. A group of
+half-naked negroes lie insensible on the floor, to the right. A little
+further on two prostrate females, shivering, and reeking of gin, sleep
+undisturbed by the profanity that is making the very air resound. "The
+gin gets a-many of us," is the mournful cry of many a wasting inebriate.
+Mr. Krone, however, will tell you he has no sympathy with such cries.
+You arraign, and perhaps punish, the apothecary who sells by mistake his
+deadly drug. With a philosophical air, Mr. Krone will tell you he deals
+out his poison without scruple, fills alms-houses without a pang of
+remorse, and proves that a politician-maker may do much to degrade
+society and remain in high favor with his friends of the bench of
+justice. On one side of the dungeon-like place stands a rickety old
+counter, behind which three savage-faced men stand, filling and serving
+incessant potions of deleterious liquor to the miserable beings, haggard
+and ragged, crowding to be first served. Behind the bar, or counter,
+rises a pyramid of dingy shelves, on which are arranged little painted
+kegs, labelled, and made bright by the glaring gas-light reflected upon
+them. On the opposite side, on rows of slab benches, sit a group of
+motley beings,--the young girl and the old man, the negro and the frail
+white,--half sleeping, half conscious; all imbibing the stifling
+draught.
+
+Like revelling witches in rags, and seen through the bedimmed atmosphere
+at the further end of the den, are half-frantic men, women, and girls,
+now sitting at deal tables, playing for drinks, now jostling, jeering,
+and profaning in wild disorder. A girl of sixteen, wasted and deformed
+with dissipation, approaches Brother Spyke, extends her blanched hand,
+and importunes him for gin. He shudders, and shrinks from her touch, as
+from a reptile. A look of scorn, and she turns from him, and is lost
+among the grotesque crowd in the distance.
+
+"This gin," says Mr. Fitzgerald, turning methodically to Brother Spyke,
+"they make do for food and clothing. We used to call this the devil's
+paradise. As to Krone, we used to call him the devil's bar-tender. These
+ragged revellers, you see, beg and steal during the day, and get gin
+with it at night. Krone thinks nothing of it! Lord bless your soul, sir!
+why, this man is reckoned a tip-top politician; on an emergency he can
+turn up such a lot of votes!" Mr. Fitzgerald, approaching Mr. Krone,
+says "you're a pretty fellow. Keeping such a place as this!" The
+detective playfully strikes the hat of the other, crowding it over his
+eyes, and inquiring if he has seen Tom Toddleworth during the day. Mr.
+Toddleworth was not seen during the day. No one in the bottomless pit
+knows where he may be found. A dozen husky voices are heard to say, he
+has no home--stores himself away anywhere, and may be found everywhere.
+
+Brother Spyke bows, and sighs. Mr. Fitzgerald says: "he is always
+harmless--this Toddleworth." As the two searchers are about to withdraw,
+the shrunken figure of a woman rushes wildly into the pit. "Devils!
+devils!--hideous devils of darkness! here you are--still
+hover--hover--hovering; turning midnight into revelling, day into horrid
+dreaming!" she shrieks at the top of her voice. Now she pauses suddenly,
+and with a demoniacal laugh sets her dull, glassy eyes on Mr. Krone,
+then walks round him with clenched fists and threatening gestures. The
+politician-maker sits unmoved. Now she throws her hair about her bare
+breasts, turns her eyes upward, imploringly, and approaches Brother
+Spyke, with hand extended. Her tale of sorrow and suffering is written
+in her very look. "She won't hurt you--never harms anybody;" says Mr.
+Fitzgerald, methodically, observing Brother Spyke's timidity.
+
+"No, no, no," she mutters incoherently, "you are not of this place--you
+know, like the rich world up-town, little of these revelling devils.
+Cling! yes, cling to the wise one--tell him to keep you from this, and
+forever be your teacher. Tell him! tell him! oh! tell him!" She wrings
+her hands, and having sailed as it were into the further end of the pit,
+vaults back, and commences a series of wild gyrations round Mr. Krone.
+
+"Poor wretch!" says Brother Spyke, complacently, "the gin has dried up
+her senses--made her what she is."
+
+"Maniac Munday! Maniac Munday!" suddenly echoes and re-echoes through
+the pit. She turns her ear, and with a listless countenance listens
+attentively, then breaks out into an hysterical laugh. "Yes! ye
+loathsome denizens. Like me, no one seeks you, no one cares for you. I
+am poor, poor maniac Munday. The maniac that one fell error brought to
+this awful end." Again she lowers her voice, flings her hair back over
+her shoulders, and gives vent to her tears. Like one burdened with
+sorrow she commences humming an air, that even in this dark den floats
+sweetly through the polluted atmosphere. "Well, I am what I am," she
+sighs, having paused in her tune. "That one fatal step--that plighted
+faith! How bitter to look back." Her bony fingers wander to her lips,
+which she commences biting and fretting, as her countenance becomes pale
+and corpse-like. Again her reason takes its flight. She staggers to the
+drenched counter, holds forth her bottle, lays her last sixpence
+tauntingly upon the board, and watches with glassy eyes the drawing of
+the poisonous drug. Meanwhile Mr. Krone, with an imprecation, declares
+he has power to elect his candidate to the Senate. The man behind the
+counter--the man of savage face, has filled the maniac's bottle, which
+he pushes toward her with one hand, as with the other he sweeps her coin
+into a drawer. "Oh! save poor maniac Munday--save poor maniac Munday!"
+the woman cries, like one in despair, clutching the bottle, and reels
+out of the pit.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+IN WHICH IS PRESENTED ANOTHER PICTURE OF THE HOUSE OF THE NINE NATIONS.
+
+
+Pale and hesitating, Brother Spyke says: "I have no passion for delving
+into such places; and having seen enough for one night, am content to
+leave the search for this vile old man to you." The valiant missionary
+addresses Mr. Fitzgerald, who stands with one foot upon the rickety old
+steps that lead to the second story of the House of the Nine Nations.
+
+This morning, Brother Spyke was ready to do battle with the whole
+heathen world, to drag it up into light, to evangelize it. Now he quails
+before this heathen world, so terribly dark, at his own door.
+
+"You have, sir," says the detective, "seen nuthin' as yet. The sights
+are in these 'ere upper dens; but, I may say it, a body wants nerve.
+Some of our Aldermen say ye can't see such sights nowhere else."
+
+The missionary replies, holding tenaciously to his umbrella, "That may
+be true; but I fear they will be waiting me at home." Again he scans
+inquiringly into the drenched area of the Points; then bidding the
+officer good-night, is soon out of sight, on his way into Centre Street.
+Reaching the old stoop, the detective touches a spring, and the
+shattered door opens into a narrow, gloomy passage, along which he
+gropes his way, over a floor cobbled with filth, and against an
+atmosphere thick of disease. Now a faint light flashes through a crevice
+in the left wall, plays fantastically upon the black surface of the
+opposite, then dies away. The detective lights his lantern, stands a
+moment with his ear turned, as if listening to the revelry in the
+bottomless pit. A door opens to his touch, he enters a cave-like
+room--it is the one from out which the light stole so curiously, and in
+which all is misery and sadness. A few embers still burn in a great
+brick fireplace, shedding a lurid glow over the damp, filthy walls, the
+discolored ceiling, and the grotesque group upon the floor. "You needn't
+come at this time of night--we are all honest people;" speaks a massive
+negro, of savage visage, who (he is clothed in rags) sits at the left
+side of the fireplace. He coaxes the remnant of his fire to cook some
+coarse food he has placed in a small, black stew-pan, he watches with
+steady gaze. Three white females (we blush to say it), their bare,
+brawny arms resting on their knees, and their disfigured faces drooped
+into their hands, form an half circle on the opposite side.
+
+"The world don't think nothin' of us down here--we haven't had a bite to
+eat to-night," gruffly resumes the negro.
+
+"May them that have riches enjoy them, for to be supperless is no
+uncommon thing wid us," interrupts one of the women, gathering about her
+the shreds of her tattered garment, parting the matted hair over her
+face, and revealing her ghastly features. The detective turns his light
+full upon her. "If we live we live, if we die we die--nobody cares! Look
+you yonder, Mr. Fitzgerald," continues the negro, with a sarcastic leer.
+Turning his light to where the negro points, the detective casts a
+glance into the shadow, and there discovers the rags move. A dozen pair
+of glassy eyes are seen peering from out the filthy coverings, over
+which lean arms and blanched hands keep up an incessant motion. Here an
+emaciated and heart-sick Welsh girl, of thirteen (enciente) lays
+shivering on the broken floor; there an half-famished Scotch woman, two
+moaning children nestling at her heart, suffers uncovered upon a pallet
+of straw. The busy world without would seem not to have a care for her;
+the clergy have got the heathen world upon their shoulders. Hunger, like
+a grim tyrant, has driven her to seek shelter in this wretched abode.
+Despair has made her but too anxious that the grave or prison walls
+should close the record of her sorrows. How tightly she with her right
+hand presses her babe to her bosom; how appealingly with her left she
+asks a pittance of the detective! Will he not save from death her
+starving child? He has nothing to give her, turns his head, answers only
+with a look of pity, and moves slowly towards the door.
+
+"You have not been long off the Island, Washington?" inquires the
+detective, with an air of familiarity.
+
+"I wish," replies the negro, sullenly, "I was back. An honest man as I
+is, can't get on in this world. Necessity makes rascals of better men
+than me, Mr. Fitzgerald. Mr. Krone (he's a white man, though) makes all
+the politicians for the district, and charges me eight dollars a month
+for this hole. Just measure them two things together, Mr. Fitzgerald;
+then see if takin' in sixpenny, lodgers pays." Mr. Fitzgerald commences
+counting them. "You needn't count," pursues the negro, uncovering his
+stew-pan, "there's only eighteen in to-night. Have twenty, sometimes!
+Don't get nothin' for that poor Scotch woman an' her children. Can't
+get it when they hain't got it--you know that, Mr. Fitzgerald."
+
+The detective inquires if any of them have seen Mr. Toddleworth to-day.
+Washington has not seen him, and makes no scruple of saying he thinks
+very little of him.
+
+"Faith an' it's hard times with poor Tom," speaks up one of the women,
+in a deep brogue. "It was only last night--the same I'm tellin' is true,
+God knows--Mrs. McCarty took him to the Rookery--the divil a mouthful
+he'd ate durin' the day--and says, bein' a ginerous sort of body, come,
+take a drop, an' a bite to ate. Mister Toddleworth did that same, and
+thin lay the night on the floor. To-night--it's the truth, God
+knows--Tom Downey took him above. An' it's Tom who woundn't be the frind
+of the man who hadn't a shillin' in his pocket."
+
+The detective shrugs his shoulders, and having thanked the woman,
+withdraws into the passage, to the end of which he cautiously picks his
+way, and knocks at a distained door that fronts him. A voice deep and
+husky bids him enter, which he does, as the lurid glare of his lantern
+reveals a room some twelve by sixteen feet, the plaster hanging in
+festoons from the black walls, and so low of ceiling that he scarce can
+stand upright. Four bunk-beds, a little bureau, a broken chair or two,
+and a few cheap pictures, hung here and there on the sombre walls, give
+it an air of comfort in grateful contrast with the room just left. "Who
+lives here?" inquires the detective, turning his light full upon each
+object that attracts his attention. "Shure it's only me--Mrs. Terence
+Murphy--and my three sisters (the youngest is scarce fourteen), and the
+two English sisters: all honest people, God knows," replies Mrs. Murphy,
+with a rapid tongue.
+
+"It's not right of you to live this way," returns the detective,
+continuing to survey the prostrate forms of Mrs. Murphy, her three
+sisters, and the two fair-haired English girls, and the besotted beings
+they claim as husbands. Alarm is pictured in every countenance. A
+browned face withdraws under a dingy coverlid, an anxious face peers
+from out a pallet on the floor, a prostrate figure in the corner
+inquires the object of Mr. Detective Fitzgerald's visit--and Mrs.
+Murphy, holding it more becoming of respectable society, leaves the bed
+in which she had accommodated five others, and gets into one she calls
+her own. A second thought, and she makes up her mind not to get into
+bed, but to ask Mr. Fitzgerald if he will be good enough, when next he
+meets his Onher, the Mayor, just to say to him how Mr. Krone is bringing
+disgrace upon the house and every one in it, by letting rooms to
+negroes. Here she commences pouring out her pent-up wrath upon the head
+of Mr. Krone, and the colored gentleman, whom she declares has a dozen
+white females in his room every night. The detective encourages her by
+saying it is not right of Mr. Krone, who looks more at the color of his
+money than the skin of his tenants. "To come of a dacint family--and be
+brought to this!" says Mrs. Murphy, allowing her passion to rise, and
+swearing to have revenge of the negro in the next room.
+
+"You drink this gin, yet--I have warned you against it," interposes the
+detective, pointing to some bottles on the bureau. "Faith, an' it's the
+gin gets a many of us," returns the woman, curtly, as she gathers about
+her the skirts of her garments. "Onyhow, yerself wouldn't deprive us of
+a drop now and then, jist to keep up the spirits." The detective shakes
+his head, then discloses to them the object of his search, adding, in
+parenthesis, that he does not think Mr. Toddleworth is the thief. A
+dozen tongues are ready to confirm the detective's belief. "Not a
+shillin' of it did the poor crature take--indeed he didn't, now, Mr.
+Fitzgerald. 'Onor's 'onor, all over the wurld!" says Mrs. Murphy,
+grasping the detective by the hand. "Stay till I tell ye all about it.
+Mary Maguire--indeed an' ye knows her, Mr. Fitzgerald--this same
+afternoon looked in to say--'how do ye do, Mrs. Murphy. See this! Mrs.
+Murphy,' says she, 'an' the divil a sich a pocket of money I'd see
+before, as she held in her right hand, jist. 'Long life to ye, Mary,'
+says I. 'We'll have a pint, Mrs. Murphy,' says she. 'May ye niver want
+the worth of it,' says I. And the pint was not long in, when Mary got a
+little the worse of it, and let all out about the money. 'You won't
+whisper it, Mrs. Murphy,' says she, 'if I'd tell ye in confidence by
+what manes I got the lift?'"
+
+"'Not in the wide world, Mary,' says I; 'ye may trust me for that same.'
+'Shure didn't I raise it from the pocket of an auld woman in spectacles,
+that watched the fool beyant dig up the corporation.' 'An' it'll not do
+yerself much good,' says I, liftin' the same, and cuttin' away to the
+house. 'You won't whisper it?' says she."
+
+"I can confirm the truth of that same," rejoins a brusque-figured man,
+rising from his pallet, and speaking with regained confidence. "Mary
+looked in at the Blazers, and being the worse of liquor, showed a dale
+of ready money, and trated everybody, and gave the money to everybody,
+and was wilcome wid everybody. Then Mrs. McCarty got aboard of her
+ginerosity, and got her into the Rookery, where the Miss McCartys
+thought it would not be amiss to have a quart. The same was brought in,
+and Mary hersel' was soon like a dead woman on the floor, jist--"
+
+"And they got the money all away?" interrupts the detective.
+
+"Faith, an' she'll not have a blessed dollar come daylight," continues
+the man, resuming his pallet.
+
+The detective bids Mrs. Murphy good night, and is soon groping his way
+over a rickety old floor, along a dark, narrow passage, scarce high
+enough to admit him, and running at right angles with the first. A door
+on the left opens into a grotto-like place, the sickly atmosphere of
+which seems hurling its poison into the very blood. "Who's here?"
+inquires the detective, and a voice, feeble and hollow, responds:
+"Lodgers!"
+
+The damp, greasy walls; the broken ceilings; the sooty fireplace, with
+its shattered bricks; the decayed wainscoating--its dark, forlorn
+aspect, all bespeak it the fit abode of rats. And yet Mr. Krone thinks
+it comfortable enough (the authorities think Mr. Krone the best judge)
+for the accommodation of thirteen remnants of human misery, all of whom
+are here huddled together on the wet, broken floor, borrowing warmth of
+one another. The detective's light falls curiously upon the dread
+picture, which he stands contemplating. A pale, sickly girl, of some
+eleven summers, her hair falling wildly over her wan features, lays upon
+some rags near the fireplace, clinging to an inebriated mother. Here a
+father, heart-sick and prostrate with disease, seeks to keep warm his
+three ragged children, nestling about him. An homeless outcast,
+necessity forces him to send them out to prey upon the community by day,
+and to seek in this wretched hovel a shelter at night. Yonder the rags
+are thrown back, a moving mass is disclosed, and there protrudes a
+disfigured face, made ghostly by the shadow of the detective's lantern.
+At the detective's feet a prostrate girl, insensible of gin, is seized
+with convulsions, clutches with wasted hands at the few rags about her
+poor, flabby body, then with fingers grasping, and teeth firmly set, her
+whole frame writhes in agony. Your missionary never whispered a kind,
+encouraging word in her ear; his hand never pressed that blanched bone
+with which she now saddens your heart! Different might it have been with
+her had some gentle-tongued Brother Spyke sought her out, bore patiently
+with her waywardness, snatched her from this life of shame, and placed
+her high in an atmosphere of light and love.
+
+It is here, gentle shepherds, the benighted stand most in need of your
+labors. Seek not to evangelize the Mahomedan world until you have worked
+a reform here; and when you have done it, a monument in heaven will be
+your reward.
+
+"Mr. Toddleworth is not here," says the detective, withdrawing into the
+passage, then ascending a broken and steep stairs that lead into the
+third story. Nine shivering forms crouched in one dismal room; four
+squabbish women, and three besotted men in another; and in a third, nine
+ragged boys and two small girls--such are the scenes of squalid misery
+presented here. In a little front room, Mr. Tom Downey, his wife, and
+eight children, lay together upon the floor, half covered with rags. Mr.
+Downey startles at the appearance of the detective, rises nervously from
+his pallet, and after the pause of a moment, says: "Indeed, yer welcome,
+Mr. Fitzgerald. Indeed, I have not--an' God knows it's the truth I
+tell--seen Mr. Toddleworth the week;" he replies, in answer to a
+question from the detective.
+
+"You took a drop with him this afternoon?" continues the detective,
+observing his nervousness.
+
+"God knows it's a mistake, Mr. Fitzgerald." Mr. Downey changes the
+subject, by saying the foreigners in the garret are a great nuisance,
+and disturb him of his rest at night.
+
+A small, crooked stair leads into "Organ-grinders' Roost," in the
+garret. To "Organ-grinders' Roost" the detective ascends. If, reader,
+you have ever pictured in your mind the cave of despair, peopled by
+beings human only in shape, you may form a faint idea of the
+wretchedness presented in "Organ-grinders' Roost," at the top of the
+house of the Nine Nations. Seven stalworth men shoot out from among a
+mass of rags on the floor, and with dark, wandering eyes, and massive,
+uncombed beards, commence in their native Italian a series of
+interrogatories, not one of which the detective can understand. They
+would inquire for whom he seeks at this strange hour. He (the detective)
+stands unmoved, as with savage gesture--he has discovered his star--they
+tell him they are famishing of hunger. A pretty black-eyed girl, to
+whose pale, but beautifully oval face an expression of sorrow lends a
+touching softness, lays on the bare floor, beside a mother of
+patriarchal aspect. Now she is seized with a sharp cough that brings
+blood at every paroxysm. As if forgetting herself, she lays her hand
+gently upon the cheek of her mother, anxious to comfort her. Ah! the
+hard hand of poverty has been upon her through life, and stubbornly
+refuses to relax its grip, even in her old age. An organ forms here and
+there a division between the sleepers; two grave-visaged monkeys sit
+chattering in the fireplace, then crouch down on the few charred sticks.
+A picture of the crucifix is seen conspicuous over the dingy fireplace,
+while from the slanting roof hang several leathern girdles. Oh, what a
+struggle for life is their's! Mothers, fathers, daughters, and little
+children, thus promiscuously grouped, and coming up in neglect and
+shame. There an old man, whom remorseless death is just calling into
+eternity, with dull, glassy eyes, white, flowing beard, bald head,
+sunken mouth, begrimed and deeply-wrinkled face, rises, spectre-like,
+from his pallet. Now he draws from his breast a small crucifix, and
+commences muttering to it in a guttural voice. "Peace, peace, good old
+man--the holy father will come soon--the holy virgin will come soon: he
+will receive the good spirit to his bosom," says a black-eyed daughter,
+patting him gently upon the head, then looking in his face solicitously,
+as he turns his eyes upward, and for a few moments seems invoking the
+mercy of the Allwise. "Yes, father," she resumes, lightening up the mat
+of straw upon which he lays, "the world has been unkind to you, but you
+are passing from it to a better--you will be at peace soon."
+
+"Soon, soon, soon," mumbles the old man, in a whisper; and having
+carefully returned the crucifix to his bosom, grasps fervently the hand
+of the girl and kisses it, as her eyes swim in tears.
+
+Such, to the shame of those who live in princely palaces, and revel in
+luxury, are but faintly-drawn pictures of what may be seen in the house
+of the Nine Nations.
+
+The detective is about to give up the search, and turns to descend the
+stairs, when suddenly he discerns a passage leading to the north end of
+the garret. Here, in a little closet-like room, on the right, the rats
+his only companions, lies the prostrate form of poor Toddleworth.
+
+"Well, I persevered till I found you," says the detective, turning his
+light full upon the body. Another minute, and his features become as
+marble; he stands aghast, and his whole frame seems struggling under the
+effect of some violent shock. "What, what, what!" he shouts, in nervous
+accents, "Murder! murder! murder! some one has murdered him." Motionless
+the form lies, the shadow of the light revealing the ghastly spectacle.
+The head lies in a pool of blood, the bedimmed eyes, having taken their
+last look, remain fixedly set on the black roof. "He has died of a
+blow--of a broken skull!" says the frightened official, feeling, and
+feeling, and pressing the arms and hands that are fast becoming rigid.
+Life is gone out; a pauper's grave will soon close over what remains of
+this wretched outcast. The detective hastens down stairs, spreads the
+alarm over the neighborhood, and soon the House of the Nine Nations is
+the scene of great excitement.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+IN WHICH MAY BE SEEN A FEW OF OUR COMMON EVILS.
+
+
+Leaving for a time the scenes in the House of the Nine Nations, let us
+return to Charleston, that we may see how matters appertaining to this
+history are progressing. Mr. Snivel is a popular candidate for the
+Senate of South Carolina; and having shot his man down in the street,
+the question of his fighting abilities we regard as honorably settled.
+Madame Montford, too, has by him been kept in a state of nervous
+anxiety, for he has not yet found time to search in the "Poor-house for
+the woman Munday." All our very first, and best-known families, have
+dropped Madame, who is become a wet sheet on the fashionable world. A
+select committee of the St. Cecilia has twice considered her expulsion,
+while numerous very respectable and equally active old ladies have been
+shaking their scandal-bags at her head. Sins have been laid at her door
+that would indeed damage a reputation with a fairer endorsement than New
+York can give.
+
+Our city at this moment is warmed into a singular state of excitement. A
+Georgia editor (we regard editors as belonging to a very windy class of
+men), not having the mightiness of our chivalry before him, said the
+Union would have peace if South Carolina were shut up in a penitentiary.
+And for this we have invited the indiscreet gentleman to step over the
+border, that we may hang him, being extremely fond of such common-place
+amusements. What the facetious fellow meant was, that our own State
+would enjoy peace and prosperity were our mob-politicians all in the
+penitentiary. And with this sensible opinion we heartily agree.
+
+We regard our state of civilization as extremely enviable. To-day we
+made a lion of the notorious Hines, the forger. Hines, fashioning after
+our hapless chivalry, boasts that South Carolina is his State--his
+political mother. He has, nevertheless, graced with his presence no few
+penitentiaries. We feasted him in that same prison where we degrade and
+starve the honest poor; we knew him guilty of an heinous crime--yet we
+carried him jubilantly to the "halls of justice." And while
+distinguished lawyers tendered their services to the "clever villain,"
+you might have witnessed in sorrow a mock trial, and heard a mob
+sanction with its acclamations his release.
+
+Oh, truth and justice! how feeble is thy existence where the god slavery
+reigns. And while men are heard sounding the praises of this highwayman
+at the street corners, extolling men who have shot down their fellow-men
+in the streets, and calling those "Hon. gentlemen," who have in the most
+cowardly manner assassinated their opponents, let us turn to a different
+picture. Two genteely-dressed men are seen entering the old, jail. "I
+have twice promised them a happy surprise," says one, whose pale,
+studious features, wear an expression of gentleness. The face of the
+other is somewhat florid, but beaming with warmth of heart. They enter,
+having passed up one of the long halls, a room looking into the
+prison-yard. Several weary-faced prisoners are seated round a deal
+table, playing cards; among them is the old sailor described in the
+early part of this history. "You don't know my friend, here?" says the
+young man of the studious face, addressing the prisoners, and pointing
+to his companion. The prisoners look inquiringly at the stranger, then
+shake their heads in response.
+
+"No, you don't know me: you never knew me when I was a man," speaks the
+stranger, raising his hat, as a smile lights up his features. "You don't
+know Tom Swiggs, the miserable inebriate--"
+
+A spontaneous shout of recognition, echoing and reechoing through the
+old halls, interrupts this declaration. One by one the imprisoned men
+grasp him by the hand, and shower upon him the warmest, the heartiest
+congratulations. A once fallen brother has risen to a knowledge of his
+own happiness. Hands that raised him from that mat of straw, when the
+mental man seemed lost, now welcome him restored, a purer being.
+
+"Ah, Spunyarn," says Tom, greeting the old sailor with childlike
+fondness, as the tears are seen gushing into the eyes, and coursing down
+the browned face of the old mariner, "I owe you a debt I fear I never
+can pay. I have thought of you in my absence, and had hoped on my return
+to see you released. I am sorry you are not--"
+
+"Well, as to that," interrupts the old sailor, his face resuming its
+wonted calm, "I can't--you know I can't, Tom,--sail without a clearance.
+I sometimes think I'm never going to get one. Two years, as you know,
+I've been here, now backing and then filling, in and out, just as it
+suits that chap with the face like a snatch-block. They call him a
+justice. 'Pon my soul, Tom, I begin to think justice for us poor folks
+is got aground. Well, give us your hand agin' (he seizes Tom by the
+hand); its all well wi' you, anyhows.'
+
+"Yes, thank God," says Tom, returning his friendly shake, "I have
+conquered the enemy, and my thanks for it are due to those who reached
+my heart with kind words, and gave me a brother's hand. I was not dead
+to my own degradation; but imprisonment left me no hope. The sting of
+disappointment may pain your feelings; hope deferred may torture you
+here in a prison; the persecutions of enemies may madden your very soul;
+but when a mother turns coldly from you--No, I will not say it, for I
+love her still--" he hesitates, as the old sailor says, with touching
+simplicity, he never knew what it was to have a mother or father. Having
+spread before the old man and his companions sundry refreshments he had
+ordered brought in, and received in return their thanks, he inquires of
+Spunyarn how it happened that he got into prison, and how it is that he
+remains here a fixture.
+
+"I'll tell you, Tom," says the old sailor, commencing his story. "We'd
+just come ashore--had a rough passage--and, says I to myself, here's lay
+up ashore awhile. So I gets a crimp, who takes me to a crib. 'It's all
+right here--you'll have snug quarters, Jack,' says he, introducing me to
+the chap who kept it. I gives him twenty dollars on stack, and gets up
+my chest and hammock, thinking it was all fair and square. Then I meets
+an old shipmate, who I took in tow, he being hard ashore for cash. 'Let
+us top the meetin' with a glass,' says I. 'Agreed,' says Bill, and I
+calls her on, the very best. 'Ten cents a glass,' says the fellow behind
+the counter, giving us stuff that burnt as it went. 'Mister,' says I,
+'do ye want to poison a sailor?' 'If you no like him,' says he, 'go get
+better somewhere else.' I told him to give me back the twenty, and me
+dunnage.
+
+"'You don't get him--clear out of mine 'ouse,' says he.
+
+"'Under the peak,' says I, fetching him a but under the lug that beached
+him among his beer-barrels. He picked himself up, and began talking
+about a magistrate. And knowing what sort of navigation a fellow'd have
+in the hands of that sort of land-craft, I began to think about laying
+my course for another port. 'Hold on here,' says a big-sided
+land-lubber, seizing me by the fore-sheets. 'Cast off there,' says I,
+'or I'll put ye on yer beam-ends.'
+
+"'I'm a constable,' says he, pulling out a pair of irons he said must go
+on my hands."
+
+"I hope he did not put them on," interrupts the young theologian, for it
+is he who accompanies Tom.
+
+"Avast! I'll come to that. He said he'd only charge me five dollars for
+going to jail without 'em, so rather than have me calling damaged, I giv
+him it. It was only a trifle. 'Now, Jack,' says the fellow, as we went
+along, in a friendly sort of way, 'just let us pop in and see the
+justice. I think a ten 'll get ye a clearance.' 'No objection to that,'
+says I, and in we went, and there sat the justice, face as long and
+sharp as a marlinspike, in a dirty old hole, that looked like our
+forecastle. 'Bad affair this, Jack,' says he, looking up over his
+spectacles. 'You must be locked up for a year and a day, Jack.'
+
+"'You'll give a sailor a hearin', won't ye?' says I. 'As to that,--well,
+I don't know, Jack; you musn't break the laws of South Carolina when you
+get ashore. You seem like a desirable sailor, and can no doubt get a
+ship and good wages--this is a bad affair. However, as I'm not inclined
+to be hard, if you are disposed to pay twenty dollars, you can go.' 'Law
+and justice,' says I, shaking my fist at him--'do ye take this
+salt-water citizen for a fool?'
+
+"'Take him away, Mr. Stubble--lock him up!--lock him up!' says the
+justice, and here I am, locked up, hard up, hoping. I'd been tied up
+about three weeks when the justice looked in one day, and after
+inquiring for me, and saying, 'good morning, Jack,' and seeming a little
+by the head: 'about this affair of yourn, Jack,' says he, 'now, if
+you'll mind your eye when you get out--my trouble's worth ten
+dollars--and pay me, I'll discharge you, and charge the costs to the
+State.'
+
+"'Charge the cost to the State!' says I. 'Do you take Spunyarn for a
+marine?' At this he hauled his wind, and stood out."
+
+"You have had a hearing before the Grand Jury, have you not?" inquires
+Tom, evincing a deep interest in the story of his old friend.
+
+"Not I. This South Carolina justice is a hard old craft to sail in. The
+Grand Jury only looks in once every six months, and then looks out
+again, without inquiring who's here. And just before the time it comes
+round, I'm shuffled out, and just after it has left, I'm shuffled in
+again--fees charged to the State! That's it. So here I am, a fee-making
+machine, bobbing in and out of jail to suit the conveniences of Mister
+Justice. I don't say this with any ill will--I don't." Having concluded
+his story, the old sailor follows his visitors to the prison gate, takes
+an affectionate leave of Tom Swiggs, and returns to join his companions.
+On the following day, Tom intercedes with Mr. Snivel, for it is he who
+thus harvests fees of the State by retaining the old sailor in prison,
+and procures his release. And here, in Mr. Snivel, you have an
+instrument of that debased magistracy which triumphs over the weak, that
+sits in ignorance and indolence, that invests the hypocritical designer
+with a power almost absolute, that keeps justice muzzled on her
+throne--the natural offspring of that demon-making institution that
+scruples not to brunt the intellect of millions, while dragging a pall
+of sloth over the land.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+CONTAINING VARIOUS THINGS APPERTAINING TO THIS HISTORY.
+
+
+Maria McArthur having, by her womanly sympathy, awakened the generous
+impulses of Tom Swiggs, he is resolved they shall have a new channel for
+their action. Her kindness touched his heart; her solicitude for his
+welfare gained his affections, and a recognition of that love she so
+long and silently cherished for him, is the natural result. The heart
+that does not move to woman's kindness, must indeed be hard. But there
+were other things which strengthened Tom's affections for Maria. The
+poverty of her aged father; the insults offered her by Keepum and
+Snivel; the manner in which they sought her ruin while harassing her
+father; the artlessness and lone condition of the pure-minded girl; and
+the almost holy affection evinced for the old man on whom she doted--all
+tended to bring him nearer and nearer to her, until he irresistibly
+found himself at her feet, pledging that faith lovers call eternal.
+Maria is not of that species of being the world calls beautiful; but
+there is about her something pure, thoughtful, even noble; and this her
+lone condition heightens. Love does not always bow before beauty. The
+singularities of human nature are most strikingly blended in woman. She
+can overcome physical defects; she can cultivate attractions most
+appreciated by those who study her worth deepest. Have you not seen
+those whose charms at first-sight found no place in your thoughts, but
+as you were drawn nearer and nearer to them, so also did your esteem
+quicken, and that esteem, almost unconsciously, you found ripening into
+affection, until in turn you were seized with an ardent passion? You
+have. And you have found yourself enamored of the very one against whom
+you had endeavored most to restrain your generous impulses. Like the
+fine lines upon a picture with a repulsive design, you trace them, and
+recur to them until your admiration is carried away captive. So it is
+with woman's charms. Tom Swiggs, then, the restored man, bows before the
+simple goodness of the daughter of the old Antiquary.
+
+Mr. Trueman, the shipowner, gave Tom employment, and has proved a friend
+to him. Tom, in turn, has so far gained his confidence and respect that
+Mr. Trueman contemplates sending him to London, on board one of his
+ships. Nor has Tom forgotten to repay the old Antiquary, who gave him a
+shelter when he was homeless; this home is still under the roof of the
+old man, toward whose comfort he contributes weekly a portion of his
+earnings. If you could but look into that little back-parlor, you would
+see a picture of humble cheerfulness presented in the old man, his
+daughter, and Tom Swiggs, seated round the tea-table. Let us, however,
+turn and look into one of our gaudy saloons, that we may see how
+different a picture is presented there.
+
+It is the night previous to an election for Mayor. Leaden clouds hang
+threatening over the city; the gas-light throws out its shadows at an
+early hour; and loud-talking men throng our street-corners and public
+resorts. Our politicians tell us that the destiny of the rich and the
+poor is to forever guard that institution which employs all our
+passions, and absorbs all our energies.
+
+In a curtained box, at the St. Charles, sits Mr. Snivel and George
+Mullholland--the latter careworn and downcast of countenance. "Let us
+finish this champaign, my good fellow," says the politician, emptying
+his glass. "A man--I mean one who wants to get up in the world--must,
+like me, have two distinct natures. He must have a grave, moral
+nature--that is necessary to the affairs of State. And he must, to
+accommodate himself to the world (law and society, I mean), have a
+terribly loose nature--a perfect quicksand, into which he can drag
+everything that serves himself. You have seen how I can develop both
+these, eh?" The downcast man shakes his head, as the politician watches
+him with a steady gaze. "Take the advice of a friend, now, let the Judge
+alone--don't threaten again to shoot that girl. Threats are sometimes
+dragged in as testimony against a man (Mr. Snivel taps George
+admonishingly on the arm); and should anything of a serious nature
+befall her--the law is curious--why, what you have said might implicate
+you, though you were innocent."
+
+"You," interrupts George, "have shot your man down in the street."
+
+"A very different affair, George. My position in society protects me. I
+am a member of the Jockey-Club, a candidate for the State Senate--a
+Justice of the Peace--yes, a politician! You are--Well, I was going to
+say--nothing! We regard northerners as enemies; socially, they are
+nothing. Come, George, come with me. I am your best friend. You shall
+see the power in my hands." The two men saunter out together, pass up a
+narrow lane leading from King Street, and are soon groping their way up
+the dark stairway of an old, neglected-looking wooden building, that for
+several years has remained deserted by everything but rats and
+politicians,--one seeming to gnaw away at the bowels of the nation, the
+other at the bowels of the old building. Having ascended to the second
+floor, Mr. Snivel touches a spring, a suspicious little trap opens, and
+two bright eyes peer out, as a low, whispering voice inquires, "Who's
+there?" Mr. Snivel has exchanged the countersign, and with his companion
+is admitted into a dark vestibule, in which sits a brawny guardsman.
+
+"Cribs are necessary, sir--I suppose you never looked into one before?"
+
+George, in a voice discovering timidity, says he never has.
+
+"You must have cribs, and crib-voters; they are necessary to get into
+high office--indeed, I may say, to keep up with the political spirit of
+the age." Mr. Snivel is interrupted by the deep, coarse voice of Milman
+Mingle, the vote-cribber, whose broad, savage face looks out at a small
+guard trap. "All right," he says, recognizing Mr. Snivel. Another
+minute, and a door opens into a long, sombre-looking room, redolent of
+the fumes of whiskey and tobacco. "The day is ours. We'll elect our
+candidate, and then my election is certain; naturalized thirteen rather
+green ones to-day--to-morrow they will be trump cards. Stubbs has
+attended to the little matter of the ballot-boxes." Mr. Snivel gives the
+vote-cribber's hand a warm shake, and turns to introduce his friend. The
+vote-cribber has seen him before. "There are thirteen in," he says, and
+two more he has in his eye, and will have in to-night, having sent
+trappers out for them.
+
+Cold meats, bread, cheese, and crackers, and a bountiful supply of bad
+whiskey, are spread over a table in the centre of the room; while the
+pale light of two small lamps, suspended from the ceiling, throws a
+curious shadow over the repulsive features of thirteen forlorn, ragged,
+and half-drunken men, sitting here and there round the room, on wooden
+benches. You see ignorance and cruelty written in their very
+countenances. For nearly three weeks they have not scented the air of
+heaven, but have been held here in a despicable bondage. Ragged and
+filthy, like Falstaff's invincibles, they will be marched to the polls
+to-morrow, and cast their votes at the bid of the cribber. "A happy lot
+of fellows," says Mr. Snivel, exultingly. "I have a passion for this
+sort of business--am general supervisor of all these cribs, you
+understand. We have several of them. Some of these 'drifts' we kidnap,
+and some come and be locked up of their own accord--merely for the feed
+and drink. We use them, and then snuff them out until we want them
+again." Having turned from George, and complimented the vote-cribber for
+his skill, he bids him good-night. Together George and the politician
+wend their way to an obscure part of the city, and having passed up two
+flight of winding stairs, into a large, old-fashioned house on the Neck,
+are in a sort of barrack-room, fitted up with bunks and benches, and
+filled with a grotesque assembly, making night jubilant--eating,
+drinking, smoking, and singing. "A jolly set of fellows," says Mr.
+Snivel, with an expression of satisfaction. "This is a decoy crib--the
+vagabonds all belong to the party of our opponents, but don't know it.
+We work in this way: we catch them--they are mostly foreigners--lock
+them up, give them good food and drink, and make them--not the half can
+speak our language--believe we belong to the same party. They yield, as
+submissive as curs. To morrow, we--this is in confidence--drug them all,
+send them into a fast sleep, in which we keep them till the polls are
+closed, then, not wanting them longer, we kick them out for a set of
+drunkards. Dangerous sort of cribbing, this. I let you into the secret
+out of pure friendship." Mr. Snivel pauses. George has at heart
+something of deeper interest to him than votes and vote-cribbers. But
+why, he says to himself, does Mr. Snivel evince this anxiety to befriend
+me? This question is answered by Mr. Snivel inviting him to take a look
+into the Keno den.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+THE KENO DEN, AND WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN IT.
+
+
+The clock has just struck twelve. Mr. Snivel and George, passing from
+the scenes of our last chapter, enter a Keno den,[5] situated on Meeting
+street. "You must get money, George. Here you are nothing without money.
+Take this, try your hand, make your genius serve you." Mr. Snivel puts
+twenty dollars into George's hand. They are in a room some twenty by
+thirty feet in dimensions, dimly-lighted. Standing here and there are
+gambling tables, around which are seated numerous mechanics, losing, and
+being defrauded of that for which they have labored hard during the
+week. Hope, anxiety, and even desperation is pictured on the
+countenances of the players. Maddened and disappointed, one young man
+rises from a table, at which sits a craven-faced man sweeping the
+winnings into his pile, and with profane tongue, says he has lost his
+all. Another, with flushed face and bloodshot eyes, declares it the
+sixth time he has lost his earnings here. A third reels confusedly about
+the room, says a mechanic is but a dog in South Carolina; and the sooner
+he comes to a dog's end the better.
+
+[Footnote 5: A gambling den.]
+
+Mr. Snivel points George to a table, at which he is soon seated.
+"Blank--blank--blank!" he reiterates, as the numbers turn up, and one by
+one the moody bank-keeper sweeps the money into his fast-increasing
+heap. "Cursed fate!--it is against me," mutters the forlorn man.
+"Another gone, and yet another! How this deluding, this fascinating
+money tortures me." With hectic face and agitated nerve, he puts down
+his last dollar. "Luck's mysterious!" exclaims Mr. Snivel, looking on
+unmoved, as the man of the moody face declares a blank, and again sweeps
+the money into his heap. "Gone!" says George, "all's gone now." He rises
+from his seat, in despair.
+
+"Don't get frantic, George--be a philosopher--try again--here's a ten.
+Luck 'll turn," says Mr. Snivel, patting the deluded man familiarly on
+the shoulder, as he resumes his seat. "Will poverty never cease
+torturing me? I have tried to be a man, an honest man, a respectable
+man. And yet, here I am, again cast upon a gambler's sea, struggling
+with its fearful tempests. How cold, how stone-like the faces around
+me!" he muses, watching with death-like gaze each number as it turns up.
+Again he has staked his last dollar; again fortune frowns upon him. Like
+a furnace of livid flame, the excitement seems burning up his brain. "I
+am a fool again," he says, throwing the blank number contemptuously upon
+the table. "Take it--take it, speechless, imperturbable man! Rake it
+into your pile, for my eyes are dim, and my fortune I must seek
+elsewhere."
+
+A noise at the door, as of some one in distress, is heard, and there
+rushes frantically into the den a pale, dejected-looking woman, bearing
+in her arms a sick and emaciated babe. "Oh, William! William!--has it
+come to this?" she shrieks, casting a wild glance round the den, until,
+with a dark, sad expression, her eye falls upon the object of her
+search. It is her husband, once a happy mechanic. Enticed by degrees
+into this den of ruin, becoming fascinated with its games of chance, he
+is how an _habitue_. To-night he left his suffering family, lost his all
+here, and now, having drank to relieve his feelings, lies insensible on
+the floor. "Come home!--come home! for God's sake come home to your
+suffering family," cries the woman, vaulting to him and taking him by
+the hand, her hair floating dishevelled down her shoulders. "I sent
+Tommy into the street to beg--I am ashamed--and he is picked up by the
+watch for a thief, a vagrant!" The prostrate man remains insensible to
+her appeal. Two policemen, who have been quietly neglecting their duties
+while taking a few chances, sit unmoved. Mr. Snivel thinks the woman
+better be removed. "Our half-starved mechanics," he says, "are a
+depraved set; and these wives they bring with them from the North are a
+sort of cross between a lean stage-driver and a wildcat. She seems a
+poor, destitute creature--just what they all come to, out here." Mr.
+Snivel shrugs his shoulders, bids George good night, and takes his
+departure. "Take care of yourself, George," he says admonitiously, as
+the destitute man watches him take his leave. The woman, frantic at the
+coldness and apathy manifested for her distress, lays her babe hurriedly
+upon the floor, and with passion and despair darting from her very eyes,
+makes a lunge across the keno table at the man who sits stoically at the
+bank. In an instant everything is turned into uproar and confusion.
+Glasses, chairs, and tables, are hurled about the floor; shriek follows
+shriek--"help! pity me! murder!" rises above the confusion, the watch
+without sound the alarm, and the watch within suddenly become conscious
+of their duty. In the midst of all the confusion, a voice cries out:
+"My pocket book--my pocket book!--I have been robbed." A light flashes
+from a guardsman's lantern, and George Mullholland is discovered with
+the forlorn woman in his arms--she clings tenaciously to her
+babe--rushing into the street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+WHICH A STATE OF SOCIETY IS SLIGHTLY REVEALED.
+
+
+A week has rolled into the past since the event at the Keno den.
+
+Madame Montford, pale, thoughtful, and abstracted, sits musing in her
+parlor. "Between this hope and fear--this remorse of conscience, this
+struggle to overcome the suspicions of society, I have no peace. I am
+weary of this slandering--this unforgiving world. And yet it is my own
+conscience that refuses to forgive me. Go where I will I see the cold
+finger of scorn pointed at me: I read in every countenance, 'Madame
+Montford, you have wronged some one--your guilty conscience betrays
+you!' I have sought to atone for my error--to render justice to one my
+heart tells me I have wronged, yet I cannot shake off the dread burden;
+and there seems rest for me only in the grave. Ah! there it is. The one
+error of my life, and the moans used to conceal it, may have brought
+misery upon more heads than one." She lays her hand upon her heart, and
+shakes her head sorrowfully. "Yes! something like a death-knell rings in
+my ears--'more than one have you sent, unhappy, to the grave.' Rejected
+by the one I fancy my own; my very touch, scorned; my motives
+misconstrued--all, perhaps, by--a doubt yet hangs between us--an
+abandoned stranger. Duty to my conscience has driven me to acts that
+have betrayed me to society. I cannot shake my guilt from me even for a
+day; and now society coldly cancels all my claims to its attentions. If
+I could believe her dead; if I but knew this girl was not the object of
+all my heart's unrest, then the wearying doubt would be buried, and my
+heart might find peace in some remote corner of the earth. Well,
+well--perhaps I am wasting all this torture on an unworthy object. I
+should have thought of this sooner, for now foul slander is upon every
+tongue, and my misery is made thrice painful by my old flatterers. I
+will make one more effort, then if I fail of getting a certain clue to
+her, I will remove to some foreign country, shake off these haunting
+dreams, and be no longer a victim to my own thoughts." Somewhat
+relieved, Madame is roused from her reverie by a gentle tap at the door.
+"I have waited your coming, and am glad to see you," she says, extending
+her hand, as a servant, in response to her command, ushers into her
+presence no less a person than Tom Swiggs. "I have sent for you," she
+resumes, motioning him gracefully to a chair, in which she begs he will
+be seated, "because I feel I can confide in you--"
+
+"Anything in my power is at your service, Madame," modestly interposes
+Tom, regaining confidence.
+
+"I entrusted something of much importance to me, to Mr. Snivel--"
+
+"We call him the Hon. Mr. Snivel now, since he has got to be a great
+politician," interrupts Tom.
+
+"And he not only betrayed my Confidence," pursues Madame Montford, "but
+retains the amount I paid him, and forgets to render the promised
+service. You, I am told, can render me a service--"
+
+"As for Mr. Snivel," pursues Tom, hastily, "he has of late had his hands
+full, getting a poor but good-natured fellow, by the name of George
+Mullholland, into trouble. His friend, Judge Sleepyhorn, and he, have
+for some time had a plot on hand to crush this poor fellow. A few nights
+ago Snivel drove him mad at a gambling den, and in his desperation he
+robbed a man of his pocket-book. He shared the money with a poor woman
+he rescued at the den, and that is the way it was discovered that he was
+the criminal. He is a poor, thoughtless man, and he has been goaded on
+from one thing to another, until he was driven to commit this act.
+First, his wife was got away from him--" Tom pauses and blushes, as
+Madame Montford says: "His wife was got away from him?"
+
+"Yes, Madame," returns Tom, with an expression of sincerity, "The Judge
+got her away from him; and this morning he was arraigned before that
+same Judge for examination, and Mr. Snivel was a principal witness, and
+there was enough found against him to commit him for trial at the
+Sessions." Discovering that this information is exciting her emotions,
+Tom pauses, and contemplates her with steady gaze. She desires he will
+be her guide to the Poor-House, and there assist her in searching for
+Mag Munday, whom, report says, is confined in a cell. Tom having
+expressed his readiness to serve her, they are soon on their way to that
+establishment.
+
+A low, squatty building, with a red, moss-covered roof, two lean
+chimneys peeping out, the windows blockaded with dirt, and situated in
+one of the by-lanes of the city, is our Poor-House, standing half hid
+behind a crabbed old wall, and looking very like a much-neglected
+Quaker church in vegetation. We boast much of our institutions, and
+this being a sample of them, we hold it in great reverence. You may say
+that nothing so forcibly illustrates a state of society as the character
+of its institutions for the care of those unfortunate beings whom a
+capricious nature has deprived of their reason. We agree with you. We
+see our Poor-House crumbling to the ground with decay, yet imagine it,
+or affect to imagine it, a very grand edifice, in every way suited to
+the wants of such rough ends of humanity as are found in it. Like Satan,
+we are brilliant believers in ourselves, not bad sophists, and
+singularly clever in finding apologies for all great crimes.
+
+At the door of the Poor-House stands a dilapidated hearse, to which an
+old gray horse is attached. A number of buzzards have gathered about
+him, turn their heads suspiciously now and then, and seem meditating a
+descent upon his bones at no very distant day. Madame casts a glance at
+the hearse, and the poor old horse, and the cawing buzzards, then
+follows Tom, timidly, to the door. He has rung the bell, and soon there
+stands before them, in the damp doorway, a fussy old man, with a very
+broad, red face, and a very blunt nose, and two very dull, gray eyes,
+which he fortifies with a fair of massive-framed spectacles, that have a
+passion for getting upon the tip-end of his broad blunt nose.
+
+"There, you want to see somebody! Always somebody wanted to be seen,
+when we have dead folks to get rid of," mutters the old man,
+querulously, then looking inquiringly at the visitors. Tom says they
+would like to go over the premises. "Yes--know you would. Ain't so dull
+but I can see what folks want when they look in here." The old man, his
+countenance wearing an expression of stupidity, runs his dingy fingers
+over the crown of his bald head, and seems questioning within himself
+whether to admit them. "I'm not in a very good humor to-day," he rather
+growls than speaks, "but you can come in--I'm of a good family--and I'll
+call Glentworthy. I'm old--I can't get about much. We'll all get old."
+The building seems in a very bad temper generally.
+
+Mr. Glentworthy is called. Mr. Glentworthy, with a profane expletive,
+pops his head out at the top of the stairs, and inquires who wants him.
+The visitors have advanced into a little, narrow passage, lumbered with
+all sorts of rubbish, and swarming with flies. Mr. Saddlerock (for this
+is the old man's name) seems in a declining mood, the building seems in
+a declining mood, Mr. Glentworthy seems in a declining mood--everything
+you look at seems in a declining mood. "As if I hadn't enough to do,
+gettin' off this dead cribber!" interpolates Mr. Glentworthy,
+withdrawing his wicked face, and taking himself back into a room on the
+left.
+
+"He's not so bad a man, only it doesn't come out at first," pursues Mr.
+Saddlerock, continuing to rub his head, and to fuss round on his toes.
+His mind, Madame Montford verily believes stuck in a fog. "We must wait
+a bit," says the old man, his face seeming to elongate. "You can look
+about--there's not much to be seen, and what there is--well, it's not
+the finest." Mr. Saddlerock shuffles his feet, and then shuffles himself
+into a small side room. Through the building there breathes a warm,
+sickly atmosphere; the effect has left its marks upon the sad, waning
+countenances of its unfortunate inmates.
+
+Tom and Madame Montford set out to explore the establishment. They
+enter room after room, find them small, dark, and filthy beyond
+description. Some are crowded with half-naked, flabby females, whose
+careworn faces, and well-starved aspect, tells a sorrowful tale of the
+chivalry. An abundant supply of profane works, in yellow and red covers,
+would indeed seem to have been substituted for food, which, to the shame
+of our commissioners, be it said, is a scarce article here. Cooped up in
+another little room, after the fashion of wild beasts in a cage, are
+seven poor idiots, whose forlorn condition, sad, dull countenances, as
+they sit round a table, staring vacantly at one another, like mummies in
+contemplation, form a wild but singularly touching picture. Each
+countenance pales before the seeming study of its opponent, until,
+enraptured and amazed, they break out into a wild, hysterical laugh. And
+thus, poisoned, starved, and left to die, does time with these poor
+mortals fleet on.
+
+The visitors ascend to the second story. A shuffling of feet in a room
+at the top of the stairs excites their curiosity. Mr. Glentworthy's
+voice grates harshly on the ear, in language we cannot insert in this
+history. "Our high families never look into low places--chance if the
+commissioner has looked in here for years," says Tom, observing Madame
+Montford protect her inhaling organs with her perfumed cambric. "There
+is a principle of economy carried out--and a very nice principle, too,
+in getting these poor out of the world as quick as possible." Tom pushes
+open a door, and, heavens! what a sight is here. He stands aghast in the
+doorway--Madam, on tip-toe, peers anxiously in over his shoulders. Mr.
+Glentworthy and two negroes--the former slightly inebriated, the latter
+trembling of fright--are preparing to box up a lifeless mass, lying
+carelessly upon the floor. The distorted features, the profusion of
+long, red hair, curling over a scared face, and the stalworth figure,
+shed some light upon the identity of the deceased. "Who is it?"
+ejaculates Mr. Glentworthy, in response to an inquiry from Tom. Mr.
+Glentworthy shrugs his shoulders, and commences whistling a tune. "That
+cove!" he resumes, having stopped short in his tune, "a man what don't
+know that cove, never had much to do with politics. Stuffed more ballot
+boxes, cribbed more voters, and knocked down more slip-shod
+citizens--that cove has, than, put 'em all together, would make a South
+Carolina regiment. A mighty man among politicians, he was! Now the devil
+has cribbed him--he'll know how good it is!" Mr. Glentworthy says this
+with an air of superlative satisfaction, resuming his tune. The dead man
+is Milman Mingle, the vote-cribber, who died of a wound he received at
+the hands of an antagonist, whom he was endeavoring to "block out" while
+going to the polls to cast his vote. "Big politician, but had no home!"
+says Madame, with a sigh.
+
+Mr. Glentworthy soon had what remained of the vote-cribber--the man to
+whom so many were indebted for their high offices--into a deal box, and
+the deal box into the old hearse, and the old hearse, driven by a
+mischievous negro, hastening to that great crib to which we must all go.
+"Visitors," Mr. Glentworthy smiles, "must not question the way we do
+business here, I get no pay, and there's only old Saddlerock and me to
+do all the work. Old Saddlerock, you see, is a bit of a miser, and
+having a large family of small Saddlerocks to provide for, scrapes what
+he can into his own pocket. No one is the wiser. They can't be--they
+never come in." Mr. Glentworthy, in reply to a question from Madame
+Montford, says Mag Munday (he has some faint recollection of her) was
+twice in the house, which he dignifies with the title of "Institution."
+She never was in the "mad cells"--to his recollection. "Them what get
+there, mostly die there." A gift of two dollars secures Mr.
+Glentworthy's services, and restores him to perfect good nature. "You
+will remember," says Tom, "that this woman ran neglected about the
+streets, was much abused, and ended in becoming a maniac." Mr.
+Glentworthy remembers very well, but adds: "We have so many maniacs on
+our hands, that we can't distinctly remember them all. The clergymen
+take good care never to look in here. They couldn't do any good if they
+did, for nobody cares for the rubbish sent here; and if you tried to
+Christianize them, you would only get laughed at. I don't like to be
+laughed at. Munday's not here now, that's settled--but I'll--for
+curiosity's sake--show you into the 'mad cells.'" Mr. Glentworthy leads
+the way, down the rickety old stairs, through the lumbered passage, into
+an open square, and from thence into a small out-building, at the
+extreme end of which some dozen wet, slippery steps, led into a dark
+subterranean passage, on each side of which are small, dungeon-like
+cells. "Heavens!" exclaims Madame Montford, picking her way down the
+steep, slippery steps. "How chilling! how tomb-like! Can it be that
+mortals are confined here, and live?" she mutters, incoherently. The
+stifling atmosphere is redolent of disease.
+
+"It straightens 'em down, sublimely--to put 'em in here," says Mr.
+Glentworthy, laconically, lighting his lamp. "I hope to get old
+Saddlerock in here. Give him such a mellowing!" He turns his light, and
+the shadows play, spectre-like, along a low, wet aisle, hung on each
+side with rusty bolts and locks, revealing the doors of cells. An
+ominous stillness is broken by the dull clank of chains, the muttering
+of voices, the shuffling of limbs; then a low wail breaks upon the ear,
+and rises higher and higher, shriller and shriller, until in piercing
+shrieks it chills the very heart. Now it ceases, and the echoes, like
+the murmuring winds, die faintly away. "Look in here, now," says Mr.
+Glentworthy--"a likely wench--once she was!"
+
+He swings open a door, and there issues from a cell about four feet six
+inches wide, and nine long, the hideous countenance of a poor, mulatto
+girl, whose shrunken body, skeleton-like arms, distended and glassy
+eyes, tell but too forcibly her tale of sorrow. How vivid the picture of
+wild idiocy is pictured in her sad, sorrowing face. No painter's touch
+could have added a line more perfect. Now she rushes forward, with a
+suddenness that makes Madame Montford shrink back, appalled--now she
+fixes her eyes, hangs down her head, and gives vent to her tears. "My
+soul is white--yes, yes, yes! I know it is white; God tells me it is
+white--he knows--he never tortures. He doesn't keep me here to die--no,
+I can't die here in the dark. I won't get to heaven if I do. Oh! yes,
+yes, yes, I have a white soul, but my skin is not," she rather murmurs
+than speaks, continuing to hold down her head, while parting her long,
+clustering hair over her shoulders. Notwithstanding the spectacle of
+horror presented in this living skeleton, there is something in her look
+and action which bespeaks more the abuse of long confinement than the
+result of natural aberration of mind. "She gets fierce now and then,
+and yells," says the unmoved Glentworthy, "but she won't hurt ye--"
+
+[6]"How long," inquires Madame Montford, who has been questioning within
+herself whether any act of her life could have brought a Human being
+into such a place, "has she been confined here?" Mr. Glentworthy says
+she tells her own tale.
+
+[Footnote 6: Can it be possible that such things as are here pictured
+have an existence among a people laying any claim to a state of
+civilization? the reader may ask. The author would here say that to the
+end of fortifying himself against the charge of exaggeration, he
+submitted the MS. of this chapter to a gentleman of the highest
+respectability in Charleston, whose unqualified approval it received, as
+well as enlisting his sympathies in behalf of the unfortunate lunatics
+found in the cells described. Four years have passed since that time. He
+subsequently sent the author the following, from the "Charleston
+Courier," which speaks for itself.
+
+   "FROM THE REPORTS OF COUNCIL.
+   "January 4th, 1843
+
+"_The following communication was received from William M. Lawton, Esq.,
+Chairman of the Commissioners of the Poor-house._
+
+   "'Charleston, Dec. 17th, 1852.
+   "'To the Honorable, the City Council of Charleston:
+
+"'By a resolution of the Board of Commissioners of this City, I have
+been instructed to communicate with your honorable body in relation to
+the insane paupers now in Poor-house', (the insane in a poor-house!)
+'and to request that you will adopt the necessary provision for sending
+them to the Lunatic Asylum at Columbia. * * * * There are twelve on the
+list, many of whom, it is feared, have already remained too long in an
+institution quite unsuited to their unfortunate situation.
+
+   "'With great respect, your very obedient servant,
+   "'(Signed) WM. M. LAWTON,
+   "'Chairman of the Board of Commissioners.'"]
+
+"Five years,--five years,--five long, long years, I have waited for him
+in the dark, but he won't come," she lisps in a faltering voice, as her
+emotions overwhelm her. Then crouching back upon the floor, she supports
+her head pensively in her left hand, her elbow resting on her knee, and
+her right hand poised against the brick wall, "Pencele!" says Mr.
+Glentworthy, for such is the wretched woman's name, "cannot you sing a
+song for your friends?" Turning aside to Madame Montford, he adds, "she
+sings nicely. We shall soon get her out of the way--can't last much
+longer." Mr. Glentworthy, drawing a small bottle from his pocket, places
+it to his lips, saying he stole it from old Saddlerock, and gulps down a
+portion of the contents. His breath is already redolent of whiskey. "Oh,
+yes, yes, yes! I can sing for them, I can smother them with kisses. Good
+faces seldom look in here, seldom look in here," she rises to her feet,
+and extends her bony hand, as the tears steal down Madame Montford's
+cheeks. Tom stands speechless. He wishes he had power to redress the
+wrongs of this suffering maniac--his very soul fires up against the
+coldness and apathy of a people who permit such outrages against
+humanity. "There!--he comes! he comes! he comes!" the maniac speaks,
+with faltering voice, then strikes up a plaintive air, which she sings
+with a voice of much sweetness, to these words:
+
+   When you find him, speed him to me,
+   And this heart will cease its bleeding, &c.
+
+The history of all this poor maniac's sufferings is told in a few simple
+words that fall incautiously from Mr. Glentworthy's lips: "Poor fool,
+she had only been married a couple of weeks, when they sold her husband
+down South. She thinks if she keeps mad, he'll come back."
+
+There was something touching, something melancholy in the music of her
+song, as its strains verberated and reverberated through the dread
+vault, then, like the echo of a lover's lute on some Alpine hill, died
+softly away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+IN WHICH THERE IS A SINGULAR REVELATION.
+
+
+Madame Montford returns, unsuccessful, to her parlor. It is conscience
+that unlocks the guilty heart, that forces mortals to seek relief where
+there is no chance of finding it. It was this irresistible emotion that
+found her counseling Tom Swiggs, making of him a confidant in her search
+for the woman she felt could remove the doubt, in respect to Anna's
+identity, that hung so painfully in her mind. And yet, such was her
+position, hesitating as it were between her ambition to move in
+fashionable society, and her anxiety to atone for a past error, that she
+dare not disclose the secret of all her troubles even to him. She sought
+him, not that he could soften her anxiety, but that being an humble
+person, she could pursue her object through him, unobserved to
+society--in a word, that he would be a protection against the
+apprehensions of scandal-mongers. Such are the shifts to which the
+ambitious guilty have recourse. What she has beheld in the poor-house,
+too, only serves to quicken her thoughts of the misery she may have
+inflicted upon others, and to stimulate her resolution to persevere in
+her search for the woman. Conscious that wealth and luxury does not
+always bring happiness, and that without a spotless character, woman is
+but a feeble creature in this world, she would now sacrifice everything
+else for that one ennobling charm.
+
+It may be proper here to add, that although Tom Swiggs could not enter
+into the repentant woman's designs, having arranged with his employer to
+sail for London in a few days, she learned of him something that
+reflected a little more light in her path. And that was, that the woman
+Anna Bonard, repined of her act in leaving George Mullholland, to whom
+she was anxious to return--that she was now held against her will; that
+she detested Judge Sleepyhorn, although he had provided lavishly for her
+comfort. Anna knew George loved her, and that love, even to an abandoned
+woman (if she could know it sincere), was dearer to her than all else.
+She learned, too, that high up on Anna's right arm, there was imprinted
+in blue and red ink, two hearts and a broken anchor. And this tended
+further to increase her anxiety. And while evolving all these things in
+her mind, and contemplating the next best course to pursue, her parlor
+is invaded by Mr. Snivel. He is no longer Mr. Soloman, nor Mr. Snivel.
+He is the Hon. Mr. Snivel. It is curious to contemplate the character of
+the men to whose name we attach this mark of distinction. "I know you
+will pardon my seeming neglect, Madame," he says, grasping her hand
+warmly, as a smile of exultation lights up his countenance. "The fact
+is, we public men are so absorbed in the affairs of the nation, that we
+have scarce a thought to give to affairs of a private nature. We have
+elected our ticket. I was determined it should be so, if Jericho fell.
+And, more than all, I am made an honorable, by the popular sentiment of
+the people--"
+
+"To be popular with the people, is truly an honor," interrupts the lady,
+facetiously.
+
+"Thank you--O, thank you, for the compliment," pursues our hero. "Now,
+as to this unfortunate person you seek, knowing it was of little use to
+search for her in our institutions of charity--one never can find out
+anything about the wretches who get into them--I put the matter into the
+hands of one of our day-police--a plaguey sharp fellow--and he set about
+scenting her out. I gave him a large sum, and promised him more if
+successful. Here, then, after a long and tedious search--I have no doubt
+the fellow earned his money--is what he got from New York, this
+morning." The Hon. Mr. Snivel, fixing his eye steadily upon her, hands
+her a letter which reads thus:
+
+"NEW YORK, _Dec. 14th, 18--_.
+
+"Last night, while making search after a habitant of the Points, a odd
+old chip what has wandered about here for some years, some think he has
+bin a better sort of man once, I struck across the woman you want. She
+is somewhere tucked away in a Cow Bay garret, and is awful crazy; I'll
+keep me eye out till somethin' further. If her friends wants to give her
+a lift out of this place, they'd better come and see me at once.
+
+   "Yours, as ever,
+   "M---- FITZGERALD."
+
+Mr. Snivel ogles Madame Montford over the page of a book he affects to
+read. "Guilt! deep and strong," he says within himself, as Madame, with
+flushed countenance and trembling hand, ponders and ponders over the
+paper. Then her emotions quicken, her eyes exchange glances with Mr.
+Snivel, and she whispers, with a sigh, "found--at last! And yet how
+foolish of me to give way to my feelings? The affair, at best, is none
+of mine." Mr. Snivel bows, and curls his Saxon mustache. "To do good
+for others is the natural quality of a generous nature."
+
+Madame, somewhat relieved by this condescension of the Hon. gentleman,
+says, in reply, "I am curious at solving family affairs."
+
+"And I!" says our hero, with refreshing coolness--"always ready to do a
+bit of a good turn."
+
+Madame pauses, as if in doubt whether to proceed or qualify what she has
+already said. "A relative, whose happiness I make my own," she resumes,
+and again pauses, while the words tremble upon her lips. She hears the
+words knelling in her ears: "A guilty conscience needs no betrayer."
+
+"You have," pursues our hero, "a certain clue; and of that I may
+congratulate you."
+
+Madame says she will prepare at once to return to her home in New York,
+and--and here again the words hang upon her lips. She was going to say,
+her future proceedings would be governed by the paper she holds so
+nervously in her finger.
+
+Snivel here receives a nostrum from the lady's purse. "Truly!--Madame,"
+he says, in taking leave of her, "the St. Cecilia will regret you--we
+shall all regret you; you honored and graced our assemblies so. Our
+first families will part with you reluctantly. It may, however, be some
+satisfaction to know how many kind things will be said of you in your
+absence." Mr. Snivel makes his last bow, a sarcastic smile playing over
+his face, and pauses into the street.
+
+On the following day she encloses a present of fifty dollars to Tom
+Swiggs, enjoins the necessity of his keeping her visit to the
+poor-house a secret, and takes leave of Charleston.
+
+And here our scene changes, and we must transport the reader to New
+York. It is the day following the night Mr. Detective Fitzgerald
+discovered what remained of poor Toddleworth, in the garret of the House
+of the Nine Nations. The City Hall clock strikes twelve. The goodly are
+gathered into the House of the Foreign Missions, in which peace and
+respectability would seem to preside. The good-natured fat man is in his
+seat, pondering over letters lately received from the "dark regions" of
+Arabia; the somewhat lean, but very respectable-looking Secretary, is
+got nicely into his spectacles, and sits pondering over lusty folios of
+reports from Hindostan, and various other fields of missionary labor,
+all setting forth the various large amounts of money expended, how much
+more could be expended, and what a blessing it is to be enabled to
+announce the fact that there is now a hope of something being done. The
+same anxious-faced bevy of females we described in a previous chapter,
+are here, seated at a table, deeply interested in certain periodicals
+and papers; while here and there about the room, are several
+contemplative gentlemen in black. Brother Spyke, having deeply
+interested Brothers Phills and Prim with an account of his visit to the
+Bottomless Pit, paces up and down the room, thinking of Antioch, and the
+evangelization of the heathen world. "Truly, brother," speaks the
+good-natured fat man, "his coming seemeth long." "Eleven was the hour;
+but why he tarryeth I know not," returns Brother Spyke, with calm
+demeanor. "There is something more alarming in Sister Slocum's absence,"
+interposes one of the ladies. The house seems in a waiting mood, when
+suddenly Mr. Detective Fitzgerald enters, and changes it to one of
+anxiety. Several voices inquire if he was successful. He shakes his
+head, and having recounted his adventures, the discovery of where the
+money went to, and the utter hopelessness of an effort to recover it;
+"as for the man, Toddleworth," he says, methodically, "he was found with
+a broken skull. The Coroner has had an inquest over him; but murders are
+so common. The verdict was, that he died of a broken skull, by the hands
+of some one to the jury unknown. Suspicions were strong against one Tom
+Downey, who is very like a heathen, and is mistrusted of several
+murders. The affair disturbed the neighborhood a little, and the Coroner
+tried to get something out concerning the man's history; but it all went
+to the wind, for the people were all so ignorant. They all knew
+everything about him, which turned out to be just nothing, which they
+were ready to swear to. One believed Father Flaherty made the Bible,
+another believed the Devil still chained in Columbia College--a third
+believed the stars were lanterns to guide priests--the only angels they
+know--on their way to heaven."
+
+"Truly!" exclaims the man of the spectacles, in a moment of abstraction.
+
+Brother Spyke says: "the Lord be merciful."
+
+"On the body of the poor man we found this document. It was rolled
+carefully up in a rag, and is supposed to throw some light on his
+history." Mr. Fitzgerald draws leisurely from his pocket a distained and
+much-crumpled paper, written over in a bold, business-like hand, and
+passes it to the man in the spectacle, as a dozen or more anxious faces
+gather round, eager to explore the contents.
+
+"He went out of the Points as mysteriously as he came in. We buried him
+a bit ago, and have got Downey in the Tombs: he'll be hanged, no doubt,"
+concludes the detective, laying aside his cap, and setting himself,
+uninvited, into a chair. The man in the spectacles commences reading the
+paper, which runs as follows:
+
+"I have been to you an unknown, and had died such an unknown, but that
+my conscience tells me I have a duty to perform. I have wronged no one,
+owe no one a penny, harbor no malice against any one; I am a victim of a
+broken heart, and my own melancholy. Many years ago I pursued an
+honorable business in this city, and was respected and esteemed. Many
+knew me, and fortune seemed to shed upon me her smiles. I married a lady
+of wealth and affluence, one I loved and doted on. Our affections seemed
+formed for our bond; we lived for one another; our happiness seemed
+complete. But alas! an evil hour came. Ambitious of admiration, she
+gradually became a slave to fashionable society, and then gave herself
+up to those flatterers who hang about it, and whose chief occupation it
+is to make weak-minded women vain of their own charms. Coldness, and
+indifference to home, soon followed. My house was invaded, my home--that
+home I regarded so sacredly--became the resort of men in whose society I
+found no pleasure, with whom I had no feeling in common. I could not
+remonstrate, for that would have betrayed in me a want of confidence in
+the fidelity of one I loved too blindly. I was not one of those who make
+life miserable in seeing a little and suspecting much. No! I forgave
+many things that wounded my feelings; and my love for her would not
+permit a thought to invade the sanctity of her fidelity. Business
+called me into a foreign country, where I remained several months, then
+returned--not, alas! to a home made happy by the purity of one I
+esteemed an angel;--not to the arms of a pure, fond wife, but to find my
+confidence betrayed, my home invaded--she, in whom I had treasured up my
+love, polluted; and slander, like a desert wind, pouring its desolating
+breath into my very heart. In my blindness I would have forgiven her,
+taken her back to my distracted bosom, and fled with her to some distant
+land, there still to have lived and loved her. But she sought rather to
+conceal her guilt than ask forgiveness. My reason fled me, my passion
+rose above my judgment, I sank under the burden of my sorrow, attempted
+to put an end to her life, and to my own misery. Failing in this, for my
+hand was stayed by a voice I heard calling to me, I fled the country and
+sought relief for my feelings in the wilds of Chili. I left nearly all
+to my wife, took but little with me, for my object was to bury myself
+from the world that had known me, and respected me. Destitution followed
+me; whither I went there seemed no rest, no peace of mind for me. The
+past floated uppermost in my mind. I was ever recurring to home, to
+those with whom I had associated, to an hundred things that had endeared
+me to my own country. Years passed--years of suffering and sorrow, and I
+found myself a lone wanderer, without friend or money. During this time
+it was reported at home, as well as chronicled in the newspapers, that I
+was dead. The inventor of this report had ends, I will not name them
+here, to serve. I was indeed dead to all who had known me happy in this
+world. Disguised, a mere shadow of what I was once, I wandered back to
+New York, heart-sick and discouraged, and buried myself among those
+whose destitution, worse, perhaps, than my own, afforded me a means of
+consolation. My life has long been a burden to me; I have many times
+prayed God, in his mercy, to take me away, to close the account of my
+misery. Do you ask my name? Ah! that is what pains me most. To live
+unknown, a wretched outcast, in a city where I once enjoyed a name that
+was respected, is what has haunted my thoughts, and tortured my
+feelings. But I cannot withhold it, even though it has gone down,
+tainted and dishonored. It is Henry Montford. And with this short record
+I close my history, leaving the rest for those to search out who find
+this paper, at my death, which cannot be long hence.
+
+   "HENRY MONTFORD.
+   "_New York, Nov. --, 184-._"
+
+A few sighs follow the reading of the paper, but no very deep interest,
+no very tender emotion, is awakened in the hearts of the goodly.
+Nevertheless, it throws a flood of light upon the morals of a class of
+society vulgarly termed fashionable. The meek females hold their tears
+and shake their heads. Brother Spyke elongates his lean figure, draws
+near, and says the whole thing is very unsatisfactory. Not one word is
+let drop about the lost money.
+
+Brother Phills will say this--that the romance is very cleverly got up,
+as the theatre people say.
+
+The good-natured fat man, breathing somewhat freer, says: "Truly! these
+people have a pleasant way of passing out of the world. They die of
+their artful practices--seeking to devour the good and the generous."
+
+"There's more suffers than imposes--an' there's more than's written
+meant in that same bit of paper. Toddleworth was as inoffensive a
+creature as you'd meet in a day. May God forgive him all his faults;"
+interposes Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, gathering up his cap and passing
+slowly out of the room.
+
+And this colloquy is put an end to by the sudden appearance of Sister
+Slocum. A rustling silk dress, of quiet color, and set off with three
+modest flounces; an India shawl, loosely thrown over her shoulders; a
+dainty little collar, of honiton, drawn neatly about her neck, and a
+bonnet of buff-colored silk, tastefully set off with tart-pie work
+without, and lined with virtuous white satin within, so saucily poised
+on her head, suggests the idea that she has an eye to fashion as well as
+the heathen world. Her face, too, always so broad, bright, and
+benevolent in its changes--is chastely framed in a crape border, so
+nicely crimped, so nicely tucked under her benevolent chin at one end,
+and so nicely pinned under the virtuous white lining at the other.
+Goodness itself radiates from those large; earnest blue eyes, those
+soft, white cheeks, that large forehead, with those dashes of silvery
+hair crossing it so smoothly and so exactly--that well-developed, but
+rather broad nose, and that mouth so expressive of gentleness.
+
+Sister Slocum, it requires no very acute observer to discover, has got
+something more than the heathen world at heart, for all those soft,
+congenial features are shadowed with sadness. Silently she takes her
+seat, sits abstracted for a few minutes--the house is thrown into a
+wondering mood--then looks wisely through her spectacles, and having
+folded her hands with an air of great resignation, shakes, and shakes,
+and shakes her head. Her eyes suddenly fill with tears, her thoughts
+wander, or seem to wander, she attempts to speak, her voice chokes, and
+the words hang upon her lips. All is consternation and excitement.
+Anxious faces gather round, and whispering voices inquire the cause. The
+lean man in the spectacles having applied his hartshorn bottle, Sister
+Slocum, to the great joy of all present, is so far restored as to be
+able to announce the singular, but no less melancholy fact, that our
+dear guest, Sister Swiggs, has passed from this world to a better. She
+retired full of sorrow, but came not in the morning. And this so
+troubled Sister Scudder that there was no peace until she entered her
+room. But she found the angel had been there before her, smoothed the
+pillow of the stranger, and left her to sleep in death. On earth her
+work was well done, and in the arms of the angel, her pure spirit now
+beareth witness in heaven. Sister Slocum's emotions forbid her saying
+more. She concludes, and buries her face in her cambric. Then an
+outpouring of consoling words follow. "He cometh like a thief in the
+night: His works are full of mystery; truly, He chasteneth; He giveth
+and taketh away." Such are a few of the sentiments lisped, regrettingly,
+for the departed.
+
+How vain are the hopes with which we build castles in the air; how
+strange the motives that impel us to ill-advised acts. We leave
+untouched the things that call loudest for our energies, and treasure up
+our little that we may serve that which least concerns us. In this
+instance it is seen how that which came of evil went in evil; how
+disappointment stepped in and blew the castle down at a breath.
+
+There could not be a doubt that the disease of which Sister Smiggs
+died, and which it is feared the State to which she belongs will one day
+die, was little dignity. Leaving her then in the arms of the House of
+the Foreign Mission, and her burial to the Secretary of the very
+excellent "Tract Society" she struggled so faithfully to serve, we close
+this chapter of events, the reader having, no doubt, discovered the
+husband of Madame Montford in the wretched man, Mr. Toddleworth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+THE TWO PICTURES.
+
+
+We come now to another stage of this history. Six months have glided
+into the past since the events recorded in the foregoing chapter. The
+political world of Charleston is resolved to remain in the Union a few
+months longer. It is a pleasant evening in early May. The western sky is
+golden with the setting sun, and the heavens are filled with battlements
+of refulgent clouds, now softening away into night. Yonder to the East,
+reposes a dark grove. A gentle breeze fans through its foliage, the
+leaves laugh and whisper, the perfumes of flowers are diffusing through
+the air birds make melodious with their songs, the trilling stream
+mingles its murmurs, and nature would seem gathering her beauties into
+one enchanting harmony. In the foreground of the grove, and looking as
+if it borrowed solitude of the deep foliage, in which it is half buried,
+rises a pretty villa, wherein may be seen, surrounded by luxuries the
+common herd might well envy, the fair, the beautiful siren, Anna Bonard.
+In the dingy little back parlor of the old antiquary, grim poverty
+looking in through every crevasse, sits the artless and pure-minded
+Maria McArthur. How different are the thoughts, the hopes, the emotions
+of these two women. Comfort would seem smiling on the one, while
+destitution threatens the other. To the eye that looks only upon the
+surface, how deceptive is the picture. The one with every wish
+gratified, an expression of sorrow shadowing her countenance, and that
+freshness and sweetness for which she was distinguished passing away,
+contemplates herself a submissive captive, at the mercy of one for whom
+she has no love, whose gold she cannot inherit, and whose roof she must
+some day leave for the street. The other feels poverty grasping at her,
+but is proud in the possession of her virtue; and though trouble would
+seem tracing its lines upon her features, her heart remains untouched by
+remorse;--she is strong in the consciousness that when all else is gone,
+her virtue will remain her beacon light to happiness. Anna, in the loss
+of that virtue, sees herself shut out from that very world that points
+her to the yawning chasm of her future; she feels how like a slave in
+the hands of one whose heart is as cold as his smiles are false, she is.
+Maria owes the world no hate, nor are her thoughts disturbed by such
+contemplations. Anna, with embittered and remorseful feelings--with dark
+and terrible passions agitating her bosom, looks back over her eventful
+life, to a period when even her own history is shut to her, only to find
+the tortures of her soul heightened. Maria looks back upon a life of
+fond attachment to her father, to her humble efforts to serve others,
+and to know that she has borne with Christian fortitude those ills which
+are incident to humble life. With her, an emotion of joy repays the
+contemplation. To Anna, the future is hung in dark forebodings. She
+recalls to mind the interview with Madame Montford, but that only tends
+to deepen the storm of anguish the contemplation of her parentage
+naturally gives rise to. With Maria, the present hangs dark and the
+future brightens. She thinks of the absent one she loves--of how she can
+best serve her aged father, and how she can make their little home
+cheerful until the return of Tom Swiggs, who is gone abroad. It must be
+here disclosed that the old man had joined their hands, and invoked a
+blessing on their heads, ere Tom took his departure. Maria looks forward
+to the day of his return with joyous emotions. That return is the day
+dream of her heart; in it she sees her future brightening. Such are the
+cherished thoughts of a pure mind. Poverty may gnaw away at the
+hearthstone, cares and sorrow may fall thick in your path, the rich may
+frown upon you, and the vicious sport with your misfortunes, but virtue
+gives you power to overcome them all. In Maria's ear something whispers:
+Woman! hold fast to thy virtue, for if once it go neither gold nor false
+tongues can buy it back.
+
+Anna sees the companion of her early life, and the sharer of her
+sufferings, shut up in a prison, a robber, doomed to the lash. "He was
+sincere to me, and my only true friend--am I the cause of this?" she
+muses. Her heart answers, and her bosom fills with dark and stormy
+emotions. One small boon is now all she asks. She could bow down and
+worship before the throne of virgin innocence, for now its worth towers,
+majestic, before her. It discovers to her the falsity of her day-dream;
+it tells her what an empty vessel is this life of ours without it. She
+knows George Mullholland loves her passionately; she knows how deep will
+be his grief, how revengeful his feelings. It is poverty that fastens
+the poison in the heart of the rejected lover. The thought of this
+flashes through her mind. His hopeless condition, crushed out as it were
+to gratify him in whose company her pleasures are but transitory, and
+may any day end, darkens as she contemplates it. How can she acquit her
+conscience of having deliberately and faithlessly renounced one who was
+so true to her? She repines, her womanly nature revolts at the
+thought--the destiny her superstition pictured so dark and terrible,
+stares her in the face. She resolves a plan for his release, and,
+relieved with a hope that she can accomplish it while propitiating the
+friendship of the Judge, the next day seeks him in his prison cell, and
+with all that vehemence woman, in the outpouring of her generous
+impulses, can call to her aid, implores his forgiveness. But the rust of
+disappointment has dried up his better nature; his heart is wrung with
+the shafts of ingratitude--all the fierce passions of his nature, hate,
+scorn and revenge, rise up in the one stormy outburst of his soul. He
+casts upon her a look of withering scorn, the past of that life so
+chequered flashes vividly through his thoughts, his hate deepens, he
+hurls her from him, invokes a curse upon her head, and shuts her from
+his sight. "Mine will be the retribution!" he says, knitting his dark
+brow.
+
+How is it with the Judge--that high functionary who provides thus
+sumptuously for his mistress? His morals, like his judgments, are
+excused, in the cheap quality of our social morality.
+
+Such is gilded vice; such is humble virtue.
+
+A few days more and the term of the Sessions commences. George is
+arraigned, and the honorable Mr. Snivel, who laid the plot, and
+furthered the crime, now appears as a principal witness. He procures the
+man's conviction, and listens with guilty heart to the sentence, for he
+is rearraigned on sentence day, and Mr. Snivel is present. And while
+the culprit is sentenced to two years imprisonment, and to receive
+eighty lashes, laid on his bare back, while at the public whipping-post,
+at four stated times, the man who stimulated the hand of the criminal,
+is honored and flattered by society. Such is the majesty of the law.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+IN WHICH A LITTLE LIGHT IS SHED UPON THE CHARACTER OF OUR CHIVALRY.
+
+
+Mr. McArthur has jogged on, in the good old way but his worldly store
+seems not to increase. The time, nevertheless, is arrived when he is
+expected to return the little amount borrowed of Keepum, through the
+agency of Mr. Snivel. Again and again has he been notified that he must
+pay or go to that place in which we lock up all our very estimable
+"first families," whose money has taken wings and flown away. Not
+content with this, the two worthy gentlemen have more than once invaded
+the Antiquary's back parlor, and offered, as we have described in a
+former chapter, improper advances to his daughter.
+
+Mr. Keepum, dressed in a flashy coat, his sharp, mercenary face, hectic
+of night revels, and his small but wicked eyes wandering over Mr.
+McArthur's stock in trade, is seen in pursuit of his darling object. "I
+don't mind so much about the pay, old man! I'm up well in the world. The
+fact is, I am esteemed--and I am!--a public benefactor. I never forget
+how much we owe to the chivalric spirit of our ancestors, and in dealing
+with the poor--money matters and politics are different from anything
+else--I am too generous. I don't mind my own interests enough. There it
+is!" Mr. Keepum says this with an evident relief to himself. Indeed it
+must here be acknowledged that this very excellent member of the St.
+Cecilia Society, and profound dealer in lottery tickets, like our fine
+gentlemen who are so scrupulous of their chivalry while stabbing men
+behind their backs, fancies himself one of the most disinterested beings
+known to generous nature.
+
+Bent and tottering, the old man recounts the value of his curiosities;
+which, like our chivalry, is much talked of but hard to get at. He
+offers in apology for the nonpayment of the debt his knowledge of the
+old continentals, just as we offer our chivalry in excuse for every
+disgraceful act--every savage law. In fine, he follows the maxims of our
+politicians, recapitulating a dozen or more things (wiping the sweat
+from his brow the while) that have no earthly connection with the
+subject. "They are all very well," Mr. Keepum rejoins, with an air of
+self-importance, dusting the ashes from his cigar. He only wishes to
+impress the old man with the fact that he is his very best friend.
+
+And having somewhat relieved the Antiquary's mind of its apprehensions,
+for McArthur stood in great fear of duns, Mr. Keepum pops, uninvited,
+into the "back parlor," where he has not long been when Maria's screams
+for assistance break forth.
+
+"Ah! I am old--there is not much left me now. Yes, I am old, my
+infirmities are upon me. Pray, good man, spare me my daughter. Nay, you
+must not break the peace of my house;" mutters the old man, advancing
+into the room, with infirm step, and looking wistfully at his daughter,
+as if eager to clasp her in his arms. Maria stands in a defiant
+attitude, her left hand poised on a chair, and her right pointing
+scornfully in the face of Keepum, who recoils under the look of
+withering scorn that darkens her countenance. "A gentleman! begone,
+knave! for your looks betray you. You cannot buy my ruin with your gold;
+you cannot deceive me with your false tongue. If hate were a noble
+passion, I would not vent that which now agitates my bosom on you. Nay,
+I would reserve it for a better purpose--"
+
+"Indeed, indeed--now I say honestly, your daughter mistakes me. I was
+only being a little friendly to her," interrupts the chopfallen man. He
+did not think her capable of summoning so much passion to her aid.
+
+Maria, it must be said, was one of those seemingly calm natures in which
+resentment takes deepest root, in which the passions are most violent
+when roused. Solitude does, indeed, tend to invest the passionate nature
+with a calm surface. A less penetrating observer than the chivalrous
+Keepum, might have discovered in Maria a spirit he could not so easily
+humble to his uses. It is the modest, thoughtful woman, you cannot make
+lick the dust in sorrow and tears. "Coward! you laid ruffian hands on
+me!" says Maria, again towering to her height, and giving vent to her
+feelings.
+
+"Madam, Madam," pursues Keepum, trembling and crouching, "you asperse my
+honor,--my sacred honor, Madam. You see--let me say a word, now--you are
+letting your temper get the better of you. I never, and the public know
+I never did--I never did a dishonorable thing in my life." Turning to
+the bewildered old man, he continues: "to be called a knave, and
+upbraided in this manner by your daughter, when I have befriended you
+all these days!" His wicked eyes fall guilty to the floor.
+
+"Out man!--out! Let your sense of right, if you have it, teach you what
+is friendship. Know that, like mercy, it is not poured out with hands
+reeking of female dishonor."
+
+Mr. Keepum, like many more of our very fine gentlemen, had so trained
+his thoughts to look upon the poor as slaves created for a base use,
+that he neither could bring his mind to believe in the existence of such
+things as noble spirits under humble roofs, nor to imagine himself--even
+while committing the grossest outrages--doing aught to sully the high
+chivalric spirit he fancied he possessed. The old Antiquary, on the
+other hand, was not a little surprised to find his daughter displaying
+such extraordinary means of repulsing an enemy.
+
+Trembling, and childlike he stands, conscious of being in the grasp of a
+knave, whose object was more the ruin of his daughter than the recovery
+of a small amount of money, the tears glistening in his eyes, and the
+finger of old age marked on his furrowed brow.
+
+"Father, father!" says Maria, and the words hang upon her quivering
+lips, her face becomes pale as marble, her strength deserts her,--she
+trembles from head to foot, and sinks upon the old man's bosom,
+struggling to smother her sobs. Her passion has left her; her calmer
+nature has risen up to rebuke it. The old man leads her tenderly to the
+sofa, and there seeks to sooth her troubled spirit.
+
+"As if this hub bub was always to last!" a voice speaks suddenly. It is
+the Hon. Mr. Snivel, who looks in at the eleventh hour, as he says, to
+find affairs always in a fuss. "Being a man of legal knowledge--always
+ready to do a bit of a good turn--especially in putting a disordered
+house to rights--I thought it well to look in, having a leisure minute
+or two (we have had a convention for dissolving the Union, and passed a
+vote to that end!) to give to my old friends," Mr. Snivel says, in a
+voice at once conciliating and insinuating. "I always think of a border
+feud when I come here--things that find no favor with me." Mr. Snivel,
+having first patted the old man on the shoulder, exchanges a significant
+wink with his friend Keepum, and then bestows upon him what he is
+pleased to call a little wholesome advice. "People misunderstand Mr.
+Keepum," he says, "who is one of the most generous of men, but lacks
+discretion, and in trying to be polite to everybody, lets his feelings
+have too much latitude now and then." Maria buries her face in her
+handkerchief, as if indifferent to the reconciliation offered.
+
+"Now let this all be forgotten--let friendship reign among friends:
+that's my motto. But! I say,--this is a bad piece of news we have this
+morning. Clipped this from an English paper," resumes the Hon.
+gentleman, drawing coolly from his pocket a bit of paper, having the
+appearance of an extract.
+
+"You are never without some kind of news--mostly bad!" says Keepum,
+flinging himself into a chair, with an air of restored confidence. Mr.
+Snivel bows, thanks the gentleman for the compliment, and commences to
+read. "This news," he adds, "may be relied upon, having come from
+Lloyd's List: 'Intelligence was received here (this is, you must
+remember, from a London paper, he says, in parentheses) this morning, of
+the total loss of the American ship ----, bound from this port for
+Charleston, U.S., near the Needles. Every soul on board, except the
+Captain and second mate, perished. The gale was one of the worst ever
+known on this coast--'"
+
+"The worst ever known on this coast!" ejaculates Mr. Keepum, his wicked
+eyes steadily fixed upon Maria. "One of Trueman's ships," Mr. Snivel
+adds. "Unlucky fellow, that Trueman--second ship he has lost."
+
+"By-the-bye," rejoins Keepum, as if a thought has just flashed upon him,
+"your old friend, Tom Swiggs, was supercargo, clerk, or whatever you may
+call it, aboard that ship, eh?"
+
+It is the knave who can most naturally affect surprise and regret when
+it suits his purposes, and Mr. Snivel is well learned in the art.
+"True!" he says, "as I'm a Christian. Well, I had made a man of him--I
+don't regret it, for I always liked him--and this is the end of the poor
+fellow, eh?" Turning to McArthur, he adds, rather unconcernedly: "You
+know somewhat of him?" The old man sits motionless beside his daughter,
+the changes of whose countenance discover the inward emotions that
+agitate her bosom. Her eyes fill with tears; she exchanges inquiring
+glances, first with Keepum, then with Snivel; then a thought strikes her
+that she received a letter from Tom, setting forth his prospects, and
+his intention to return in the ship above named. It was very natural
+that news thus artfully manufactured, and revealed with such apparent
+truthfulness, should produce a deep impression in the mind of an
+unsuspecting girl. Indeed, it was with some effort that she bore up
+under it. Expressions of grief she would fain suppress before the enemy
+gain a mastery over her--and ere they are gone the cup flows over, and
+she sinks exhausted upon the sofa.
+
+"There! good as far as it goes. You have now another mode of gaining the
+victory," Mr. Snivel whispers in the ear of his friend, Keepum; and the
+two gentlemen pass into the street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+IN WHICH A LAW IS SEEN TO SERVE BASE PURPOSES.
+
+
+Maria has passed a night of unhappiness. Hopes and fears are knelling in
+the morning, which brings nothing to relieve her anxiety for the absent
+one; and Mr. Snivel has taken the precaution to have the news of the
+lost ship find its way into the papers.
+
+And while our city seems in a state of very general excitement; while
+great placards on every street corner inform the wondering stranger that
+a mighty Convention (presided over by the Hon. S. Snivel) for dissolving
+the Union, is shortly to be holden; while our political world has got
+the Union on its shoulders, and threatens to throw it into the nearest
+ditch; while our streets swarm with long, lean, and very hairy-faced
+delegates (all lusty of war and secession), who have dragged themselves
+into the city to drink no end of whiskey, and say all sorts of foolish
+things their savage and half-civilized constituents are expected to
+applaud; while our more material and conservative citizens are thinking
+what asses we make of ourselves; while the ship-of-war we built to fight
+the rest of the Union, lies an ugly lump in the harbor, and "won't go
+over the bar;" while the "shoe-factory" we established to supply
+niggerdom with soles, is snuffed out for want of energy and capacity to
+manage it; while some of our non-slaveholding, but most active secession
+merchants, are moving seriously in the great project of establishing a
+"SOUTHERN CANDLE-FACTORY"--a thing much needed in the "up-country;"
+while our graver statesmen (who don't get the State out of the Union
+fast enough for the ignorant rabble, who have nothing but their folly at
+stake) are pondering over the policy of spending five hundred thousand
+dollars for the building of another war-ship--one that "will go over the
+bar;" and while curiously-written letters from Generals Commander and
+Quattlebum, offering to bring their allied forces into the field--to
+blow this confederation down at a breath whenever called upon, are being
+published, to the great joy of all secessiondom; while saltpetre,
+broadswords, and the muskets made for us by Yankees to fight Yankees,
+and which were found to have wood instead of flint in their hammers,
+(and which trick of the Yankees we said was just like the Yankees,) are
+in great demand--and a few of our mob-politicians, who are all "Kern'ls"
+of regiments that never muster, prove conclusively our necessity for
+keeping a fighting-man in Congress; while, we assert, many of our first
+and best known families have sunk the assemblies of the St. Cecilia in
+the more important question of what order of government will best
+suit--in the event of our getting happily out of the Union!--our refined
+and very exacting state of society;--whether an Empire or a Monarchy,
+and whether we ought to set up a Quattlebum or Commander
+dynasty?--whether the Bungle family or the Jungle family (both fighting
+families) will have a place nearest the throne; what sort of orders will
+be bestowed, who will get them, and what colored liveries will best
+become us (all of which grave questions threaten us with a very
+extensive war of families)?--while all these great matters find us in a
+sea of trouble, there enters the curiosity-shop of the old Antiquary a
+suspicious-looking individual in green spectacles.
+
+"Mr. Hardscrabble!" says the man, bowing and taking a seat, leisurely,
+upon the decrepit sofa. Mr. McArthur returns his salutation,
+contemplates him doubtingly for a minute, then resumes his fussing and
+brushing.
+
+The small, lean figure; the somewhat seedy broadcloth in which it is
+enveloped; the well-browned and very sharp features; the straight,
+dark-gray hair, and the absent manner of Mr. Hardscrabble, might, with
+the uninitiated, cause him to be mistaken for an "up-country" clergyman
+of the Methodist denomination.
+
+"Mr. Hardscrabble? Mr. Hardscrabble? Mr. Hardscrabble?" muses the
+Antiquary, canting his head wisely, "the Sheriff, as I'm a man of
+years!"
+
+Mr. Hardscrabble comforts his eyes with his spectacles, and having
+glanced vacantly over the little shop, as if to take an inventory of its
+contents, draws from his breast-pocket a paper containing very ominous
+seals and scrawls.
+
+"I'm reluctant about doing these things with an old man like you," Mr.
+Hardscrabble condescends to say, in a sharp, grating voice; "but I have
+to obey the demands of my office." Here he commences reading the paper
+to the trembling old man, who, having adjusted his broad-bowed
+spectacles, and arrayed them against the spectacles of Mr. Hardscrabble,
+says he thinks it contains a great many useless recapitulations.
+
+Mr. Hardscrabble, his eyes peering eagerly through his glasses, and his
+lower jaw falling and exposing the inner domain of his mouth, replies
+with an--"Umph." The old Antiquary was never before called upon to
+examine a document so confusing to his mind. Not content with a
+surrender of his property, it demands his body into the bargain--all at
+the suit of one Keepum. He makes several motions to go show it to his
+daughter; but that, Mr. Hardscrabble thinks, is scarce worth while. "I
+sympathize with you--knowing how frugal you have been through life. A
+list of your effects--if you have one--will save a deal of trouble. I
+fear (Mr. Hardscrabble works his quid) my costs will hardly come out of
+them."
+
+"There's a fortune in them--if the love of things of yore--" The old man
+hesitates, and shakes his head dolefully.
+
+"Yore!--a thing that would starve out our profession."
+
+"A little time to turn, you know. There's my stock of uniforms."
+
+"Well--I--know," Mr. Hardscrabble rejoins, with a drawl; "but I must
+lock up the traps. Yes, I must lock you up, and sell you out--unless you
+redeem before sale day; that you can't do, I suppose?"
+
+And while the old man totters into the little back parlor, and, giving
+way to his emotions, throws himself upon the bosom of his fond daughter,
+to whom he discloses his troubles, Mr. Hardscrabble puts locks and bolts
+upon his curiosity-shop. This important business done, he leads the old
+man away, and gives him a lodging in the old jail.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+A SHORT CHAPTER OF ORDINARY EVENTS.
+
+
+To bear up against the malice of inexorable enemies is at once the gift
+and the shield of a noble nature. And here it will be enough to say,
+that Maria bore the burden of her ills with fortitude and resignation,
+trusting in Him who rights the wronged, to be her deliverer. What took
+place when she saw her aged father led away, a prisoner; what thoughts
+invaded that father's mind when the prison bolt grated on his ear, and
+he found himself shut from all that had been dear to him through life,
+regard for the feelings of the reader forbids us recounting here.
+
+Naturally intelligent, Maria had, by close application to books,
+acquired some knowledge of the world. Nor was she entirely ignorant of
+those arts designing men call to their aid when seeking to effect the
+ruin of the unwary female. Thus fortified, she fancied she saw in the
+story of the lost ship a plot against herself, while the persecution of
+her father was only a means to effect the object. Launched between hope
+and fear, then--hope that her lover still lived, and that with his
+return her day would brighten--fear lest the report might be founded in
+truth, she nerves herself for the struggle. She knew full well that to
+give up in despair--to cast herself upon the cold charities of a busy
+world, would only be to hasten her downfall. Indeed, she had already
+felt how cold, and how far apart were the lines that separated our rich
+from our poor.
+
+The little back parlor is yet spared to Maria, and in it she may now be
+seen plying at her needle, early and late. It is the only means left her
+of succoring the parent from whom she has been so ruthlessly separated.
+Hoping, fearing, bright to-day and dark to-morrow, willing to work and
+wait--here she sits. A few days pass, and the odds and ends of the
+Antiquary's little shop, like the "shirts" of the gallant Fremont, whom
+we oppressed while poor, and essayed to flatter when a hero, are
+gazetted under the head of "sheriff's sale." Hope, alas! brings no
+comfort to Maria. Time rolls on, the month's rent falls due, her father
+pines and sinks in confinement, and her needle is found inadequate to
+the task undertaken. Necessity demands, and one by one she parts with
+her few cherished mementos of the past, that she may save an aged father
+from starvation.
+
+The "prisoner" has given notice that he will take the benefit of the
+act--commonly called "an act for the relief of poor debtors." But before
+he can reach this boon, ten days must elapse. Generous-minded
+legislators, no doubt, intended well when they constructed this act, but
+so complex are its provisions that any legal gentleman may make it a
+very convenient means of oppression. And in a community where laws not
+only have their origin in the passions of men, but are made to serve
+popular prejudices--where the quality of justice obtained depends upon
+the position and sentiments of him who seeks it,--the weak have no
+chance against the powerful.
+
+The multiplicity of notices, citations, and schedules, necessary to the
+setting free of this "poor debtor" (for these fussy officials must be
+paid), Maria finds making a heavy drain on her lean purse.
+
+The Court is in session, and the ten days having glided away, the old
+man is brought into "open Court" by two officials with long tipstaffs,
+and faces looking as if they had been carefully pickled in strong
+drinks. "Surely, now, they'll set me free--I can give them no more--I am
+old and infirm--they have got all--and my daughter!" he muses within
+himself. Ah! he little knows how uncertain a thing is the law.
+
+The Judge is engaged over a case in which two very fine old families are
+disputing for the blood and bones of a little "nigger" girl. The
+possession of this helpless slave, the Judge (he sits in easy dignity)
+very naturally regards of superior importance when compared with the
+freedom of a "poor debtor." He cannot listen to the story of
+destitution--precisely what was sought by Keepum--to-day, and to-morrow
+the Court adjourns for six months.
+
+The Antiquary is remanded back to his cell. No one in Court cares for
+him; no one has a thought for the achings of that heart his release
+would unburden; the sorrows of that lone girl are known only to herself
+and the One in whom she puts her trust. She, nevertheless, seeks the old
+man in his prison, and there comforts him as best she can.
+
+Five days more, and the "prisoner" is brought before the Commissioner
+for Special Bail, who is no less a personage than the rosy-faced Clerk
+of the Court, just adjourned. And here we cannot forbear to say, that
+however despicable the object sought, however barren of right the plea,
+however adverse to common humanity the spirit of the action, there is
+always to be found some legal gentleman, true to the lower instincts of
+the profession, ready to lend himself to his client's motives. And in
+this instance, the cunning Keepum finds an excellent instrument of
+furthering his ends, in one Peter Crimpton, a somewhat faded and rather
+disreputable member of the learned profession. It is said of Crimpton,
+that he is clever at managing cases where oppression rather than justice
+is sought, and that his present client furnishes the larger half of his
+practice.
+
+And while Maria, too sensitive to face the gaze of the coarse crowd,
+pauses without, silent and anxious, listening one moment and hoping the
+next will see her old father restored to her, the adroit Crimpton rises
+to object to "the Schedule." To the end that he may substantiate his
+objections, he proposes to examine the prisoner. Having no alternative,
+the Commissioner grants the request.
+
+The old Antiquary made out his schedule with the aid of the good-hearted
+jailer, who inserted as his effects, "_Necessary wearing apparel_." It
+was all he had. Like the gallant Fremont, when he offered to resign his
+shirts to his chivalric creditor, he could give them no more. A few
+questions are put; the old man answers them with childlike simplicity,
+then sits down, his trembling fingers wandering into his beard. Mr.
+Crimpton produces his paper, sets forth his objections, and asks
+permission to file them, that the case may come before a jury of
+"Special Bail."
+
+Permission is granted. The reader will not fail to discover the object
+of this procedure. Keepum hopes to continue the old man in prison, that
+he may succeed in breaking down the proud spirit of his daughter.
+
+The Commissioner listens attentively to the reading of the objections.
+The first sets forth that Mr. McArthur has a gold watch;[7] the second,
+that he has a valuable breastpin, said to have been worn by Lord
+Cornwallis; and the third, that he has one Yorick's skull. All of these,
+Mr. Crimpton regrets to say, are withheld from the schedule, which
+virtually constitutes fraud. The facile Commissioner bows; the assembled
+crowd look on unmoved; but the old man shakes his head and listens. He
+is surprised to find himself accused of fraud; but the law gives him no
+power to show his own innocence. The Judge of the Sessions was competent
+to decide the question now raised, and to have prevented this reverting
+to a "special jury"--this giving the vindictive plaintiff a means of
+torturing his infirm victim. Had he but listened to the old man's tale
+of poverty, he might have saved the heart of that forlorn girl many a
+bitter pang.
+
+[Footnote 7: Our Charleston readers will recognize the case here
+described, without any further key.]
+
+The motion granted, a day is appointed--ten days must elapse--for a
+hearing before the Commissioner of "Special Bail," and his special jury.
+The rosy-faced functionary, being a jolly and somewhat flexible sort of
+man, must needs give his health an airing in the country. What is the
+liberty of a poor white with us? Our Governor, whom we esteem singularly
+sagacious, said it were better all our poor were enslaved, and this
+opinion finds high favor with our first families. The worthy
+Commissioner, in addition to taking care of his health, is expected to
+make any number of speeches, full of wind and war, to several recently
+called Secession Conventions. He will find time (being a General by
+courtesy) to review the up-country militia, and the right and left
+divisions of the South Carolina army. He will be feted by some few of
+our most distinguished Generals, and lecture before the people of
+Beaufort (a very noisy town of forty-two inhabitants, all heroes), to
+whom he will prove the necessity of our State providing itself with an
+independent steam navy.
+
+The old Antiquary is remanded back to jail--to wait the coming day.
+Maria, almost breathless with anxiety, runs to him as he comes tottering
+out of Court in advance of the official, lays her trembling hand upon
+his arm, and looks inquiringly in his face. "Oh! my father, my
+father!--released? released?" she inquires, with quivering lips and
+throbbing heart. A forced smile plays over his time-worn face, he looks
+upward, shakes his head in sorrow, and having patted her affectionately
+on the shoulder, throws his arms about her neck and kisses her. That
+mute appeal, that melancholy voucher of his sorrows, knells the painful
+answer in her ears, "Then you are not free to come with me? Oh, father,
+father!" and she wrings her hands and gives vent to her tears.
+
+"The time will come, my daughter, when my Judge will hear me--will judge
+me right. My time will come soon--" And here the old man pauses, and
+chokes with his emotions. Maria returns the old man's kiss, and being
+satisfied that he is yet in the hands of his oppressors, sets about
+cheering up his drooping spirits. "Don't think of me, father," she
+says--"don't think of me! Let us put our trust in Him who can shorten
+the days of our tribulation." She takes the old man's arm, and like one
+who would forget her own troubles in her anxiety to relieve another,
+supports him on his way back to prison.
+
+It is high noon. She stands before the prison gate, now glancing at the
+serene sky, then at the cold, frowning walls, and again at the old pile,
+as if contemplating the wearying hours he must pass within it. "Don't
+repine--nerve yourself with resolution, and all will be well!" Having
+said this with an air of confidence in herself, she throws her arms
+about the old man's neck, presses him to her bosom, kisses and kisses
+his wrinkled cheek, then grasps his hand warmly in her own. "Forget
+those who persecute you, for it is good. Look above, father--to Him who
+tempers the winds, who watches over the weak, and gives the victory to
+the right!" She pauses, as the old man holds her hand in silence. "This
+life is but a transient sojourn at best; full of hopes and fears, that,
+like a soldier's dream, pass away when the battle is ended." Again she
+fondly shakes his hand, lisps a sorrowing "good-bye," watches him, in
+silence, out of sight, then turns away in tears, and seeks her home.
+There is something so pure, so earnest in her solicitude for the old
+man, that it seems more of heaven than earth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+A STORY WITHOUT WHICH THIS HISTORY WOULD BE FOUND WANTING.
+
+
+On taking leave of her father, Maria, her heart overburdened with grief,
+and her mind abstracted, turned towards the Battery, and continued,
+slowly and sadly, until she found herself seated beneath a tree, looking
+out upon the calm bay. Here, scarce conscious of those who were
+observing her in their sallies, she mused until dusky evening, when the
+air seemed hushed, and the busy hum of day was dying away in the
+distance. The dark woodland on the opposite bank gave a bold border to
+the soft picture; the ships rode sluggishly upon the polished waters;
+the negro's touching song echoed and re-echoed along the shore; and the
+boatman's chorus broke upon the stilly air in strains so dulcet. And as
+the mellow shadows of night stole over the scene--as the heavens looked
+down in all their sereneness, and the stars shone out, and twinkled, and
+laughed, and danced upon the blue waters, and coquetted with the
+moonbeams--for the moon was up, and shedding a halo of mystic light over
+the scene--making night merry, nature seemed speaking to Maria in words
+of condolence. Her heart was touched, her spirits gained strength, her
+soul seemed in a loftier and purer atmosphere.
+
+"Poor, but virtuous--virtue ennobles the poor. Once gone, the world
+never gives it back!" she muses, and is awakened from her reverie by a
+sweet, sympathizing voice, whispering in her ear. "Woman! you are in
+trouble,--linger no longer here, or you will fall into the hands of your
+enemies." She looks up, and there stands at her side a young female,
+whose beauty the angels might envy. The figure came upon her so suddenly
+that she hesitates for a reply to the admonition.
+
+"Take this, it will do something toward relieving your wants (do not
+open it now), and with this (she places a stiletto in her hand) you can
+strike down the one who attempts your virtue. Nay, remember that while
+you cling to that, you are safe--lose it, and you are gone forever. Your
+troubles will soon end; mine are for a life-time. Yours find a
+relaxation in your innocence; mine is seared into my heart with my own
+shame. It is guilt--shame! that infuses into the heart that poison, for
+which years of rectitude afford no antidote. Go quickly--get from this
+lone place! You are richer than me." She slips something into Maria's
+hand, and suddenly disappears.
+
+Maria rises from her seat, intending to follow the stranger, but she is
+out of sight. Who can this mysterious messenger, this beautiful stranger
+be? Maria muses. A thought flashes across her mind; it is she who sought
+our house at midnight, when my father revealed her dark future! "Yes,"
+she says to herself, "it is the same lovely face; how oft it has flitted
+in my fancy!"
+
+She reaches her home only to find its doors closed against her. A
+ruthless landlord has taken her all, and forced her into the street.
+
+You may shut out the sterner sex without involving character or inviting
+insult; but with woman the case is very different. However pure her
+character, to turn her into the street, is to subject her to a stigma,
+if not to fasten upon her a disgrace. You may paint, in your
+imagination, the picture of a woman in distress, but you can know little
+of the heart-achings of the sufferer. The surface only reflects the
+faint gleams, standing out here and there like the lesser objects upon a
+dark canvas.
+
+Maria turns reluctantly from that home of so many happy associations, to
+wander about the streets and by-ways of the city. The houses of the rich
+seem frowning upon her; her timid nature tells her they have no doors
+open to her. The haunts of the poor, at this moment, infuse a sanguine
+joyousness into her soul. How glad would she be, if they did but open to
+her. Is not the Allwise, through the beauties of His works, holding her
+up, while man only is struggling to pull her down?
+
+And while Maria wanders homeless about the streets of Charleston, we
+must beg you, gentle reader, to accompany us into one of the great
+thoroughfares of London, where is being enacted a scene appertaining to
+this history.
+
+It is well-nigh midnight, the hour when young London is most astir in
+his favorite haunts; when ragged and well-starved flower-girls, issuing
+from no one knows where, beset your path through Trafalgar and Liecester
+squares, and pierce your heart with their pleadings; when the Casinoes
+of the Haymarket and Picadilly are vomiting into the streets their frail
+but richly-dressed women; when gaudy supper-rooms, reeking of lobster
+and bad liquor, are made noisy with the demands of their
+flauntily-dressed customers; when little girls of thirteen are dodging
+in and out of mysterious courts and passages leading to and from
+Liecester square; when wily cabmen, ranged around the "great globe,"
+importune you for a last fare; and when the aristocratic swell, with
+hectic face and maudlin laugh, saunters from his club-room to seek
+excitement in the revels at Vauxhall.
+
+A brown mist hangs over the dull area of Trafalgar square. The bells of
+old St. Martin's church have chimed merrily out their last night peal;
+the sharp voice of the omnibus conductor no longer offends the ear; the
+tiny little fountains have ceased to give out their green water; and the
+lights of the Union Club on one side, and Morley's hotel on the other,
+throw pale shadows into the open square.
+
+The solitary figure of a man, dressed in the garb of a gentleman, is
+seen sauntering past Northumberland house, then up the east side of the
+square. Now he halts at the corner of old St. Martin's church, turns and
+contemplates the scene before him. On his right is that squatty mass of
+freestone and smoke, Englishmen exultingly call the Royal Academy, but
+which Frenchmen affect contempt for, and uninitiated Americans mistake
+for a tomb. An equestrian statue of one of the Georges rises at the east
+corner; Morley's Hotel, where Americans get poor fare and enormous
+charges, with the privilege of fancying themselves quite as good as the
+queen, on the left; the dead walls of Northumberland House, with their
+prisonlike aspect, and the mounted lion, his tail high in air, and quite
+as rigid as the Duke's dignity, in front; the opening that terminates
+the Strand, and gives place to Parliament street, at the head of which
+an equestrian statue of Charles the First, much admired by Englishmen,
+stands, his back on Westminster; the dingy shops of Spring Garden, and
+the Union Club to the right; and, towering high over all, Nelson's
+Column, the statue looking as if it had turned its back in pity on the
+little fountains, to look with contempt, first upon the bronze face of
+the unfortunate Charles, then upon Parliament, whose parsimony in
+withholding justice from his daughter, he would rebuke--and the picture
+is complete.
+
+The stranger turns, walks slowly past the steps of St. Martin's church,
+crosses to the opposite side of the street, and enters a narrow, wet,
+and dimly-lighted court, on the left. Having passed up a few paces, he
+finds himself hemmed in between the dead walls of St. Martin's
+"Work-house" on one side, and the Royal Academy on the other. He
+hesitates between fear and curiosity. The dull, sombre aspect of the
+court is indeed enough to excite the fears of the timid; but curiosity
+being the stronger impulse, he proceeds, resolved to explore it--to see
+whence it leads.
+
+A short turn to the right, and he has reached the front wall of the
+Queen's Barracks, on his left, and the entrance to the "Work-house," on
+his right; the one overlooking the other, and separated by a narrow
+street. Leave men are seen reluctantly returning in at the night-gate;
+the dull tramp of the sentinel within sounds ominously on the still air;
+and the chilly atmosphere steals into the system. Again the stranger
+pauses, as if questioning the safety of his position. Suddenly a low
+moan grates upon his ear, he starts back, then listens. Again it rises,
+in a sad wail, and pierces his very heart. His first thought is, that
+some tortured mortal is bemoaning his bruises in a cell of the
+"Work-house," which he mistakes for a prison. But his eyes fall to the
+ground, and his apprehensions are dispelled.
+
+The doors of the "Work-house" are fast closed; but there, huddled along
+the cold pavement, and lying crouched upon its doorsteps, in heaps that
+resemble the gatherings of a rag-seller, are four-and-thirty shivering,
+famishing, and homeless human beings--[8] (mostly young girls and aged
+women), who have sought at this "institution of charity" shelter for the
+night, and bread to appease their hunger.[9] Alas! its ruthless keepers
+have refused them bread, shut them into the street, and left them in
+rags scarce sufficient to cover their nakedness, to sleep upon the cold
+stones, a mute but terrible rebuke to those hearts that bleed over the
+sorrows of Africa, but have no blood to give out when the object of pity
+is a poor, heart-sick girl, forced to make the cold pavement her bed.
+The stranger shudders. "Are these heaps of human beings?" he questions
+within himself, doubting the reality before him. As if counting and
+hesitating what course to pursue for their relief, he paces up and down
+the grotesque mass, touching one, and gazing upon the haggard features
+of another, who looks up to see what it is that disturbs her. Again the
+low moan breaks on his ear, as the sentinel cries the first hour of
+morning. The figure of a female, her head resting on one of the steps,
+moves, a trembling hand steals from under her shawl, makes an effort to
+reach her head, and falls numb at her side. "Her hand is cold--her
+breathing like one in death--oh! God!--how terrible--what, what am I to
+do?" he says, taking the sufferer's hand in his own. Now he rubs it, now
+raises her head, makes an effort to wake a few of the miserable
+sleepers, and calls aloud for help. "Help! help! help!" he shouts, and
+the shout re-echoes through the air and along the hollow court. "A woman
+is dying,--dying here on the cold stones--with no one to raise a hand
+for her!" He seizes the exhausted woman in his arms, and with herculean
+strength rushes up the narrow street, in the hope of finding relief at
+the Gin Palace he sees at its head, in a blaze of light. But the body is
+seized with spasms, an hollow, hysteric wail follows, his strength gives
+way under the burden, and he sets the sufferer down in the shadow of a
+gas light. Her dress, although worn threadbare, still bears evidence of
+having belonged to one who has enjoyed comfort, and, perhaps, luxury.
+Indeed, there is something about the woman which bespeaks her not of the
+class generally found sleeping on the steps of St. Martin's Work-house.
+
+[Footnote 8: An institution for the relief of the destitute.]
+
+[Footnote 9: This sight may be seen at any time.]
+
+"What's here to do?" gruffly inquires a policeman, coming up with an air
+of indifference. The stranger says the woman is dying. The policeman
+stoops down, lays his hand upon her temples, then mechanically feels her
+arms and hands.
+
+"And I--must die--die--die in the street," whispers the woman, her head
+falling carelessly from the policeman's hand, in which it had rested.
+
+"Got her a bit below, at the Work'ouse door, among them wot sleeps
+there, eh?"
+
+The stranger says he did.
+
+"A common enough thing," pursues the policeman; "this a bad lot. Anyhow,
+we must give her a tow to the station." He rubs his hands, and prepares
+to raise her from the ground.
+
+"Hold! hold," interrupts the other, "she will die ere you get her
+there."
+
+"Die,--ah! yes, yes," whispers the woman. The mention of death seems to
+have wrung like poison into her very soul. "Don't--don't move me--the
+spell is almost broken. Oh! how can I die here, a wretch. Yes, I am
+going now--let me rest, rest, rest," the moaning supplicant mutters in a
+guttural voice, grasps spasmodically at the policeman's hand, heaves a
+deep sigh, and sets her eyes fixedly upon the stranger. She seems
+recognizing in his features something that gives her strength.
+
+"There--there--there!" she continues, incoherently, as a fit of
+hysterics seize upon her; "you, you, you, have--yes, you have come at
+the last hour, when my sufferings close. I see devils all about
+me--haunting me--torturing my very soul--burning me up! See them! see
+them!--here they come--tearing, worrying me--in a cloud of flame!" She
+clutches with her hands, her countenance fills with despair, and her
+body writhes in agony.
+
+"Bring brandy! warm,--stimulant! anything to give her strength! Quick!
+quick!--go fetch it, or she is gone!" stammers out the stranger.
+
+In another minute she calms away, and sinks exhausted upon the pavement.
+Policeman shakes his head, and says, "It 'ont do no good--she's done
+for."
+
+The light of the "Trumpeter's Arms" still blazes into the street, while
+a few greasy ale-bibbers sit moody about the tap-room.
+
+The two men raise the exhausted woman from the ground and carry her to
+the door. Mine host of the Trumpeter's Arms shrugs his shoulders and
+says, "She can't come in here." He fears she will damage the
+respectability of his house. "The Work-house is the place for her," he
+continues, gruffly.
+
+A sight at the stranger's well-filled purse, however, and a few
+shillings slipped into the host's hand, secures his generosity and the
+woman's admittance. "Indeed," says the host, bowing most servilely,
+"gentlemen, the whole Trumpeter's Arms is at your service." The woman is
+carried into a lonely, little back room, and laid upon a cot, which,
+with two wooden chairs, constitutes its furniture. And while the
+policeman goes in search of medical aid, the host of the Trumpeter's
+bestirs himself right manfully in the forthcoming of a stimulant. The
+stranger, meanwhile, lends himself to the care of the forlorn sufferer
+with the gentleness of a woman. He smoothes her pillow, arranges her
+dress tenderly, and administers the stimulant with a hand accustomed to
+the sick.
+
+A few minutes pass, and the woman seems to revive and brighten up. Mine
+host has set a light on the chair, at the side of the cot, and left her
+alone with the stranger. Slowly she opens her eyes, and with increasing
+anxiety sets them full upon him. Their recognition is mutual. "Madame
+Flamingo!" ejaculates the man, grasping her hand.
+
+"Tom Swiggs!" exclaims the woman, burying her face for a second, then
+pressing his hand to her lips, and kissing it with the fondness of a
+child, as her eyes swim in tears. "How strange to find you thus--"
+continues Tom, for truly it is he who sits by the forlorn woman.
+
+"More strange," mutters the woman, shaking her head sorrowfully, "that I
+should be brought to this terrible end. I am dying--I cannot last
+long--the fever has left me only to die a neglected wretch. Hear
+me--hear me, while I tell you the tale of my troubles, that others may
+take warning. And may God give me strength. And you--if I have wronged
+you, forgive me--it is all I can ask in this world." Here Tom
+administers another draught of warm brandy and water, the influence of
+which is soon perceptible in the regaining strength of the patient.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+A STORY WITH MANY COUNTERPARTS.
+
+
+A very common story is this of Madame Flamingo's troubles. It has
+counterparts enough, and though they may be traced to a class of society
+less notorious than that with which she moved, are generally kept in the
+dark chamber of hidden thoughts. We are indeed fast gaining an
+unenviable fame for snobbery, for affecting to be what we never can be,
+and for our sad imitation of foreign flunkydom, which, finding us rivals
+in the realm of its tinsil, begins to button up its coat and look
+contemptuously at us over the left shoulder. If, albeit, the result of
+that passion for titles and plush (things which the empty-headed of the
+old world would seem to have consigned to the empty-headed of the new),
+which has of late so singularly discovered itself among our "best-known
+families," could be told, it would unfold many a tale of misery and
+betrayal. Pardon this digression, generous reader, and proceed with us
+to the story of Madame Flamingo.
+
+"And now," says the forlorn woman, in a faint, hollow voice, "when my
+ambition seemed served--I was ambitious, perhaps vain--I found myself
+the victim of an intrigue. I ask forgiveness of Him who only can forgive
+the wicked; but how can I expect to gain it?" She presses Tom's hand,
+and pauses for a second. "Yes, I was ambitious," she continues, "and
+there was something I wanted. I had money enough to live in comfort,
+but the thought that it was got of vice and the ruin of others, weighed
+me down. I wanted the respect of the world. To die a forgotten wretch;
+to have the grave close over me, and if remembered at all, only with
+execration, caused me many a dark thought." Here she struggles to
+suppress her emotions. "I sought to change my condition; that, you see,
+has brought me here. I married one to whom I intrusted my all, in whose
+rank, as represented to me by Mr. Snivel, and confirmed by his friend,
+the Judge, I confided. I hoped to move with him to a foreign country,
+where the past would all be wiped out, and where the associations of
+respectable society would be the reward of future virtue.
+
+"In London, where I now reap the fruits of my vanity, we enjoyed good
+society for a time, were sought after, and heaped with attentions. But I
+met those who had known me; it got out who I was; I was represented much
+worse than I was, and even those who had flattered me in one sphere, did
+not know me. In Paris it was the same. And there my husband said it
+would not do to be known by his titles, for, being an exile, it might be
+the means of his being recognized and kidnapped, and carried back a
+prisoner to his own dear Poland. In this I acquiesced, as I did in
+everything else that lightened his cares. Gradually he grew cold and
+morose towards me, left me for days at a time, and returned only to
+abuse and treat me cruelly. He had possession of all my money, which I
+soon found he was gambling away, without gaining an entrée for me into
+society.
+
+"From Paris we travelled, as if without any settled purpose, into Italy,
+and from thence to Vienna, where I discovered that instead of being a
+prince, my husband was an impostor, and I his dupe. He had formerly
+been a crafty shoemaker; was known to the police as a notorious
+character, who, instead of having been engaged in the political
+struggles of his countrymen, had fled the country to escape the penalty
+of being the confederate of a desperate gang of coiners and
+counterfeiters. We had only been two days in Vienna when I found he had
+disappeared, and left me destitute of money or friends. My connection
+with him only rendered my condition more deplorable, for the police
+would not credit my story; and while he eluded its vigilance, I was
+suspected of being a spy in the confidence of a felon, and ruthlessly
+ordered to leave the country."
+
+"Did not your passport protect you?" interrupts Tom, with evident
+feeling.
+
+"No one paid it the least regard," resumes Madame Flamingo, becoming
+weaker and weaker. "No one at our legations evinced sympathy for me.
+Indeed, they all refused to believe my story. I wandered back from city
+to city, selling my wardrobe and the few jewels I had left, and
+confidently expecting to find in each place I entered, some one I had
+known, who would listen to my story, and supply me with means to reach
+my home. I could soon have repaid it, but my friends had gone with my
+money; no one dare venture to trust me--no one had confidence in
+me--every one to whom I appealed had an excuse that betrayed their
+suspicion of me. Almost destitute, I found myself back in London--how I
+got here, I scarce know--where I could make myself understood. My hopes
+now brightened, I felt that some generous-hearted captain would give me
+a passage to New York, and once home, my troubles would end. But being
+worn down with fatigue, and my strength prostrated, a fever set in, and
+I was forced to seek refuge in a miserable garret in Drury-Lane, and
+where I parted with all but what now remains on my back, to procure
+nourishment. I had begun to recover somewhat, but the malady left me
+broken down, and when all was gone, I was turned into the street. Yes,
+yes, yes, (she whispers,) they gave me to the streets; for twenty-four
+hours I have wandered without nourishment, or a place to lay my head. I
+sought shelter in a dark court, and there laid down to die; and when my
+eyes were dim, and all before me seemed mysterious and dark with curious
+visions, a hand touched me, and I felt myself borne away." Here her
+voice chokes, she sinks back upon the pillow, and closes her eyes as her
+hands fall careless at her side. "She breathes! she breathes yet!" says
+Tom, advancing his ear to the pale, quivering lips of the wretched
+woman. Now he bathes her temples with the vinegar from a bottle in the
+hand of the host, who is just entered, and stands looking on, his
+countenance full of alarm.
+
+"If she deys in my 'ouse, good sir, w'oat then?"
+
+"You mean the expense?"
+
+"Just so--it 'll be nae trifle, ye kno'!" The host shakes his head,
+doubtingly. Tom begs he will not be troubled about that, and gives
+another assurance from his purse that quite relieves the host's
+apprehensions. A low, heavy breathing, followed by a return of spasms,
+bespeaks the sinking condition of the sufferer. The policeman returns,
+preceded by a physician--the only one to be got at, he says--in very
+dilapidated broadcloth, and whose breath is rather strong of gin. "An'
+whereabutes did ye pick the woman up,--an, an, wha's teu stond the
+bill?" he inquires, in a deep Scotch brogue, then ordering the little
+window opened, feels clumsily the almost pulseless hand. Encouraged on
+the matter of his bill, he turns first to the host, then to Tom, and
+says, "the wuman's nae much, for she's amast dede wi' exhaustion." And
+while he is ordering a nostrum he knows can do no good, the woman makes
+a violent struggle, opens her eyes, and seems casting a last glance
+round the dark room. Now she sets them fixedly upon the ceiling, her
+lips pale, and her countenance becomes spectre-like--a low, gurgling
+sound is heard, the messenger of retribution is come--Madame Flamingo is
+dead!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+IN WHICH THE LAW IS SEEN TO CONFLICT WITH OUR CHERISHED CHIVALRY.
+
+
+"What could the woman mean, when on taking leave of me she said, 'you
+are far richer than me?'" questions Maria McArthur to herself, when,
+finding she is alone and homeless in the street, she opens the packet
+the woman Anna slipped so mysteriously into her hand, and finds it
+contains two twenty-dollar gold pieces. And while evolving in her mind
+whether she shall appropriate them to the relief of her destitute
+condition, her conscience smites her. It is the gold got of vice. Her
+heart shares the impulse that prompted the act, but her pure spirit
+recoils from the acceptance of such charity. "You are far richer than
+me!" knells in her ears, and reveals to her the heart-burnings of the
+woman who lives in licentious splendor. "I have no home, no friend near
+me, and nowhere to lay my head; and yet I am richer than her;" she says,
+gazing at the moon, and the stars, and the serene heavens. And the
+contemplation brings to her consolation and strength. She wanders back
+to the gate of the old prison, resolved to return the gold in the
+morning, and, was the night not so far spent, ask admittance into the
+cell her father occupies. But she reflects, and turns away; well knowing
+how much more painful will be the smart of his troubles does she
+disclose to him what has befallen her.
+
+She continues sauntering up a narrow by-lane in the outskirts of the
+city. A light suddenly flashes across her path, glimmers from the window
+of a little cabin, and inspires her with new hopes. She quickens her
+steps, reaches the door, meets a welcome reception, and is made
+comfortable for the night by the mulatto woman who is its solitary
+tenant. The woman, having given Maria of her humble cheer, seems only
+too anxious to disclose the fact that she is the slave and cast-off
+mistress of Judge Sleepyhorn, on whose head she invokes no few curses.
+It does not touch her pride so much that he has abandoned her, as that
+he has taken to himself one of another color. She is tall and straight
+of figure, with prominent features, long, silky black hair, and a rich
+olive complexion; and though somewhat faded of age, it is clear that she
+possessed in youth charms of great value in the flesh market.
+
+Maria discloses to her how she came in possession of the money, as also
+her resolve to return it in the morning. Undine (for such is her name)
+applauds this with great gusto. "Now, thar!" she says, "that's the
+spirit I likes." And straightway she volunteers to be the medium of
+returning the money, adding that she will show the hussy her contempt of
+her by throwing it at her feet, and "letting her see a _slave_ knows all
+about it."
+
+Maria fully appreciates the kindness, as well as sympathizes with the
+wounded pride of this slave daughter; nevertheless, there is an
+humiliation in being driven to seek shelter in a negro cabin that
+touches her feelings. For a white female to seek shelter under the roof
+of a negro's cabin, is a deep disgrace in the eyes of our very refined
+society; and having subjected herself to the humiliation, she knows full
+well that it may be used against her--in fine, made a means to defame
+her character.
+
+Night passes away, and the morning ushers in soft and sunny, but brings
+with it nothing to relieve her situation. She, however, returns the gold
+to Anna through a channel less objectionable than that Undine would have
+supplied, and sallies out to seek lodgings. In a house occupied by a
+poor German family, she seeks and obtains a little room, wherein she
+continues plying at her needle.
+
+The day set apart for the trial before a jury of "special bail" arrives.
+The rosy-faced commissioner is in his seat, a very good-natured jury is
+impanelled, and the feeble old man is again brought into court. Maria
+saunters, thoughtful, and anxious for the result, at the outer door.
+Peter Crimpton rises, addresses the jury at great length, sets forth the
+evident intention of fraud on the part of the applicant, and the
+enormity of the crime. He will now prove his objections by competent
+witnesses. The proceedings being in accordance with what Mr. Snivel
+facetiously terms the strict rules of special pleading, the old man's
+lips are closed. Several very respectable witnesses are called, and aver
+they saw the old Antiquary with a gold watch mounted, at a recent date;
+witnesses quite as dependable aver they have known him for many years,
+but never mounted with anything so extravagant as a gold watch. So much
+for the validity of testimony! It is very clear that the very
+respectable witnesses have confounded some one else with the prisoner.
+
+The Antiquary openly confesses to the possession of a pin, and the
+curious skull (neither of which are valuable beyond their associations),
+but declares it more an oversight than an intention that they were left
+out of the schedule. For the virtue of the schedule, Mr. Crimpton is
+singularly scrupulous; nor does it soften his aspersions that the old
+man offers to resign them for the benefit of the State. Mr. Crimpton
+gives his case to the jury, expressing his belief that a verdict will be
+rendered in his favor. A verdict of guilty (for so it is rendered in our
+courts) will indeed give the prisoner to him for an indefinite period.
+In truth, the only drawback is that the plaintiff will be required to
+pay thirty cents a day to Mr. Hardscrabble, who will starve him rightly
+soundly.
+
+The jury, very much to Mr. Crimpton's chagrin, remain seated, and
+declare the prisoner not guilty. Was this sufficient--all the law
+demanded? No. Although justice might have been satisfied, the law had
+other ends to serve, and in the hands of an instrument like Crimpton,
+could be turned to uses delicacy forbids our transcribing here. The old
+man's persecutors were not satisfied; the verdict of the jury was with
+him, but the law gave his enemies power to retain him six months longer.
+Mr. Crimpton demands a writ of appeal to the sessions. The Commissioner
+has no alternative, notwithstanding the character of the pretext upon
+which it is demanded is patent on its face. Such is but a feeble
+description of one of the many laws South Carolina retains on her
+statute book to oppress the poor and give power to the rich. If we would
+but purge ourselves of this distemper of chivalry and secession, that so
+blinds our eyes to the sufferings of the poor, while driving our
+politicians mad over the country (we verily believe them all coming to
+the gallows or insane hospital), how much higher and nobler would be our
+claim to the respect of the world!
+
+Again the old man is separated from his daughter, placed in the hands of
+a bailiff, and remanded back to prison, there to hope, fear, and while
+away the time, waiting six, perhaps eight months, for the sitting of the
+Court of Appeals. The "Appeal Court," you must know, would seem to have
+inherited the aristocracy of our ancestors, for, having a great aversion
+to business pursuits, it sits at very long intervals, and gets through
+very little business.
+
+When the news of her father's remand reaches Maria, it overwhelms her
+with grief. Varied are her thoughts of how she shall provide for the
+future; dark and sad are the pictures of trouble that rise up before
+her. Look whichever way she will, her ruin seems sealed. The health of
+her aged father is fast breaking--her own is gradually declining under
+the pressure of her troubles. Rapidly forced from one extreme to
+another, she appeals to a few acquaintances who have expressed
+friendship for her father; but their friendship took wings when grim
+poverty looked in. Southern hospitality, though bountifully bestowed
+upon the rich, rarely condescends to shed its bright rays over the needy
+poor.
+
+Maria advertises for a situation, in some of our first families, as
+private seamstress. Our first families having slaves for such offices,
+have no need of "poor white trash." She applies personally to several
+ladies of "eminent standing," and who busy themselves in getting up
+donations for northern Tract Societies. They have no sympathy to waste
+upon her. Her appeal only enlists coldness and indifference. The "Church
+Home" had lent an ear to her story, but that her address is very
+unsatisfactory, and it is got out that she is living a very suspicious
+life. The "Church Home," so virtuous and pious, can do nothing for her
+until she improves her mode of living. Necessity pinches Maria at every
+turn. "To be poor in a slave atmosphere, is truly a crime," she says to
+herself, musing over her hard lot, while sitting in her chamber one
+evening. "But I am the richer! I will rise above all!" She has just
+prepared to carry some nourishment to her father, when Keepum enters,
+his face flushed, and his features darkened with a savage scowl. "I have
+said you were a fool--all women are fools!--and now I know I was not
+mistaken!" This Mr. Keepum says while throwing his hat sullenly upon the
+floor. "Well," he pursues, having seated himself in a chair, looked
+designingly at the candle, then contorted his narrow face, and frisked
+his fingers through his bright red hair, "as to this here wincing and
+mincing--its all humbuggery of a woman like you. Affecting such morals!
+Don't go down here; tell you that, my spunky girl. Loose morals is what
+takes in poor folks."
+
+Maria answers him only with a look of scorn. She advances to the door to
+find it locked.
+
+"It was me--I locked it. Best to be private about the matter," says
+Keepum, a forced smile playing over his countenance.
+
+Unresolved whether to give vent to her passion, or make an effort to
+inspire his better nature, she stands a few moments, as if immersed in
+deep thought, then suddenly falls upon her knees at his feet, and
+implores him to save her this last step to her ruin. "Hear me, oh, hear
+me, and let your heart give out its pity for one who has only her virtue
+left her in this world;" she appeals to him with earnest voice, and eyes
+swimming in tears. "Save my father, for you have power. Give him his
+liberty, that I, his child, his only comfort in his old age, may make
+him happy. Yes! yes!--he will die where he is. Will you, can you--you
+have a heart--see me struggle against the rude buffets of an unthinking
+world! Will you not save me from the Poor-house--from the shame that
+awaits me with greedy clutches, and receive in return the blessing of a
+friendless woman! Oh!--you will, you will--release my father!--give him
+back to me and make me happy. Ah, ha!--I see, I see, you have feelings,
+better feelings--feelings that are not seared. You will have pity on me;
+you will forgive, relent--you cannot see a wretch suffer and not be
+moved to lighten her pain!" The calm, pensive expression that lights up
+her countenance is indeed enough to inspire the tender impulses of a
+heart in which every sense of generosity is not dried up.
+
+Her appeal, nevertheless, falls ineffectual. Mr. Keepum has no generous
+impulses to bestow upon beings so sensitive of their virtue. With him,
+it is a ware of very little value, inasmuch as the moral standard fixed
+by a better class of people is quite loose. He rises from his chair with
+an air of self-confidence, seizes her by the hand, and attempts to drag
+her upon his knee, saying, "you know I can and will make you a lady.
+Upon the honor of a gentleman, I love you--always have loved you; but
+what stands in the way, and is just enough to make any gentleman of my
+standing mad, is this here squeamishness--"
+
+"No! no! go from me. Attempt not again to lay your cruel hands upon me!"
+The goaded woman struggles from his grasp, and shrieks for help at the
+very top of her voice. And as the neighbors come rushing up stairs, Mr.
+Keepum valorously betakes himself into the street. Maddened with
+disappointment, and swearing to have revenge, he seeks his home, and
+there muses over the "curious woman's" unswerving resolution. "Cruelty!"
+he says to himself--"she charges me with cruelty! Well," (here he sighs)
+"it's only because she lacks a bringing up that can appreciate a
+gentleman." (Keepum could never condescend to believe himself less than
+a very fine gentleman.) "As sure as the world the creature is somewhat
+out in the head. She fancies all sorts of things--shame, disgrace, and
+ruin!--only because she don't understand the quality of our
+morality--that's all! There's no harm, after all, in these little
+enjoyments--if the girl would only understand them so. Our society is
+free from pedantry; and there--no damage can result where no one's the
+wiser. It's like stealing a blush from the cheek of beauty--nobody
+misses it, and the cheek continues as beautiful as ever." Thus
+philosophizes the chivalric gentleman, until he falls into a fast
+sleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+IN WHICH JUSTICE IS SEEN TO BE VERY ACCOMMODATING.
+
+
+A few days have elapsed, Maria has just paid a visit to her father,
+still in prison, and may be seen looking in at Mr. Keepum's office, in
+Broad street. "I come not to ask a favor, sir; but, at my father's
+request, to say to you that, having given up all he has in the world, it
+can do no good to any one to continue him in durance, and to ask of
+you--in whom the sole power rests--that you will grant him his release
+ere he dies?" She addresses Mr. Keepum, who seems not in a very good
+temper this morning, inasmuch as several of his best negroes, without
+regard to their value to him, got a passion for freedom into their
+heads, and have taken themselves away. In addition to this, he is much
+put out, as he says, at being compelled to forego the pleasure held out
+on the previous night, of tarring and feathering two northerners
+suspected of entertaining sentiments not exactly straight on the
+"peculiar question." A glorious time was expected, and a great deal of
+very strong patriotism wasted; but the two unfortunate individuals, by
+some means not yet discovered, got the vigilance committee, to whose
+care they were entrusted, very much intoxicated, and were not to be
+found when called for. Free knives, and not free speech, is our motto.
+And this Mr. Keepum is one of the most zealous in carrying out.
+
+Mr. Keepum sits, his hair fretted back over his lean forehead, before a
+table covered with papers, all indicating an immense business in lottery
+and other speculations. Now he deposits his feet upon it; leans back in
+his chair, puffs his cigar, and says, with an air of indifference to the
+speaker: "I shall not be able to attend to any business of yours to-day,
+Madam!" His clerk, a man of sturdy figure, with a broad, red face, and
+dressed in rather dilapidated broadcloth, is passing in and out of the
+front office, bearing in his fingers documents that require a signature
+or mark of approval.
+
+"I only come, sir, to tell you that we are destitute--" Maria pauses,
+and stands trembling in the doorway.
+
+"That's a very common cry," interrupts Keepum, relieving his mouth of
+the cigar. "The affair is entirely out of my hands. Go to my attorney,
+Peter Crimpton, Esq.,--what he does for you will receive my sanction. I
+must not be interrupted to-day. I might express a thousand regrets; yes,
+pass an opinion on your foolish pride, but what good would it do."
+
+And while Maria stands silent and hesitating, there enters the office
+abruptly a man in the garb of a mechanic. "I have come," speaks the man,
+in a tone of no very good humor, "for the last time. I asks of you--you
+professes to be a gentleman--my honest rights. If the law don't give it
+to me, I mean to take it with this erehand." (He shakes his hand at
+Keepum.) "I am a poor man who ain't thought much of because I works for
+a living; you have got what I had worked hard for, and lain up to make
+my little family comfortable. I ask a settlement and my own--what is
+due from one honest man to another!" He now approaches the table,
+strikes his hand upon it, and pauses for a reply.
+
+Mr. Keepum coolly looks up, and with an insidious leer, says, "There,
+take yourself into the street. When next you enter a gentleman's office,
+learn to deport yourself with good manners."
+
+"Pshaw! pshaw!" interrupts the man. "What mockery! When men like
+you--yes, I say men like you--that has brought ruin on so many poor
+families, can claim to be gentlemen, rogues may get a patent for their
+order." The man turns to take his departure, when the infuriated Keepum,
+who, as we have before described, gets exceedingly put out if any one
+doubts his honor, seizes an iron bar, and stealing up behind, fetches
+him a blow over the head that fells him lifeless to the floor.
+
+Maria shrieks, and vaults into the street. The mass upon the floor
+fetches a last agonizing shrug, and a low moan, and is dead. The
+murderer stands over him, exultant, as the blood streams from the deep
+fracture. In fine, the blood of his victim would seem rather to increase
+his satisfaction at the deed, than excite a regret.
+
+Call you this murder? Truly, the man has outraged God's law. And the
+lover of law and order, of social good, and moral honesty, would find
+reasons for designating the perpetrator an assassin. For has he not
+first distressed a family, and then left it bereft of its protector? You
+may think of it and designate it as you please. Nevertheless we, in our
+fancied mightiness, cannot condescend to such vulgar considerations. We
+esteem it extremely courageous of Mr. Keepum, to defend himself "to the
+death" against the insults of one of the common herd. Our first
+families applaud the act, our sensitive press say it was "an unfortunate
+affair," and by way of admonition, add that it were better working
+people be more careful how they approach gentlemen. Mr. Snivel will call
+this, the sublime quality of our chivalry. What say the jury of inquest?
+
+Duly weighing the high position of Mr. Keepum, and the very low
+condition of the deceased, the good-natured jury return a verdict that
+the man met his death in consequence of an accidental blow, administered
+with an iron instrument, in the hands of one Keepum. From the
+testimony--Keepum's clerk--it is believed the act was committed in
+self-defence.
+
+Mr. Keepum, as is customary with our fine gentlemen, and like a hero (we
+will not content ourselves with making him one jot less), magnanimously
+surrenders himself to the authorities. The majesty of our laws is not
+easily offended by gentlemen of standing. Only the poor and the helpless
+slave can call forth the terrible majesty of the law, and quicken to
+action its sensitive quality. The city is shocked that Mr. Keepum is
+subjected to a night in jail, notwithstanding he has the jailer's best
+parlor, and a barricade of champaign bottles are strewn at his feet by
+flattering friends, who make night jubilant with their carousal.
+
+Southern society asks no repentance of him whose hands reek with the
+blood of his poor victim; southern society has no pittance for that
+family Keepum has made lick the dust in tears and sorrow. Even while we
+write--while the corpse of the murdered man, followed by a few brother
+craftsmen, is being borne to its last resting-place, the perpetrator,
+released on a paltry bail, is being regaled at a festive board. Such is
+our civilization! How had the case stood with a poor man! Could he have
+stood up against the chivalry of South Carolina, scoffed at the law, or
+bid good-natured justice close her eyes? No. He had been dragged to a
+close cell, and long months had passed ere the tardy movements of the
+law reached his case. Even then, popular opinion would have turned upon
+him, pre-judged him, and held him up as dangerous to the peace of the
+people. Yes, pliant justice would have affected great virtue, and
+getting on her high throne, never ceased her demands until he had
+expiated his crime at the gallows.
+
+A few weeks pass: Keepum's reputation for courage is fully endorsed, the
+Attorney-General finds nothing in the act to justify him in bringing it
+before a Grand Jury, the law is satisfied (or ought to be satisfied),
+and the rich murderer sleeps without a pang of remorse.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+IN WHICH SOME LIGHT IS THROWN ON THE PLOT OF THIS HISTORY.
+
+
+June, July, and August are past away, and September, with all its
+autumnal beauties, ushers in, without bringing anything to lighten the
+cares of that girl whose father yet pines in prison. She looks forward,
+hoping against hope, to the return of her lover (something tells her he
+still lives), only to feel more keenly the pangs of hope deferred.
+
+And now, once more, New York, we are in thy busy streets. It is a
+pleasant evening in early September. The soft rays of an autumn sun are
+tinging the western sky, and night is fast drawing her sable mantle over
+the scene. In Washington Square, near where the tiny fountain jets its
+stream into a round, grassy-bordered basin, there sits a man of middle
+stature, apparently in deep study. His dress is plain, and might be
+taken for that of either a working man, or a somewhat faded inspector of
+customs. Heedless of those passing to and fro, he sits until night
+fairly sets in, then rises, and faces towards the East. Through the
+trunks of trees he sees, and seems contemplating the gray walls of the
+University, and the bold, sombre front of the very aristocratic church
+of the Reformed Dutch.
+
+"Well!" he mutters to himself, resuming his seat, and again facing to
+the west, "this ere business of ourn is a great book of life--'tis that!
+Finds us in queer places; now and then mixed up curiously." He rises a
+second time, advances to a gas-light, draws a letter from his pocket,
+and scans, with an air of evident satisfaction, over the contents.
+"Umph!" he resumes, and shrugs his shoulders, "I was right on the
+address--ought to have known it without looking." Having resumed his
+seat, he returns the letter to his pocket, sits with his elbow upon his
+knee, and his head rested thoughtfully in his right hand. The picture
+before him, so calm and soft, has no attractions for him. The dusky hues
+of night, for slowly the scene darkens, seem lending a softness and
+calmness to the foliage. The weeping branches of the willow,
+interspersed here and there, as if to invest the picture with a touching
+melancholy, sway gently to and fro; the leaves of the silvery poplar
+tremble and reflect their shadows on the fresh waters; and the flitting
+gas-lights mingle their gleams, play and sport over the rippled surface,
+coquet with the tripping star-beams, then throw fantastic lights over
+the swaying foliage; and from beneath the massive branches of trees,
+there shines out, in bold relief, the marble porticoes and lintels of
+stately-looking mansions. Such is the calm grandeur of the scene, that
+one could imagine some Thalia investing it with a poetic charm the gods
+might muse over.
+
+"It is not quite time yet," says the man, starting suddenly to his feet.
+He again approaches a gas-light, looks attentively at his watch, then
+saunters to the corner of Fourth and Thompson streets. An old,
+dilapidated wooden building, which some friend has whitewashed into
+respectability, and looking as if it had a strong inclination to tumble
+either upon the sidewalk, or against the great trunk of a hoary-headed
+tree at the corner, arrests his attention. "Well," he says, having
+paused before it, and scanned its crooked front, "this surely is the
+house where the woman lived when she was given the child. Practice, and
+putting two things together to find what one means, is the great thing
+in our profession. Like its old tenant, the house has got down a deal.
+It's on its last legs." Again he consults his watch, and with a
+quickened step recrosses the Square, and enters ---- Avenue. Now he
+halts before a spacious mansion, the front of which is high and bold,
+and deep, and of brown freestone. The fluted columns; the
+elegantly-chiselled lintels; the broad, scrolled window-frames; the
+exactly-moulded arches; the massive steps leading to the deep, vaulted
+entrance, with its doors of sombre and highly-polished walnut; and its
+bold style of architecture, so grand in its outlines,--all invest it
+with a regal air. The man casts a glance along the broad avenue, then
+into the sombre entrance of the mansion. Now he seems questioning within
+himself whether to enter or retrace his steps. One-half of the outer
+door, which is in the Italian style, with heavy fluted mouldings, stands
+ajar; while from out the lace curtains of the inner, there steals a
+faint light. The man rests his elbow on the great stone scroll of the
+guard-rail, and here we leave him for a few moments.
+
+The mansion, it may be well to add here, remains closed the greater part
+of the year; and when opened seems visited by few persons, and those not
+of the very highest standing in society. A broken-down politician, a
+seedy hanger-on of some "literary club," presided over by a rich, but
+very stupid tailor, and now and then a lady about whose skirts something
+not exactly straight hangs, and who has been elbowed out of fashionable
+society for her too ardent love of opera-singers, and handsome actors,
+may be seen dodging in now and then. Otherwise, the mansion would seem
+very generally deserted by the neighborhood.
+
+Everybody will tell you, and everybody is an individual so extremely
+busy in other people's affairs, that he ought to know, that there is
+something that hangs so like a rain-cloud about the magnificent skirts
+of those who live so secluded "in that fine old pile," (mansion,) that
+the virtuous satin of the Avenue never can be got to "mix in." Indeed,
+the Avenue generally seems to have set its face against those who reside
+in it. They enjoy none of those very grand assemblies, balls, and
+receptions, for which the Avenue is become celebrated, and yet they
+luxuriate in wealth and splendor.
+
+Though the head of the house seems banished by society, society makes
+her the subject of many evil reports and mysterious whisperings. The
+lady of the mansion, however, as if to retort upon her traducers, makes
+it known that she is very popular abroad, every now and then during her
+absence honoring them with mysterious clippings from foreign
+journals--all setting forth the admiration her appearance called forth
+at a grand reception given by the Earl and Countess of ----.
+
+Society is made of inexorable metal, she thinks, for the prejudices of
+the neighborhood have not relaxed one iota with time. That she has been
+presented to kings, queens, and emperors; that she has enjoyed the
+hospitalities of foreign embassies; that she has (and she makes no
+little ado that she has) shone in the assemblies of prime ministers;
+that she has been invited to court concerts, and been the flattered of
+no end of fashionable _coteries_, serves her nothing at home. They are
+events, it must be admitted, much discussed, much wondered at, much
+regretted by those who wind themselves up in a robe of stern morality.
+In a few instances they are lamented, lest the morals and manners of
+those who make it a point to represent us abroad should reflect only the
+brown side of our society.
+
+As if with regained confidence, the man, whom we left at the door
+scroll, is seen slowly ascending the broad steps. He enters the vaulted
+vestibule, and having touched the great, silver bell-knob of the inner
+door, stands listening to the tinkling chimes within. A pause of several
+minutes, and the door swings cautiously open. There stands before him
+the broad figure of a fussy servant man, wedged into a livery quite like
+that worn by the servants of an English tallow-chandler, but which, it
+must be said, and said to be regretted, is much in fashion with our
+aristocracy, who, in consequence of its brightness, believe it the exact
+style of some celebrated lord. The servant receives a card from the
+visitor, and with a bow, inquires if he will wait an answer.
+
+"I will wait the lady's pleasure--I came by appointment," returns the
+man. And as the servant disappears up the hall, he takes a seat,
+uninvited, upon a large settee, in carved walnut. "Something mysterious
+about this whole affair!" he muses, scanning along the spacious hall,
+into the conservatory of statuary and rare plants, seen opening away at
+the extreme end. The high, vaulted roof; the bright, tesselated floor;
+the taste with which the frescoes decorating the walls are designed;
+the great winding stairs, so richly carpeted--all enhanced in beauty by
+the soft light reflected upon them from a massive chandelier of stained
+glass, inspire him with a feeling of awe. The stillness, and the air of
+grandeur pervading each object that meets his eye, reminds him of the
+halls of those mediæval castles he has read of in his youth. The servant
+returns, and makes his bow. "My leady," he says, in a strong
+Lincolnshire brogue, "'as weated ye an 'our or more."
+
+The visitor, evincing some nervousness, rises quickly to his feet,
+follows the servant up the hall, and is ushered into a parlor of regal
+dimensions, on the right. His eye falls upon one solitary occupant, who
+rises from a lounge of oriental richness, and advances towards him with
+an air of familiarity their conditions seem not to warrant. Having
+greeted the visitor, and bid him be seated (he takes his seat, shyly,
+beside the door), the lady resumes her seat in a magnificent chair. For
+a moment the visitor scans over the great parlor, as if moved by the
+taste and elegance of everything that meets his eye. The hand of art has
+indeed been lavishly laid on the decorations of this chamber, which
+presents a scene of luxury princes might revel in. And though the soft
+wind of whispering silks seemed lending its aid to make complete the
+enjoyment of the occupant, it might be said, in the words of Crabbe:
+
+   "But oh, what storm was in that mind!"
+
+The person of the lady is in harmony with the splendor of the apartment.
+Rather tall and graceful of figure, her complexion pale, yet soft and
+delicate, her features as fine and regular as ever sculptor chiselled,
+her manner gentle and womanly. In her face, nevertheless, there is an
+expression of thoughtfulness, perhaps melancholy, to which her large,
+earnest black eyes, and finely-arched brows, fringed with dark lashes,
+lend a peculiar charm. While over all there plays a shadow of languor,
+increased perhaps by the tinge of age, or a mind and heart overtaxed
+with cares.
+
+"I received your note, which I hastened to answer. Of course you
+received my answer. I rejoice that you have persevered, and succeeded in
+finding the object I have so long sought. Not hearing from you for so
+many weeks, I had begun to fear she had gone forever," says the lady, in
+a soft, musical voice, raising her white, delicate hand to her cheek,
+which is suffused with blushes.
+
+"I had myself almost given her over, for she disappeared from the
+Points, and no clue could be got of her," returns the man, pausing for a
+moment, then resuming his story. "A week ago yesterday she turned up
+again, and I got wind that she was in a place we call 'Black-beetle
+Hole'--"
+
+"Black-beetle Hole!" ejaculates the lady, whom the reader will have
+discovered is no less a person than Madame Montford. Mr. Detective
+Fitzgerald is the visitor.
+
+"Yes, there's where she's got, and it isn't much of a place, to say the
+best. But when a poor creature has no other place to get a stretch down,
+she stretches down there--"
+
+"Proceed to how you found her, and what you have got from her concerning
+the child," the lady interrupts, with a deep sigh.
+
+"Well," proceeds the detective, "I meets--havin' an eye out all the
+while--Sergeant Dobbs one morning--Dobbs knows every roost in the Points
+better than me!--and says he, 'Fitzgerald, that are woman, that crazy
+woman, you've been in tow of so long, has turned up. There was a row in
+Black-beetle Hole last night. I got a force and descended into the
+place, found it crammed with them half-dead kind of women and men, and
+three thieves, what wanted to have a fuss with the hag that keeps it.
+One on 'em was thrashing the poor crazy woman. They had torn all the
+rags off her back. Hows-ever, if you wants to fish her out, you'd better
+be spry about it--'"
+
+The lady interrupts by saying she will disguise, and with his
+assistance, go bring her from the place--save her! Mr. Fitzgerald begs
+she will take the matter practically. She could not breathe the air of
+the place, he says.
+
+"'Thank you Dobbs,' says I," he resumes, "and when it got a bit dark I
+went incog. to Black-beetle's Hole--"
+
+"And where is this curious place?" she questions, with an air of
+anxiety.
+
+"As to that, Madame--well, you wouldn't know it was lived in, because
+its underground, and one not up to the entrance never would think it led
+to a place where human beings crawled in at night. I don't wonder so
+many of 'em does things what get 'em into the Station, and after that
+treated to a short luxury on the Island. As I was goin' on to say, I got
+myself fortified, started out into the Points, and walked--we take these
+things practically--down and up the east sidewalk, then stopped in front
+of the old rotten house that Black-beetle Hole is under. Then I looks
+down the wet little stone steps, that ain't wide enough for a big man
+to get down, and what lead into the cellar. Some call it Black-beetle
+Hole, and then again some call it the Hole of the Black-beetles. 'Yer
+after no good, Mr. Fitzgerald,' says Mrs. McQuade, whose husband keeps
+the junk-shop over the Hole, putting her malicious face out of the
+window.
+
+"'You're the woman I want, Mrs. McQuade,' says I. 'Don't be puttin' your
+foot in the house,' says she. And when I got her temper a little down by
+telling her I only wanted to know who lived in the Hole, she swore by
+all the saints it had niver a soul in it, and was hard closed up. Being
+well up to the dodges of the Points folks, I descended the steps, and
+gettin' underground, knocked at the Hole door, and then sent it smash
+in. 'Well! who's here?' says I. 'It's me,' says Mrs. Lynch, a knot of an
+old woman, who has kept the Hole for many years, and says she has no
+fear of the devil."
+
+Madame Montford listens with increasing anxiety; Mr. Detective
+Fitzgerald proceeds: "'Get a light here, then;' says I. You couldn't see
+nothing, it was so dark, but you could hear 'em move, and breathe. And
+then the place was so hot and sickly. Had to stand it best way I could.
+There was no standing straight in the dismal place, which was wet and
+nasty under foot, and not more nor twelve by fourteen. The old woman
+said she had only a dozen lodgers in; when she made out to get a light
+for me I found she had twenty-three, tucked away here and there, under
+straw and stuff. Well, it was curious to see 'em (here the detective
+wipes his forehead with his handkerchief) rise up, one after another,
+all round you, you know, like fiends that had been buried for a time,
+then come to life merely to get something to eat."
+
+"And did you find the woman--and was she one of them?"
+
+"That's what I'm comin' at. Well, I caught a sight at the woman; knew
+her at the glance. I got a sight at her one night in the Pit at the
+House of the Nine Nations. 'Here! I wants you,' says I, takin' what
+there was left of her by the arm. She shrieked, and crouched down, and
+begged me not to hurt her, and looked wilder than a tiger at me. And
+then the whole den got into a fright, and young women, and boys, and
+men--they were all huddled together--set up such a screaming. 'Munday!'
+says I, 'you don't go to the Tombs--here! I've got good news for you.'
+This quieted her some, and then I picked her up--she was nearly
+naked--and seeing she wanted scrubbing up, carried her out of the Hole,
+and made her follow me to my house, where we got her into some clothes,
+and seeing that she was got right in her mind, I thought it would be a
+good time to question her."
+
+"If you will hasten the result of your search, it will, my good sir,
+relieve my feelings much!" again interposes the lady, drawing her chair
+nearer the detective.
+
+"'You've had.' I says to her, 'a hard enough time in this world, and now
+here's the man what's going to be a friend to ye--understand that!' says
+I, and she looked at me bewildered. We gave her something to eat, and a
+pledge that no one would harm her, and she tamed down, and began to look
+up a bit. 'Your name wasn't always Munday?' says I, in a way that she
+couldn't tell what I was after. She said she had taken several names,
+but Munday was her right name. Then she corrected herself--she was weak
+and hoarse--and said it was her husband's name. 'You've a good memory,
+Mrs. Munday,' says I; 'now, just think as far back as you can, and tell
+us where you lived as long back as you can think.' She shook her head,
+and began to bury her face in her hands I tried for several minutes, but
+could get nothing more out of her. Then she quickened up, shrieked out
+that she had just got out of the devil's regions, and made a rush for
+the door."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+IN WHICH IS REVEALED THE ONE ERROR THAT BROUGHT SO MUCH SUFFERING UPON
+MANY.
+
+
+Mr. Fitzgerald sees that his last remark is having no very good effect
+on Madame Montford, and hastens to qualify, ere it overcome her. "That,
+I may say, Madame, was not the last of her. My wife and me, seeing how
+her mind was going wrong again, got her in bed for the night, and took
+what care of her we could. Well, you see, she got rational in the
+morning, and, thinking it a chance, I 'plied a heap of kindness to her,
+and got her to tell all she knew of herself. She went on to tell where
+she lived--I followed your directions in questioning her--at the time
+you noted down. She described the house exactly. I have been to it
+to-night; knew it at a sight, from her description. Some few practical
+questions I put to her about the child you wanted to get at, I found
+frightened her so that she kept shut--for fear, I take it, that it was a
+crime she may be punished for at some time. I says, 'You was trusted
+with a child once, wasn't you?' 'The Lord forgive me,' she says, 'I know
+I'm guilty--but I've been punished enough in this world haven't I?' And
+she burst out into tears, and hung down her head, and got into the
+corner, as if wantin' nobody to see her. She only wanted a little good
+care, and a little kindness, to bring her to. This we did as well as we
+could, and made her understand that no one thought of punishing her, but
+wanted to be her friends. Well, the poor wretch began to pick up, as I
+said before, and in three days was such another woman that nobody could
+have told that she was the poor crazy thing that ran about the lanes and
+alleys of the Points. And now, Madame, doing as you bid me, I thought it
+more practical to come to you, knowing you could get of her all you
+wanted. She is made comfortable. Perhaps you wouldn't like to have her
+brought here--I may say I don't think it would be good policy. If you
+would condescend to come to our house, you can see her alone. I hope you
+are satisfied with my services." The detective pauses, and again wipes
+his face.
+
+"My gratitude for your perseverance I can never fully express to you. I
+owe you a debt I never can repay. To-morrow, at ten o'clock, I will meet
+you at your house; and then, if you can leave me alone with her--"
+
+"Certainly, certainly, everything will be at your service, Madame,"
+returns the detective, rising from his seat and thanking the lady, who
+rewards him bountifully from her purse, and bids him good night. The
+servant escorts him to the door, while Madame Montford buries her face
+in her hands, and gives vent to her emotions.
+
+On the morning following, a neatly-caparisoned carriage is seen driving
+to the door of a little brick house in Crosby street. From it Madame
+Montford alights, and passes in at the front door, while in another
+minute it rolls away up the street and is lost to sight. A few moments'
+consultation, and the detective, who has ushered the lady into his
+humbly-furnished little parlor, withdraws to give place to the pale and
+emaciated figure of the woman Munday, who advances with faltering step
+and downcast countenance. "Oh! forgive me, forgive me! have mercy upon
+me! forgive me this crime!" she shrieks. Suddenly she raises her eyes,
+and rushing forward throws herself at Madame Montford's feet, in an
+imploring attitude. Dark and varied fancies crowd confusedly on Madame
+Montford's mind at this moment.
+
+"Nay, nay, my poor sufferer, rather I might ask forgiveness of you." She
+takes the woman by the hand, and, with an air of regained calmness,
+raises her from the floor. With her, the outer life seems preparing the
+inner for what is to come. "But I have long sought you--sought you in
+obedience to the demands of my conscience, which I would the world gave
+me power to purify; and now I have found you, and with you some rest for
+my aching heart. Come, sit down; forget what you have suffered; tell me
+what befell you, and what has become of the child; tell me all, and
+remember that I will provide for you a comfortable home for the rest of
+your life." Madame motions her to a chair, struggling the while to
+suppress her own feelings.
+
+"I loved the child you intrusted to my care; yes, God knows I loved it,
+and watched over it for two years, as carefully as a mother. But I was
+poor, and the brother, in whose hands you intrusted the amount for its
+support (this, the reader must here know, was not a brother, but the
+paramour of Madame Montford), failed, and gave me nothing after the
+first six months. I never saw him, and when I found you had gone
+abroad--" The woman hesitates, and, with weeping eyes and trembling
+voice, again implores forgiveness. "My husband gave himself up to
+drink, lost his situation, and then he got to hating the child, and
+abusing me for taking it, and embarrassing our scanty means of living.
+Night and day, I was harassed and abused, despised and neglected. I was
+discouraged, and gave up in despair. I clung to the child as long as I
+could. I struggled, and struggled, and struggled--" Here the woman
+pauses, and with a submissive look, again hangs down her head and sobs.
+
+"Be calm, be calm," says Madame Montford, drawing nearer to her, and
+making an effort to inspirit her. "Throw off all your fears, forget what
+you have suffered, for I, too, have suffered. And you parted with the
+child?"
+
+"Necessity forced me," pursues the woman, shaking her head. "I saw only
+the street before me on one side, and felt only the cold pinchings of
+poverty on the other. You had gone abroad--"
+
+"It was my intention to have adopted the child as my own when I
+returned," interrupts Madame Montford, still clinging to that flattering
+hope in which the criminal sees a chance of escape.
+
+"And I," resumes the woman, "left the husband who neglected me, and who
+treated me cruelly, and gave myself,--perhaps I was to blame for it,--up
+to one who befriended me. He was the only one who seemed to care for me,
+or to have any sympathy for me. But he, like myself, was poor; and,
+being compelled to flee from our home, and to live in obscurity, where
+my husband could not find me out, the child was an incumbrance I had no
+means of supporting. I parted with her--yes, yes, I parted with her to
+Mother Bridges, who kept a stand at a corner in West street--"
+
+"And then what became of her?" again interposes Madame Montford. The
+woman assumes a sullenness, and it is some time before she can be got to
+proceed.
+
+"My conscience rebuked me," she resumes, as if indifferent about
+answering the question, "for I loved the child as my own; and the friend
+I lived with, and who followed the sea, printed on its right arm two
+hearts and a broken anchor, which remain there now. My husband died of
+the cholera, and the friend I had taken to, and who treated me kindly,
+also died, and I soon found myself an abandoned woman, an outcast--yes,
+ruined forever, and in the streets, leading a life that my own feelings
+revolted at, but from which starvation only seemed the alternative. My
+conscience rebuked me again and again, and something--I cannot tell what
+it was--impelled me with an irresistible force to watch over the
+fortunes of the child I knew must come to the same degraded life
+necessity--perhaps it was my own false step--had forced upon me. I
+watched her a child running neglected about the streets, then I saw her
+sold to Hag Zogbaum, who lived in Pell street; I never lost sight of
+her--no, I never lost sight of her, but fear of criminating myself kept
+me from making myself known to her. When I had got old in vice, and
+years had gone past, and she was on the first step to the vice she had
+been educated to, we shared the same roof. Then she was known as Anna
+Bonard--"
+
+"Anna Bonard!" exclaims Madame Montford. "Then truly it is she who now
+lives in Charleston! There is no longer a doubt. I may seek and claim
+her, and return her to at least a life of comfort."
+
+"There you will find her. Ah, many times have I looked upon her, and
+thought if I could only save her, how happy I could die. I shared the
+same roof with her in Charleston, and when I got sick she was kind to
+me, and watched over me, and was full of gentleness, and wept over her
+condition. She has sighed many a time, and said how she wished she knew
+how she came into the world, to be forced to live despised by the world.
+But I got down, down, down, from one step to another, one step to
+another, as I had gone up from one step to another in the splendor of
+vice, until I found myself, tortured in mind and body, a poor neglected
+wretch in the Charleston Poor-house. In it I was treated worse than a
+slave, left, sick and heart-broken, and uncared-for, to the preying of a
+fever that destroyed my mind. And as if that were not enough, I was
+carried into the dungeons--the 'mad cells,'--and chained. And this
+struck such a feeling of terror into my soul that my reason, as they
+said, was gone forever. But I got word to Anna, and she came to me, and
+gave me clothes and many little things to comfort me, and got me out,
+and gave me money to get back to New York, where I have been ever since,
+haunted from place to place, with scarce a place to lay my head. Surely
+I have suffered. Shall I be forgiven?" Her voice here falters, she
+becomes weak, and seems sinking under the burden of her emotions.
+"If,--if--if," she mutters, incoherently, "you can save me, and forgive
+me, you will have the prayers of one who has drank deep of the bitter
+cup." She looks up with a sad, melancholy countenance, again implores
+forgiveness, and bursts into loud sobs.
+
+"Mine is the guilty part--it is me who needs forgiveness!" speaks Madame
+Montford, pressing the hand of the forlorn woman, as the tears stream
+down her cheeks. She has unburdened her emotions, but such is the
+irresistible power of a guilty conscience that she finds her crushed
+heart and smitten frame sinking under the shock--that she feels the very
+fever of remorse mounting to her brain.
+
+"Be calm, be calm--for you have suffered, wandered through the dark
+abyss--truly you have been chastened enough in this world. But while
+your heart is only bruised and sore, mine is stung deep and lacerated.
+The image of that child now rises up before me. I see her looking back
+over her chequered life, and pining to know her birthright. Mine is the
+task of seeking her out, reconciling her, saving her from this life of
+shame. I must sacrifice the secrets of my own heart, go boldly in
+pursuit of her--" She pauses a moment. There is yet a thin veil between
+her and society. Society only founds its suspicions upon the mystery
+involved in the separation from her husband, and the doubtful character
+of her long residence in Europe. Society knows nothing of the birth of
+the child. The scandal leveled at her in Charleston, was only the result
+of her own indiscretion. "Yes," she whispers, attempting at the same
+time to soothe the feelings of the poor disconsolate woman, "I must go,
+and go quickly--I must drag her from the terrible life she is
+leading;--but, ah! I must do it so as to shield myself. Yes, I must
+shield myself!" And she puts into the woman's hand several pieces of
+gold, saying: "take this!--to-morrow you will be better provided for. Be
+silent. Speak to no one of what has passed between us, nor make the
+acquaintance of any one outside the home I shall provide for you." Thus
+saying, she recalls Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, rewards him with a nostrum
+from her purse, and charges him to make the woman comfortable at her
+expense.
+
+"Her mind, now I do believe," says the detective, with an approving
+toss of the head, "her faculties'll come right again,--they only wants a
+little care and kindness, mum." The detective thanks her again and
+again, then puts the money methodically into his pocket.
+
+The carriage having returned, Madame Montford vaults into it as quickly
+as she alighted, and is rolled away to her mansion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+IN WHICH IS RECORDED EVENTS THE READER MAY NOT HAVE EXPECTED.
+
+
+While the events we have recorded in the foregoing chapter, confused,
+hurried, and curious, are being enacted in New York, let us once more
+turn to Charleston.
+
+You must know that, notwithstanding our high state of civilization, we
+yet maintain in practice two of the most loathsome relics of
+barbarism--we lash helpless women, and we scourge, at the public
+whipping-post, the bare backs of men.
+
+George Mullholland has twice been dragged to the whipping-post, twice
+stripped before a crowd in the market-place, twice lashed, maddened to
+desperation, and twice degraded in the eyes of the very negroes we teach
+to yield entire submission to the white man, however humble his grade.
+Hate, scorn, remorse--every dark passion his nature can summon--rises up
+in one torturing tempest, and fills his bosom with a mad longing for
+revenge. "Death!" he says, while looking out from his cell upon the
+bright landscape without, "what is death to me? The burnings of an
+outraged soul subdue the thought of death."
+
+The woman through whom this dread finale was brought upon him, and who
+now repines, unable to shake off the smarts old associations crowd upon
+her heart, has a second and third time crept noiselessly to his cell,
+and sought in vain his forgiveness. Yea, she has opened the door gently,
+but drew back in terror before his dark frown, his sardonic scorn, his
+frenzied rush at her. Had he not loved her fondly, his hate had not
+taken such deep root in his bosom.
+
+Two or three days pass, he has armed himself "to the death," and is
+resolved to make his escape, and seek revenge of his enemies. It is
+evening. Dark festoons of clouds hang over the city, lambent lightning
+plays along the heavens in the south. Now it flashes across the city,
+the dull panorama lights up, the tall, gaunt steeples gleam out, and the
+surface of the Bay flashes out in a phosphoric blaze. Patiently and
+diligently has he filed, and filed, and filed, until he has removed the
+bar that will give egress to his body. The window of his cell overlooks
+the ditch, beyond which is the prison wall. Noiselessly he arranges the
+rope, for he is in the third story, then paces his cell, silent and
+thoughtful. "Must it be?" he questions within himself, "must I stain
+these hands with the blood of the woman I love? Revenge, revenge--I will
+have revenge. I will destroy both of them, for to-morrow I am to be
+dragged a third time to the whipping-post." Now he casts a glance round
+the dark cell, now he pauses at the window, now the lightning courses
+along the high wall, then reflects back the deep ditch. Another moment,
+and he has commenced his descent. Down, down, down, he lowers himself.
+Now he holds on tenaciously, the lightning reflects his dangling figure,
+a prisoner in a lower cell gives the alarm, he hears the watchword of
+his discovery pass from cell to cell, the clashing of the keeper's door
+grates upon his ear like thunder--he has reached the end of his rope,
+and yet hangs suspended in the air. A heavy fall is heard, he has
+reached the ditch, bounds up its side to the wall, seizes a pole, and
+places against it, and, with one vault, is over into the open street.
+Not a moment is to be lost. Uproar and confusion reigns throughout the
+prison, his keepers have taken the alarm, and will soon be on his track,
+pursuing him with ferocious hounds. Burning for revenge, and yet
+bewildered, he sets off at full speed, through back lanes, over fields,
+passing in his course the astonished guardmen. He looks neither to the
+right nor the left, but speeds on toward the grove. Now he reaches the
+bridge that crosses the millpond, pauses for breath, then proceeds on.
+Suddenly a light from the villa Anna occupies flashes out. He has
+crossed the bridge, bounds over the little hedge-grown avenue, through
+the garden, and in another minute stands before her, a pistol pointed at
+her breast, and all the terrible passions of an enraged fiend darkening
+his countenance. Her implorings for mercy bring an old servant rushing
+into the room, the report of a pistol rings out upon the still air,
+shriek after shriek follows, mingled with piercing moans, and
+death-struggles. "Ha, ha!" says the avenger, looking on with a sardonic
+smile upon his face, and a curl of hate upon his lip, "I have taken the
+life to which I gave my own--yes, I have taken it--I have taken it!" And
+she writhes her body, and sets her eyes fixedly upon him, as he hastens
+out of the room.
+
+"Quick! quick!" he says to himself. "There, then! I am pursued!" He
+recrosses the millpond over another bridge, and in his confusion turns a
+short angle into a lane leading to the city. The yelping of dogs, the
+deep, dull tramp of hoofs, the echoing of voices, the ominous baying
+and scenting of blood-hounds--all break upon his ear in one terrible
+chaos. Not a moment is to be lost. The sight at the villa will attract
+the attention of his pursuers, and give him time to make a distance! The
+thought of what he has done, and the terrible death that awaits him,
+crowds upon his mind, and rises up before him like a fierce monster of
+retribution. He rushes at full speed down the lane, vaults across a
+field into the main road, only to find his pursuers close upon him. The
+patrol along the streets have caught the alarm, which he finds spreading
+with lightning-speed. The clank of side-arms, the scenting and baying of
+the hounds, coming louder and louder, nearer and nearer, warns him of
+the approaching danger. A gate at the head of a wharf stands open, the
+hounds are fast gaining upon him, a few jumps more and they will have
+him fast in their ferocious grasp. He rushes through the gate, down the
+wharf, the tumultuous cry of his pursuers striking terror into his very
+heart. Another instant and the hounds are at his feet, he stands on the
+capsill at the end, gives one wild, despairing look into the abyss
+beneath--"I die revenged," he shouts, discharges a pistol into his
+breast, and with one wild plunge, is buried forever in the water
+beneath. The dark stream of an unhappy life has run out. Upon whom does
+the responsibility of this terrible closing rest? In the words of
+Thomson, the avenger left behind him only "Gaunt Beggary, and Scorn,
+with many hell-hounds more."
+
+When the gray dawn of morning streamed in through the windows of the
+little villa, and upon the parlor table, that had so often been adorned
+with caskets and fresh-plucked flowers, there, in their stead, lay the
+lifeless form of the unhappy Anna, her features pale as marble, but
+beautiful even in death. There, rolled in a mystic shroud, calm as a
+sleeper in repose, she lay, watched over by two faithful slaves.
+
+The Judge and Mr. Snivel have found it convenient to make a trip of
+pleasure into the country. And though the affair creates some little
+comment in fashionable society, it would be exceedingly unpopular to pry
+too deeply into the private affairs of men high in office. We are not
+encumbered with scrutinizing morality. Being an "unfortunate woman," the
+law cannot condescend to deal with her case. Indeed, were it brought
+before a judge, and the judge to find himself sitting in judgment upon a
+judge, his feelings would find some means of defrauding his judgment,
+while society would carefully close the shutter of its sanctity.
+
+At high noon there comes a man of the name of Moon, commonly called Mr.
+Moon, the good-natured Coroner. In truth, a better-humored man than Mr.
+Moon cannot be found; and what is more, he has the happiest way in the
+world of disposing of such cases, and getting verdicts of his jury
+exactly suited to circumstances. Mr. Moon never proceeds to business
+without regaling his jury with good brandy and high-flavored cigars. In
+this instance he has bustled about and got together six very solemn and
+seriously-disposed gentlemen, who proceed to deliberate. "A mystery
+hangs over the case," says one. A second shakes his head, and views the
+body as if anxious to get away. A third says, reprovingly, that "such
+cases are coming too frequent." Mr. Moon explains the attendant
+circumstances, and puts a changed face on the whole affair. One juryman
+chalks, and another juryman chalks, and Mr. Moon says, by way of
+bringing the matter to a settled point, "It is a bad ending to a
+wretched life." A solemn stillness ensues, and then follows the verdict.
+The body being identified as that of one Anna Bonard, a woman celebrated
+for her beauty, but of notorious reputation, the jury are of opinion
+(having duly weighed the circumstances) that she came to her melancholy
+death by the hands of one George Mullholland, who was prompted to commit
+the act for some cause to the jury unknown. And the jury, in passing the
+case over to the authorities, recommend that the said Mullholland be
+brought to justice. This done, Mr. Moon orders her burial, and the jury
+hasten home, fully confident of having performed their duty unswerved.
+
+When night came, when all was hushed without, and the silence within was
+broken only by the cricket's chirp, when the lone watcher, the faithful
+old slave, sat beside the cold, shrouded figure, when the dim light of
+the chamber of death seemed mingling with the shadows of departed souls,
+there appeared in the room, like a vision, the tall figure of a female,
+wrapped in a dark mantle. Slowly and noiselessly she stole to the side
+of the deceased, stood motionless and statue-like for several minutes,
+her eyes fixed in mute contemplation on the face of the corpse. The
+watcher looked and started back, still the figure remained motionless.
+Raising her right hand to her chin, pensively, she lifted her eyes
+heavenward, and in that silent appeal, in those dewy tears that
+glistened in her great orbs, in those words that seemed freezing to her
+quivering lips, the fierce struggle waging in that bosom was told. She
+heard the words, "You cannot redeem me now!" knelling in her ears, her
+thoughts flashed back over years of remorse, to the day of her error,
+and she saw rising up as it were before her, like a spectre from the
+tomb, seeking retribution, the image of the child she had sacrificed to
+her vanity. She pressed and pressed the cold hand, so delicate, so like
+her own; she unbared the round, snowy arm, and there beheld the
+imprinted hearts, and the broken anchor! Her pent-up grief then burst
+its bounds, the tears rolled down her cheeks, her lips quivered, her
+hand trembled, and her very blood seemed as ice in her veins. She cast a
+hurried glance round the room, a calm and serene smile seemed lighting
+up the features of the lifeless woman, and she bent over her, and kissed
+and kissed her cold, marble-like brow, and bathed it with her burning
+tears. It was a last sad offering; and having bestowed it, she turned
+slowly away, and disappeared. It was Madame Montford, who came a day too
+late to save the storm-tossed girl, but returned to think of the
+hereafter of her own soul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+ANOTHER SHADE OF THE PICTURE.
+
+
+While the earth of Potter's Field is closing over all that remains of
+Anna Bonard, Maria McArthur may be seen, snatching a moment of rest, as
+it were, seated under the shade of a tree on the Battery, musing, as is
+her wont. The ships sail by cheerily, there is a touching beauty about
+the landscape before her, all nature seems glad. Even the heavens smile
+serenely; and a genial warmth breathes through the soft air. "Truly the
+Allwise," she says within herself, "will be my protector, and is
+chastising me while consecrating something to my good. Mr. Keepum has
+made my father's release the condition of my ruin. But he is but flesh
+and blood, and I--no, I am not yet a slave! The virtue of the poor,
+truly, doth hang by tender threads; but I am resolved to die struggling
+to preserve it." And a light, as of some future joy, rises up in her
+fancy, and gives her new strength.
+
+The German family have removed from the house in which she occupies a
+room, and in its place are come two women of doubtful character. Still,
+necessity compels her to remain in it; for though it is a means resorted
+to by Keepum to effect his purpose, she cannot remove without being
+followed, and harassed by him. Strong in the consciousness of her own
+purity, and doubly incensed at the proof of what extremes the designer
+will condescend to, she nerves herself for the struggle she sees before
+her. True, she was under the same roof with them; she was subjected to
+many inconveniencies by their presence; but not all their flattering
+inducements could change her resolution. Nevertheless, the resolution of
+a helpless female does not protect her from the insults of heartless
+men. She returns home to find that Mother Rumor, with her thousand
+tongues, is circulating all kinds of evil reports about her. It is even
+asserted that she has become an abandoned woman, and is the occupant of
+a house of doubtful repute. And this, instead of enlisting the
+sympathies of some kind heart, rather increases the prejudice and
+coldness of those upon whom she has depended for work. It is seldom the
+story of suffering innocence finds listeners. The sufferer is too
+frequently required to qualify in crime, before she becomes an object of
+sympathy.
+
+She returns, one day, some work just finished for one of our high old
+families, the lady of which makes it a boast that she is always engaged
+in "laudable pursuits of a humane kind." The lady sends her servant to
+the door with the pittance due, and begs to say she is sorry to hear of
+the life Miss McArthur is leading, and requests she will not show
+herself at the house again. Mortified in her feelings, Maria begs an
+interview; but the servant soon returns an answer that her Missus cannot
+descend to anything of the kind. Our high old families despise working
+people, and wall themselves up against the poor, whose virtue they
+regard as an exceedingly cheap commodity. Our high old families choose
+rather to charge guilt, and deny the right to prove innocence.
+
+With the four shillings, Maria, weeping, turns from the door, procures
+some bread and coffee, and wends her way to the old prison. But the
+chords of her resolution are shaken, the cold repulse has gone like
+poison to her heart. The ray of joy that was lighting up her future,
+seems passing away; whilst fainter and fainter comes the hope of once
+more greeting her lover. She sees vice pampered by the rich, and poor
+virtue begging at their doors. She sees a price set upon her own ruin;
+she sees men in high places waiting with eager passion the moment when
+the thread of her resolution will give out. The cloud of her night does,
+indeed, seem darkening again.
+
+But she gains the prison, and falters as she enters the cell where the
+old Antiquary, his brow furrowed deep of age, sleeps calmly upon his
+cot. Near his hand, which he has raised over his head, lays a letter,
+with the envelope broken. Maria's quick eye flashes over the
+superscription, and recognizes in it the hand of Tom Swiggs. A transport
+of joy fills her bosom with emotions she has no power to constrain. She
+trembles from head to foot; fancies mingled with joys and fears crowd
+rapidly upon her thoughts. She grasps it with feelings frantic of joy,
+and holds it in her shaking hand; the shock has nigh overcome her. The
+hope in which she has so long found comfort and strength--that has so
+long buoyed her up, and carried her safely through trials, has truly
+been her beacon light. "Truly," she says within herself, "the dawn of my
+morning is brightening now." She opens the envelope, and finds a letter
+enclosed to her. "Oh! yes, yes, yes! it is him--it is from him!" she
+stammers, in the exuberance of her wild joy. And now the words, "You
+are richer than me," flash through her thoughts with revealed
+significance.
+
+Maria grasps the old man's hand. He starts and wakes, as if unconscious
+of his situation, then fixes his eyes upon her with a steady, vacant
+gaze. Then, with childlike fervor, he presses her hand to his lips, and
+kisses it. "It was a pleasant dream--ah! yes, I was dreaming all things
+went so well!" Again a change comes over his countenance, and he glances
+round the room, with a wild and confused look. "Am I yet in
+prison?--well, it was only a dream. If death were like dreaming, I would
+crave it to take me to its peace, that my mind might no longer be
+harassed with the troubles of this life. Ah! there, there!"--(the old
+man starts suddenly, as if a thought has flashed upon him)--"there is
+the letter, and from poor Tom, too! I only broke the envelope. I have
+not opened it."
+
+"It is safe, father; I have it," resumes Maria, holding it before him,
+unopened, as the words tremble upon her lips. One moment she fears it
+may convey bad news, and in the next she is overjoyed with the hope that
+it brings tidings of the safety and return of him for whose welfare she
+breathed many a prayer. Pale and agitated, she hesitates a moment, then
+proceeds to open it.
+
+"Father, father! heaven has shielded me--heaven has shielded me! Ha! ha!
+ha! yes, yes, yes! He is safe! he is safe!" And she breaks out into one
+wild exclamation of joy, presses the letter to her lips, and kisses it,
+and moistens it with her tears, "It was all a plot--a dark plot set for
+my ruin!" she mutters, and sinks back, overcome with her emotions. The
+old man fondles her to his bosom, his white beard flowing over her
+suffused cheeks, and his tears mingling with hers. And here she
+remains, until the anguish of her joy runs out, and her mind resumes its
+wonted calm.
+
+Having broken the spell, she reads the letter to the enraptured old man.
+Tom has arrived in New York; explains the cause of his long absence;
+speaks of several letters he has transmitted by post, (which she never
+received;) and his readiness to proceed to Charleston, by steamer, in a
+few days. His letter is warm with love and constancy; he recurs to old
+associations; he recounts his remembrance of the many kindnesses he
+received at the hands of her father, when homeless; of the care, to
+which he owes his reform, bestowed upon him by herself, and his burning
+anxiety to clasp her to his bosom.
+
+A second thought flashes upon her fevered brain. Am I not the subject of
+slander! Am I not contaminated by associations? Has not society sought
+to clothe me with shame? Truth bends before falsehood, and virtue
+withers under the rust of slandering tongues. Again a storm rises up
+before her, and she feels the poisoned arrow piercing deep into her
+heart. Am I not living under the very roof that will confirm the
+slanders of mine enemies? she asks herself. And the answer rings back in
+confirmation upon her too sensitive ears, and fastens itself in her
+feelings like a reptile with deadly fangs. No; she is not yet free from
+her enemies. They have the power of falsifying her to her lover. The
+thought fills her bosom with sad emotions. Strong in the consciousness
+of her virtue, she feels how weak she is in the walks of the worldly.
+Her persecutors are guilty, but being all-powerful may seek in still
+further damaging her character, a means of shielding themselves from
+merited retribution. It is the natural expedient of bad men in power to
+fasten crime upon the weak they have injured.
+
+Only a few days have to elapse, then, and Maria will be face to face
+with him in whom her fondest hopes have found refuge: but even in those
+few days it will be our duty to show how much injury may be inflicted
+upon the weak by the powerful.
+
+The old Antiquary observes the change that has come so suddenly over
+Maria's feelings, but his entreaties fail to elicit the cause. Shall she
+return to the house made doubtful by its frail occupants; or shall she
+crave the jailer's permission to let her remain and share her father's
+cell? Ah! solicitude for her father settles the question. The
+alternative may increase his apprehensions, and with them his
+sufferings. Night comes on; she kisses him, bids him a fond adieu, and
+with an aching heart returns to the house that has brought so much
+scandal upon her.
+
+On reaching the door she finds the house turned into a bivouac of
+revelry; her own chamber is invaded, and young men and women are making
+night jubilant over Champagne and cigars. Mr. Keepum and the Hon. Mr.
+Snivel are prominent among the carousers; and both are hectic of
+dissipation. Shall she flee back to the prison? Shall she go cast
+herself at the mercy of the keeper? As she is about following the
+thought with the act, she is seized rudely by the arms, dragged into the
+scene of carousal, and made the object of coarse jokes. One insists that
+she must come forward and drink; another holds an effervescing glass to
+her lips; a third says he regards her modesty out of place, and demands
+that she drown it with mellowing drinks. The almost helpless girl
+shrieks, and struggles to free herself from the grasp of her enemies.
+Mr. Snivel, thinking it highly improper that such cries go free,
+catches her in his arms, and places his hand over her mouth. "Caught
+among queer birds at last," he says, throwing an insidious wink at
+Keepum. "Will flock together, eh?"
+
+As if suddenly invested with herculean strength, Maria hurls the ruffian
+from her, and lays him prostrate on the floor. In his fall the table is
+overset, and bottles, decanters and sundry cut glass accompaniments, are
+spread in a confused mass on the floor. Suddenly Mr. Keepum extinguishes
+the lights. This is the signal for a scene of uproar and confusion we
+leave the reader to picture in his imagination. The cry of "murder" is
+followed quickly by the cry of "watch, watch!" and when the guardmen
+appear, which they are not long in doing, it is seen that the very
+chivalric gentlemen have taken themselves off--left, as a prey for the
+guard, only Maria and three frail females.
+
+Cries, entreaties, and explanations, are all useless with such men as
+our guard is composed of. Her clothes are torn, and she is found rioting
+in disreputable company. The sergeant of the guard says, "Being thus
+disagreeably caught, she must abide the penalty. It may teach you how to
+model your morals," he adds; and straightway, at midnight, she is
+dragged to the guard-house, and in spite of her entreaties, locked up in
+a cell with the outcast women. "Will you not hear me? will you not allow
+an innocent woman to speak in her own behalf? Do, I beg, I beseech, I
+implore you--listen but for a minute--render me justice, and save me
+from this last step of shame and disgrace," she appeals to the sergeant,
+as the cell door closes upon her.
+
+Mr. Sergeant Stubble, for such is his name, shakes his head in doubt.
+"Always just so," he says, with a shrug of the shoulders: "every one's
+innocent what comes here 'specially women of your sort. The worst
+rioters 'come the greatest sentimentalists, and repents most when they
+gets locked up--does! You'll find it a righteous place for reflection,
+in there." Mr. Sergeant Stubble shuts the door, and smothers her cries.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+GAINING STRENGTH FROM PERSECUTION.
+
+
+You know it is Bulwer who says, and says truly: "There is in calumny a
+rank poison that, even when the character throws off the slander, the
+heart remains diseased beneath the effect." The force of this on Maria's
+thoughts and feelings, surrounded as she was by the vile influences of a
+Charleston cell, came with strange effect as she contemplated her
+friendless condition. There is one witness who can bear testimony to her
+innocence, and in Him she still puts her trust. But the charitable have
+closed their ears to her; and the outside world is too busy to listen to
+her story. Those words of the poor woman who said, "You are still richer
+than me," again ring their sweet music in her ear, and give strength to
+her weary soul. They come to her like the voice of a merciful
+Providence, speaking through the hushed air of midnight, and breathing
+the sweet spirit of love into the dusky figures who tenant that dreary
+cell. To Maria it is the last spark of hope, that rarely goes out in
+woman's heart, and has come to tell her that to-morrow her star may
+brighten. And now, reader, turn with us to another scene of hope and
+anxiety.
+
+The steamer which bears Tom to Charleston is off Cape Romaine. He has
+already heard of the fate of the old man McArthur. But, he asks himself,
+may not truth and justice yet triumph? He paces and repaces the deck,
+now gazing vacantly in the direction the ship is steering, then walking
+to the stern and watching the long train of phosphoric light playing on
+the toppling waves.
+
+There was something evasive in the manner of the man who communicated to
+him the intelligence concerning McArthur. "May I ask another question of
+you, sir?" he inquires, approaching the man who, like himself, sauntered
+restlessly along the deck.
+
+The man hesitates, lights a fresh cigar. "You desire me to be frank with
+you, of course," rejoins the man. "But I observe you are agitated. I
+will answer your question, if it carry no personal wound. Speak, my
+friend."
+
+"You know Maria?"
+
+"Well."
+
+"You know what has become of her, or where she resides?"
+
+Again the man hesitates--then says, "These are delicate matters to
+discover."
+
+"You are not responsible for my feelings," interrupts the impatient man.
+
+"If, then, I must be plain,--she is leading the life of an outcast. Yes,
+sir, the story is that she has fallen, and from necessity. I will say
+this, though," he adds, by way of relief, "that I know nothing of it
+myself." The words fall like a death-knell on his thoughts and feelings.
+He stammers out a few words, but his tongue refuses to give utterance to
+his thoughts. His whole nature seems changed; his emotions have filled
+the cup of his sorrow; an abyss, deep, dark, and terrible, has opened to
+his excited imagination. All the dark scenes of his life, all the
+struggles he has had to gain his manliness, rise up before him like a
+gloomy panorama, and pointing him back to that goal of dissipation in
+which his mind had once found relief. He seeks his stateroom in
+silence, and there invokes the aid of Him who never refuses to protect
+the right. And here again we must return to another scene.
+
+Morning has come, the guard-roll has been called, and Judge Sleepyhorn
+is about to hold high court. Maria and the companions of her cell are
+arraigned, some black, others white, all before so august a judge. His
+eye rests on a pale and dejected woman inwardly resolved to meet her
+fate, calm and resolute. It is to her the last struggle of an eventful
+life, and she is resolved to meet it with womanly fortitude.
+
+The Judge takes his seat, looks very grave, and condescends to say there
+is a big docket to be disposed of this morning. "Crime seems to increase
+in the city," he says, bowing to Mr. Seargent Stubbs.
+
+"If your Honor will look at that," Mr. Stubbs says, smiling,--"most on
+em's bin up afore. All hard cases, they is."
+
+"If yeer Onher plases, might a woman o' my standin' say a woord in her
+own difince? Sure its only a woord, Judge, an beein a dacent gintleman
+ye'd not refuse me the likes."
+
+"Silence, there!" ejaculates Mr. Seargent Stubbs; "you must keep quiet
+in court."
+
+"Faith its not the likes o' you'd keep me aisy, Mr. Stubbs. Do yee see
+that now?" returns the woman, menacingly. She is a turbulent daughter of
+the Emerald Isle, full five feet nine inches, of broad bare feet, with a
+very black eye, and much in want of raiment.
+
+"The most corrigible case what comes to this court," says Mr. Stubbs,
+bowing knowingly to the judge. "Rather likes a prison, yer Honor. Bin up
+nine times a month. A dear customer to the state."
+
+The Judge, looking grave, and casting his eye learnedly over the pages
+of a ponderous statute book, inquires of Mr. Seargent Stubbs what the
+charge is.
+
+"Disturbed the hole neighborhood. A fight atween the Donahues, yer
+Honor."
+
+"Dorn't believe a woord of it, yeer Onher. Sure, din't Donahue black the
+eye o' me, and sphil the whisky too? Bad luck to Donahue, says I. You
+don't say that to me, says he. I'd say it to the divil, says I. Take
+that! says Donahue." Here Mrs. Donahue points to her eye, and brings
+down even the dignity of the court.
+
+"In order to preserve peace between you and Donahue," says his Honor,
+good naturedly, "I shall fine you ten dollars, or twenty days."
+
+"Let it go at twenty days," replies Mrs. Donahue, complimenting his
+Honor's high character, "fir a divil o' ten dollars have I." And Mrs.
+Donahue resigns herself to the tender mercies of Mr. Seargent Stubbs,
+who removes her out of court.
+
+A dozen or more delinquent negroes, for being out after hours without
+passes, are sentenced thirty stripes apiece, and removed, to the evident
+delight of the Court, who is resolved that the majesty of the law shall
+be maintained.
+
+It is Maria's turn now. Pale and trembling she approaches the circular
+railing, assisted by Mr. Seargent Stubbs. She first looks imploringly at
+the judge, then hangs down her head, and covers her face with her hands.
+
+"What is the charge?" inquires the Judge, turning to the loquacious
+Stubbs. Mr. Stubbs says: "Disorderly conduct--and in a house of bad
+repute."
+
+"I am innocent--I have committed no crime," interrupts the injured
+woman. "You have dragged me here to shame me." Suddenly her face
+becomes pale as marble, her limbs tremble, and the court is thrown into
+a state of confusion by her falling to the floor in a swoon.
+
+"Its all over with her now," says Mr. Stubbs, standing back in fear.
+
+Crime has not dried up all the kinder impulses of Judge Sleepyhorn's
+heart. Leaving the bench he comes quickly to the relief of the
+unfortunate girl, holds her cold trembling hand in his own, and tenderly
+bathes her temples. "Sorry the poor girl," he says, sympathizingly,
+"should have got down so. Knew her poor old father when he was
+comfortably off, and all Charleston liked him." His Honor adjourns
+court, and ten minutes pass before the sufferer is restored to
+consciousness. Then with a wild despairing look she scans those around
+her, rests her head on her hand despondingly, and gives vent to her
+tears. The cup of her sorrow has indeed overrun.
+
+"It was wrong to arrest you, young woman, and I sympathize with you. No
+charge has been preferred, and so you are free. A carriage waits at the
+door, and I have ordered you to be driven home," says the judge,
+relaxing into sympathy.
+
+"I have no home now," she returns, the tears coursing down her wet
+cheeks. "Slaves have homes, but I have none now."
+
+"When you want a friend, you'll find a friend in me. Keep up your
+spirits, and remember that virtue is its own reward." Having said this,
+the Judge raises her gently to her feet, supports her to the carriage,
+and sees her comfortably seated. "Remember, you know, where to find a
+friend if you want one," he says, and bids her good-morning. In another
+minute the carriage is rolling her back to the home from whence she was
+taken. She has no better home now.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+AN EXCITEMENT.
+
+
+A bright fire burned that night in Keepum's best parlor, furnished with
+all the luxuries modern taste could invent. Keepum, restless, paces the
+carpet, contemplating his own importance, for he has just been made a
+Major of Militia, and we have a rare love for the feather. Now he pauses
+at a window and looks impatiently out, then frisks his fingers through
+his crispy hair and resumes his pacing. He expects some one, whose
+coming he awaits with evident anxiety. "The time is already up," he
+says, drawing his watch from his pocket. The door-bell rings just then,
+his countenance brightens, and a servant ushers Mr. Snivel in. "The time
+is already up, my good fellow," says Keepum, extending his hand
+familiarly,--Mr. Snivel saying, "I've so many demands on my time, you
+know. We're in good time, you know. Must bring the thing to a head
+to-night." A short conversation carried on in whispers, and they sally
+out, and soon disappear down Broad street.
+
+Just rounding the frowning walls of fort Sumter, a fort the restless
+people never had any particular love for, is a big red light of the
+steamer cutting through the sea like a monster of smoke and flame, on
+her way up the harbor. Another hour, and she will be safely moored at
+her landing. Tom stands on the upper deck, looking intently towards the
+city, his anxiety increasing as the ship approaches the end of her
+voyage, and his eager eye catching each familiar object only to remind
+him more forceably of the time when he seemed on the downward road of
+life. Hope had already begun to dispel his fears, and the belief that
+what the man had told him was founded only in slander, became stronger
+the more he pondered over it.
+
+St. Michael's clock has just struck ten, and the mounted guard are
+distributing into their different beats. Maria, contemplating what may
+come to-morrow, sits at the window of her lonely chamber like one whom
+the world had forgotten. The dull vibrating sound of the clock still
+murmurs on the air as she is startled from her reverie by the sound of
+voices under the window. She feels her very soul desponding. It does
+indeed seem as if that moment has come when nature in her last struggle
+with hope must yield up the treasure of woman's life, and sink into a
+life of remorse and shame. The talking becomes more distinct; then there
+is a pause, succeeded by Keepum and Snivel silently entering her room,
+the one drawing a chair by her side, the other taking a seat near the
+door. "Come as friends, you know," says Keepum, exchanging glances with
+Snivel, then fixing his eyes wickedly on the woman. "Don't seem to enjoy
+our company, eh? Poor folks is got to puttin' on airs right big,
+now-a-days. Don't 'mount to much, anyhow; ain't much better than
+niggers, only can't sell 'em." "Poor folks must keep up appearances,
+eh," interposes Mr. Snivel. They are waiting an opportunity for seizing
+and overpowering the unprotected girl. We put our chivalry to strange
+uses at times.
+
+But the steamer has reached her wharf; the roaring of her escaping steam
+disturbs the city, and reëchoes far away down the bay. Again familiar
+scenes open to the impatient man's view; old friends pass and repass him
+unrecognized; but only one thought impels him, and that is fixed on
+Maria. He springs ashore, dashes through the crowd of spectators, and
+hurries on, scarcely knowing which way he is going.
+
+At length he pauses on the corner of King and Market streets, and
+glances up to read the name by the glare of gas-light. An old negro
+wends his way homeward. "Daddy," says he, "how long have you lived in
+Charleston?"
+
+"Never was out on em, Mas'r," replies the negro, looking inquisitively
+into the anxious man's face. "Why, lor's me, if dis are bin't Mas'r Tom,
+what used t' be dis old nigger's young Mas'r."
+
+"Is it you, Uncle Cato?" Their recognition was warm, hearty, and true.
+"God bless you, my boy; I've need of your services now," says Tom, still
+holding the hard hand of the old negro firmly grasped in his own, and
+discovering the object of his mission.
+
+"Jus' tote a'ter old Cato, Mas'r Tom. Maria's down da, at Undine's
+cabin, yander. Ain't no better gal libin dan Miss Maria," replies Cato,
+enlarging on Maria's virtues. There is no time to be lost. They hurry
+forward, Tom following the old negro, and turning into a narrow lane to
+the right, leading to Undine's cabin. But here they are doomed to
+disappointment. They reach Undine's cabin, but Maria is not there.
+Undine comes to the door, and points away down the lane, in the
+direction of a bright light. "You will find her dare" says Undine; "and
+if she ain't dare, I don' know where she be." They thank her, repay her
+with a piece of silver, and hurry away in the direction of the light,
+which seems to burn dimmer and dimmer as they approach. It suddenly
+disappears, and, having reached the house, a rickety wooden tenement, a
+cry of "Save me, save me! Heaven save me!" rings out on the still air,
+and falls on the ear of the already excited man, like a solemn warning.
+
+"Up dar! Mas'r Tom, up dar!" shouts Cato, pointing to a stairs leading
+on the outside. Up Tom vaults, and recognizing Maria's voice,
+supplicating for mercy, thunders at the door, which gives away before
+his strength. "It is me, Maria! it is me!" he proclaims. "Who is this
+that has dared to abuse or insult you?" and she runs and throws herself
+into his arms. "A light! a light, bring a light, Cato!" he demands, and
+the old negro hastens to obey.
+
+In the confusion of the movement, Keepum reaches the street in safety
+and hastens to his home, leaving his companion to take care of himself.
+
+A pale gleam of light streams into the open door, discovering a tall
+dusky figure moving noiselessly towards it. "Why, if here bin't Mas'r
+Snivel!" ejaculates old Cato, who returns bearing a candle, the light of
+which falls on the tall figure of Mr. Snivel.
+
+"What, villain! is it you who has brought all this distress upon a
+friendless girl?"----
+
+"Glad to see you back, Tom. Don't make so much of it, my good
+fellow--only a bit of a lark, you know. 'Pon my honor, there was nothing
+wrong meant. Ready to do you a bit of a good turn, any time," interrupts
+Mr. Snivel, blandly, and extending his hand.
+
+"You! villain, do me a friendly act? Never. You poisoned the mind of my
+mother against me, robbed her of her property, and then sought to
+destroy the happiness and blast forever the reputation of one who is
+dearer to me than a sister. You have lived a miscreant long enough. You
+must die now." Quickly the excited man draws a pistol, the report rings
+sharply on the ear, and the tall figure of Mr. Snivel staggers against
+the door, then falls to the ground,--dead. His day of reckoning has
+come, and with it a terrible retribution.
+
+"Now Maria, here," says Tom, picking up a packet of letters that had
+dropped from the pocket of the man, as he fell, "is the proof of his
+guilt and my sincerity." They were the letters written by him to Maria,
+and intercepted by Mr. Snivel, through the aid of a clerk in the
+post-office. "He has paid the penalty of his misdeeds, and I have no
+regrets to offer. To-morrow I will give myself up and ask only justice."
+
+Then clasping Maria in his arms he bids old Cato follow him, and
+proceeds with her to a place of safety for the night, as an anxious
+throng gather about the house, eager to know the cause of the shooting.
+"Ah, Mas'r Snivel," says old Cato, pausing to take a last look of the
+prostrate form, "you's did a heap o' badness. Gone now. Nobody'll say he
+care."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX.
+
+ALL'S WELL.
+
+
+Two months have passed since the events recorded in the preceding
+chapter. Tom has been arraigned before a jury of his peers, and
+honorably acquitted, although strong efforts were made to procure a
+conviction, for Mr. Snivel had many friends in Charleston who considered
+his death a loss. But the people said it was a righteous verdict, and
+justified it by their applause.
+
+And now, the dark clouds of sorrow and trial having passed away, the
+happy dawn of a new life is come. How powerfully the truth of the words
+uttered by the woman, Undine, impresses itself on her mind now,--"You
+are still richer than me." It is a bright sunny morning in early April.
+Birds are making the air melodious with their songs; flowers blooming by
+the roadside, are distilling their perfumes; a bright and serene sky,
+tinged in the East with soft, azure clouds, gives a clear, delicate
+outline to the foliage, so luxuriant and brilliant of color, skirting
+the western edge of the harbor, and reflecting itself in the calm,
+glassy water. A soft whispering wind comes fragrant from the west; it
+does indeed seem as if nature were blending her beauties to make the
+harmony perfect.
+
+A grotesque group, chiefly negroes, old and young, may be seen gathered
+about the door of a quaint old personage near the millpond. Their
+curiosity is excited to the highest pitch, and they wait with evident
+impatience the coming of the object that has called them together. Chief
+among the group is old Cato, in his best clothes, consisting of a tall
+drab hat, a faded blue coat, the tail extending nearly to the ground,
+striped pantaloons, a scarlet vest, an extravagant shirt collar, tied at
+the neck with a piece of white cotton, and his bare feet. Cato moves up
+and down, evidently feeling himself an important figure of the event,
+and admonishing his young "brudren," who are much inclined to mischief,
+not a few having perched on the pickets of the parsonage, to keep on
+their best behavior. Then he discourses with great volubility of his
+long acquaintance with Mas'r Tom and Miss Maria.
+
+As if to add another prominent picture to the scene, there appears at
+the door of the parsonage, every few minutes, a magnificently got-up
+negro, portly, grey hair, and venerable, dressed in unsullied black, a
+spotless white cravat, and gloves. This is Uncle Pomp, who considers
+himself an essential part of the parsonage, and is regarded with awe for
+his Bible knowledge by all the colored people of the neighborhood. Pomp
+glances up, then down the street, advances a few steps, admonishes the
+young negroes, and exchanges bows with Cato, whom he regards as quite a
+common brought-up negro compared with himself. Now he disappears, Cato
+remarking to his companions that if he had Pomp's knowledge and learning
+he would not thank anybody to make him a white man.
+
+Presently there is a stir in the group: all eyes are turned up the road,
+and the cry is, "Dare da comes." Two carriages approach at a rapid
+speed, and haul up at the gate, to the evident delight and relief of the
+younger members of the group, who close in and begin scattering sprigs
+of laurel and flowers along the path, as two couple, in bridal dress,
+alight, trip quickly through the garden, and disappear, Pomp bowing
+them into the parsonage. Tom and Maria are the central figures of the
+interesting ceremony about to be performed. Old Cato received a warm
+press of the hand from Tom as he passed, and Cato returned the
+recognition, with "God bress Mas'r Tom." A shadow of disappointment
+deepened in his face as he saw the door closed, and it occurred to him
+that he was not to be a witness of the ceremony. But the door again
+opened, and Pomp relieved his wounded feelings by motioning with his
+finger, and, when Cato had reached the porch, bowing him into the house.
+
+And now we have reached the last scene in the picture. There, kneeling
+before the altar in the parlor of that quaint old parsonage, are the
+happy couple and their companions. The clergyman, in his surplice, reads
+the touching service in a clear and impressive voice, while Pomp, in a
+pair of antique spectacles, ejaculates the responses in a voice peculiar
+to his race. Old Cato, kneeling before a chair near the door, follows
+with a loud--Amen. There is something supremely simple, touching, and
+impressive in the picture. As the closing words of the benediction fall
+from the clergyman's lips, Maria, her pale oval face shadowed with that
+sweetness and gentleness an innocent heart only can reflect, raises her
+eyes upwards as if to return thanks to the Giver of all good for his
+mercy and protection. As she did this a ray of light stole in at the
+window and played softly over her features, like a messenger of love
+come to announce a happy future. Just then the cup of her joy became
+full, and tears, like gems of purest water, glistened in her eyes, then
+moistened her pallid cheeks. Truly the woman spoke right when she said,
+
+   "You are still still richer than me."
+
+
+
+
+HOME INSURANCE COMPANY.
+OFFICE, No. 112 & 114 BROADWAY.
+
+
+CASH CAPITAL, ONE MILLION DOLLARS.
+Assets, 1st July, 1860, $1,481,819 27. Liabilities, 1st July, 1860,
+54,068 67.
+
+
+The Home Insurance Company continues to issue against loss or damage
+by FIRE and the dangers of INLAND NAVIGATION AND TRANSPORTATION,
+on terms as favorable as the nature of the risks and the real
+security of the Insured and the Company will warrant.
+
+LOSSES EQUITABLY ADJUSTED AND PROMPTLY PAID.
+
+Charles J. Martin, President.   A.F. Willmarth, Vice-President.
+J. MILTON SMITH, Secretary. JOHN MCGEE, Assistant Secretary.
+
+
+DIRECTORS.
+
+Wm. G. Lambert,                         of A. & A. Lawrence & Co.
+Geo. C. Collins,                        of Sherman, Collins & Co.
+Danford N. Barney,                          of Wells, Fargo & Co.
+Lucius Hopkins,         President of Importers and Traders' Bank.
+Thos. Messenger,                            of T. & H. Messenger.
+Wm. H. Mellen,                           of Claflin, Mellen & Co.
+Chas. J. Martin,                                       President.
+A.F. Willmarth,                                   Vice-President.
+Charles B. Hatch,                             of C.B. Hatch & Co.
+B. Watson Bull,                                of Merrick & Bull.
+Homer Morgan,
+Levi P. Stone,                              of Stone, Starr & Co.
+Jas. Humphrey,                 late of Barney, Humphrey & Butler.
+George Pearce,                             of George Pearce & Co.
+Ward A. Work,                              of Ward A. Work & Son.
+James Low,                     of James Low & Co., of Louisville.
+I.H. Frothingham,             late firm of I.H. Frothingham & Co.
+Charles A. Bulkley,                                 Bulkley & Co.
+Geo. D. Morgan,                              of E.D. Morgan & Co.
+Cephas H. Norton,                             of Norton & Jewett.
+Theo. McNamee,                            of Bowen, McNamee & Co.
+Richard Bigelow,                  of Doan, King & Co., St. Louis.
+Oliver E. Wood,                            of Willard, Wood & Co.
+Alfred S. Barnes,                             A.S. Barnes & Burr.
+George Bliss,                              of Phelps, Bliss & Co.
+Roe Lockwood,                               of R. Lockwood & Son.
+Levi P. Morton,                         of Morton, Grinnell & Co.
+Curtis Noble,                             late of Condit & Noble.
+J.B. Hutchinson,                      of J.C. Howe & Co., Boston.
+Chas. P. Baldwin,                         of Baldwin, Starr & Co.
+Amos T. Dwight,                       of Trowbridge, Dwight & Co.
+H.A. Hurlbut,                             of Swift, Hurlbut & Co.
+Jesse Hoyt,                                   of Jesse Hoyt & Co.
+Wm. Sturgis, Jr.,                          of Sturgis, Shaw & Co.
+John R. Ford,                                  of Ford Rubber Co.
+Sidney Mason,                           late of Mason & Thompson.
+Geo. T. Stedman,         of Stedman, Carlisle & Shaw, Cincinnati.
+Cyrus Yale, Jr.,        of Cyrus Yale, Jr. & Co., of New Orleans.
+Wm. R. Fosdick,                     of Wm. R. & Chas. B. Fosdick.
+David I. Boyd,                    of Boyd, Brother & Co., Albany.
+F.H. Cossitt,              of Cossitt, Hill & Tallmadge, Memphis.
+Lewis Roberts,                                of L. Roberts & Co.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of An Outcast, by F. Colburn Adams
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OUTCAST ***
+
+***** This file should be named 20745-8.txt or 20745-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/4/20745/
+
+Produced by Graeme Mackreth, Curtis Weyant and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images produced by the Wright
+American Fiction Project.)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/20745-8.zip b/20745-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf8927c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/20745-8.zip
diff --git a/20745-h.zip b/20745-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ed86f1f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/20745-h.zip
diff --git a/20745-h/20745-h.htm b/20745-h/20745-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f2ecff3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/20745-h/20745-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,12518 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of An Outcast, by F. Colburn Adams.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    p {  margin-top: .75em;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em;
+         }
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+         text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+         clear: both;
+         }
+    hr { width: 33%;
+	 margin-top: 2em;
+	 margin-bottom: 2em;
+         margin-left: auto;
+         margin-right: auto;
+         clear: both;
+       }
+
+    table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;}
+
+    body{margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+        }
+
+    .pagenum  { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+            /*  visibility: hidden;  */
+                position: absolute;
+                left: 92%;
+                font-size: smaller;
+                text-align: right;
+              } /* page numbers */
+
+
+    .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;}
+
+
+    .bb       {border-bottom: solid 2px;}
+    .bl       {border-left: solid 2px;}
+    .bt       {border-top: solid 2px;}
+    .br       {border-right: solid 2px;}
+    .bbox     {border: solid 2px;}
+
+    .center   {text-align: center;}
+    .smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+    .u        {text-decoration: underline;}
+
+
+
+
+    .footnotes        {border: dashed 1px;}
+    .footnote         {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;}
+    .footnote .label  {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;}
+    .fnanchor         {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;}
+
+
+    // -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of An Outcast, by F. Colburn Adams
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: An Outcast
+       or, Virtue and Faith
+
+Author: F. Colburn Adams
+
+Release Date: March 5, 2007 [EBook #20745]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OUTCAST ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Graeme Mackreth, Curtis Weyant and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images produced by the Wright
+American Fiction Project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<h1>AN OUTCAST;</h1>
+
+<h5>OR,</h5>
+
+<h2>VIRTUE AND FAITH.</h2>
+
+
+<h4>BY</h4>
+
+<h2>F. COLBURN ADAMS.</h2>
+
+
+<p class='center'>"Be merciful to the erring."</p>
+
+
+<p class='center' style="margin-top: 5em;"><small>NEW YORK:<br /> PUBLISHED BY M. DOOLADY,<br /> 49 WALKER STREET. <br />1861.</small></p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<p class='center' style="margin-top: 5em;"><small>Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1861,<br />
+
+<span class="smcap">By M. Doolady</span>,<br />
+
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
+Southern District of New York.</small></p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2>PREFACE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>When reason and conscience are a man's true guides to what he
+undertakes, and he acts strictly in obedience to them, he has little to
+fear from what the unthinking may say. You cannot, I hold, mistake a man
+intent only on doing good. You may differ with him on the means he calls
+to his aid; but having formed a distinct plan, and carried it out in
+obedience to truth and right, it will be difficult to impugn the
+sincerity of his motives. For myself, I care not what weapon a man
+choose, so long as he wield it effectively, and in the cause of humanity
+and justice. We are a sensitive nation, prone to pass great moral evils
+over in silence rather than expose them boldly, or trace them to their
+true sources. I am not indifferent to the duty every writer owes to
+public opinion, nor the penalties he incurs in running counter to it.
+But fear of public opinion, it seems to me, has been productive of much
+evil, inasmuch as it prefers to let crime exist rather than engage in
+reforms. Taking this view of the matter, I hold fear of public opinion
+to be an evil much to be deplored. It aids in keeping out of sight that
+which should be exposed to public view, and is satisfied to pass
+unheeded the greatest of moral evils. Most writers touch these great
+moral evils with a timidity that amounts to fear, and in describing
+crimes of the greatest magnitude, do it so daintily as to divest their
+arguments of all force. The public cannot reasonably be expected to
+apply a remedy for an evil, unless the cause as well as the effect be
+exposed truthfully to its view. It is the knowledge of their existence
+and the magnitude of their influence upon society, which no false
+delicacy should keep out of sight, that nerves the good and generous to
+action. I am aware that in exciting this action, great care should be
+taken lest the young and weak-minded become fascinated with the gilding
+of the machinery called to the writer's aid. It is urged by many good
+people, who take somewhat narrow views of this subject, that in dealing
+with the mysteries of crime vice should only be described as an ugly
+dame with most repulsive features. I differ with those persons. It would
+be a violation of the truth to paint her thus, and few would read of her
+in such an unsightly dress. These persons do not, I think, take a
+sufficiently clear view of the grades into which the vicious of our
+community are divided, and their different modes of living. They found
+their opinions solely on the moral and physical condition of the most
+wretched and abject class, whose sufferings they would have us hold up
+to public view, a warning to those who stand hesitating on the brink
+between virtue and vice. I hold it better to expose the allurements
+first, and then paint vice in her natural colors&mdash;a dame so gay and
+fascinating that it is difficult not to become enamored of her. The ugly
+and repulsive dame would have few followers, and no need of writers to
+caution the unwary against her snares. And I cannot forget, that truth
+always carries the more forcible lesson. But we must paint the road to
+vice as well as the castle, if we would give effect to our warning. That
+road is too frequently strewn with the brightest of flowers, the thorns
+only discovering themselves when the sweetness of the flowers has
+departed. I have chosen, then, to describe things as they are. You,
+reader, must be the judge whether I have put too much gilding on the
+decorations.</p>
+
+<p>I confess that the subject of this work was not congenial to my
+feelings. I love to deal with the bright and cheerful of life; to leave
+the dark and sorrowful to those whose love for them is stronger than
+mine. Nor am I insensible to the liabilities incurred by a writer who,
+having found favor with the public, ventures upon so delicate and
+hazardous an undertaking. It matters not how carefully and discreetly he
+perform the task, there will always be persons enough to question his
+sincerity and cast suspicion upon his motives. What, I have already been
+asked, was my motive for writing such a book as this? Why did I descend
+into the repulsive haunts of the wretched and the gilded palaces of the
+vicious for the material of a novel? My answer is in my book.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">New York</span>, <i>January 1st</i>, 1861.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2>AN OUTCAST.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>CHARLESTON.</p>
+
+
+<p>This simple story commences on a November evening, in the autumn of
+185-. Charleston and New York furnish me with the scenes and characters.</p>
+
+<p>Our quaint old city has been in a disquiet mood for several weeks.
+Yellow fever has scourged us through the autumn, and we have again taken
+to scourging ourselves with secession fancies. The city has not looked
+up for a month. Fear had driven our best society into the North, into
+the mountains, into all the high places. Business men had nothing to do;
+stately old mansions were in the care of faithful slaves, and there was
+high carnival in the kitchen. Fear had shut up the churches, shut up the
+law-courts, shut up society generally. There was nothing for lawyers to
+do, and the buzzards found it lonely enough in the market-place. The
+clergy were to be found at fashionable watering-places, and politicians
+found comfort in cards and the country. Timid doctors had taken to their
+heels, and were not to be found. Book-keepers and bank-clerks were on
+Sullivan's Island. The poor suffered in the city, and the rich had not a
+thought to give them. Grave-looking men gathered into little knots, at
+street corners, and talked seriously of Death's banquet. Old negroes
+gathered about the kitchen-table, and terrified themselves with tales of
+death: timid ones could not be got to pass through streets where the
+scourge raged fiercest. Mounted guardsmen patrolled the lonely streets
+at night, their horses' hoofs sounding on the still air, like a solemn
+warning through a deserted city.</p>
+
+<p>Sisters of Mercy, in deep, dark garments, moved noiselessly along the
+streets, by day and by night, searching out and ministering to the sick
+and the dying. Like brave sentinels, they never deserted their posts.
+The city government was in a state of torpor. The city government did
+not know what to do. The city government never did know what to do. Four
+hundred sick and dying lay languishing in the hospital. The city
+government was sorry for them, and resolved that Providence would be the
+best doctor. The dead gave place to the dying by dozens, and there has
+been high carnival down in the dead-yard. The quick succession of
+funeral trains has cast a shade of melancholy over the broad road that
+leads to it. Old women are vending pies and cakes at the gates, and
+little boys are sporting over the newly-made graves, that the wind has
+lashed into furrows. Rude coffins stand about in piles, and tipsy
+negroes are making the very air jubilant with the songs they bury the
+dead to.</p>
+
+<p>A change has come over the scene now. There is no more singing down in
+the dead-yard. A bright sun is shedding its cheerful rays over the broad
+landscape, flowers deck the roadside, and the air comes balmy and
+invigorating. There has been frost down in the lowlands. A solitary
+stranger paces listlessly along the walks of the dead-yard, searching
+in vain for the grave of a departed friend. The scourge has left a sad
+void between friends living and friends gone to eternal rest. Familiar
+faces pass us on the street, only to remind us of familiar faces passed
+away forever. The city is astir again. Society is coming back to us.
+There is bustle in the churches, bustle in the law courts, bustle in the
+hotels, bustle along the streets, bustle everywhere. There is bustle at
+the steamboat landings, bustle at the railway stations, bustle in all
+our high places. Vehicles piled with trunks are hurrying along the
+streets; groups of well-dressed negroes are waiting their master's
+return at the landings, or searching among piles of trunks for the
+family baggage. Other groups are giving Mas'r and Missus such a cordial
+greeting. Society is out of an afternoon, on King street, airing its
+dignity. There is Mr. Midshipman Button, in his best uniform, inviting
+the admiration of the fair, and making such a bow to all distinguished
+persons. Midshipman Button, as he is commonly called, has come home to
+us, made known to us the pleasing fact that he is ready to command our
+"navy" for us, whenever we build it for him. There is Major Longstring,
+of the Infantry, as fine a man in his boots as woman would fancy, ready
+to fight any foe; and corporal Quod, of the same regiment, ready to
+shoulder his weapon and march at a moment. We have an immense admiration
+for all these heroes, just now; it is only equalled by their admiration
+of themselves. The buzzards, too, have assumed an unusual air of
+importance&mdash;are busy again in the market; and long-bearded politicians
+are back again, at their old business, getting us in a state of
+discontent with the Union and everybody in general.</p>
+
+<p>There is a great opening of shutters among the old mansions. The music
+of the organ resounds in the churches, and we are again in search of the
+highest pinnacle to pin our dignity upon. Our best old families have
+been doing the North extensively, and come home to us resolved never to
+go North again. But it is fashionable to go North, and they will break
+this resolution when spring comes. Mamma, and Julia Matilda have brought
+home an immense stock of Northern millinery, all paid for with the
+hardest of Southern money, which papa declares the greatest evil the
+state suffers under. He has been down in the wilderness for the last ten
+years, searching in vain for a remedy. The North is the hungry dog at
+the door, and he will not be kicked away. So we have again mounted that
+same old hobby-horse. There was so much low-breeding at the North,
+landlords were so extortionate, vulgarity in fine clothes got in your
+way wherever you went, servants were so impertinent, and the trades
+people were so given to cheating. We would shake our garments of the
+North, if only some one would tell us how to do it becomingly.</p>
+
+<p>Master Tom and Julia Matilda differ with the old folks on this great
+question of bidding adieu to the North. Tom had a "high old time
+generally," and is sorry the season closed so soon. Julia Matilda has
+been in a pensive mood ever since she returned. That fancy ball was so
+brilliant; those moonlight drives were so pleasant; those flirtations
+were carried on with such charming grace! A dozen little love affairs,
+like pleasant dreams, are touching her heart with their sweet
+remembrance. The more she contemplates them the sadder she becomes.
+There are no drives on the beach now, no moonlight rambles, no
+promenades down the great, gay verandah, no waltzing, no soul-stirring
+music, no tender love-tales told under the old oaks. But they brighten
+in her fancy, and she sighs for their return. She is a prisoner now,
+surrounded by luxury in the grim old mansion. Julia Matilda and Master
+Tom will return to the North when spring comes, and enjoy whatever there
+is to be enjoyed, though Major Longstring and Mr. Midshipman Button
+should get us safe out of the Union.</p>
+
+<p>Go back with us, reader, not to the dead-yard, but to the quiet walks of
+Magnolia Cemetery, hard by. A broad avenue cuts through the centre, and
+stretches away to the west, down a gently undulating slope. Rows of tall
+pines stand on either side, their branches forming an arch overhead, and
+hung with long, trailing moss, moving and whispering mysteriously in the
+gentle wind. Solemn cypress trees mark the by-paths; delicate flowers
+bloom along their borders, and jessamine vines twine lovingly about the
+branches of palmetto and magnolia trees. An air of enchanting harmony
+pervades the spot; the dead could repose in no prettier shade.
+Exquisitely chiselled marbles decorate the resting-places of the rich;
+plain slabs mark those of the poor.</p>
+
+<p>It is evening now. The shadows are deepening down the broad avenue, the
+wind sighs touchingly through the tall pines, and the sinking sun is
+shedding a deep purple hue over the broad landscape. A solitary
+mocking-bird has just tuned its last note, and sailed swiftly into the
+dark hedgerow, down in the dead-yard.</p>
+
+<p>A young girl, whose fair oval face the sun of eighteen summers has
+warmed into exquisite beauty, sits musingly under a cypress tree. Her
+name is Anna Bonnard, and she is famous in all the city for her beauty,
+as well as the symmetry of her form. Her dress is snowy white, fastened
+at the neck with a blue ribbon, and the skirts flowing. Her face is
+like chiselled marble, her eyes soft, black, and piercing, and deep,
+dark tresses of silky hair fall down her shoulders to her waist. Youth,
+beauty, and innocence are written in every feature of that fair face,
+over which a pensive smile now plays, then deepens into sadness. Here
+she has sat for several minutes, her head resting lightly on her right
+hand, and her broad sun-hat in her left, looking intently at a newly
+sodded grave with a plain white slab, on which is inscribed, in black
+letters&mdash;"Poor Miranda." This is all that betrays the sleeper beneath.</p>
+
+<p>"And this is where they have laid her," she says, with a sigh. "Poor
+Miranda! like me, she was lost to this world. The world only knew the
+worst of her." And the tears that steal from her eyes tell the tale of
+her affection. "Heaven will deal kindly with the outcast, for Heaven
+only knows her sorrows." She rises quickly from her seat, casts a glance
+over the avenue, then pats the sods with her hands, and strews cypress
+branches and flowers over the grave, saying, "This is the last of poor
+Miranda. Some good friend has laid her here, and we are separated
+forever. It was misfortune that made us friends." She turns slowly from
+the spot, and walks down the avenue towards the great gate leading to
+the city. A shadow crosses her path; she hesitates, and looks with an
+air of surprise as the tall figure of a man advances hastily, saying,
+"Welcome, sweet Anna&mdash;welcome home."</p>
+
+<p>He extends his gloved hand, which she receives with evident reluctance.
+"Pray what brought you here, Mr. Snivel?" she inquires, fixing her eyes
+on him, suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>"If you would not take it impertinent, I might ask you the same
+question. No, I will not. It was your charms, sweetest Anna. Love can
+draw me&mdash;I am a worshipper at its fountain. And as for law,&mdash;you know I
+live by that."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel is what may be called a light comedy lawyer; ready to enter
+the service of any friend in need. He is commonly called "Snivel the
+lawyer," although the profession regard him with suspicion, and society
+keeps him on its out skirts. He is, in a word, a sportsman of small
+game, ready to bring down any sort of bird that chances within reach of
+his fowling-piece. He is tall of figure and slender, a pink of fashion
+in dress, wears large diamonds, an eye-glass, and makes the most of a
+light, promising moustache. His face is small, sharp, and discolored
+with the sun, his eyes grey and restless, his hair fair, his mouth wide
+and characterless. Cunning and low intrigue are marked in every feature
+of his face; and you look in vain for the slightest evidence of a frank
+and manly nature.</p>
+
+<p>"Only heard you were home an hour ago. Set right off in pursuit of you.
+Cannot say exactly what impelled me. Love, perhaps, as I said before."
+Mr. Snivel twirls his hat in the air, and condescends to say he feels in
+an exceedingly happy state of mind. "I knew you needed a protector, and
+came to offer myself as your escort. I take this occasion to say, that
+you have always seen me in the false light my enemies magnify me in."</p>
+
+<p>"I have no need of your escort, Mr. Snivel; and your friendship I can
+dispense with, since, up to this time, it has only increased my
+trouble," she interposes, continuing down the avenue.</p>
+
+<p>"We all need friends&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"True friends, you mean, Mr. Snivel."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, have it so. You hold that all is false in men. I hold no
+such thing. Come, give me your confidence, Anna. Look on the bright
+side. Forget the past, and let the present serve. When you want a
+friend, or a job of law, call on me." Mr. Snivel adjusts his eye-glass,
+and again twirls his hat.</p>
+
+<p>The fair girl shakes her head and says, "she hopes never to need either.
+But, tell me, Mr. Snivel, are you not the messenger of some one else?"
+she continues.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I confess," he replies, with a bow, "its partly so and partly not
+so. I came to put in one word for myself and two for the judge. Its no
+breach of confidence to say he loves you to distraction. At home in any
+court, you know, and stands well with the bar&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Love for me! He can have no love for me. I am but an outcast, tossed on
+the sea of uncertainty; all bright to-day, all darkness to-morrow. Our
+life is a stream of excitement, down which we sail quickly to a
+miserable death. I know the doom, and feel the pang. But men do not love
+us, and the world never regrets us. Go, tell him to forget me."</p>
+
+<p>"Forget you? not he. Sent me to say he would meet you to-night. You are
+at the house of Madame Flamingo, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am; and sorry am I that I am. Necessity has no choice."</p>
+
+<p>"You have left Mulholland behind, eh? Never was a fit companion for you.
+Can say that without offence. He is a New York rough, you know.
+Charleston gentlemen have a holy dislike of such fellows."</p>
+
+<p>"He has been good to me. Why should I forsake him for one who affects to
+love me to-day, and will loathe me to-morrow? He has been my only true
+friend. Heaven may smile on us some day, and give us enough to live a
+life of virtue and love. As for the mystery that separates me from my
+parents, that had better remain unsolved forever." As she says this,
+they pass out of the great gate, and are on the road to the city.</p>
+
+<p>A darker scene is being enacted in a different part of the city. A grim
+old prison, its walls, like the state's dignity, tumbling down and going
+to decay; its roof black with vegetating moss, and in a state of
+dilapidation generally,&mdash;stands, and has stood for a century or more, on
+the western outskirts of the city. We have a strange veneration for this
+damp old prison, with its strange histories cut on its inner walls. It
+has been threatening to tumble down one of these days, and it does not
+say much for our civilization that we have let it stand. But the
+question is asked, and by grave senators, if we pull it down, what shall
+we do with our pick-pockets and poor debtors? We mix them nicely up
+here, and throw in a thief for a messmate. What right has a poor debtor
+to demand that the sovereign state of South Carolina make a distinction
+between poverty and crime? It pays fifteen cents a day for getting them
+all well starved; and there its humanity ends, as all state humanity
+should end.</p>
+
+<p>The inner iron gate has just closed, and two sturdy constables have
+dragged into the corridor a man, or what liquor has left of a man, and
+left him prostrate and apparently insensible on the floor. "Seventh time
+we've bring'd him 'ere a thin two months. Had to get a cart, or Phin and
+me never'd a got him 'ere," says one of the men, drawing a long breath,
+and dusting the sleeves of his coat with his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"An officer earns what money he gits a commitin' such a cove," says the
+other, shaking his head, and looking down resentfully at the man on the
+floor. "Life'll go out on him like a kan'l one of these days." Officer
+continues moralizing on the bad results of liquor, and deliberately
+draws a commitment from his breast pocket. "Committed by Justice
+Snivel&mdash;breaking the peace at the house of Madame&mdash;&mdash;" He cannot make
+out the name.</p>
+
+<p>First officer interposes learnedly&mdash;"Madame Flamingo." "Sure enuf, he's
+been playin' his shines at the old woman's house again. Why, Master
+Jailer, Justice Snivel must a made fees enuf a this 'ere cove to make a
+man rich enough," continues Mr. Constable Phin.</p>
+
+<p>"As unwelcome a guest as comes to this establishment," rejoins the
+corpulent old jailer, adjusting his spectacles, and reading the
+commitment, a big key hanging from the middle finger of his left hand.
+"Used to be sent up here by his mother, to be starved into reform. He is
+past reform. The poor-house is the place to send him to, 'tis."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, take good care on him, Master Jailer, now you've got him. He
+comes of a good enough family," says the first officer.</p>
+
+<p>"He's bin in this condition more nor a week&mdash;layin' down yonder, in Snug
+Harbor. Liquor's drived all the sense out on him," rejoins the
+second&mdash;and bidding the jailer good-morning, they retire.</p>
+
+<p>The forlorn man still lies prostrate on the floor, his tattered garments
+and besotted face presenting a picture of the most abject wretchedness.
+The old jailer looks down upon him with an air of sympathy, and shakes
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>"The doctor that can cure you doesn't live in this establishment," he
+says. The sound of a voice singing a song is heard, and the figure of a
+powerfully framed man, dressed in a red shirt and grey homespun
+trousers, advances, folds his arms deliberately, and contemplates with
+an air of contempt the prostrate man. His broad red face, flat nose,
+massive lips, and sharp grey eyes, his crispy red hair, bristling over a
+low narrow forehead, and two deep scars on the left side of his face,
+present a picture of repulsiveness not easily described. Silently and
+sullenly he contemplates the object before him for several minutes, then
+says:</p>
+
+<p>"Dogs take me, Mister Jailer! but he's what I calls run to the dogs.
+That's what whisky's did for him."</p>
+
+<p>"And what it will do for you one of these days," interrupts the jailer,
+admonishingly. "Up for disturbing the peace at Madame Flamingo's.
+Committed by Justice Snivel."</p>
+
+<p>"Throwing stones by way of repentance, eh? Tom was, at one time, as good
+a customer as that house had. A man's welcome at that house when he's up
+in the world. He's sure a gittin' kicked out when he is down."</p>
+
+<p>"He's here, and we must get him to a cell," says the jailer, setting his
+key down and preparing to lift the man on his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Look a here, Tom Swiggs,&mdash;in here again, eh?" resumes the man in the
+red shirt. "Looks as if you liked the institution. Nice son of a
+respectable mother, you is!" He stoops down and shakes the prostrate man
+violently.</p>
+
+<p>The man opens his eyes, and casts a wild glance on the group of wan
+faces peering eagerly at him. "I am bad enough. You are no better than
+me," he whispers. "You are always here."</p>
+
+<p>"Not always. I am a nine months' guest. In for cribbing voters. Let out
+when election day comes round, and paid well for my services. Sent up
+when election is over, and friends get few. No moral harm in cribbing
+voters. You wouldn't be worth cribbing, eh, Tom? There ain't no
+politician what do'nt take off his hat, and say&mdash;'Glad to see you,
+Mister Mingle,' just afore election." The man folds his arms and walks
+sullenly down the corridor, leaving the newcomer to his own reflections.
+There is a movement among the group looking on; and a man in the garb of
+a sailor advances, presses his way through, and seizing the prostrate by
+the hand, shakes it warmly and kindly. "Sorry to see you in here agin,
+Tom," he says, his bronzed face lighting up with the fires of a generous
+heart. "There's no man in this jail shall say a word agin Tom Swiggs. We
+have sailed shipmates in this old craft afore."</p>
+
+<p>The man was a sailor, and the prisoner's called him Spunyarn, by way of
+shortness. Indeed, he had became so familiarized to the name, that he
+would answer to none other. His friendship for the inebriate was of the
+most sincere kind. He would watch over him, and nurse him into sobriety,
+with the care and tenderness of a brother. "Tom was good to me, when he
+had it;" he says, with an air of sympathy. "And here goes for lendin' a
+hand to a shipmate in distress." He takes one arm and the jailer the
+other, and together they support the inebriate to his cell. "Set me down
+for a steady boarder, and have done with it," the forlorn man mutters,
+as they lay him gently upon the hard cot. "Down for steady board,
+jailer&mdash;that's it."</p>
+
+<p>"Steady, steady now," rejoins the old sailor, as the inebriate tosses
+his arms over his head. "You see, there's a heavy ground swell on just
+now, and a chap what don't mind his helm is sure to get his spars
+shivered." He addresses the the jailer, who stands looking with an air
+of commiseration on the prostrate man. "Take in head-sail&mdash;furl
+top-gallant-sails&mdash;reef topsails&mdash;haul aft main-sheet&mdash;put her helm
+hard down&mdash;bring her to the wind, and there let her lay until it comes
+clear weather." The man writhes and turns his body uneasily. "There,
+there," continues the old sailor, soothingly; "steady, steady,&mdash;keep her
+away a little, then let her luff into a sound sleep. Old Spunyarn's the
+boy what'll stand watch." A few minutes more and the man is in a deep,
+sound sleep, the old sailor keeping watch over him so kindly, so like a
+true friend.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>THE HOUSE OF A VERY DISTINGUISHED LADY.</p>
+
+
+<p>The mansion of Madame Flamingo stands stately in Berresford street. An
+air of mystery hangs over it by day, and it is there young Charleston
+holds high carnival at night. It is a very distinguished house, and
+Madame Flamingo assures us she is a very distinguished lady, who means
+to make her peace with heaven before she dies, and bestow largely on the
+priests, who have promised to make her comfortable while on the road
+through purgatory. The house is in high favor with young Charleston, and
+old Charleston looks in now and then. Our city fathers have great
+sympathy for it, and protect it with their presence. Verily it is a
+great gate on the road to ruin, and thousands pass heedlessly through
+its decorated walks, quickly reaching the dark end.</p>
+
+<p>It is evening, and thin fleecy clouds flit along the heavens. The gas
+sheds a pale light over the streets, and shadowy figures pass and repass
+us as we turn into the narrow street leading to the house of the old
+hostess. We have reached the great arched door, and stand in the shadow
+of a gas-light, playing over its trap, its network of iron, and its
+bright, silver plate. We pause and contemplate the massive walls, as the
+thought flashes upon us&mdash;How mighty is vice, that it has got such a
+mansion dedicated to its uses! Even stranger thoughts than these flit
+through the mind as we hesitate, and touch the bell timidly. Now, we
+have excited your curiosity, and shall not turn until we have shown you
+what there is within.</p>
+
+<p>We hear the bell faintly tinkle&mdash;now voices in loud conversation break
+upon the ear&mdash;then all is silent. Our anxiety increases, and keeps
+increasing, until a heavy footstep is heard advancing up the hall. Now
+there is a whispering within&mdash;then a spring clicks, and a small square
+panel opens and is filled with a broad fat face, with deep blue eyes and
+a profusion of small brown curls, all framed in a frosty cap-border. It
+is the old hostess, done up in her best book muslin, and so well
+preserved.</p>
+
+<p>"Gentlemen, or ain't ye gentlemen?" inquires the old hostess, in a low
+voice. "This is a respectable house, I'd have you remember. Gentlemen
+what ain't gentlemen don't git no show in this house&mdash;no they don't."
+She looks curiously at us, and pauses for a reply. The display of a kid
+glove and a few assuring words gain us admittance into the great hall,
+where a scene of barbaric splendor excites curious emotions. "There
+ain't nothin' but gentlemen gets into this house&mdash;they don't! and when
+they are in they behaves like gentlemen," says the hostess, bowing
+gracefully, and closing the door after us.</p>
+
+<p>The time prints of sixty summers have furrowed the old hostess' brow,
+and yet she seems not more than forty&mdash;is short of figure, and weighs
+two hundred. Soft Persian carpets cover the floor, lounges, in carved
+walnut and satin, stand along the sides; marble busts on pedestals, and
+full-length figures of statesmen and warriors are interspersed at short
+intervals; and the ceiling is frescoed in uncouth and fierce-looking
+figures. Flowers hang from niches in the cornice; a marble group,
+representing St. George and the dragon, stands at the foot of a broad
+circular stairs; tall mirrors reflect and magnify each object, and over
+all the gas from three chandeliers sheds a bewitching light. Such is the
+gaudy scene that excites the fancy, but leaves our admiration unmoved.</p>
+
+<p>"This is a castle, and a commonwealth, gentlemen. Cost me a deal of
+money; might get ruined if gentlemen forgot how to conduct themselves.
+Ladies like me don't get much credit for the good they do. Gentlemen
+will be introduced into the parlor when they are ready," says the old
+hostess, stepping briskly round us, and watching our every movement; we
+are new-comers, and her gaudy tabernacle is novel to us.</p>
+
+<p>"Have educated a dozen young men to the law, and made gentlemen of a
+dozen more, excellent young men&mdash;fit for any society. Don't square my
+accounts with the world, as the world squares its account with me," she
+continues, with that air which vice affects while pleading its own
+cause. She cannot shield the war of conscience that is waging in her
+heart; but, unlike most of those engaged in her unnatural trade, there
+is nothing in her face to indicate a heart naturally inclined to evil.
+It is indeed bright with smiles, and you see only the picture of a being
+sailing calmly down the smooth sea of peace and contentment. Her dress
+is of black glossy satin, a cape of fine point lace covers her broad
+shoulders, and bright blue cap-ribbons stream down her back.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen," says the old hostess&mdash;"there's a full house to-night. Both
+parlors are full. All people of good society!" she continues,
+patronizingly. "Them what likes dancin' dances in the left-hand parlor.
+Them what prefers to sit and converse, converses in the right-hand
+parlor. Some converses about religion, some converses about
+politics&mdash;(by way of lettin' you know my position, I may say that I go
+for secession, out and out)&mdash;some converses about law, some converses
+about beauty. There isn't a lady in this house as can't converse on
+anything." Madame places her ear to the door, and thrusts her fat
+jewelled fingers under her embroidered apron.</p>
+
+<p>"This is my best parlor, gentlemen," she resumes; "only gentlemen of
+deportment are admitted&mdash;I might add, them what takes wine, and, if they
+does get a little in liquor, never loses their dignity." Madame bows,
+and the door of her best parlor swings open, discovering a scene of
+still greater splendor.</p>
+
+<p>"Gentlemen as can't enjoy themselves in my house, don't know how to
+enjoy anything. Them is all gentlemen you see, and them is all ladies
+you see," says the hostess, as we advance timidly into the room, the air
+of which is sickly of perfumes. The foot falls upon the softest of
+carpets; quaint shadows, from stained-glass windows are flitting and
+dancing on the frescoed ceiling; curtains of finest brocade, enveloped
+in lace, fall cloud-like down the windows. The borderings are of
+amber-colored satin, and heavy cornices, over which eagles in gilt are
+perched, surmount the whole. Pictures no artist need be ashamed of
+decorate the walls, groups in bronze and Parian, stand on pedestals
+between the windows, and there is a regal air about the furniture, which
+is of the most elaborate workmanship. But the living figures moving to
+and fro, some in uncouth dresses and some scarce dressed at all, and all
+reflected in the great mirrors, excite the deepest interest. Truly it is
+here that vice has arrayed itself in fascinating splendors, and the
+young and the old have met to pay it tribute. The reckless youth meets
+the man high in power here. The grave exchange salutations with the gay.
+Here the merchant too often meets his clerk, and the father his son.
+And before this promiscuous throng women in bright but scanty drapery,
+and wan faces, flaunt their charms.</p>
+
+<p>Sitting on a sofa, is the fair young girl we saw at the cemetery. By her
+side is a man of venerable presence, endeavoring to engage her in
+conversation. Her face is shadowed in a pensive smile;&mdash;she listens to
+what falls from the lips of her companion, shakes her head negatively,
+and watches the movements of a slender, fair-haired young man, who
+saunters alone on the opposite side of the room. He has a deep interest
+in the fair girl, and at every turn casts a look of hate and scorn at
+her companion, who is no less a person than Judge Sleepyhorn, of this
+history.</p>
+
+<p>"Hain't no better wine nowhere, than's got in this house," ejaculates
+the old hostess, calling our attention to a massive side-board, covered
+with cut-glass of various kinds. "A gentleman what's a gentleman may get
+a little tipsy, providin' he do it on wine as is kept in this house, and
+carry himself square." Madame motions patronizingly with her hand, bows
+condescendingly, and says, "Two bottles I think you ordered,
+gentlemen&mdash;what gentlemen generally call for."</p>
+
+<p>Having bowed assent, and glad to get off so cheaply, Manfredo, a slave
+in bright livery, is directed to bring it in.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel enters, to the great delight of the old hostess and various
+friends of the house. "Mr. Snivel is the spirit of this house," resumes
+the old hostess, by way of introduction; "a gentleman of distinction in
+the law." She turns to Mr. Snivel inquiringly. "You sent that ruffin,
+Tom Swiggs, up for me to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Lord bless you, yes&mdash;gave him two months for contemplation. Get well
+starved at fifteen cents a day&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry for the fellow," interrupts the old hostess, sympathizingly.
+"That's what comes a drinkin' bad liquor. Tom used to be a first-rate
+friend of this house&mdash;spent heaps of money, and we all liked him so.
+Tried hard to make a man of Tom. Couldn't do it." Madame shakes her head
+in sadness. "Devil got into him, somehow. Ran down, as young men will
+when they gets in the way. I does my part to save them, God knows." A
+tear almost steals into Madame's eyes. "When Tom used to come here,
+looking so down, I'd give him a few dollars, and get him to go somewhere
+else. Had to keep up the dignity of the house, you know. A man as takes
+his liquor as Tom does ain't fit company for my house."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel says: "As good advice, which I am bound to give his mother, I
+shall say she'd better give him steady lodgings in jail." He turns and
+recognizes his friend, the judge, and advances towards him. As he does
+so, Anna rises quickly to her feet, and with a look of contempt,
+addressing the judge, says, "Never, never. You deceived me once, you
+never shall again. You ask me to separate myself from him. No, never,
+never." And as she turns to walk away the judge seizes her by the hand,
+and retains her. "You must not go yet," he says.</p>
+
+<p>"She shall go!" exclaims the fair young man, who has been watching their
+movements. "Do you know me? I am the George Mulholland you are plotting
+to send to the whipping-post,&mdash;to accomplish your vile purposes. No,
+sir, I am not the man you took me for, as I would show you were it not
+for your grey hairs." He releases her from the judge's grasp, and stands
+menacing that high old functionary with his finger. "I care not for your
+power. Take this girl from me, and you pay the penalty with your life.
+We are equals here. Release poor Langdon from prison, and go pay
+penance over the grave of his poor wife. It's the least you can do. You
+ruined her&mdash;you can't deny it." Concluding, he clasps the girl in his
+arms, to the surprise of all present, and rushes with her out of the
+house.</p>
+
+<p>The house of Madame Flamingo is in a very distinguished state of
+commotion. Men sensitive of their reputations, and fearing the presence
+of the police, have mysteriously disappeared. Madame is in a fainting
+condition, and several of her heroic damsels have gone screaming out of
+the parlor, and have not been seen since.</p>
+
+<p>Matters have quieted down now. Mr. Snivel consoles the judge for the
+loss of dignity he has suffered, Madame did not quite faint, and there
+is peace in the house.</p>
+
+<p>Manfredo, his countenance sullen, brings in the wine. Manfredo is in bad
+temper to-night. He uncorks the bottles and lets the wine foam over the
+table, the sight of which sends Madame into a state of distress.</p>
+
+<p>"This is all I gets for putting such good livery on you!" she says,
+pushing him aside with great force. "That's thirty-nine for you in the
+morning, well-laid on. You may prepare for it. Might have known better
+(Madame modifies her voice) than buy a nigger of a clergyman!" She
+commences filling the glasses herself, again addressing Manfredo, the
+slave: "Don't do no good to indulge you. This is the way you pay me for
+lettin' you go to church of a Sunday. Can't give a nigger religion
+without his gettin' a big devil in him at the same time."</p>
+
+<p>Manfredo passes the wine to her guests, in sullen silence, and they
+drink to the prosperity of the house.</p>
+
+<p>And now it is past midnight; the music in the next parlor has ceased,
+St. Michael's clock has struck the hour of one, and business is at an
+end in the house of the old hostess. A few languid-looking guests still
+remain, the old hostess is weary with the fatigues of the night, and
+even the gas seems to burn dimmer. The judge and Mr. Snivel are the last
+to take their departure, and bid the hostess good-night. "I could not
+call the fellow out," says the judge, as they wend their way into King
+street. "I can only effect my purpose by getting him into my power. To
+do that you must give me your assistance."</p>
+
+<p>"Remain silent on that point," returns the other. "You have only to
+leave its management to me. Nothing is easier than to get such a fellow
+into the power of the law."</p>
+
+<p>On turning into King street they encounter a small, youthful looking
+man, hatless and coatless, his figure clearly defined in the shadows of
+the gas-light, engaged in a desperate combat with the lamp-post. "Now,
+Sir, defend yourself, and do it like a man, for you have the reputation
+of being a craven coward," says the man, cutting and thrusting furiously
+at the lamp-post; Snivel and Sleepyhorn pause, and look on astonished.
+"Truly the poor man's mad," says Sleepyhorn, touching his companion on
+the arm&mdash;"uncommonly mad for the season."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel whispers, "Not so mad. Only courageously tight." "Gentlemen!"
+says the man, reproachfully, "I am neither mad nor drunk." Here he
+strikes an attitude of defence, cutting one, two, and three with his
+small sword. "I am Mister Midshipman Button&mdash;no madman, not a bit of it.
+As brave a man as South Carolina ever sent into the world. A man of
+pluck, Sir, and genuine, at that." Again he turns and makes several
+thrusts at the lamp-post, demanding that it surrender and get down on
+its knees, in abject obedience to superior prowess.</p>
+
+<p>"Button, Button, my dear fellow, is it you? What strange freak is this?"
+inquires Mr. Snivel, extending his hand, which the little energetic man
+refuses to take.</p>
+
+<p>"Mister Midshipman Button, if you please, gentlemen," replies the man,
+with an air of offended dignity. "I'm a gentleman, a man of honor, and
+what's more, a Carolinian bred and born, or born and bred&mdash;cut it as you
+like it." He makes several powerful blows at the lamp-post, and succeeds
+only in breaking his sword.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor man," says the judge, kindly, "he is in need of friends to take
+care of him, and advise him properly. He has not far to travel before he
+gets into the mad-house."</p>
+
+<p>The man overhears his remarks, and with a vehement gesture and flourish
+of his broken sword, says, "Do you not see, gentlemen, what work I have
+made of this Northern aggressor, this huge enemy bringing oppression to
+our very doors?" He turns and addresses the lamp-post in a tone of
+superiority. "Surrender like a man, and confess yourself vanquished,
+Northern aggressor that you are! You see, gentlemen, I have gained a
+victory&mdash;let all his bowels out. Honor all belongs to my native state&mdash;I
+shall resign it all to her." Here the man begins to talk in so wild a
+strain, and to make so many demands of his imaginary enemy, that they
+called a passing guardsman, who, seeing his strange condition, replaced
+his hat, and assisted them in getting him to a place of safety for the
+night, when sleep and time would restore him to a sound state of mind.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>IN WHICH THE READER IS PRESENTED WITH A VARIED PICTURE.</p>
+
+
+<p>Tom has passed a restless night in jail. He has dreamed of bottled
+snakes, with eyes wickedly glaring at him; of fiery-tailed serpents
+coiling all over him; of devils in shapes he has no language to
+describe; of the waltz of death, in which he danced at the mansion of
+Madame Flamingo; and of his mother, (a name ever dear in his thoughts,)
+who banished him to this region of vice, for what she esteemed a moral
+infirmity. Further on in his dream he saw a vision, a horrible vision,
+which was no less than a dispute for his person between Madame Flamingo,
+a bishop, and the devil. But Madame Flamingo and the devil, who seemed
+to enjoy each other's company exceedingly, got the better of the bishop,
+who was scrupulous of his dignity, and not a little anxious about being
+seen in such society. And from the horrors of this dream he wakes,
+surprised to find himself watched over by a kind friend&mdash;a young,
+comely-featured man, in whom he recognizes the earnest theologian, as he
+is plumed by the prisoners, whom he daily visits in his mission of good.
+There was something so frank and gentle in this young man's
+demeanor&mdash;something so manly and radiant in his countenance&mdash;something
+so disinterested and holy in his mission of love&mdash;something so opposite
+to the coldness of the great world without&mdash;something so serene and
+elevated in his youth, that even the most inveterate criminal awaited
+his coming with emotions of joy, and gave a ready ear to his kindly
+advice. Indeed, the prisoners called him their child; and he seemed not
+dainty of their approach, but took them each by the hand, sat at their
+side, addressed them as should one brother address another;&mdash;yea, he
+made them to feel that what was their interest it was his joy to
+promote.</p>
+
+<p>The young theologian took him a seat close by the side of the dreaming
+inebriate; and as he woke convulsively, and turned towards him his
+distorted face, viewing with wild stare each object that met his sight,
+the young man met his recognition with a smile and a warm grasp of the
+hand. "I am sorry you find me here again&mdash;yes, I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Better men, perhaps, have been here&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I am ashamed of it, though; it isn't as it should be, you see,"
+interrupts Tom.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind&mdash;(the young man checks himself)&mdash;I was going to say there is
+a chance for you yet; and there is a chance; and you must struggle; and
+I will help you to struggle; and your friends&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Tom interrupts by saying, "I've no friends."</p>
+
+<p>"I will help you to struggle, and to overcome the destroyer. Never think
+you are friendless, for then you are a certain victim in the hands of
+the ruthless enemy&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well," pauses Tom, casting a half-suspicious look at the young
+man, "I forgot. There's you, and him they call old Spunyarn, are
+friends, after all. You'll excuse me, but I didn't think of that;" and a
+feeling of satisfaction seemed to have come over him. "How grateful to
+have friends when a body's in a place of this kind," he mutters
+incoherently, as the tears gush from his distended eyes, and childlike
+he grasps the hand of the young man.</p>
+
+<p>"Be comforted with the knowledge that you have friends, Tom. One
+all-important thing is wanted, and you are a man again."</p>
+
+<p>"As to that!" interrupts Tom, doubtingly, and laying his begrimed hand
+on his burning forehead, while he alternately frets and frisks his
+fingers through his matted hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Have no doubts, Tom&mdash;doubts are dangerous."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, say what it is, and I'll try what I can do. But you won't think
+I'm so bad as I seem, and'll forgive me? I know what you think of me,
+and that's what mortifies me; you think I'm an overdone specimen of our
+chivalry&mdash;you do!"</p>
+
+<p>"You must banish from your mind these despairing thoughts," replies the
+young man, laying his right hand approvingly on Tom's head. "First,
+Tom," he pursues, "be to yourself a friend; second, forget the error of
+your mother, and forgive her sending you here; and third, cut the house
+of Madame Flamingo, in which our chivalry are sure to get a shattering.
+To be honest in temptation, Tom, is one of the noblest attributes of our
+nature; and to be capable of forming and maintaining a resolution to
+shake off the thraldom of vice, and to place oneself in the serener
+atmosphere of good society, is equally worthy of the highest
+commendation."</p>
+
+<p>Tom received this in silence, and seemed hesitating between what he
+conceived an imperative demand and the natural inclination of his
+passions.</p>
+
+<p>
+"Give me your hand, and with it your honor&mdash;I know you yet retain
+the latent spark&mdash;and promise me you will lock up the<br /> cup&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>"You'll give a body a furlough, by the way of blowing off the fuddle he
+has on hand?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not withhold from you any discretionary indulgence that may bring
+relief&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Tom interrupts by saying, "My mother, you know!"</p>
+
+<p>"I will see her, and plead with her on your behalf; and if she have a
+mother's feelings I can overcome her prejudice."</p>
+
+<p>Tom says, despondingly, he has no home to go to. It's no use seeing his
+mother; she's all dignity, and won't let it up an inch. "If I could only
+persuade her&mdash;" Tom pauses here and shakes his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Pledge me your honor you'll from this day form a resolution to reform,
+Tom; and if I do not draw from your mother a reconciliation, I will seek
+a home for you elsewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there can't be much harm in an effort, at all events; and here's
+my hand, in sincerity. But it won't do to shut down until I get over
+this bit of a fog I'm now in." With childlike simplicity, Tom gives his
+hand to the young man, who, as old Spunyarn enters the cell to, as he
+says, get the latitude of his friend's nerves, departs in search of Mrs.
+Swiggs.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Swiggs is the stately old member of a crispy old family, that, like
+numerous other families in the State, seem to have outlived two
+chivalrous generations, fed upon aristocracy, and are dying out
+contemplating their own greatness. Indeed, the Swiggs family, while it
+lived and enjoyed the glory of its name, was very like the Barnwell
+family of this day, who, one by one, die off with the very pardonable
+and very harmless belief that the world never can get along without the
+aid of South Carolina, it being the parthenon from which the outside
+world gets all its greatness. Her leading and very warlike newspapers,
+(the people of these United States ought to know, if they do not
+already,) it was true, were editorialized, as it was politely called in
+the little State-militant, by a species of unreputationized Jew and
+Yankee; but this you should know&mdash;if you do not already, gentle
+reader&mdash;that it is only because such employments are regarded by the
+lofty-minded chivalry as of too vulgar a nature to claim a place in
+their attention.</p>
+
+<p>The clock of old Saint Michaels, a clock so tenacious of its dignity as
+to go only when it pleases, and so aristocratic in its habits as not to
+go at all in rainy weather;&mdash;a clock held in great esteem by the "very
+first families," has just struck eleven. The young, pale-faced
+missionary inquiringly hesitates before a small, two-story building of
+wood, located on the upper side of Church street, and so crabbed in
+appearance that you might, without endangering your reputation, have
+sworn it had incorporated in its framework a portion of that chronic
+disease for which the State has gained for itself an unenviable
+reputation. Jutting out of the black, moss-vegetating roof, is an
+old-maidish looking window, with a dowdy white curtain spitefully tucked
+up at the side. The mischievous young negroes have pecked half the
+bricks out of the foundation, and with them made curious grottoes on the
+pavement. Disordered and unpainted clapboards spread over the dingy
+front, which is set off with two upper and two lower windows, all
+blockaded with infirm, green shutters. Then there is a snuffy door,
+high and narrow (like the State's notions), and reached by six venerable
+steps and a stoop, carefully guarded with a pine hand-rail, fashionably
+painted in blue, and looking as dainty as the State's white glove. This,
+reader, is the abode of the testy but extremely dignified Mrs. Swiggs.
+If you would know how much dignity can be crowded into the smallest
+space, you have only to look in here and be told (she closely patterns
+after the State in all things!) that fifty-five summers of her crispy
+life have been spent here, reading Milton's Paradise Lost and
+contemplating the greatness of her departed family.</p>
+
+<p>The old steps creak and complain as the young man ascends them, holding
+nervously on at the blue hand-rail, and reaching in due time the stoop,
+the strength of which he successively tests with his right foot, and
+stands contemplating the snuffy door. A knocker painted in villanous
+green&mdash;a lion-headed knocker, of grave deportment, looking as savage as
+lion can well do in this chivalrous atmosphere, looks admonitiously at
+him. "Well!" he sighs as he raises it, "there's no knowing what sort of
+a reception I may get." He has raised the monster's head and given three
+gentle taps. Suddenly a frisking and whispering, shutting of doors and
+tripping of feet, is heard within; and after a lapse of several minutes
+the door swings carefully open, and the dilapidated figure of an old
+negro woman, lean, shrunken, and black as Egyptian darkness&mdash;with
+serious face and hanging lip, the picture of piety and starvation,
+gruffly asks who he is and what he wants?</p>
+
+<p>Having requested an interview with her mistress, this decrepit specimen
+of human infirmity half closes the door against him and doddles back. A
+slight whispering, and Mrs. Swiggs is heard to say&mdash;"show him into the
+best parlor." And into the best parlor, and into the august presence of
+Mrs. Swiggs is he ushered. The best parlor is a little, dingy room, low
+of ceiling, and skirted with a sombre-colored surbase, above which is
+papering, the original color of which it would be difficult to discover.
+A listen carpet, much faded and patched, spreads over the floor, the
+walls are hung with several small engravings, much valued for their age
+and associations, but so crooked as to give one the idea of the house
+having withstood a storm at sea; and the furniture is made up of a few
+venerable mahogany chairs, a small side-table, on which stands, much
+disordered, several well-worn books and papers, two patch-covered
+foot-stools, a straight-backed rocking-chair, in which the august woman
+rocks her straighter self, and a great tin cage, from between the bars
+of which an intelligent parrot chatters&mdash;"my lady, my lady, my lady!"
+There is a cavernous air about the place, which gives out a sickly odor,
+exciting the suggestion that it might at some time have served as a
+receptacle for those second-hand coffins the State buries its poor in.</p>
+
+<p>"Well! who are you? And what do you want? You have brought letters, I
+s'pose?" a sharp, squeaking voice, speaks rapidly.</p>
+
+<p>The young man, without waiting for an invitation to sit down, takes
+nervously a seat at the side-table, saying he has come on a mission of
+love.</p>
+
+<p>"Love! love! eh? Young man&mdash;know that you have got into the wrong
+house!" Mrs. Swiggs shakes her head, squeaking out with great animation.</p>
+
+<p>There she sits, Milton's "Paradise Lost" in her witch-like fingers,
+herself lean enough for the leanest of witches, and seeming to have
+either shrunk away from the faded black silk dress in which she is clad,
+or passed through half a century of starvation merely to bolster up her
+dignity. A sharp, hatchet-face, sallow and corrugated; two wicked gray
+eyes, set deep in bony sockets; a long, irregular nose, midway of which
+is adjusted a pair of broad, brass-framed spectacles; a sunken,
+purse-drawn mouth, with two discolored teeth protruding from her upper
+lip; a high, narrow forehead, resembling somewhat crumpled parchment; a
+dash of dry, brown hair relieving the ponderous border of her
+steeple-crowned cap, which she seems to have thrown on her head in a
+hurry; a moth-eaten, red shawl thrown spitefully over her shoulders,
+disclosing a sinewy and sassafras-colored neck above, and the small end
+of a gold chain in front, and, reader, you have the august Mrs. Swiggs,
+looking as if she diets on chivalry and sour krout. She is indeed a nice
+embodiment of several of those qualities which the State clings
+tenaciously to, and calls its own, for she lives on the labor of eleven
+aged negroes, five of whom are cripples.</p>
+
+<p>The young man smiles, as Mrs. Swiggs increases the velocity of her
+rocking, lays her right hand on the table, rests her left on her Milton,
+and continues to reiterate that he has got into the wrong house.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no letter, Madam&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I never receive people without letters&mdash;never!" again she interrupts,
+testily.</p>
+
+<p>"But you see, Madam&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No I don't. I don't see anything about it!" again she interposes,
+adjusting her spectacles, and scanning him anxiously from head to foot.
+"Ah, yes (she twitches her head), I see what you are&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I was going to say, if you please, Madam, that my mission may serve as
+a passport&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm of a good family, you must know, young man. You could have learned
+that of anybody before seeking this sort of an introduction. Any of our
+first families could have told you about me. You must go your way, young
+man!" And she twitches her head, and pulls closer about her lean
+shoulders the old red shawl.</p>
+
+<p>"I (if you will permit me, Madam) am not ignorant of the very high
+standing of your famous family&mdash;" Madam interposes by saying, every
+muscle of her frigid face unmoved the while, she is glad he knows
+something, "having read of them in a celebrated work by one of our more
+celebrated genealogists&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But you should have brought a letter from the Bishop! and upon that
+based your claims to a favorable reception. Then you have read of Sir
+Sunderland Swiggs, my ancestor? Ah! he was such a Baron, and owned such
+estates in the days of Elizabeth. But you should have brought a letter,
+young man." Mrs. Swiggs replies rapidly, alternately raising and
+lowering her squeaking voice, twitching her head, and grasping tighter
+her Milton.</p>
+
+<p>"Those are his arms and crest." She points with her Milton to a singular
+hieroglyphic, in a wiry black frame, resting on the marble-painted
+mantelpiece. "He was very distinguished in his time; and such an
+excellent Christian." She shakes her head and wipes the tears from her
+spectacles, as her face, which had before seemed carved in wormwood,
+slightly relaxes the hardness of its muscles.</p>
+
+<p>"I remember having seen favorable mention of Sir Sunderland's name in
+the book I refer to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>She again interposes. The young man watches her emotions with a
+penetrating eye, conscious that he has touched a chord in which all the
+milk of kindness is not dried up.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a true copy of the family arms. Everybody has got to having arms
+now-a-days. (She points to the indescribable scrawl over the
+mantelpiece.) It was got through Herald King, of London, who they say
+keeps her Majesty's slippers and the great seal of State. We were very
+exact, you see. Yes, sir&mdash;we were very exact. Our vulgar people, you
+see&mdash;I mean such as have got up by trade, and that sort of thing&mdash;went
+to a vast expense in sending to England a man of great learning and much
+aforethought, to ransack heraldry court and trace out their families.
+Well, he went, lived very expensively, spent several years abroad, and
+being very clever in his way, returned, bringing them all pedigrees of
+the very best kind. With only two exceptions, he traced them all down
+into noble blood. These two, the cunning fellow had it, came of martyrs.
+And to have come of the blood of martyrs, when all the others, as was
+shown, came of noble blood, so displeased&mdash;the most ingenious (the old
+lady shakes her head regrettingly) can't please everybody&mdash;the living
+members of these families, that they refused to pay the poor man for his
+researches, so he was forced to resort to a suit at law. And to this day
+(I don't say it disparagingly of them!) both families stubbornly refuse
+to accept the pedigree. They are both rich grocers, you see! and on this
+account we were very particular about ours."</p>
+
+<p>The young man thought it well not to interrupt the old woman's display
+of weakness, inasmuch as it might produce a favorable change in her
+feelings.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, young man, what mission have you besides love?" she inquires,
+adding an encouraging look through her spectacles.</p>
+
+<p>"I am come to intercede&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't talk of interceding with me; no you needn't! I've nothing
+to intercede about"&mdash;she twitches her head spitefully.</p>
+
+<p>"In behalf of your son."</p>
+
+<p>"There&mdash;there! I knew there was some mischief. You're a Catholic! I knew
+it. Never saw one of your black-coated flock about that there wasn't
+mischief brewing&mdash;never! I can't read my Milton in peace for you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But your son is in prison, Madam, among criminals, and subject to the
+influence of their habits&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely where I put him&mdash;where he won't disgrace the family; yes,
+where he ought to be, and where he shall rot, for all me. Now, go your
+way, young man; and read your Bible at home, and keep out of prisons;
+and don't be trying to make Jesuits of hardened scamps like that Tom of
+mine."</p>
+
+<p>"I am a Christian: I would like to extend a Christian's hand to your
+son. I may replace him on the holy pedestal he has fallen from&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You are very aggravating, young man. Do you live in South Carolina?"</p>
+
+<p>The young man says he does. He is proud of the State that can boast so
+many excellent families.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad of that," she says, looking querulously over her spectacles,
+as she twitches her chin, and increases the velocity of her rocking. "I
+wonder how folks can live out of it."</p>
+
+<p>"As to that, Madam, permit me to say, I am happy to see and appreciate
+your patriotism; but if you will grant me an order of release&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I won't hear a word now! You're very aggravating, young man&mdash;very! He
+has disgraced the family; I have put him where he is seven times; he
+shall rot were he is! He never shall disgrace the family again. Think of
+Sir Sunderland Swiggs, and then think of him, and see what a pretty
+level the family has come to! That's the place for him, I have told him
+a dozen times how I wished him gone. The quicker he is out of the way,
+the better for the name of the family."</p>
+
+<p>The young man waits the end of this colloquy with a smile on his
+countenance. "I have no doubt I can work your son's reform&mdash;perhaps make
+him an honor to the family&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He honor the family!" she interrupts, twitches the shawl about her
+shoulders, and permits herself to get into a state of general
+excitement. "I should like to see one who has disgraced the family as
+much as he has think of honoring it&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Through kindness and forbearance, Madam, a great deal may be done," the
+young man replies.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, you are very provoking, young man&mdash;very. Let other people alone;
+go your way home, and study your Bible." And with this the old lady
+calls Rebecca, the decrepit slave who opened the door, and directs her
+to show the young man out. "There now!" she says testily, turning to the
+marked page of her Milton.</p>
+
+<p>The young man contemplates her for a few moments, but, having no
+alternative, leaves reluctantly.</p>
+
+<p>On reaching the stoop he encounters the tall, handsome figure of a man,
+whose face is radiant with smiles, and his features ornamented with
+neatly-combed Saxon hair and beard, and who taps the old negress under
+the chin playfully, as she says, "Missus will be right glad to see you,
+Mr. Snivel&mdash;that she will." And he bustles his way laughing into the
+presence of the old lady, as if he had news of great importance for
+her.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER IV.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>A FEW REFLECTIONS ON THE CURE OF VICE.</p>
+
+
+<p>Disappointed, and not a little chagrined, at the failure of his mission,
+the young man muses over the next best course to pursue. He has the
+inebriate's welfare at heart; he knows there is no state of degradation
+so low that the victim cannot, under proper care, be reclaimed from it;
+and he feels duty calling loudly to him not to stand trembling on the
+brink, but to enter the abode of the victim, and struggle to make clean
+the polluted. Vice, he says to himself, is not entailed in the heart;
+and if you would modify and correct the feelings inclined to evil, you
+must first feed the body, then stimulate the ambition; and when you have
+got the ambition right, seek a knowledge of the heart, and apply to it
+those mild and judicious remedies which soften its action, and give life
+to new thoughts and a higher state of existence. Once create the vine of
+moral rectitude, and its branches will soon get where they can take care
+of themselves. But to give the vine creation in poor soil, your watching
+must exhibit forbearance, and your care a delicate hand. The
+stubbornly-inclined nature, when coupled with ignorance, is that in
+which vice takes deepest root, as it is, when educated, that against
+which vice is least effectual. To think of changing the natural
+inclination of such natures with punishment, or harsh correctives, is as
+useless as would be an attempt to stop the ebbing and flowing of the
+tide. You must nurture the feelings, he thought, create a
+susceptibility, get the heart right, by holding out the value of a
+better state of things, and make the head to feel that you are sincere
+in your work of love; and, above all, you must not forget the stomach,
+for if that go empty crime will surely creep into the head. You cannot
+correct moral infirmity by confining the victim of it among criminals,
+for no greater punishment can be inflicted on the feelings of man; and
+punishment destroys rather than encourages the latent susceptibility of
+our better nature. In nine cases out of ten, improper punishment makes
+the hardened criminals with which your prisons are filled, destroying
+forever that spark of ambition which might have been fostered into a
+means to higher ends.</p>
+
+<p>And as the young man thus muses, there recurs to his mind the picture of
+old Absalom McArthur, a curious old man, but excessively kind, and
+always ready to do "a bit of a good turn for one in need," as he would
+say when a needy friend sought his assistance. McArthur is a dealer in
+curiosities, is a venerable curiosity himself, and has always something
+on hand to meet the wants of a community much given to antiquity and
+broken reputations.</p>
+
+<p>The young theologian will seek this good old man. He feels that time
+will work a favorable revolution in the feelings of Tom's mother; and to
+be prepared for that happy event he will plead a shelter for him under
+McArthur's roof.</p>
+
+<p>And now, generous reader, we will, with your permission, permit him to
+go on his errand of mercy, while we go back and see how Tom prospers at
+the old prison. You, we well know, have not much love of prisons. But
+unless we do now and then enter them, our conceptions of how much misery
+man can inflict upon man will be small indeed.</p>
+
+<p>The man of sailor-like deportment, and whom the prisoners salute with
+the sobriquet of "Old Spunyarn," entered, you will please remember, the
+cell, as the young theologian left in search of Mrs. Swiggs, "I thought
+I'd just haul my tacks aboard, run up a bit, and see what sort of
+weather you were making, Tom," says he, touching clumsily his
+small-brimmed, plait hat, as he recognizes the young man, whom he
+salutes in that style so frank and characteristic of the craft. "He's a
+bit better, sir&mdash;isn't he?" inquires Spunyarn, his broad, honest face,
+well browned and whiskered, warming with a glow of satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>Receiving an answer in the affirmative, he replies he is right glad of
+it, not liking to see a shipmate in a drift. And he gives his quid a
+lurch aside, throws his hat carelessly upon the floor, shrugs his
+shoulders, and as he styles it, nimbly brings himself to a mooring, at
+Tom's side. "It's a hard comforter, this state. I don't begrudge your
+mother the satisfaction she gets of sending you here. In her eyes, ye
+see, yeer fit only to make fees out on, for them ar lawyer chaps. They'd
+keep puttin' a body in an' out here during his natural life, just for
+the sake of gettin', the fees. They don't care for such things as you
+and I. We hain't no rights; and if we had, why we hain't no power. This
+carry in' too much head sail, Tom, won't do&mdash;'twon't!" Spunyarn shakes
+his head reprovingly, fusses over Tom, turns him over on his wales, as
+he has it, and finally gets him on his beam's ends, a besotted wreck
+unable to carry his canvas. "Lost yeer reckoning eh, Tom?" he continues
+as that bewildered individual stares vacantly at him. The inebriate
+contorts painfully his face, presses and presses his hands to his
+burning forehead, and says they are firing a salute in his head, using
+his brains for ammunition.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now Tom, seein' as how I'm a friend of yourn&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Friend of mine?" interrupts Tom, shaking his head, and peering through
+his fingers mistrustfully.</p>
+
+<p>"And this is a hard lee shore you've beached upon; I'll lend ye a hand
+to get in the head sail, and get the craft trimmed up a little. A dash
+of the same brine will help keep the ballast right, then a skysail-yard
+breakfast must be carefully stowed away, in order to give a firmness to
+the timbers, and on the strength of these two blocks for shoring up the
+hull, you must begin little by little, and keep on brightening up until
+you have got the craft all right again. And when you have got her right
+you must keep her right. I say, Tom!&mdash;it won't do. You must reef down,
+or the devil'll seize the helm in one of these blows, and run you into a
+port too warm for pea-jackets." For a moment, Spunyarn seems half
+inclined to grasp Tom by his collarless coat and shake the hydrophobia,
+as he calls it, out of him; then, as if incited by a second thought, he
+draws from his shirt-bosom a large, wooden comb, and humming a tune
+commences combing and fussing over Tom's hair, which stands erect over
+his head like marlinspikes. At length he gets a craft-like set upon his
+foretop, and turning his head first to the right, then to the left, as a
+child does a doll, he views him with an air of exultation. "I tell you
+what it is, Tom," he continues, relieving him of the old coat, "the
+bright begins to come! There's three points of weather made already."</p>
+
+<p>"God bless you, Spunyarn," replies Tom, evidently touched by the
+frankness and generosity of the old sailor. Indeed there was something
+so whole-hearted about old Spunyarn, that he was held in universal
+esteem by every one in jail, with the single exception of Milman Mingle,
+the vote-cribber.</p>
+
+<p>"Just think of yourself, Tom&mdash;don't mind me," pursues the sailor as Tom
+squeezes firmly his hand. "You've had a hard enough time of it&mdash;" Tom
+interrupts by saying, as he lays his hands upon his sides, he is sore
+from head to foot.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't wonder," returns the sailor. "It's a great State, this South
+Carolina. It seems swarming with poor and powerless folks. Everybody has
+power to put everybody in jail, where the State gives a body two
+dog's-hair and rope-yarn blankets to lay upon, and grants the sheriff,
+Mr. Hardscrable, full license to starve us, and put the thirty cents a
+day it provides for our living into his breeches pockets. Say what you
+will about it, old fellow, it's a brief way of doing a little profit in
+the business of starvation. I don't say this with any ill-will to the
+State that regards its powerless and destitute with such criminal
+contempt&mdash;I don't." And he brings water, gets Tom upon his feet, forces
+him into a clean shirt, and regards him in the light of a child whose
+reformation he is determined on perfecting. He sees that in the fallen
+man which implies a hope of ultimate usefulness, notwithstanding the
+sullen silence, the gloomy frown on his knitted brow, and the general
+air of despair that pervades the external man.</p>
+
+<p>"There!" he exclaims, having improved the personal of the inebriate, and
+folding his arms as he steps back apace to have a better view of his
+pupil&mdash;"now, don't think of being triced up in this dreary vault. Be
+cheerful, brace up your resolution&mdash;never let the devil think you know
+he is trying to put the last seal on your fate&mdash;never!" Having slipped
+the black kerchief from his own neck, he secures it about Tom's, adjusts
+the shark's bone at the throat, and mounts the braid hat upon his head
+with a hearty blow on the crown. "Look at yourself! They'd mistake you
+for a captain of the foretop," he pursues, and good-naturedly he lays
+his broad, browned hands upon Tom's shoulders, and forces him up to a
+triangular bit of glass secured with three tacks to the wall.</p>
+
+<p>Tom's hands wander down his sides as he contemplates himself in the
+glass, saying: "I look a shade up, I reckon! And I feel&mdash;I have to thank
+you for it, Spunyarn&mdash;something different all over me. God bless you! I
+won't forget you. But I'm hungry; that's all that ails me now.</p>
+
+<p>"I may thank my mother&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Thank yourself, Tom," interposes the sailor.</p>
+
+<p>"For all this. She has driven me to this; yes, she has made my soul dead
+with despair!" And he bursts into a wild, fierce laugh. A moment's
+pause, and he says, in a subdued voice, "I'm a slave, a fool, a wanderer
+in search of his own distress."</p>
+
+<p>The kind-hearted sailor seats his pupil upon a board bench, and proceeds
+down stairs, where, with the bribe of a glass of whiskey, he induces the
+negro cook to prepare for Tom a bowl of coffee and a biscuit. In truth,
+we must confess, that Spunyarn was so exceedingly liberal of his
+friendship that he would at times appropriate to himself the personal
+effects of his neighbors. But we must do him justice by saying that this
+was only when a friend in need claimed his attention. And this generous
+propensity he the more frequently exercised upon the effects&mdash;whiskey,
+cold ham, crackers and cheese&mdash;of the vote-cribber, whom he regards as a
+sort of cold-hearted land-lubber, whose political friends outside were
+not what they should be. If the vote-cribber's aristocratic friends (and
+South Carolina politicians were much given to dignity and bad whiskey)
+sent him luxuries that tantalized the appetites of poverty-oppressed
+debtors, and poor prisoners starving on a pound of bread a-day, Spunyarn
+held this a legitimate plea for holding in utter contempt the right to
+such gifts. And what was more singular of this man was, that he always
+knew the latitude and longitude of the vote-cribber's bottle, and what
+amount of water was necessary to keep up the gauge he had reduced in
+supplying his flask.</p>
+
+<p>And now that Tom's almost hopeless condition presents a warrantable
+excuse, (the vote-cribber has this moment passed into the cell to take a
+cursory glance at Tom,) Spunyarn slips nimbly into the vote-cribber's
+cell, withdraws a brick from the old chimney, and seizing the black neck
+of a blacker bottle, drags it forth, holds it in the shadow of the
+doorway, squints exultingly at the contents, shrugs his stalwart
+shoulders, and empties a third of the liquid, which he replaces with
+water from a bucket near by, into his tin-topped flask. This done, he
+ingeniously replaces the bottle, slides the flask suspiciously into his
+bosom, saying, "It'll taste just as strong to a vote-cribber," and seeks
+that greasy potentate, the prison cook. This dignitary has always laid
+something aside for Spunyarn; he knows Spunyarn has something laid aside
+for him, which makes the condition mutual.</p>
+
+<p>"A new loafer let loose on the world!" says the vote-cribber, entering
+the domain of the inebriate with a look of fierce scorn. "The State is
+pestered to death with such things as you. What do they send you here
+for?&mdash;disturbing the quiet and respectability of the prison! You're only
+fit to enrich the bone-yard&mdash;hardly that; perhaps only for lawyers to
+get fees of. The State'll starve you, old Hardscrabble'll make a few
+dollars out of your feed&mdash;but what of that? We don't want you here."
+There was something so sullen and mysterious in the coarse features of
+this stalwart man&mdash;something so revolting in his profession, though it
+was esteemed necessary to the elevation of men seeking political
+popularity&mdash;something so at variance with common sense in the punishment
+meted out to him who followed it, as to create a deep interest in his
+history, notwithstanding his coldness towards the inebriate. And yet you
+sought in vain for one congenial or redeeming trait in the character of
+this man.</p>
+
+<p>"I always find you here; you're a fixture, I take it&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The vote-cribber interrupts the inebriate&mdash;"Better have said a patriot!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well," returns the inebriate, "a patriot then; have it as you like it.
+I'm not over-sensitive of the distinction." The fallen man drops his
+head into his hands, stabbed with remorse, while the vote-cribber folds
+his brawny arms leisurely, paces to and fro before him, and scans him
+with his keen, gray eyes, after the manner of one mutely contemplating
+an imprisoned animal.</p>
+
+<p>"You need not give yourself so much concern about me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I was only thinking over in my head what a good subject to crib, a week
+or two before fall election, you'd be. You've a vote?"</p>
+
+<p>Tom good-naturedly says he has. He always throws it for the "old
+Charleston" party, being sure of a release, as are some dozen caged
+birds, just before election.</p>
+
+<p>"I have declared eternal hatred against that party; never pays its
+cribbers!" Mingle scornfully retorts; and having lighted his pipe,
+continues his pacing. "As for this jail," he mutters to himself, "I've
+no great respect for it; but there is a wide difference between a man
+who they put in here for sinning against himself, and one who only
+violates a law of the State, passed in opposition to popular opinion.
+However, you seem brightened up a few pegs, and, only let whiskey alone,
+you may be something yet. Keep up an acquaintance with the pump, and be
+civil to respectable prisoners, that's all."</p>
+
+<p>This admonition of the vote-cribber had a deeper effect on the feelings
+of the inebriate than was indicated by his outward manner. He had
+committed no crime, and yet he found himself among criminals of every
+kind; and what was worse, they affected to look down upon him. Had he
+reached a state of degradation so low that even the felon loathed his
+presence? Was he an outcast, stripped of every means of reform&mdash;of
+making himself a man? Oh no! The knife of the destroyer had plunged
+deep&mdash;disappointment had tortured his brain&mdash;he was drawn deeper into
+the pool of misery by the fatal fascinations of the house of Madame
+Flamingo, where, shunned by society, he had sought relief&mdash;but there was
+yet one spark of pride lingering in his heart. That spark the
+vote-cribber had touched; and with that spark Tom resolved to kindle for
+himself a new existence. He had pledged his honor to the young
+theologian; he would not violate it.</p>
+
+<p>The old sailor, with elated feelings, and bearing in his hands a bowl of
+coffee and two slices of toasted bread, is accosted by several
+suspicious-looking prisoners, who have assembled in the corridor for the
+purpose of scenting fresh air, with sundry questions concerning the
+state of his pupil's health.</p>
+
+<p>"He has had a rough night," the sailor answers, "but is now a bit calm.
+In truth, he only wants a bit of good steering to get him into smooth
+weather again." Thus satisfying the inquirers, he hurries up stairs as
+the vote-cribber hurries down, and setting his offering on the
+window-sill, draws from his bosom the concealed flask. "There, Tom!" he
+says, with childlike satisfaction, holding the flask before him&mdash;"only
+two pulls. To-morrow reef down to one; and the day after swear a
+dissolution of copartnership, for this chap (he points to the whiskey)
+is too mighty for you."</p>
+
+<p>Tom hesitates, as if questioning the quality of the drug he is about to
+administer.</p>
+
+<p>"Only two!" interrupts the sailor. "It will reduce the ground-swell a
+bit." The outcast places the flask to his lips, and having drank with
+contorted face passes it back with a sigh, and extends his right hand.
+"My honor is nothing to the world, Spunyarn, but it is yet something to
+me; and by it I swear (here he grasps tighter the hand of the old
+sailor, as a tear moistens his suffused cheeks) never to touch the
+poison again. It has grappled me like a fierce animal I could not shake
+off; it has made me the scoffed of felons&mdash;I will cease to be its
+victim; and having gained the victory, be hereafter a friend to myself."</p>
+
+<p>"God bless you&mdash;may you never want a friend, Tom&mdash;and may He give you
+strength to keep the resolution. That's my wish." And the old sailor
+shook Tom's hand fervently, in pledge of his sincerity.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER V.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>IN WHICH MR. SNIVEL, COMMONLY CALLED THE ACCOMMODATION MAN, IS
+INTRODUCED, AND WHAT TAKES PLACE BETWEEN HIM AND MRS. SWIGGS.</p>
+
+
+<p>Reader! have you ever witnessed how cleverly one of our mob-politicians
+can, through the all-soothing medium of a mint-julep, transpose himself
+from a mass of passion and bad English into a child of perfect
+equanimity? If not, perhaps you have witnessed in our halls of Congress
+the sudden transition through which some of our Carolina members pass
+from a state of stupidity to a state of pugnacity? (We refer only to
+those members who do their own "stumping," and as a natural consequence,
+get into Congress through abuse of the North, bad whiskey, and a
+profusion of promises to dissolve the Union.) And if you have, you may
+form some idea of the suddenness with which Lady Swiggs, as she delights
+in having her friends call her, transposes herself from the incarnation
+of a viper into a creature of gentleness, on hearing announced the name
+of Mr. Soloman Snivel.</p>
+
+<p>"What!&mdash;my old friend! I wish I had words to say how glad I am to see
+you, Lady Swiggs!" exclaims a tall, well-proportioned and
+handsome-limbed man, to whose figure a fashionable claret-colored frock
+coat, white vest, neatly-fitting dark-brown trowsers, highly-polished
+boots, a cluster of diamonds set in an avalanche of corded shirt-bosom,
+and carelessly-tied green cravat, lend a respectability better imagined
+than described. A certain reckless dash about him, not common to a
+refined gentleman, forces us to set him down as one of those individuals
+who hold an uncertain position in society; and though they may now and
+then mingle with men of refinement, have their more legitimate sphere in
+a fashionable world of doubtful character.</p>
+
+<p>"Why!&mdash;Mr. Snivel. Is it you?" responds the old woman, reciprocating his
+warm shake of the hand, and getting her hard face into a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I am so glad&mdash;But (Mr. Snivel interrupts himself) never mind that!"</p>
+
+<p>"You have some important news?" hastily inquires Mrs. Swiggs, laying a
+bit of muslin carefully between the pages of her Milton, and returning
+it to the table, saying she has just been grievously provoked by one of
+that black-coated flock who go about the city in search of lambs. They
+always remind her of light-houses pointing the road to the dominions of
+the gentleman in black.</p>
+
+<p>"Something very important!" parenthesises Soloman&mdash;"very." And he shakes
+his head, touches her significantly on the arm with his orange-colored
+glove,&mdash;he smiles insidiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray be seated, Mr. Snivel. Rebecca!&mdash;bring Mr. Snivel the
+rocking-chair."</p>
+
+<p>"You see, my good Madam, there's such a rumor about town this morning!
+(Soloman again taps her on the arm with his glove.) The cat has got out
+of the bag&mdash;it's all up with the St. Cecilia!&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Do, Rebecca, make haste with the rocking-chair!" eagerly interrupts
+the old woman, addressing herself to the negress, who fusses her way
+into the room with a great old-fashioned rocking-chair. "I am so
+sensitive of the character of that society," she continues with a sigh,
+and wipes and rubs her spectacles, gets up and views herself in the
+glass, frills over her cap border, and becomes very generally anxious.
+Mrs. Swiggs is herself again. She nervously adjusts the venerable red
+shawl about her shoulders, draws the newly-introduced arm-chair near her
+own, ("I'm not so old, but am getting a little deaf," she says), and
+begs her visitor will be seated.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Soloman, having paced twice or thrice up and down the little room,
+contemplating himself in the glass at each turn, now touching his
+neatly-trimmed Saxon mustache and whiskers, then frisking his fingers
+through his candy-colored hair, brings his dignity into the chair.</p>
+
+<p>"I said it was all up with the St. Cecilia&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!" interrupts Mrs. Swiggs, her eyes glistening like balls of fire,
+her lower jaw falling with the weight of anxiety, and fretting rapidly
+her bony hands.</p>
+
+<p>Soloman suddenly pauses, says that was a glorious bottle of old Madeira
+with which he enjoyed her hospitality on his last visit. The flavor of
+it is yet fresh in his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you&mdash;thank you! Mr. Soloman. I've a few more left. But pray lose
+no time in disclosing to me what hath befallen the St. Cecilia."</p>
+
+<p>"Well then&mdash;but what I say must be in confidence. (The old woman says it
+never shall get beyond her lips&mdash;never!) An Englishman of goodly looks,
+fashion, and money&mdash;and, what is more in favor with our first families,
+a Sir attached to his name, being of handsome person and accomplished
+manners, and travelling and living after the manner of a nobleman, (some
+of our first families are simple enough to identify a Baronet with
+nobility!) was foully set upon by the fairest and most marriageable
+belles of the St. Cecilia. If he had possessed a dozen hearts, he could
+have had good markets for them all. There was such a getting up of
+attentions! Our fashionable mothers did their very best in arraying the
+many accomplishments of their consignable daughters, setting forth in
+the most foreign but not over-refined phraseology, their extensive
+travels abroad&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!" interrupts Mrs. Swiggs, nervously&mdash;"I know how they do it. It's a
+pardonable weakness." And she reaches out her hand and takes to her lap
+her inseparable Milton.</p>
+
+<p>"And the many marked attentions&mdash;offers, in fact&mdash;they have received at
+the hands of Counts and Earls, with names so unpronounceable that they
+have outlived memory&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps I have them in my book of autographs!" interrupts the credulous
+old woman, making an effort to rise and proceed to an antique side-board
+covered with grotesque-looking papers.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Soloman urbanely touches her on the arm&mdash;begs she will keep her
+seat. The names only apply to things of the past. He proceeds,
+"Well&mdash;being a dashing fellow, as I have said&mdash;he played his game
+charmingly. Now he flirted with this one, and then with that one, and
+finally with the whole society, not excepting the very flirtable married
+ladies;&mdash;that is, I mean those whose husbands were simple enough to let
+him. Mothers were in a great flutter generally, and not a day passed but
+there was a dispute as to which of their daughters he would link his
+fortunes with and raise to that state so desirable in the eyes of our
+very republican first families&mdash;the State-Militant of nobility&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I think none the worse of 'em for that," says the old woman, twitching
+her wizard-like head in confirmation of her assertion. "My word for it,
+Mr. Soloman, to get up in the world, and to be above the common herd, is
+the grand ambition of our people; and our State has got the grand
+position it now holds before the world through the influence of this
+ambition."</p>
+
+<p>"True!&mdash;you are right there, my dear friend. You may remember, I have
+always said you had the penetration of a statesman, (Mrs. Swiggs makes a
+curt bow, as a great gray cat springs into her lap and curls himself
+down on her Milton;) and, as I was going on to say of this dashing
+Baronet, he played our damsels about in agony, as an old sportsman does
+a covey of ducks, wounding more in the head than in the heart, and
+finally creating no end of a demand for matrimony. To-day, all the town
+was positive, he would marry the beautiful Miss Boggs; to-morrow it was
+not so certain that he would not marry the brilliant and
+all-accomplished Miss Noggs; and the next day he was certain of marrying
+the talented and very wealthy heiress, Miss Robbs. Mrs. Stepfast, highly
+esteemed in fashionable society, and the very best gossip-monger in the
+city, had confidentially spread it all over the neighborhood that Mr.
+Stepfast told her the young Baronet told him (and he verily believed he
+was head and ears in love with her!) Miss Robbs was the most lovely
+creature he had seen since he left Belgravia. And then he went into a
+perfect rhapsody of excitement while praising the poetry of her motion,
+the grace with which she performed the smallest offices of the
+drawing-room, her queenly figure, her round, alabaster arms, her smooth,
+tapering hands, (so chastely set off with two small diamonds, and so
+unlike the butchers' wives of this day, who bedazzle themselves all the
+day long with cheap jewelry,)&mdash;the beautiful swell of her marble bust,
+the sweet smile ever playing over her thoughtful face, the regularity of
+her Grecian features, and those great, languishing eyes, constantly
+flashing with the light of irresistible love. Quoth ye! according to
+what Mr. Stepfast told Mrs. Stepfast, the young Baronet would, with the
+ideal of a real poet, as was he, have gone on recounting her charms
+until sundown, had not Mr. Stepfast invited him to a quiet family
+dinner. And to confirm what Mr. Stepfast said, Miss Robbs had been seen
+by Mrs. Windspin looking in at Mrs. Stebbins', the fashionable
+dress-maker, while the young Baronet had twice been at Spears', in King
+Street, to select a diamond necklace of great value, which he left
+subject to the taste of Miss Robbs. And putting them two and them two
+together there was something in it!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am truly glad it's nothing worse. There has been so much scandal got
+up by vulgar people against our St. Cecilia."</p>
+
+<p>"Worse, Madam?" interpolates our hero, ere she has time to conclude her
+sentence, "the worst is to come yet."</p>
+
+<p>"And I'm a member of the society!" Mrs. Swiggs replies with a
+languishing sigh, mistaking the head of the cat for her Milton, and
+apologizing for her error as that venerable animal, having got well
+squeezed, sputters and springs from her grasp, shaking his head,
+"elected solely on the respectability of my family."</p>
+
+<p>Rather a collapsed member, by the way, Mr. Soloman thinks, contemplating
+her facetiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Kindly proceed&mdash;proceed," she says, twitching at her cap strings, as if
+impatient to get the sequel.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as to that, being a member of the St. Cecilia myself, you see,
+and always&mdash;(I go in for a man keeping up in the world)&mdash;maintaining a
+high position among its most distinguished members, who, I assure you,
+respect me far above my real merits, (Mrs. Swiggs says we won't say
+anything about that now!) and honor me with all its secrets, I may, even
+in your presence, be permitted to say, that I never heard a member who
+didn't speak in high praise of you and the family of which you are so
+excellent a representative."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you&mdash;thank you. O thank you, Mr. Soloman!" she rejoins.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Madam, I feel all my veneration getting into my head at once when
+I refer to the name of Sir Sunderland Swiggs."</p>
+
+<p>"But pray what came of the young Baronet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!&mdash;as to him, why, you see, he was what we call&mdash;it isn't a polite
+word, I confess&mdash;a humbug."</p>
+
+<p>"A Baronet a humbug!" she exclaims, fretting her hands and commencing to
+rock herself in the chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as to that, as I was going on to say, after he had beat the bush
+all around among the young birds, leaving several of them wounded on the
+ground&mdash;you understand this sort of thing&mdash;he took to the older ones,
+and set them polishing up their feathers. And having set several very
+respectable families by the ears, and created a terrible flutter among a
+number of married dames&mdash;he was an adept in this sort of diplomacy, you
+see&mdash;it was discovered that one very distinguished Mrs. Constance,
+leader of fashion to the St. Cecilia, (and on that account on no very
+good terms with the vulgar world, that was forever getting up scandal to
+hurl at the society that would not permit it to soil, with its common
+muslin, the fragrant atmosphere of its satin and tulle), had been
+carrying on a villanous intrigue&mdash;yes, Madam! villanous intrigue! I said
+discovered: the fact was, this gallant Baronet, with one servant and no
+establishment, was feted and fooled for a month, until he came to the
+very natural and sensible conclusion, that we were all snobbs&mdash;yes,
+snobbs of the very worst kind. But there was no one who fawned over and
+flattered the vanity of this vain man more than the husband of Mrs.
+Constance. This poor man idolized his wife, whom he regarded as the very
+diamond light of purity, nor ever mistrusted that the Baronet's
+attentions were bestowed with any other than the best of motives.
+Indeed, he held it extremely condescending on the part of the Baronet to
+thus honor the family with his presence.</p>
+
+<p>"And the Baronet, you see, with that folly so characteristic of
+Baronets, was so flushed with his success in this little intrigue with
+Madame Constance&mdash;the affair was too good for him to keep!&mdash;that he went
+all over town showing her letters. Such nice letters as they were&mdash;brim
+full of repentance, love, and appointments. The Baronet read them to Mr.
+Barrows, laughing mischievously, and saying what a fool the woman must
+be. Mr. Barrows couldn't keep it from Mrs. Barrows, Mrs. Barrows let the
+cat out of the bag to Mrs. Simpson, and Mrs. Simpson would let Mr.
+Simpson have no peace till he got on the soft side of the Baronet, and,
+what was not a difficult matter, got two of the letters for her to have
+a peep into. Mrs. Simpson having feasted her eyes on the two Mr. Simpson
+got of the Baronet, and being exceedingly fond of such wares as they
+contained, must needs&mdash;albeit, in strict confidence&mdash;whisper it to Mrs.
+Fountain, who was a very fashionable lady, but unfortunately had a head
+very like a fountain, with the exception that it ejected out double the
+amount it took in. Mrs. Fountain&mdash;as anybody might have known&mdash;let it
+get all over town. And then the vulgar herd took it up, as if it were
+assaf&oelig;tida, only needing a little stirring up, and hurled it back at
+the St. Cecilia, the character of which it would damage without a pang
+of remorse.</p>
+
+<p>"Then the thing got to Constance's ears; and getting into a terrible
+passion, poor Constance swore nothing would satisfy him but the
+Baronet's life. But the Baronet&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"A sorry Baronet was he&mdash;not a bit like my dear ancestor, Sir
+Sunderland," Mrs. Swiggs interposes.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit, Madam," bows our hero. "Like a sensible gentleman, as I was
+about to say, finding it getting too hot for him, packed up his alls,
+and in the company of his unpaid servant, left for parts westward of
+this. I had a suspicion the fellow was not what he should be; and I made
+it known to my select friends of the St. Cecilia, who generally
+pooh-poohed me. A nobleman, they said, should receive every attention.
+And to show that he wasn't what he should be, when he got to Augusta his
+servant sued him for his wages; and having nothing but his chivalry,
+which the servant very sensibly declined to accept for payment, he came
+out like a man, and declared himself nothing but a poor player.</p>
+
+<p>"But this neither satisfied Constance nor stayed the drifting current of
+slander&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! I am so glad it was no worse," Mrs. Swiggs interrupts again.</p>
+
+<p>"True!" Mr. Soloman responds, laughing heartily, as he taps her on the
+arm. "It might have been worse, though. Well, I am, as you know, always
+ready to do a bit of a good turn for a friend in need, and pitying poor
+Constance as I did, I suggested a committee of four most respectable
+gentlemen, and myself, to investigate the matter. The thing struck
+Constance favorably, you see. So we got ourselves together, agreed to
+consider ourselves a Congress, talked over the affairs of the nation,
+carried a vote to dissolve the Union, drank sundry bottles of Champagne,
+(I longed for a taste of your old Madeira, Mrs. Swiggs,) and brought in
+a verdict that pleased Mrs. Constance wonderfully&mdash;and so it ought. We
+were, after the most careful examination, satisfied that the reports
+prejudicial to the character and standing of Mrs. Constance had no
+foundation in truth, being the base fabrications of evil-minded persons,
+who sought, while injuring an innocent lady, to damage the reputation of
+the St. Cecilia Society. Mr. Constance was highly pleased with the
+finding; and finally it proved the sovereign balm that healed all their
+wounds. Of course, the Knight, having departed, was spared his blood."</p>
+
+<p>Here Mr. Soloman makes a pause. Mrs. Swiggs, with a sigh, says, "Is that
+all?"</p>
+
+<p>"Quite enough for once, my good Madam," Mr. Soloman bows in return.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! I am so glad the St. Cecilia is yet spared to us. You said, you
+know, it was all up with it&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Up? up?&mdash;so it is! That is, it won't break it up, you know. Why&mdash;oh, I
+see where the mistake is&mdash;it isn't all over, you know, seeing how the
+society can live through a score of nine-months scandals. But the
+thing's in every vulgar fellow's lips&mdash;that is the worst of it."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Swiggs relishes this bit of gossip as if it were a dainty morsel;
+and calling Rebecca, she commands her to forthwith proceed into the
+cellar and bring a bottle of the old Madeira&mdash;she has only five
+left&mdash;for Mr. Soloman. And to Mr. Soloman's great delight, the old
+negress hastily obeys the summons; brings forth a mass of cobweb and
+dust, from which a venerable black bottle is disinterred, uncorked, and
+presented to the guest, who drinks the health of Mrs. Swiggs in sundry
+well-filled glasses, which he declares choice, adding, that it always
+reminds him of the age and dignity of the family. Like the State,
+dignity is Mrs. Swiggs' weakness&mdash;her besetting sin. Mr. Soloman, having
+found the key to this vain woman's generosity, turns it when it suits
+his own convenience.</p>
+
+<p>"By-the-bye," he suddenly exclaims, "you've got Tom locked up again."</p>
+
+<p>"As safe as he ever was, I warrant ye!" Mrs. Swiggs replies, resuming
+her Milton and rocking-chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Upon my faith I agree with you. Never let him get out, for he is sure
+to disgrace the family when he does&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I've said he shall rot there, and he shall rot! He never shall get out
+to disgrace the family&mdash;no, not if I live to be as gray as Methuselah, I
+warrant you!" And Mr. Soloman, having made his compliments to the sixth
+glass, draws from his breast pocket a legal-looking paper, which he
+passes to Mrs. Swiggs, as she ejaculates, "Oh! I am glad you thought of
+that."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Soloman, watching intently the changes of her face, says, "You will
+observe, Madam, I have mentioned the cripples. There are five of them.
+We are good friends, you see; and it is always better to be precise in
+those things. It preserves friendship. This is merely a bit of a good
+turn I do for you." Mr. Soloman bows, makes an approving motion with his
+hands, and lays at her disposal on the table, a small roll of bills.
+"You will find two hundred dollars there," he adds, modulating his
+voice. "You will find it all right; I got it for you of Keepum. We do a
+little in that way; he is very exact, you see&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Honor is the best security between people of our standing," she
+rejoins, taking up a pen and signing the instrument, which her guest
+deposits snugly in his pocket, and takes his departure for the house of
+Madame Flamingo.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER VI.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>CONTAINING SUNDRY MATTERS APPERTAINING TO THIS HISTORY.</p>
+
+
+<p>If, generous reader, you had lived in Charleston, we would take it for
+granted that you need no further enlightening on any of our very select
+societies, especially the St. Cecilia; but you may not have enjoyed a
+residence so distinguished, rendering unnecessary a few explanatory
+remarks. You must know that we not only esteem ourselves the
+quintessence of refinement, as we have an undisputed right to do, but
+regard the world outside as exceedingly stupid in not knowing as much of
+us as we profess to know of ourselves. Abroad, we wonder we are not at
+once recognized as Carolinians; at home, we let the vulgar world know
+who we are. Indeed, we regard the outside world&mdash;of these States we
+mean&mdash;very much in that light which the Greeks of old were wont to view
+the Romans in. Did we but stop here, the weakness might be pardonable.
+But we lay claim to Grecian refinement of manners, while pluming all our
+mob-politicians Roman orators. There is a profanity about this we
+confess not to like; not that danger can befall it, but because it hath
+about it that which reminds us of the oyster found in the shell of gold.
+Condescending, then, to believe there exists outside of our State a few
+persons silly enough to read books, we will take it for granted, reader,
+that you are one of them, straightway proceeding with you to the St.
+Cecilia.</p>
+
+<p>You have been a fashionable traveller in Europe? You say&mdash;yes! rummaged
+all the feudal castles of England, sought out the resting places of her
+kings, heard some one say "that is poet's corner," as we passed into
+Westminster Abbey, thought they couldn't be much to have such a
+corner,&mdash;"went to look" where Byron was buried, moistened the marble
+with a tear ere we were conscious of it, and saw open to us the gulf of
+death as we contemplated how greedy graveyard worms were banqueting on
+his greatness. A world of strange fancies came over us as we mused on
+England's poets. And we dined with several Dukes and a great many more
+Earls, declining no end of invitations of commoners. Very well! we
+reply, adding a sigh. And on your return to your home, that you may not
+be behind the fashion, you compare disparagingly everything that meets
+your eye. Nothing comes up to what you saw in Europe. A servant doesn't
+know how to be a servant here; and were we to see the opera at Covent
+Garden, we would be sure to stare our eyes out. It is become habitual to
+introduce your conversation with, "when I was in Europe." And you know
+you never write a letter that you don't in some way bring in the
+distinguished persons you met abroad. There is something (no matter what
+it is) that forcibly reminds you of what occurred at the table of my
+Lady Clarendon, with whom you twice had the pleasure and rare honor of
+dining. And by implication, you always give us a sort of lavender-water
+description of the very excellent persons you met there, and what they
+were kind enough to say of America, and how they complimented you, and
+made you the centre and all-absorbing object of attraction&mdash;in a word, a
+truly wonderful person. And you will not fail, now that it is become
+fashionable, to extol with fulsome breath the greatness of every
+European despot it hath been your good fortune to get a bow from. And
+you are just vain enough to forever keep this before your up-country
+cousins. You say, too, that you have looked in at Almacks. Almacks!
+alas! departed greatness. With the rise of the Casino hath it lain its
+aristocratic head in the dust.</p>
+
+<p>Well!&mdash;the St. Cecilia you must know (its counterparts are to be found
+in all our great cities) is a miniature Almacks&mdash;a sort of leach-cloth,
+through which certain very respectable individuals must pass ere they
+can become the elite of our fashionable world. To become a member of the
+St. Cecilia&mdash;to enjoy its recherch&eacute; assemblies&mdash;to luxuriate in the
+delicate perfumes of its votaries, is the besetting sin of a great many
+otherwise very sensible people. And to avenge their disappointment at
+not being admitted to its precious precincts, they are sure to be found
+in the front rank of scandal-mongers when anything in their line is up
+with a member. And it is seldom something is not up, for the society
+would seem to live and get lusty in an atmosphere of perpetual scandal.
+Any amount of duels have come of it; it hath made rich no end of
+milliners; it hath made bankrupt husbands by the dozen; it hath been the
+theatre of several distinguished romances; it hath witnessed the first
+throbbings of sundry hearts, since made happy in wedlock; it hath been
+the <i>shibolath</i> of sins that shall be nameless here. The reigning belles
+are all members (provided they belong to our first families) of the St.
+Cecilia, as is also the prettiest and most popular unmarried parson. And
+the parson being excellent material for scandal, Mother Rumor is sure to
+have a dash at him. Nor does this very busy old lady seem over-delicate
+about which of the belles she associates with the parson, so long as the
+scandal be fashionable enough to afford her a good traffic.</p>
+
+<p>There is continually coming along some unknown but very distinguished
+foreigner, whom the society adopts as its own, flutters over, and
+smothers with attentions, and drops only when it is discovered he is an
+escaped convict. This, in deference to the reputation of the St.
+Cecilia, we acknowledge has only happened twice. It has been said with
+much truth that the St. Cecilia's worst sin, like the sins of its sister
+societies of New York, is a passion for smothering with the satin and
+Honiton of its assemblies a certain supercilious species of snobby
+Englishmen, who come over here, as they have it (gun and fishing-rod in
+hand), merely to get right into the woods where they can have plenty of
+bear-hunting, confidently believing New York a forest inhabited by such
+animals. As for our squaws, as Mr. Tom Toddleworth would say, (we shall
+speak more at length of Tom!) why! they have no very bad opinion of
+them, seeing that they belong to a race of semi-barbarians, whose
+sayings they delight to note down. Having no society at home, this
+species of gentry the more readily find themselves in high favor with
+ours. They are always Oxonians, as the sons of green grocers and
+fishmongers are sure to be when they come over here (so Mr. Toddleworth
+has it, and he is good authority), and we being an exceedingly
+impressible people, they kindly condescend to instruct us in all the
+high arts, now and then correcting our very bad English. They are clever
+fellows generally, being sure to get on the kind side of credulous
+mothers with very impressible-headed daughters.</p>
+
+<p>There was, however, always a distinguished member of the St. Cecilia
+society who let out all that took place at its assemblies. The vulgar
+always knew what General danced with the lovely Miss A., and how they
+looked, and what they said to each other; how many jewels Miss A. wore,
+and the material her dress was made of; they knew who polkaed with the
+accomplished Miss B., and how like a duchess she bore herself; they had
+the exact name of the colonel who dashed along so like a knight with the
+graceful and much-admired Mrs. D., whose husband was abroad serving his
+country; what gallant captain of dragoons (captains of infantry were
+looked upon as not what they might be) promenaded so imperiously with
+the vivacious Miss E.; and what distinguished foreigner sat all night in
+the corner holding a suspicious and very improper conversation with Miss
+F., whose skirts never were free of scandal, and who had twice got the
+pretty parson into difficulty with his church. Hence there was a
+perpetual outgoing of scandal on the one side, and pelting of dirt on
+the other.</p>
+
+<p>When Mr. Soloman sought the presence of Mrs. Swiggs and told her it was
+all up with the St. Cecilia, and when that august member of the society
+was so happily disappointed by his concluding with leaving it an
+undamaged reputation, the whole story was not let out. In truth the
+society was at that moment in a state of indignation, and its reputation
+as well-nigh the last stage of disgrace as it were possible to bring it
+without being entirely absorbed. The Baronet, who enjoyed a good joke,
+and was not over-scrupulous in measuring the latitude of our credulity,
+had, it seems, in addition to the little affair with Mrs. Constance,
+been imprudent enough to introduce at one of the assemblies of the St.
+Cecilia, a lady of exceedingly fair but frail import: this loveliest of
+creatures&mdash;this angel of fallen fame&mdash;this jewel, so much sought after
+in her own casket&mdash;this child of gentleness and beauty, before whom a
+dozen gallant knights were paying homage, and claiming her hand for the
+next waltz, turned out to be none other than the Anna Bonard we have
+described at the house of Madame Flamingo. The discovery sent the whole
+assembly into a fainting fit, and caused such a fluttering in the camp
+of fashion. Reader! you may rest assured back-doors and smelling-bottles
+were in great demand.</p>
+
+<p>The Baronet had introduced her as his cousin; just arrived, he said, in
+the care of her father&mdash;the cousin whose beauty he had so often referred
+to. So complete was her toilet and disguise, that none but the most
+intimate associate could have detected the fraud. Do you ask us who was
+the betrayer, reader? We answer,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>One whose highest ambition did seem that of getting her from her
+paramour, George Mullholland. It was Judge Sleepyhorn. Reader! you will
+remember him&mdash;the venerable, snowy-haired man, sitting on the lounge at
+the house of Madame Flamingo, and on whom George Mullholland swore to
+have revenge. The judge of a criminal court, the admonisher of the
+erring, the sentencer of felons, the <i>habitue</i> of the house of Madame
+Flamingo&mdash;no libertine in disguise could be more scrupulous of his
+standing in society, or so sensitive of the opinion held of him by the
+virtuous fair, than was this daylight guardian of public morals.</p>
+
+<p>The Baronet got himself nicely out of the affair, and Mr. Soloman
+Snivel, commonly called Mr. Soloman, the accommodation man, is at the
+house of Madame Flamingo, endeavoring to effect a reconciliation between
+the Judge and George Mullholland.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER VII.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>IN WHICH IS SEEN A COMMINGLING OF CITIZENS.</p>
+
+
+<p>Night has thrown her mantle over the city. There is a great gathering of
+denizens at the house of Madame Flamingo. She has a <i>bal-masque</i>
+to-night. Her door is beset with richly-caparisoned equipages. The town
+is on tip-toe to be there; we reluctantly follow it. An hundred
+gaudily-decorated drinking saloon are filled with gaudier-dressed men.
+In loudest accent rings the question&mdash;"Do you go to Madame Flamingo's
+to-night?" Gentlemen of the genteel world, in shining broadcloth, touch
+glasses and answer&mdash;"yes!" It is a wonderful city&mdash;this of ours. Vice
+knows no restraint, poverty hath no friends here. We bow before the
+shrine of midnight revelry; we bring licentiousness to our homes, but we
+turn a deaf ear to the cries of poverty, and we gloat over the sale of
+men.</p>
+
+<p>The sickly gas-light throws a sicklier glare over the narrow, unpaved
+streets. The city is on a frolic, a thing not uncommon with it. Lithe
+and portly-figured men, bearing dominos in their hands, saunter along
+the sidewalk, now dangling ponderous watch-chains, then flaunting
+highly-perfumed cambrics&mdash;all puffing the fumes of choice cigars. If
+accosted by a grave wayfarer&mdash;they are going to the opera! They are
+dressed in the style of opera-goers. And the road to the opera seems the
+same as that leading to the house of the old hostess. A gaily-equipped
+carriage approaches. We hear the loud, coarse laughing of those it so
+buoyantly bears, then there comes full to view the glare of yellow silks
+and red satins, and doubtful jewels&mdash;worn by denizens from whose faded
+brows the laurel wreath hath fallen. How shrunken with the sorrow of
+their wretched lives, and yet how sportive they seem! The pale gas-light
+throws a spectre-like hue over their paler features; the artificial
+crimson with which they would adorn the withered cheek refuses to lend a
+charm to features wan and ghastly. The very air is sickly with the odor
+of their cosmetics. And with flaunting cambrics they bend over carriage
+sides, salute each and every pedestrian, and receive in return answers
+unsuited to refined ears. They pass into the dim vista, but we see with
+the aid of that flickering gas, the shadow of that polluting hand which
+hastens life into death.</p>
+
+<p>Old Mr. McArthur, who sits smoking his long pipe in the door of his
+crazy-looking curiosity shop, (he has just parted company with the young
+theologian, having assured him he would find a place to stow Tom Swiggs
+in,) wonders where the fashionable world of Charleston can be going? It
+is going to the house of the Flamingo. The St. Cecilia were to have had
+a ball to-night; scandal and the greater attractions here have closed
+its doors.</p>
+
+<p>A long line of carriages files past the door of the old hostess. An
+incessant tripping of feet, delicately encased in bright-colored
+slippers; an ominous fluttering of gaudy silks and satins; an inciting
+glare of borrowed jewelry, mingling with second-hand lace; an
+heterogeneous gleaming of bare, brawny arms, and distended busts, all
+lend a sort of barbaric splendor to that mysterious group floating, as
+it were, into a hall in one blaze of light. A soft carpet, overlain
+with brown linen, is spread from the curbstone into the hall. Two
+well-developed policemen guard the entrance, take tickets of those who
+pass in, and then exchange smiles of recognition with venerable looking
+gentlemen in masks. The hostess, a clever "business man" in her way, has
+made the admission fee one dollar. Having paid the authorities ten
+dollars, and honored every Alderman with a complimentary ticket, who has
+a better right? No one has a nicer regard for the Board of Aldermen than
+Madame Flamingo; no one can reciprocate this regard more condescendingly
+than the honorable Board of Aldermen do. Having got herself arrayed in a
+dress of sky-blue satin, that ever and anon streams, cloud-like, behind
+her, and a lace cap of approved fashion, with pink strings nicely
+bordered in gimp, and a rich Honiton cape, jauntily thrown over her
+shoulders, and secured under the chin with a great cluster of blazing
+diamonds, and rows of unpolished pearls at her wrists, which are
+immersed in crimped ruffles, she doddles up and down the hall in a state
+of general excitement. A corpulent colored man, dressed in the garb of a
+beadle,&mdash;a large staff in his right hand, a cocked hat on his head, and
+broad white stripes down his flowing coat, stands midway between the
+parlor doors. He is fussy enough, and stupid enough, for a Paddington
+beadle. Now Madame Flamingo looks scornfully at him, scolds him, pushes
+him aside; he is only a slave she purchased for the purpose; she
+commands that he gracefully touch his hat (she snatches it from his
+head, and having elevated it over her own, performs the delicate motion
+she would have him imitate) to every visitor. The least neglect of duty
+will incur (she tells him in language he cannot mistake) the penalty of
+thirty-nine well laid on in the morning. In another minute her fat,
+chubby-face glows with smiles, her whole soul seems lighted up with
+childlike enthusiasm; she has a warm welcome for each new comer, retorts
+saliently upon her old friends, and says&mdash;"you know how welcome you all
+are!" Then she curtsies with such becoming grace. "The house, you know,
+gentlemen, is a commonwealth to-night." Ah! she recognizes the tall,
+comely figure of Mr. Soloman, the accommodation man. He did not spring
+from among the bevy of coat-takers, and hood-retainers, at the extreme
+end of the great hall, nor from among the heap of promiscuous garments
+piled in one corner; and yet he is here, looking as if some magic
+process had brought him from a mysterious labyrinth. "Couldn't get along
+without me, you see. It's an ambition with me to befriend everybody. If
+I can do a bit of a good turn for a friend, so much the better!" And he
+grasps the old hostess by the hand with a self-satisfaction he rather
+improves by tapping her encouragingly on the shoulder. "You'll make a
+right good thing of this!&mdash;a clear thousand, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"The fates have so ordained it," smiles naively the old woman.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course the fates could not ordain otherwise&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"As to that, Mr. Soloman, I sometimes think the gods are with me, and
+then again I think they are against me. The witches&mdash;they have done my
+fortune a dozen times or more&mdash;always predict evil (I consult them
+whenever a sad fit comes over me), but witches are not to be depended
+upon! I am sure I think what a fool I am for consulting them at all."
+She espies, for her trade of sin hath made keen her eye, the venerable
+figure of Judge Sleepyhorn advancing up the hall, masked. "Couldn't get
+along without you," she lisps, tripping towards him, and greeting him
+with the familiarity of an intimate friend. "I'm rather aristocratic,
+you'll say!&mdash;and I confess I am, though a democrat in principle!" And
+Madame Flamingo confirms what she says with two very dignified nods. As
+the Judge passes silently in she pats him encouragingly on the back,
+saying,&mdash;"There ain't no one in this house what'll hurt a hair on your
+head." The Judge heeds not what she says.</p>
+
+<p>"My honor for it, Madame, but I think your guests highly favored,
+altogether! Fine weather, and the prospect of a <i>bal-masque</i> of Pompeian
+splendor. The old Judge, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"The gods smile&mdash;the gods smile, Mr. Soloman!" interrupts the hostess,
+bowing and swaying her head in rapid succession.</p>
+
+<p>"The gods have their eye on him to-night&mdash;he's a marked man! A jolly old
+cove of a Judge, he is! Cares no more about rules and precedents, on the
+bench, than he does for the rights and precedents some persons profess
+to have in this house. A high old blade to administer justice, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"But, you see, Mr. Soloman," the hostess interrupts, a gracious bow
+keeping time with the motion of her hand, "he is such an aristocratic
+prop in the character of my house."</p>
+
+<p>"I rather like that, I confess, Madame. You have grown rich off the
+aristocracy. Now, don't get into a state of excitement!" says Mr.
+Soloman, fingering his long Saxon beard, and eyeing her mischievously.
+She sees a bevy of richly-dressed persons advancing up the hall in high
+glee. Indeed her house is rapidly filling to the fourth story. And yet
+they come! she says. "The gods are in for a time. I love to make the
+gods happy."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Soloman has lain his hand upon her arm retentively.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not that the aristocracy and such good persons as the Judge spend
+so much here. But they give <i>eclat</i> to the house, and <i>eclat</i> is money.
+That's it, sir! Gold is the deity of <i>our</i> pantheon! Bless you (the
+hostess evinces the enthusiasm of a politician), what better evidence of
+the reputation of my house than is before you, do you want? I've shut up
+the great Italian opera, with its three squalling prima donnas, which in
+turn has shut up the poor, silly <i>Empresario</i> as they call him; and the
+St. Cecilia I have just used up. I'm a team in my way, you see;&mdash;run all
+these fashionable oppositions right into bankruptcy." Never were words
+spoken with more truth. Want of patronage found all places of rational
+amusement closed. Societies for intellectual improvement, one after
+another, died of poverty. Fashionable lectures had attendance only when
+fashionable lecturers came from the North; and the Northman was sure to
+regard our taste through the standard of what he saw before him.</p>
+
+<p>The house of the hostess triumphs, and is corpulent of wealth and
+splendor. To-morrow she will feed with the rich crumbs that fall from
+her table the starving poor. And although she holds poor virtue in utter
+contempt, feeding the poor she regards a large score on the passport to
+a better world. A great marble stairway winds its way upward at the
+farther end of the hall, and near it are two small balconies, one on
+each side, presenting barricades of millinery surmounted with the
+picturesque faces of some two dozen denizens, who keep up an incessant
+gabbling, interspersed here and there with jeers directed at Mr.
+Soloman. "Who is he seeking to accommodate to-night?" they inquire,
+laughing merrily.</p>
+
+<p>The house is full, the hostess has not space for one friend more; she
+commands the policemen to close doors. An Alderman is the only exception
+to her <i>fiat</i>. "You see," she says, addressing herself to a courtly
+individual who has just saluted her with urbane deportment, "I must
+preserve the <i>otium cum dignitate</i> of my (did I get it right?) standing
+in society. I don't always get these Latin sayings right. Our
+Congressmen don't. And, you see, like them, I ain't a Latin scholar, and
+may be excused for any little slips. Politics and larnin' don't get
+along well together. Speaking of politics, I confess I rather belong to
+the Commander and Quabblebum school&mdash;I do!"</p>
+
+<p>At this moment (a tuning of instruments is heard in the dancing-hall)
+the tall figure of the accommodation man is seen, in company of the
+venerable Judge, passing hurriedly into a room on the right of the
+winding stairs before described. "Judge!" he exclaims, closing the door
+quickly after him, "you will be discovered and exposed. I am not
+surprised at your passion for her, nor the means by which you seek to
+destroy the relations existing between her and George Mullholland. It is
+an evidence of taste in you. But she is proud to a fault, and, this I
+say in friendship, you so wounded her feelings, when you betrayed her to
+the St. Cecilia, that she has sworn to have revenge on you. George
+Mullholland, too, has sworn to have your life.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you what it is, Judge, (the accommodation man assumes the air of
+a bank director,) I have just conceived&mdash;you will admit I have an
+inventive mind!&mdash;a plot that will carry you clean through the whole
+affair. Your ambition is divided between a passion for this charming
+creature and the good opinion of better society. The resolution to
+retain the good opinion of society is doing noble battle in your heart;
+but it is the weaker vessel, and it always will be so with a man of your
+mould, inasmuch as such resolutions are backed up by the less fierce
+elements of our nature. Put this down as an established principle. Well,
+then, I will take upon myself the betrayal. I will plead you ignorant of
+the charge, procure her forgiveness, and reconcile the matter with this
+Mullholland. It's worth an hundred or more, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>The venerable man smiles, shakes his head as if heedless of the
+admonition, and again covers his face with his domino.</p>
+
+<p>The accommodation man, calling him by his judicial title, says he will
+yet repent the refusal!</p>
+
+<p>It is ten o'clock. The gentleman slightly colored, who represents a
+fussy beadle, makes a flourish with his great staff. The doors of the
+dancing hall are thrown open. Like the rushing of the gulf stream there
+floods in a motley procession of painted females and masked men&mdash;the
+former in dresses as varied in hue as the fires of remorse burning out
+their unuttered thoughts. Two and two they jeer and crowd their way
+along into the spacious hall, the walls of which are frescoed in
+extravagant mythological designs, the roof painted in fret work, and the
+cornices interspersed with seraphs in stucco and gilt. The lights of two
+massive chandeliers throw a bewitching refulgence over a scene at once
+picturesque and mysterious; and from four tall mirrors secured between
+the windows, is reflected the forms and movements of the masquers.</p>
+
+<p>Reader! you have nothing in this democratic country with which to
+successfully compare it. And to seek a comparison in the old world,
+where vice, as in this city of chivalry, hath a license, serves not our
+office.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Flamingo, flanked right and left by twelve colored gentlemen,
+who, their collars decorated with white and pink rosettes, officiate as
+masters of ceremony, and form a crescent in front of the thronging
+procession, steps gradually backward, curtsying and bowing, and
+spreading her hands to her guests, after the manner of my Lord
+Chamberlain.</p>
+
+<p>Eight colored musicians, (everything is colored here,) perched on a
+raised platform covered with maroon-colored plush, at the signal of a
+lusty-tongued call-master, strike up a march, to which the motley throng
+attempt to keep time. It is martial enough; and discordant enough for
+anything but keeping time to.</p>
+
+<p>The plush-covered benches filing along the sides and ends of the hall
+are eagerly sought after and occupied by a strange mixture of lookers on
+in Vienna. Here the hoary-headed father sits beside a newly-initiated
+youth who is receiving his first lesson of dissipation. There the grave
+and chivalric planter sports with the nice young man, who is cultivating
+a beard and his way into the by-ways. A little further on the suspicious
+looking gambler sits freely conversing with the man whom a degrading
+public opinion has raised to the dignity of the judicial bench. Yonder
+is seen the man who has eaten his way into fashionable society, (and by
+fashionable society very much caressed in return,) the bosom companion
+of the man whose crimes have made him an outcast.</p>
+
+<p>Generous reader! contemplate this grotesque assembly; study the object
+Madame Flamingo has in gathering it to her fold. Does it not present the
+accessories to wrong doing? Does it not show that the wrong-doer and the
+criminally inclined, too often receive encouragement by the example of
+those whoso duty it is to protect society? The spread of crime, alas!
+for the profession, is too often regarded by the lawyer as rather a
+desirable means of increasing his trade.</p>
+
+<p>Quadrille follows quadrille, the waltz succeeds the schottish, the scene
+presents one bewildering maze of flaunting gossamers and girating
+bodies, now floating sylph-like into the foreground, then whirling
+seductively into the shadowy vista, where the joyous laugh dies out in
+the din of voices. The excitement has seized upon the head and heart of
+the young,&mdash;the child who stood trembling between the first and second
+downward step finds her reeling brain a captive in this snare set to
+seal her ruin.</p>
+
+<p>Now the music ceases, the lusty-tongued call-master stands surveying
+what he is pleased to call the oriental splendor of this grotesque
+assembly. He doesn't know who wouldn't patronize such a house! It
+suddenly forms in platoon, and marshalled by slightly-colored masters of
+ceremony, promenades in an oblong figure.</p>
+
+<p>Here, leaning modestly on the arm of a tall figure in military uniform,
+and advancing slowly up the hall, is a girl of some sixteen summers. Her
+finely-rounded form is in harmony with the ravishing vivacity of her
+face, which is beautifully oval. Seen by the glaring gas-light her
+complexion is singularly clear and pale. But that freshness which had
+gained her many an admirer, and which gave such a charm to the roundness
+of early youth, we look for in vain. And yet there is a softness and
+delicacy about her well-cut and womanly features&mdash;a childlike sweetness
+in her smile&mdash;a glow of thoughtfulness in those great, flashing black
+eyes&mdash;an expression of melancholy in which at short intervals we read
+her thoughts&mdash;an incessant playing of those long dark eyelashes, that
+clothes her charms with an irresistible, a soul-inspiring seductiveness.
+Her dress, of moire antique, is chasteness itself; her bust exquisite
+symmetry; it heaves as softly as if touched by some gentle zephyr. From
+an Haidean brow falls and floats undulating over her marble-like
+shoulders, the massive folds of her glossy black hair. Nature had indeed
+been lavish of her gifts on this fair creature, to whose charms no
+painter could give a touch more fascinating. This girl, whose elastic
+step and erect carriage contrasts strangely with the languid forms about
+her, is Anna Bonard, the neglected, the betrayed. There passes and
+repasses her, now contemplating her with a curious stare, then muttering
+inaudibly, a man of portly figure, in mask and cowl. He touches with a
+delicate hand his watch-guard, we see two sharp, lecherous eyes peering
+through the domino; he folds his arms and pauses a few seconds, as if to
+survey the metal of her companion, then crosses and recrosses her path.
+Presently his singular demeanor attracts her attention, a curl of
+sarcasm is seen on her lip, her brow darkens, her dark orbs flash as of
+fire,&mdash;all the heart-burnings of a soul stung with shame are seen to
+quicken and make ghastly those features that but a moment before shone
+lambent as summer lightning. He pauses as with a look of withering scorn
+she scans him from head to foot, raises covertly her left hand, tossing
+carelessly her glossy hair on her shoulder, and with lightning quickness
+snatches with her right the domino from his face. "Hypocrite!" she
+exclaims, dashing it to the ground, and with her foot placed defiantly
+upon the domino, assumes a tragic attitude, her right arm extended, and
+the forefinger of her hand pointing in his face, "Ah!" she continues, in
+biting accents, "it is against the perfidy of such as you. I have
+struggled. Your false face, like your heart, needed a disguise. But I
+have dragged it away, that you may be judged as you are. This is my
+satisfaction for your betrayal. Oh that I could have deeper revenge!"
+She has unmasked Judge Sleepyhorn, who stands before the anxious gaze of
+an hundred night revellers, pressing eagerly to the scene of confusion.
+Madame Flamingo's house, as you may judge, is much out in its dignity,
+and in a general uproar. There was something touching&mdash;something that
+the graver head might ponder over, in the words of this unfortunate
+girl&mdash;"I have struggled!" A heedless and gold-getting world seldom
+enters upon the mystery of its meaning. But it hath a meaning deep and
+powerful in its appeal to society&mdash;one that might serve the good of a
+commonwealth did society stoop and take it by the hand.</p>
+
+<p>So sudden was the motion with which this girl snatched the mask from the
+face of the Judge, (he stood as if appalled,) that, ere he had gained
+his self-possession, she drew from her girdle a pearl-hilted stiletto,
+and in attempting to ward off the dreadful lunge, he struck it from her
+hand, and into her own bosom. The weapon fell gory to the floor&mdash;the
+blood trickled down her bodice&mdash;a cry of "murder" resounded through the
+hall! The administrator of justice rushed out of the door as the unhappy
+girl swooned in the arms of her partner. A scene so confused and wild
+that it bewilders the brain, now ensued. Madame Flamingo calls loudly
+for Mr. Soloman; and as the reputation of her house is uppermost in her
+thoughts, she atones for its imperiled condition by fainting in the arms
+of a grave old gentleman, who was beating a hasty retreat, and whose
+respectability she may compromise through this uncalled-for act.</p>
+
+<p>A young man of slender form, and pale, sandy features, makes his way
+through the crowd, clasps Anna affectionately in his arms, imprints a
+kiss on her pallid brow, and bears her out of the hall.</p>
+
+<p>By the aid of hartshorn and a few dashes of cold water, the old hostess
+is pleased to come to, as we say, and set about putting her house in
+order. Mr. Soloman, to the great joy of those who did not deem it
+prudent to make their escape, steps in to negotiate for the peace of the
+house and the restoration of order. "It is all the result of a mistake,"
+he says laughingly, and good-naturedly, patting every one he meets on
+the shoulder. "A little bit of jealousy on the part of the girl. It all
+had its origin in an error that can be easily rectified. In a word,
+there's much ado about nothing in the whole of it. Little affairs of
+this kind are incident to fashionable society all over the world! The
+lady being only scratched, is more frightened than hurt. Nobody is
+killed; and if there were, why killings are become so fashionable, that
+if the killed be not a gentleman, nobody thinks anything of it," he
+continues. And Mr. Soloman being an excellent diplomatist, does, with
+the aid of the hostess, her twelve masters of ceremony, her beadle, and
+two policemen, forthwith bring the house to a more orderly condition.
+But night has rolled into the page of the past, the gray dawn of morning
+is peeping in at the half-closed windows, the lights burning in the
+chandeliers shed a pale glow over the wearied features of those who
+drag, as it were, their languid bodies to the stifled music of unwilling
+slaves. And while daylight seems modestly contending with the vulgar
+glare within, there appears among the pale revellers a paler ghost, who,
+having stalked thrice up and down the hall, preserving the frigidity and
+ghostliness of the tomb, answering not the questions that are put to
+him, and otherwise deporting himself as becometh a ghost of good metal,
+is being taken for a demon of wicked import. Now he pauses at the end of
+the hall, faces with spectre-like stare the alarmed group at the
+opposite end, rests his left elbow on his scythe-staff, and having set
+his glass on the floor, points to its running sands warningly with his
+right forefinger. Not a muscle does he move. "Truly a ghost!" exclaims
+one. "A ghost would have vanished before this," whispers another. "Speak
+to him," a third responds, as the musicians are seen to pale and leave
+their benches. Madame Flamingo, pale and weary, is first to rush for the
+door, shrieking as his ghostship turns his grim face upon her. Shriek
+follows shriek, the lights are put out, the gray dawn plays upon and
+makes doubly frightful the spectre. A Pandemonium of shriekings and
+beseechings is succeeded by a stillness as of the tomb. Our ghost is
+victor.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr/>
+<h3>CHAPTER VIII.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>WHAT TAKES PLACE BETWEEN GEORGE MULLHOLLAND AND MR. SNIVEL.</p>
+
+
+<p>The man who kissed and bore away the prostrate girl was George
+Mullholland.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! George&mdash;George!" she whispers imploringly, as her eyes meet his;
+and turning upon the couch of her chamber, where he hath lain her,
+awakes to consciousness, and finds him watching over her with a lover's
+solicitude. "I was not cold because I loved you less&mdash;oh no! It was to
+propitiate my ambition&mdash;to be free of the bondage of this house&mdash;to
+purge myself of the past&mdash;to better my future!" And she lays her pale,
+nervous hand gently on his arm&mdash;then grasps his hand and presses it
+fervently to her lips.</p>
+
+<p>Though placed beyond the pale of society&mdash;though envied by one extreme
+and shunned by the other&mdash;she finds George her only true friend. He
+parts and smooths gently over her polished shoulders her dishevelled
+hair; he watches over her with the tenderness of a brother; he quenches
+and wipes away the blood oozing from her wounded breast; he kisses and
+kisses her flushed cheek, and bathes her Ion-like brow. He forgives all.
+His heart would speak if his tongue had words to represent it. He would
+the past were buried&mdash;the thought of having wronged him forgotten. She
+recognizes in his solicitude for her the sincerity of his heart. It
+touches like sweet music the tenderest chords of her own; and like
+gushing fountains her great black eyes fill with tears. She buries her
+face in her hands, crying, "Never, never, George, (I swear it before the
+God I have wronged, but whose forgiveness I still pray,) will I again
+forget my obligation to you! I care not how high in station he who seeks
+me maybe. Ambitious!&mdash;I was misled. His money lured me away, but he
+betrayed me in the face of his promises. Henceforth I have nothing for
+this deceptive world; I receive of it nothing but betrayal&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The world wants nothing more of either of us," interrupts George.</p>
+
+<p>More wounded in her feelings than in her flesh, she sobs and wrings her
+hands like one in despair.</p>
+
+<p>"You have ambition. I am too poor to serve your ambition!"</p>
+
+<p>That word, too "poor," is more than her already distracted brain can
+bear up under. It brings back the terrible picture of their past
+history; it goads and agonizes her very soul. She throws her arms
+frantically about his neck; presses him to her bosom; kisses him with
+the fervor of a child. Having pledged his forgiveness with a kiss, and
+sealed it by calling in a witness too often profaned on such occasions,
+George calms her feelings as best he can; then he smooths with a gentle
+hand the folds of her uplifted dress, and with them curtains the satin
+slippers that so delicately encase her small feet. This done, he spreads
+over her the richly-lined India morning-gown presented to her a few days
+ago by the Judge, who, as she says, so wantonly betrayed her, and on
+whom she sought revenge. Like a Delian maid, surrounded with Oriental
+luxury, and reclining on satin and velvet, she flings her flowing hair
+over her shoulders, nestles her weary head in the embroidered cushion,
+and with the hand of her only true friend firmly grasped in her own,
+soothes away into a calm sleep&mdash;that sovereign but too transient balm
+for sorrowing hearts.</p>
+
+<p>Our scene changes. The ghost hath taken himself to the graveyard; the
+morning dawns soft and sunny on what we harmlessly style the sunny city
+of the sunny South. Madame Flamingo hath resolved to nail another
+horse-shoe over her door. She will propitiate (so she hath it) the god
+of ghosts.</p>
+
+<p>George Mullholland, having neither visible means of gaining a livelihood
+nor a settled home, may be seen in a solitary box at Baker's, (a
+coffee-house at the corner of Meeting and Market streets,) eating an
+humble breakfast. About him there is a forlornness that the quick eye
+never fails to discover in the manners of the homeless man. "Cleverly
+done," he says, laying down the <i>Mercury</i> newspaper, in which it is set
+forth that "the St. Cecilia, in consequence of an affliction in the
+family of one of its principal members, postponed its assembly last
+night. The theatre, in consequence of a misunderstanding between the
+manager and his people, was also closed. The lecture on comparative
+anatomy, by Professor Bones, which was to have been delivered at
+Hibernian Hall, is, in consequence of the indisposition of the learned
+Professor, put off to Tuesday evening next, when he will have, as he
+deserves, an overflowing house. Tickets, as before, may be had at all
+the music and bookstores." The said facetious journal was silent on the
+superior attractions at the house of the old hostess; nor did it deem it
+prudent to let drop a word on the misunderstanding between the patrons
+of the drama and the said theatrical manager, inasmuch as it was one of
+those that are sure to give rise to a very serious misunderstanding
+between that functionary and his poor people.</p>
+
+<p>In another column the short but potent line met his eye: "An overflowing
+and exceedingly fashionable house greeted the Negro Minstrels last
+night. First-rate talent never goes begging in our city." George sips
+his coffee and smiles. Wonderfully clever these editors are, he thinks.
+They have nice apologies for public taste always on hand; set the
+country by the ears now and then; and amuse themselves with carrying on
+the most prudent description of wars.</p>
+
+<p>His own isolated condition, however, is uppermost in his mind. Poverty
+and wretchedness stare him in the face on one side; chivalry, on the
+other, has no bows for him while daylight lasts. Instinct whispers in
+his ear&mdash;where one exists the other is sure to be.</p>
+
+<p>To the end that this young man will perform a somewhat important part in
+the by-ways of this history, some further description of him may be
+necessary. George Mullholland stands some five feet nine, is
+wiry-limbed, and slender and erect of person. Of light complexion, his
+features, are sharp and irregular, his face narrow and freckled, his
+forehead small and retreating, his hair sandy and short-cropped. Add to
+these two small, dull, gray eyes, and you have features not easily
+described. Nevertheless, there are moments when his countenance wears an
+expression of mildness&mdash;one in which the quick eye may read a character
+more inoffensive than intrusive. A swallow-tail blue coat, of ample
+skirts, and brass buttons; a bright-colored waistcoat, opening an
+avalanche of shirt-bosom, blossoming with cheap jewelry; a broad,
+rolling shirt-collar, tied carelessly with a blue ribbon; a
+steeple-crowned hat, set on the side of his head with a challenging air;
+and a pair of broadly-striped and puckered trowsers, reaching well over
+a small-toed and highly-glazed boot, constitutes his dress. For the
+exact set of those two last-named articles of his wardrobe he maintains
+a scrupulous regard. We are compelled to acknowledge George an
+importation from New York, where he would be the more readily recognized
+by that vulgar epithet, too frequently used by the self-styled
+refined&mdash;"a swell."</p>
+
+<p>Life with George is a mere drift of uncertainty. As for aims and ends,
+why he sees the safer thing in having nothing to do with them. Mr. Tom
+Toddleworth once advised this course, and Tom was esteemed good
+authority in such matters. Like many others, his character is made up of
+those yielding qualities which the teachings of good men may elevate to
+usefulness, or bad men corrupt by their examples. There is a stage in
+the early youth of such persons when we find their minds singularly
+susceptible, and ready to give rapid growth to all the vices of depraved
+men; while they are equally apt in receiving good, if good men but take
+the trouble to care for them, and inculcate lessons of morality.</p>
+
+<p>Not having a recognized home, we may add, in resuming our story, that
+George makes Baker's his accustomed haunt during the day, as do also
+numerous others of his class&mdash;a class recognized and made use of by men
+in the higher walks of life only at night.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! ha, ha! into a tight place this time, George," laughs out Mr.
+Soloman, the accommodation man, as he hastens into the room, seats
+himself in the box with George, and seizes his hand with the
+earnestness of a true friend. Mr. Soloman can deport himself on all
+occasions with becoming good nature. "It's got out, you see."</p>
+
+<p>"What has got out?" interrupts George, maintaining a careless
+indifference.</p>
+
+<p>"Come now! none of that, old fellow."</p>
+
+<p>"If I understood you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That affair last night," pursues Mr. Soloman, his delicate fingers
+wandering into his more delicately-combed beard. "It'll go hard with
+you. He's a stubborn old cove, that Sleepyhorn; administers the law as
+C&aelig;sar was wont to. Yesterday he sent seven to the whipping-post; to-day
+he hangs two 'niggers' and a white man. There is a consolation in
+getting rid of the white. I say this because no one loses a dollar by
+it."</p>
+
+<p>George, continuing to masticate his bread, says it has nothing to do
+with him. He may hang the town.</p>
+
+<p>"If I can do you a bit of a good turn, why here's your man. But you must
+not talk that way&mdash;you must not, George, I assure you!" Mr. Soloman
+assumes great seriousness of countenance, and again, in a friendly way,
+takes George by the hand. "That poignard, George, was yours. It was
+picked up by myself when it fell from your hand&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"My hand! my hand!" George quietly interposes, his countenance paling,
+and his eyes wandering in excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"Now don't attempt to disguise the matter, you know! Come out on the
+square&mdash;own up! Jealousy plays the devil with one now and then. I
+know&mdash;I have had a touch of it; had many a little love affair in my
+time&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>George again interrupts by inquiring to what he is coming.</p>
+
+<p>"To the attempt (the accommodation man assumes an air of sternness) you
+made last night on the life of that unhappy girl. It is needless," he
+adds, "to plead ignorance. The Judge has the poignard; and what's more,
+there are four witnesses ready to testify. It'll go hard with you, my
+boy." He shakes his head warningly.</p>
+
+<p>"I swear before God and man I am as innocent as ignorant of the charge.
+The poignard I confess is mine; but I had no part in the act of last
+night, save to carry the prostrate girl&mdash;the girl I dearly love&mdash;away.
+This I can prove by her own lips."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Soloman, with an air of legal profundity, says: "This is all very
+well in its way, George, but it won't stand in law. The law is what you
+have got to get at. And when you have got at it, you must get round it;
+and then you must twist it and work it every which way&mdash;only be careful
+not to turn its points against yourself; that, you know, is the way we
+lawyers do the thing. You'll think we're a sharp lot; and we have to be
+sharp, as times are."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not surprising," replies George, as if waking from a fit of
+abstraction, "that she should have sought revenge of one who so basely
+betrayed her at the St. Cecilia&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"There, there!" Mr. Soloman interrupts, changing entirely the expression
+of his countenance, "the whole thing is out! I said there was an
+unexplained mystery somewhere. It was not the Judge, but me who betrayed
+her to the assembly. Bless you, (he smiles, and crooking his finger,
+beckons a servant, whom he orders to bring a julep,) I was bound to do
+it, being the guardian of the Society's dignity, which office I have
+held for years. But you don't mean to have it that the girl
+attempted&mdash;(he suddenly corrects himself)&mdash;Ah, that won't do, George.
+Present my compliments to Anna&mdash;I wouldn't for the world do aught to
+hurt her feelings, you know that&mdash;and say I am ready to get on my knees
+to her to confess myself a penitent for having injured her feelings.
+Yes, I am ready to do anything that will procure her forgiveness. I
+plead guilty. But she must in return forgive the Judge. He is hard in
+law matters&mdash;that is, we of the law consider him so&mdash;now and then; but
+laying that aside, he is one of the best old fellows in the world, loves
+Anna to distraction; nor has he the worst opinion in the world of you,
+George. Fact is, I have several times heard him refer to you in terms of
+praise. As I said before, being the man to do you a bit of a good turn,
+take my advice as a friend. The Judge has got you in his grasp,
+according to every established principle of law; and having four good
+and competent witnesses, (You have no voice in law, and Anna's won't
+stand before a jury,) will send you up for a twelve-months' residence in
+Mount Rascal."</p>
+
+<p>It will be almost needless here to add, that Mr. Soloman had, in an
+interview with the Judge, arranged, in consideration of a goodly fee, to
+assume the responsibility of the betrayal at the St. Cecilia; and also
+to bring about a reconciliation between him and the girl he so
+passionately sought.</p>
+
+<p>Keep out of the way a few days, and everything will blow over and come
+right. I will procure you the Judge's friendship&mdash;yes, his money, if you
+want. More than that, I will acknowledge my guilt to Anna; and being as
+generous of heart as she is beautiful, she will, having discovered the
+mistake, forgive me and make amends to the Judge for her foolish act.</p>
+
+<p>It is almost superfluous to add, that the apparent sincerity with which
+the accommodation man pleaded, had its effect on the weak-minded man. He
+loved dearly the girl, but poverty hung like a leaden cloud over him.
+Poverty stripped him of the means of gratifying her ambition; poverty
+held him fast locked in its blighting chains; poverty forbid his
+rescuing her from the condition necessity had imposed upon her; poverty
+was goading him into crime; and through crime only did he see the means
+of securing to himself the cherished object of his love.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not dead to your friendship, but I am too sad at heart to make any
+pledge that involves Anna, at this moment. We met in wretchedness, came
+up in neglect and crime, sealed our love with the hard seal of
+suffering. Oh! what a history of misery my heart could unfold, if it had
+but a tongue!" George replies, in subdued accents, as a tear courses
+down his cheek.</p>
+
+<p>Extending his hand, with an air of encouragement, Mr. Soloman says
+nothing in the world would so much interest him as a history of the
+relations existing between George and Anna. Their tastes, aims, and very
+natures, are different. To him their connection is clothed in mystery.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER IX.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>IN WHICH A GLEAM OF LIGHT IS SHED ON THE HISTORY OF ANNA BONARD.</p>
+
+
+<p>A bottle of wine, and the mild, persuasive manner of Mr. Snivel, so
+completely won over George's confidence, that, like one of that class
+always too ready to give out their heart-achings at the touch of
+sympathy, and too easily betrayed through misplaced confidence, he
+commences relating his history. That of Anna is identified with it. "We
+will together proceed to New York, for it is there, among haunts of vice
+and depravity&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"In depth of degradation they have no counterpart on our globe," Mr.
+Soloman interrupts, filling his glass.</p>
+
+<p>"We came up together&mdash;knew each other, but not ourselves. That was our
+dark age." George pauses for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless you," again interrupts Mr. Soloman, tipping his glass very
+politely, "I never&mdash;that is, when I hear our people who get themselves
+laced into narrow-stringed Calvinism, and long-founded foreign missions,
+talk&mdash;think much could have come of the dark ages. I speak after the
+manner of an attorney, when I say this. We hear a deal of the dark ages,
+the crimes of the dark ages, the dark idolatry of darker Africa. My word
+for it, and it's something, if they had anything darker in Sodom; if
+they had in Babylon a state of degradation more hardened of crime; if
+in Egypt there existed a benightedness more stubbornly opposed to the
+laws of God&mdash;than is to be found in that New York; that city of merchant
+princes with princely palaces; that modern Pompeii into which a mighty
+commerce teems its mightier gold, where a coarse throng revel in coarser
+luxury, where a thousand gaudy churches rear heavenward their gaudier
+steeples, then I have no pity for Sodom, not a tear to shed over fallen
+Babylon, and very little love for Egypt." Mr. Snivel concludes,
+saying&mdash;"proceed, young man."</p>
+
+<p>"Of my mother I know nothing. My father (I mean the man I called father,
+but who they said was not my father, though he was the only one that
+cared anything for me) was Tom English, who used to live here and there
+with me about the Points. He was always looking in at Paddy Pie's, in
+Orange street, and Paddy Pie got all his money, and then Paddy Pie and
+him quarrelled, and we were turned out of Paddy Pie's house. So we used
+to lodge here and there, in the cellars about the Points, in 'Cut Throat
+Alley,' or 'Cow Bay,' or 'Murderer's Alley,' or in 'The House of the
+Nine Nations,' or wherever we could get a sixpenny rag to lay down upon.
+Nobody but English seemed to care for me, and English cared for nobody
+but me. And English got thick with Mrs. McCarty and her three
+daughters&mdash;they kept the Rookery in 'Cow Bay,' which we used to get to
+up a long pair of stairs outside, and which God knows I never want to
+think of again,&mdash;where sometimes fourteen or fifteen of us, men and
+women, used to sleep in a little room Mrs. McCarty paid eight dollars a
+month for. And Mr. Crown, who always seemed a cross sort of man, and was
+agent for all the houses on the Points I thought, used to say she had it
+too cheap. And English got to thinking a good deal of Mrs. McCarty, and
+Mrs. McCarty's daughters got to thinking a good deal of him. And
+Boatswain Bill, who lived at the house of the 'Nine Nations'&mdash;the house
+they said had a bottomless pit&mdash;and English used to fight a deal about
+the Miss McCartys, and Bill one night threw English over the high stoop,
+down upon the pavement, and broke his arms. They said it was a wonder it
+hadn't a broken his neck. Fighting Mary (Mary didn't go by that name
+then) came up and took English's part, and whipped Boatswain Bill, and
+said she'd whip the whole house of the 'Nine Nations' if it had spunk
+enough in it to come on. But no one dare have a set-to with Mary. Mary
+used to drink a deal of gin, and say&mdash;'this gin and the devil'll get us
+all one of these days. I wonder if Mr. Crown'll sell bad gin to his
+highness when he gets him?' Well, Bill was sent up for six months, so
+the McCartys had peace in the house, and Mrs. McCarty got him little
+things, and did for English until his arms got well. Then he got a
+little money, (I don't know how he got it,) and Paddy Pie made good
+friends with him, and got him from the Rookery, and then all his money.
+I used to think all the money in the Points found its way either to the
+house of Paddy Pie, or the Bottomless Pit at the house of the 'Nine
+Nations,' and all the clothes to the sign of the 'Three Martyrs,' which
+the man with the eagle face kept round the corner.</p>
+
+<p>"English used to say in one of his troubled fits, 'I'd like to be a
+respectable man, and get out of this, if there was a chance, and do
+something for you, George. There's no chance, you see.' And when we went
+into Broadway, which we did now and then, and saw what another world it
+was, and how rich everything looked, English used to shake his head and
+say, 'they don't know how we live, George.'</p>
+
+<p>"Paddy Pie soon quarrelled with English, and being penniless again we
+had to shift for ourselves. English didn't like to go back to Mrs.
+McCarty, so we used to sleep at Mrs. Sullivan's cellar in 'Cut Throat
+Alley.' And Mrs. Sullivan's cellar was only about twelve feet by twenty,
+and high enough to stand up in, and wet enough for anything, and so
+overrun with rats and vermin that we couldn't sleep. There were nine
+rag-beds in the cellar, which as many as twenty-three would sometimes
+sleep on, or, if they were not too tipsy, try to sleep on. And folks
+used to come into the cellar at night, and be found dead in the morning.
+This made such a fuss in the neighborhood (there was always a fuss when
+Old Bones, the coroner, was about), and frightened so many, that Mrs.
+Sullivan couldn't get lodgers for weeks. She used to nail no end of
+horse-shoes over the door to keep out the ghosts of them that died last.
+But it was a long while before her lodgers got courage enough to come
+back. Then we went to the house of the Blazers, in 'Cow Bay,' and used
+to lodge there with Yellow Bill. They said Bill was a thief by
+profession; but I wasn't old enough to be a judge. Little Lizza Rock,
+the nondescript, as people called her, used to live at the Blazers. Poor
+Lizza had a hard time of it, and used to sigh and say she wished she was
+dead. Nobody thought of her, she said, and she was nothing because she
+was deformed, and a cripple. She was about four feet high, had a face
+like a bull-dog, and a swollen chest, and a hunchback, a deformed leg,
+and went with a crutch. She never combed her hair, and what few rags she
+had on her back hung in filth. What few shillings she got were sure to
+find their way either into Bill's pocket, or send her tipsy into the
+'Bottomless Pit' of the house of the 'Nine Nations.' There was in the
+Bottomless Pit a never-ending stream of gin that sent everybody to the
+Tombs, and from the Tombs to the grave. But Lizza was good to me, and
+used to take care of me, and steal little things for me from old Dan
+Sullivan, who begged in Broadway, and let Yellow Bill get his money, by
+getting him tipsy. And I got to liking Lizza, for we both seemed to have
+no one in the world who cared for us but English. And there was always
+some trouble between the Blazers and the people at the house of the
+'Nine Nations.'</p>
+
+<p>"Well, English was hard to do for some time, and through necessity,
+which he said a deal about, we were driven out of every place we had
+sought shelter in. And English did something they sent him up for a
+twelve-month for, and I was left to get on as I could. I was took in by
+'Hard-Fisted Sall,' who always wore a knuckle-duster, and used to knock
+everybody down she met, and threatened a dozen times to whip Mr.
+Fitzgerald, the detective, and used to rob every one she took in tow,
+and said if she could only knock down and rob the whole pumpkin-headed
+corporation she should die easy, for then she would know she had done a
+good thing for the public, whose money they were squandering without
+once thinking how the condition of such wretches as herself could be
+bettered.</p>
+
+<p>"English died before he had been up two months. And death reconciled the
+little difficulty between him and the McCartys; and old Mrs. McCarty's
+liking for him came back, and she went crying to the Bellevue and begged
+them, saying she was his mother, to let her take his body away and bury
+it. They let her have it, and she brought it away to the rookery, in a
+red coffin, and got a clean sheet of the Blazers, and hung it up beside
+the coffin, and set four candles on a table, and a little cross between
+them, and then borrowed a Bible with a cross on it, and laid it upon the
+coffin. Then they sent for me. I cried and kissed poor English, for poor
+English was the only father I knew, and he was good to me. I never shall
+forget what I saw in that little room that night. I found a dozen
+friends and the McCartys there, forming a half-circle of curious and
+demoniacal faces, peering over the body of English, whose face, I
+thought, formed the only repose in the picture. There were two small
+pictures&mdash;one of the Saviour, and the other of Kossuth&mdash;hung at the head
+and feet of the corpse; and the light shed a lurid paleness over the
+living and the dead. And detective Fitzgerald and another gentleman
+looked in.</p>
+
+<p>"'Who's here to-night?' says Fitzgerald, in a friendly sort of way.</p>
+
+<p>"'God love ye, Mr. Fitzgerald, poor English is gone! Indeed, then, it
+was the will of the Lord, and He's taken him from us&mdash;poor English!'
+says Mrs. McCarty. And Fitzgerald, and the gentleman with him, entered
+the den, and they shuddered and sat down at the sight of the face in the
+coffin. 'Sit down, Mr. Fitzgerald, do!&mdash;and may the Lord love ye! There
+was a deal of good in poor English. He's gone&mdash;so he is!' said Mrs.
+McCarty, begging them to sit down, and excuse the disordered state of
+her few rags. She had a hard struggle to live, God knows. They took off
+their hats, and sat a few minutes in solemn silence. The rags moved at
+the gentleman's side, which made him move towards the door. 'What is
+there, my good woman?' he inquired. 'She's a blessed child, Mr.
+Fitzgerald knows that same:' says Mrs. McCarty, turning down the rags
+and revealing the wasted features of her youngest girl, a child eleven
+years old, sinking in death. 'God knows she'll be better in heaven, and
+herself won't be long out of it,' Mrs. McCarty twice repeated,
+maintaining a singular indifference to the hand of death, already upon
+the child. The gentleman left some money to buy candles for poor
+English, and with Mr. Fitzgerald took himself away.</p>
+
+<p>"Near midnight, the tall black figure of solemn-faced Father Flaherty
+stalked in. He was not pleased with the McCartys, but went to the side
+of the dying child, fondled her little wasted hand in his own, and
+whispered a prayer for her soul. Never shall I forget how innocently she
+looked in his face while he parted the little ringlets that curled over
+her brow, and told her she would soon have a better home in a better
+world. Then he turned to poor English, and the cross, and the candles,
+and the pictures, and the living faces that gave such a ghastliness to
+the picture. Mrs. McCarty brought him a basin of water, over which he
+muttered, and made it holy. Then he again muttered some unintelligible
+sentences, and sprinkled the water over the dying child, over the body
+of poor English, and over the living&mdash;warning Mrs. McCarty and her
+daughters, as he pointed to the coffin. Then he knelt down, and they all
+knelt down, and he prayed for the soul of poor English, and left. What
+holy water then was left, Mrs. McCarty placed near the door, to keep the
+ghosts out.</p>
+
+<p>"The neighbors at the Blazers took a look in, and a few friends at the
+house of the 'Nine Nations' took a look in, and 'Fighting Mary,' of
+Murderer's Alley, took a look in, and before Father Flaherty had got
+well out of 'Cow Bay,' it got to be thought a trifle of a wake would
+console Mrs. McCarty's distracted feelings. 'Hard-fisted Sall' came to
+take a last look at poor English; and she said she would spend her last
+shilling over poor English, and having one, it would get a drop, and a
+drop dropped into the right place would do Mrs. McCarty a deal of good.</p>
+
+<p>"And Mrs. McCarty agreed that it wouldn't be amiss, and putting with
+Sall's shilling the money that was to get the candles, I was sent to the
+'Bottomless Pit' at the house of the 'Nine Nations,' where Mr. Crown had
+a score with the old woman, and fetched away a quart of his gin, which
+they said was getting the whole of them. The McCartys took a drop, and
+the girls took a drop, and the neighbors took a drop, and they all kept
+taking drops, and the drops got the better of them all. One of the Miss
+McCartys got to having words with 'Fighting Mary,' about an old affair
+in which poor English was concerned, and the words got to blows, when
+Mr. Flanegan at the Blazers stepped in to make peace. But the whole
+house got into a fight, and the lights were put out, the corpse knocked
+over, and the child (it was found dead in the morning) suffocated with
+the weight of bodies felled in the melee. The noise and cries of murder
+brought the police rushing in, and most of them were dragged off to the
+Station; and the next day being Sunday, I wandered homeless and
+friendless into Sheriff street. Poor English was taken in charge by the
+officers. They kept him over Monday to see if any one would come up and
+claim him. No one came for him; no one knew more of him than that he
+went by the name of English; no one ever heard him say where he came
+from&mdash;he never said a word about my mother, or whether he had a relation
+in the world. He was carted off to Potter's Field and buried. That was
+the last of poor English.</p>
+
+<p>"We seldom got much to eat in the Points, and I had not tasted food for
+twenty-four hours. I sat down on the steps of a German grocery, and was
+soon ordered away by the keeper. Then I wandered into a place they
+called Nightmare's Alley, where three old wooden buildings with
+broken-down verandas stood, and were inhabited principally by butchers.
+I sat down on the steps of one, and thought if I only had a mother, or
+some one to care for me, and give me something to eat, how happy I
+should be. And I cried. And a great red-faced man came out of the house,
+and took me in, and gave me something to eat. His name was Mike
+Mullholland, and he was good to me, and I liked him, and took his name.
+And he lived with a repulsive looking woman, in a little room he paid
+ten dollars a month for. He had two big dogs, and worked at day work, in
+a slaughter-house in Staunton street. The dogs were known in the
+neighborhood as Mullholland's dogs, and with them I used to sleep on the
+rags of carpet spread for us in the room with Mullholland and his wife,
+who I got to calling mother. This is how I took the name of Mullholland.
+I was glad to leave the Points, and felt as if I had a home. But there
+was a 'Bottomless Pit' in Sheriff street, and though not so bad as the
+one at the house of the 'Nine Nations,' it gave out a deal of gin that
+the Mullhollands had a liking for. I was continually going for it, and
+the Mullhollands were continually drinking it; and the whole
+neighborhood liked it, and in 'Nightmare's Alley' the undertaker found a
+profitable business.</p>
+
+<p>"In the morning I went with the dogs to the slaughter-house, and there
+fed them, and took care of the fighting cocks, and brought gin for the
+men who worked there. In the afternoon I joined the newsboys, as ragged
+and neglected as myself, gambled for cents, and watched the policemen,
+whom we called the Charleys. I lived with Mullholland two years, and saw
+and felt enough to make hardened any one of my age. One morning there
+came a loud knocking at the door, which was followed by the entrance of
+two officers. The dogs had got out and bitten a child, and the officers,
+knowing who owned them, had come to arrest Mullholland. We were all
+surprised, for the officers recognized in Mullholland and the woman two
+old offenders. And while they were dragged off to the Tombs, I was left
+to prey upon the world as best I could. Again homeless, I wandered about
+with urchins as ragged and destitute as myself. It seemed to me that
+everybody viewed me as an object of suspicion, for I sought in vain for
+employment that would give me bread and clothing. I wanted to be honest,
+and would have lived honest; but I could not make people believe me
+honest. And when I told who I was, and where I sheltered myself, I was
+ordered away. Everybody judged me by the filthy shreds on my back;
+nobody had anything for me to do.</p>
+
+<p>"I applied at a grocer's, to sweep his store and go errands. When I told
+him where I had lived, he shook his head and ordered me away. Knowing I
+could fill a place not unknown to me, I applied at a butcher's in Mott
+street; but he pointed his knife&mdash;which left a wound in my feelings&mdash;and
+ordered me away. And I was ordered away wherever I went. The doors of
+the Chatham theatre looked too fine for me. My ragged condition rebuked
+me wherever I went, and for more than a week I slept under a cart that
+stood in Mott street. Then Tom Farley found me, and took me with him to
+his cellar, in Elizabeth street, where we had what I thought a good bed
+of shavings. Tom sold <i>Heralds</i>, gambled for cents, and shared with me,
+and we got along. Then Tom stole a dog, and the dog got us into a deal
+of trouble, which ended with getting us both into the Tombs, where Tom
+was locked up. I was again adrift, as we used to call it, and thought of
+poor Tom a deal. Every one I met seemed higher up in the world than I
+was. But I got into Centre Market, carried baskets, and did what I could
+to earn a shilling, and slept in Tom's bed, where there was some nights
+fifteen and twenty like myself.</p>
+
+<p>"One morning, while waiting a job, my feet and hands benumbed with the
+cold, a beautiful lady slipped a shilling into my hand and passed on. To
+one penniless and hungry, it seemed a deal of money. Necessity had
+almost driven me to the sign of the 'Three Martyrs,' to see what the man
+of the eagle face would give me on my cap, for they said the man at the
+'Three Martyrs' lent money on rags such as I had. I followed the woman,
+for there was something so good in the act that I could not resist it.
+She entered a fine house in Leonard street.</p>
+
+<p>"You must now go with me into the den of Hag Zogbaum, in 'Scorpion
+Cove;' and 'Scorpion Cove' is in Pell street. Necessity next drove me
+there. It is early spring, we will suppose; and being in the Bowery, we
+find the streets in its vicinity reeking with putrid matter, hurling
+pestilence into the dark dwellings of the unknown poor, and making
+thankful the coffin-maker, who in turn thanks a nonundertaking
+corporation for the rich harvest. The muck is everywhere deep enough
+for hogs and fat aldermen to wallow in, and would serve well the
+purposes of a supper-eating corporation, whose chief business it was to
+fatten turtles and make Presidents.</p>
+
+<p>"We have got through the muck of the mucky Bowery. Let us turn to the
+left as we ascend the hill from Chatham street, and into a narrow,
+winding way, called Doyer's street. Dutch Sophy, then, as now, sits in
+all the good nature of her short, fat figure, serving her customers with
+ices, at three cents. Her cunning black eyes and cheerful, ruddy face,
+enhance the air of pertness that has made her a favorite with her
+customers. We will pass the little wooden shop, where Mr. Saunders makes
+boots of the latest style, and where old lapstone, with curious framed
+spectacles tied over his bleared eyes, has for the last forty years been
+seen at the window trimming welts, and mending every one's sole but his
+own; we will pass the four story wooden house that the landlord never
+paints&mdash;that has the little square windows, and the little square door,
+and the two little iron hand rails that curl so crabbedly at the ends,
+and guard four crabbeder steps that give ingress and egress to its swarm
+of poor but honest tenants; we will pass the shop where a short, stylish
+sign tells us Mr. Robertson makes bedsteads; and the little, slanting
+house a line of yellow letters on a square of black tin tells us is a
+select school for young ladies, and the bright, dainty looking house
+with the green shutters, where lives Mr. Vredenburg the carpenter, who,
+the neighbors say, has got up in the world, and paints his house to show
+that he feels above poor folks&mdash;and find we have reached the sooty and
+gin-reeking grocery of Mr. Korner, who sells the <i>devil's elixir</i> to the
+sootier devils that swarm the cellars of his neighbors. The faded blue
+letters, on a strip of wood nailed to the bricks over his door, tell us
+he is a dealer in 'Imported and other liquors.' Next door to Mr.
+Korner's tipsy looking grocery lives Mr. Muffin, the coffin-maker, who
+has a large business with the disciples who look in at Korner's. Mrs.
+Downey, a decent sort of body, who lives up the alley, and takes
+sixpenny lodgers by the dozen, may be seen in great tribulation with her
+pet pig, who, every day, much to the annoyance of Mr. Korner, manages to
+get out, and into the pool of decaying matter opposite his door, where
+he is sure to get stuck, and with his natural propensity, squeals
+lustily for assistance. Mrs. Downey, as is her habit, gets distracted;
+and having well abused Mr. Korner for his interference in a matter that
+can only concern herself and the animal, ventures to her knees in the
+mire, and having seized her darling pig by the two ears, does, with the
+assistance of a policeman, who kindly takes him by the tail, extricate
+his porkship, to the great joy of herself. The animal scampers,
+grunting, up the alley, as Mr. Korner, in his shirt sleeves, throws his
+broom after him, and the policeman surlily says he wishes it was the
+street commissioner.</p>
+
+<p>"We have made the circle of Doyer's street, and find it fortified on
+Pell street, with two decrepit wooden buildings, that the demand for the
+'devil's elixir,' has converted into Dutch groceries, their exteriors
+presenting the appearance of having withstood a storm of dilapidated
+clapboards, broken shutters, red herrings, and onions. Mr. Voss looks
+suspiciously through the broken shutters of his Gibraltar, at his
+neighbor of the opposite Gibraltar, and is heard to say of his wares
+that they are none of the best, and that while he sells sixpence a pint
+less, the article is a shilling a pint better. And there the two
+Gibraltars stand, apparently infirm, hurling their unerring missiles,
+and making wreck of everything in the neighborhood.</p>
+
+<p>"We have turned down Pell street toward Mott, and on the north side a
+light-colored sign, representing a smith in the act of shoeing a horse,
+attracts the eye, and tells us the old cavern-like building over which
+it swings, is where Mr. Mooney does smithwork and shoeing. And a little
+further on, a dash of yellow and white paint on a little sign-board at
+the entrance of an alley, guarded on one side by a broken-down shed, and
+on the other, by a three-story, narrow, brick building (from the windows
+of which trail long water-stains, and from the broken panes a dozen
+curious black heads, of as many curious eyed negroes protrude), tells us
+somewhat indefinitely, that Mister Mills, white-washer and wall-colorer,
+may be found in the neighborhood, which, judging from outward
+appearances, stands much in need of this good man's services. Just keep
+your eye on the sign of the white-washer and wall-colorer, and passing
+up the sickly alley it tells you Mister Mills maybe found in, you will
+find yourself (having picked your way over putrid matter, and placed
+your perfumed cambric where it will protect your lungs from the
+inhalation of pestilential air,) in the cozy area of 'Scorpion Cove.'
+Scorpion Cove is bounded at one end by a two-story wooden house, with
+two decayed and broken verandas in front, and rickety steps leading here
+and there to suspicious looking passages, into which, and out of which a
+never-ending platoon of the rising generation crawl and toddle, keep up
+a cheap serenade, and like rats, scamper away at the sight of a
+stranger; and on the other, by the back of the brick house with the
+negro-headed front. At the sides are two broken-down board fences, and
+forming a sort of network across the cove, are an innumerable quantity
+of unoccupied clothes-lines, which would seem only to serve the
+mischievous propensities of young negroes and the rats. There is any
+quantity of rubbish in 'Scorpion Cove,' and any amount of disease-breeding
+cesspools; but the corporation never heard of 'Scorpion Cove,' and
+wouldn't look into it if it had. If you ask me how it came to
+be called 'Scorpion Cove,' I will tell you. The brick house at one end
+was occupied by negroes; and the progeny of these negroes swarmed over
+the cove, and were called scorpions. The old house of the verandas at
+the other end, and which had an air of being propped up after a shock of
+paralysis, was inhabited by twenty or more families, of the Teutonic
+race, whose numerous progeny, called the hedge-hogs, were more than a
+match for the scorpions, and with that jealousy of each other which
+animates these races did the scorpions and hedge-hogs get at war. In the
+morning the scorpions would crawl up through holes in the cellar,
+through broken windows, through the trap-doors, down the long stairway
+that wound from the second and third stories over the broken pavilion,
+and from nobody could tell where&mdash;for they came, it seems, from every
+rat-hole, and with rolling white eyes, marshalled themselves for battle.
+The hedge-hogs mustering in similar strength, and springing up from no
+one could tell where, would set upon the scorpions, and after a goodly
+amount of wallowing in the mire, pulling hair and wool, scratching faces
+and pommeling noses, the scorpions being alternately the victors and
+vanquished, the war would end at the appearance of Hag Zogbaum, who,
+with her broom, would cause the scorpions to beat a hasty retreat. The
+hedge-hogs generally came off victorious, for they were the stronger
+race. But the old hedge-hogs got much shattered in time by the
+broadsides of the two Gibraltars, which sent them broadside on into the
+Tombs. And this passion of the elder hedge-hogs for getting into the
+Tombs, caused by degrees a curtailing of the younger hedge-hogs. And
+this falling off in the forces of the foe, singularly inspirited the
+scorpions, who mustered courage, and after a series of savage battles,
+in which there was a notorious amount of wool-pulling, gained the day.
+And this is how 'Scorpion Cove' got its name.</p>
+
+<p>"Hag Zogbaum lived in the cellar of the house with the verandas; and old
+Dan Sullivan and the rats had possession of the garret. In the cellar of
+this woman, whose trade was the fostering of crime in children as
+destitute as myself, there was a bar and a back cellar, where as many as
+twenty boys and girls slept on straw and were educated in vice. She took
+me into her nursery, and I was glad to get there, for I had no other
+place to go.</p>
+
+<p>"In the morning we were sent out to pilfer, to deceive the credulous,
+and to decoy others to the den. Some were instructed by Hag Zogbaum to
+affect deaf and dumb, to plead the starving condition of our parents,
+to, in a word, enlist the sympathies of the credulous with an hundred
+different stories. We were all stimulated by a premium being held out to
+the most successful. Some were sent out to steal pieces of iron, brass,
+copper, and old junk; and these Hag Zogbaum would sell or give to the
+man who kept the junk-shop in Stanton street, known as the rookery at
+the corner. (This man lived with Hag Zogbaum.) We returned at night with
+our booty, and received our wages in gin or beer. The unsuccessful were
+set down as victims of bad luck. Now and then the old woman would call
+us a miserable lot of wretches she was pestered to take care of. At one
+time there were in this den of wretchedness fifteen girls from seven to
+eleven years old, and seven boys under eleven&mdash;all being initiated into
+the by-ways of vice and crime. Among the girls were Italians, Germans,
+Irish, and&mdash;shall I say it?&mdash;Americans! It was curious to see what means
+the old hag would resort to for the purpose of improving their features
+after they had arrived at a certain age. She had a purpose in this; and
+that purpose sprang from that traffic in depravity caused by the demands
+of a depraved society, a theme on her lips continually."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER X.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>A CONTINUATION OF GEORGE MULLHOLLAND'S HISTORY.</p>
+
+
+<p>"Having served well the offices of felons and impostors, Hag Zogbaum
+would instruct her girls in the mysteries of licentiousness. When they
+reached a certain age, their personal appearance was improved, and one
+by one they were passed into the hands of splendidly-dressed ladies, as
+we then took them to be, who paid a sum for them to Hag Zogbaum, and
+took them away; and that was the last we saw of them. They had no desire
+to remain in their miserable abode, and were only too glad to get away
+from it. In most cases they were homeless and neglected orphans; and
+knowing no better condition, fell easy victims to the snares set for
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"It was in this dark, cavern-like den&mdash;in this mysterious caldron of
+precocious depravity, rioting unheeded in the very centre of a great
+city, whose boasted wealth and civilization it might put to shame, if
+indeed it were capable of shame, I first met the child of beauty, Anna
+Bonard. Yes!&mdash;the Anna Bonard you now see at the house of Madame
+Flamingo. At that time she was but seven years old&mdash;a child of uncommon
+beauty and aptness, of delicate but well-proportioned features, of
+middle stature, and a face that care might have made charming beyond
+comparison. But vice hardens, corrodes, and gives a false hue to the
+features. Anna said she was an orphan. How far this was true I know
+not. A mystery shrouded the way in which she fell into the hands of Hag
+Zogbaum. Hag Zogbaum said she got her of an apple-woman; and the
+apple-woman kept a stand in West street, but never would disclose how
+she came by Anna. And Mr. Tom Toddleworth, who was the chronicle of the
+Points, and used to look into 'Scorpion Cove' now and then, and inquire
+about Anna, as if he had a sort of interest in her, they said knew all
+about her. But if he did, he always kept it a secret between himself and
+Hag Zogbaum.</p>
+
+<p>"She was always of a melancholy turn, used to say life was but a burden
+to her&mdash;that she could see nothing in the future that did not seem dark
+and tortuous. The lot into which she was cast of necessity others might
+have mistaken for that which she had chosen. It was not. The hard hand
+of necessity had forced her into this quicksand of death; the
+indifference of a naturally generous community, robbed her of the light
+of intelligence, and left her a helpless victim in the hands of this
+cultivator of vice. How could she, orphan as she was called, and
+unencouraged, come to be a noble and generous-hearted woman? No one
+offered her the means to come up and ornament her sex; but tyrannical
+society neither forgets her misfortunes nor forgives her errors. Once
+seal the death-warrant of a woman's errors, and you have none to come
+forward and cancel it; the tomb only removes the seal. Anna took a
+liking to me, and was kind to me, and looked to me to protect her. And I
+loved her, and our love grew up, and strengthened; and being alike
+neglected in the world, our condition served as the strongest means of
+cementing our attachment.</p>
+
+<p>"Hag Zogbaum then sent Anna away to the house up the alley, in Elizabeth
+street, where she sent most of her girls when they had reached the age
+of eleven and twelve. Hag Zogbaum had many places for her female pupils.
+The very best looking always went a while to the house in the alley; the
+next best looking were sure to find their way into the hands of Miss
+Brown, in Little Water street, and Miss Brown, they said, sold them to
+the fairies of the South, who dressed them in velvet and gold; and the
+'scrubs,' as the old woman used to call the rest, got, by some
+mysterious process, into the hands of Paddy Pie and Tim Branahan, who
+kept shantees in Orange street.</p>
+
+<p>"Anna had been away some time, and Mr. Tom Toddleworth had several times
+been seen to look in and inquire for her. Mr. Toddleworth said he had a
+ripping bid for her. At that time I was ignorant of its meaning. Harry
+Rooney and me were sent to the house in Elizabeth street, one morning,
+to bring Anna and another girl home. The house was large, and had an air
+of neatness about it that contrasted strangely with the den in 'Scorpion
+Cove.' We rang the bell and inquired for the girls, who, after waiting
+nearly an hour, were sent down to us, clean and neatly dressed. In Anna
+the change was so great, that though I had loved her, and thought of her
+day and night during her absence, I scarce recognized her. So glad did
+she seem to see me that she burst into tears, flung her arms about my
+neck, and kissed me with the fondness of a sister. Then she recounted
+with childlike enthusiasm the kind treatment she had received at the
+house of Madame Harding (for such it was called), between whom and Hag
+Zogbaum there was carried on a species of business I am not inclined to
+designate here. Two kind and splendidly-dressed ladies, Anna said,
+called to see them nearly every day, and were going to take them away,
+that they might live like fairies all the rest of their lives.</p>
+
+<p>"When we got home, two ladies were waiting at the den. It was not the
+first time we had seen them at the den. Anna recognized them as the
+ladies she had seen at Madame Harding's. One was the woman who so kindly
+gave me the shilling in the market, when I was cold and hungry. A
+lengthy whispering took place between Hag Zogbaum and the ladies, and we
+were ordered into the back cellar. I knew the whispering was about Anna;
+and watching through the boards I heard the Hag say Anna was fourteen
+and nothing less, and saw one of the ladies draw from her purse numerous
+pieces of gold, which were slipped into her hand. In a few minutes more
+I saw poor little Anna follow her up the steps that led into 'Scorpion
+Cove.' When we were released Hag was serving ragged and dejected-looking
+men with gin and beer. Anna, she said when I inquired, had gone to a
+good home in the country. I loved her ardently, and being lonesome was
+not content with the statement of the old woman. I could not read, but
+had begun to think for myself, and something told me all was not right.
+For weeks and months I watched at the house in Leonard street, into
+which I had followed the woman who gave me the shilling. But I neither
+saw her nor the woman. Elegant carriages, and elegantly-dressed men
+drove to and from the door, and passed in and out of the house, and the
+house seemed to have a deal of fashionable customers, and that was all I
+knew of it then.</p>
+
+<p>"As I watched one night, a gentleman came out of the house, took me by
+the arm and shook me, said I was a loitering vagrant, that he had seen
+me before, and having a suspicious look he would order the watch to lock
+me up. He inquired where my home was; and when I told him it was in
+'Scorpion Cove,' he replied he didn't know where that was. I told him it
+wasn't much of a home, and he said I ought to have a better one. It was
+all very well to say so; but with me the case was different. That night
+I met Tom Farley, who was glad to see me, and told how he got out of the
+lock-up, and what he thought of the lock-up, and the jolly old Judge who
+sent him to the lock-up, and who he saw in the lock-up, and what
+mischief was concocted in the lock-up, and what he got to eat in the
+lock-up, and how the lock-up wasn't so bad a place after all.</p>
+
+<p>"The fact was I was inclined to think the lock-up not so bad a place to
+get into, seeing how they gave people something good to eat, and clothes
+to wear. Tom and me went into business together. We sold <i>Heralds</i> and
+Sunday papers, and made a good thing of it, and shared our earnings, and
+got enough to eat and some clothes. I took up my stand in Centre Market,
+and Tom took up his at Peck Slip. At night we would meet, count our
+earnings, and give them to Mr. Crogan, who kept the cellar in Water
+street, where we slept. I left Hag Zogbaum, who we got to calling the
+wizard. She got all we could earn or pilfer, and we got nothing for our
+backs but a few rags, and unwholesome fish and beer for our bellies. I
+thought of Anna day and night; I hoped to meet in Centre Market the
+woman who took her away.</p>
+
+<p>"I said no one ever looked in at the den in 'Scorpion Cove,' but there
+was a kind little man, with sharp black eyes, and black hair, and an
+earnest olive-colored face, and an earnester manner about him, who used
+to look in now and then, talk kindly to us, and tell us he wished he had
+a home for us all, and was rich enough to give us all enough to eat. He
+hated Hag Zogbaum, and Hag Zogbaum hated him; but we all liked him
+because he was kind to us, and used to shake his head, and say he would
+do something for us yet. Hag Zogbaum said he was always meddling with
+other people's business. At other times a man would come along and throw
+tracts in at the gate of the alley. We were ignorant of what they were
+intended for, and used to try to sell them at the Gibraltars. Nobody
+wanted them, and nobody could read at the den, so Hag Zogbaum lighted
+the fire with them, and that was the end of them.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I sold papers for nearly two years, and learned to read a little
+by so doing, and got up in the world a little; and being what was called
+smart, attracted the attention of a printer in Nassau street, who took
+me into his office, and did well by me. My mind was bent on getting a
+trade. I knew I could do well for myself with a trade to lean upon. Two
+years I worked faithfully at the printer's, was approaching manhood, and
+with the facilities it afforded me had not failed to improve my mind and
+get a tolerable good knowledge of the trade. But the image of Anna, and
+the singular manner in which she disappeared, made me unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>"On my return from dinner one day I met in Broadway the lady who took
+Anna away. The past and its trials flashed across my brain, and I turned
+and followed her&mdash;found that her home was changed to Mercer street, and
+this accounted for my fruitless watching in Leonard street.</p>
+
+<p>"The love of Anna, that had left its embers smouldering in my bosom,
+quickened, and seemed to burn with redoubled ardor. It was my first and
+only love; the sufferings of our childhood had made it lasting. My very
+emotion rose to action as I saw the woman I knew took her away. My
+anxiety to know her fate had no bounds. Dressing myself up as
+respectably as it was possible with my means, I took advantage of a dark
+and stormy night in the month of November to call at the house in Mercer
+street, into which I had traced the lady. I rung the bell; a
+sumptuously-dressed woman came to the door, which opened into a
+gorgeously-decorated hall. She looked at me with an inquiring eye and
+disdainful frown, inquired who I was and what I wanted. I confess I was
+nervous, for the dazzling splendor of the mansion produced in me a
+feeling of awe rather than admiration. I made known my mission as best I
+could; the woman said no such person had ever resided there. In that
+moment of disappointment I felt like casting myself away in despair. The
+associations of Scorpion Cove, of the house of the Nine Nations, of the
+Rookery, of Paddy Pie's&mdash;or any other den in that desert of death that
+engulphs the Points, seemed holding out a solace for the melancholy that
+weighed me down. But when I got back into Broadway my resolution gained
+strength, and with it I wept over the folly of my thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>"Led by curiosity, and the air of comfort pervading the well-furnished
+room, and the piously-disposed appearance of the persons who passed in
+and out, I had several times looked in at the house of the 'Foreign
+Missions,' as we used to call it. A man with a good-natured face used to
+sit in the chair, and a wise-looking little man in spectacles (the
+Secretary) used to sit a bit below him, and a dozen or two
+well-disposed persons of both sexes, with sharp and anxious
+countenances, used to sit round in a half circle, listening. The
+wise-looking man in the spectacles would, on motion of some one present,
+read a long report, which was generally made up of a list of donations
+and expenditures for getting up a scheme to evangelize the world, and
+get Mr. Singleton Spyke off to Antioch. It seemed to me as if a deal of
+time and money was expended on Mr. Singleton Spyke, and yet Mr. Spyke
+never got off to Antioch. When the man of the spectacles got through
+reading the long paper, and the good-natured man in the chair got
+through explaining that the heavy amount of twenty-odd thousand dollars
+had been judiciously expended for the salary of officers of the society,
+and the getting Brothers Spurn and Witherspoon off to enlighten the
+heathen, Brother Singleton Spyke's mission would come up. Every one
+agreed that there ought to be no delay in getting Brother Spyke off to
+Antioch; but a small deficiency always stood in the way. And Brother
+Spyke seemed spiked to this deficiency; for notwithstanding Mrs. Slocum,
+who was reckoned the strongest-minded woman, and best business-man of
+the society, always made speeches in favor of Brother Spyke and his
+mission (a special one), he never got off to Antioch.</p>
+
+<p>"Feeling forlorn, smarting under disappointment, and undecided where to
+go after I left the house in Mercer street, I looked in at the house of
+the 'Foreign Missions.' Mrs. Slocum, as I had many times before seen
+her, was warmly contesting a question concerning Brother Spyke, with the
+good-natured man in the chair. It was wrong, she said, so much money
+should be expended, and Brother Spyke not got off to Antioch. So leaving
+them debating Mr. Spyke's mission to Antioch, I proceeded back to the
+house in Mercer street, and inquired for the landlady of the house. The
+landlady, the woman that opened the door said, was engaged. The door was
+shut in my face, and I turned away more wounded in my feelings than
+before. Day and night I contemplated some plan by which to ascertain
+Anna's place of abode, her pursuit in life, her wants. When we parted
+she could neither write nor read: I had taken writing lessons, by which
+I could communicate tolerably well, while my occupation afforded me the
+means of improvement. A few weeks passed (I continued to watch the
+house), and I recognized her one afternoon, by her black, floating hair,
+sitting at a second-story window of the house in Mercer street, her back
+toward me. The sight was like electricity on my feelings; a transport of
+joy bore away my thoughts. I gazed, and continued to gaze upon the
+object, throwing, as it were, new passion into my soul. But it turned,
+and there was a changed face, a face more lovely, looking eagerly into a
+book. Looking eagerly into a book did not betray one who could not read.
+But there was that in my heart that prompted me to look on the favorable
+side of the doubt&mdash;to try a different expedient in gaining admittance to
+the house. When night came, I assumed a dress those who look on
+mechanics as vulgar people, would have said became a gentleman; and
+approaching the house, gained easy admittance. As I was about entering
+the great parlors, a familiar but somewhat changed voice at the top of
+the circling stairs that led from the hall caught my ear. I paused,
+listened, became entranced with suspense. Again it resounded&mdash;again my
+heart throbbed with joy. It was Anna's voice, so soft and musical. The
+woman who opened the door turned from me, and attempted to hush it. But
+Anna seemed indifferent to the admonition, for she tripped buoyantly
+down stairs, accompanying a gentleman to the door. I stood before her, a
+changed person. Her recognition of me was instantaneous. Her color
+changed, her lips quivered, her eyes filled with tears, her very soul
+seemed fired with emotions she had no power to resist. 'George
+Mullholland!' she exclaimed, throwing her arms about my neck, kissing
+me, and burying her head in my bosom, and giving vent to her feelings in
+tears and quickened sobs&mdash;'how I have thought of you, watched for you,
+and hoped for the day when we would meet again and be happy. Oh, George!
+George! how changed everything seems since we parted! It seems a long
+age, and yet our sufferings, and the fondness for each other that was
+created in that suffering, freshens in the mind. Dear, good George&mdash;my
+protector!' she continued, clinging to me convulsively. I took her in my
+arms (the scene created no little excitement in the house) and bore her
+away to her chamber, which was chastely furnished, displaying a correct
+taste, and otherwise suited to a princess. Having gained her presence of
+mind, and become calm, she commenced relating what had occurred since we
+parted at Scorpion Cove. I need not relate it at length here, for it was
+similar in character to what might be told by a thousand others if they
+were not powerless. For months she had been confined to the house, her
+love of dress indulged to the furthest extent, her mind polluted and
+initiated into the mysteries of refined licentiousness, her personal
+appearance scrupulously regarded, and made to serve the object of which
+she was a victim in the hands of the hostess, who made her the worse
+than slave to a banker of great respectability in Wall street. This
+good man and father was well down in the vale of years, had a mansion on
+Fifth Avenue, and an interesting and much-beloved family. He was, in
+addition, a prominent member of the commercial community; but his
+example to those more ready to imitate the errors of men in high
+positions, than to improve by the examples of the virtuous poor, was not
+what it should be. Though a child of neglect, and schooled to
+licentiousness under the very eye of a generous community, her natural
+sensibility recoiled at the thought that she was a mere object of prey
+to the passions of one she could not love.</p>
+
+<p>"She resolved to remain in this condition no longer, and escaped to
+Savannah with a young man whose acquaintance she had made at the house
+in Mercer street. For a time they lived at a respectable hotel, as
+husband and wife. But her antecedents got out, and they got notice to
+leave. The same fate met them in Charleston, to which city they removed.
+Her antecedents seemed to follow her wherever she went, like haunting
+spirits seeking her betrayal. She was homeless; and without a home there
+was nothing open to her but that vortex of licentiousness the world
+seemed pointing her to. Back she went to the house in Mercer street&mdash;was
+glad to get back; was at least free from the finger of scorn.
+Henceforward she associated with various friends, who sought her because
+of her transcendent charms. She had cultivated a natural intelligence,
+and her manners were such as might have become one in better society.
+But her heart's desire was to leave the house. I took her from it; and
+for a time I was happy to find that the contaminating weeds of vice had
+not overgrown the more sensitive buds of virtue.</p>
+
+<p>"I provided a small tenement in Centre street, such as my means would
+afford, and we started in the world, resolved to live respectably. But
+what had maintained me respectably was now found inadequate to the
+support of us both. Life in a house of sumptuous vice had rendered Anna
+incapable of adapting herself to the extreme of economy now forced upon
+us. Anna was taken sick; I was compelled to neglect my work, and was
+discharged. Discontent, embarrassment, and poverty resulted. I struggled
+to live for six months; but my prospects, my hopes of gaining an honest
+living, were gone. I had no money to join the society, and the trade
+being dull, could get nothing to do. Fate seemed driving us to the last
+stage of distress. One by one our few pieces of furniture, our clothing,
+and the few bits of jewelry Anna had presented her at the house in
+Mercer street, found their way to the sign of the Three Martyrs. The man
+of the eagle face would always lend something on them, and that
+something relieved us for the time. I many times thought, as I passed
+the house of the Foreign Missions in Centre street, where there was such
+an air of comfort, that if Mrs. Abijah Slocum, and the good-natured man
+who sat in the chair, and the wise little man in the spectacles, would
+condescend to look in at our little place, and instead of always talking
+about getting Mr. Singleton Spyke off to Antioch, take pity on our
+destitution, what a relief it would be. It would have made more hearts
+happy than Mr. Spyke, notwithstanding the high end of his mission, could
+have softened in ten years at Antioch.</p>
+
+<p>"Necessity, not inclination, forced Anna back into the house in Mercer
+street, when I became her friend, her transient protector. Her hand was
+as ready to bestow as her heart was warm and generous. She gave me
+money, and was kind to me; but the degraded character of my position
+caused me to despond, to yield myself a victim to insidious vice, to
+become the associate of men whose only occupation was that of gambling
+and 'roping-in' unsuspecting persons. I was not long in becoming an
+efficient in the arts these men practiced on the unwary. We used to meet
+at the 'Subterranean,' in Church street, and there concoct our mode of
+operations. And from this centre went forth, daily, men who lived by
+gambling, larceny, picking pockets, counterfeiting, and passing
+counterfeit money. I kept Anna ignorant of my associations. Nevertheless
+I was forced to get money, for I found her affections becoming
+perverted. At times her manner towards me was cold, and I sought to
+change it with money.</p>
+
+<p>"While thus pursuing a life so precarious and exciting, I used to look
+in at the 'Empire,' in Broadway, to see whom I could 'spot,' as we
+called it at the 'Subterranean.' And it was here I met poor Tom Swiggs,
+distracted and giving himself up to drink, in the fruitless search after
+the girl of his love, from whom he had been separated, as he said, by
+his mother. He had loved the girl, and the girl returned his love with
+all the sincerity and ardor of her soul. But she was poor, and of poor
+parents. And as such people were reckoned nothing in Charleston, his
+mother locked him up in jail, and she was got out of the way. Tom opened
+his heart to me, said foul means had been resorted to, and the girl had
+thrown herself away, because, while he was held in close confinement,
+falsehoods had been used to make her believe he had abandoned her. To
+have her an outcast on his account, to have her leading the life of an
+abandoned woman, and that with the more galling belief that he had
+forsaken her, was more than he could bear, and he was sinking under the
+burden. Instead of making him an object of my criminal profession, his
+story so touched my feelings that I became his protector, saw him to his
+lodgings in Green street, and ultimately got him on board a vessel bound
+to Charleston.</p>
+
+<p>"Not many weeks after this, I, being moneyless, was the principal of a
+plot by which nearly a thousand dollars was got of the old man in Wall
+street, who had been Anna's friend; and fearing it might get out, I
+induced her to accompany me to Charleston, where she believed I had a
+prospect of bettering my condition, quitting my uncertain mode of
+living, and becoming a respectable man. Together we put up at the
+Charleston Hotel. But necessity again forced me to reveal to her my
+circumstances, and the real cause of my leaving New York. Her hopes of
+shaking off the taint of her former life seemed blasted; but she bore
+the shock with resignation, and removed with me to the house of Madame
+Flamingo, where we for a time lived privately. But the Judge sought her
+out, followed her with the zeal of a knight, and promised, if she would
+forsake me, to be her protector; to provide for her and maintain her
+like a lady during her life. What progress he has made in carrying out
+his promise you have seen. The English baronet imposed her upon the St.
+Cecilia, and the Judge was the first to betray her."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XI.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>IN WHICH THE READER IS INTRODUCED TO MR. ABSALOM McARTHUR.</p>
+
+
+<p>You must know, reader, that King street is our Boulevard of fashion; and
+though not the handsomest street in the world, nor the widest, nor the
+best paved, nor the most celebrated for fine edifices, we so cherish its
+age and dignity that we would not for the world change its provincial
+name, or molest one of the hundred old tottering buildings that daily
+threaten a dissolution upon its pavement, or permit a wench of doubtful
+blood to show her head on the "north sidewalk" during promenade hours.
+We are, you see, curiously nice in matters of color, and we should be.
+You may not comprehend the necessity for this scrupulous regard to
+caste; others do not, so you are not to blame for your ignorance of the
+customs of an atmosphere you have only breathed through novels written
+by steam. We don't (and you wouldn't) like to have our wives meet our
+slightly-colored mistresses. And we are sure you would not like to have
+your highly-educated and much-admired daughters meet those cream-colored
+material evidences of your folly&mdash;called by Northern "fanatics" their
+half-sisters! You would not! And your wives, like sensible women, as our
+wives and daughters are, would, if by accident they did meet them, never
+let you have a bit of sleep until you sent them to old Graspum's
+flesh-market, had them sold, and the money put safely into their hands.
+We do these things just as you would; and our wives being philosophers,
+and very fashionable withal, put the money so got into fine dresses, and
+a few weeks' stay at some very select watering-place in the North. If
+your wife be very accomplished, (like ours,) and your daughters much
+admired for their beauty, (like ours,) they will do as ours did&mdash;put
+wisely the cash got for their detestable relatives into a journey of
+inspection over Europe. So, you see, we keep our fashionable side of
+King street; and woe be to the shady mortal that pollutes its bricks!</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Absalom McArthur lives on the unfashionable side of this street, in
+a one-story wooden building, with a cottage roof, covered with thick,
+black moss, and having two great bow windows, and a very lean door,
+painted black, in front. It is a rummy old house to look at, for the
+great bow windows are always ornamented with old hats, which Mr.
+McArthur makes supply the place of glass; and the house itself,
+notwithstanding it keeps up the dignity of a circular window over the
+door, reminds one of that valiant and very notorious characteristic of
+the State, for it has, during the last twenty or more years, threatened
+(but never done it) to tumble upon the unfashionable pavement, just in
+like manner as the State has threatened (but never done it!) to tumble
+itself out of our unfashionable Union. We are a great people, you see;
+but having the impediment of the Union in the way of displaying our
+might, always stand ready to do what we never intended to do. We speak
+in that same good-natured sense and metaphor used by our politicians,
+(who are become very distinguished in the refined arts of fighting and
+whiskey-drinking,) when they call for a rope to put about the neck of
+every man not sufficiently stupid to acknowledge himself a secessionist.
+We imagine ourselves the gigantic and sublime theatre of chivalry, as we
+have a right to do; we raise up heroes of war and statesmanship,
+compared with whom your Napoleons, Mirabeaus, and Marats&mdash;yes, even your
+much-abused Roman orators and Athenian philosophers, sink into mere
+insignificance. Nor are we bad imitators of that art displayed by the
+Roman soldiers, when they entered the Forum and drenched it with
+Senatorial blood! Pardon this digression, reader.</p>
+
+<p>Of a summer morning you will see McArthur, the old Provincialist, as he
+is called, arranging in his great bow windows an innumerable variety of
+antique relics, none but a Mrs. Toodles could conceive a want for&mdash;such
+as broken pots, dog-irons, fenders, saws, toasters, stew-pans, old
+muskets, boxing-gloves and foils, and sundry other odds and ends too
+numerous to mention. At evening he sits in his door, a clever picture of
+a by-gone age, on a venerable old sofa, supported on legs tapering into
+feet of lion's paws, and carved in mahogany, all tacked over with
+brass-headed nails. Here the old man sits, and sits, and sits, reading
+the "Heroes of the Revolution," (the only book he ever reads,) and
+seemingly ready at all times to serve the "good wishes" of his
+customers, who he will tell you are of the very first families, and very
+distinguished! He holds distinguished peoples in high esteem; and
+several distinguished persons have no very bad opinion of him, but a
+much better one of his very interesting daughter, whose acquaintance
+(though not a lady, in the Southern acceptation of the term) they would
+not object to making&mdash;provided!</p>
+
+<p>His little shop is lumbered with boxes and barrels, all containing
+relics of a by-gone age&mdash;such as broken swords, pistols of curious make,
+revolutionary hand-saws, planes, cuirasses, broken spurs, blunderbusses,
+bowie, scalping, and hunting-knives; all of which he declares our great
+men have a use for. Hung on a little post, and over a pair of rather
+suspicious-looking buckskin breeches, is a rusty helmet, which he
+sincerely believes was worn by a knight of the days of William the
+Conqueror. A little counter to the left staggers under a pile of musty
+old books and mustier papers, all containing valuable matter relating to
+the old Continentals, who, as he has it, were all Carolinians. (Dispute
+this, and he will go right into a passion.) Resting like good-natured
+policemen against this weary old counter are two sympathetic old
+coffins, several second-hand crutches, and a quantity of much-neglected
+wooden legs. These Mr. McArthur says are in great demand with our first
+families. No one, except Mr. Soloman Snivel, knows better what the
+chivalry stand in need of to prop up its declining dignity. His dirty
+little shelves, too, are stuffed with those cheap uniforms the State so
+grudgingly voted its unwilling volunteers during the Revolution.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>
+Tucked in here and there, at sixes and sevens, are the scarlet and blue
+of several suits of cast-off theatrical wardrobe he got of Abbott, and
+now loans for a small trifle to Madame Flamingo and the St. Cecilia
+Society&mdash;the first, when she gives her very seductive <i>balmasques</i>; the
+second, when distinguished foreigners with titles honor its costume
+balls. As for Revolutionary cocked hats, epaulettes, plumes, and
+holsters, he has enough to supply and send off, feeling as proud as
+peacocks, every General and Colonel in the State&mdash;and their name, as
+you ought to know, reader, is legion.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger might, indeed, be deceived into the belief that Absalom
+McArthur's curiosity shop was capable of furnishing accoutrements for
+that noble little army, (standing army we call it!) on which the State
+prides itself not a little, and spends no end of money. For ourselves,
+(if the reader but permit us,) we have long admired this little Spartan
+force, saying all the good things of it our prosy brain could invent,
+and in the kindest manner recommending its uniform good character as a
+model for our very respectable society to fashion after. Indeed, we
+have, in the very best nature of a modern historian, endeavored to
+enlighten the barbarian world outside of South Carolina as to the
+terrible consequences which might accrue to the Union did this noble
+little army assume any other than a standing character. Now that General
+Jackson is out of the way, and our plebeian friends over the Savannah,
+whom we hold in high esteem, (the Georgians,) kindly consent to let us
+go our own road out of the Union, nothing can be more grateful than to
+find our wise politicians sincerely believing that when this standing
+army, of which other States know so little, shall have become allied
+with those mighty men of Beaufort, dire consequences to this young but
+very respectable Federal compact will be the result. Having discharged
+the duties of a historian, for the benefit of those benighted beings
+unfortunate enough to live out of our small but highly-civilized State,
+we must return to McArthur.</p>
+
+<p>He is a little old-maidish about his age, which for the last twenty
+years has not got a day more than fifty-four. Being as sensitive of his
+veracity as the State is of its dignity, we would not, either by
+implication or otherwise, lay an impeachment at his door, but rather
+charge the discrepancy to that sin (a treacherous memory) the legal
+gentry find so convenient for their purposes when they knock down their
+own positions. McArthur stood five feet eight exactly, when young, but
+age has made him lean of person, and somewhat bent. His face is long and
+corrugated; his expression of countenance singularly serious. A nose,
+neither aquiline nor Grecian, but large enough, and long enough, and red
+enough at the end, to make both; a sharp and curiously-projecting chin,
+that threatens a meeting, at no very distant day, with his nasal organ;
+two small, watchful blue eyes deep-set under narrow arches, fringed with
+long gray lashes; a deeply-furrowed, but straight and contracted
+forehead, and a shaggy red wig, poised upon the crown of his head, and,
+reader, if you except the constant working of a heavy, drooping lower
+lip, and the diagonal sight with which his eyes are favored, you have
+his most prominent features. Fashion he holds in utter contempt, nor has
+he the very best opinion in the world of our fashionable tailors, who
+are grown so rich that they hold mortgages on the very best plantations
+in the State, and offer themselves candidates for the Governorship.
+Indeed, Mr. McArthur says, one of these knights of the goose, not long
+since, had the pertinacity to imagine himself a great General. And to
+show his tenacious adherence to the examples set by the State, he
+dresses exactly as his grandfather's great-grandfather used to, in a
+blue coat, with small brass buttons, a narrow crimpy collar, and tails
+long enough and sharp enough for a clipper-ship's run. The periods when
+he provided himself with new suits are so far apart that they formed
+special episodes in his history; nevertheless there is always an air of
+neatness about him, and he will spend much time arranging a dingy
+ruffled shirt, a pair of gray trowsers, a black velvet waistcoat, cut in
+the Elizabethan style, and a high, square shirt collar, into which his
+head has the appearance of being jammed. This collar he ties with a
+much-valued red and yellow Spittlefields, the ends of which flow over
+his ruffle. Although the old man would not bring much at the
+man-shambles, we set a great deal of store by him, and would not
+exchange him for anything in the world but a regiment or two of heroic
+secessionists. Indeed we are fully aware that nothing like him exists
+beyond the highly perfumed atmosphere of our State. And to many other
+curious accomplishments the old man adds that of telling fortunes. The
+negroes seriously believe he has a private arrangement with the devil,
+of whom he gets his wisdom, and the secret of propitiating the gods.</p>
+
+<p>Two days have passed since the <i>emeute</i> at the house of the old hostess.
+McArthur has promised the young missionary a place for Tom Swiggs, when
+he gets out of prison (but no one but his mother seems to have a right
+to let him out), and the tall figure of Mister Snivel is seen entering
+the little curiosity shop. "I say!&mdash;my old hero, has she been here yet?"
+inquires Mr. Snivel, the accommodation man. "Nay, good friend," returns
+the old man, rising from his sofa, and returning the salutation, "she
+has not yet darkened the door." The old man draws the steel-bowed
+spectacles from his face, and watches with a patriarchal air any change
+that comes over the accommodation man's countenance. "Now, good friend,
+if I did but know the plot," pursues the old man.</p>
+
+<p>"The plot you are not to know! I gave you her history yesterday&mdash;that
+is, as far as I know it. You must make up the rest. You know how to tell
+fortunes, old boy. I need not instruct you. Mind you flatter her beauty,
+though&mdash;extend on the kindness of the Judge, and be sure you get it in
+that it was me who betrayed her at the St. Cecelia. All right old boy,
+eh?" and shaking McArthur by the hand warmly, he takes his departure,
+bowing himself into the street. The old man says he will be all ready
+when she comes.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely has the accommodation man passed out of sight when a
+sallow-faced stripling makes his appearance, and with that
+characteristic effrontery for borrowing and never returning, of the
+property-man of a country theatre, "desires" to know if Mr. McArthur
+will lend him a skull.</p>
+
+<p>"A skull!" ejaculates the old man, his bony fingers wandering to his
+melancholy lip&mdash;"a skull!" and he fusses studiously round the little
+cell-like place, looking distrustfully at the property-man, and then
+turning an anxious eye towards his piles of rubbish, as if fearing some
+plot is on foot to remove them to the infernal regions.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," interrupts Mr. Property, "we play Hamlet to-night&mdash;expect a
+crammed house&mdash;and our star, being scrupulous of his reputation, as all
+small stars are, won't go on for the scene of the grave-digger, without
+two skulls&mdash;he swears he won't! He raised the very roof of the theatre
+this morning, because his name wasn't in bigger type on the bill. And if
+we don't give him two skulls and plenty of bones to-night, he
+swears&mdash;and such swearing as it is!&mdash;he'll forfeit the manager, have the
+house closed, and come out with a card to the public in the morning. We
+are in a fix, you see! The janitor only has one, and he lent us that as
+if he didn't want to."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. McArthur says he sees, and with an air of regained wisdom stops
+suddenly, and takes from a shelf a dingy old board, on which is a
+dingier paper, bearing curious inscriptions, no one but the old man
+himself would have supposed to be a schedule of stock in trade. Such it
+is, nevertheless. He rubs his spectacles, places them methodically upon
+his face, wipes and wipes the old board with his elbow. "It's here if
+it's anywhere!" says the old man, with a sigh. "It comes into my head
+that among the rest of my valuables I've Yorick's skull."</p>
+
+<p>"The very skull we want!" interrupts Property. And the old man quickens
+the working of his lower jaw, and continues to rub at the board until he
+has brought out the written mystery. "My ancestors were great people,"
+he mumbles to himself, "great people!" He runs the crusty forefinger of
+his right hand up and down the board, adding, "and my customers are all
+of the first families, which is some consolation in one's poverty. Ah! I
+have it here!" he exclaims, with childlike exultation, frisking his
+fingers over the board. "One Yorick's skull&mdash;a time-worn, tenantless,
+and valuable relic, in which graveyard worms have banqueted more than
+once. Yes, young man, presented to my ancestors by the elder Stuarts,
+and on that account worth seven skulls, or more." "One Yorick's skull,"
+is written on the paper, upon which the old man presses firmly his
+finger. Then turning to an old box standing in the little fireplace
+behind the counter, saying, "it's in here&mdash;as my name's Absalom
+McArthur, it is," he opens the lid, and draws forth several old military
+coats (they have seen revolutionary days! he says, exultingly), numerous
+scales of brass, such as are worn on British soldiers' hats, a ponderous
+chapeau and epaulets, worn, he insists, by Lord Nelson at the renowned
+battle of Trafalgar. He has not opened, he adds, this box for more than
+twelve long years. Next he drags forth a military cloak of great weight
+and dimensions. "Ah!" he exclaims, with nervous joy, "here's the
+identical cloak worn by Lord Cornwallis&mdash;how my ancestors used to prize
+it." And as he unrolls its great folds there falls upon the floor, to
+his great surprise, an old buff-colored silk dress, tied firmly with a
+narrow, green ribbon. "Maria! Maria! Maria!" shouts the old man, as if
+suddenly seized with a spasm. And his little gray eyes flash with
+excitement, as he says&mdash;"if here hasn't come to light at last, poor Mag
+Munday's dress. God forgive the poor wretch, she's dead and gone, no
+doubt." In response to the name of "Maria" there protrudes from a little
+door that opens into a passage leading to a back-room, the delicate
+figure of a female, with a face of great paleness, overcast by a
+thoughtful expression. She has a finely-developed head, intelligent blue
+eyes, light auburn hair, and features more interesting than regular.
+Indeed, there is more to admire in the peculiar modesty of her demeanor
+than in the regularity of her features, as we shall show. "My daughter!"
+says the old man, as she nervously advances, her pale hand extended.
+"Poor woman! how she would mourn about this old dress; and say it
+contained something that might give her a chance in the world," she
+rather whispers than speaks, disclosing two rows of small white teeth.
+She takes from the old man's hand the package, and disappears. The
+anxiety she evinces over the charge discloses the fact that there is
+something of deep interest connected with it.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. McArthur was about to relate how he came by this seemingly
+worthless old package, when the property-man, becoming somewhat
+restless, and not holding in over high respect the old man's rubbish, as
+he called it in his thoughts, commences drawing forth, piece after piece
+of the old relics. The old man will not allow this. "There, young man!"
+he says, touching him on the elbow, and resuming his labor. At length he
+draws forth the dust-tenanted skull, coated on the outer surface with
+greasy mould. "There!" he says, with an unrestrained exclamation of joy,
+holding up the wasting bone, "this was in its time poor Yorick's skull.
+It was such a skull, when Yorick lived! Beneath this filthy remnant of
+past greatness (I always think of greatness when I turn to the past),
+this empty tenement, once the domain of wisdom, this poor bone, what
+thoughts did not come out?" And the old man shakes his head, mutters
+inarticulately, and weeps with the simplicity of a child.</p>
+
+<p>"The Star'll have skulls and bones enough to make up for his want of
+talent now&mdash;I reckon," interposes the property-man. "But!&mdash;I say,
+mister, this skull couldn't a bin old Yorick's, you know&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yorick's!&mdash;why not?" interrupts the old man.</p>
+
+<p>"Because Yorick&mdash;Yorick was the King's jester, you see&mdash;no nigger; and
+no one would think of importing anything but a nigger's skull into
+Charleston&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Young man!&mdash;if this skull had consciousness; if this had a tongue it
+would rebuke thee;" the old man retorts hastily, "for my ancestors knew
+Yorick, and Yorick kept up an intimate acquaintance with the ancestors
+of the very first families in this State, who were not shoemakers and
+milliners, as hath been maliciously charged, but good and pious
+Huguenots." To the end that he may convince the unbelieving Thespian of
+the truth of his assertion, he commences to rub away the black coating
+with the sleeve of his coat, and there, to his infinite delight, is
+written, across the crown, in letters of red that stand out as bold as
+the State's chivalry&mdash;"Alas! poor Yorick." Tears of sympathy trickle
+down the old man's cheeks, his eyes sparkle with excitement, and with
+womanly accents he mutters: "the days of poetry and chivalry are gone.
+It is but a space of time since this good man's wit made Kings and
+Princes laugh with joy."</p>
+
+<p>This skull, and a coral pin, which he said was presented to his
+ancestors by Lord Cornwallis, who they captured, now became his hobby;
+and he referred to it in all his conversation, and made them as much his
+idol as our politicians do secession. In this instance, he dare not
+entrust his newly-discovered jewel to the vulgar hands of Mr. Property,
+but pledged his honor&mdash;a ware the State deals largely in notwithstanding
+it has become exceedingly cheap&mdash;it would be forthcoming at the
+requisite time.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XII.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>IN WHICH ARE MATTERS THE READER MAY HAVE ANTICIPATED.</p>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Soloman Snivel has effected a reconciliation between old Judge
+Sleepyhorn and the beautiful Anna Bonard, and he has flattered the
+weak-minded George Mullholland into a belief that the old Judge, as he
+styles him, is his very best friend. So matters go on swimmingly at the
+house of Madame Flamingo. Indeed Mr. Soloman can make himself extremely
+useful in any affair requiring the exercise of nice diplomatic skill&mdash;no
+matter whether it be of love or law. He gets people into debt, and out
+of debt; into bankruptcy and out of bankruptcy; into jail and out of
+jail; into society and out of society. He has officiated in almost every
+capacity but that of a sexton. If you want money, Mr. Soloman can always
+arrange the little matter for you. If you have old negroes you want to
+get off your hands at a low figure, he has a customer. If you want to
+mortgage your negro property, a thing not uncommon with our very first
+families, Mr. Soloman is your man. Are you worth a fee, and want legal
+advice, he will give it exactly to your liking. Indeed, he will lie you
+into the most hopeless suit, and with equal pertinacity lie you out of
+the very best. Every judge is his friend and most intimate acquaintance.
+He is always rollicking, frisking, and insinuating himself into
+something, affects to be the most liberal sort of a companion, never
+refuses to drink when invited, but never invites any one unless he has a
+motive beyond friendship. Mr. Keepum, the wealthy lottery broker, who
+lives over the way, in Broad street, in the house with the mysterious
+signs, is his money-man. This Keepum, the man with the sharp visage and
+guilty countenance, has an excellent standing in society, having got it
+as the reward of killing two men. Neither of these deeds of heroism,
+however, were the result of a duel. Between these worthies there exists
+relations mutually profitable, if not the most honorable. And
+notwithstanding Mr. Soloman is forever sounding Mr. Keepum's generosity,
+the said Keepum has a singular faculty for holding with a firm grasp all
+he gets, the extent of his charities being a small mite now and then to
+Mr. Hadger, the very pious agent for the New York Presbyterian Tract
+Society. Mr. Hadger, who by trading in things called negroes, and such
+like wares, has become a man of great means, twice every year badgers
+the community in behalf of this society, and chuckles over what he gets
+of Keepum, as if a knave's money was a sure panacea for the cure of
+souls saved through the medium of those highly respectable tracts the
+society publishes to suit the tastes of the god slavery. Mr. Keepum,
+too, has a very high opinion of this excellent society, as he calls it,
+and never fails to boast of his contributions.</p>
+
+<p>It is night. The serene and bright sky is hung with brighter stars. Our
+little fashionable world has got itself arrayed in its best satin&mdash;and
+is in a flutter. Carriages, with servants in snobby coats, beset the
+doors of the theatre. A flashing of silks, satins, brocades, tulle and
+jewelry, distinguished the throng pressing eagerly into the lobbies,
+and seeking with more confusion than grace seats in the dress circle.
+The orchestra has played an overture, and the house presents a lively
+picture of bright-colored robes. Mr. Snivel's handsome figure is seen
+looming out of a private box in the left-hand proceniums, behind the
+curtain of which, and on the opposite side, a mysterious hand every now
+and then frisks, makes a small but prudent opening, and disappears.
+Again it appears, with delicate and chastely-jeweled fingers. Cautiously
+the red curtain moves aside apace, and the dark languishing eyes of a
+female, scanning over the dress-circle, are revealed. She recognizes the
+venerable figure of Judge Sleepyhorn, who has made a companion of George
+Mullholland, and sits at his side in the parquette. Timidly she closes
+the curtain.</p>
+
+<p>In the right-hand procenium box sits, resplendent of jewels and laces,
+and surrounded by her many admirers, the beautiful and very fashionable
+Madame Montford, a woman of singularly regular features, and more than
+ordinary charms. Opinion is somewhat divided on the early history of
+Madame Montford. Some have it one thing, some another. Society is sure
+to slander a woman of transcendent beauty and intellect. There is
+nothing in the world more natural, especially when those charms attract
+fashionable admirers. It is equally true, too, that if you would wipe
+out any little taint that may hang about the skirts of your character
+you must seek the panacea in a distant State, where, with the
+application of a little diplomacy you may become the much sought for
+wonder of a new atmosphere and new friends, as is the case with Madame
+Montford, who rebukes her New York neighbors of the Fifth Avenue (she
+has a princely mansion there), with the fact that in Charleston she is,
+whenever she visits it, the all-absorbing topic with fashionable
+society. For four successive winters Madame Montford has honored the
+elite of Charleston with her presence. The advent of her coming, too,
+has been duly heralded in the morning papers&mdash;to the infinite delight of
+the St. Cecilia Society, which never fails to distinguish her arrival
+with a ball. And this ball is sure to be preceded with no end of
+delicately-perfumed cards, and other missives, as full of compliments as
+it is capable of cramming them. There is, notwithstanding all these
+ovations in honor of her coming, a mystery hanging over her periodical
+visits, for the sharp-eyed persist that they have seen her disguised,
+and in suspicious places, making singular inquiries about a woman of the
+name of Mag Munday. And these suspicions have given rise to whisperings,
+and these whisperings have crept into the ears of several very old and
+highly-respectable "first families," which said families have suddenly
+dropped her acquaintance. But what is more noticeable in the features of
+Madame Montford, is the striking similarity between them and Anna
+Bonard's. Her most fervent admirers have noticed it; while strangers
+have not failed to discover it, and to comment upon it. And the girl who
+sits in the box with Mr. Snivel, so cautiously fortifying herself with
+the curtain, is none other than Anna. Mr. Snivel has brought her here as
+an atonement for past injuries.</p>
+
+<p>Just as the curtain is about to rise, Mr. McArthur, true to his word,
+may be seen toddling to the stage door, his treasure carefully tied up
+in a handkerchief. He will deliver it to no one but the manager, and in
+spite of his other duties that functionary is compelled to receive it in
+person. This done, the old man, to the merriment of certain wags who
+delight to speculate on his childlike credulity, takes a seat in the
+parquette, wipes clean his venerable spectacles, and placing them
+methodically over his eyes, forms a unique picture in the foreground of
+the audience. McArthur, with the aid of his glasses, can recognize
+objects at a distance; and as the Hamlet of the night is decidedly
+Teutonic in his appearance and pronunciation, he has no great relish for
+the Star, nor a hand of applause to bestow on his genius. Hamlet, he is
+sure, never articulated with a coarse brogue. So turning from the stage,
+he amuses himself with minutely scanning the faces of the audience, and
+resolving in his mind that something will turn up in the grave-digger's
+scene, of which he is an enthusiastic admirer. It is, indeed, he thinks
+to himself, very doubtful, whether in this wide world the much-abused
+William Shakspeare hath a more ardent admirer of this curious but
+faithful illustration of his genius. Suddenly his attention seems
+riveted on the private box, in which sits the stately figure of Madame
+Montford, flanked in a half-circle by her perfumed and white-gloved
+admirers. "What!" exclaims the old man, in surprise, rubbing and
+replacing his glasses, "if I'm not deceived! Well&mdash;I can't be. If there
+isn't the very woman, a little altered, who has several times looked
+into my little place of an evening. Her questions were so curious that I
+couldn't make out what she really wanted (she never bought anything);
+but she always ended with inquiring about poor Mag Munday. People think
+because I have all sorts of things, that I must know about all sorts of
+things. I never could tell her much that satisfied her, for Mag, report
+had it, was carried off by the yellow fever, and nobody ever thought of
+her afterwards. And because I couldn't tell this woman any more, she
+would go away with tears in her eyes." Mr. McArthur whispers to a friend
+on his right, and touches him on the arm, "Pooh! pooh!" returns the man,
+with measured indifference, "that's the reigning belle of the
+season&mdash;Madame Montford, the buxom widow, who has been just turned forty
+for some years."</p>
+
+<p>The play proceeds, and soon the old man's attention is drawn from the
+Widow Montford by the near approach to the scene of the grave-digger.
+And as that delineator enters the grave, and commences his tune, the old
+man's anxiety increases.</p>
+
+<p>A twitching and shrugging of the shoulders, discovers Mr. McArthur's
+feelings. The grave-digger, to the great delight of the Star, bespreads
+the stage with a multiplicity of bones. Then he follows them with a
+skull, the appearance of which causes Mr. McArthur to exclaim, "Ah!
+that's my poor Yorick." He rises from his seat, and abstractedly stares
+at the Star, then at the audience. The audience gives out a spontaneous
+burst of applause, which the Teutonic Hamlet is inclined to regard as an
+indignity offered to superior talent. A short pause and his face
+brightens with a smile, the grave-digger shoulders his pick, and with
+the thumb of his right hand to his nasal organ, throws himself into a
+comical attitude. The audience roar with delight; the Star, ignorant of
+the cause of what he esteems a continued insult, waves his plumes to the
+audience, and with an air of contempt walks off the stage.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XIII.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>MRS. SWIGGS COMES TO THE RESCUE OF THE HOUSE OF THE FOREIGN MISSIONS.</p>
+
+
+<p>"An excellent society&mdash;excellent, I assure you, Madame&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Truly, Mr. Hadger," interrupted Mrs. Swiggs, "your labors on behalf of
+this Tract Society will be rewarded in heaven&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Dear-a-me," Mr. Hadger returns, ere Mrs. Swiggs can finish her
+sentence, "don't mention such a thing. I assure you it is a labor of
+love."</p>
+
+<p>"Their tracts are so carefully got up. If my poor old negro property
+could only read&mdash;(Mrs. Swiggs pauses.) I was going to say&mdash;if it wasn't
+for the law (again she pauses), we couldn't prejudice our cause by
+letting our negroes read them&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Excuse the interruption," Mr. Hadger says, "but it wouldn't, do,
+notwithstanding (no one can be more liberal than myself on the subject
+of enlightening our negro property!) the Tract Society exhibits such an
+unexceptionable regard to the requirements of our cherished institution."</p>
+
+<p>This conversation passes between Mrs. Swiggs and Mr. Hadger, who, as he
+says with great urbanity of manner, just dropped in to announce joyous
+tidings. He has a letter from Sister Abijah Slocum, which came to hand
+this morning, enclosing one delicately enveloped for Sister Swiggs.
+"The Lord is our guide," says Mrs. Swiggs, hastily reaching out her hand
+and receiving the letter. "Heaven will reward her for the interest she
+takes in the heathen world."</p>
+
+<p>"Truly, if she hath not now, she will have there a monument of gold,"
+Mr. Hadger piously pursues, adding a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"There! there!&mdash;my neuralgy; it's all down my left side. I'm not long
+for this world, you see!" Mrs. Swiggs breaks out suddenly, then twitches
+her head and oscillates her chin. And as if some electric current had
+changed the train of her thoughts, she testily seizes hold of her
+Milton, and says: "I have got my Tom up again&mdash;yes I have, Mr. Hadger."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hadger discovers the sudden flight her thoughts have taken: "I am
+sure," he interposes, "that so long as Sister Slocum remains a member of
+the Tract Society we may continue our patronage."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Swiggs is pleased to remind Mr. Hadger, that although her means
+have been exceedingly narrowed down, she has not, for the last ten
+years, failed to give her mite, which she divides between the house of
+the "Foreign Missions," and the "Tract Society."</p>
+
+<p>A nice, smooth-faced man, somewhat clerically dressed, straight and
+portly of person, and most unexceptionable in his morals, is Mr. Hadger.
+A smile of Christian resignation and brotherly love happily ornaments
+his countenance; and then, there is something venerable about his
+nicely-combed gray whiskers, his white cravat, his snowy hair, his mild
+brown eyes, and his pleasing voice. One is almost constrained to receive
+him as the ideal of virtue absolved in sackcloth and ashes. As an
+evidence of our generosity, we regard him an excellent Christian, whose
+life hath been purified with an immense traffic in human&mdash;&mdash;(perhaps
+some good friend will crack our skull for saying it).</p>
+
+<p>In truth (though we never could find a solution in the Bible for it), as
+the traffic in human property increased Mr. Hadger's riches, so also did
+it in a corresponding ratio increase his piety. There is, indeed, a
+singular connection existing between piety and slavery; but to analyze
+it properly requires the mind of a philosopher, so strange is the
+blending.</p>
+
+<p>Brother Hadger takes a sup of ice-water, and commences reading Sister
+Slocum's letter, which runs thus:</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;">
+"<span class="smcap">New York</span>, May &mdash;, 1850.</p>
+<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Brother Hadger</span>:
+</p>
+
+<p>"Justice and Mercy is the motto of the cause we have lent our hands and
+hearts to promote. Only yesterday we had a gathering of kind spirits at
+the Mission House in Centre street, where, thank God, all was peace and
+love. We had, too, an anxious gathering at the 'Tract Society's rooms.'
+There it was not so much peace and love as could have been desired.
+Brother Bight seemed earnest, but said many unwise things; and Brother
+Scratch let out some very unwise indiscretions which you will find in
+the reports I send. There was some excitement, and something said about
+what we got from the South not being of God's chosen earnings. And there
+was something more let off by our indiscreet Brothers against the
+getting up of the tracts. But we had a majority, and voted down our
+indiscreet Brothers, inasmuch as it was shown to be necessary not to
+offend our good friends in the South. Not to give offence to a Brother
+is good in the sight of the Lord, and this Brother Primrose argued in a
+most Christian speech of four long hours or more, and which had the
+effect of convincing every one how necessary it was to free the <i>tracts</i>
+of everything offensive to your cherished institution. And though we did
+not, Brother Hadger, break up in the continuance of that love we were
+wont to when you were among us, we sustained the principle that seemeth
+most acceptable to you&mdash;we gained the victory over our disaffected
+Brothers. And I am desired on behalf of the Society, to thank you for
+the handsome remittance, hoping you will make it known, through peace
+and love, to those who kindly contributed toward it. The Board of
+'Foreign Missions,' as you will see by the report, also passed a vote of
+thanks for your favor. How grateful to think what one will do to
+enlighten the heathen world, and how many will receive a tract through
+the medium of the other.</p>
+
+<p>"We are now in want of a few thousand dollars, to get the Rev. Singleton
+Spyke, a most excellent person, off to Antioch. Aid us with a mite,
+Brother Hadger, for his mission is one of God's own. The enclosed letter
+is an appeal to Sister Swiggs, whose yearly mites have gone far, very
+far, to aid us in the good but mighty work now to be done. Sister Swiggs
+will have her reward in heaven for these her good gifts. How thankful
+should she be to Him who provides all things, and thus enableth her to
+bestow liberally.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, Brother, I must say adieu! May you continue to live in the
+spirit of Christian love. And may you never feel the want of these mites
+bestowed in the cause of the poor heathen.</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;">
+"<span class="smcap">Sister Abijah Slocum.</span>"
+</p>
+
+<p>"May the good be comforted!" ejaculates Mrs. Swiggs, as Mr. Hadger
+concludes. She has listened with absorbed attention to every word, at
+times bowing, and adding a word of approval. Mr. Hadger hopes something
+may be done in this good cause, and having interchanged sundry
+compliments, takes his departure, old Rebecca opening the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad he's gone!" the old lady says to herself. "I am so anxious to hear
+the good tidings Sister Slocum's letter conveys." She wipes and wipes
+her venerable spectacles, adjusts them piquantly over her small, wicked
+eyes, gives her elaborate cap-border a twitch forward, frets her finger
+nervously over the letter, and gets herself into a general state of
+confritteration. "There!" she says, entirely forgetting her Milton,
+which has fallen on the floor, to the great satisfaction of the worthy
+old cat, who makes manifest his regard for it by coiling himself down
+beside it, "God bless her. It makes my heart leap with joy when I see
+her writing," she pursues, as old Rebecca stands contemplating her, with
+serious and sullen countenance. Having prilled and fussed over the
+letter, she commences reading in a half whisper:</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;">
+"<span class="smcap">No. &mdash;,4th Avenue, New York</span>,</p>
+<p style="margin-left: 29em;">May &mdash;, 1850.</p>
+<p>
+"<span class="smcap">Much Beloved Sister:</span>
+</p>
+
+<p>"I am, as you know, always overwhelmed with business; and having hoped
+the Lord in his goodness yet spares you to us, and gives you health and
+bounty wherewith to do good, must be pardoned for my brevity. The Lord
+prospers our missions among the heathen, and the Tract Society continues
+to make its labors known throughout the country. It, as you will see by
+the tracts I send herewith, still continues that scrupulous regard to
+the character of your domestic institution which has hitherto
+characterized it. Nothing is permitted to creep into them that in any
+way relates to your domestics, or that can give pain to the delicate
+sensibilities of your very excellent and generous people. We would do
+good to all without giving pain to any one. Oh! Sister, you know what a
+wicked world this is, and how it becomes us to labor for the good of
+others. But what is this world compared with the darkness of the heathen
+world, and those poor wretches ('Sure enough!' says Mrs. Swiggs) who eat
+one another, never have heard of a God, and prefer rather to worship
+idols of wood and stone. When I contemplate this dreadful darkness,
+which I do night and day, day and night, I invoke the Spirit to give me
+renewed strength to go forward in the good work of bringing from
+darkness ('Just as I feel,' thinks Mrs. Swiggs) unto light those poor
+benighted wretches of the heathen world. How often I have wished you
+could be here with us, to add life and spirit to our cause&mdash;to aid us in
+beating down Satan, and when we have got him down not to let him up. The
+heathen world never will be what it should be until Satan is bankrupt,
+deprived of his arts, and chained to the post of humiliation&mdash;never! ('I
+wish I had him where my Tom is!' Mrs. Swiggs mutters to herself.) Do
+come on here, Sister. We will give you an excellent reception, and make
+you so happy while you sojourn among us. And now, Sister, having never
+appealed to you in vain, we again extend our hand, hoping you will favor
+the several very excellent projects we now have on hand. First, we have
+a project&mdash;a very excellent one, on hand, for evangelizing the world;
+second, in consideration of what has been done in the reign of the
+Seven Churches&mdash;Pergamos Thyatira, Magnesia, Cassaba, Demish, and
+Baindir, where all is darkness, we have conceived a mission to Antioch;
+and third, we have been earnestly engaged in, and have spent a few
+thousand dollars over a project of the 'Tract Society,' which is the
+getting up of no less than one or two million of their excellent tracts,
+for the Dahomy field of missionary labor&mdash;such as the Egba mission, the
+Yoruba mission, and the Ijebu missions. Oh! Sister, what a field of
+labor is here open to us. And what a source of joy and thankfulness it
+should be to us that we have the means to labor in those fields of
+darkness. We have selected brother Singleton Spyke, a young man of great
+promise, for this all-important mission to Antioch. He has been for the
+last four years growing in grace and wisdom. No expense has been spared
+in everything necessary to his perfection, not even in the selection of
+a partner suited to his prospects and future happiness. We now want a
+few thousand dollars to make up the sum requisite to his mission, and
+pay the expenses of getting him off. Come to our assistance, dear
+Sister&mdash;do come! Share with us your mite in this great work of
+enlightening the heathen, and know that your deeds are recorded in
+heaven. ('Verily!' says the old lady.) And now, hoping the Giver of all
+good will continue to favor you with His blessing, and preserve you in
+that strength of intellect with which you have so often assisted us in
+beating down Satan, and hoping either to have the pleasure of seeing
+you, or hearing from you soon, I will say adieu! subscribing myself a
+servant in the cause of the heathen, and your sincere Sister,</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;">"<span class="smcap">Mrs. Abijah Slocum</span>.</p>
+
+<p>"P.S.&mdash;Remember, dear Sister, that the amount of money expended in
+idol-worship&mdash;in erecting monster temples and keeping them in repair,
+would provide comfortable homes and missions for hundreds of our very
+excellent young men and women, who are now ready to buckle on the armor
+and enter the fight against Satan.</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;">
+"A.S."<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"Dear-a-me," she sighs, laying the letter upon the table, kicking the
+cat as she resumes her rocking, and with her right hand restoring her
+Milton to its accustomed place on the table. "Rebecca," she says, "will
+get a pillow and place it nicely at my back." Rebecca, the old slave,
+brings the pillow. "There, there! now, not too high, nor too low,
+Rebecca!" her thin, sharp voice echoes, as she works her shoulders, and
+permits her long fingers to wander over her cap-border. "When 'um got
+just so missus like, say&mdash;da he is!" mumbles the old negress in reply.
+"Well, well&mdash;a little that side, now&mdash;" The negress moves the pillow a
+little to the left. "That's too much, Rebecca&mdash;a slight touch the other
+way. You are so stupid, I will have to sell you, and get Jewel to take
+care of me. I would have done it before but for the noise of her
+crutch&mdash;I would, Rebecca! You never think of me&mdash;you only think of how
+much hominy you can eat." The old negress makes a motion to move the
+pillow a little to the right, when Mrs. Swiggs settles her head and
+shoulders into it, saying, "there!"</p>
+
+<p>"Glad'um suit&mdash;fo'h true!" retorts the negress, her heavy lips and
+sullen face giving out the very incarnation of hatred.</p>
+
+<p>"Now don't make a noise when you go out." Rebecca in reply says she is
+"gwine down to da kitchen to see Isaac," and toddles out of the room,
+gently closing the door after her.</p>
+
+<p>Resignedly Mrs. Swiggs closes her eyes, moderates her rocking, and
+commences evolving and revolving the subject over in her mind. "I
+haven't much of this world's goods&mdash;no, I haven't; but I'm of a good
+family, and its name for hospitality must be kept up. Don't see that I
+can keep it up better than by helping Sister Slocum and the <i>Tract
+Society</i> out," she muses. But the exact way to effect this has not yet
+come clear to her mind. Times are rather hard, and, as we have said
+before, she is in straightened circumstances, having, for something more
+than ten years, had nothing but the earnings of eleven old negroes, five
+of whom are cripples, to keep up the dignity of the house of the Swiggs.
+"There's old Zeff," she says, "has took to drinking, and Flame, his
+wife, ain't a bit better; and neither one of them have been worth
+anything since I sold their two children&mdash;which I had to do, or let the
+dignity of the family suffer. I don't like to do it, but I must. I must
+send Zeff to the workhouse&mdash;have him nicely whipped, I only charge him
+eighteen dollars a month for himself, and yet he will drink, and won't
+pay over his wages. Yes!&mdash;he shall have it. The extent of the law, well
+laid on, will learn him a lesson. There's old Cato pays me twenty
+dollars a month, and Cato's seventy-four&mdash;four years older than Zeff. In
+truth, my negro property is all getting careless about paying wages. Old
+Trot runs away whenever he can get a chance; Brutus has forever got
+something the matter with him; and Cicero has come to be a real skulk.
+He don't care for the cowhide; the more I get him flogged the worse he
+gets. Curious creature! And his old woman, since she broke her leg, and
+goes with a crutch, thinks she can do just as she pleases. There is
+plenty of work in her&mdash;plenty; she has no disposition to let it come
+out, though! And she has kept up a grumbling ever since I sold her
+girls. Well, I didn't want to keep them all the time at the
+whipping-post; so I sold them to save their characters." Thus Mrs.
+Swiggs muses until she drops into a profound sleep, in which she
+remains, dreaming that she has sold old Mumma Molly, Cicero's wife, and
+with the proceeds finds herself in New York, hob-nobbing it with Sister
+Slocum, and making one extensive donation to the Tract Society, and
+another to the fund for getting Brother Singleton Spyke off to Antioch.
+Her arrival in Gotham, she dreams, is a great event. The Tract Society
+(she is its guest) is smothering her with its attentions. Indeed, a
+whole column and a half of the very conservative and highly respectable
+old <i>Observer</i> is taken up with an elaborate and well-written history of
+her many virtues.</p>
+
+<p>The venerable old lady dreams herself into dusky evening, and wakes to
+find old Rebecca summoning her to tea. She is exceedingly sorry the old
+slave disturbed her. However, having great faith in dreams, and the one
+she has just enjoyed bringing the way to aid Sister Slocum in carrying
+out her projects of love so clear to her mind, she is resolved to lose
+no time in carrying out its principles. Selling old Molly won't be much;
+old Molly is not worth much to her; and the price of old Molly (she'll
+bring something!) will do so much to enlighten the heathen, and aid the
+Tract Society in giving out its excellent works. "And I have for years
+longed to see Sister Slocum, face to face, before I die," she says. And
+with an affixed determination to carry out this pious resolve, Mrs.
+Swiggs sips her tea, and retires to her dingy little chamber for the
+night.</p>
+
+<p>A bright and cheerful sun ushers in the following morning. The soft rays
+steal in at the snuffy door, at the dilapidated windows, through the
+faded curtains, and into the "best parlor," where, at an early hour,
+sits the antique old lady, rummaging over some musty old papers piled on
+the centre-table. The pale light plays over and gives to her features a
+spectre-like hue; while the grotesque pieces of furniture by which she
+is surrounded lend their aid in making complete the picture of a
+wizard's abode. The paper she wants is nowhere to be found. "I must
+exercise a little judgment in this affair," she mutters, folding a bit
+of paper, and seizing her pen. Having written&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+"<span class="smcap">To the Master of the Work-house</span>:<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry I have to trouble you so often with old Cicero. He will not
+pay wages all I can do. Give him at least thirty&mdash;well laid on. I go to
+New York in a few days, and what is due you from me for punishments will
+be paid any time you send your bill.</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 15em;">
+"<span class="smcap">Sarah Pringle Hughes Swiggs</span>."
+</p>
+
+<p>"Well! he deserves what he gets," she shakes her head and ejaculates.
+Having summoned Rebecca, Master Cicero, a hard-featured old negro, is
+ordered up, and comes tottering into the room, half-bent with age, his
+hair silvered, and his face covered with a mossy-white beard&mdash;the
+picture of a patriarch carved in ebony. "Good mornin', Missus," he
+speaks in a feeble and husky voice, standing hesitatingly before his
+august owner. "You are&mdash;well, I might as well say it&mdash;you're a
+miserable old wretch!" Cicero makes a nervous motion with his left hand,
+as the fingers of his right wander over the bald crown of his head, and
+his eyes give out a forlorn look. She has no pity for the poor old
+man&mdash;none. "You are, Cicero&mdash;you needn't pretend you ain't," she
+pursues; and springing to her feet with an incredible nimbleness, she
+advances to the window, tucks up the old curtain, and says, "There; let
+the light reflect on your face. Badness looks out of it, Cicero! you
+never was a good nigger&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Per'aps not, Missus; but den I'se old."</p>
+
+<p>"Old! you ain't so old but you can pay wages," the testy old woman
+interrupts, tossing her head. "You're a capital hand at cunning excuses.
+This will get you done for, at the workhouse." She hands him a
+delicately enveloped and carefully superscribed <i>billet</i>, and commands
+him to proceed forthwith to the workhouse. A tear courses slowly down
+his time-wrinkled face, he hesitates, would speak one word in his own
+defence. But the word of his owner is absolute, and in obedience to the
+wave of her hand he totters to the door, and disappears. His tears are
+only those of a slave. How useless fall the tears of him who has no
+voice, no power to assert his manhood! And yet, in that shrunken
+bosom&mdash;in that figure, bent and shattered of age, there burns a passion
+for liberty and hatred of the oppressor more terrible than the hand that
+has made him the wretch he is. That tear! how forcibly it tells the tale
+of his sorrowing soul; how eloquently it foretells the downfall of that
+injustice holding him in its fierce chains!</p>
+
+<p>Cicero has been nicely got out of the way. Molly, his wife, is summoned
+into the presence of her mistress, to receive her awful doom. "To be
+frank with you, Molly, and I am always outspoken, you know, I am going
+to sell you. We have been long enough together, and necessity at this
+moment forces me to this conclusion," says our venerable lady,
+addressing herself to the old slave, who stands before her, leaning on
+her crutch, for she is one of the cripples. "You will get a pious owner,
+I trust; and God will be merciful to you."</p>
+
+<p>The old slave of seventy years replies only with an expression of hate
+in her countenance, and a drooping of her heavy lip. "Now," Mrs. Swiggs
+pursues, "take this letter, go straight to Mr. Forcheu with it, and he
+will sell you. He is very kind in selling old people&mdash;very!" Molly
+inquires if Cicero may go. Mrs. Swiggs replies that nobody will buy two
+old people together.</p>
+
+<p>The slave of seventy years, knowing her entreaties will be in vain,
+approaches her mistress with the fervency of a child, and grasping
+warmly her hand, stammers out: "Da&mdash;da&mdash;dah Lord bless um, Missus. Tan't
+many days fo'h we meet in t'oder world&mdash;good-bye."</p>
+
+<p>"God bless you&mdash;good-bye, Molly. Remember what I have told you so many
+times&mdash;long suffering and forbearance make the true Christian. Be a
+Christian&mdash;seek to serve your Master faithfully; such the Scripture
+teacheth. Now tie your handkerchief nicely on your head, and get your
+clean apron on, and mind to look good-natured when Mr. Forcheu sells
+you." This admonition, methodically addressed to the old slave, and Mrs.
+Swiggs waves her hand, resumes her Milton, and settles herself back into
+her chair. Reader! if you have a heart in the right place it will be
+needless for us to dwell upon the feelings of that old slave, as she
+drags her infirm body to the shambles of the extremely kind vender of
+people.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XIV.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>MR. McARTHUR MAKES A DISCOVERY.</p>
+
+
+<p>On his return from the theatre, Mr. McArthur finds his daughter, Maria,
+waiting him in great anxiety. "Father, father!" she says, as he enters
+his little back parlor, "this is what that poor woman, Mag Munday, used
+to take on so about; here it is." She advances, her countenance wearing
+an air of great solicitude, holds the old dress in her left hand, and a
+stained letter in her right. "It fell from a pocket in the bosom," she
+pursues. The old man, with an expression of surprise, takes the letter
+and prepares to read it. He pauses. "Did it come from the dress I
+discovered in the old chest?" he inquires, adjusting his spectacles.
+Maria says it did. She has no doubt it might have relieved her
+suffering, if it had been found before she died. "But, father, was there
+not to you something strange, something mysterious about the manner she
+pursued her search for this old dress? You remember how she used to
+insist that it contained something that might be a fortune to her in her
+distress, and how there was a history connected with it that would not
+reflect much credit on a lady in high life!"</p>
+
+<p>The old man interrupts by saying he well remembers it; remembers how he
+thought she was a maniac to set so much value on the old dress, and make
+so many sighs when it could not be found. "It always occurred to me
+there was something more than the dress that made her take on so," the
+old man concludes, returning the letter to Maria, with a request that
+she will read it. Maria resumes her seat, the old man draws a chair to
+the table, and with his face supported in his left hand listens
+attentively as she reads:</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;">
+<span class="smcap">"Washington Square, New York</span>,</p>
+<p style="margin-left: 29em;">May 14, 18&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to hear from Mr. Sildon that the child does well. Poor little
+thing, it gives me so many unhappy thoughts when I think of it; but I
+know you are a good woman, Mrs. Munday, and will watch her with the care
+of a mother. She was left at our door one night, and as people are
+always too ready to give currency to scandal, my brother and I thought
+that it would not be prudent to adopt it at once, more especially as I
+have been ill for the last few months, and have any quantity of enemies.
+I am going to close my house, now that my deceased husband's estate is
+settled, and spend a few years in Europe. Mr. Thomas Sildon is well
+provided with funds for the care of the child during my absence, and
+will pay you a hundred dollars every quarter. Let no one see this
+letter, not even your husband. And when I return I will give you an
+extra remuneration, and adopt the child as my own. Mr. Sildon will tell
+you where to find me when I return."</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 20em;">
+Your friend,</p>
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;">"C.A.M."
+</p>
+
+<p>"There, father," says Maria, "there is something more than we know
+about, connected with this letter. One thing always discovers
+another&mdash;don't you think it may have something to do with that lady who
+has two or three times come in here, and always appeared so nervous
+when she inquired about Mag Munday? and you recollect how she would not
+be content until we had told her a thousand different things concerning
+her. She wanted, she said, a clue to her; but she never could get a clue
+to her. There is something more than we know of connected with this
+letter," and she lays the old damp stained and crumpled letter on the
+table, as the old servant enters bearing on a small tray their humble
+supper.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, sit up, my daughter," says the old man, helping her to a sandwich
+while she pours out his dish of tea, "our enjoyment need be none the
+less because our fare is humble. As for satisfying this lady about Mag
+Munday, why, I have given that up. I told her all I knew, and that is,
+that when she first came to Charleston&mdash;one never knows what these New
+Yorkers are&mdash;she was a dashing sort of woman, had no end of admirers,
+and lived in fine style. Then it got out that she wasn't the wife of the
+man who came with her, but that she was the wife of a poor man of the
+name of Munday, and had quit her husband; as wives will when they take a
+notion in their heads. And as is always the way with these sort of
+people, she kept gradually getting down in the world, and as she kept
+getting more and more down so she took more and more to drink, and drink
+brought on grief, and grief soon wasted her into the grave. I took pity
+on her, for she seemed not a bad woman at heart, and always said she was
+forced by necessity into the house of Madame Flamingo&mdash;a house that
+hurries many a poor creature to her ruin. And she seemed possessed of a
+sense of honor not common to these people; and when Madame Flamingo
+turned her into the street,&mdash;as she does every one she has succeeded in
+making a wretch of,&mdash;and she could find no one to take her in, and had
+nowhere to lay her poor head, as she used to say, I used to lend her
+little amounts, which she always managed somehow to repay. As to there
+being anything valuable in the dress, I never gave it a thought; and
+when she would say if she could have restored to her the dress, and
+manage to get money enough to get to New York, I thought it was only the
+result of her sadness."</p>
+
+<p>"You may remember, father," interrupts Maria, "she twice spoke of a
+child left in her charge; and that the child was got away from her. If
+she could only trace that poor child, she would say, or find out what
+had become of it, she could forget her own sufferings and die easy. But
+the thought of what had become of that child forever haunted her; she
+knew that unless she atoned in some way the devil would surely get her."
+The old man says, setting down his cup, it all comes fresh to his mind.
+Mr. Soloman (he has not a doubt) could let some light upon the subject;
+and, as he seems acquainted with the lady that takes so much interest in
+what became of the woman Munday, he may relieve her search. "I am sure
+she is dead, nevertheless; I say this, knowing that having no home she
+got upon the Neck, and then associated with the negroes; and the last I
+heard of her was that the fever carried her off. This must have been
+true, or else she had been back here pleading for the bundles we could
+not find." Thus saying, Mr. McArthur finishes his humble supper, kisses
+and fondles his daughter, whom he dotingly loves, and retires for the
+night.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XV.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>WHAT MADAME FLAMINGO WANTS TO BE.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Tom Swiggs</span> has enjoyed, to the evident satisfaction of his
+mother, a seven months' residence in the old prison. The very first
+families continue to pay their respects to the good old lady, and she in
+return daily honors them with mementoes of her remembrance. These little
+civilities, exchanging between the stately old lady and our first
+families, indicate the approach of the fashionable season. Indeed, we
+may as well tell you the fashionable season is commencing in right good
+earnest. Our elite are at home, speculations are rife as to what the
+"Jockey Club" will do, we are recounting our adventures at northern
+watering-places, chuckling over our heroism in putting down those who
+were unwise enough to speak disrespectful of our cherished institutions,
+and making very light of what we would do to the whole north. You may
+know, too, that our fashionable season is commenced by what is taking
+place at the house of Madame Flamingo on the one side, and the St.
+Cecilia on the other. We recognize these establishments as institutions.
+That they form the great fortifications of fashionable society, flanking
+it at either extreme, no one here doubts.</p>
+
+<p>We are extremely sensitive of two things&mdash;fashion, and our right to sell
+negroes. Without the former we should be at sea; without the latter, our
+existence would indeed be humble. The St. Cecilia Society inaugurates
+the fashionable season, the erudite Editor of the Courier will tell
+you, with an entertainment given to the elite of its members and a few
+very distinguished foreigners. Madame Flamingo opens her forts, at the
+same time, with a grand supper, which she styles a very select
+entertainment, and to which she invites none but "those of the highest
+standing in society." If you would like to see what sort of a supper she
+sets to inaugurate the fashionable season, take our arm for a few
+minutes.</p>
+
+<p>Having just arrived from New York, where she has been luxuriating and
+selecting her wares for the coming season, (New York is the fountain
+ejecting its vice over this Union,) Madame looks hale, hearty, and
+exceedingly cheerful. Nor has she spared any expense to make herself up
+with becoming youthfulness&mdash;as the common people have it. She has got
+her a lace cap of the latest fashion, with great broad striped blue and
+red strings; and her dress is of orange-colored brocade, trimmed with
+tulle, and looped with white blossoms. Down the stomacher it is set with
+jewels. Her figure seems more embonpoint than when we last saw her; and
+as she leans on the arm of old Judge Sleepyhorn, forms a striking
+contrast to the slender figure of that singular specimen of judicial
+infirmity. Two great doors are opened, and Madame leads the way into
+what she calls her upper and private parlor, a hall of some fifty feet
+by thirty, in the centre of which a sumptuously decorated table is set
+out. Indeed there is a chasteness and richness about the furniture and
+works of art that decorate this apartment, singularly at variance with
+the bright-colored furniture of the room we have described in a former
+chapter. "Ladies and gentlemen!" ejaculates the old hostess, "imagine
+this a palace, in which you are all welcome. As the legal gentry say
+(she casts a glance at the old Judge), when you have satisfactorily
+imagined that, imagine me a princess, and address me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"High ho!" interrupts Mr. Soloman.</p>
+
+<p>"I confess," continues the old woman, her little, light-brown curls
+dangling across her brow, and her face crimsoning, "I would like to be a
+princess."</p>
+
+<p>"You can," rejoins the former speaker, his fingers wandering to his
+chin.</p>
+
+<p>"Well! I have my beadle&mdash;beadles, I take, are inseparable from royal
+blood&mdash;and my servants in liveries. After all (she tosses her head) what
+can there be in beadles and liveries? Why! the commonest and vulgarest
+people of New York have taken to liveries. If you chance to take an
+elegant drive up the 'Fifth Avenue,' and meet a dashing equipage&mdash;say
+with horses terribly caparisoned, a purloined crest on the
+carriage-door, a sallow-faced footman covered up in a green coat, all
+over big brass buttons, stuck up behind, and a whiskey-faced coachman
+half-asleep in a great hammercloth, be sure it belongs to some snob who
+has not a sentence of good English in his head. Yes! perhaps a
+soap-chandler, an oil-dealer, or a candy-maker. Brainless people always
+creep into plush&mdash;always! People of taste and learning, like me, only
+are entitled to liveries and crests." This Madame says, inviting her
+guests to take seats at her banquet-table, at the head of which she
+stands, the Judge on her right, Mr. Soloman on her left. Her china is of
+the most elaborate description, embossed and gilt; her plate is of pure
+silver, and massive; she has vases and candelabras of the same metal;
+and her cutlery is of the most costly description. No house in the
+country can boast a more exact taste in their selection. At each plate
+a silver holder stands, bearing a bouquet of delicately-arranged
+flowers. A trellise of choice flowers, interspersed here and there with
+gorgeous bouquets in porcelain vases, range along the centre of the
+table; which presents the appearance of a bed of fresh flowers
+variegated with delicious fruits. Her guests are to her choicer than her
+fruits; her fruits are choicer than her female wares. No entertainment
+of this kind would be complete without Judge Sleepyhorn and Mr. Soloman.
+They countenance vice in its most insidious form&mdash;they foster crime;
+without crime their trade would be damaged. The one cultivates, that the
+other may reap the harvest and maintain his office.</p>
+
+<p>"I see," says Mr. Soloman, in reply to the old hostess, "not the
+slightest objection to your being a princess&mdash;not the slightest! And, to
+be frank about the matter, I know of no one who would better ornament
+the position."</p>
+
+<p>"Your compliments are too liberally bestowed, Mr. Soloman."</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all! 'Pon my honor, now, there is a chance for you to bring that
+thing about in a very short time. There is Grouski, the Polish exile, a
+prince of pure blood. Grouski is poor, wants to get back to Europe. He
+wants a wife, too. Grouski is a high old fellow&mdash;a most celebrated man,
+fought like a hero for the freedom of his country; and though an exile
+here, would be received with all the honors due to a prince in either
+Italy, France or England.</p>
+
+<p>"A very respectable gentleman, no doubt; but a prince of pure blood, Mr.
+Soloman, is rather a scarce article these days."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a bit of it&mdash;why there is lots of exiled Princes all over this
+country. They are modest men, you know, like me; and having got it into
+their heads that we don't like royal blood, rather keep the fact of
+their birth to themselves. As for Grouski! why his history is as
+familiar to every American who takes any interest in these things, as is
+the history of poor Kossuth. I only say this, Madame Flamingo, to prove
+to you that Grouski is none of your mock articles. And what is more, I
+have several times heard him speak most enthusiastically of you."</p>
+
+<p>"Of me!" interrupts the old hostess, blushing. "I respect Grouski, and
+the more so for his being a poor prince in exile." Madame orders her
+servants, who are screwed into bright liveries, to bring on some
+sparkling Moselle. This done, and the glasses filled with the sparkling
+beverage, Mr. Soloman rises to propose a toast; although, as he says, it
+is somewhat out of place, two rounds having only succeeded the soup: "I
+propose the health of our generous host, to whom we owe so much for the
+superb manner in which she has catered for our amusement. Here's that we
+may speedily have the pleasure of paying our respects to her as the
+Princess Grouski." Madame Flamingo bows, the toast is drunk with cheers,
+and she begins to think there is something in it after all.</p>
+
+<p>"Make as light of it as you please, ladies and gentlemen&mdash;many stranger
+things have come to pass. As for the exile, Grouski, I always esteemed
+him a very excellent gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly!" interposes the Judge, tipping his glass, and preparing his
+appetite for the course of game&mdash;broiled partridges, rice-birds, and
+grouse&mdash;which is being served by the waiters. "No one more worthy," he
+pursues, wiping his sleepy face with his napkin, "of being a princess.
+Education, wealth, and taste, you have; and with Grouski, there is
+nothing to prevent the happy consummation&mdash;nothing! I beg to assure
+you," Madame Flamingo makes a most courteous bow, and with an air of
+great dignity condescends to say she hopes gentlemen of the highest
+standing in Charleston have for ten years or more had the strongest
+proofs of her ability to administer the offices of a lady of station.
+"But you know," she pursues, hoping ladies and gentlemen will be kind
+enough to keep their glasses full, "people are become so pious
+now-a-days that they are foolish enough to attach a stigma to our
+business."</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh, pooh!" interrupts the accommodation man, having raised his glass
+in compliment to a painted harlot. "Once in Europe, and under the shadow
+of the wife of Prince Grouski, the past would be wiped out; your money
+would win admirers, while your being a princess would make fashionable
+society your tool. The very atmosphere of princesses is full of taint;
+but it is sunk in the rank, and rather increases courtiers. In France
+your untainted princess would prognosticate the second coming of&mdash;,
+well, I will not profane."</p>
+
+<p>"Do not, I beg of you," says Madame, blushing. "I am scrupulously
+opposed to profanity." And then there breaks upon the ear music that
+seems floating from an enchanted chamber, so soft and dulcet does it
+mingle with the coarse laughing and coarser wit of the banqueters. At
+this feast of flowers may be seen the man high in office, the grave
+merchant, the man entrusted with the most important affairs of the
+commonwealth&mdash;the sage and the charlatan. Sallow-faced and painted
+women, more undressed than dressed, sit beside them, hale companions.
+Respectable society regards the Judge a fine old gentleman; respectable
+society embraces Mr. Soloman, notwithstanding he carries on a business,
+as we shall show, that brings misery upon hundreds. Twice has he
+received a large vote as candidate for the General Assembly.</p>
+
+<p>A little removed from the old Judge (excellent man) sits Anna Bonard,
+like a jewel among stones less brilliant, George Mullholland on her
+left. Her countenance wears an expression of gentleness, sweet and
+touching. Her silky black hair rolls in wavy folds down her voluptuous
+shoulders, a fresh carnatic flush suffuses her cheeks, her great black
+eyes, so beautifully arched with heavy lashes, flash incessantly, and to
+her bewitching charms is added a pensive smile that now lights up her
+features, then subsides into melancholy.</p>
+
+<p>"What think you of my statuary?" inquired the old hostess, "and my
+antiques? Have I not taste enough for a princess?" How soft the carpet,
+how rich its colors! Those marble mantel-pieces, sculptured in female
+figures, how massive! How elegantly they set off each end of the hall,
+as we shall call this room; and how sturdily they bear up statuettes,
+delicately executed in alabaster and Parian, of Byron, Goethe, Napoleon,
+and Charlemagne&mdash;two on each. And there, standing between two Gothic
+windows on the front of the hall, is an antique side-table, of curious
+design. The windows are draped with curtains of rich purple satin, with
+embroidered cornice skirts and heavy tassels. On this antique table, and
+between the undulating curtains, is a marble statue of a female in a
+reclining posture, her right hand supporting her head, her dishevelled
+hair flowing down her shoulder. The features are soft, calm, and almost
+grand. It is simplicity sleeping, Madame Flamingo says. On the opposite
+side of the hall are pedestals of black walnut, with mouldings in gilt,
+on which stand busts of Washington and Lafayette, as if they were
+unwilling spectators of the revelry. A venerable recline, that may have
+had a place in the propyl&aelig;a, or served to decorate the halls of
+Versailles in the days of Napoleon, has here a place beneath the
+portrait of Jefferson. This humble tribute the old hostess says she pays
+to democracy. And at each end of the hall are double alcoves, over the
+arches of which are great spread eagles, holding in their beaks the
+points of massive maroon-colored drapery that falls over the sides,
+forming brilliant depressions. In these alcoves are groups of figures
+and statuettes, and parts of statuettes, legless and armless, and all
+presenting a rude and mutilated condition. What some of them represented
+it would have puzzled the ancient Greeks to decypher. Madame,
+nevertheless, assures her guests she got them from among the relics of
+Italian and Grecian antiquity. You may do justice to her taste on living
+statuary; but her rude and decrepit wares, like those owned and so much
+valued by our New York patrons of the arts, you may set down as
+belonging to a less antique age of art. And there are chairs inlaid with
+mosaic and pearl, and upholstered with the richest and brightest satin
+damask,&mdash;revealing, however, that uncouthness of taste so characteristic
+of your Fifth Avenue aristocrat.</p>
+
+<p>Now cast your eye upward to the ceiling. It is frescoed with themes of a
+barbaric age. The finely-outlined figure of a female adorns the centre.
+Her loins are enveloped in what seems a mist; and in her right hand,
+looking as if it were raised from the groundwork, she holds gracefully
+the bulb of a massive chandelier, from the jets of which a refulgent
+light is reflected upon the flowery banquet table. Madame smilingly says
+it is the Goddess of Love, an exact copy of the one in the temple of
+Jupiter Olympus. Another just opposite, less voluptuous in its outlines,
+she adds, is intended for a copy of the fabled goddess, supposed by the
+ancients to have thrown off her wings to illustrate the uncertainty of
+fortune.</p>
+
+<p>Course follows course, of viands the most delicious, and sumptuously
+served. The wine cup now flows freely, the walls re&euml;cho the coarse jokes
+and coarser laughs of the banqueters, and leaden eyelids, languid faces,
+and reeling brains, mark the closing scene. Such is the gorgeous vice we
+worship, such the revelries we sanction, such the insidious debaucheries
+we shield with the mantle of our laws&mdash;laws made for the accommodation
+of the rich, for the punishment only of the poor. And a thousand poor in
+our midst suffer for bread while justice sleeps.</p>
+
+<p>Midnight is upon the banqueters, the music strikes up a last march, the
+staggering company retire to the stifled air of resplendent chambers.
+The old hostess contemplates herself as a princess, and seriously
+believes an alliance with Grouski would not be the strangest thing in
+the world. There is, however, one among the banqueters who seems to have
+something deeper at heart than the transitory offerings on the
+table&mdash;one whose countenance at times assumes a thoughtfulness
+singularly at variance with those around her. It is Anna Bonard.</p>
+
+<p>Only to-day did George Mullholland reveal to her the almost hopeless
+condition of poor Tom Swiggs, still confined in the prison, with
+criminals for associates, and starving. She had met Tom when fortune was
+less ruthless; he had twice befriended her while in New York. Moved by
+that sympathy for the suffering which is ever the purest offspring of
+woman's heart, no matter how low her condition, she resolved not to rest
+until she had devised the means of his release. Her influence over the
+subtle-minded old Judge she well knew, nor was she ignorant of the
+relations existing between him and the accommodation man.</p>
+
+<p>On the conclusion of the feast she invites them to her chamber. They are
+not slow to accept the invitation. "Be seated, gentlemen, be seated,"
+she says, preserving a calmness of manner not congenial to the feelings
+of either of her guests. She places chairs for them at the round table,
+upon the marble top of which an inlaid portfolio lies open.</p>
+
+<p>"Rather conventional," stammers Mr. Snivel, touching the Judge
+significantly on the arm, as they take seats. Mr. Snivel is fond of good
+wine, and good wine has so mellowed his constitution that he is obliged
+to seek support for his head in his hands.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like a little light on this 'ere plot. Peers thar's somethin' a
+foot," responds the Judge.</p>
+
+<p>Anna interposes by saying they shall know quick enough. Placing a pen
+and inkstand on the table, she takes her seat opposite them, and
+commences watching their declining consciousness. "Thar," ejaculates the
+old Judge, his moody face becoming dark and sullen, "let us have the
+wish."</p>
+
+<p>"You owe me an atonement, and you can discharge it by gratifying my
+desire."</p>
+
+<p>"Women," interposes the old Judge, dreamily, "always have wishes to
+gratify. W-o-l, if its teu sign a warrant, hang a nigger, tar and
+feather an abolitionist, ride the British Consul out a town, or send a
+dozen vagrants to the whipping-post&mdash;I'm thar. Anything my hand's in
+at!" incoherently mumbles this judicial dignitary.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel having reminded the Judge that ten o'clock to-morrow morning
+is the time appointed for meeting Splitwood, the "nigger broker," who
+furnishes capital with which they start a new paper for the new party,
+drops away into a refreshing sleep, his head on the marble.</p>
+
+<p>"Grant me, as a favor, an order for the release of poor Tom Swiggs. You
+cannot deny me this, Judge," says Anna, with an arch smile, and pausing
+for a reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Wol, as to that," responds this high functionary, "if I'd power,
+'twouldn't be long afore I'd dew it, though his mother'd turn the town
+upside down; but I hain't no power in the premises. I make it a rule, on
+and off the bench, never to refuse the request of a pretty woman.
+Chivalry, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"For your compliment, Judge, I thank you. The granting my request,
+however, would be more grateful to my feelings."</p>
+
+<p>"It speaks well of your heart, my dear girl; but, you see, I'm only a
+Judge. Mr. Snivel, here, probably committed him ('Snivel! here, wake
+up!' he says, shaking him violently), he commits everybody. Being a
+Justice of the Peace, you see, and justices of the peace being
+everything here, I may prevail on him to grant your request!" pursues
+the Judge, brightening up at the earnest manner in which Anna makes her
+appeal. "Snivel! Snivel!&mdash;Justice Snivel, come, wake up. Thar is a call
+for your sarvices." The Judge continues to shake the higher functionary
+violently. Mr. Snivel with a modest snore rouses from his nap, says he
+is always ready to do a bit of a good turn. "If you are, then,"
+interposes the fair girl, "let it be made known now. Grant me an order
+of release for Tom Swiggs. Remember what will be the consequence of a
+refusal!"</p>
+
+<p>"Tom Swiggs! Tom Swiggs!&mdash;why I've made a deal of fees of that fellow.
+But, viewing it in either a judicial or philosophical light, he's quite
+as well where he is. They don't give them much to eat in jail I admit,
+but it is a great place for straightening the morals of a rum-head like
+Tom. And he has got down so low that all the justices in the city
+couldn't make him fit for respectable society." Mr. Snivel yawns and
+stretches his arms athwart.</p>
+
+<p>"But you can grant me the order independent of what respectable society
+will do."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel replies, bowing, a pretty woman is more than a match for the
+whole judiciary. He will make a good amount of fees out of Tom yet; and
+what his testy old mother declines to pay, he will charge to the State,
+as the law gives him a right to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I am to understand!" quickly retorts Anna, rising from her chair,
+with an expression of contempt on her countenance, and a satirical curl
+on her lip, "you have no true regard for me then; your friendship is
+that of the knave, who has nothing to give after his ends are served. I
+will leave you!" The Judge takes her gently by the arm; indignantly she
+pushes him from her, as her great black eyes flash with passion, and she
+seeks for the door. Mr. Snivel has placed himself against it, begs she
+will be calm. "Why," he says, "get into a passion at that which was but
+a joke." The Judge touches him on the arm significantly, and whispers
+in his ear, "grant her the order&mdash;grant it, for peace sake, Justice
+Snivel."</p>
+
+<p>"Now, if you will tell me why you take so deep an interest in getting
+them fellows out of prison, I will grant the order of release," Mr.
+Snivel says, and with an air of great gallantry leads her back to her
+chair.</p>
+
+<p>"None but friendship for one who served me when he had it in his power."</p>
+
+<p>"I see! I see!" interrupts our gallant justice; "the renewal of an old
+acquaintance; you are to play the part of Don Quixote,&mdash;he, the
+mistress. It's well enough there should be a change in the knights, and
+that the stripling who goes about in the garb of the clergy, and has
+been puzzling his wits how to get Tom out of prison for the last six
+months&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Your trades never agree;" parenthesises Anna.</p>
+
+<p>"Should yield the lance to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Who better able to wield it in this chivalrous atmosphere? It only
+pains my own feelings to confess myself an abandoned woman; but I have a
+consolation in knowing how powerful an abandoned woman may be in
+Charleston."</p>
+
+<p>An admonition from the old Judge, and Mr. Snivel draws his chair to the
+table, upon which he places his left elbow, rests his head on his hand.
+"This fellow will get out; his mother&mdash;I have pledged my honor to keep
+him fast locked up&mdash;will find it out, and there'll be a fuss among our
+first families," he whispers. Anna pledges him her honor, a thing she
+never betrays, that the secret of Tom's release shall be a matter of
+strict confidence. And having shook hands over it, Mr. Snivel seizes the
+pen and writes an order of release, commanding the jailer to set at
+liberty one Tom Swiggs, committed as a vagrant upon a justice's warrant,
+&amp;c., &amp;c., &amp;c. "There," says Justice Snivel, "the thing is done&mdash;now for
+a kiss;" and the fair girl permits him to kiss her brow. "Me too; the
+bench and the bar!" rejoins the Judge, following the example of his
+junior. And with an air of triumph the victorious girl bears away what
+at this moment she values a prize.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XVI.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>IN WHICH TOM SWIGGS GAINS HIS LIBERTY, AND WHAT BEFALLS HIM.</p>
+
+
+<p>Anna gives George Mullholland the letter of release, and on the
+succeeding morning he is seen entering at the iron gate of the wall that
+encloses the old prison. "Bread! give me bread," greets his ear as soon
+as he enters the sombre old pile. He walks through the debtors' floor,
+startles as he hears the stifled cry for bread, and contemplates with
+pained feelings the wasting forms and sickly faces that everywhere meet
+his eye. The same piercing cry grates upon his senses as he sallies
+along the damp, narrow aisle of the second floor, lined on both sides
+with small, filthy cells, in which are incarcerated men whose crime is
+that of having committed "assault and battery," and British seamen
+innocent of all crime except that of having a colored skin. If anything
+less than a gentleman commit assault and battery, we punish him with
+imprisonment; we have no law to punish gentlemen who commit such
+offences.</p>
+
+<p>Along the felon's aisle&mdash;in the malarious cells where "poor" murderers
+and burglars are chained to die of the poisonous atmosphere, the same
+cry tells its mournful tale. Look into the dark vista of this little
+passage, and you will see the gleaming of flabby arms and shrunken
+hands. Glance into the apertures out of which they protrude so
+appealingly, you will hear the dull clank of chains, see the glare of
+vacant eyes, and shudder at the pale, cadaverous faces of beings
+tortured with starvation. A low, hoarse whisper, asks you for bread; a
+listless countenance quickens at your footfall. Oh! could you but feel
+the emotion that has touched that shrunken form which so despondingly
+waits the coming of a messenger of mercy. That system of cruelty to
+prisoners which so disgraced England during the last century, and which
+for her name she would were erased from her history, we preserve here in
+all its hideousness. The Governor knows nothing, and cares nothing about
+the prison; the Attorney-General never darkens its doors; the public
+scarce give a thought for those within its walls&mdash;and to one man, Mr.
+Hardscrabble, is the fate of these wretched beings entrusted. And so
+prone has become the appetite of man to speculate on the misfortunes of
+his fellow-man, that this good man, as we shall call him, tortures thus
+the miserable beings entrusted to his keeping, and makes it a means of
+getting rich. Pardon, reader, this digression.</p>
+
+<p>George, elated with the idea of setting Tom at liberty, found the young
+theologian at the prison, and revealed to him the fact that he had got
+the much-desired order. To the latter this seemed strange&mdash;not that such
+a person as George could have succeeded in what he had tried in vain to
+effect, but that there was a mystery about it. It is but justice to say
+that the young theologian had for six months used every exertion in his
+power, without avail, to procure an order of release. He had appealed to
+the Attorney-General, who declared himself powerless, but referred him
+to the Governor. The Governor could take no action in the premises, and
+referred him to the Judge of the Sessions. The Judge of the Sessions
+doubted his capacity to interfere, and advised a petition to the Clerk
+of the Court. The Clerk of the Court, who invariably took it upon
+himself to correct the judge's dictum, decided that the judge could not
+interfere, the case being a committal by a Justice of the Peace, and not
+having been before the sessions. And against these high
+functionaries&mdash;the Governor, Attorney-General, Judge of the Sessions,
+and Clerk of the Court, was Mr. Soloman and Mrs. Swiggs all-powerful.
+There was, however, another power superior to all, and that we have
+described in the previous chapter.</p>
+
+<p>Accompanied by the brusque old jailer, George and the young theologian
+make their way to the cell in which Tom is confined.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo! Tom," exclaims George, as he enters the cell, "boarding at the
+expense of the State yet, eh?" Tom lay stretched on a blanket in one
+corner of the cell, his faithful old friend, the sailor, watching over
+him with the solicitude of a brother. "I don't know how he'd got on if
+it hadn't bin for the old sailor, yonder," says the jailer, pointing to
+Spunyarn, who is crouched down at the great black fireplace, blowing the
+coals under a small pan. "He took to Tom when he first came in, and
+hasn't left him for a day. He'll steal to supply Tom's hunger, and fight
+if a prisoner attempts to impose upon his charge. He has rigged him out,
+you see, with his pea-coat and overalls," continues the man, folding his
+arms.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sorry, Tom&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," says Tom, interrupting the young theologian, "I know you are. You
+don't find me to have kept my word; and because I haven't you don't find
+me improved much. I can't get out; and if I can't get out, what's the
+use of my trying to improve? I don't say this because I don't want to
+improve. I have no one living who ought to care for me, but my mother.
+And she has shown what she cares for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Everything is well. (The young theologian takes Tom by the hand.) We
+have got your release. You are a free man, now."</p>
+
+<p>"My release!" exclaims the poor outcast, starting to his feet, "my
+release?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," kindly interposes the jailer, "you may go, Tom. Stone walls,
+bolts and chains have no further use for you." The announcement brings
+tears to his eyes; he cannot find words to give utterance to his
+emotions. He drops the young theologian's hand, grasps warmly that of
+George Mullholland, and says, the tears falling fast down his cheeks,
+"now I will be a new man."</p>
+
+<p>"God bless Tom," rejoins the old sailor, who has left the fireplace and
+joined in the excitement of the moment. "I alwas sed there war better
+weather ahead, Tom." He pats him encouragingly on the shoulder, and
+turns to the bystanders, continuing with a childlike frankness: "he's
+alwas complained with himself about breaking his word and honor with
+you, sir&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The young theologian says the temptation was more than he could
+withstand.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes sir!&mdash;that was it. He, poor fellow, wasn't to blame. One brought
+him in a drop, and challenged him; then another brought him in a drop,
+and challenged him; and the vote-cribber would get generous now and
+then, and bring him a drop, saying how he would like to crib him if he
+was only out, on the general election coming on, and make him take a
+drop of what he called election whiskey. And you know, sir, it's hard
+for a body to stand up against all these things, specially when a body's
+bin disappointed in love. It's bin a hard up and down with him. To-day
+he would make a bit of good weather, and to-morrow he'd be all up in a
+hurricane." And the old sailor takes a fresh quid of tobacco, wipes
+Tom's face, gets the brush and fusses over him, and tells him to cheer
+up, now that he has got his clearance.</p>
+
+<p>"Tom would know if his mother ordered it."</p>
+
+<p>"No! she must not know that you are at large," rejoins George.</p>
+
+<p>"Not that I am at large?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have," interposes the young theologian, "provided a place for you. We
+have a home for you, a snug little place at the house of old McArthur&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Old McArthur," interpolates Tom, smiling, "I'm not a curiosity."</p>
+
+<p>George Mullholland says he may make love to Maria, that she will once
+more be a sister. Touched by the kindly act on his behalf, Tom replies
+saying she was always kind to him, watched over him when no one else
+would, and sought with tender counsels to effect his reform, to make him
+forget his troubles.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you!&mdash;my heart thanks you more forcibly than my tongue can. I
+feel a man. I won't touch drink again: no I won't. You won't find me
+breaking my honor this time. A sick at heart man, like me, has no power
+to buffet disappointment. I was a wretch, and like a wretch without a
+mother's sympathy, found relief only in drinks&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And such drinks!" interposes the old sailor, shrugging his shoulders.
+"Good weather, and a cheer up, now and then, from a friend, would have
+saved him."</p>
+
+<p>Now there appears in the doorway, the stalworth figure of the
+vote-cribber, who, with sullen face, advances mechanically toward Tom,
+pauses and regards him with an air of suspicion. "You are not what you
+ought to be, Tom," he says, doggedly, and turns to the young Missionary.
+"Parson," he continues, "this 'ere pupil of yourn's a hard un. He isn't
+fit for respectable society. Like a sponge, he soaks up all the whiskey
+in jail." The young man turns upon him a look more of pity than scorn,
+while the jailer shakes his head admonishingly. The vote-cribber
+continues insensible to the admonition. He, be it known, is a character
+of no small importance in the political world. Having a sort of sympathy
+for the old jail he views his transient residences therein rather
+necessary than otherwise. As a leading character is necessary to every
+grade of society, so also does he plume himself the aristocrat of the
+prison. Persons committed for any other than offences against the
+election laws, he holds in utter contempt. Indeed, he says with a good
+deal of truth, that as fighting is become the all necessary
+qualification of our Senators and Representatives to Congress, he thinks
+of offering himself for the next vacancy. The only rival he fears is
+"handsome Charley."<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> The accommodations are not what they might be,
+but, being exempt from rent and other items necessary to a prominent
+politician, he accepts them as a matter of economy.</p>
+
+<p>The vote-cribber is sure of being set free on the approach of an
+election. We may as well confess it before the world&mdash;he is an
+indispensable adjunct to the creating, of Legislators, Mayors,
+Congressmen, and Governors. Whiskey is not more necessary to the
+reputation of our mob-politicians than are the physical powers of Milman
+Mingle to the success of the party he honors with his services. Nor do
+his friends scruple at consulting him on matters of great importance to
+the State while in his prison sanctuary.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm out to-morrow, parson," he resumes; the massive fingers of his
+right hand wandering into his crispy, red beard, and again over his
+scarred face. "Mayor's election comes off two weeks from
+Friday&mdash;couldn't do without me&mdash;can knock down any quantity of men&mdash;you
+throw a plumper, I take it?" The young Missionary answers in the
+negative by shaking his head, while the kind old sailor continues to
+fuss over and prepare Tom for his departure. "Tom is about to leave us,"
+says the old sailor, by way of diverting the vote-cribber's attention.
+That dignitary, so much esteemed by our fine old statesmen, turns to
+Tom, and inquires if he has a vote.</p>
+
+<p>Tom has a vote, but declares he will not give it to the vote-cribber's
+party. The politician says "p'raps," and draws from his bosom a small
+flask. "Whiskey, Tom," he says,&mdash;"no use offering it to parsons, eh? (he
+casts an insinuating look at the parson.) First-chop election whiskey&mdash;a
+sup and we're friends until I get you safe under the lock of my crib.
+Our Senators to Congress patronize this largely." The forlorn freeman,
+with a look of contempt for the man who thus upbraids him, dashes the
+drug upon the floor, to the evident chagrin of the politician, who, to
+conceal his feelings, turns to George Mulholland, and mechanically
+inquires if <i>he</i> has a vote. Being answered in the negative, he picks up
+his flask and walks away, saying: "what rubbish!"</p>
+
+<p>Accompanied by his friends and the old sailor, Tom sallies forth into
+the atmosphere of sweet freedom. As the old jailer swings back the outer
+gate, Spunyarn grasps his friend and companion in sorrow warmly by the
+hand, his bronzed face brightens with an air of satisfaction, and like
+pure water gushing from the rude rock his eyes fill with tears. How
+honest, how touching, how pure the friendly lisp&mdash;good bye! "Keep up a
+strong heart, Tom,&mdash;never mind me. I don't know by what right I'm kept
+here, and starved; but I expect to get out one of these days; and when I
+do you may reckon on me as your friend. Keep the craft in good trim till
+then; don't let the devil get master. Come and see us now and then, and
+above all, never give up the ship during a storm." Tom's emotions are
+too deeply touched. He has no reply to make, but presses in silence the
+hand of the old sailor, takes his departure, and turns to wave him an
+adieu.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XVII.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>IN WHICH THERE IS AN INTERESTING MEETING.</p>
+
+
+<p>Our very chivalric dealers in human merchandise, like philosophers and
+philanthropists, are composed merely of flesh and blood, while their
+theories are alike influenced by circumstances. Those of the first, we
+(the South) are, at times, too apt to regard as sublimated and refined,
+while we hold the practices of the latter such as divest human nature of
+everything congenial. Nevertheless we can assure our readers that there
+does not exist a class of men who so much pride themselves on their
+chivalry as some of our opulent slave-dealers. Did we want proof to
+sustain what we have said we could not do better than refer to Mr.
+Forsheu, that very excellent gentleman. Mrs. Swiggs held him in high
+esteem, and so far regarded his character for piety and chivalry
+unblemished, that she consigned to him her old slave of seventy
+years&mdash;old Molly. Molly must be sold, the New York Tract Society must
+have a mite, and Sister Abijah Slocum's very laudable enterprise of
+getting Brother Singleton Spyke off to Antioch must be encouraged. And
+Mr. Forsheu is very kind to the old people he sells. It would, indeed,
+be difficult for the distant reader to conceive a more striking instance
+of a man, grown rich in a commerce that blunts all the finer qualities
+of our nature, preserving a gentleness, excelled only by his real
+goodness of heart.</p>
+
+<p>When the old slave, leaning on her crutch, stood before Mr. Forsheu, her
+face the very picture of age and starvation, his heart recoiled at the
+thought of selling her in her present condition. He read the letter she
+bore, contemplated her with an air of pity, and turning to Mr. Benbow,
+his methodical book-keeper of twenty years, who had added and subtracted
+through a wilderness of bodies and souls, ordered him to send the
+shrunken old woman into the pen, on feed. Mr. Forsheu prided himself on
+the quality of people sold at his shambles, and would not for the world
+hazard his reputation on old Molly, till she was got in better
+condition. Molly rather liked this, inasmuch as she had been fed on corn
+and prayers exclusively, and more prayers than corn, which is become the
+fashion with our much-reduced first families. For nearly four months she
+enjoyed, much to the discomfiture of her august owner, the comforts of
+Mr. Forsheu's pen. Daily did the anxious old lady study her Milton, and
+dispatch a slave to inquire if her piece of aged property had found a
+purchaser. The polite vender preserved, with uncommon philosophy, his
+temper. He enjoined patience. The condition and age of the property
+were, he said, much in the way of sale. Then Mrs. Swiggs began
+questioning his ability as a merchant. Aspersions of this kind, the
+polite vender of people could not bear with. He was a man of enormous
+wealth, the result of his skill in the sale of people. He was the
+president of an insurance company, a bank director, a commissioner of
+the orphan asylum, and a steward of the jockey club. To his great
+relief, for he began to have serious misgivings about his outlay on old
+Molly, there came along one day an excellent customer. This was no less
+a person than Madame Flamingo. What was singular of this very
+distinguished lady was, that she always had a use for old slaves no one
+else ever thought of. Her yard was full of aged and tottering humanity.
+One cleaned knives, another fetched ice from the ice-house, a third
+blacked boots, a fourth split wood, a fifth carried groceries, and a
+sixth did the marketing. She had a decayed negro for the smallest
+service; and, to her credit be it said, they were as contented and well
+fed a body of tottering age as could be found in old Carolina.</p>
+
+<p>Her knife-cleaning machine having taken it into his head to die one day,
+she would purchase another. Mr Forsheu, with that urbanity we so well
+understand how to appreciate, informed the distinguished lady that he
+had an article exactly suited to her wants. Forthwith, Molly was
+summoned into her presence. Madame Flamingo, moved almost to tears at
+the old slave's appearance, purchased her out of pure sympathy, as we
+call it, and to the great relief of Mr. Forsheu, lost no time in paying
+one hundred and forty dollars down in gold for her. In deference to Mr.
+Hadger, the House of The Foreign Missions, and the very excellent Tract
+Society, of New York, we will not here extend on how the money was got.
+The transaction was purely commercial: why should humanity interpose? We
+hold it strictly legal that institutions created for the purpose of
+enlightening the heathen have no right to ask by what means the money
+constituting their donations is got.</p>
+
+<p>The comforts of Mr. Forsheu's pen,&mdash;the hominy, grits, and rest, made
+the old slave quite as reluctant about leaving him as she had before
+been in parting with Lady Swiggs. Albeit, she shook his hand with equal
+earnestness, and lisped "God bless Massa," with a tenderness and
+simplicity so touching, that had not Madame Flamingo been an excellent
+diplomat, reconciling the matter by assuring her that she would get
+enough to eat, and clothes to wear, no few tears would have been shed.
+Madame, in addition to this incentive, intimated that she might attend a
+prayer meeting now and then&mdash;perhaps see Cicero. However, Molly could
+easily have forgotten Cicero, inasmuch as she had enjoyed the rare
+felicity of thirteen husbands, all of whom Lady Swiggs had sold when it
+suited her own convenience.</p>
+
+<p>Having made her purchase, Madame very elegantly bid the gallant merchant
+good morning, hoping he would not forget her address, and call round
+when it suited his convenience. Mr. Forsheu, his hat doffed, escorted
+her to her carriage, into the amber-colored lining of which she
+gracefully settled her majestic self, as a slightly-browned gentleman in
+livery closed the bright door, took her order with servile bows, and
+having motioned to the coachman, the carriage rolled away, and was soon
+out of sight. Monsieur Gronski, it may be well to add here, was
+discovered curled up in one corner; he smiled, and extended his hand
+very graciously to Madame as she entered the carriage.</p>
+
+<p>Like a pilgrim in search of some promised land, Molly adjusted her
+crutch, and over the sandy road trudged, with truculent face, to her new
+home, humming to herself "dah-is-a-time-a-comin, den da Lor' he be
+good!!"</p>
+
+<p>On the following morning, Lady Swiggs received her account current, Mr.
+Forsheu being exceedingly prompt in business. There was one hundred and
+twenty-nine days' feed, commissions, advertising, and sundry smaller
+charges, which reduced the net balance to one hundred and three dollars.
+Mrs. Swiggs, with an infatuation kindred to that which finds the State
+blind to its own poverty, stubbornly refused to believe her slaves had
+declined in value. Hence she received the vender's account with surprise
+and dissatisfaction. However, the sale being binding, she gradually
+accommodated her mind to the result, and began evolving the question of
+how to make the amount meet the emergency. She must visit the great city
+of New York; she must see Sister Slocum face to face; Brother Spyke's
+mission must have fifty dollars; how much could she give the Tract
+Society? Here was a dilemma&mdash;one which might have excited the sympathy
+of the House of the "Foreign Missions." The dignity of the family, too,
+was at stake. Many sleepless nights did this difficult matter cause the
+august old lady. She thought of selling another cripple! Oh! that would
+not do. Mr. Keepum had a lien on them; Mr. Keepum was a man of
+iron-heart. Suddenly it flashed upon her mind that she had already been
+guilty of a legal wrong in selling old Molly. Mr. Soloman had doubtless
+described her with legal minuteness in the bond of security for the two
+hundred dollars. Her decrepit form; her corrugated face; her heavy lip;
+her crutch, and her piety&mdash;everything, in a word, but her starvation,
+had been set down. Well! Mr. Soloman might, she thought, overlook in the
+multiplicity of business so small a discrepancy. She, too, had a large
+circle of distinguished friends. If the worst came to the worst she
+would appeal to them. There, too, was Sir Sunderland Swiggs' portrait,
+very valuable for its age; she might sell the family arms, such things
+being in great demand with the chivalry; her antique furniture, too,
+was highly prized by our first families. Thus Lady Swiggs contemplated
+these mighty relics of past greatness. Our celtic Butlers and Brookses
+never recurred to the blood of their querulous ancestors with more awe
+than did this memorable lady to her decayed relics. Mr. Israel Moses,
+she cherished a hope, would give a large sum for the portrait; the
+family arms he would value at a high figure; the old furniture he would
+esteem a prize. But to Mr. Moses and common sense, neither the blood of
+the Butlers, nor Lady Swiggs' rubbish, were safe to loan money upon. The
+Hebrew gentleman was not so easily beguiled.</p>
+
+<p>The time came when it was necessary to appeal to Mr. Hadger. That
+gentleman held the dignity of the Swiggs family in high esteem, but
+shook his head when he found the respectability of the house the only
+security offered in exchange for a loan. Ah! a thought flashed to her
+relief, the family watch and chain would beguile the Hebrew gentleman.
+With these cherished mementoes of the high old family, (she would under
+no other circumstance have parted with for uncounted gold,) she in time
+seduced Mr. Israel Moses to make a small advance. Duty, stern and
+demanding, called her to New York. Forced to reduce her generosity, she,
+not without a sigh, made up her mind to give only thirty dollars to each
+of the institutions she had made so many sacrifices to serve. And thus,
+with a reduced platform, as our politicians have it, she set about
+preparing for the grand journey. Regards the most distinguished were
+sent to all the first families; the St. Cecilia had notice of her
+intended absence; no end of tea parties were given in honor of the
+event. Apparently happy with herself, with every one but poor Tom, our
+august lady left in the Steamer one day. With a little of that vanity
+the State deals so largely in, Mrs. Swiggs thought every passenger on
+board wondering and staring at her.</p>
+
+<p>While then she voyages and dreams of the grand reception waiting her in
+New York,&mdash;of Sister Slocum's smiles, of the good of the heathen world,
+and of those nice evening gatherings she will enjoy with the pious, let
+us, gentle reader, look in at the house of Absalom McArthur.</p>
+
+<p>To-day Tom Swiggs feels himself free, and it is high noon. Downcast of
+countenance he wends his way along the fashionable side of King-street.
+The young theologian is at his side. George Mullholland has gone to the
+house of Madame Flamingo. He will announce the glad news to Anna. The
+old antiquarian dusts his little counter with a stubby broom, places
+various curiosities in the windows, and about the doors, stands
+contemplating them with an air of satisfaction, then proceeds to drive a
+swarm of flies that hover upon the ceiling, into a curiously-arranged
+trap that he has set.</p>
+
+<p>"What!&mdash;my young friend, Tom Swiggs!" exclaims the old man, toddling
+toward Tom, and grasping firmly his hand, as he enters the door. "You
+are welcome to my little place, which shall be a home." Tom hangs down
+his head, receives the old man's greeting with shyness. "Your poor
+father and me, Tom, used to sit here many a time. (The old man points to
+an old sofa.) We were friends. He thought much of me, and I had a high
+opinion of him; and so we used to sit for hours, and talk over the deeds
+of the old continentals. Your mother and him didn't get along over-well
+together; she had more dignity than he could well digest: but that is
+neither here nor there."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope, in time," interrupts Tom, "to repay your kindness. I am willing
+to ply myself to work, though it degrades one in the eyes of our
+society."</p>
+
+<p>"As to that," returns the old man, "why, don't mention it. Maria, you
+know, will be a friend to you. Come away now and see her." And taking
+Tom by the hand, (the theologian has withdrawn,) he becomes
+enthusiastic, leads him through the dark, narrow passage into the back
+parlor, where he is met by Maria, and cordially welcomed. "Why, Tom,
+what a change has come over you," she ejaculates, holding his hand, and
+viewing him with the solicitude of a sister, who hastens to embrace a
+brother returned after a long absence. Letting fall his begrimed hand,
+she draws up the old-fashioned rocking chair, and bids him be seated. He
+shakes his head moodily, says he is not so bad as he seems, and hopes
+yet to make himself worthy of her kindness. He has been the associate of
+criminals; he has suffered punishment; he feels himself loathed by
+society; he cannot divest himself of the odium clinging to his garments.
+Fain would he go to some distant clime, and there seek a refuge from the
+odium of felons.</p>
+
+<p>"Let no such thoughts enter your mind, Tom," says the affectionate girl;
+"divest yourself at once of feelings that can only do you injury. You
+have engaged my thoughts during your troubles. Twice I begged your
+mother to honor me with an interview. We were humble people; she
+condescended at last. But she turned a deaf ear to me when I appealed to
+her for your release, merely inquiring if&mdash;like that other jade&mdash;I had
+become enamored of&mdash;" Maria pauses, blushing.</p>
+
+<p>"I would like to see my mother," interposes Tom.</p>
+
+<p>"Had I belonged to our grand society, the case had been different,"
+resumes Maria.</p>
+
+<p>"Truly, Maria," stammers Tom, "had I supposed there was one in the world
+who cared for me, I had been a better man."</p>
+
+<p>"As to that, why we were brought up together, Tom. We knew each other as
+children, and what else but respect could I have for you? One never
+knows how much others think of them, for the&mdash;" Maria blushes, checks
+herself, and watches the changes playing over Tom's countenance. She was
+about to say the tongue of love was too often silent.</p>
+
+<p>It must be acknowledged that Maria had, for years, cherished a passion
+for Tom. He, however, like many others of his class, was too stupid to
+discover it. The girl, too, had been overawed by the dignity of his
+mother. Thus, with feelings of pain did she watch the downward course of
+one in whose welfare she took a deep interest.</p>
+
+<p>"Very often those for whom we cherish the fondest affections, are
+coldest in their demeanor towards us," pursues Maria.</p>
+
+<p>"Can she have thought of me so much as to love me?" Tom questions within
+himself; and Maria put an end to the conversation by ringing the bell,
+commanding the old servant to hasten dinner. A plate must be placed at
+the table for Tom.</p>
+
+<p>The antiquarian, having, as he says, left the young people to
+themselves, stands at his counter furbishing up sundry old engravings,
+horse-pistols, pieces of coat-of-mail, and two large scimitars, all of
+which he has piled together in a heap, and beside which lay several
+chapeaus said to have belonged to distinguished Britishers. Mr. Soloman
+suddenly makes his appearance in the little shop, much to Mr. McArthur's
+surprise. "Say&mdash;old man! centurion!" he exclaims, in a maudlin laugh,
+"Keepum's in the straps&mdash;is, I do declare; Gadsden and he bought a lot
+of niggers&mdash;a monster drove of 'em, on shares. He wants that trifle of
+borrowed money&mdash;must have it. Can have it back in a few days."</p>
+
+<p>"Bless me," interrupts the old man, confusedly, "but off my little
+things it will be hard to raise it. Times is hard, our people go, like
+geese, to the North. They get rid of all their money there, and their
+fancy&mdash;you know that, Mr. Snivel&mdash;is abroad, while they have, for home,
+only a love to keep up slavery."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it would come to that," says Mr. Snivel, facetiously. The
+antiquarian seems bewildered, commences offering excuses that rather
+involve himself deeper, and finally concludes by pleading for a delay.
+Scarce any one would have thought a person of Mr. McArthur's position,
+indebted to Mr. Keepum; but so it was. It is very difficult to tell
+whose negroes are not mortgaged to Mr. Keepum, how many mortgages of
+plantation he has foreclosed, how many high old families he has reduced
+to abject poverty, or how many poor but respectable families he has
+disgraced. He has a reputation for loaning money to parents, that he may
+rob their daughters of that jewel the world refuses to give them back.
+And yet our best society honor him, fawn over him, and bow to him. We so
+worship the god of slavery, that our minds are become debased, and yet
+we seem unconscious of it. Mr. Keepum did not lend money to the old
+antiquarian without a purpose. That purpose, that justice which
+accommodates itself to the popular voice, will aid him in gaining.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel affects a tone of moderation, whispers in the old man's ear,
+and says: "Mind you tell the fortune of this girl, Bonard, as I have
+directed. Study what I have told you. If she be not the child of Madame
+Montford, then no faith can be put in likenesses. I have got in my
+possession what goes far to strengthen the suspicions now rife
+concerning the fashionable New Yorker."</p>
+
+<p>"There surely is a mystery about this woman, Mr. Snivel, as you say. She
+has so many times looked in here to inquire about Mag Munday, a woman in
+a curious line of life who came here, got down in the world, as they all
+do, and used now and then to get the loan of a trifle from me to keep
+her from starvation." (Mr. Snivel says, in parentheses, he knows all
+about her.)</p>
+
+<p>"Ha! ha! my old boy," says Mr. Snivel, frisking his fingers through his
+light Saxon beard, "I have had this case in hand for some time. It is
+strictly a private matter, nevertheless. They are a bad lot&mdash;them New
+Yorkers, who come here to avoid their little delicate affairs. I may yet
+make a good thing out of this, though. As for that fellow, Mullholland,
+I intend getting him the whipping post. He is come to be the associate
+of gentlemen; men high in office shower upon him their favors. It is all
+to propitiate the friendship of Bonard&mdash;I know it." Mr. Snivel concludes
+hurriedly, and departs into the street, as our scene changes.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XVIII.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>ANNA BONARD SEEKS AN INTERVIEW WITH THE ANTIQUARY.</p>
+
+
+<p>It is night. King street seems in a melancholy mood, the blue arch of
+heaven is bespangled with twinkling stars, the moon has mounted her high
+throne, and her beams, like messengers of love, dance joyously over the
+calm waters of the bay, so serenely skirted with dark woodland. The dull
+tramp of the guardman's horse now breaks the stillness; then the
+measured tread of the heavily-armed patrol, with which the city swarms
+at night, echoes and re-echoes along the narrow streets. A theatre
+reeking with the fumes of whiskey and tobacco; a sombre-looking
+guard-house, bristling with armed men, who usher forth to guard the
+fears of tyranny, or drag in some wretched slave; a dilapidated "Court
+House," at the corner, at which lazy-looking men lounge; a castellated
+"Work House," so grand without, and so full of bleeding hearts within; a
+"Poor House" on crutches, and in which infirm age and poverty die of
+treatment that makes the heart sicken&mdash;these are all the public
+buildings we can boast. Like ominous mounds, they seem sleeping in the
+calm and serene night. Ah! we had almost forgotten the sympathetic old
+hospital, with its verandas; the crabbed looking "City Hall," with its
+port holes; and the "Citadel," in which, when our youths have learned to
+fight duels, we learn them how to fight their way out of the Union.
+Duelling is our high art; getting out of the Union is our low. And, too,
+we have, and make no small boast that we have, two or three buildings
+called "Halls." In these our own supper-eating men riot, our soldiers
+drill (soldiering is our presiding genius), and our mob-politicians
+waste their spleen against the North. Unlike Boston, towering all bright
+and vigorous in the atmosphere of freedom, we have no galleries of
+statuary; no conservatories of paintings; no massive edifices of marble,
+dedicated to art and science; no princely school-houses, radiating their
+light of learning over a peace and justice-loving community; no majestic
+exchange, of granite and polished marble, so emblematic of a thrifty
+commerce;&mdash;we have no regal "State House" on the lofty hill, no
+glittering colleges everywhere striking the eye. The god of slavery&mdash;the
+god we worship, has no use for such temples; public libraries are his
+prison; his civilization is like a dull dead march; he is the enemy of
+his own heart, vitiating and making drear whatever he touches. He wages
+war on art, science, civilization! he trembles at the sight of temples
+reared for the enlightening of the masses. Tyranny is his law, a
+cotton-bag his judgment-seat. But we pride ourselves that we are a
+respectable people&mdash;what more would you have us?</p>
+
+<p>The night is chilly without, in the fireplace of the antiquary's back
+parlor there burns a scanty wood fire. Tom has eaten his supper and
+retired to a little closet-like room overhead, where, in bed, he muses
+over what fell from Maria's lips, in their interview. Did she really
+cherish a passion for him? had her solicitude in years past something
+more than friendship in it? what did she mean? He was not one of those
+whose place in a woman's heart could never be supplied. How would an
+alliance with Maria affect his mother's dignity? All these things Tom
+evolves over and over in his mind. In point of position, a mechanic's
+daughter was not far removed from the slave; a mechanic's daughter was
+viewed only as a good object of seduction for some nice young gentleman.
+Antiquarians might get a few bows of planter's sons, the legal gentry,
+and cotton brokers (these make up our aristocracy), but practically no
+one would think of admitting them into decent society. They, of right,
+belong to that vulgar herd that live by labor at which the slave can be
+employed. To be anything in the eyes of good society, you must only live
+upon the earnings of slaves.</p>
+
+<p>"Why," says Tom, "should I consult the dignity of a mother who discards
+me? The love of this lone daughter of the antiquary, this girl who
+strives to know my wants, and to promote my welfare, rises superior to
+all. I will away with such thoughts! I will be a man!" Maria, with eager
+eye and thoughtful countenance, sits at the little antique centre-table,
+reading Longfellow's Evangeline, by the pale light of a candle. A lurid
+glare is shed over the cavern-like place. The reflection plays curiously
+upon the corrugated features of the old man, who, his favorite cat at
+his side, reclines on a stubby little sofa, drawn well up to the fire.
+The poet would not select Maria as his ideal of female loveliness; and
+yet there is a touching modesty in her demeanor, a sweet smile ever
+playing over her countenance, an artlessness in her conversation that
+more than makes up for the want of those charms novel writers are
+pleased to call transcendent. "Father!" she says, pausing, "some one
+knocks at the outer door." The old man starts and listens, then hastens
+to open it. There stands before him the figure of a strange female,
+veiled. "I am glad to find you, old man. Be not suspicious of my coming
+at this hour, for my mission is a strange one." The old man's crooked
+eyes flash, his deep curling lip quivers, his hand vibrates the candle
+he holds before him. "If on a mission to do nobody harm," he responds,
+"then you are welcome." "You will pardon me; I have seen you before. You
+have wished me well," she whispers in a musical voice. Gracefully she
+raises her veil over her Spanish hood, and advances cautiously, as the
+old man closes the door behind her. Then she uncovers her head,
+nervously. The white, jewelled fingers of her right hand, so delicate
+and tapering, wander over and smooth her silky black hair, that falls in
+waves over her Ion-like brow. How exquisite those features just
+revealed; how full of soul those flashing black eyes; her dress, how
+chaste! "They call me Anna Bonard," she speaks, timorously, "you may
+know me?&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know you well," interrupts the old man, "your beauty has made you
+known. What more would you have?"</p>
+
+<p>"Something that will make me happy. Old man, I am unhappy. Tell me, if
+you have the power, who I am. Am I an orphan, as has been told me; or
+have I parents yet living, affluent, and high in society? Do they seek
+me and cannot find me? Oh! let the fates speak, old man, for this world
+has given me nothing but pain and shame. Am I&mdash;" she pauses, her eyes
+wander to the floor, her cheeks crimson, she seizes the old man by the
+hand, and her bosom heaves as if a fierce passion had just been kindled
+within it.</p>
+
+<p>The old man preserves his equanimity, says he has a fortune to tell her.
+Fortunes are best told at midnight. The stars, too, let out their
+secrets more willingly when the night-king rules. He bids her follow
+him, and totters back to the little parlor. With a wise air, he bids her
+be seated on the sofa, saying he never mistakes maidens when they call
+at this hour.</p>
+
+<p>Maria, who rose from the table at the entrance of the stranger, bows,
+shuts her book mechanically, and retires. Can there be another face so
+lovely? she questions within herself, as she pauses to contemplate the
+stranger ere she disappears. The antiquary draws a chair and seats
+himself beside Anna. "Thy life and destiny," he says, fretting his bony
+fingers over the crown of his wig. "Blessed is the will of providence
+that permits us to know the secrets of destiny. Give me your hand, fair
+lady." Like a philosopher in deep study, he wipes and adjusts his
+spectacles, then takes her right hand and commences reading its lines.
+"Your history is an uncommon one&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," interrupts the girl, "mine has been a chequered life."</p>
+
+<p>"You have seen sorrow enough, but will see more. You come of good
+parents; but, ah!&mdash;there is a mystery shrouding your birth." ("And that
+mystery," interposes the girl, "I want to have explained.") "There will
+come a woman to reclaim you&mdash;a woman in high life; but she will come too
+late&mdash;" (The girl pales and trembles.) "Yes," pursues the old man,
+looking more studiously at her hand, "she will come too late. You will
+have admirers, and even suitors; but they will only betray you, and in
+the end you will die of trouble. Ah! there is a line that had escaped
+me. You may avert this dark destiny&mdash;yes, you may escape the end that
+fate has ordained for you. In neglect you came up, the companion of a
+man you think true to you. But he is not true to you. Watch him, follow
+him&mdash;you will yet find him out. Ha! ha! ha! these men are not to be
+trusted, my dear. There is but one man who really loves you. He is an
+old man, a man of station. He is your only true friend. I here see it
+marked." He crosses her hand, and says there can be no mistaking it.
+"With that man, fair girl, you may escape the dark destiny. But, above
+all things, do not treat him coldly. And here I see by the sign that
+Anna Bonard is not your name. The name was given you by a wizard."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right, old man," speaks Anna, raising thoughtfully her great
+black eyes, as the antiquary pauses and watches each change of her
+countenance; "that name was given me by Hag Zogbaum, when I was a child
+in her den, in New York, and when no one cared for me. What my right
+name was has now slipped my memory. I was indeed a wretched child, and
+know little of myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Was it Munday?" inquires the old man. Scarce has he lisped the name
+before she catches it up and repeats it, incoherently, "Munday! Munday!
+Munday!" her eyes flash with anxiety. "Ah, I remember now. I was called
+Anna Munday by Mother Bridges. I lived with her before I got to the den
+of Hag Zogbaum. And Mother Bridges sold apples at a stand at the corner
+of a street, on West street. It seems like a dream to me now. I do not
+want to recall those dark days or my childhood. Have you not some
+revelation to make respecting my parents?" The old man says the signs
+will not aid him further. "On my arm," she pursues, baring her white,
+polished arm, "there is a mark. I know not who imprinted it there. See,
+old man." The old man sees high up on her right arm two hearts and a
+broken anchor, impressed with India ink blue and red. "Yes," repeats the
+antiquary, viewing it studiously, "but it gives out no history. If you
+could remember who put it there." Of that she has no recollection. The
+old man cannot relieve her anxiety, and arranging her hood she bids him
+good night, forces a piece of gold into his hand, and seeks her home,
+disappointed.</p>
+
+<p>The antiquary's predictions were founded on what Mr. Soloman Snivel had
+told him, and that gentleman got what he knew of Anna's history from
+George Mullholland. To this, however, he added what suggestions his
+suspicions gave rise to. The similarity of likeness between Anna and
+Madame Montford was striking; Madame Montford's mysterious searches and
+inquiries for the woman Munday had something of deep import in them. Mag
+Munday's strange disappearance from Charleston, and her previous
+importuning for the old dress left in pawn with McArthur, were not to be
+overlooked. These things taken together, and Mr. Snivel saw a case there
+could be no mistaking. That case became stronger when his fashionable
+friend engaged his services to trace out what had become of the woman
+Mag Munday, and to further ascertain what the girl Anna Bonard knew of
+her own history.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XIX.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>A SECRET INTERVIEW.</p>
+
+
+<p>While the scene we have related in the foregoing chapter was being
+enacted, there might be seen pacing the great colonnade of the
+Charleston hotel, the tall figure of a man wrapped in a massive talma.
+Heedless of the throng of drinkers gathered in the spacious bar-room,
+making the very air echo with their revelry, he pauses every few
+moments, watches intently up and then down Meeting street, now
+apparently contemplating the twinkling stars, then turning as if
+disappointed, and resuming his sallies. "He will not come to night," he
+mutters, as he pauses at the "Ladies' door," then turns and rings the
+bell. The well-dressed and highly-perfumed servant who guards the door,
+admits him with a scrutinizing eye. "Beg pardon," he says, with a
+mechanical bow. He recognizes the stranger, bows, and motions his hands.
+"Twice," continues the servant, "she has sent a messenger to inquire of
+your coming." The figure in the talma answers with a bow, slips something
+into the hand of the servant, passes softly up the great stairs, and is
+soon lost to sight. In another minute he enters, without knocking, a
+spacious parlor, decorated and furnished most sumptuously. "How
+impatiently I have waited your coming," whispers, cautiously, a
+richly-dressed lady, as she rises from a velvet covered lounge, on which
+she had reclined, and extends her hand to welcome him.</p>
+
+<p>"Madame, your most obedient," returns the man, bowing and holding her
+delicate hand in his. "You have something of importance,&mdash;something to
+relieve my mind?" she inquires, watching his lips, trembling, and in
+anxiety. "Nothing definite," he replies, touching her gently on the arm,
+as she begs him to be seated in the great arm-chair. He lays aside his
+talma, places his gloves on the centre-table, which is heaped with an
+infinite variety of delicately-enveloped missives and cards, all
+indicative of her position in fashionable society. "I may say, Madame,
+that I sympathize with you in your anxiety; but as yet I have discovered
+nothing to relieve it." Madame sighs, and draws her chair near him, in
+silence. "That she is the woman you seek I cannot doubt. While on the
+Neck, I penetrated the shanty of one Thompson, a poor mechanic&mdash;our
+white mechanics, you see, are very poor, and not much thought of&mdash;who
+had known her, given her a shelter, and several times saved her from
+starvation. Then she left the neighborhood and took to living with a
+poor wretch of a shoemaker."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor creature," interrupts Madame Montford, for it is she whom Mr.
+Snivel addresses. "If she be dead&mdash;oh, dear! That will be the end. I
+never shall know what became of that child. And to die ignorant of its
+fate will&mdash;" Madame pauses, her color changes, she seems seized with
+some violent emotion. Mr. Snivel perceives her agitation, and begs she
+will remain calm. "If that child had been my own," she resumes, "the
+responsibility had not weighed heavier on my conscience. Wealth,
+position, the pleasures of society&mdash;all sink into insignificance when
+compared with my anxiety for the fate of that child. It is like an arrow
+piercing my heart, like a phantom haunting me in my dreams, like an
+evil spirit waking me at night to tell me I shall die an unhappy woman
+for having neglected one I was bound by the commands of God to
+protect&mdash;to save, perhaps, from a life of shame." She lets fall the
+satin folds of her dress, buries her face in her hands, and gives vent
+to her tears in loud sobs. Mr. Snivel contemplates her agitation with
+unmoved muscle. To him it is a true index to the sequel. "If you will
+pardon me, Madame," he continues, "as I was about to say of this
+miserable shoemaker, he took to drink, as all our white mechanics do,
+and then used to abuse her. We don't think anything of these people, you
+see, who after giving themselves up to whiskey, die in the poor house, a
+terrible death. This shoemaker, of whom I speak, died, and she was
+turned into the streets by her landlord, and that sent her to living
+with a 'yellow fellow,' as we call them. Soon after this she died&mdash;so
+report has it. We never know much, you see, about these common people.
+They are a sort of trash we can make nothing of, and they get terribly
+low now and then." Madame Montford's swelling breast heaves, her
+countenance wears an air of melancholy; again she nervously lays aside
+the cloud-like skirts of her brocade dress. "Have you not," she
+inquires, fretting her jewelled fingers and displaying the massive gold
+bracelets that clasp her wrists, "some stronger evidence of her death?"
+Mr. Snivel says he has none but what he gathered from the negroes and
+poor mechanics, who live in the by-lanes of the city. There is little
+dependence, however, to be placed in such reports. Madame, with an air
+of composure, rises from her chair, and paces twice or thrice across the
+room, seemingly in deep study. "Something," she speaks, stopping
+suddenly in one of her sallies&mdash;"something (I do not know what it is)
+tells me she yet lives: that this is the child we see, living an
+abandoned life."</p>
+
+<p>"As I was going on to say, Madame," pursues Mr. Snivel, with great
+blandness of manner, "when our white trash get to living with our
+negroes they are as well as dead. One never knows what comes of them
+after that. Being always ready to do a bit of a good turn, as you know,
+I looked in at Sam Wiley's cabin. Sam Wiley is a negro of some
+respectability, and generally has an eye to what becomes of these white
+wretches. I don't&mdash;I assure you I don't, Madame&mdash;look into these places
+except on professional business. Sam, after making inquiry among his
+neighbors&mdash;our colored population view these people with no very good
+opinion, when they get down in the world&mdash;said he thought she had found
+her way through the gates of the poor man's graveyard."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor man's graveyard!" repeats Madame Montford, again resuming her
+chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly! We have to distinguish between people of position and those
+white mechanics who come here from the North, get down in the world, and
+then die. We can't sell this sort of people, you see. No keeping their
+morals straight without you can. However, this is not to the point. (Mr.
+Solomon Snivel keeps his eyes intently fixed upon the lady.)</p>
+
+<p>"I sought out the old Sexton, a stupid old cove enough. He had neither
+names on his record nor graves that answered the purpose. In a legal
+sense, Madame, this would not be valid testimony, for this old cove
+being only too glad to get rid of our poor, and the fees into his
+pocket, is not very particular about names. If it were one of our
+'first families,' the old fellow would be so obsequious about having the
+name down square&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel frets his fingers through his beard, and bows with an easy
+grace.</p>
+
+<p>"Our first families!" repeats Madame Montford.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed! He is extremely correct over their funerals. They are of a
+fashionable sort, you see. Well, while I was musing over the decaying
+dead, and the distinction between poor dead and rich dead, there came
+along one Graves, a sort of wayward, half simpleton, who goes about
+among churchyards, makes graves a study, knows where every one who has
+died for the last century is tucked away, and is worth six sextons at
+pointing out graves. He never knows anything about the living, for the
+living, he says, won't let him live; and that being the case, he only
+wants to keep up his acquaintance with the dead. He never has a hat to
+his head, nor a shoe to his foot; and where, and how he lives, no one
+can tell. He has been at the whipping-post a dozen times or more, but
+I'm not so sure that the poor wretch ever did anything to merit such
+punishment. Just as the crabbed old sexton was going to drive him out of
+the gate with a big stick, I says, more in the way of a joke than
+anything else: 'Graves, come here!&mdash;I want a word or two with you.' He
+came up, looking shy and suspicious, and saying he wasn't going to harm
+anybody, but there was some fresh graves he was thinking over."</p>
+
+<p>"Some fresh graves!" repeats Madame Montford, nervously.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless you!&mdash;a very common thing," rejoins Mr. Snivel, with a bow.
+"Well, this lean simpleton said they (the graves) were made while he was
+sick. That being the case, he was deprived&mdash;and he lamented it
+bitterly&mdash;of being present at the funerals, and getting the names of the
+deceased. He is a great favorite with the grave-digger, lends him a
+willing hand on all occasions, and is extremely useful when the yellow
+fever rages. But to the sexton he is a perfect pest, for if a grave be
+made during his absence he will importune until he get the name of the
+departed. 'Graves,' says I, 'where do they bury these unfortunate women
+who die off so, here in Charleston?' 'Bless you, my friend,' says
+Graves, accompanying his words with an idiotic laugh, 'why, there's
+three stacks of them, yonder. They ship them from New York in lots, poor
+things; they dies here in droves, poor things; and we buries them yonder
+in piles, poor things. They go&mdash;yes, sir, I have thought a deal of this
+thing&mdash;fast through life; but they dies, and nobody cares for them&mdash;you
+see how they are buried.' I inquired if he knew all their names. He said
+of course he did. If he didn't, nobody else would. In order to try him,
+I desired he would show me the grave of Mag Munday. He shook his head
+smiled, muttered the name incoherently, and said he thought it sounded
+like a dead name. 'I'll get my thinking right,' he pursued, and
+brightening up all at once, his vacant eyes flashed, then he touched me
+cunningly on the arm, and with a wink and nod of the head there was no
+mistaking, led the way to a great mound located in an obscure part of
+the graveyard&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"A great mound! I thought it would come to that," sighs Madame Montford,
+impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"We bury these wretched creatures in an obscure place. Indeed, Madame, I
+hold it unnecessary to have anything to distinguish them when once they
+are dead. Well, this poor forlorn simpleton then sat down on a grave,
+and bid me sit beside him. I did as he bid me, and soon he went into a
+deep study, muttering the name of Mag Munday the while, until I thought
+he never would stop. So wild and wandering did the poor fellow seem,
+that I began to think it a pity we had not a place, an insane hospital,
+or some sort of benevolent institution, where such poor creatures could
+be placed and cared for. It would be much better than sending them to
+the whipping-post&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I am indeed of your opinion&mdash;of your way of thinking most certainly,"
+interpolates Madame Montford, a shadow of melancholy darkening her
+countenance.</p>
+
+<p>"At length, he went at it, and repeated over an infinite quantity of
+names. It was wonderful to see how he could keep them all in his head.
+'Well, now,' says he, turning to me with an inoffensive laugh, 'she
+ben't dead. You may bet on that. There now!' he spoke, as if suddenly
+becoming conscious of a recently-made discovery. 'Why, she runned wild
+about here, as I does, for a time; was abused and knocked about by
+everybody. Oh, she had a hard time enough, God knows that.' 'But that is
+not disclosing to me what became of her,' says I; 'come, be serious,
+Graves.' (We call him this, you see, Madame, for the reason that he is
+always among graveyards.) Then he went into a singing mood, sang two
+plaintive songs, and had sung a third and fourth, if I had not stopped
+him. 'Well,' he says, 'that woman ain't dead, for I've called up in my
+mind the whole graveyard of names, and her's is not among them. Why not,
+good gentleman, (he seized me by the arm as he said this,) inquire of
+Milman Mingle, the vote-cribber? He is a great politician, never thinks
+of poor Graves, and wouldn't look into a graveyard for the world. The
+vote-cribber used to live with her, and several times he threatened to
+hang her, and would a hanged her&mdash;yes, he would, sir&mdash;if it hadn't a
+been for the neighbors. I don't take much interest in the living, you
+know. But I pitied her, poor thing, for she was to be pitied, and there
+was nobody but me to do it. Just inquire of the vote-cribber.' I knew
+the simpleton never told an untruth, being in no way connected with our
+political parties."</p>
+
+<p>"Never told an untruth, being in no way connected with our political
+parties!" repeats Madame Montford, who has become more calm.</p>
+
+<p>"I gave him a few shillings, he followed me to the gate, and left me
+muttering, 'Go, inquire of the vote-cribber.'"</p>
+
+<p>"And have you found this man?" inquires the anxious lady.</p>
+
+<p>"I forthwith set about it," replies Mr. Snivel, "but as yet, am
+unsuccessful. Nine months during the year his residence is the jail&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The jail!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Madame, the jail. His profession, although essential to the
+elevation of our politicians and statesmen, is nevertheless unlawful.
+And he being obliged to practice it in opposition to the law, quietly
+submits to the penalty, which is a residence in the old prison for a
+short time. It's a nominal thing, you see, and he has become so
+habituated to it that I am inclined to the belief that he prefers it. I
+proceeded to the prison and found he had been released. One of our
+elections comes off in a few days. The approach of such an event is sure
+to find him at large. I sought him in all the drinking saloons, in the
+gambling dens, in the haunts of prostitution&mdash;in all the low places
+where our great politicians most do assemble and debauch themselves. He
+was not to be found. Being of the opposite party, I despatched a spy to
+the haunt of the committee of the party to which he belongs, and for
+which he cribs. I have paced the colonnade for more than an hour,
+waiting the coming of this spy. He did not return, and knowing your
+anxiety in the matter I returned to you. To-morrow I will seek him out;
+to-morrow I will get from him what he knows of this woman you seek.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, Madame, here is something I would have you examine." (Mr.
+Snivel methodically says he got it of McArthur, the antiquary.) "She
+made a great ado about a dress that contained this letter. I have no
+doubt it will tell a tale." Mr. Snivel draws from his breast-pocket the
+letter found concealed in the old dress, and passes it to Madame
+Montford, who receives it with a nervous hand. Her eyes become fixed
+upon it, she glances over its defaced page with an air of bewilderment,
+her face crimsons, then suddenly pales, her lips quiver&mdash;her every nerve
+seems unbending to the shock. "Heavens! has it come to this?" she
+mutters, confusedly. Her strength fails her; the familiar letter falls
+from her fingers.&mdash;For a few moments she seems struggling to suppress
+her emotions, but her reeling brain yields, her features become like
+marble, she shrieks and swoons ere Mr. Snivel has time to clasp her in
+his arms.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XX.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>LADY SWIGGS ENCOUNTERS DIFFICULTIES ON HER ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+<p>A pleasant passage of sixty hours, a good shaking up at the hands of
+that old tyrant, sea-sickness, and Lady Swiggs finds the steamer on
+which she took passage gliding majestically up New York Bay. There she
+sits, in all her dignity, an embodiment of our decayed chivalry, a fair
+representative of our first families. She has taken up her position on
+the upper deck, in front of the wheel house. As one after another the
+objects of beauty that make grand the environs of that noble Bay, open
+to her astonished eyes, she contrasts them favorably or unfavorably with
+some familiar object in Charleston harbor. There is indeed a similarity
+in the conformation. And though ours, she says, may not be so extensive,
+nor so grand in its outlines, nor so calm and soft in its perspective,
+there is a more aristocratic air about it. Smaller bodies are always
+more select and respectable. The captain, to whom she has put an hundred
+and one questions which he answers in monosyllables, is not, she thinks,
+so much of a gentleman as he might have been had he been educated in
+Charleston. He makes no distinction in favor of people of rank.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Swiggs wears that same faded silk dress; her black crape bonnet,
+with two saucy red artificial flowers tucked in at the side, sits so
+jauntily; that dash of brown hair is smoothed so exactly over her
+yellow, shrivelled forehead; her lower jaw oscillates with increased
+motion; and her sharp, gray eyes, as before, peer anxiously through her
+great-eyed spectacles. And, generous reader, that you may not mistake
+her, she has brought her inseparable Milton, which she holds firmly
+grasped in her right hand. "You have had a tedious time of it, Madam,"
+says a corpulent lady, who is extensively dressed and jewelled, and
+accosts her with a familiar air. Lady Swiggs says not so tedious as it
+might have been, and gives her head two or three very fashionable
+twitches.</p>
+
+<p>"Your name, if you please?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Princess Grouski. My husband, the Prince Grouski," replies the
+corpulent lady, turning and introducing a fair-haired gentleman, tall
+and straight of person, somewhat military in his movements, and
+extremely fond of fingering his long, Saxon moustache. Lady Swiggs, on
+the announcement of a princess, rises suddenly to her feet, and
+commences an unlimited number of courtesies. She is, indeed, most happy
+to meet, and have the honor of being fellow-voyager with their Royal
+Highnesses&mdash;will remember it as being one of the happiest events of her
+life,&mdash;and begs to assure them of her high esteem. The corpulent lady
+gives her a delicate card, on which is described the crown of Poland,
+and beneath, in exact letters, "The Prince and Princess Grouski." The
+Prince affects not to understand English, which Lady Swiggs regrets
+exceedingly, inasmuch as it deprives her of an interesting conversation
+with a person of royal blood. The card she places carefully between the
+leaves of her Milton, having first contemplated it with an air of
+exultation. Again begging to thank the Prince and Princess for this
+mark of their distinguished consideration, Lady Swiggs inquires if they
+ever met or heard of Sir Sunderland Swiggs. The rotund lady, for herself
+and the prince, replies in the negative. "He was," she pursues, with a
+sigh of disappointment, "he was very distinguished, in his day. Yes, and
+I am his lineal descendant. Your highnesses visited Charleston, of
+course?"</p>
+
+<p>"O dear," replies the rotund lady, somewhat laconically, "the happiest
+days of my life were spent among the chivalry of South Carolina. Indeed,
+Madam, I have received the attention and honors of the very first
+families in that State."</p>
+
+<p>This exclamation sets the venerable lady to thinking how it could be
+possible that their highnesses received the attentions of the first
+families and she not know it. No great persons ever visited the United
+States without honoring Charleston with their presence, it was true; but
+how in the world did it happen that she was kept in ignorance of such an
+event as that of the Prince and Princess paying it a visit. She began to
+doubt the friendship of her distinguished acquaintances, and the St.
+Cecilia Society. She hopes that should they condescend to pay the United
+States a second visit, they will remember her address. This the rotund
+lady, who is no less a person than the distinguished Madame Flamingo,
+begs to assure her she will.</p>
+
+<p>Let not this happy union between Grouski and the old hostess, surprise
+you, gentle reader. It was brought about by Mr. Snivel, the
+accommodation man, who, as you have before seen, is always ready to do a
+bit of a good turn. Being a skilful diplomatist in such matters, he
+organized the convention, superintended the wooing, and for a lusty
+share of the spoils, secured to him by Grouski, brought matters to an
+issue "highly acceptable" to all parties. A sale of her palace of
+licentiousness, works of art, costly furniture, and female wares,
+together with the good will of all concerned, (her friends of the "bench
+and bar" not excepted,) was made for the nice little sum of sixty-seven
+thousand dollars, to Madame Grace Ashley, whose inauguration was one of
+the most gorgeous <i>f&ecirc;tes</i> the history of Charleston can boast. The new
+occupant was a novice. She had not sufficient funds to pay ready money
+for the purchase, hence Mr. Doorwood, a chivalric and very excellent
+gentleman, according to report, supplies the necessary, taking a
+mortgage on the institution; which proves to be quite as good property
+as the Bank, of which he is president. It is not, however, just that
+sort of business upon which an already seared conscience can repose in
+quiet, hence he applies that antidote too frequently used by knaves&mdash;he
+never lets a Sunday pass without piously attending church.</p>
+
+<p>The money thus got, through this long life of iniquity, was by Madame
+Flamingo handed over to the Prince, in exchange for his heart and the
+title she had been deluded to believe him capable of conferring. Her
+reverence for Princes and exiled heroes, (who are generally exiled
+humbugs,) was not one jot less than that so pitiably exhibited by our
+self-dubbed fashionable society all over this Union. It may be well to
+add, that this distinguished couple, all smiling and loving, are on
+their way to Europe, where they are sure of receiving the attentions of
+any quantity of "crowned heads." Mr. Snivel, in order not to let the
+affair lack that <i>eclat</i> which is the crowning point in matters of high
+life, got smuggled into the columns of the highly respectable and very
+authentic old "Courier," a line or two, in which the fashionable world
+was thrown into a flutter by the announcement that Prince Grouski and
+his wealthy bride left yesterday, <i>en route</i> for Europe. This bit of
+gossip the "New York Herald" caught up and duly itemised, for the
+benefit of its upper-ten readers, who, as may be easily imagined, were
+all on tip-toe to know the address of visitors so distinguished, and
+leave cards.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Swiggs has (we must return to her mission) scarcely set foot on
+shore, when, thanks to a little-headed corporation, she is fairly set
+upon by a dozen or more villanous hack-drivers, each dangling his whip
+in her face, to the no small danger of her bonnet and spectacles. They
+jostle her, utter vile imprecations, dispute for the right of carrying
+her, each in his turn offering to do it a shilling less. Lady Swiggs is
+indeed an important individual in the hands of the hack-drivers, and by
+them, in a fair way of being torn to pieces. She wonders they do not
+recognize her as a distinguished person, from the chivalric State of
+South Carolina. The captain is engaged with his ship, passengers are
+hurrying ashore, too anxious to escape the confinement of the cabin;
+every one seems in haste to leave her, no one offers to protect her from
+the clutches of those who threaten to tear her into precious pieces. She
+sighs for Sister Slocum, for Mr. Hadger, for any one kind enough to
+raise a friendly voice in her behalf. Now one has got her black box,
+another her corpulent carpet-bag&mdash;a third exults in a victory over her
+band-box. Fain would she give up her mission in disgust, return to the
+more aristocratic atmosphere of Charleston, and leave the heathen to his
+fate. All this might have been avoided had Sister Slocum sent her
+carriage. She will stick by her black-box, nevertheless. So into the
+carriage with it she gets, much discomfited. The driver says he would
+drive to the Mayor's office "and 'ave them ar two coves what's got the
+corpulent carpet-bag and the band-box, seed after, if it wern't that His
+Honor never knows anything he ought to know, and is sure to do nothing.
+They'll turn up, Mam, I don't doubt," says the man, "but it's next to
+los'in' on 'em, to go to the Mayor's office. Our whole corporation, Mam,
+don't do nothin' but eats oysters, drinks whiskey, and makes
+presidents;&mdash;them's what they do, Marm." Lady Swiggs says what a pity so
+great a city was not blessed with a bigger-headed corporation.</p>
+
+<p>"That it is, Marm," returns the methodical hack-driver, "he an't got a
+very big head, our corporation." And Lady Swiggs, deprived of her
+carpet-bag and band-box, and considerably out of patience, is rolled
+away to the mansion of Sister Slocum, on Fourth Avenue. Instead of
+falling immediately into the arms and affections of that worthy and very
+enterprising lady, the door is opened by a slatternly maid of all
+work&mdash;her greasy dress, and hard, ruddy face and hands&mdash;her short,
+flabby figure, and her coarse, uncombed hair, giving out strong evidence
+of being overtaxed with labor. "Is it Mrs. Slocum hersel' ye'd be
+seein'?" inquires the maid, wiping her soapy hands with her apron, and
+looking querulously in the face of the old lady, who, with the air of a
+Scotch metaphysician, says she is come to spend a week in friendly
+communion with her, to talk over the cause of the poor, benighted
+heathen. "Troth an' I'm not as sure ye'll do that same, onyhow; sure
+she'd not spend a week at home in the blessed year; and the divil
+another help in the house but mysel' and himsel', Mr. Slocum. A decent
+man is that same Slocum, too," pursues the maid, with a laconic
+indifference to the wants of the guest. A dusty hat-stand ornaments one
+side of the hall, a patched and somewhat deformed sofa the other. The
+walls wear a dingy air; the fumes of soapsuds and stewed onions offend
+the senses. Mrs. Swiggs hesitates in the doorway. Shall I advance, or
+retreat to more congenial quarters? she asks herself. The wily
+hack-driver (he agreed for four and charged her twelve shillings) leaves
+her black box on the step and drives away. She may be thankful he did
+not charge her twenty. They make no allowance for distinguished people;
+Lady Swiggs learns this fact, to her great annoyance. To the
+much-confused maid of all work she commences relating the loss of her
+luggage. With one hand swinging the door and the other tucked under her
+dowdy apron, she says, "Troth, Mam, and ye ought to be thankful, for the
+like of that's done every day."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Swiggs would like a room for the night at least, but is told, in a
+somewhat confused style, that not a room in the house is in order. That
+a person having the whole heathen world on her shoulders should not have
+her house in order somewhat surprises the indomitable lady. In answer to
+a question as to what time Mr. Slocum will be home, the maid of all work
+says: "Och! God love the poor man, there's no tellin'. Sure there's not
+much left of the poor man. An' the divil a one more inoffensive than
+poor Slocum. It's himsel' works all day in the Shurance office beyant.
+He comes home dragged out, does a dale of writing for Mrs. Slocum
+hersel', and goes to bed sayin' nothin' to nobody." Lady Swiggs says:
+"God bless me He no doubt labors in a good cause&mdash;an excellent
+cause&mdash;he will have his reward hereafter."</p>
+
+<p>It must here be confessed that Sister Slocum, having on hand a
+newly-married couple, nicely suited to the duties of a mission to some
+foreign land, has conceived the very laudable project of sending them to
+Aleppo, and is now spending a few weeks among the Dutch of Albany, who
+are expected to contribute the necessary funds. A few thousand dollars
+expended, a few years' residence in the East, a few reports as to what
+might have been done if something had not interposed to prevent it, and
+there is not a doubt that this happy couple will return home crowned
+with the laurels of having very nearly Christianized one Turk and two
+Tartars.</p>
+
+<p>The maid of all work suddenly remembers that Mrs. Slocum left word that
+if a distinguished lady arrived from South Carolina she could be
+comfortably accommodated at Sister Scudder's, on Fourth Street. Not a
+little disappointed, the venerable old lady calls a passing carriage,
+gets herself and black box into it, and orders the driver to forthwith
+proceed to the house of Sister Scudder. Here she is&mdash;and she sheds tears
+that she is&mdash;cooped up in a cold, closet-like room, on the third story,
+where, with the ends of her red shawl, she may blow and warm her
+fingers. Sister Scudder is a crispy little body, in spectacles. Her
+features are extremely sharp, and her countenance continually wears a
+wise expression. As for her knowledge of scripture, it is truly
+wonderful, and a decided improvement when contrasted with the meagre
+set-out of her table. Tea time having arrived, Lady Swiggs is invited
+down to a cup by a pert Irish servant, who accosts her with an
+independence she by no means approves. Entering the room with an air of
+stateliness she deems necessary to the position she desires to maintain,
+Sister Scudder takes her by the hand and introduces her to a bevy of
+nicely-conditioned, and sleek-looking gentlemen, whose exactly-combed
+mutton chop whiskers, smoothly-oiled hair, perfectly-tied white cravats,
+cloth so modest and fashionable, and mild, studious countenances,
+discover their profession. Sister Scudder, motioning Lady Swiggs aside,
+whispers in her ear: "They are all very excellent young men. They will
+improve on acquaintance. They are come up for the clergy." They, in
+turn, receive the distinguished stranger in a manner that is rather
+abrupt than cold, and ere she has dispensed her stately courtesy, say;
+"how do you do marm," and turn to resume with one another their
+conversation on the wicked world. It is somewhat curious to see how much
+more interested these gentry become in the wicked world when it is afar
+off.</p>
+
+<p>Tea very weak, butter very strong, toast very thin, and religious
+conversation extremely thick, make up the repast. There is no want of
+appetite. Indeed one might, under different circumstances, have imagined
+Sister Scudder's clerical boarders contesting a race for an extra slice
+of her very thin toast. Not the least prominent among Sister Scudder's
+boarders is Brother Singleton Spyke, whom Mrs. Swiggs recognizes by the
+many compliments he lavishes upon Sister Slocum, whose absence is a
+source of great regret with him. She is always elbow deep in some
+laudable pursuit. Her presence sheds a radiant light over everything
+around; everybody mourns her when absent. Nevertheless, there is some
+satisfaction in knowing that her absence is caused by her anxiety to
+promote some mission of good: Brother Spyke thus muses. Seeing that
+there is come among them a distinguished stranger, he gives out that
+to-morrow evening there will be a gathering of the brethren at the
+"House of the Foreign Missions," when the very important subject of
+funds necessary to his mission to Antioch, will be discussed. Brother
+Spyke, having levelled this battery at the susceptibility of Mrs.
+Swiggs, is delighted to find some fourteen voices chiming in&mdash;all
+complimenting his peculiar fitness for, and the worthy object of the
+mission. Mrs. Swiggs sets her cup in her saucer, and in a becoming
+manner, to the great joy of all present, commences an eulogium on Mr.
+Spyke. Sister Slocum, in her letters, held him before her in strong
+colors; spoke in such high praise of his talent, and gave so many
+guarantees as to what he would do if he only got among the heathen, that
+her sympathies were enlisted&mdash;she resolved to lose no time in getting to
+New York, and, when there, put her shoulder right manfully to the wheel.
+This declaration finds her, as if by some mysterious transport, an
+object of no end of praise. Sister Scudder adjusts her spectacles, and,
+in mildest accents, says, "The Lord will indeed reward such
+disinterestedness." Brother Mansfield says motives so pure will ensure a
+passport to heaven, he is sure. Brother Sharp, an exceedingly lean and
+tall youth, with a narrow head and sharp nose (Mr. Sharp's father
+declared he made him a preacher because he could make him nothing else),
+pronounces, with great emphasis, that such self-sacrifice should be
+written in letters of gold. A unanimous sounding of her praises
+convinces Mrs. Swiggs that she is indeed a person of great importance.
+There is, however, a certain roughness of manner about her new friends,
+which does not harmonize with her notions of aristocracy. She questions
+within herself whether they represent the "first families" of New York.
+If the "first families" could only get their heads together, the heathen
+world would be sure to knock under. No doubt, it can be effected in time
+by common people. If Sister Slocum, too, would evangelize the world&mdash;if
+she would give the light of heaven to the benighted, she must employ
+willing hearts and strong hands. Satan, she says, may be chained,
+subdued, and made to abjure his wickedness. These cheering
+contemplations more than atone for the cold reception she met at the
+house of Sister Slocum. Her only regret now is that she did not sell old
+Cicero. The money so got would have enabled her to bestow a more
+substantial token of her soul's sincerity.</p>
+
+<p>Tea over, thanks returned, a prayer offered up, and Brother Spyke,
+having taken a seat on the sofa beside Mrs. Swiggs, opens his batteries
+in a spiritual conversation, which he now and then spices with a few
+items of his own history. At the age of fifteen he found himself in love
+with a beautiful young lady, who, unfortunately, had made up her mind to
+accept only the hand of a clergyman: hence, she rejected his. This so
+disturbed his thoughts, that he resolved on studying theology. In this
+he was aided by the singular discovery, that he had a talent, and a
+"call to preach." He would forget his amour, he thought, become a member
+of the clergy, and go preach to the heathen. He spent his days in
+reading, his nights in the study of divine truths. Then he got on the
+kind side of a committee of very excellent ladies, who, having duly
+considered his qualities, pronounced him exactly suited to the study of
+theology. Ladies were generally good judges of such matters, and Brother
+Spyke felt he could not do better than act up to their opinions. To all
+these things Mrs. Swiggs listens with delight.</p>
+
+<p>Spyke, too, is in every way a well made-up man, being extremely tall and
+lean of figure, with nice Saxon hair and whiskers, mild but thoughtful
+blue eyes, an anxious expression of countenance, a thin, squeaking
+voice, and features sufficiently delicate and regular for his calling.
+His dress, too, is always exactly clerical. If he be cold and pedantic
+in his manner, the fault must be set down to the errors of the
+profession, rather than to any natural inclination of his own. But what
+is singular of Brother Spyke is, that, notwithstanding his passion for
+delving the heathen world, and dragging into Christian light and love
+the benighted wretches there found, he has never in his life given a
+thought for that heathen world at his own door&mdash;a heathen world sinking
+in the blackest pool of misery and death, in the very heart of an
+opulent city, over which it hurls its seething pestilence, and scoffs at
+the commands of high heaven. No, he never thought of that Babylon of
+vice and crime&mdash;that heathen world pleading with open jaws at his own
+door. He had no thought for how much money might be saved, and how much
+more good done, did he but turn his eyes; go into this dark world (the
+Points) pleading at his feet, nerve himself to action, and lend a strong
+hand to help drag off the film of its degradation. In addition to this,
+Brother Spyke was sharp enough to discover the fact that a country
+parson does not enjoy the most enviable situation. A country parson must
+put up with the smallest salary; he must preach the very best of
+sermons; he must flatter and flirt with all the marriageable ladies of
+his church; he must consult the tastes, but offend none of the old
+ladies; he must submit to have the sermon he strained his brain to make
+perfect, torn to pieces by a dozen wise old women, who claim the right
+of carrying the church on their shoulders; he must have dictated to him
+what sort of dame he may take for wife;&mdash;in a word, he must bear meekly
+a deal of pestering and starvation, or be in bad odor with the senior
+members of the sewing circle. Duly appreciating all these difficulties,
+Brother Spyke chose a mission to Antioch, where the field of his labors
+would be wide, and the gates not open to restraints. And though he could
+not define the exact character of his mission to Antioch, he so worked
+upon the sympathies of the credulous old lady, as to well-nigh create in
+her mind a resolve to give the amount she had struggled to get and set
+apart for the benefit of those two institutions ("the Tract Society,"
+and "The Home of the Foreign Missions"), all to the getting himself off
+to Antioch.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXI.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller' >MR. SNIVEL PURSUES HIS SEARCH FOR THE VOTE-CRIBBER.</p>
+
+
+<p>While Mrs. Swiggs is being entertained by Sister Scudder and her
+clerical friends in New York, Mr. Snivel is making good his demand on
+her property in Charleston. As the agent of Keepum, he has attached her
+old slaves, and what few pieces of furniture he could find; they will in
+a few days be sold for the satisfaction of her debts. Mrs. Swiggs, it
+must be said, never had any very nice appreciation of debt-paying,
+holding it much more legitimate that her creditors accept her dignity in
+satisfaction of any demand they chanced to have against her. As for her
+little old house, the last abode of the last of the great Swiggs
+family,&mdash;that, like numerous other houses of our "very first families,"
+is mortgaged for more than it is worth, to Mr. Staple the grocer. We
+must, however, turn to Mr. Snivel.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel is seen, on the night after the secret interview at the
+Charleston Hotel, in a happy mood, passing down King street. A little,
+ill-featured man, with a small, but florid face, a keen, lecherous eye,
+leans on his arm. They are in earnest conversation.</p>
+
+<p>"I think the mystery is nearly cleared up, Keepum" says Snivel.</p>
+
+<p>"There seems no getting a clue to the early history of this Madame
+Montford, 'tis true. Even those who introduced her to Charleston society
+know nothing of her beyond a certain period. All anterior to that is
+wrapped in suspicion," returns Keepum, fingering his massive gold chain
+and seals, that pend from his vest, then releasing his hold of Mr.
+Snivel's arm, and commencing to button closely his blue dress coat,
+which is profusely decorated with large gilt buttons. "She's the mother
+of the dashing harlot, or I'm no prophet, nevertheless," he concludes,
+shaking his head significantly.</p>
+
+<p>"You may almost swear it&mdash;a bad conscience is a horrid bore; d&mdash;n me, if
+I can't see through the thing. (Mr. Snivel laughs.) Better put our
+female friends on their guard, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"They had better drop her as quietly as possible," rejoins Mr. Keepum,
+drawing his white glove from off his right hand, and extending his cigar
+case.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel having helped himself to a cigar, says: "D&mdash;n me, if she
+didn't faint in my arms last night. I made a discovery that brought
+something of deep interest back to her mind, and gave her timbers
+such a shock! I watched, and read the whole story in her emotions.
+One accustomed to the sharps of the legal profession can do this sort
+of thing. She is afraid of approaching this beautiful creature, Anna
+Bonard, seeing the life she lives, and the suspicions it might create
+in fashionable society, did she pursue such a course to the end of
+finding out whether she be really the lost child of the relative she
+refers to so often. Her object is to find one Mag Munday, who used to
+knock about here, and with whom the child was left. But enough of this
+for the present." Thus saying, they enter the house of the old antiquary,
+and finding no one but Maria at home, Mr. Snivel takes the liberty of
+throwing his arms about her waist. This done, he attempts to drag her
+across the room and upon the sofa. "Neither your father nor you ever
+had a better friend," he says, as the girl struggles from his grasp,
+shrinks at his feet, and, with a look of disdain, upbraids him for
+his attempt to take advantage of a lone female.</p>
+
+<p>"High, ho!" interposes Keepum, "what airs these sort of people put on,
+eh? Don't amount to much, no how; they soon get over them, you know. A
+blasted deal of assumption, as you say. Ha, ha, ha! I rather like this
+sort of modesty. 'Tisn't every one can put it cleverly." Mr. Snivel
+winks to Keepum, who makes an ineffectual attempt to extinguish the
+light, which Maria seizes in her hand, and summoning her courage, stands
+before them in a defiant attitude, an expression of hate and scorn on
+her countenance. "Ah, fiend! you take this liberty&mdash;you seek to destroy
+me because I am poor&mdash;because you think me humble&mdash;an easy object to
+prey upon. I am neither a stranger to the world nor your cowardly
+designs; and so long as I have life you shall not gloat over the
+destruction of my virtue. Approach me at your peril&mdash;knaves! You have
+compromised my father; you have got him in your grasp, that you may the
+more easily destroy me. But you will be disappointed, your perfidy will
+recoil on yourselves: though stripped of all else, I will die protecting
+that virtue you would not dare to offend but for my poverty." This
+unexpected display of resolution has the effect of making the position
+of the intruders somewhat uncomfortable. Mr. Keepum, whose designs
+Snivel would put in execution, sinks, cowardly, upon the sofa, while his
+compatriot (both are celebrated for their chivalry) stands off apace
+endeavoring to palliate the insult with facetious remarks. (This
+chivalry of ours is a mockery, a convenient word in the foul mouths of
+fouler ruffians.) Mr. Snivel makes a second attempt to overcome the
+unprotected girl. With every expression of hate and scorn rising to her
+face, she bids him defiance. Seeing himself thus firmly repulsed, he
+begs to assure her, on the word of a gentleman&mdash;a commodity always on
+hand, and exceedingly cheap with us&mdash;he was far from intending an
+insult. He meant it for a bit of a good turn&mdash;nothing more. "Always
+fractious at first&mdash;these sort of people are," pursues Keepum,
+relighting his cigar as he sits on the sofa, squinting his right eye.
+"Take bravely to gentlemen after a little display of modesty&mdash;always!
+Try her again, Squire." Mr. Snivel dashes the candle from her hand, and
+in the darkness grasps her wrists. The enraged girl shrieks, and calls
+aloud for assistance. Simultaneously a blow fells Mr. Snivel to the
+floor. The voice of Tom Swiggs is heard, crying: "Wretch! villain!&mdash;what
+brings you here? (Mr. Keepum, like the coward, who fears the vengeance
+he has merited, makes good his escape.) Will you never cease polluting
+the habitations of the poor? Would to God there was justice for the
+poor, as well as law for the rich; then I would make thee bite the dust,
+like a dying viper. You should no longer banquet on poor virtue.
+Wretch!&mdash;I would teach thee that virtue has its value with the poor as
+well as the rich;&mdash;that with the true gentleman it is equally sacred."
+Tom stands a few moments over the trembling miscreant, Maria sinks into
+a chair, and with her elbows resting on the table, buries her face in
+her hands and gives vent to her tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Never did criminal so merit punishment; but I will prove thee not worth
+my hand. Go, wretch, go! and know that he who proves himself worthy of
+entering the habitations of the humble is more to be prized than kings
+and princes." Tom relights the candle in time to see Mr. Snivel rushing
+into the street.</p>
+
+<p>The moon sheds a pale light over the city as the two chivalric
+gentlemen, having rejoined and sworn to have revenge, are seen entering
+a little gate that opens to a dilapidated old building, fronted by a
+neglected garden, situate on the north side of Queen street, and in days
+gone by called "Rogues' Retreat." "Rogues' Retreat" has scared vines
+creeping over its black, clap-boarded front, which viewed from the
+street appears in a squatting mood, while its broken door, closed
+shutters&mdash;the neglected branches of grape vines that depend upon decayed
+trellise and arbors, invest it with a forlorn air: indeed, one might
+without prejudicing his faculties imagine it a fit receptacle for our
+deceased politicians and our whiskey-drinking congressmen&mdash;the last
+resting-place of our departed chivalry. Nevertheless, generous reader,
+we will show you that "Rogues' Retreat" serves a very different purpose.
+Our mob-politicians, who make their lungs and fists supply the want of
+brains, use it as their favorite haunt, and may be seen on the eve of an
+election passing in and out of a door in the rear. Hogsheads of bad
+whiskey have been drunk in "Rogues' Retreat;" it reeks with the fumes of
+uncounted cigars; it has been the scene of untold villanies. Follow us;
+we will forego politeness, and peep in through a little,
+suspicious-looking window, in the rear of the building. This window
+looks into a cavern-like room, some sixteen feet by thirty, the ceiling
+of which is low, and blotched here and there with lamp-smoke and
+water-stains, the plastering hanging in festoons from the walls, and
+lighted by the faint blaze of a small globular lamp, depending from the
+centre, and shedding a lurid glare over fourteen grotesque faces, formed
+round a broad deal-table. Here, at one side of the table sits Judge
+Sleepyhorn, Milman Mingle, the vote-cribber, on his right; there, on the
+other, sits Mr. Snivel and Mr. Keepum. More conspicuous than anything
+else, stands, in the centre of the table, bottles and decanters of
+whiskey, of which each man is armed with a stout glass. "I am as well
+aware of the law as my friend who has just taken his seat can be. But we
+all know that the law can be made subordinate; and it must be made
+subordinate to party ends. We must not (understand me, I do not say this
+in my judicial capacity) be too scrupulous when momentous issues are
+upon us. The man who has not nerve enough to make citizens by the
+dozen&mdash;to stuff double-drawered ballot-boxes, is not equal to the times
+we live in;&mdash;this is a great moral fact." This is said by the Judge,
+who, having risen with an easy air, sits down and resumes his glass and
+cigar.</p>
+
+<p>"Them's my sentiments&mdash;exactly," interposes the vote-cribber, his burly,
+scarred face, and crispy red hair and beard, forming a striking picture
+in the pale light. "I have given up the trade of making Presidents, what
+I used to foller when, you see, I lived in North Caroliner; but, I tell
+you on the faith of my experience, that to carry the day we must let the
+law slide, and crib with a free chain: there's no gettin' over this."</p>
+
+<p>"It is due," interrupts the Judge, again rising to his feet and bowing
+to the cribber, "to this worthy man, whose patriotism has been tried so
+often within prison-walls, that we give weight to his advice. He bears
+the brunt of the battle like a hero&mdash;he is a hero!" (The vote-cribber
+acknowledges the compliment by filling his glass and drinking to the
+Judge.)</p>
+
+<p>"Of this worthy gentleman I have, as a member of the learned profession,
+an exalted opinion. His services are as necessary to our success as
+steam to the speed of a locomotive. I am in favor of leaving the law
+entirely out of the question. What society sanctions as a means to party
+ends, the law in most cases fails to reach," rejoins a tall,
+sandy-complexioned man, of the name of Booper, very distinguished among
+lawyers and ladies. Never was truth spoken with stronger testimony at
+hand. Mr. Keepum could boast of killing two poor men; Mr. Snivel could
+testify to the fallacy of the law by gaining him an honorable acquittal.
+There were numerous indictments against Mr. Keepum for his dealings in
+lottery tickets, but they found their way into the Attorney-General's
+pocket, and it was whispered he meant to keep them there. It was indeed
+pretty well known he could not get them out in consequence of the gold
+Keepum poured in. Not a week passes but men kill each other in the open
+streets. We call these little affairs, "rencontres;" the fact is, we are
+become so accustomed to them that we rather like them, and regard them
+as evidences of our advanced civilization. We are infested with
+slave-hunters, and slave-killers, who daily disgrace us with their
+barbarities; yet the law is weak when the victor is strong. So we
+continue to live in the harmless belief that we are the most chivalrous
+people in the world.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Booper!" ejaculates Mr. Snivel, knocking the ashes from his cigar
+and rising to his feet, "you have paid no more than a merited
+compliment to the masterly completeness of this excellent man's
+cribbing. (He points to the cribber, and bows.) Now, permit me to say
+here, I have at my disposal a set of fellows, (he smiles,) who can fight
+their way into Congress, duplicate any system of sharps, and stand in
+fear of nothing. Oh! gentlemen, (Mr. Snivel becomes enthusiastic.) I
+was&mdash;as I have said, I believe&mdash;enjoying a bottle of champagne with my
+friend Keepum here, when we overheard two Dutchmen&mdash;the Dutch always go
+with the wrong party&mdash;discoursing about a villanous caucus held to-night
+in King street. There is villany up with these Dutch! But, you see,
+we&mdash;that is, I mean I&mdash;made some forty or more citizens last year. We
+have the patent process; we can make as many this year."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sharp, an exceedingly clever politician, who has meekly born any
+number of cudgellings at the polls, and hopes ere long to get the
+appointment of Minister to Paris, interrupts by begging that Mr. Soloman
+will fill his glass, and resume his seat. Mr. Snivel having taking his
+seat, Mr. Sharp proceeds: "I tell you all what it is, says I, the other
+day to a friend&mdash;these ponderous Dutch ain't to be depended on. Then,
+says I, you must separate the Irish into three classes, and to each
+class you must hold out a different inducement, says I. There's the Rev.
+Father Flaherty, says I, and he is a trump card at electioneering. He
+can form a breach between his people and the Dutch, and, says I, by the
+means of this breach we will gain the whole tribe of Emeralds over to
+our party. I confess I hate these vagabonds right soundly; but necessity
+demands that we butter and sugar the mover until we carry our ends. You
+must not look at the means, says I, when the ends are momentous."</p>
+
+<p>"The staunch Irish," pursues the Judge, rising as Mr. Sharp sits down,
+"are noble fellows, and with us. To the middle class&mdash;the grocers and
+shopkeepers&mdash;we must, however, hold out flattering inducements; such as
+the reduction of taxes, the repeal of our oppressive license laws,
+taking the power out of the hands of our aristocracy&mdash;they are very
+tender here&mdash;and giving equal rights to emigrants. These points we must
+put as Paul did his sermons&mdash;with force and ingenuity. As for the low
+Irish, all we have to do is to crib them, feed and pickle them in
+whiskey for a week. To gain an Irishman's generosity, you cannot use a
+better instrument than meat, drink, and blarney. I often contemplate
+these fellows when I am passing sentence upon them for crime."</p>
+
+<p>"True! I have the same dislike to them personally; but politically, the
+matter assumes quite a different form of attraction. The laboring
+Irish&mdash;the dull-headed&mdash;are what we have to do with. We must work them
+over, and over, and over, until we get them just right. Then we must
+turn them all into legal voting citizens&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That depends on how long they have been in the country," interrupts a
+brisk little man, rising quickly to his feet, and assuming a legal air.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Sprig! you are entirely behind the age. It matters not how long
+these gentlemen from Ireland have been in the country. They take to
+politics like rats to good cheese. A few months' residence, and a little
+working over, you know, and they become trump voters. The Dutch are a
+different sort of animal; the fellows are thinkers," resumes the Judge.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel, who has been sipping his whiskey, and listening very
+attentively to the Judge, rises to what he calls the most important
+order. He has got the paper all ready, and proposes the gentlemen he
+thinks best qualified for the naturalization committee. This done, Mr.
+Snivel draws from his pocket a copy of the forged papers, which are
+examined, and approved by every one present. This instrument is
+surmounted with the eagle and arms of the United States, and reads thus:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p class='center'>"<i>STATE OF NEW YORK</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"In the Court of Common Pleas for the city and county of New York:</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;&mdash; do declare on oath, that it is <i>bon&acirc; fide</i> my intention to
+become a citizen of the United States, and to renounce forever all
+allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, State or
+sovereignty whatever, and particularly to the Queen of the United
+Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, of whom I am a subject."</p>
+
+<p>
+Signed this&mdash;&mdash; day of&mdash;&mdash; 184-.
+</p>
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;"><span class="smcap">James Connor</span>, Clerk.
+</p>
+
+<p>"Clerk's office, Court of Common Pleas for the city and county of
+New York."</p>
+
+<p>"I hereby certify that the foregoing is a true copy of an original
+declaration of intention remaining on record in my office, &amp;c.,
+&amp;c., &amp;c."</p></div>
+
+<p>"There! it required skill and practice to imitate like that" Mr. Snivel
+exultingly exclaims. "We require to make thirty-seven citizens, and have
+prepared the exact number of papers. If the cribbers do their duty, the
+day is ours." Thus is revealed one of the scenes common to "Rogues'
+Retreat." We shrink at the multiplicity of crime in our midst; we too
+seldom trace the source from whence it flows. If we did but turn our
+eyes in the right direction we would find the very men we have elected
+our guardians, protecting the vicious, whose power they
+covet&mdash;sacrificing their high trust to a low political ambition. You
+cannot serve a political end by committing a wrong without inflicting a
+moral degradation on some one. Political intrigue begets laxity of
+habits; it dispels that integrity without which the unfixed mind becomes
+vicious; it acts as a festering sore in the body politic.</p>
+
+<p>Having concluded their arrangements for the Mayor's election, the party
+drinks itself into a noisy mood, each outshouting the other for the
+right to speak, each refilling and emptying his glass, each asserting
+with vile imprecations, his dignity as a gentleman. Midnight finds the
+reeling party adjourning in the midst of confusion.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel winks the vote-cribber into a corner, and commences
+interrogating him concerning Mag Munday. The implacable face of the
+vote-cribber reddens, he contorts his brows, frets his jagged beard with
+the fingers of his left hand, runs his right over the crown of his head,
+and stammers: "I know'd her, lived with her&mdash;she used to run sort of
+wild, and was twice flogged. She got crazed at last!" He shrugs his
+stalworth shoulders and pauses. "Being a politician, you see, a body
+can't divest their minds of State affairs sufficiently to keep up on
+women matters," he pursues: "She got into the poor-house, that I
+knows&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"She is dead then?" interposes Mr. Snivel.</p>
+
+<p>"As like as not. The poor relatives of our 'first families' rot and die
+there without much being said about it. Just look in at that
+institution&mdash;it's a terrible place to kill folks off!&mdash;and if she be not
+there then come to me. Don't let the keepers put you off. Pass through
+the outer gate, into and through the main building, then turn sharp to
+the left, and advance some twenty feet up a filthy passage, then enter a
+passage on the right, (have a light with you,) that leads to a dozen or
+fourteen steps, wet and slippery. Then you must descend into a sort of
+grotto, or sickly vault, which you will cross and find yourself in a
+spacious passage, crawling with beetles and lizards. Don't be
+frightened, sir; keep on till you hear moanings and clankings of chains.
+Then you will come upon a row of horrid cells, only suited for dog
+kennels. In these cells our crazy folks are chained and left to die.
+Give Glentworthy a few shillings for liquor, sir, and he, having these
+poor devils in charge, will put you through. It's a terrible place, sir,
+but our authorities never look into it, and few of our people know of
+its existence."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel thanks the vote-cribber, who pledges his honor he would
+accompany him, but for the reason that he opens crib to-morrow, and has
+in his eye a dozen voters he intends to look up. He has also a few
+recently-arrived sons of the Emerald Isle he purposes turning into
+citizens.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXII</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>MRS. SWIGGS FALLS UPON A MODERN HEATHEN WORLD.</p>
+
+
+<p>Purged of all the ill-humors of her mind, Mrs. Swiggs finds herself, on
+the morning following the excellent little gathering at Sister
+Scudder's, restored to the happiest of tempers. The flattery
+administered by Brother Spyke, and so charmingly sprinkled with his
+pious designs on the heathen world, has had the desired effect. This
+sort of drug has, indeed, a wonderful efficacy in setting disordered
+constitutions to rights. It would not become us to question the
+innocence, or the right to indulge in such correctives; it is enough
+that our venerable friend finds herself in a happy vein, and is resolved
+to spend the day for the benefit of that heathen world, the darkness of
+which Brother Spyke pictured in colors so terrible.</p>
+
+<p>Breakfast is scarcely over when Sister Slocum, in great agitation, comes
+bustling into the parlor, offers the most acceptable apologies for her
+absence, and pours forth such a vast profusion of solicitude for Mrs.
+Swiggs' welfare, that that lady is scarce able to withstand the
+kindness. She recounts the numerous duties that absorb her attention,
+the missions she has on hand, the means she uses to keep up an interest
+in them, the amount of funds necessary to their maintenance. A large
+portion of these funds she raises with her own energy. She will drag up
+the heathen world; she will drag down Satan. Furnishing Mrs. Swiggs
+with the address of the House of the Foreign Missions, in Centre street,
+she excuses herself. How superlatively happy she would be to accompany
+Mrs. Swiggs. A report to present to the committee on finance, she
+regrets, will prevent this. However, she will join her precisely at
+twelve o'clock, at the House. She must receive the congratulations of
+the Board. She must have a reception that will show how much the North
+respects her co-laborers of the South. And with this, Sister Slocum
+takes leave of her guest, assuring her that all she has to do is to get
+into the cars in the Bowery. They will set her down at the door.</p>
+
+<p>Ten o'clock finds our indomitable lady, having preferred the less
+expensive mode of walking, entering a strange world. Sauntering along
+the Bowery she turns down Bayard street. Bayard street she finds lined
+with filthy looking houses, swarming with sickly, ragged, and besotted
+poor; the street is knee-deep with corrupting mire; carts are tilted
+here and there at intervals; the very air seems hurling its pestilence
+into your blood. Ghastly-eyed and squalid children, like ants in quest
+of food, creep and swarm over the pavement, begging for bread or
+uttering profane oaths at one another. Mothers who never heard the Word
+of God, nor can be expected to teach it to their children, protrude
+their vicious faces from out reeking gin shops, and with bare breasts
+and uncombed hair, sweep wildly along the muddy pavement, disappear into
+some cavern-like cellar, and seek on some filthy straw a resting place
+for their wasting bodies. A whiskey-drinking Corporation might feast its
+peculative eyes upon hogs wallowing in mud; and cellars where swarming
+beggars, for six cents a night, cover with rags their hideous
+heads&mdash;where vice and crime are fostered, and into which your sensitive
+policeman prefers not to go, are giving out their seething miasma. The
+very neighborhood seems vegetating in mire. In the streets, in the
+cellars, in the filthy lanes, in the dwellings of the honest poor, as
+well as the vicious, muck and mire is the predominating order. The
+besotted remnants of depraved men, covered with rags and bedaubed with
+mire, sit, half sleeping in disease and hunger on decayed door-stoops.
+Men with bruised faces, men with bleared eyes, men in whose every
+feature crime and dissipation is stamped, now drag their waning bodies
+from out filthy alleys, as if to gasp some breath of air, then drag
+themselves back, as if to die in a desolate hiding-place. Engines of
+pestilence and death the corporation might see and remove, if it would,
+are left here to fester&mdash;to serve a church-yard as gluttonous as its own
+belly. The corporation keeps its eyes in its belly, its little sense in
+its big boots, and its dull action in the whiskey-jug. Like Mrs. Swiggs,
+it cannot afford to do anything for this heathen world in the heart of
+home. No, sir! The corporation has the most delicate sense of its
+duties. It is well paid to nurture the nucleus of a pestilence that may
+some day break out and sweep over the city like an avenging enemy. It
+thanks kind Providence, eating oysters and making Presidents the while,
+for averting the dire scourge it encourages with its apathy. Like our
+humane and very fashionable preachers, it contents itself with looking
+into the Points from Broadway. What more would you ask of it?</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Swiggs is seized with fear and trembling. Surely she is in a world
+of darkness. Can it be that so graphically described by Brother
+Syngleton Spyke? she questions within herself. It might, indeed, put
+Antioch to shame: but the benighted denizens with which it swarms speak
+her own tongue. "It is a deal worse in Orange street,<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Marm&mdash;a deal, I
+assure you!" speaks a low, muttering voice. Lady Swiggs is startled. She
+only paused a moment to view this sea of vice and wretchedness she finds
+herself surrounded with. Turning quickly round she sees before her a
+man, or what there is left of a man. His tattered garments, his lean,
+shrunken figure, his glassy eyes, and pale, haggard face, cause her to
+shrink back in fright. He bows, touches his shattered hat, and says, "Be
+not afraid good Madam. May I ask if you have not mistaken your way?"
+Mrs. Swiggs looks querulously through her spectacles and says, "Do tell
+me where I am?" "In the Points, good Madam. You seem confused, and I
+don't wonder. It's a dreadful place. I know it, madam, to my sorrow."
+There is a certain politeness in the manner of this man&mdash;an absence of
+rudeness she is surprised to find in one so dejected. The red, distended
+nose, the wild expression of his countenance, his jagged hair, hanging
+in tufts over his ragged coat collar, give him a repulsiveness not
+easily described. In answer to an inquiry he says, "They call me, Madam,
+and I'm contented with the name,&mdash;they call me Tom Toddleworth, the
+Chronicle. I am well down&mdash;not in years, but sorrow. Being sick of the
+world I came here, have lived, or rather drifted about, in this sea of
+hopeless misery, homeless and at times foodless, for ten years or more.
+Oh! I have seen better days, Madam. You are a stranger here. May God
+always keep you a stranger to the sufferings of those who dwell with us.
+I never expect to be anything again, owe nothing to the world, and
+never go into Broadway."</p>
+
+<p>"Never go into Broadway," repeats Mrs. Swiggs, her fingers wandering to
+her spectacles. Turning into Orange street, Mr. Toddleworth tenders his
+services in piloting Mrs. Swiggs into Centre street, which, as he adds,
+will place her beyond harm. As they advance the scene becomes darker and
+darker. Orange street seems that centre from which radiates the avenues
+of every vice known to a great city. One might fancy the world's
+outcasts hurled by some mysterious hand into this pool of crime and
+misery, and left to feast their wanton appetites and die. "And you have
+no home, my man?" says Mrs. Swiggs, mechanically. "As to that, Madam,"
+returns the man, with a bow, "I can't exactly say I have no home. I kind
+of preside over and am looked up to by these people. One says, 'come
+spend a night with me, Mr. Toddleworth,' another says, 'come spend a
+night with me, Mr. Tom Toddleworth.' I am a sort of respectable man with
+them, have a place to lay down free, in any of their houses. They all
+esteem me, and say, come spend a night with me, Mr. Toddleworth. It's
+very kind of them. And whenever they get a drop of gin I'm sure of a
+taste. Surmising what I was once, they look up to me, you see. This
+gives me heart." And as he says this he smiles, and draws about him the
+ragged remnants of his coat, as if touched by shame. Arrived at the
+corner of Orange street, Mr. Toddleworth pauses and begs his charge to
+survey the prospect. Look whither she will nothing but a scene of
+desolation&mdash;a Babylon of hideous, wasting forms, mucky streets, and
+reeking dens, meet her eye. The Jews have arranged themselves on one
+side of Orange street, to speculate on the wasted harlotry of the
+other. "Look you, Madam!" says Mr. Toddleworth, leaning on his stick and
+pointing towards Chatham street. "A desert, truly," replies the august
+old lady, nervously twitching her head. She sees to the right ("it is
+wantonness warring upon misery," says Mr. Toddleworth) a long line of
+irregular, wooden buildings, black and besmeared with mud. Little houses
+with decrepit doorsteps; little houses with decayed platforms in front;
+little dens that seem crammed with rubbish; little houses with
+black-eyed, curly-haired, and crooked-nosed children looking shyly about
+the doors; little houses with lusty and lecherous-eyed Jewesses sitting
+saucily in the open door; little houses with open doors, broken windows,
+and shattered shutters, where the devil's elixir is being served to
+ragged and besotted denizens; little houses into which women with
+blotched faces slip suspiciously, deposit their almost worthless rags,
+and pass out to seek the gin-shop; little houses with eagle-faced men
+peering curiously out at broken windows, or beckoning some wayfarer to
+enter and buy from their door; little houses piled inside with the
+cast-off garments of the poor and dissolute, and hung outside with
+smashed bonnets, old gowns, tattered shawls; flaunting&mdash;red, blue, and
+yellow, in the wind, emblematic of those poor wretches, on the opposite
+side, who have pledged here their last offerings, and blazed down into
+that stage of human degradation, which finds the next step the
+grave&mdash;all range along, forming a picturesque but sad panorama. Mr.
+Moses, the man of the eagle face, who keeps the record of death, as the
+neighbors call it, sits opulently in his door, and smokes his cigar;
+while his sharp-eyed daughters estimate exactly how much it is safe to
+advance on the last rag some lean wretch would pledge. He will tell you
+just how long that brawny harlot, passing on the opposite side, will
+last, and what the few rags on her back will be worth when she is
+"shoved into Potters' Field." At the sign of the "Three Martyrs" Mr.
+Levy is seen, in his fashionable coat, and a massive chain falling over
+his tight waistcoat, registering the names of his grotesque customers,
+ticketing their little packages, and advancing each a shilling or two,
+which they will soon spend at the opposite druggery. Thus bravely wages
+the war. London has nothing so besotted, Paris nothing so vicious,
+Naples nothing so dark and despairing, as this heathen world we pass by
+so heedlessly. Beside it even the purlieus of Rome sink into
+insignificance. Now run your eye along the East side of Orange street. A
+sidewalk sinking in mire; a long line of one-story wooden shanties,
+ready to cave-in with decay; dismal looking groceries, in which the god,
+gin, is sending his victims by hundreds to the greedy graveyard;
+suspicious looking dens with dingy fronts, open doors, and windows
+stuffed with filthy rags&mdash;in which crimes are nightly perpetrated, and
+where broken-hearted victims of seduction and neglect, seeking here a
+last refuge, are held in a slavery delicacy forbids our describing; dens
+where negro dancers nightly revel, and make the very air re-echo their
+profaning voices; filthy lanes leading to haunts up alleys and in narrow
+passages, where thieves and burglars hide their vicious heads;
+mysterious looking steps leading to cavern-like cellars, where swarm and
+lay prostrate wretched beings made drunk by the "devil's elixir"&mdash;all
+these beset the East side of Orange street. Wasted nature, blanched and
+despairing, ferments here into one terrible pool. Women in
+gaudy-colored dresses, their bared breasts and brawny arms contrasting
+curiously with their wicked faces, hang lasciviously over "half-doors,"
+taunt the dreamy policeman on his round, and beckon the unwary stranger
+into their dens. Piles of filth one might imagine had been thrown up by
+the devil or the street commissioner, and in which you might bury a
+dozen fat aldermen without missing one; little shops where unwholesome
+food is sold; corner shops where idlers of every color, and sharpers of
+all grades, sit dreaming out the day over their gin&mdash;are here to be
+found. Young Ireland would, indeed, seem to have made this the citadel
+from which to vomit his vice over the city.</p>
+
+<p>"They're perfectly wild, Madam&mdash;these children are," says Mr.
+Toddleworth, in reply to a question Mrs. Swiggs put respecting the
+immense number of ragged and profaning urchins that swarm the streets.
+"They never heard of the Bible, nor God, nor that sort of thing. How
+could they hear of it? No one ever comes in here&mdash;that is, they come in
+now and then, and throw a bit of a tract in here and there, and are glad
+to get out with a whole coat. The tracts are all Greek to the dwellers
+here. Besides that, you see, something must be done for the belly,
+before you can patch up the head. I say this with a fruitful experience.
+A good, kind little man, who seems earnest in the welfare of these wild
+little children that you see running about here&mdash;not the half of them
+know their parents&mdash;looks in now and then, acts as if he wasn't afraid
+of us, (that is a good deal, Madam) and the boys are beginning to take
+to him. But, with nothing but his kind heart and earnest resolution,
+he'll find a rugged mountain to move. If he move it, he will deserve a
+monument of fairest marble erected to his memory, and letters of gold
+to emblazon his deeds thereon. He seems to understand the key to some of
+their affections. It's no use mending the sails without making safe the
+hull."</p>
+
+<p>At this moment Mrs. Swiggs' attention is attracted by a crowd of ragged
+urchins and grotesque-looking men, gathered about a heap of filth at
+that corner of Orange street that opens into the Points.</p>
+
+<p>"They are disinterring his Honor, the Mayor," says Mr. Toddleworth. "Do
+this sort of thing every day, Madam; they mean no harm, you see."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Swiggs, curious to witness the process of disinterring so
+distinguished a person, forgets entirely her appointment at the House of
+the Foreign Missions, crowds her way into the filthy throng, and watches
+with intense anxiety a vacant-looking idiot, who has seen some sixteen
+summers, lean and half clad, and who has dug with his staff a hole deep
+in the mud, which he is busy piling up at the edges.</p>
+
+<p>"Deeper, deeper!" cries out a dozen voices, of as many mischievous
+urchins, who are gathered round in a ring, making him the victim of
+their sport. Having cast his glassy eyes upward, and scanned vacantly
+his audience, he sets to work again, and continues throwing out dead
+cats by the dozen, all of which he exults over, and pauses now and then
+for the approbation of the bystanders, who declare they bear no
+resemblance to his Honor, or any one of the Board of Aldermen. One
+chubby urchin, with a bundle of <i>Tribunes</i> under his arm, looks
+mischievously into the pit, and says, "His 'Onor 'ill want the
+<i>Tribune</i>." Another, of a more taciturn disposition, shrugs his
+shoulders, gives his cap a pull over his eyes, and says, spicing his
+declaration with an oath, "He'll buy two <i>Heralds</i>!&mdash;he will." The
+taciturn urchin draws them from his bundle with an air of independence,
+flaunts them in the face of his rival, and exults over their merits. A
+splashing of mud, followed by a deafening shout, announces that the
+persevering idiot has come upon the object he seeks. One proclaims to
+his motley neighbors that the whole corporation is come to light;
+another swears it is only his Honor and a dead Alderman. A third, more
+astute than the rest, says it is only the head and body of the
+Corporation&mdash;a dead pig and a decaying pumpkin! Shout after shout goes
+up as the idiot, exultingly, drags out the prostrate pig, following it
+with the pumpkin. Mr. Toddleworth beckons Lady Swiggs away. The
+wicked-faced harlots are gathering about her in scores. One has just
+been seen fingering her dress, and hurrying away, disappearing
+suspiciously into an Alley.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, Madam," says Mr. Toddleworth, as they gain the vicinity of Cow
+Bay, "it is currently reported, and believed by the dwellers here, that
+our Corporation ate itself out of the world not long since; and seeing
+how much they suffer by the loss of such&mdash;to have a dead Corporation in
+a great city, is an evil, I assure you&mdash;an institution, they adopt this
+method of finding it. It affords them no little amusement. These
+swarming urchins will have the filthy things laid out in state, holding
+with due ceremony an inquest over them, and mischievously proposing to
+the first policeman who chances along, that he officiate as coroner.
+Lady Swiggs has not a doubt that light might be valuably reflected over
+this heathen world. Like many other very excellent ladies, however, she
+has no candles for a heathen world outside of Antioch."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Toddleworth escorts her safely into Centre street, and directs her
+to the House of the Foreign Missions.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you! thank you!&mdash;may God never let you want a shilling," he says,
+bowing and touching his hat as Mrs. Swiggs puts four shillings into his
+left hand.</p>
+
+<p>"One shilling, Madam," he pursues, with a smile, "will get me a new
+collar. A clean collar now and then, it must be said, gives a body a
+look of respectability."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Toddleworth has a passion for new collars, regards them as a means
+of sustaining his respectability. Indeed, he considers himself in full
+dress with one mounted, no matter how ragged the rest of his wardrobe.
+And when he walks out of a morning, thus conditioned, his friends greet
+him with: "Hi! ho! Mister Toddleworth is uppish this morning." He has
+bid his charge good morning, and hurries back to his wonted haunts.
+There is a mysterious and melancholy interest in this man's history,
+which many have attempted but failed to fathom. He was once heard to say
+his name was not Toddleworth&mdash;that he had sunk his right name in his
+sorrows. He was sentimental at times, always used good language, and
+spoke like one who had seen better days and enjoyed a superior
+education. He wanted, he would say, when in one of his melancholy moods,
+to forget the world, and have the world forget him. Thus he shut himself
+up in the Points, and only once or twice had he been seen in the Bowery,
+and never in Broadway during his sojourn among the denizens who swarm
+that vortex of death. How he managed to obtain funds, for he was never
+without a shilling, was equally involved in mystery. He had no very bad
+habits, seemed inoffensive to all he approached, spoke familiarly on
+past events, and national affairs, and discovered a general knowledge of
+the history of the world. And while he was always ready to share his
+shilling with his more destitute associates, he ever maintained a degree
+of politeness and civility toward those he was cast among not common to
+the place. He was ready to serve every one, would seek out the sick and
+watch over them with a kindness almost paternal, discovering a singular
+familiarity with the duties of a physician. He had, however, an
+inveterate hatred of fashionable wives; and whenever the subject was
+brought up, which it frequently was by the denizens of the Points, he
+would walk away, with a sigh. "Fashionable wives," he would mutter, his
+eyes filling with tears, "are never constant. Ah! they have deluged the
+world with sorrow, and sent me here to seek a hiding place."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXIII.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>IN WHICH THE VERY BEST INTENTIONS ARE SEEN TO FAIL.</p>
+
+
+<p>The city clock strikes one as Mrs. Swiggs, nervous and weary, enters the
+House of the Foreign Missions. Into a comfortably-furnished room on the
+right, she is ushered by a man meekly dressed, and whose countenance
+wears an expression of melancholy. Maps and drawings of Palestine,
+Hindostan, and sundry other fields of missionary labor, hang here and
+there upon the walls. These are alternated with nicely-framed engravings
+and lithographs of Mission establishments in the East, all located in
+some pretty grove, and invested with a warmth and cheerfulness that
+cannot fail to make a few years' residence in them rather desirable than
+otherwise. These in turn are relieved with portraits of distinguished
+missionaries. Earnest-faced busts, in plaster, stand prominently about
+the room, periodicals and papers are piled on little shelves, and bright
+bookcases are filled with reports and various documents concerning the
+society, all bound so exactly. The good-natured man of the kind face
+sits in refreshing ease behind a little desk; the wise-looking lean man,
+in the spectacles, is just in front of him, buried in ponderous folios
+of reports. In the centre of the room stands a highly-polished mahogany
+table, at which Brother Spyke is seated, his elbow rested, and his head
+leaning thoughtfully in his hand. The rotund figure and energetic face
+of Sister Slocum is seen, whisking about conspicuously among a bevy of
+sleek but rather lean gentlemen, studious of countenance, and in modest
+cloth. For each she has something cheerful to impart; each in his turn
+has some compliment to bestow upon her. Several nicely-dressed, but
+rather meek-looking ladies, two or three accompanied by their knitting
+work, have arranged themselves on a settee in front of the wise man in
+the spectacles.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely has the representative of our chivalry entered the room when
+Sister Slocum, with all the ardor of a lover of seventeen, runs to her
+with open arms, embraces her, and kisses her with an affection truly
+grateful. Choking to relate her curious adventure, she is suddenly
+heaped with adulations, told how the time of her coming was looked to,
+as an event of no common occurrence&mdash;how Brothers Sharp, Spyke, and
+Phills, expressed apprehensions for her safety this morning, each in
+turn offering in the kindest manner to get a carriage and go in pursuit.
+The good-natured fat man gets down from his high seat, and receives her
+with pious congratulations; the man in the spectacles looks askant, and
+advances with extended hand. To use a convenient phrase, she is received
+with open arms; and so meek and good is the aspect, that she finds her
+thoughts transported to an higher, a region where only is bliss.
+Provided with a seat in a conspicuous place, she is told to consider
+herself the guest of the society. Sundry ovations, Sister Slocum gives
+her to understand, will be made in her honor, ere long. The fact must
+here be disclosed that Sister Slocum had prepared the minds of those
+present for the reception of an embodiment of perfect generosity.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner has Lady Swiggs time to breathe freely, than she changes the
+wondrous kind aspect of the assembly, and sends it into a paroxysm of
+fright, by relating her curious adventure among the denizens of the
+Points. Brother Spyke nearly makes up his mind to faint; the
+good-natured fat man turns pale; the wise man in the spectacles is seen
+to tremble; the neatly-attired females, so pious-demeanored, express
+their horror of such a place; and Sister Slocum stands aghast. "Oh!
+dear, Sister Swiggs," she says, "your escape from such a vile place is
+truly marvellous! Thank God you are with us once more." The good-natured
+fat man says, "A horrible world, truly!" and sighs. Brother Spyke shrugs
+his shoulders, adding, "No respectable person here ever thinks of going
+into such a place; the people there are so corrupt." Brother Sharp says
+he shudders at the very thought of such a place. He has heard much said
+of the dark deeds nightly committed in it&mdash;of the stubborn vileness of
+the dwellers therein. God knows he never wants to descend into it.
+"Truly," Brother Phills interposes, "I walked through it once, and
+beheld with mine eyes such sights, such human deformity! O, God! Since
+then, I am content to go to my home through Broadway. I never forget to
+shudder when I look into the vile place from a distance, nevertheless."
+Brother Phills says this after the manner of a philosopher, fretting his
+fingers, and contorting his comely face the while. Sister Slocum, having
+recovered somewhat from the shock (the shock had no permanent effect on
+any of them), hopes Sister Swiggs did not lend an ear to their false
+pleadings, nor distribute charity among the vile wretches. "Such would
+be like scattering chaff to the winds," a dozen voices chime in.
+"Indeed!" Lady Swiggs ejaculates, giving her head a toss, in token of
+her satisfaction, "not a shilling, except to the miserable wretch who
+showed me the way out. And he seemed harmless enough. I never met a more
+melancholy object, never!" Brother Spyke raises his eyes imploringly,
+and says he harbors no ill-will against these vile people, but
+melancholy is an art with them&mdash;they make it a study. They affect it
+while picking one's pocket.</p>
+
+<p>The body now resolves itself into working order. Brother Spyke offers up
+a prayer. He thanks kind Providence for the happy escape of Sister
+Swiggs&mdash;this generous woman whose kindness of heart has brought her
+here&mdash;from among the hardened wretches who inhabit that slough of
+despair, so terrible in all its aspects, and so disgraceful to a great
+and prosperous city. He thanks Him who blessed him with the light of
+learning&mdash;who endowed him with vigor and resolution&mdash;and told him to go
+forth in armor, beating down Satan, and raising up the heathen world. A
+mustering of spectacles follows. Sister Slocum draws from her bosom a
+copy of the report the wise man in the spectacles rises to read. A
+fashionable gold chain and gold-framed eye-glass is called to her aid;
+and with a massive pencil of gold, she dots and points certain items of
+dollars and cents her keen eye rests upon every now and then.</p>
+
+<p>The wise man in the spectacles rises, having exchanged glances with
+Sister Slocum, and commences reading a very long, and in nowise lean
+report. The anxious gentlemen draw up their chairs, and turn attentive
+ears. For nearly an hour, he buzzes and bores the contents of this
+report into their ears, takes sundry sips of water, and informs those
+present, and the world in general, that nearly forty thousand dollars
+have recently been consumed for missionary labor. The school at Corsica,
+the missions at Canton, Ningpo, Pu-kong, Cassaba, Abheokuta, and sundry
+other places, the names of which could not, by any possibility, aid the
+reader in discovering their location&mdash;all, were doing as well as could
+be expected, <i>under the circumstances</i>. After many years labor, and a
+considerable expenditure of money, they were encouraged to go forward,
+inasmuch as the children of the school at Corsica were beginning to
+learn to read. At Casaba, Droneyo, the native scholar, had, after many
+years' teaching, been made conscious of the sin of idol-worship, and had
+given his solemn promise to relinquish it as soon as he could propitiate
+two favorite gods bequeathed to him by his great uncle. The furnace of
+"Satanic cruelty" had been broken down at Dahomey. Brother Smash had,
+after several years' labor, and much expense&mdash;after having broken down
+his health, and the health of many others&mdash;penetrated the dark regions
+of Arabia, and there found the very seat of Satanic power. It was firmly
+pegged to Paganism and Mahomedan darkness! This news the world was
+expected to hail with consternation. Not one word is lisped about that
+terrible devil holding his court of beggary and crime in the Points. He
+had all his furnaces in full blast there; his victims were legion! No
+Brother Spyke is found to venture in and drag him down. The region of
+the Seven Churches offers inducements more congenial. Bound about them
+all is shady groves, gentle breezes, and rural habitations; in the
+Points the very air is thick with pestilence!</p>
+
+<p>A pause follows the reading. The wise man in the spectacles&mdash;his voice
+soft and persuasive, and his aspect meekness itself&mdash;would like to know
+if any one present be inclined to offer a remark. General satisfaction
+prevails. Brother Sharp moves, and Brother Phills seconds, that the
+report be accepted. The report is accepted without a dissenting voice. A
+second paper is handed him by Sister Slocum, whose countenance is seen
+to flash bright with smiles. Then there follows the proclaiming of the
+fact of funds, to the amount of three thousand six hundred dollars,
+having been subscribed, and now ready to be appropriated to getting
+Brother Syngleton Spyke off to Antioch. A din of satisfaction follows;
+every face is radiant with joy. Sister Swiggs twitches her head, begins
+to finger her pocket, and finally readjusts her spectacles. Having
+worked her countenance into a good staring condition, she sets her eyes
+fixedly upon Brother Spyke, who rises, saying he has a few words to
+offer.</p>
+
+<p>The object of his mission to Antioch, so important at this moment, he
+would not have misunderstood. Turks, Greeks, Jews, Arabs, Armenians, and
+Kurds, and Yesedees&mdash;yes, brethren, Yesedees! inhabit this part of
+Assyria, which opens up an extensive field of missionary labor, even
+yet. Much had been done by the ancient Greeks for the people who roamed
+in these Eastern wilds&mdash;much remained for us to do; for it was yet a
+dark spot on the missionary map. Thousands of these poor souls were
+without the saving knowledge of the Gospel. He could not shrink from a
+duty so demanding&mdash;wringing his very heart with its pleadings! Giving
+the light of the Gospel to these vicious Arabs and Kurds was the end and
+aim of his mission. (A motion of satisfaction was here perceptible.) And
+while there, he would teach the Jews a just sense of their Lord's
+design&mdash;which was the subjugation of the heathen world. Inward light was
+very good, old prophecies were very grand; but Judaism was made of
+stubborn metal, had no missionary element in it, and could only be
+forced to accept light through strong and energetic movement. He had
+read with throbbing heart how Rome, while in her greatness, protected
+those Christian pilgrims who went forth into the East, to do battle with
+the enemy. Would not America imitate Rome, that mighty mother of
+Republics? A deeper responsibility rested on her at this moment. Rome,
+then, was semi-barbarous; America, now, was Christianized and civilized.
+Hence she would be held more accountable for the dissemination of light.</p>
+
+<p>In those days the wandering Christian Jews undertook to instruct the
+polished Greeks&mdash;why could not Americans at this day inculcate the
+doctrines of Jesus to these educated heathen? It was a bold and daring
+experiment, but he was willing to try it. The Allwise worked his wonders
+in a mysterious way. In this irrelevant and somewhat mystical style,
+Brother Spyke continues nearly an hour, sending his audience into a
+highly-edified state. We have said mystical, for, indeed, none but those
+in the secret could have divined, from Brother Spyke's logic, what was
+the precise nature of his mission. His speech was very like a country
+parson's model sermon; one text was selected, and a dozen or more (all
+different) preached from; while fifty things were said no one could
+understand.</p>
+
+<p>Brother Spyke sits down&mdash;Sister Slocum rises. "Our dear and very
+generous guest now present," she says, addressing the good-natured fat
+man in the chair, as Lady Swiggs bows, "moved by the goodness that is in
+her, and conscious of the terrible condition of the heathen world, has
+come nobly to our aid. Like a true Christian she has crossed the sea,
+and is here. Not only is she here, but ready to give her mite toward
+getting Brother Spyke off to Antioch. Another donation she proposes
+giving the 'Tract Society,' an excellent institution, in high favor at
+the South. Indeed I may add, that it never has offended against its
+social&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Sister Slocum hesitates. Social slavery will not sound just right, she
+says to her herself. She must have a term more musical, and less grating
+to the ear. A smile flashes across her countenance, her gold-framed
+eye-glasses vibrate in her fingers: "Well! I was going to say, their
+social arrangements," she pursues.</p>
+
+<p>The assembly is suddenly thrown into a fit of excitement. Lady Swiggs is
+seen trembling from head to foot, her yellow complexion changing to pale
+white, her features contorting as with pain, and her hand clutching at
+her pocket. "O heavens!" she sighs, "all is gone, gone, gone: how vain
+and uncertain are the things here below." She drops, fainting, into the
+arms of Sister Slocum, who has overset the wise man in the spectacles,
+in her haste to catch the prostrate form. On a bench the august body is
+laid. Fans, water, camphor, hartshorn, and numerous other restoratives
+are brought into use. Persons get in each other's way, run every way but
+the right way, causing, as is common in such cases, very unnecessary
+alarm. The stately representative of the great Swiggs family lies
+motionless. Like the last of our chivalry, she has nothing left her but
+a name.</p>
+
+<p>A dash or two of cold water, and the application of a little hartshorn,
+and that sympathy so necessary to the fainting of distinguished
+people&mdash;proves all-efficient. A slight heaving of the bosom is detected,
+the hands&mdash;they have been well chaffed&mdash;quiver and move slowly, her face
+resumes its color. She opens her eyes, lays her hand solicitously on
+Sister Slocum's arm: "It must be the will of Heaven," she lisps,
+motioning her head, regretfully; "it cannot now be undone&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Sister! sister! sister!" interrupts Sister Slocum, grasping her hand,
+and looking inquiringly in the face of the recovering woman, "is it an
+affection of the heart?&mdash;where is the pain?&mdash;what has befallen you? We
+are all so sorry!"</p>
+
+<p>"It was there, there, there! But it is gone now." Regaining her
+consciousness, she lays her hand nervously upon her pocket, and pursues:
+"Oh! yes, sister, it was there when I entered that vile place, as you
+call it. What am I to do? The loss of the money does not so much trouble
+my mind. Oh! dear, no. It is the thought of going home deprived of the
+means of aiding these noble institutions."</p>
+
+<p>Had Lady Swiggs inquired into the character of the purchaser of old
+Dolly she might now have become conscious of the fact, that whatever
+comes of evil seldom does good. The money she had so struggled to get
+together to aid her in maintaining her hypocrisy, was the result of
+crime. Perhaps it were better the wretch purloined it, than that the
+fair name of a noble institution be stained with its acceptance.
+Atonement is too often sought to be purchased with the gold got of
+infamy.</p>
+
+<p>The cause of this fainting being traced to Lady Swiggs' pocket book
+instead of her heart, the whole scene changes. Sister Slocum becomes as
+one dumb, the good fat man is seized with a nervous fit, the man in the
+spectacles hangs his head, and runs his fingers through his crispy hair,
+as Brother Spyke elongates his lean body, and is seen going into a
+melancholy mood, the others gathering round with serious faces. Lady
+Swiggs commences describing with great minuteness the appearance of Mr.
+Tom Toddleworth. That he is the person who carried off the money, every
+one is certain. "He is the man!" responds a dozen voices. And as many
+more volunteer to go in search of Mr. Detective Fitzgerald. Brother
+Spyke pricks up his courage, and proceeds to initiate his missionary
+labors by consulting Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, with whom he starts off
+in pursuit of Mr. Tom Toddleworth.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXIV.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>MR. SNIVEL ADVISES GEORGE MULLHOLLAND HOW TO MAKE STRONG LOVE.</p>
+
+
+<p>Let us leave for a time the pursuit with which we concluded the
+foregoing chapter, and return to Charleston. It is the still hour of
+midnight. There has been a ball at the fashionable house of the
+Flamingo, which still retains its name. In the great parlour we have
+before described, standing here and there upon massive tables with
+Egyptian marble-tops, are half-empty bottles of wine, decanters,
+tumblers, and viands of various descriptions. Bits of artificial flowers
+are strewn about the carpet, a shawl is seen thrown over one chair, a
+mantle over another; the light is half shut off&mdash;everything bears
+evidence of the gaieties of luxurious life, the sumptuous revel and the
+debauch. The gilded mirrors reflect but two faces, both hectic and moody
+of dissipation. George Mullholland and Mr. Snivel face each other, at a
+pier-table. Before them are several half filled bottles, from one of
+which Mr. Snivel fills George's glass.</p>
+
+<p>"There is something in this champaign (one only gets rubbish in these
+houses) that compounds and elevates one's ideas," says Mr. Snivel,
+holding his glass in the light, and squinting his blood-shotten eyes,
+the lids of which he has scarce power to keep open. "Drink,
+George&mdash;drink! You have had your day&mdash;why let such nonsense trouble
+you? The whole city is in love with the girl. Her beauty makes her
+capricious; if the old Judge has got her, let him keep her. Indeed, I'm
+not so sure that she doesn't love him, and (well, I always laugh when I
+think of it), it is a well laid down principle among us lawyers, that no
+law stands good against love." Mr. Snivel's leaden eyelids close, and
+his head drops upon his bosom. "She never can love him&mdash;never! His
+wealth, and some false tale, has beguiled her. He is a hoary-headed
+lecher, with wealth and position to aid him in his hellish pursuits; I
+am poor, and an outcast! He has flattered me and showered his favors
+upon me, only to affect my ruin. I will have&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Pshaw! George," interrupts Mr. Snivel, brightening up, "be a
+philosopher. Chivalry, you know&mdash;chivalry! A dashing fellow like you
+should doff the kid to a knight of his metal: challenge him." Mr. Snivel
+reaches over the table and pats his opponent on the arm. "These women,
+George! Funny things, eh? Make any kind of love&mdash;have a sample for every
+sort of gallant, and can make the quantity to suit the purchaser. 'Pon
+my soul this is my opinion. I'm a lawyer, know pretty well how the sex
+lay their points. As for these unfortunate devils, as we of the
+profession call them (he pauses and empties his glass, saying, not bad
+for a house of this kind), there are so many shades of them, life is
+such a struggle with them; they dream of broken hopes, and they die
+sighing to think how good a thing is virtue. You only love this girl
+because she is beautiful, and beautiful women, at best, are the most
+capricious things in the world. D&mdash;n it, you have gone through enough of
+this kind of life to be accustomed to it. We think nothing of these
+things, in Charleston&mdash;bless you, nothing! Keep the Judge your
+friend&mdash;his position may give him a means to serve you. A man of the
+world ought at all times to have the private friendship of as many
+judges as he can."</p>
+
+<p>"Never! poor as I am&mdash;outcast as I feel myself! I want no such
+friendship. Society may shun me, the community may fear me, necessity
+may crush me&mdash;yea! you may regard me as a villain if you will, but, were
+I a judge, I would scorn to use my office to serve base ends." As he
+says this he draws a pistol from his pocket, and throwing it defiantly
+upon the table, continues as his lip curls with scorn, "poor men's lives
+are cheap in Charleston&mdash;let us see what rich men's are worth!"</p>
+
+<p>"His age, George!&mdash;you should respect that!" says Mr. Snivel,
+laconically.</p>
+
+<p>"His age ought to be my protection."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!&mdash;you forget that the follies of our nature too often go with us to
+the grave."</p>
+
+<p>"And am I to suffer because public opinion honors him, and gives him
+power to disgrace me? Can he rob me of the one I love&mdash;of the one in
+whose welfare my whole soul is staked, and do it with impunity?"</p>
+
+<p>"D&mdash;&mdash;d inconvenient, I know, George. Sympathize with you, I do. But,
+you see, we are governed here by the laws of chivalry. Don't let your (I
+am a piece of a philosopher, you see) temper get up, keep on a stiff
+upper lip. You may catch him napping. I respect your feelings, my dear
+fellow; ready to do you a bit of a good turn&mdash;you understand! Now let me
+tell you, my boy, he has made her his adopted, and to-morrow she moves
+with him to his quiet little villa near the Magnolia."</p>
+
+<p>"I am a poor, forlorn wretch," interrupts George, with a sigh. "Those
+of whom I had a right to expect good counsel, and a helping hand, have
+been first to encourage me in the ways of evil&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Get money, Mullholland&mdash;get money. It takes money to make love strong.
+Say what you will, a woman's heart is sure to be sound on the gold
+question. Mark ye, Mullholland!&mdash;there is an easy way to get money. Do
+you take? (His fingers wander over his forehead, as he watches intently
+in George's face.) You can make names? Such things are done by men in
+higher walks, you know. Quite a common affair in these parts. The Judge
+has carried off your property; make a fair exchange&mdash;you can use his
+name, get money with it, and make it hold fast the woman you love. There
+are three things, George, you may set down as facts that will be of
+service to you through life, and they are these: when a man eternally
+rings in your ears the immoralities of the age, watch him closely; when
+a man makes what he has done for others a boast, set him down a knave;
+and when a woman dwells upon the excellent qualities of her many
+admirers, set her down as wanting. But, get money, and when you have got
+it, charm back this beautiful creature."</p>
+
+<p>Such is the advice of Mr. Soloman Snivel, the paid intriguer of the
+venerable Judge.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXV.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>A SLIGHT CHANGE IN THE PICTURE.</p>
+
+
+<p>The two lone revellers remain at the pier-table, moody and hectic. Mr.
+Snivel drops into a sound sleep, his head resting on the marble.
+Weak-minded, jealous, contentious&mdash;with all the attendants natural to
+one who leads an unsettled life, sits George Mullholland, his elbow
+resting on the table, and his head poised thoughtfully in his hand. "I
+will have revenge&mdash;sweet revenge; yes, I will have revenge to-night!" he
+mutters, and sets his teeth firmly.</p>
+
+<p>In Anna's chamber all is hushed into stillness. The silvery moonbeams
+play softly through the half-closed windows, lighting up and giving an
+air of enchantment to the scene. Curtains hang, mist-like, from massive
+cornices in gilt. Satin drapery, mysteriously underlaid with lace, and
+floating in bewitching chasteness over a fairy-like bed, makes more
+voluptuous that ravishing form calmly sleeping&mdash;half revealed among the
+snowy sheets, and forming a picture before which fancy soars, passion
+unbends itself, and sentiment is led away captive. With such exquisite
+forms strange nature excites our love;&mdash;that love that like a little
+stream meanders capriciously through our feelings, refreshing life,
+purifying our thoughts, exciting our ambition, and modulating our
+actions. That love, too, like a quicksand, too often proves a destroyer
+to the weak-minded.</p>
+
+<p>Costly chairs, of various styles carved in black walnut, stand around
+the chamber: lounges covered with chastely-designed tapestry are seen
+half concealed by the gorgeous window curtains. The foot falls upon a
+soft, Turkey carpet; the ceiling&mdash;in French white, and gilt
+mouldings&mdash;is set off with two Cupids in a circle, frescoed by a skilled
+hand. On a lounge, concealed in an alcove masked by curtains pending
+from the hands of a fairy in bronze, and nearly opposite Anna's bed, the
+old Judge sleeps in his judicial dignity. To-day he sentenced three
+rogues to the whipping-post, and two wretched negroes&mdash;one for raising
+his hand to a white man&mdash;to the gallows.</p>
+
+<p>Calmly Anna continues to sleep, the lights in the girandoles shedding a
+mysterious paleness over the scene. To the eye that scans only the
+exterior of life, how dazzling! Like a refulgent cloud swelling golden
+in the evening sky, how soon it passes away into darkness and
+disappointment! Suddenly there appears, like a vision in the chamber,
+the stately figure of a female. Advancing slowly to the bed-side, for a
+minute she stands contemplating the sleeping beauty before her. A dark,
+languishing eye, an aquiline nose, beautifully-cut mouth, and a
+finely-oval face, is revealed by the shadow in which she stands. "How
+willingly," she mutters, raising the jewelled fingers of her right hand
+to her lips, as her eyes become liquid with emotion, and her every
+action betokens one whose very soul is goaded with remorse, "would I
+exchange all these worldly pleasures for one single day in peace of
+mind." She lays aside her mantle, and keeps her eyes fixed upon the
+object before her. A finely-rounded shoulder and exactly-developed bust
+is set off with a light satin bodice or corsage, cut low, opening
+shawl-fashion at the breast, and relieved with a stomacher of fine
+Brussels lace. Down the edges are rows of small, unpolished pearls,
+running into points. A skirt of orange-colored brocade, trimmed with
+tulle, and surrounded with three flounces, falls, cloud-like, from her
+girdle, which is set with cameos and unpolished pearls. With her left
+hand she raises slightly her skirts, revealing the embroidered gimps of
+a white taffeta underskirt, flashing in the moonlight. Small, unpolished
+pearls ornament the bands of her short sleeves; on her fingers are
+rings, set with diamonds and costly emeralds; and her wrists are clasped
+with bracelets of diamonds, shedding a modest lustre over her
+marble-like arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Can this be my child? Has this crime that so like a demon haunts
+me&mdash;that curses me even in my dreams, driven her, perhaps against her
+will, to seek this life of shame?" She takes the sleeper's hand gently
+in her own, as the tears gush down her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>The sleeper startles, half raises herself from her pillow, parts her
+black, silky hair, that lays upon her gently-swelling bosom, and throws
+it carelessly down her shoulders, wildly setting her great black orbs on
+the strange figure before her. "Hush, hush!" says the speaker, "I am a
+friend. One who seeks you for a good purpose. Give me your
+confidence&mdash;do not betray me! I need not tell you by what means I gained
+access to you."</p>
+
+<p>A glow of sadness flashes across Anna's countenance. With a look of
+suspicion she scans the mysterious figure from head to foot. "It is the
+Judge's wife!" she says within herself. "Some one has betrayed me to
+her; and, as is too often the case, she seeks revenge of the less guilty
+party." But the figure before her is in full dress, and one seeking
+revenge would have disguised herself. "Why, and who is it, that seeks me
+in this mysterious manner?" whispers Anna, holding her delicate hand in
+the shadow, over her eyes. "I seek you in the hope of finding something
+to relieve my troubled spirit, I am a mother who has wronged her
+child&mdash;I have no peace of mind&mdash;my heart is lacerated&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Are you, then, my mother?" interrupts Anna, with a look of scorn.</p>
+
+<p>"That I would answer if I could. You have occupied my thoughts day and
+night. I have traced your history up to a certain period. ("What I know
+of my own, I would fain not contemplate," interrupts Anna.) Beyond that,
+all is darkness. And yet there are circumstances that go far to prove
+you the child I seek. Last night I dreamed I saw a gate leading to a
+dungeon, that into the dungeon I was impelled against my will. While
+there I was haunted with the figure of a woman of the name of Mag
+Munday&mdash;a maniac, and in chains! My heart bled at the sight, for she, I
+thought, was the woman in whose charge I left the child I seek. I
+spoke&mdash;I asked her what had become of the child! She pointed with her
+finger, told me to go seek you here, and vanished as I awoke. I spent
+the day in unrest, went to the ball to-night, but found no pleasure in
+its gay circle. Goaded in my conscience, I left the ball-room, and with
+the aid of a confidant am here."</p>
+
+<p>"I recognize&mdash;yes, my lady, I recognize you! You think me your abandoned
+child, and yet you are too much the slave of society to seek me as a
+mother ought to do. I am the supposed victim of your crime; you are the
+favored and flattered ornament of society. Our likenesses have been
+compared many times:&mdash;I am glad we have met. Go, woman, go! I would not,
+outcast as I am, deign to acknowledge the mother who could enjoy the
+luxuries of life and see her child a wretch."</p>
+
+<p>"Woman! do not upbraid me. Spare, oh! spare my troubled heart this last
+pang," (she grasps convulsively at Anna's hand, then shrinks back in
+fright.) "Tell me! oh, tell me!" she pursues, the tears coursing down
+her cheeks&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Anna Bonard interrupts by saying, peremptorily, she has nothing to tell
+one so guilty. To be thus rebuked by an abandoned woman, notwithstanding
+she might be her own child, wounded her feelings deeply. It was like
+poison drying up her very blood. Tormented with the thought of her
+error, (for she evidently labored under the smart of an error in early
+life,) her very existence now seemed a burden to her. Gloomy and
+motionless she stood, as if hesitating how best to make her escape.</p>
+
+<p>"Woman! I will not betray your coming here. But you cannot give me back
+my virtue; you cannot restore me untainted to the world&mdash;the world never
+forgives a fallen woman. Her own sex will be first to lacerate her heart
+with her shame." These words were spoken with such biting sarcasm, that
+the Judge, whose nap the loudness of Anna's voice had disturbed,
+protruded his flushed face and snowy locks from out the curtains of the
+alcove. "The gay Madame Montford, as I am a Christian," he exclaims in
+the eagerness of the moment, and the strange figure vanishes out of the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>"A fashionable, but very mysterious sort of person," pursues the Judge,
+confusedly. "Ah! ha,&mdash;her case, like many others, is the want of a clear
+conscience. Snivel has it in hand. A great knave, but a capital lawyer,
+that Snivel&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The Judge is interrupted in his remarks by the entrance of Mr. Snivel,
+who, with hectic face, and flushed eyes, comes rushing into the chamber.
+"Hollo!&mdash;old boy, there's a high bid on your head to-night. Ready to do
+you a bit of a good turn, you see." Mr. Snivel runs his fingers through
+his hair, and works his shoulders with an air of exultation. "If," he
+continues, "that weak-minded fellow&mdash;that Mullholland we have shown some
+respect to, hasn't got a pistol! He's been furbishing it up while in the
+parlor, and swears he will seriously damage you with it. Blasted
+assurance, those Northerners have. Won't fight, can't make 'em
+gentlemen; and if you knock 'em down they don't understand enough of
+chivalry to resent it. They shout to satisfy their fear and not to
+maintain their honor. Keep an eye out!"</p>
+
+<p>The Judge, in a tone of cool indifference, says he has no fears of the
+renegade, and will one of these days have the pleasure of sending him to
+the whipping-post.</p>
+
+<p>"As to that, Judge," interposes Mr. Snivel, "I have already prepared the
+preliminaries. I gave him the trifle you desired&mdash;to-morrow I will nail
+him at the Keno crib." With this the Judge and the Justice each take an
+affectionate leave of the frail girl, and, as it is now past one o'clock
+in the morning, an hour much profaned in Charleston, take their
+departure.</p>
+
+<p>Armed with a revolver Mullholland has taken up his position in the
+street, where he awaits the coming of his adversaries. In doubt and
+anxiety, he reflects and re-reflects, recurs to the associations of his
+past life, and hesitates. Such reflections only bring more vividly to
+his mind the wrong he feels himself the victim of, and has no power to
+resent except with violence. His contemplations only nerve him to
+revenge.</p>
+
+<p>A click, and the door cautiously opens, as if some votary of crime was
+about to issue forth in quest of booty. The hostess' head protrudes
+suddenly from the door, she scans first up and then down the street,
+then withdraws it. The Judge and Mr. Snivel, each in turn, shake the
+landlady by the hand, and emerge into the street. They have scarce
+stepped upon the sidepath when the report of a pistol resounds through
+the air. The ball struck a lamp-post, glanced, passed through the collar
+of Judge Sleepyhorn's coat, and brushed Mr. Snivel's fashionable
+whiskers. Madame Ashley, successor to Madame Flamingo, shrieks and
+alarms the house, which is suddenly thrown into a state of confusion.
+Acting upon the maxim of discretion being the better part of valor, the
+Judge and the Justice beat a hasty retreat into the house, and secrete
+themselves in a closet at the further end of the back-parlor.</p>
+
+<p>As if suddenly moved by some strange impulse, Madame Ashley runs from
+room to room, screaming at the very top of her voice, and declaring that
+she saw the assassin enter her house. Females rush from their rooms and
+into the great parlor, where they form groups of living statuary,
+strange and grotesque. Anxious faces&mdash;faces half painted, faces hectic
+of dissipation, faces waning and sallow, eyes glassy and lascivious,
+dishevelled hair floating over naked shoulders;&mdash;the flashing of
+bewitching drapery, the waving and flitting of embroidered underskirts,
+the tripping of pretty feet and prettier ankles, the gesticulating and
+swaying of half-draped bodies&mdash;such is the scene occasioned by the bench
+and the bar.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Ashley, having inherited of Madame Flamingo the value of a
+scrupulous regard for the good reputation of her house, must needs call
+in the watch to eject the assassin, whom she swears is concealed
+somewhere on the premises. Mr. Sergeant Stubbs, a much respected
+detective, and reputed one of the very best officers of the guard,
+inasmuch as he never troubles his head about other people's business,
+and is quite content to let every one fight their own battles,&mdash;provided
+they give him a "nip" of whiskey when they are through, lights his
+lantern and goes bobbing into every room in the house. We must here
+inform the reader that the cause of the <i>emeute</i> was kept a profound
+secret between the judicial gentry. Madame Ashley, at the same time, is
+fully convinced the ball was intended for her, while Anna lays in a
+terrible fright in her chamber.</p>
+
+<p>"Ho," says Mr. Stubbs, starting back suddenly as he opened the door of
+the closet in which the two gentlemen had concealed themselves. "I see!
+I see!&mdash;beg your pardon, gentlemen!" Mr. Stubbs whispers, and bows, and
+shuts the door quickly.</p>
+
+<p>"An infernal affair this, Judge! D&mdash;n me if I wouldn't as soon be in the
+dock. It will all get out to-morrow," interposes Mr. Snivel,
+facetiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Blast these improper associations!" the high functionary exclaims,
+fussily shrugging his shoulders, and wiping the sweat from his forehead.
+"I love the girl, though, I confess it!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing more natural. A man without gallantry is like a pilgrim in the
+South-West Pass. You can't resist this charming creature. In truth it's
+a sort of longing weakness, which even the scales of justice fail to
+bring to a balance."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Stubbs fails to find the assassin, and enters Madame Ashley's
+chamber, the door of which leads into the hall. Here Mr. Stubbs's quick
+eye suddenly discerns a slight motion of the curtains that enclose the
+great, square bed, standing in one corner. "I ax your pardon, Mam, but
+may I look in this 'ere bed?" Mr. Stubbs points to the bed, as Madame,
+having thrown herself into a great rocking chair, proceeds to sway her
+dignity backward and forward, and give out signs of making up her mind
+to faint.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Stubbs draws back the curtains, when, behold! but tell it not in the
+by-ways, there is revealed the stalworth figure of Simon Patterson, the
+plantation parson. Our plantation parsons, be it known, are a singular
+species of depraved humanity, a sort of itinerant sermon-makers, holding
+forth here and there to the negroes of the rich planters, receiving a
+paltry pittance in return, and having in lieu of morals an excellent
+taste for whiskey, an article they invariably call to their aid when
+discoursing to the ignorant slave&mdash;telling him how content with his lot
+he ought to be, seeing that God intended him only for ignorance and
+servitude. The parson did, indeed, cut a sorry figure before the gaze of
+this indescribable group, as it rushed into the room and commenced
+heaping upon his head epithets delicacy forbids our inserting
+here&mdash;calling him a clerical old lecher, an assassin, and a disturber of
+the peace and respectability of the house. Indeed, Madame Ashley quite
+forgot to faint, and with a display of courage amounting almost to
+heroism, rushed at the poor parson, and had left him in the state he was
+born but for the timely precautions of Mr. Stubbs, who, finding a
+revolver in his possession, and wanting no better proof of his guilt,
+straightway took him off to the guard-house. Parson Patterson would have
+entered the most solemn and pious protestation of his innocence but the
+evidence was so strong against him, and the zeal of Mr. Sergeant Stubbs
+so apparent, that he held it the better policy to quietly submit to the
+rough fare of his new lodgings.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a terror of these brawls!" says Mr. Snivel, emerging from his
+hiding-place, and entering the chamber, followed by the high legal
+functionary.</p>
+
+<p>"A pretty how-do-ye-do, this is;" returns Madame Ashley, cooling her
+passion in the rocking-chair, "I never had much respect for parsons&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Parsons?" interrupts Mr. Snivel, inquiringly, "you don't mean to say it
+was all the doings of a parson?"</p>
+
+<p>"As I'm a lady it was no one else. He was discovered behind the curtain
+there, a terrible pistol in his pocket&mdash;the wretch!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel exchanges a wink with the Judge, points his thumb over his
+left shoulder, and says, captiously: "I always had an implacable hatred
+of that old thief. A bad lot! these plantation parsons."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Stubbs having discovered and removed the assassin, the terrified
+damsels return to their chambers, and Madame Ashley proceeds to close
+her house, as the two legal gentlemen take their departure. Perhaps it
+would be well to inform the reader that a principal cause of Anna's
+preference for the Judge, so recently manifested, was the deep
+impression made on her already suspicious mind by Mr. McArthur, the
+antiquary, who revealed to her sincerely, as she thought, her future
+dark destiny.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXVI.</h3>
+
+<p class='center' style='font-size:smaller'>IN WHICH A HIGH FUNCTIONARY IS MADE TO PLAY A SINGULAR PART.</p>
+
+
+<p>The morning following the events detailed in the foregoing chapter,
+finds the august Sleepyhorn seated on his judgment-seat. The clock
+strikes ten as he casts his heavy eyes over the grotesque group gathered
+into his little, dingy court-room; and he bows to his clerk, of whom he
+gets his law knowledge, and with his right hand makes a sign that he is
+ready to admonish the erring, or pass sentence on any amount of
+criminals. History affords no record of a judge so unrelenting of his
+judgments.</p>
+
+<p>A few dilapidated gentlemen of the "<i>learned</i> profession," with sharp
+features and anxious faces, fuss about among the crowd, reeking of
+whiskey and tobacco. Now they whisper suspiciously in the ears of
+forlorn prisoners, now they struggle to get a market for their legal
+nostrums. A few, more respectably clothed and less vicious of aspect,
+sit writing at a table inside the bar, while a dozen or more punch-faced
+policemen, affecting an air of superiority, drag themselves lazily
+through the crowd of seedy humanity, looking querulously over the
+railing encircling the dock, or exchanging recognitions with friends.</p>
+
+<p>Some twenty "negro cases" having been disposed of without much respect
+to law, and being sent up for punishment (the Judge finds it more
+convenient to forego testimony in these cases), a daughter of the
+Emerald Isle, standing nearly six feet in her bare soles, and much
+shattered about the dress, is, against her inclination, arraigned before
+his Honor. "I think I have seen you before, Mrs. Donahue?" says the
+Judge, inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>"Arrah, good-morning, yer 'onher! Shure, it's only the sixth time these
+three weeks. Doesn't meself like to see yer smiling face, onyhow!" Here
+Mrs. Donahue commences complimenting the Judge in one breath, and laying
+no end of charges at the door of the very diminutive and harmless Mister
+Donahue in the next.</p>
+
+<p>"This being the sixth time," returns his Honor, somewhat seriously, "I
+would advise you to compromise the matter with Donahue, and not be seen
+here again. The state of South Carolina cannot pay your fees so often&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Och, bad luck to Donahue! Troth, an' if yer onher'd put the fees down
+to Donahue, our acquaintance 'ouldn't be so fraquent." Mrs. Donahue says
+this with great unction, throwing her uncombed hair back, then daintily
+raising her dress apace, and inquiring of Mr. Sheriff Hardscrabble, who
+sits on his Honor's left, peering sharply through his spectacles, how he
+likes the spread of her broad, flat foot; "the charging the fees to
+Donahue, yer onher, 'd do it!" There was more truth in this remark than
+his Honor seemed to comprehend, for having heard the charge against her
+(Mr. Donahue having been caught in the act of taking a drop of her gin,
+she had well-nigh broken his head with the bottle), and having listened
+attentively while poor Donahue related his wrongs, and exhibited two
+very well blacked eyes and a broken nose, he came to the very just
+conclusion that it were well to save the blood of the Donahues. And to
+this end did he grant Mrs. Donahue board and lodging for one month in
+the old prison. Mrs. Donahue is led away, heaping curses on the head of
+Donahue, and compliments on that of his Honor.</p>
+
+<p>A pale, sickly looking boy, some eleven years old, is next placed upon
+the stand. Mr. Sergeant Stubbs, who leans his corpulent figure against
+the clerk's desk, every few minutes bowing his sleepy head to some
+friend in the crowd, says: "A hard 'un&mdash;don't do no good about here. A
+vagrant; found him sleeping in the market."</p>
+
+<p>His Honor looks at the poor boy for some minutes, a smile of kindliness
+seems lighting up his face; he says he would there were some place of
+refuge&mdash;a place where reformation rather than punishment might be the
+aim and end, where such poor creatures could be sent to, instead of
+confining them in cells occupied by depraved prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sheriff Hardscrabble, always eager to get every one into jail he
+can, inasmuch as it pays him twenty-two cents a day clear profit on each
+and every person confined, says: "A hard customer. Found sleeping in the
+market, eh? Well, we must merge him in a tub of water, and scrub him up
+a little." Mr. Hardscrabble views him with an air of satisfaction,
+touches him with a small cane he holds in his hand, as if he were
+something very common. Indeed, Mr. Hardscrabble seems quite at a loss to
+know what species of animal he is, or whether he be really intended for
+any other use than filling up his cells and returning him twenty-two
+cents a day clear profit. "Probably an incendiary," mutters the
+sagacious sheriff. The helpless boy would explain how he came to sleep
+in the market&mdash;how he, a poor cabin-boy, walked, foot-sore and hungry,
+from Wilmington, in the hope of getting a ship; and being moneyless and
+friendless he laid down in the market to sleep. Mr. Hardscrabble,
+however, suggests that such stories are extremely common. His Honor
+thinks it not worth while to differ from this opinion, but to the end
+that no great legal wisdom may be thrown away, he orders the accused to
+be sent to the common jail for three months. This, in the opinion of
+Judge Sleepyhorn, is an extremely mild penalty for being found sleeping
+in the market.</p>
+
+<p>Next there comes forward a lean, up-country Cracker, (an half-civilized
+native,) who commences telling his story with commendable simplicity,
+the Judge in the meanwhile endeavoring to suppress a smile, which the
+quaintness of his remarks excite. Making a tenement of his cart, as is
+usual with these people when they visit the city, which they do now and
+then for the purpose of replenishing their stock of whiskey, he had,
+about eleven o'clock on the previous night, been set upon by three
+intoxicated students, who, having driven off his mule, overturned his
+cart, landing him and his wife prostrate in the ditch. A great noise was
+the result, and the guard, with their accustomed zeal for seizing upon
+the innocent party, dragged up the weaker (the Cracker and his wife) and
+let the guilty go free. He had brought the good wife, he added, as a
+living evidence of the truth of what he said, and would bring the mule
+if his honor was not satisfied. The good wife commences a volley of what
+she is pleased to call voluntary testimony, praising and defending all
+the good qualities of her much-abused husband, without permitting any
+one else an opposing word. No sufficient charge being brought against
+the Cracker (he wisely slipped a five dollar bill into the hands of
+Stubbs), he joins his good wife and goes on his way rejoicing.</p>
+
+<p>During this little episode between the court and the Cracker's wife,
+Madame Grace Ashley, arrayed in her most fashionable toilet, comes
+blazing into Court, bows to the Judge and a few of her most select
+friends of the Bar. A seat for Madame is provided near his Honor's desk.
+His Honor's blushes seem somewhat overtaxed; Madame, on the other hand,
+is not at all disconcerted; indeed, she claims an extensive acquaintance
+with the most distinguished of the Bar.</p>
+
+<p>The Judge suggests to Mr. Stubbs that it would be as well to waive the
+charge against the clergyman. Somewhat the worse for his night in the
+guard-house, Parson Patterson comes forward and commences in the most
+unintelligible manner to explain the whole affair, when the Judge very
+blandly interrupts by inquiring if he is a member of the clergy at this
+moment. "Welle," returns the parson, with characteristic drawl, "can't
+zactly say I am." The natural seediness of the parson excites suspicion,
+nevertheless he is scrupulous of his white cravat, and preserves withal
+a strictly clerical aspect. Having paused a few moments and exchanged
+glances with the Judge, he continues: "I do nigger preaching on
+Sunday&mdash;that is (Parson Patterson corrects himself), I hold forth, here
+and there&mdash;we are all flesh and blood&mdash;on plantations when I have a
+demand for my services. Our large planters hold it good policy to
+encourage the piety of their property."</p>
+
+<p>"You make a good thing of it?" inquires the Judge, jocosely. The parson
+replies, with much meekness of manner, that business is not so good as
+it was, planters having got it into their heads that sermons can be got
+at a very low figure. Here he commences to explain his singular
+position. He happened to meet an old and much-esteemed friend, whom he
+accompanied home, and while spending the evening conversing on
+spiritual matters&mdash;it was best not to lie&mdash;he took a little too much. On
+his way to the hotel he selected Beresford street as a short cut, and
+being near the house where he was unfortunately found when the shooting
+took place, he ran into it to escape the police&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Don't believe a word he says," interrupts Madame Ashley, springing
+suddenly to her feet, and commencing to pour out her phials of wrath on
+the head of the poor parson, whom she accuses of being a suspicious and
+extremely unprofitable frequenter of her house, which she describes as
+exceedingly respectable. "Your Honor can bear me out in what I say!"
+pursues Madame, bowing with an air of exultation, as the sheriff demands
+order.</p>
+
+<p>"A sorry lot, these plantation preachers! Punish him right soundly, your
+honor. It is not the first time he has damaged the respectability of my
+house!" again interrupts Madame Ashley. His Honor replies only with a
+blush. Mr. Snivel, who watches with quisical countenance, over the bar,
+enjoys the joke wonderfully.</p>
+
+<p>Order being restored, the Judge turns to address the parson.</p>
+
+<p>"I see, my friend&mdash;I always address my prisoners familiarly&mdash;you place
+but little value on the fact of your being a clergyman, on the ground
+that you only preach to slaves. This charge brought against you is a
+grave one&mdash;I assure you! And I cannot incline to the view you take of
+your profession. I may not be as erudite as some; however, I hold it
+that the ignorant and not the learned have most need of good example."</p>
+
+<p>"Aye! I always told the old reprobate so," interposes Madam Ashley, with
+great fervor.</p>
+
+<p>"A charge," resumes the Judge, "quite sufficient to warrant me in
+committing you to durance vile, might be preferred. You may thank my
+generosity that it is not. These houses, as you know, Mr. Patterson, are
+not only dangerous, but damaging to men of potent morality like you."</p>
+
+<p>"But, your Honor knows, they are much frequented," meekly drawls the
+parson.</p>
+
+<p>"It affords no palliation," sharply responds the Judge, his face
+crimsoning with blushes. "Mark ye, my friend of the clergy, these places
+make sad destruction of our young men. Indeed I may say with becoming
+sincerity and truth, that they spread a poison over the community, and
+act as the great enemy of our social system."</p>
+
+<p>"Heigh ho!" ejaculates Madame Ashley, to the great delight of the throng
+assembled, "Satan has come to rebuke sin." Madame bids his Honor a very
+polite good morning, and takes her departure, looking disdainfully over
+her shoulder as she disappears out of the door.</p>
+
+<p>Not a little disturbed in his equanimity, the Judge pursues his charge.
+"The clergy ought to keep their garments clear of such places, for being
+the source of all evil, the effect on the community is not good&mdash;I mean
+when such things are brought to light! I would address you frankly and
+admonish you to go no more into such places. Let your ways merit the
+approbation of those to whom you preach the Gospel. You can go.
+Henceforth, live after the ways of the virtuous."</p>
+
+<p>Parson Patterson thanks his Honor, begs to assure him of his innocence,
+and seems only too anxious to get away. His Honor bows to Mr. Patterson,
+Mr. Patterson returns it, and adds another for the audience, whereupon
+the court adjourns, and so ends the episode. His Honor takes Mr.
+Snivel's arm, and together they proceed to the "most convenient" saloon,
+where, over a well-compounded punch, "the bench and the bar" compliment
+each other on the happy disposal of such vexatious cases.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXVII.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;' >THE HOUSE OF THE NINE NATIONS, AND WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN IT.</p>
+
+
+<p>On the corner of Anthony street and the Points,<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> in New-York, there
+stands, like a grim savage, the house of the Nine Nations, a dingy
+wooden tenement, that for twenty years has threatened to tumble away
+from its more upright neighbor, and before which the stranger wayfarer
+is seen to stop and contemplate. In a neighborhood redolent of crime,
+there it stands, its vices thick upon its head, exciting in the mind of
+the observer its association with some dark and terrible deed. On the
+one side, opens that area of misery, mud and sombre walls, called "Cow
+Bay;" on the other a triangular plot, reeking with the garbage of the
+miserable cellars that flank it, and in which swarms of wasting beings
+seek a hiding-place, inhale pestilential air, and die. Gutters running
+with seething matter; homeless outcasts sitting, besotted, on crazy
+doorsteps; the vicious, with savage visage, and keen, watchful eye,
+loitering at the doors of filthy "groceries;" the sickly and neglected
+child crawling upon the side-pave, or seeking a crust to appease its
+hunger&mdash;all are found here, gasping, in rags, a breath of air by day, or
+seeking a shelter, at night, in dens so abject that the world can
+furnish no counterpart. And this forlorn picture of dilapidated houses,
+half-clad, squabbish women, blistered-faced men, and sickly children,
+the house of the Nine Nations overlooks. And yet this house, to the
+disgrace of an opulent people be it said, is but the sample of an
+hundred others standing in the same neighborhood.</p>
+
+<p>With its basement-doors opening into its bottomless pit; with its
+continual outgoing and ingoing of sooty and cruel-visaged denizens; with
+its rickety old steps leading to the second story; with its battered
+windows, begrimed walls, demolished shutters, clapboards hanging at
+sixes and sevens&mdash;with its suspicious aspect;&mdash;there it stands, with its
+distained sign over the doors of its bottomless pit. You may read on
+this sign, that a gentleman from Ireland, who for convenience' sake we
+will call Mr. Krone, is licensed to sell imported and other liquors.</p>
+
+<p>Indeed the house of the Nine Nations would seem to say within itself: "I
+am mother of this banquet of death you behold with your eyes." There it
+stands, its stream of poison hurrying its victims to the grave; its
+little dark passages leading to curious hiding-places; its caving roof,
+and its ominous-looking back platform, overlooking the dead walls of
+Murderers' Yard. How it mocks your philanthropy, your regal edifices,
+your boasted charities&mdash;your gorgeous churches! Everybody but the
+corporation knows the house of the Nine Nations, a haunt for wasted
+prostitutes, assassins, burglars, thieves&mdash;every grade of criminals
+known to depraved nature. The corporation would seem either to have a
+charming sympathy for it, or to look upon it with that good-natured
+indifference so happily illustrated while eating its oysters and
+drinking its whiskey. An empty-headed corporation is sure always to
+have its hands very full, which is the case with yours at this moment.
+Having the people's money to waste, its own ambition to serve, and its
+hat to fill with political waste paper&mdash;what more would you ask of it?</p>
+
+<p>The man of the house of the Nine Nations, you ought to know, makes
+criminals by the hundred, deluges your alms houses with paupers, and
+makes your Potters' field reek with his victims: for this he is become
+rich. Mr. Krone is an intimate friend of more than one Councilman, and a
+man of much measure in the political world&mdash;that is, Mr. Krone is a
+politician-maker. When you say there exists too close an intimacy
+between the pugilist and the politician, Mr. Krone will bet twenty
+drinks with any one of his customers that he can prove such doctrines at
+fault. He can secure the election of his favorite candidate with the
+same facility that he can make an hundred paupers per week. You may well
+believe him a choice flower in the bouquet of the corporation; we mean
+the corporation that banquets and becomes jubilant while assassins stab
+their victims in the broad street&mdash;that becomes befogged while bands of
+ruffians disgrace the city with their fiendish outrages&mdash;that makes
+presidents and drinks whiskey when the city would seem given over to the
+swell-mobsman&mdash;when no security is offered to life, and wholesale
+harlotry, flaunting with naked arms and bared bosoms, passes along in
+possession of Broadway by night.</p>
+
+<p>It is the night succeeding the day Lady Swiggs discovered, at the house
+of the Foreign Missions, the loss of her cherished donations. As this is
+a world of disappointments, Lady Swiggs resigns herself to this most
+galling of all, and with her Milton firmly grasped in her hand, may be
+seen in a little room at Sister Scudder's, rocking herself in the
+arm-chair, and wondering if Brother Spyke has captured the
+robber-wretch. A chilly wind howls, and a drizzling rain falls thick
+over the dingy dwellings of the Points, which, sullen and dark, seem in
+a dripping mood. A glimmering light, here and there, throws curious
+shadows over the liquid streets. Now the drenched form of some
+half-naked and homeless being is reflected, standing shivering in the
+entrance to some dark and narrow alley; then the half-crazed inebriate
+hurries into the open door of a dismal cellar, or seeks eagerly a
+shelter for his bewildered head, in some suspicious den. Flashing
+through the shadow of the police lamp, in "Cow Bay," a forlorn female is
+seen, a bottle held tightly under her shawl. Sailing as it were into the
+bottomless pit of the house of the Nine Nations, then suddenly returning
+with the drug, seeking the cheerless garret of her dissolute partner,
+and there striving to blunt her feelings against the horrors of
+starvation.</p>
+
+<p>Two men stand, an umbrella over their heads, at the corner, in the glare
+of the bottomless pit, which is in a blaze of light, and crowded with
+savage-faced figures, of various ages and colors,&mdash;all habited in the
+poison-seller's uniform of rags. "I don't think you'll find him here,
+sir," says one, addressing the other, who is tall and slender of person,
+and singularly timid. "God knows I am a stranger here. To-morrow I leave
+for Antioch," is the reply, delivered in nervous accents. The one is
+Brother Syngleton Spyke, the other Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, a man of
+more than middle stature, with compact figure, firmly-knit limbs, and an
+expression of countenance rather pleasant.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, sir, this Toddleworth is a harmless creature, always aims to
+be obliging and civil. I don't, sir&mdash;I really don't think he'll steal.
+But one can't tell what a man will do who is driven to such straits as
+the poor devils here are. We rather like Toddleworth at the station,
+look upon him as rather wanting in the head, and for that reason rather
+incline to favor him. I may say we now and then let him 'tie up' all
+night in the station. And for this he seems very thankful. I may say,"
+continues Mr. Fitzgerald, touching the visor of his cap, "that he always
+repays with kindness any little attention we may extend to him at the
+station, and at times seems too anxious to make it his home. We give him
+a shirt and a few shillings now and then; and when we want to be rid of
+him we begin to talk about fashionable wives. He is sure to go then.
+Can't stand such a topic, I assure you, sir, and is sure to go off in a
+huff when Sergeant Pottle starts it."</p>
+
+<p>They enter the great door of the bottomless pit; the young missionary
+hesitates. His countenance changes, his eyes scan steadily over the
+scene. A room some sixty feet by twenty opens to his astonished eyes.
+Its black, boarded walls, and bare beams, are enlivened here and there
+with extravagant pictures of notorious pugilists, show-bills, and
+illustrated advertisements of lascivious books, in which the murder of
+an unfortunate woman is the principal feature. Slippery mud covers the
+floor. Mr. Krone sits on an empty whiskey-barrel, his stunted features
+betraying the hardened avarice of his character. He smokes his black
+pipe, folds his arms deliberately, discoursing of the affairs of the
+nation to two stupefied negroes and one blear-eyed son of the Emerald
+Isle. Three uncouth females, with hair hanging matted over their faces,
+and their features hidden in distortion, stand cooling their bared limbs
+at a running faucet just inside the door, to the left. A group of
+half-naked negroes lie insensible on the floor, to the right. A little
+further on two prostrate females, shivering, and reeking of gin, sleep
+undisturbed by the profanity that is making the very air resound. "The
+gin gets a-many of us," is the mournful cry of many a wasting inebriate.
+Mr. Krone, however, will tell you he has no sympathy with such cries.
+You arraign, and perhaps punish, the apothecary who sells by mistake his
+deadly drug. With a philosophical air, Mr. Krone will tell you he deals
+out his poison without scruple, fills alms-houses without a pang of
+remorse, and proves that a politician-maker may do much to degrade
+society and remain in high favor with his friends of the bench of
+justice. On one side of the dungeon-like place stands a rickety old
+counter, behind which three savage-faced men stand, filling and serving
+incessant potions of deleterious liquor to the miserable beings, haggard
+and ragged, crowding to be first served. Behind the bar, or counter,
+rises a pyramid of dingy shelves, on which are arranged little painted
+kegs, labelled, and made bright by the glaring gas-light reflected upon
+them. On the opposite side, on rows of slab benches, sit a group of
+motley beings,&mdash;the young girl and the old man, the negro and the frail
+white,&mdash;half sleeping, half conscious; all imbibing the stifling
+draught.</p>
+
+<p>Like revelling witches in rags, and seen through the bedimmed atmosphere
+at the further end of the den, are half-frantic men, women, and girls,
+now sitting at deal tables, playing for drinks, now jostling, jeering,
+and profaning in wild disorder. A girl of sixteen, wasted and deformed
+with dissipation, approaches Brother Spyke, extends her blanched hand,
+and importunes him for gin. He shudders, and shrinks from her touch, as
+from a reptile. A look of scorn, and she turns from him, and is lost
+among the grotesque crowd in the distance.</p>
+
+<p>"This gin," says Mr. Fitzgerald, turning methodically to Brother Spyke,
+"they make do for food and clothing. We used to call this the devil's
+paradise. As to Krone, we used to call him the devil's bar-tender. These
+ragged revellers, you see, beg and steal during the day, and get gin
+with it at night. Krone thinks nothing of it! Lord bless your soul, sir!
+why, this man is reckoned a tip-top politician; on an emergency he can
+turn up such a lot of votes!" Mr. Fitzgerald, approaching Mr. Krone,
+says "you're a pretty fellow. Keeping such a place as this!" The
+detective playfully strikes the hat of the other, crowding it over his
+eyes, and inquiring if he has seen Tom Toddleworth during the day. Mr.
+Toddleworth was not seen during the day. No one in the bottomless pit
+knows where he may be found. A dozen husky voices are heard to say, he
+has no home&mdash;stores himself away anywhere, and may be found everywhere.</p>
+
+<p>Brother Spyke bows, and sighs. Mr. Fitzgerald says: "he is always
+harmless&mdash;this Toddleworth." As the two searchers are about to withdraw,
+the shrunken figure of a woman rushes wildly into the pit. "Devils!
+devils!&mdash;hideous devils of darkness! here you are&mdash;still
+hover&mdash;hover&mdash;hovering; turning midnight into revelling, day into horrid
+dreaming!" she shrieks at the top of her voice. Now she pauses suddenly,
+and with a demoniacal laugh sets her dull, glassy eyes on Mr. Krone,
+then walks round him with clenched fists and threatening gestures. The
+politician-maker sits unmoved. Now she throws her hair about her bare
+breasts, turns her eyes upward, imploringly, and approaches Brother
+Spyke, with hand extended. Her tale of sorrow and suffering is written
+in her very look. "She won't hurt you&mdash;never harms anybody;" says Mr.
+Fitzgerald, methodically, observing Brother Spyke's timidity.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, no," she mutters incoherently, "you are not of this place&mdash;you
+know, like the rich world up-town, little of these revelling devils.
+Cling! yes, cling to the wise one&mdash;tell him to keep you from this, and
+forever be your teacher. Tell him! tell him! oh! tell him!" She wrings
+her hands, and having sailed as it were into the further end of the pit,
+vaults back, and commences a series of wild gyrations round Mr. Krone.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor wretch!" says Brother Spyke, complacently, "the gin has dried up
+her senses&mdash;made her what she is."</p>
+
+<p>"Maniac Munday! Maniac Munday!" suddenly echoes and re-echoes through
+the pit. She turns her ear, and with a listless countenance listens
+attentively, then breaks out into an hysterical laugh. "Yes! ye
+loathsome denizens. Like me, no one seeks you, no one cares for you. I
+am poor, poor maniac Munday. The maniac that one fell error brought to
+this awful end." Again she lowers her voice, flings her hair back over
+her shoulders, and gives vent to her tears. Like one burdened with
+sorrow she commences humming an air, that even in this dark den floats
+sweetly through the polluted atmosphere. "Well, I am what I am," she
+sighs, having paused in her tune. "That one fatal step&mdash;that plighted
+faith! How bitter to look back." Her bony fingers wander to her lips,
+which she commences biting and fretting, as her countenance becomes pale
+and corpse-like. Again her reason takes its flight. She staggers to the
+drenched counter, holds forth her bottle, lays her last sixpence
+tauntingly upon the board, and watches with glassy eyes the drawing of
+the poisonous drug. Meanwhile Mr. Krone, with an imprecation, declares
+he has power to elect his candidate to the Senate. The man behind the
+counter&mdash;the man of savage face, has filled the maniac's bottle, which
+he pushes toward her with one hand, as with the other he sweeps her coin
+into a drawer. "Oh! save poor maniac Munday&mdash;save poor maniac Munday!"
+the woman cries, like one in despair, clutching the bottle, and reels
+out of the pit.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>IN WHICH IS PRESENTED ANOTHER PICTURE OF THE HOUSE OF THE NINE NATIONS.</p>
+
+
+<p>Pale and hesitating, Brother Spyke says: "I have no passion for delving
+into such places; and having seen enough for one night, am content to
+leave the search for this vile old man to you." The valiant missionary
+addresses Mr. Fitzgerald, who stands with one foot upon the rickety old
+steps that lead to the second story of the House of the Nine Nations.</p>
+
+<p>This morning, Brother Spyke was ready to do battle with the whole
+heathen world, to drag it up into light, to evangelize it. Now he quails
+before this heathen world, so terribly dark, at his own door.</p>
+
+<p>"You have, sir," says the detective, "seen nuthin' as yet. The sights
+are in these 'ere upper dens; but, I may say it, a body wants nerve.
+Some of our Aldermen say ye can't see such sights nowhere else."</p>
+
+<p>The missionary replies, holding tenaciously to his umbrella, "That may
+be true; but I fear they will be waiting me at home." Again he scans
+inquiringly into the drenched area of the Points; then bidding the
+officer good-night, is soon out of sight, on his way into Centre Street.
+Reaching the old stoop, the detective touches a spring, and the
+shattered door opens into a narrow, gloomy passage, along which he
+gropes his way, over a floor cobbled with filth, and against an
+atmosphere thick of disease. Now a faint light flashes through a crevice
+in the left wall, plays fantastically upon the black surface of the
+opposite, then dies away. The detective lights his lantern, stands a
+moment with his ear turned, as if listening to the revelry in the
+bottomless pit. A door opens to his touch, he enters a cave-like
+room&mdash;it is the one from out which the light stole so curiously, and in
+which all is misery and sadness. A few embers still burn in a great
+brick fireplace, shedding a lurid glow over the damp, filthy walls, the
+discolored ceiling, and the grotesque group upon the floor. "You needn't
+come at this time of night&mdash;we are all honest people;" speaks a massive
+negro, of savage visage, who (he is clothed in rags) sits at the left
+side of the fireplace. He coaxes the remnant of his fire to cook some
+coarse food he has placed in a small, black stew-pan, he watches with
+steady gaze. Three white females (we blush to say it), their bare,
+brawny arms resting on their knees, and their disfigured faces drooped
+into their hands, form an half circle on the opposite side.</p>
+
+<p>"The world don't think nothin' of us down here&mdash;we haven't had a bite to
+eat to-night," gruffly resumes the negro.</p>
+
+<p>"May them that have riches enjoy them, for to be supperless is no
+uncommon thing wid us," interrupts one of the women, gathering about her
+the shreds of her tattered garment, parting the matted hair over her
+face, and revealing her ghastly features. The detective turns his light
+full upon her. "If we live we live, if we die we die&mdash;nobody cares! Look
+you yonder, Mr. Fitzgerald," continues the negro, with a sarcastic leer.
+Turning his light to where the negro points, the detective casts a
+glance into the shadow, and there discovers the rags move. A dozen pair
+of glassy eyes are seen peering from out the filthy coverings, over
+which lean arms and blanched hands keep up an incessant motion. Here an
+emaciated and heart-sick Welsh girl, of thirteen (enciente) lays
+shivering on the broken floor; there an half-famished Scotch woman, two
+moaning children nestling at her heart, suffers uncovered upon a pallet
+of straw. The busy world without would seem not to have a care for her;
+the clergy have got the heathen world upon their shoulders. Hunger, like
+a grim tyrant, has driven her to seek shelter in this wretched abode.
+Despair has made her but too anxious that the grave or prison walls
+should close the record of her sorrows. How tightly she with her right
+hand presses her babe to her bosom; how appealingly with her left she
+asks a pittance of the detective! Will he not save from death her
+starving child? He has nothing to give her, turns his head, answers only
+with a look of pity, and moves slowly towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>"You have not been long off the Island, Washington?" inquires the
+detective, with an air of familiarity.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish," replies the negro, sullenly, "I was back. An honest man as I
+is, can't get on in this world. Necessity makes rascals of better men
+than me, Mr. Fitzgerald. Mr. Krone (he's a white man, though) makes all
+the politicians for the district, and charges me eight dollars a month
+for this hole. Just measure them two things together, Mr. Fitzgerald;
+then see if takin' in sixpenny, lodgers pays." Mr. Fitzgerald commences
+counting them. "You needn't count," pursues the negro, uncovering his
+stew-pan, "there's only eighteen in to-night. Have twenty, sometimes!
+Don't get nothin' for that poor Scotch woman an' her children. Can't
+get it when they hain't got it&mdash;you know that, Mr. Fitzgerald."</p>
+
+<p>The detective inquires if any of them have seen Mr. Toddleworth to-day.
+Washington has not seen him, and makes no scruple of saying he thinks
+very little of him.</p>
+
+<p>"Faith an' it's hard times with poor Tom," speaks up one of the women,
+in a deep brogue. "It was only last night&mdash;the same I'm tellin' is true,
+God knows&mdash;Mrs. McCarty took him to the Rookery&mdash;the divil a mouthful
+he'd ate durin' the day&mdash;and says, bein' a ginerous sort of body, come,
+take a drop, an' a bite to ate. Mister Toddleworth did that same, and
+thin lay the night on the floor. To-night&mdash;it's the truth, God
+knows&mdash;Tom Downey took him above. An' it's Tom who woundn't be the frind
+of the man who hadn't a shillin' in his pocket."</p>
+
+<p>The detective shrugs his shoulders, and having thanked the woman,
+withdraws into the passage, to the end of which he cautiously picks his
+way, and knocks at a distained door that fronts him. A voice deep and
+husky bids him enter, which he does, as the lurid glare of his lantern
+reveals a room some twelve by sixteen feet, the plaster hanging in
+festoons from the black walls, and so low of ceiling that he scarce can
+stand upright. Four bunk-beds, a little bureau, a broken chair or two,
+and a few cheap pictures, hung here and there on the sombre walls, give
+it an air of comfort in grateful contrast with the room just left. "Who
+lives here?" inquires the detective, turning his light full upon each
+object that attracts his attention. "Shure it's only me&mdash;Mrs. Terence
+Murphy&mdash;and my three sisters (the youngest is scarce fourteen), and the
+two English sisters: all honest people, God knows," replies Mrs. Murphy,
+with a rapid tongue.</p>
+
+<p>"It's not right of you to live this way," returns the detective,
+continuing to survey the prostrate forms of Mrs. Murphy, her three
+sisters, and the two fair-haired English girls, and the besotted beings
+they claim as husbands. Alarm is pictured in every countenance. A
+browned face withdraws under a dingy coverlid, an anxious face peers
+from out a pallet on the floor, a prostrate figure in the corner
+inquires the object of Mr. Detective Fitzgerald's visit&mdash;and Mrs.
+Murphy, holding it more becoming of respectable society, leaves the bed
+in which she had accommodated five others, and gets into one she calls
+her own. A second thought, and she makes up her mind not to get into
+bed, but to ask Mr. Fitzgerald if he will be good enough, when next he
+meets his Onher, the Mayor, just to say to him how Mr. Krone is bringing
+disgrace upon the house and every one in it, by letting rooms to
+negroes. Here she commences pouring out her pent-up wrath upon the head
+of Mr. Krone, and the colored gentleman, whom she declares has a dozen
+white females in his room every night. The detective encourages her by
+saying it is not right of Mr. Krone, who looks more at the color of his
+money than the skin of his tenants. "To come of a dacint family&mdash;and be
+brought to this!" says Mrs. Murphy, allowing her passion to rise, and
+swearing to have revenge of the negro in the next room.</p>
+
+<p>"You drink this gin, yet&mdash;I have warned you against it," interposes the
+detective, pointing to some bottles on the bureau. "Faith, an' it's the
+gin gets a many of us," returns the woman, curtly, as she gathers about
+her the skirts of her garments. "Onyhow, yerself wouldn't deprive us of
+a drop now and then, jist to keep up the spirits." The detective shakes
+his head, then discloses to them the object of his search, adding, in
+parenthesis, that he does not think Mr. Toddleworth is the thief. A
+dozen tongues are ready to confirm the detective's belief. "Not a
+shillin' of it did the poor crature take&mdash;indeed he didn't, now, Mr.
+Fitzgerald. 'Onor's 'onor, all over the wurld!" says Mrs. Murphy,
+grasping the detective by the hand. "Stay till I tell ye all about it.
+Mary Maguire&mdash;indeed an' ye knows her, Mr. Fitzgerald&mdash;this same
+afternoon looked in to say&mdash;'how do ye do, Mrs. Murphy. See this! Mrs.
+Murphy,' says she, 'an' the divil a sich a pocket of money I'd see
+before, as she held in her right hand, jist. 'Long life to ye, Mary,'
+says I. 'We'll have a pint, Mrs. Murphy,' says she. 'May ye niver want
+the worth of it,' says I. And the pint was not long in, when Mary got a
+little the worse of it, and let all out about the money. 'You won't
+whisper it, Mrs. Murphy,' says she, 'if I'd tell ye in confidence by
+what manes I got the lift?'"</p>
+
+<p>"'Not in the wide world, Mary,' says I; 'ye may trust me for that same.'
+'Shure didn't I raise it from the pocket of an auld woman in spectacles,
+that watched the fool beyant dig up the corporation.' 'An' it'll not do
+yerself much good,' says I, liftin' the same, and cuttin' away to the
+house. 'You won't whisper it?' says she."</p>
+
+<p>"I can confirm the truth of that same," rejoins a brusque-figured man,
+rising from his pallet, and speaking with regained confidence. "Mary
+looked in at the Blazers, and being the worse of liquor, showed a dale
+of ready money, and trated everybody, and gave the money to everybody,
+and was wilcome wid everybody. Then Mrs. McCarty got aboard of her
+ginerosity, and got her into the Rookery, where the Miss McCartys
+thought it would not be amiss to have a quart. The same was brought in,
+and Mary hersel' was soon like a dead woman on the floor, jist&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And they got the money all away?" interrupts the detective.</p>
+
+<p>"Faith, an' she'll not have a blessed dollar come daylight," continues
+the man, resuming his pallet.</p>
+
+<p>The detective bids Mrs. Murphy good night, and is soon groping his way
+over a rickety old floor, along a dark, narrow passage, scarce high
+enough to admit him, and running at right angles with the first. A door
+on the left opens into a grotto-like place, the sickly atmosphere of
+which seems hurling its poison into the very blood. "Who's here?"
+inquires the detective, and a voice, feeble and hollow, responds:
+"Lodgers!"</p>
+
+<p>The damp, greasy walls; the broken ceilings; the sooty fireplace, with
+its shattered bricks; the decayed wainscoating&mdash;its dark, forlorn
+aspect, all bespeak it the fit abode of rats. And yet Mr. Krone thinks
+it comfortable enough (the authorities think Mr. Krone the best judge)
+for the accommodation of thirteen remnants of human misery, all of whom
+are here huddled together on the wet, broken floor, borrowing warmth of
+one another. The detective's light falls curiously upon the dread
+picture, which he stands contemplating. A pale, sickly girl, of some
+eleven summers, her hair falling wildly over her wan features, lays upon
+some rags near the fireplace, clinging to an inebriated mother. Here a
+father, heart-sick and prostrate with disease, seeks to keep warm his
+three ragged children, nestling about him. An homeless outcast,
+necessity forces him to send them out to prey upon the community by day,
+and to seek in this wretched hovel a shelter at night. Yonder the rags
+are thrown back, a moving mass is disclosed, and there protrudes a
+disfigured face, made ghostly by the shadow of the detective's lantern.
+At the detective's feet a prostrate girl, insensible of gin, is seized
+with convulsions, clutches with wasted hands at the few rags about her
+poor, flabby body, then with fingers grasping, and teeth firmly set, her
+whole frame writhes in agony. Your missionary never whispered a kind,
+encouraging word in her ear; his hand never pressed that blanched bone
+with which she now saddens your heart! Different might it have been with
+her had some gentle-tongued Brother Spyke sought her out, bore patiently
+with her waywardness, snatched her from this life of shame, and placed
+her high in an atmosphere of light and love.</p>
+
+<p>It is here, gentle shepherds, the benighted stand most in need of your
+labors. Seek not to evangelize the Mahomedan world until you have worked
+a reform here; and when you have done it, a monument in heaven will be
+your reward.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Toddleworth is not here," says the detective, withdrawing into the
+passage, then ascending a broken and steep stairs that lead into the
+third story. Nine shivering forms crouched in one dismal room; four
+squabbish women, and three besotted men in another; and in a third, nine
+ragged boys and two small girls&mdash;such are the scenes of squalid misery
+presented here. In a little front room, Mr. Tom Downey, his wife, and
+eight children, lay together upon the floor, half covered with rags. Mr.
+Downey startles at the appearance of the detective, rises nervously from
+his pallet, and after the pause of a moment, says: "Indeed, yer welcome,
+Mr. Fitzgerald. Indeed, I have not&mdash;an' God knows it's the truth I
+tell&mdash;seen Mr. Toddleworth the week;" he replies, in answer to a
+question from the detective.</p>
+
+<p>"You took a drop with him this afternoon?" continues the detective,
+observing his nervousness.</p>
+
+<p>"God knows it's a mistake, Mr. Fitzgerald." Mr. Downey changes the
+subject, by saying the foreigners in the garret are a great nuisance,
+and disturb him of his rest at night.</p>
+
+<p>A small, crooked stair leads into "Organ-grinders' Roost," in the
+garret. To "Organ-grinders' Roost" the detective ascends. If, reader,
+you have ever pictured in your mind the cave of despair, peopled by
+beings human only in shape, you may form a faint idea of the
+wretchedness presented in "Organ-grinders' Roost," at the top of the
+house of the Nine Nations. Seven stalworth men shoot out from among a
+mass of rags on the floor, and with dark, wandering eyes, and massive,
+uncombed beards, commence in their native Italian a series of
+interrogatories, not one of which the detective can understand. They
+would inquire for whom he seeks at this strange hour. He (the detective)
+stands unmoved, as with savage gesture&mdash;he has discovered his star&mdash;they
+tell him they are famishing of hunger. A pretty black-eyed girl, to
+whose pale, but beautifully oval face an expression of sorrow lends a
+touching softness, lays on the bare floor, beside a mother of
+patriarchal aspect. Now she is seized with a sharp cough that brings
+blood at every paroxysm. As if forgetting herself, she lays her hand
+gently upon the cheek of her mother, anxious to comfort her. Ah! the
+hard hand of poverty has been upon her through life, and stubbornly
+refuses to relax its grip, even in her old age. An organ forms here and
+there a division between the sleepers; two grave-visaged monkeys sit
+chattering in the fireplace, then crouch down on the few charred sticks.
+A picture of the crucifix is seen conspicuous over the dingy fireplace,
+while from the slanting roof hang several leathern girdles. Oh, what a
+struggle for life is their's! Mothers, fathers, daughters, and little
+children, thus promiscuously grouped, and coming up in neglect and
+shame. There an old man, whom remorseless death is just calling into
+eternity, with dull, glassy eyes, white, flowing beard, bald head,
+sunken mouth, begrimed and deeply-wrinkled face, rises, spectre-like,
+from his pallet. Now he draws from his breast a small crucifix, and
+commences muttering to it in a guttural voice. "Peace, peace, good old
+man&mdash;the holy father will come soon&mdash;the holy virgin will come soon: he
+will receive the good spirit to his bosom," says a black-eyed daughter,
+patting him gently upon the head, then looking in his face solicitously,
+as he turns his eyes upward, and for a few moments seems invoking the
+mercy of the Allwise. "Yes, father," she resumes, lightening up the mat
+of straw upon which he lays, "the world has been unkind to you, but you
+are passing from it to a better&mdash;you will be at peace soon."</p>
+
+<p>"Soon, soon, soon," mumbles the old man, in a whisper; and having
+carefully returned the crucifix to his bosom, grasps fervently the hand
+of the girl and kisses it, as her eyes swim in tears.</p>
+
+<p>Such, to the shame of those who live in princely palaces, and revel in
+luxury, are but faintly-drawn pictures of what may be seen in the house
+of the Nine Nations.</p>
+
+<p>The detective is about to give up the search, and turns to descend the
+stairs, when suddenly he discerns a passage leading to the north end of
+the garret. Here, in a little closet-like room, on the right, the rats
+his only companions, lies the prostrate form of poor Toddleworth.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I persevered till I found you," says the detective, turning his
+light full upon the body. Another minute, and his features become as
+marble; he stands aghast, and his whole frame seems struggling under the
+effect of some violent shock. "What, what, what!" he shouts, in nervous
+accents, "Murder! murder! murder! some one has murdered him." Motionless
+the form lies, the shadow of the light revealing the ghastly spectacle.
+The head lies in a pool of blood, the bedimmed eyes, having taken their
+last look, remain fixedly set on the black roof. "He has died of a
+blow&mdash;of a broken skull!" says the frightened official, feeling, and
+feeling, and pressing the arms and hands that are fast becoming rigid.
+Life is gone out; a pauper's grave will soon close over what remains of
+this wretched outcast. The detective hastens down stairs, spreads the
+alarm over the neighborhood, and soon the House of the Nine Nations is
+the scene of great excitement.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXIX.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>IN WHICH MAY BE SEEN A FEW OF OUR COMMON EVILS.</p>
+
+
+<p>Leaving for a time the scenes in the House of the Nine Nations, let us
+return to Charleston, that we may see how matters appertaining to this
+history are progressing. Mr. Snivel is a popular candidate for the
+Senate of South Carolina; and having shot his man down in the street,
+the question of his fighting abilities we regard as honorably settled.
+Madame Montford, too, has by him been kept in a state of nervous
+anxiety, for he has not yet found time to search in the "Poor-house for
+the woman Munday." All our very first, and best-known families, have
+dropped Madame, who is become a wet sheet on the fashionable world. A
+select committee of the St. Cecilia has twice considered her expulsion,
+while numerous very respectable and equally active old ladies have been
+shaking their scandal-bags at her head. Sins have been laid at her door
+that would indeed damage a reputation with a fairer endorsement than New
+York can give.</p>
+
+<p>Our city at this moment is warmed into a singular state of excitement. A
+Georgia editor (we regard editors as belonging to a very windy class of
+men), not having the mightiness of our chivalry before him, said the
+Union would have peace if South Carolina were shut up in a penitentiary.
+And for this we have invited the indiscreet gentleman to step over the
+border, that we may hang him, being extremely fond of such common-place
+amusements. What the facetious fellow meant was, that our own State
+would enjoy peace and prosperity were our mob-politicians all in the
+penitentiary. And with this sensible opinion we heartily agree.</p>
+
+<p>We regard our state of civilization as extremely enviable. To-day we
+made a lion of the notorious Hines, the forger. Hines, fashioning after
+our hapless chivalry, boasts that South Carolina is his State&mdash;his
+political mother. He has, nevertheless, graced with his presence no few
+penitentiaries. We feasted him in that same prison where we degrade and
+starve the honest poor; we knew him guilty of an heinous crime&mdash;yet we
+carried him jubilantly to the "halls of justice." And while
+distinguished lawyers tendered their services to the "clever villain,"
+you might have witnessed in sorrow a mock trial, and heard a mob
+sanction with its acclamations his release.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, truth and justice! how feeble is thy existence where the god slavery
+reigns. And while men are heard sounding the praises of this highwayman
+at the street corners, extolling men who have shot down their fellow-men
+in the streets, and calling those "Hon. gentlemen," who have in the most
+cowardly manner assassinated their opponents, let us turn to a different
+picture. Two genteely-dressed men are seen entering the old, jail. "I
+have twice promised them a happy surprise," says one, whose pale,
+studious features, wear an expression of gentleness. The face of the
+other is somewhat florid, but beaming with warmth of heart. They enter,
+having passed up one of the long halls, a room looking into the
+prison-yard. Several weary-faced prisoners are seated round a deal
+table, playing cards; among them is the old sailor described in the
+early part of this history. "You don't know my friend, here?" says the
+young man of the studious face, addressing the prisoners, and pointing
+to his companion. The prisoners look inquiringly at the stranger, then
+shake their heads in response.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you don't know me: you never knew me when I was a man," speaks the
+stranger, raising his hat, as a smile lights up his features. "You don't
+know Tom Swiggs, the miserable inebriate&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>A spontaneous shout of recognition, echoing and reechoing through the
+old halls, interrupts this declaration. One by one the imprisoned men
+grasp him by the hand, and shower upon him the warmest, the heartiest
+congratulations. A once fallen brother has risen to a knowledge of his
+own happiness. Hands that raised him from that mat of straw, when the
+mental man seemed lost, now welcome him restored, a purer being.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, Spunyarn," says Tom, greeting the old sailor with childlike
+fondness, as the tears are seen gushing into the eyes, and coursing down
+the browned face of the old mariner, "I owe you a debt I fear I never
+can pay. I have thought of you in my absence, and had hoped on my return
+to see you released. I am sorry you are not&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, as to that," interrupts the old sailor, his face resuming its
+wonted calm, "I can't&mdash;you know I can't, Tom,&mdash;sail without a clearance.
+I sometimes think I'm never going to get one. Two years, as you know,
+I've been here, now backing and then filling, in and out, just as it
+suits that chap with the face like a snatch-block. They call him a
+justice. 'Pon my soul, Tom, I begin to think justice for us poor folks
+is got aground. Well, give us your hand agin' (he seizes Tom by the
+hand); its all well wi' you, anyhows.'</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, thank God," says Tom, returning his friendly shake, "I have
+conquered the enemy, and my thanks for it are due to those who reached
+my heart with kind words, and gave me a brother's hand. I was not dead
+to my own degradation; but imprisonment left me no hope. The sting of
+disappointment may pain your feelings; hope deferred may torture you
+here in a prison; the persecutions of enemies may madden your very soul;
+but when a mother turns coldly from you&mdash;No, I will not say it, for I
+love her still&mdash;" he hesitates, as the old sailor says, with touching
+simplicity, he never knew what it was to have a mother or father. Having
+spread before the old man and his companions sundry refreshments he had
+ordered brought in, and received in return their thanks, he inquires of
+Spunyarn how it happened that he got into prison, and how it is that he
+remains here a fixture.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you, Tom," says the old sailor, commencing his story. "We'd
+just come ashore&mdash;had a rough passage&mdash;and, says I to myself, here's lay
+up ashore awhile. So I gets a crimp, who takes me to a crib. 'It's all
+right here&mdash;you'll have snug quarters, Jack,' says he, introducing me to
+the chap who kept it. I gives him twenty dollars on stack, and gets up
+my chest and hammock, thinking it was all fair and square. Then I meets
+an old shipmate, who I took in tow, he being hard ashore for cash. 'Let
+us top the meetin' with a glass,' says I. 'Agreed,' says Bill, and I
+calls her on, the very best. 'Ten cents a glass,' says the fellow behind
+the counter, giving us stuff that burnt as it went. 'Mister,' says I,
+'do ye want to poison a sailor?' 'If you no like him,' says he, 'go get
+better somewhere else.' I told him to give me back the twenty, and me
+dunnage.</p>
+
+<p>"'You don't get him&mdash;clear out of mine 'ouse,' says he.</p>
+
+<p>"'Under the peak,' says I, fetching him a but under the lug that beached
+him among his beer-barrels. He picked himself up, and began talking
+about a magistrate. And knowing what sort of navigation a fellow'd have
+in the hands of that sort of land-craft, I began to think about laying
+my course for another port. 'Hold on here,' says a big-sided
+land-lubber, seizing me by the fore-sheets. 'Cast off there,' says I,
+'or I'll put ye on yer beam-ends.'</p>
+
+<p>"'I'm a constable,' says he, pulling out a pair of irons he said must go
+on my hands."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope he did not put them on," interrupts the young theologian, for it
+is he who accompanies Tom.</p>
+
+<p>"Avast! I'll come to that. He said he'd only charge me five dollars for
+going to jail without 'em, so rather than have me calling damaged, I giv
+him it. It was only a trifle. 'Now, Jack,' says the fellow, as we went
+along, in a friendly sort of way, 'just let us pop in and see the
+justice. I think a ten 'll get ye a clearance.' 'No objection to that,'
+says I, and in we went, and there sat the justice, face as long and
+sharp as a marlinspike, in a dirty old hole, that looked like our
+forecastle. 'Bad affair this, Jack,' says he, looking up over his
+spectacles. 'You must be locked up for a year and a day, Jack.'</p>
+
+<p>"'You'll give a sailor a hearin', won't ye?' says I. 'As to that,&mdash;well,
+I don't know, Jack; you musn't break the laws of South Carolina when you
+get ashore. You seem like a desirable sailor, and can no doubt get a
+ship and good wages&mdash;this is a bad affair. However, as I'm not inclined
+to be hard, if you are disposed to pay twenty dollars, you can go.' 'Law
+and justice,' says I, shaking my fist at him&mdash;'do ye take this
+salt-water citizen for a fool?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Take him away, Mr. Stubble&mdash;lock him up!&mdash;lock him up!' says the
+justice, and here I am, locked up, hard up, hoping. I'd been tied up
+about three weeks when the justice looked in one day, and after
+inquiring for me, and saying, 'good morning, Jack,' and seeming a little
+by the head: 'about this affair of yourn, Jack,' says he, 'now, if
+you'll mind your eye when you get out&mdash;my trouble's worth ten
+dollars&mdash;and pay me, I'll discharge you, and charge the costs to the
+State.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Charge the cost to the State!' says I. 'Do you take Spunyarn for a
+marine?' At this he hauled his wind, and stood out."</p>
+
+<p>"You have had a hearing before the Grand Jury, have you not?" inquires
+Tom, evincing a deep interest in the story of his old friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Not I. This South Carolina justice is a hard old craft to sail in. The
+Grand Jury only looks in once every six months, and then looks out
+again, without inquiring who's here. And just before the time it comes
+round, I'm shuffled out, and just after it has left, I'm shuffled in
+again&mdash;fees charged to the State! That's it. So here I am, a fee-making
+machine, bobbing in and out of jail to suit the conveniences of Mister
+Justice. I don't say this with any ill will&mdash;I don't." Having concluded
+his story, the old sailor follows his visitors to the prison gate, takes
+an affectionate leave of Tom Swiggs, and returns to join his companions.
+On the following day, Tom intercedes with Mr. Snivel, for it is he who
+thus harvests fees of the State by retaining the old sailor in prison,
+and procures his release. And here, in Mr. Snivel, you have an
+instrument of that debased magistracy which triumphs over the weak, that
+sits in ignorance and indolence, that invests the hypocritical designer
+with a power almost absolute, that keeps justice muzzled on her
+throne&mdash;the natural offspring of that demon-making institution that
+scruples not to brunt the intellect of millions, while dragging a pall
+of sloth over the land.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXX.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>CONTAINING VARIOUS THINGS APPERTAINING TO THIS HISTORY.</p>
+
+
+<p>Maria McArthur having, by her womanly sympathy, awakened the generous
+impulses of Tom Swiggs, he is resolved they shall have a new channel for
+their action. Her kindness touched his heart; her solicitude for his
+welfare gained his affections, and a recognition of that love she so
+long and silently cherished for him, is the natural result. The heart
+that does not move to woman's kindness, must indeed be hard. But there
+were other things which strengthened Tom's affections for Maria. The
+poverty of her aged father; the insults offered her by Keepum and
+Snivel; the manner in which they sought her ruin while harassing her
+father; the artlessness and lone condition of the pure-minded girl; and
+the almost holy affection evinced for the old man on whom she doted&mdash;all
+tended to bring him nearer and nearer to her, until he irresistibly
+found himself at her feet, pledging that faith lovers call eternal.
+Maria is not of that species of being the world calls beautiful; but
+there is about her something pure, thoughtful, even noble; and this her
+lone condition heightens. Love does not always bow before beauty. The
+singularities of human nature are most strikingly blended in woman. She
+can overcome physical defects; she can cultivate attractions most
+appreciated by those who study her worth deepest. Have you not seen
+those whose charms at first-sight found no place in your thoughts, but
+as you were drawn nearer and nearer to them, so also did your esteem
+quicken, and that esteem, almost unconsciously, you found ripening into
+affection, until in turn you were seized with an ardent passion? You
+have. And you have found yourself enamored of the very one against whom
+you had endeavored most to restrain your generous impulses. Like the
+fine lines upon a picture with a repulsive design, you trace them, and
+recur to them until your admiration is carried away captive. So it is
+with woman's charms. Tom Swiggs, then, the restored man, bows before the
+simple goodness of the daughter of the old Antiquary.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Trueman, the shipowner, gave Tom employment, and has proved a friend
+to him. Tom, in turn, has so far gained his confidence and respect that
+Mr. Trueman contemplates sending him to London, on board one of his
+ships. Nor has Tom forgotten to repay the old Antiquary, who gave him a
+shelter when he was homeless; this home is still under the roof of the
+old man, toward whose comfort he contributes weekly a portion of his
+earnings. If you could but look into that little back-parlor, you would
+see a picture of humble cheerfulness presented in the old man, his
+daughter, and Tom Swiggs, seated round the tea-table. Let us, however,
+turn and look into one of our gaudy saloons, that we may see how
+different a picture is presented there.</p>
+
+<p>It is the night previous to an election for Mayor. Leaden clouds hang
+threatening over the city; the gas-light throws out its shadows at an
+early hour; and loud-talking men throng our street-corners and public
+resorts. Our politicians tell us that the destiny of the rich and the
+poor is to forever guard that institution which employs all our
+passions, and absorbs all our energies.</p>
+
+<p>In a curtained box, at the St. Charles, sits Mr. Snivel and George
+Mullholland&mdash;the latter careworn and downcast of countenance. "Let us
+finish this champaign, my good fellow," says the politician, emptying
+his glass. "A man&mdash;I mean one who wants to get up in the world&mdash;must,
+like me, have two distinct natures. He must have a grave, moral
+nature&mdash;that is necessary to the affairs of State. And he must, to
+accommodate himself to the world (law and society, I mean), have a
+terribly loose nature&mdash;a perfect quicksand, into which he can drag
+everything that serves himself. You have seen how I can develop both
+these, eh?" The downcast man shakes his head, as the politician watches
+him with a steady gaze. "Take the advice of a friend, now, let the Judge
+alone&mdash;don't threaten again to shoot that girl. Threats are sometimes
+dragged in as testimony against a man (Mr. Snivel taps George
+admonishingly on the arm); and should anything of a serious nature
+befall her&mdash;the law is curious&mdash;why, what you have said might implicate
+you, though you were innocent."</p>
+
+<p>"You," interrupts George, "have shot your man down in the street."</p>
+
+<p>"A very different affair, George. My position in society protects me. I
+am a member of the Jockey-Club, a candidate for the State Senate&mdash;a
+Justice of the Peace&mdash;yes, a politician! You are&mdash;Well, I was going to
+say&mdash;nothing! We regard northerners as enemies; socially, they are
+nothing. Come, George, come with me. I am your best friend. You shall
+see the power in my hands." The two men saunter out together, pass up a
+narrow lane leading from King Street, and are soon groping their way up
+the dark stairway of an old, neglected-looking wooden building, that for
+several years has remained deserted by everything but rats and
+politicians,&mdash;one seeming to gnaw away at the bowels of the nation, the
+other at the bowels of the old building. Having ascended to the second
+floor, Mr. Snivel touches a spring, a suspicious little trap opens, and
+two bright eyes peer out, as a low, whispering voice inquires, "Who's
+there?" Mr. Snivel has exchanged the countersign, and with his companion
+is admitted into a dark vestibule, in which sits a brawny guardsman.</p>
+
+<p>"Cribs are necessary, sir&mdash;I suppose you never looked into one before?"</p>
+
+<p>George, in a voice discovering timidity, says he never has.</p>
+
+<p>"You must have cribs, and crib-voters; they are necessary to get into
+high office&mdash;indeed, I may say, to keep up with the political spirit of
+the age." Mr. Snivel is interrupted by the deep, coarse voice of Milman
+Mingle, the vote-cribber, whose broad, savage face looks out at a small
+guard trap. "All right," he says, recognizing Mr. Snivel. Another
+minute, and a door opens into a long, sombre-looking room, redolent of
+the fumes of whiskey and tobacco. "The day is ours. We'll elect our
+candidate, and then my election is certain; naturalized thirteen rather
+green ones to-day&mdash;to-morrow they will be trump cards. Stubbs has
+attended to the little matter of the ballot-boxes." Mr. Snivel gives the
+vote-cribber's hand a warm shake, and turns to introduce his friend. The
+vote-cribber has seen him before. "There are thirteen in," he says, and
+two more he has in his eye, and will have in to-night, having sent
+trappers out for them.</p>
+
+<p>Cold meats, bread, cheese, and crackers, and a bountiful supply of bad
+whiskey, are spread over a table in the centre of the room; while the
+pale light of two small lamps, suspended from the ceiling, throws a
+curious shadow over the repulsive features of thirteen forlorn, ragged,
+and half-drunken men, sitting here and there round the room, on wooden
+benches. You see ignorance and cruelty written in their very
+countenances. For nearly three weeks they have not scented the air of
+heaven, but have been held here in a despicable bondage. Ragged and
+filthy, like Falstaff's invincibles, they will be marched to the polls
+to-morrow, and cast their votes at the bid of the cribber. "A happy lot
+of fellows," says Mr. Snivel, exultingly. "I have a passion for this
+sort of business&mdash;am general supervisor of all these cribs, you
+understand. We have several of them. Some of these 'drifts' we kidnap,
+and some come and be locked up of their own accord&mdash;merely for the feed
+and drink. We use them, and then snuff them out until we want them
+again." Having turned from George, and complimented the vote-cribber for
+his skill, he bids him good-night. Together George and the politician
+wend their way to an obscure part of the city, and having passed up two
+flight of winding stairs, into a large, old-fashioned house on the Neck,
+are in a sort of barrack-room, fitted up with bunks and benches, and
+filled with a grotesque assembly, making night jubilant&mdash;eating,
+drinking, smoking, and singing. "A jolly set of fellows," says Mr.
+Snivel, with an expression of satisfaction. "This is a decoy crib&mdash;the
+vagabonds all belong to the party of our opponents, but don't know it.
+We work in this way: we catch them&mdash;they are mostly foreigners&mdash;lock
+them up, give them good food and drink, and make them&mdash;not the half can
+speak our language&mdash;believe we belong to the same party. They yield, as
+submissive as curs. To morrow, we&mdash;this is in confidence&mdash;drug them all,
+send them into a fast sleep, in which we keep them till the polls are
+closed, then, not wanting them longer, we kick them out for a set of
+drunkards. Dangerous sort of cribbing, this. I let you into the secret
+out of pure friendship." Mr. Snivel pauses. George has at heart
+something of deeper interest to him than votes and vote-cribbers. But
+why, he says to himself, does Mr. Snivel evince this anxiety to befriend
+me? This question is answered by Mr. Snivel inviting him to take a look
+into the Keno den.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXI.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>THE KENO DEN, AND WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN IT.</p>
+
+
+<p>The clock has just struck twelve. Mr. Snivel and George, passing from
+the scenes of our last chapter, enter a Keno den,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> situated on Meeting
+street. "You must get money, George. Here you are nothing without money.
+Take this, try your hand, make your genius serve you." Mr. Snivel puts
+twenty dollars into George's hand. They are in a room some twenty by
+thirty feet in dimensions, dimly-lighted. Standing here and there are
+gambling tables, around which are seated numerous mechanics, losing, and
+being defrauded of that for which they have labored hard during the
+week. Hope, anxiety, and even desperation is pictured on the
+countenances of the players. Maddened and disappointed, one young man
+rises from a table, at which sits a craven-faced man sweeping the
+winnings into his pile, and with profane tongue, says he has lost his
+all. Another, with flushed face and bloodshot eyes, declares it the
+sixth time he has lost his earnings here. A third reels confusedly about
+the room, says a mechanic is but a dog in South Carolina; and the sooner
+he comes to a dog's end the better.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel points George to a table, at which he is soon seated.
+"Blank&mdash;blank&mdash;blank!" he reiterates, as the numbers turn up, and one by
+one the moody bank-keeper sweeps the money into his fast-increasing
+heap. "Cursed fate!&mdash;it is against me," mutters the forlorn man.
+"Another gone, and yet another! How this deluding, this fascinating
+money tortures me." With hectic face and agitated nerve, he puts down
+his last dollar. "Luck's mysterious!" exclaims Mr. Snivel, looking on
+unmoved, as the man of the moody face declares a blank, and again sweeps
+the money into his heap. "Gone!" says George, "all's gone now." He rises
+from his seat, in despair.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't get frantic, George&mdash;be a philosopher&mdash;try again&mdash;here's a ten.
+Luck 'll turn," says Mr. Snivel, patting the deluded man familiarly on
+the shoulder, as he resumes his seat. "Will poverty never cease
+torturing me? I have tried to be a man, an honest man, a respectable
+man. And yet, here I am, again cast upon a gambler's sea, struggling
+with its fearful tempests. How cold, how stone-like the faces around
+me!" he muses, watching with death-like gaze each number as it turns up.
+Again he has staked his last dollar; again fortune frowns upon him. Like
+a furnace of livid flame, the excitement seems burning up his brain. "I
+am a fool again," he says, throwing the blank number contemptuously upon
+the table. "Take it&mdash;take it, speechless, imperturbable man! Rake it
+into your pile, for my eyes are dim, and my fortune I must seek
+elsewhere."</p>
+
+<p>A noise at the door, as of some one in distress, is heard, and there
+rushes frantically into the den a pale, dejected-looking woman, bearing
+in her arms a sick and emaciated babe. "Oh, William! William!&mdash;has it
+come to this?" she shrieks, casting a wild glance round the den, until,
+with a dark, sad expression, her eye falls upon the object of her
+search. It is her husband, once a happy mechanic. Enticed by degrees
+into this den of ruin, becoming fascinated with its games of chance, he
+is how an <i>habitue</i>. To-night he left his suffering family, lost his all
+here, and now, having drank to relieve his feelings, lies insensible on
+the floor. "Come home!&mdash;come home! for God's sake come home to your
+suffering family," cries the woman, vaulting to him and taking him by
+the hand, her hair floating dishevelled down her shoulders. "I sent
+Tommy into the street to beg&mdash;I am ashamed&mdash;and he is picked up by the
+watch for a thief, a vagrant!" The prostrate man remains insensible to
+her appeal. Two policemen, who have been quietly neglecting their duties
+while taking a few chances, sit unmoved. Mr. Snivel thinks the woman
+better be removed. "Our half-starved mechanics," he says, "are a depraved
+set; and these wives they bring with them from the North are a sort of
+cross between a lean stage-driver and a wildcat. She seems a poor,
+destitute creature&mdash;just what they all come to, out here." Mr. Snivel
+shrugs his shoulders, bids George good night, and takes his departure.
+"Take care of yourself, George," he says admonitiously, as the destitute
+man watches him take his leave. The woman, frantic at the coldness and
+apathy manifested for her distress, lays her babe hurriedly upon the
+floor, and with passion and despair darting from her very eyes, makes a
+lunge across the keno table at the man who sits stoically at the bank.
+In an instant everything is turned into uproar and confusion. Glasses,
+chairs, and tables, are hurled about the floor; shriek follows
+shriek&mdash;"help! pity me! murder!" rises above the confusion, the watch
+without sound the alarm, and the watch within suddenly become conscious
+of their duty. In the midst of all the confusion, a voice cries out:
+"My pocket book&mdash;my pocket book!&mdash;I have been robbed." A light flashes
+from a guardsman's lantern, and George Mullholland is discovered with
+the forlorn woman in his arms&mdash;she clings tenaciously to her
+babe&mdash;rushing into the street.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXII.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>WHICH A STATE OF SOCIETY IS SLIGHTLY REVEALED.</p>
+
+
+<p>A week has rolled into the past since the event at the Keno den.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Montford, pale, thoughtful, and abstracted, sits musing in her
+parlor. "Between this hope and fear&mdash;this remorse of conscience, this
+struggle to overcome the suspicions of society, I have no peace. I am
+weary of this slandering&mdash;this unforgiving world. And yet it is my own
+conscience that refuses to forgive me. Go where I will I see the cold
+finger of scorn pointed at me: I read in every countenance, 'Madame
+Montford, you have wronged some one&mdash;your guilty conscience betrays
+you!' I have sought to atone for my error&mdash;to render justice to one my
+heart tells me I have wronged, yet I cannot shake off the dread burden;
+and there seems rest for me only in the grave. Ah! there it is. The one
+error of my life, and the moans used to conceal it, may have brought
+misery upon more heads than one." She lays her hand upon her heart, and
+shakes her head sorrowfully. "Yes! something like a death-knell rings in
+my ears&mdash;'more than one have you sent, unhappy, to the grave.' Rejected
+by the one I fancy my own; my very touch, scorned; my motives
+misconstrued&mdash;all, perhaps, by&mdash;a doubt yet hangs between us&mdash;an
+abandoned stranger. Duty to my conscience has driven me to acts that
+have betrayed me to society. I cannot shake my guilt from me even for a
+day; and now society coldly cancels all my claims to its attentions. If
+I could believe her dead; if I but knew this girl was not the object of
+all my heart's unrest, then the wearying doubt would be buried, and my
+heart might find peace in some remote corner of the earth. Well,
+well&mdash;perhaps I am wasting all this torture on an unworthy object. I
+should have thought of this sooner, for now foul slander is upon every
+tongue, and my misery is made thrice painful by my old flatterers. I
+will make one more effort, then if I fail of getting a certain clue to
+her, I will remove to some foreign country, shake off these haunting
+dreams, and be no longer a victim to my own thoughts." Somewhat
+relieved, Madame is roused from her reverie by a gentle tap at the door.
+"I have waited your coming, and am glad to see you," she says, extending
+her hand, as a servant, in response to her command, ushers into her
+presence no less a person than Tom Swiggs. "I have sent for you," she
+resumes, motioning him gracefully to a chair, in which she begs he will
+be seated, "because I feel I can confide in you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Anything in my power is at your service, Madame," modestly interposes
+Tom, regaining confidence.</p>
+
+<p>"I entrusted something of much importance to me, to Mr. Snivel&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"We call him the Hon. Mr. Snivel now, since he has got to be a great
+politician," interrupts Tom.</p>
+
+<p>"And he not only betrayed my Confidence," pursues Madame Montford, "but
+retains the amount I paid him, and forgets to render the promised
+service. You, I am told, can render me a service&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"As for Mr. Snivel," pursues Tom, hastily, "he has of late had his hands
+full, getting a poor but good-natured fellow, by the name of George
+Mullholland, into trouble. His friend, Judge Sleepyhorn, and he, have
+for some time had a plot on hand to crush this poor fellow. A few nights
+ago Snivel drove him mad at a gambling den, and in his desperation he
+robbed a man of his pocket-book. He shared the money with a poor woman
+he rescued at the den, and that is the way it was discovered that he was
+the criminal. He is a poor, thoughtless man, and he has been goaded on
+from one thing to another, until he was driven to commit this act.
+First, his wife was got away from him&mdash;" Tom pauses and blushes, as
+Madame Montford says: "His wife was got away from him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Madame," returns Tom, with an expression of sincerity, "The Judge
+got her away from him; and this morning he was arraigned before that
+same Judge for examination, and Mr. Snivel was a principal witness, and
+there was enough found against him to commit him for trial at the
+Sessions." Discovering that this information is exciting her emotions,
+Tom pauses, and contemplates her with steady gaze. She desires he will
+be her guide to the Poor-House, and there assist her in searching for
+Mag Munday, whom, report says, is confined in a cell. Tom having
+expressed his readiness to serve her, they are soon on their way to that
+establishment.</p>
+
+<p>A low, squatty building, with a red, moss-covered roof, two lean
+chimneys peeping out, the windows blockaded with dirt, and situated in
+one of the by-lanes of the city, is our Poor-House, standing half hid
+behind a crabbed old wall, and looking very like a much-neglected
+Quaker church in vegetation. We boast much of our institutions, and
+this being a sample of them, we hold it in great reverence. You may say
+that nothing so forcibly illustrates a state of society as the character
+of its institutions for the care of those unfortunate beings whom a
+capricious nature has deprived of their reason. We agree with you. We
+see our Poor-House crumbling to the ground with decay, yet imagine it,
+or affect to imagine it, a very grand edifice, in every way suited to
+the wants of such rough ends of humanity as are found in it. Like Satan,
+we are brilliant believers in ourselves, not bad sophists, and
+singularly clever in finding apologies for all great crimes.</p>
+
+<p>At the door of the Poor-House stands a dilapidated hearse, to which an
+old gray horse is attached. A number of buzzards have gathered about
+him, turn their heads suspiciously now and then, and seem meditating a
+descent upon his bones at no very distant day. Madame casts a glance at
+the hearse, and the poor old horse, and the cawing buzzards, then
+follows Tom, timidly, to the door. He has rung the bell, and soon there
+stands before them, in the damp doorway, a fussy old man, with a very
+broad, red face, and a very blunt nose, and two very dull, gray eyes,
+which he fortifies with a fair of massive-framed spectacles, that have a
+passion for getting upon the tip-end of his broad blunt nose.</p>
+
+<p>"There, you want to see somebody! Always somebody wanted to be seen,
+when we have dead folks to get rid of," mutters the old man,
+querulously, then looking inquiringly at the visitors. Tom says they
+would like to go over the premises. "Yes&mdash;know you would. Ain't so dull
+but I can see what folks want when they look in here." The old man, his
+countenance wearing an expression of stupidity, runs his dingy fingers
+over the crown of his bald head, and seems questioning within himself
+whether to admit them. "I'm not in a very good humor to-day," he rather
+growls than speaks, "but you can come in&mdash;I'm of a good family&mdash;and I'll
+call Glentworthy. I'm old&mdash;I can't get about much. We'll all get old."
+The building seems in a very bad temper generally.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Glentworthy is called. Mr. Glentworthy, with a profane expletive,
+pops his head out at the top of the stairs, and inquires who wants him.
+The visitors have advanced into a little, narrow passage, lumbered with
+all sorts of rubbish, and swarming with flies. Mr. Saddlerock (for this
+is the old man's name) seems in a declining mood, the building seems in
+a declining mood, Mr. Glentworthy seems in a declining mood&mdash;everything
+you look at seems in a declining mood. "As if I hadn't enough to do,
+gettin' off this dead cribber!" interpolates Mr. Glentworthy,
+withdrawing his wicked face, and taking himself back into a room on the
+left.</p>
+
+<p>"He's not so bad a man, only it doesn't come out at first," pursues Mr.
+Saddlerock, continuing to rub his head, and to fuss round on his toes.
+His mind, Madame Montford verily believes stuck in a fog. "We must wait
+a bit," says the old man, his face seeming to elongate. "You can look
+about&mdash;there's not much to be seen, and what there is&mdash;well, it's not
+the finest." Mr. Saddlerock shuffles his feet, and then shuffles himself
+into a small side room. Through the building there breathes a warm,
+sickly atmosphere; the effect has left its marks upon the sad, waning
+countenances of its unfortunate inmates.</p>
+
+<p>Tom and Madame Montford set out to explore the establishment. They
+enter room after room, find them small, dark, and filthy beyond
+description. Some are crowded with half-naked, flabby females, whose
+careworn faces, and well-starved aspect, tells a sorrowful tale of the
+chivalry. An abundant supply of profane works, in yellow and red covers,
+would indeed seem to have been substituted for food, which, to the shame
+of our commissioners, be it said, is a scarce article here. Cooped up in
+another little room, after the fashion of wild beasts in a cage, are
+seven poor idiots, whose forlorn condition, sad, dull countenances, as
+they sit round a table, staring vacantly at one another, like mummies in
+contemplation, form a wild but singularly touching picture. Each
+countenance pales before the seeming study of its opponent, until,
+enraptured and amazed, they break out into a wild, hysterical laugh. And
+thus, poisoned, starved, and left to die, does time with these poor
+mortals fleet on.</p>
+
+<p>The visitors ascend to the second story. A shuffling of feet in a room
+at the top of the stairs excites their curiosity. Mr. Glentworthy's
+voice grates harshly on the ear, in language we cannot insert in this
+history. "Our high families never look into low places&mdash;chance if the
+commissioner has looked in here for years," says Tom, observing Madame
+Montford protect her inhaling organs with her perfumed cambric. "There
+is a principle of economy carried out&mdash;and a very nice principle, too,
+in getting these poor out of the world as quick as possible." Tom pushes
+open a door, and, heavens! what a sight is here. He stands aghast in the
+doorway&mdash;Madam, on tip-toe, peers anxiously in over his shoulders. Mr.
+Glentworthy and two negroes&mdash;the former slightly inebriated, the latter
+trembling of fright&mdash;are preparing to box up a lifeless mass, lying
+carelessly upon the floor. The distorted features, the profusion of
+long, red hair, curling over a scared face, and the stalworth figure,
+shed some light upon the identity of the deceased. "Who is it?"
+ejaculates Mr. Glentworthy, in response to an inquiry from Tom. Mr.
+Glentworthy shrugs his shoulders, and commences whistling a tune. "That
+cove!" he resumes, having stopped short in his tune, "a man what don't
+know that cove, never had much to do with politics. Stuffed more ballot
+boxes, cribbed more voters, and knocked down more slip-shod
+citizens&mdash;that cove has, than, put 'em all together, would make a South
+Carolina regiment. A mighty man among politicians, he was! Now the devil
+has cribbed him&mdash;he'll know how good it is!" Mr. Glentworthy says this
+with an air of superlative satisfaction, resuming his tune. The dead man
+is Milman Mingle, the vote-cribber, who died of a wound he received at
+the hands of an antagonist, whom he was endeavoring to "block out" while
+going to the polls to cast his vote. "Big politician, but had no home!"
+says Madame, with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Glentworthy soon had what remained of the vote-cribber&mdash;the man to
+whom so many were indebted for their high offices&mdash;into a deal box, and
+the deal box into the old hearse, and the old hearse, driven by a
+mischievous negro, hastening to that great crib to which we must all go.
+"Visitors," Mr. Glentworthy smiles, "must not question the way we do
+business here, I get no pay, and there's only old Saddlerock and me to
+do all the work. Old Saddlerock, you see, is a bit of a miser, and
+having a large family of small Saddlerocks to provide for, scrapes what
+he can into his own pocket. No one is the wiser. They can't be&mdash;they
+never come in." Mr. Glentworthy, in reply to a question from Madame
+Montford, says Mag Munday (he has some faint recollection of her) was
+twice in the house, which he dignifies with the title of "Institution."
+She never was in the "mad cells"&mdash;to his recollection. "Them what get
+there, mostly die there." A gift of two dollars secures Mr.
+Glentworthy's services, and restores him to perfect good nature. "You
+will remember," says Tom, "that this woman ran neglected about the
+streets, was much abused, and ended in becoming a maniac." Mr.
+Glentworthy remembers very well, but adds: "We have so many maniacs on
+our hands, that we can't distinctly remember them all. The clergymen
+take good care never to look in here. They couldn't do any good if they
+did, for nobody cares for the rubbish sent here; and if you tried to
+Christianize them, you would only get laughed at. I don't like to be
+laughed at. Munday's not here now, that's settled&mdash;but I'll&mdash;for
+curiosity's sake&mdash;show you into the 'mad cells.'" Mr. Glentworthy leads
+the way, down the rickety old stairs, through the lumbered passage, into
+an open square, and from thence into a small out-building, at the
+extreme end of which some dozen wet, slippery steps, led into a dark
+subterranean passage, on each side of which are small, dungeon-like
+cells. "Heavens!" exclaims Madame Montford, picking her way down the
+steep, slippery steps. "How chilling! how tomb-like! Can it be that
+mortals are confined here, and live?" she mutters, incoherently. The
+stifling atmosphere is redolent of disease.</p>
+
+<p>"It straightens 'em down, sublimely&mdash;to put 'em in here," says Mr.
+Glentworthy, laconically, lighting his lamp. "I hope to get old
+Saddlerock in here. Give him such a mellowing!" He turns his light, and
+the shadows play, spectre-like, along a low, wet aisle, hung on each
+side with rusty bolts and locks, revealing the doors of cells. An
+ominous stillness is broken by the dull clank of chains, the muttering
+of voices, the shuffling of limbs; then a low wail breaks upon the ear,
+and rises higher and higher, shriller and shriller, until in piercing
+shrieks it chills the very heart. Now it ceases, and the echoes, like
+the murmuring winds, die faintly away. "Look in here, now," says Mr.
+Glentworthy&mdash;"a likely wench&mdash;once she was!"</p>
+
+<p>He swings open a door, and there issues from a cell about four feet six
+inches wide, and nine long, the hideous countenance of a poor, mulatto
+girl, whose shrunken body, skeleton-like arms, distended and glassy
+eyes, tell but too forcibly her tale of sorrow. How vivid the picture of
+wild idiocy is pictured in her sad, sorrowing face. No painter's touch
+could have added a line more perfect. Now she rushes forward, with a
+suddenness that makes Madame Montford shrink back, appalled&mdash;now she
+fixes her eyes, hangs down her head, and gives vent to her tears. "My
+soul is white&mdash;yes, yes, yes! I know it is white; God tells me it is
+white&mdash;he knows&mdash;he never tortures. He doesn't keep me here to die&mdash;no,
+I can't die here in the dark. I won't get to heaven if I do. Oh! yes,
+yes, yes, I have a white soul, but my skin is not," she rather murmurs
+than speaks, continuing to hold down her head, while parting her long,
+clustering hair over her shoulders. Notwithstanding the spectacle of
+horror presented in this living skeleton, there is something in her look
+and action which bespeaks more the abuse of long confinement than the
+result of natural aberration of mind. "She gets fierce now and then,
+and yells," says the unmoved Glentworthy, "but she won't hurt ye&mdash;"
+<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a>
+"How long," inquires Madame Montford, who has been questioning within
+herself whether any act of her life could have brought a Human being
+into such a place, "has she been confined here?" Mr. Glentworthy says
+she tells her own tale.</p>
+
+<p>"Five years,&mdash;five years,&mdash;five long, long years, I have waited for him
+in the dark, but he won't come," she lisps in a faltering voice, as her
+emotions overwhelm her. Then crouching back upon the floor, she supports
+her head pensively in her left hand, her elbow resting on her knee, and
+her right hand poised against the brick wall, "Pencele!" says Mr.
+Glentworthy, for such is the wretched woman's name, "cannot you sing a
+song for your friends?" Turning aside to Madame Montford, he adds, "she
+sings nicely. We shall soon get her out of the way&mdash;can't last much
+longer." Mr. Glentworthy, drawing a small bottle from his pocket, places
+it to his lips, saying he stole it from old Saddlerock, and gulps down a
+portion of the contents. His breath is already redolent of whiskey. "Oh,
+yes, yes, yes! I can sing for them, I can smother them with kisses. Good
+faces seldom look in here, seldom look in here," she rises to her feet,
+and extends her bony hand, as the tears steal down Madame Montford's
+cheeks. Tom stands speechless. He wishes he had power to redress the
+wrongs of this suffering maniac&mdash;his very soul fires up against the
+coldness and apathy of a people who permit such outrages against
+humanity. "There!&mdash;he comes! he comes! he comes!" the maniac speaks,
+with faltering voice, then strikes up a plaintive air, which she sings
+with a voice of much sweetness, to these words:</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 15em;">
+When you find him, speed him to me,<br />
+And this heart will cease its bleeding, &amp;c.<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>The history of all this poor maniac's sufferings is told in a few simple
+words that fall incautiously from Mr. Glentworthy's lips: "Poor fool,
+she had only been married a couple of weeks, when they sold her husband
+down South. She thinks if she keeps mad, he'll come back."</p>
+
+<p>There was something touching, something melancholy in the music of her
+song, as its strains verberated and reverberated through the dread
+vault, then, like the echo of a lover's lute on some Alpine hill, died
+softly away.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>IN WHICH THERE IS A SINGULAR REVELATION.</p>
+
+
+<p>Madame Montford returns, unsuccessful, to her parlor. It is conscience
+that unlocks the guilty heart, that forces mortals to seek relief where
+there is no chance of finding it. It was this irresistible emotion that
+found her counseling Tom Swiggs, making of him a confidant in her search
+for the woman she felt could remove the doubt, in respect to Anna's
+identity, that hung so painfully in her mind. And yet, such was her
+position, hesitating as it were between her ambition to move in
+fashionable society, and her anxiety to atone for a past error, that she
+dare not disclose the secret of all her troubles even to him. She sought
+him, not that he could soften her anxiety, but that being an humble
+person, she could pursue her object through him, unobserved to
+society&mdash;in a word, that he would be a protection against the
+apprehensions of scandal-mongers. Such are the shifts to which the
+ambitious guilty have recourse. What she has beheld in the poor-house,
+too, only serves to quicken her thoughts of the misery she may have
+inflicted upon others, and to stimulate her resolution to persevere in
+her search for the woman. Conscious that wealth and luxury does not
+always bring happiness, and that without a spotless character, woman is
+but a feeble creature in this world, she would now sacrifice everything
+else for that one ennobling charm.</p>
+
+<p>It may be proper here to add, that although Tom Swiggs could not enter
+into the repentant woman's designs, having arranged with his employer to
+sail for London in a few days, she learned of him something that
+reflected a little more light in her path. And that was, that the woman
+Anna Bonard, repined of her act in leaving George Mullholland, to whom
+she was anxious to return&mdash;that she was now held against her will; that
+she detested Judge Sleepyhorn, although he had provided lavishly for her
+comfort. Anna knew George loved her, and that love, even to an abandoned
+woman (if she could know it sincere), was dearer to her than all else.
+She learned, too, that high up on Anna's right arm, there was imprinted
+in blue and red ink, two hearts and a broken anchor. And this tended
+further to increase her anxiety. And while evolving all these things in
+her mind, and contemplating the next best course to pursue, her parlor
+is invaded by Mr. Snivel. He is no longer Mr. Soloman, nor Mr. Snivel.
+He is the Hon. Mr. Snivel. It is curious to contemplate the character of
+the men to whose name we attach this mark of distinction. "I know you
+will pardon my seeming neglect, Madame," he says, grasping her hand
+warmly, as a smile of exultation lights up his countenance. "The fact
+is, we public men are so absorbed in the affairs of the nation, that we
+have scarce a thought to give to affairs of a private nature. We have
+elected our ticket. I was determined it should be so, if Jericho fell.
+And, more than all, I am made an honorable, by the popular sentiment of
+the people&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"To be popular with the people, is truly an honor," interrupts the lady,
+facetiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you&mdash;O, thank you, for the compliment," pursues our hero. "Now,
+as to this unfortunate person you seek, knowing it was of little use to
+search for her in our institutions of charity&mdash;one never can find out
+anything about the wretches who get into them&mdash;I put the matter into the
+hands of one of our day-police&mdash;a plaguey sharp fellow&mdash;and he set about
+scenting her out. I gave him a large sum, and promised him more if
+successful. Here, then, after a long and tedious search&mdash;I have no doubt
+the fellow earned his money&mdash;is what he got from New York, this
+morning." The Hon. Mr. Snivel, fixing his eye steadily upon her, hands
+her a letter which reads thus:</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;">"<span class="smcap">New York</span>, <i>Dec. 14th, 18&mdash;</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"Last night, while making search after a habitant of the Points, a odd
+old chip what has wandered about here for some years, some think he has
+bin a better sort of man once, I struck across the woman you want. She
+is somewhere tucked away in a Cow Bay garret, and is awful crazy; I'll
+keep me eye out till somethin' further. If her friends wants to give her
+a lift out of this place, they'd better come and see me at once.</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 15em;">
+"Yours, as ever,</p>
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;">"<span class="smcap">M&mdash;&mdash; Fitzgerald</span>."<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Snivel ogles Madame Montford over the page of a book he affects to
+read. "Guilt! deep and strong," he says within himself, as Madame, with
+flushed countenance and trembling hand, ponders and ponders over the
+paper. Then her emotions quicken, her eyes exchange glances with Mr.
+Snivel, and she whispers, with a sigh, "found&mdash;at last! And yet how
+foolish of me to give way to my feelings? The affair, at best, is none
+of mine." Mr. Snivel bows, and curls his Saxon mustache. "To do good
+for others is the natural quality of a generous nature."</p>
+
+<p>Madame, somewhat relieved by this condescension of the Hon. gentleman,
+says, in reply, "I am curious at solving family affairs."</p>
+
+<p>"And I!" says our hero, with refreshing coolness&mdash;"always ready to do a
+bit of a good turn."</p>
+
+<p>Madame pauses, as if in doubt whether to proceed or qualify what she has
+already said. "A relative, whose happiness I make my own," she resumes,
+and again pauses, while the words tremble upon her lips. She hears the
+words knelling in her ears: "A guilty conscience needs no betrayer."</p>
+
+<p>"You have," pursues our hero, "a certain clue; and of that I may
+congratulate you."</p>
+
+<p>Madame says she will prepare at once to return to her home in New York,
+and&mdash;and here again the words hang upon her lips. She was going to say,
+her future proceedings would be governed by the paper she holds so
+nervously in her finger.</p>
+
+<p>Snivel here receives a nostrum from the lady's purse. "Truly!&mdash;Madame,"
+he says, in taking leave of her, "the St. Cecilia will regret you&mdash;we
+shall all regret you; you honored and graced our assemblies so. Our
+first families will part with you reluctantly. It may, however, be some
+satisfaction to know how many kind things will be said of you in your
+absence." Mr. Snivel makes his last bow, a sarcastic smile playing over
+his face, and pauses into the street.</p>
+
+<p>On the following day she encloses a present of fifty dollars to Tom
+Swiggs, enjoins the necessity of his keeping her visit to the
+poor-house a secret, and takes leave of Charleston.</p>
+
+<p>And here our scene changes, and we must transport the reader to New
+York. It is the day following the night Mr. Detective Fitzgerald
+discovered what remained of poor Toddleworth, in the garret of the House
+of the Nine Nations. The City Hall clock strikes twelve. The goodly are
+gathered into the House of the Foreign Missions, in which peace and
+respectability would seem to preside. The good-natured fat man is in his
+seat, pondering over letters lately received from the "dark regions" of
+Arabia; the somewhat lean, but very respectable-looking Secretary, is
+got nicely into his spectacles, and sits pondering over lusty folios of
+reports from Hindostan, and various other fields of missionary labor,
+all setting forth the various large amounts of money expended, how much
+more could be expended, and what a blessing it is to be enabled to
+announce the fact that there is now a hope of something being done. The
+same anxious-faced bevy of females we described in a previous chapter,
+are here, seated at a table, deeply interested in certain periodicals
+and papers; while here and there about the room, are several
+contemplative gentlemen in black. Brother Spyke, having deeply
+interested Brothers Phills and Prim with an account of his visit to the
+Bottomless Pit, paces up and down the room, thinking of Antioch, and the
+evangelization of the heathen world. "Truly, brother," speaks the
+good-natured fat man, "his coming seemeth long." "Eleven was the hour;
+but why he tarryeth I know not," returns Brother Spyke, with calm
+demeanor. "There is something more alarming in Sister Slocum's absence,"
+interposes one of the ladies. The house seems in a waiting mood, when
+suddenly Mr. Detective Fitzgerald enters, and changes it to one of
+anxiety. Several voices inquire if he was successful. He shakes his
+head, and having recounted his adventures, the discovery of where the
+money went to, and the utter hopelessness of an effort to recover it;
+"as for the man, Toddleworth," he says, methodically, "he was found with
+a broken skull. The Coroner has had an inquest over him; but murders are
+so common. The verdict was, that he died of a broken skull, by the hands
+of some one to the jury unknown. Suspicions were strong against one Tom
+Downey, who is very like a heathen, and is mistrusted of several
+murders. The affair disturbed the neighborhood a little, and the Coroner
+tried to get something out concerning the man's history; but it all went
+to the wind, for the people were all so ignorant. They all knew
+everything about him, which turned out to be just nothing, which they
+were ready to swear to. One believed Father Flaherty made the Bible,
+another believed the Devil still chained in Columbia College&mdash;a third
+believed the stars were lanterns to guide priests&mdash;the only angels they
+know&mdash;on their way to heaven."</p>
+
+<p>"Truly!" exclaims the man of the spectacles, in a moment of abstraction.</p>
+
+<p>Brother Spyke says: "the Lord be merciful."</p>
+
+<p>"On the body of the poor man we found this document. It was rolled
+carefully up in a rag, and is supposed to throw some light on his
+history." Mr. Fitzgerald draws leisurely from his pocket a distained and
+much-crumpled paper, written over in a bold, business-like hand, and
+passes it to the man in the spectacle, as a dozen or more anxious faces
+gather round, eager to explore the contents.</p>
+
+<p>"He went out of the Points as mysteriously as he came in. We buried him
+a bit ago, and have got Downey in the Tombs: he'll be hanged, no doubt,"
+concludes the detective, laying aside his cap, and setting himself,
+uninvited, into a chair. The man in the spectacles commences reading the
+paper, which runs as follows:</p>
+
+<p>"I have been to you an unknown, and had died such an unknown, but that
+my conscience tells me I have a duty to perform. I have wronged no one,
+owe no one a penny, harbor no malice against any one; I am a victim of a
+broken heart, and my own melancholy. Many years ago I pursued an
+honorable business in this city, and was respected and esteemed. Many
+knew me, and fortune seemed to shed upon me her smiles. I married a lady
+of wealth and affluence, one I loved and doted on. Our affections seemed
+formed for our bond; we lived for one another; our happiness seemed
+complete. But alas! an evil hour came. Ambitious of admiration, she
+gradually became a slave to fashionable society, and then gave herself
+up to those flatterers who hang about it, and whose chief occupation it
+is to make weak-minded women vain of their own charms. Coldness, and
+indifference to home, soon followed. My house was invaded, my home&mdash;that
+home I regarded so sacredly&mdash;became the resort of men in whose society I
+found no pleasure, with whom I had no feeling in common. I could not
+remonstrate, for that would have betrayed in me a want of confidence in
+the fidelity of one I loved too blindly. I was not one of those who make
+life miserable in seeing a little and suspecting much. No! I forgave
+many things that wounded my feelings; and my love for her would not
+permit a thought to invade the sanctity of her fidelity. Business
+called me into a foreign country, where I remained several months, then
+returned&mdash;not, alas! to a home made happy by the purity of one I
+esteemed an angel;&mdash;not to the arms of a pure, fond wife, but to find my
+confidence betrayed, my home invaded&mdash;she, in whom I had treasured up my
+love, polluted; and slander, like a desert wind, pouring its desolating
+breath into my very heart. In my blindness I would have forgiven her,
+taken her back to my distracted bosom, and fled with her to some distant
+land, there still to have lived and loved her. But she sought rather to
+conceal her guilt than ask forgiveness. My reason fled me, my passion
+rose above my judgment, I sank under the burden of my sorrow, attempted
+to put an end to her life, and to my own misery. Failing in this, for my
+hand was stayed by a voice I heard calling to me, I fled the country and
+sought relief for my feelings in the wilds of Chili. I left nearly all
+to my wife, took but little with me, for my object was to bury myself
+from the world that had known me, and respected me. Destitution followed
+me; whither I went there seemed no rest, no peace of mind for me. The
+past floated uppermost in my mind. I was ever recurring to home, to
+those with whom I had associated, to an hundred things that had endeared
+me to my own country. Years passed&mdash;years of suffering and sorrow, and I
+found myself a lone wanderer, without friend or money. During this time
+it was reported at home, as well as chronicled in the newspapers, that I
+was dead. The inventor of this report had ends, I will not name them
+here, to serve. I was indeed dead to all who had known me happy in this
+world. Disguised, a mere shadow of what I was once, I wandered back to
+New York, heart-sick and discouraged, and buried myself among those
+whose destitution, worse, perhaps, than my own, afforded me a means of
+consolation. My life has long been a burden to me; I have many times
+prayed God, in his mercy, to take me away, to close the account of my
+misery. Do you ask my name? Ah! that is what pains me most. To live
+unknown, a wretched outcast, in a city where I once enjoyed a name that
+was respected, is what has haunted my thoughts, and tortured my
+feelings. But I cannot withhold it, even though it has gone down,
+tainted and dishonored. It is Henry Montford. And with this short record
+I close my history, leaving the rest for those to search out who find
+this paper, at my death, which cannot be long hence.</p>
+
+<p style="margin-left: 25em;" >
+"<span class="smcap">Henry Montford.</span></p>
+<p>
+"<i>New York, Nov. &mdash;, 184-.</i>"
+</p>
+
+<p>A few sighs follow the reading of the paper, but no very deep interest,
+no very tender emotion, is awakened in the hearts of the goodly.
+Nevertheless, it throws a flood of light upon the morals of a class of
+society vulgarly termed fashionable. The meek females hold their tears
+and shake their heads. Brother Spyke elongates his lean figure, draws
+near, and says the whole thing is very unsatisfactory. Not one word is
+let drop about the lost money.</p>
+
+<p>Brother Phills will say this&mdash;that the romance is very cleverly got up,
+as the theatre people say.</p>
+
+<p>The good-natured fat man, breathing somewhat freer, says: "Truly! these
+people have a pleasant way of passing out of the world. They die of
+their artful practices&mdash;seeking to devour the good and the generous."</p>
+
+<p>"There's more suffers than imposes&mdash;an' there's more than's written
+meant in that same bit of paper. Toddleworth was as inoffensive a
+creature as you'd meet in a day. May God forgive him all his faults;"
+interposes Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, gathering up his cap and passing
+slowly out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>And this colloquy is put an end to by the sudden appearance of Sister
+Slocum. A rustling silk dress, of quiet color, and set off with three
+modest flounces; an India shawl, loosely thrown over her shoulders; a
+dainty little collar, of honiton, drawn neatly about her neck, and a
+bonnet of buff-colored silk, tastefully set off with tart-pie work
+without, and lined with virtuous white satin within, so saucily poised
+on her head, suggests the idea that she has an eye to fashion as well as
+the heathen world. Her face, too, always so broad, bright, and
+benevolent in its changes&mdash;is chastely framed in a crape border, so
+nicely crimped, so nicely tucked under her benevolent chin at one end,
+and so nicely pinned under the virtuous white lining at the other.
+Goodness itself radiates from those large; earnest blue eyes, those
+soft, white cheeks, that large forehead, with those dashes of silvery
+hair crossing it so smoothly and so exactly&mdash;that well-developed, but
+rather broad nose, and that mouth so expressive of gentleness.</p>
+
+<p>Sister Slocum, it requires no very acute observer to discover, has got
+something more than the heathen world at heart, for all those soft,
+congenial features are shadowed with sadness. Silently she takes her
+seat, sits abstracted for a few minutes&mdash;the house is thrown into a
+wondering mood&mdash;then looks wisely through her spectacles, and having
+folded her hands with an air of great resignation, shakes, and shakes,
+and shakes her head. Her eyes suddenly fill with tears, her thoughts
+wander, or seem to wander, she attempts to speak, her voice chokes, and
+the words hang upon her lips. All is consternation and excitement.
+Anxious faces gather round, and whispering voices inquire the cause. The
+lean man in the spectacles having applied his hartshorn bottle, Sister
+Slocum, to the great joy of all present, is so far restored as to be
+able to announce the singular, but no less melancholy fact, that our
+dear guest, Sister Swiggs, has passed from this world to a better. She
+retired full of sorrow, but came not in the morning. And this so
+troubled Sister Scudder that there was no peace until she entered her
+room. But she found the angel had been there before her, smoothed the
+pillow of the stranger, and left her to sleep in death. On earth her
+work was well done, and in the arms of the angel, her pure spirit now
+beareth witness in heaven. Sister Slocum's emotions forbid her saying
+more. She concludes, and buries her face in her cambric. Then an
+outpouring of consoling words follow. "He cometh like a thief in the
+night: His works are full of mystery; truly, He chasteneth; He giveth
+and taketh away." Such are a few of the sentiments lisped, regrettingly,
+for the departed.</p>
+
+<p>How vain are the hopes with which we build castles in the air; how
+strange the motives that impel us to ill-advised acts. We leave
+untouched the things that call loudest for our energies, and treasure up
+our little that we may serve that which least concerns us. In this
+instance it is seen how that which came of evil went in evil; how
+disappointment stepped in and blew the castle down at a breath.</p>
+
+<p>There could not be a doubt that the disease of which Sister Smiggs
+died, and which it is feared the State to which she belongs will one day
+die, was little dignity. Leaving her then in the arms of the House of
+the Foreign Mission, and her burial to the Secretary of the very
+excellent "Tract Society" she struggled so faithfully to serve, we close
+this chapter of events, the reader having, no doubt, discovered the
+husband of Madame Montford in the wretched man, Mr. Toddleworth.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>THE TWO PICTURES.</p>
+
+
+<p>We come now to another stage of this history. Six months have glided
+into the past since the events recorded in the foregoing chapter. The
+political world of Charleston is resolved to remain in the Union a few
+months longer. It is a pleasant evening in early May. The western sky is
+golden with the setting sun, and the heavens are filled with battlements
+of refulgent clouds, now softening away into night. Yonder to the East,
+reposes a dark grove. A gentle breeze fans through its foliage, the
+leaves laugh and whisper, the perfumes of flowers are diffusing through
+the air birds make melodious with their songs, the trilling stream
+mingles its murmurs, and nature would seem gathering her beauties into
+one enchanting harmony. In the foreground of the grove, and looking as
+if it borrowed solitude of the deep foliage, in which it is half buried,
+rises a pretty villa, wherein may be seen, surrounded by luxuries the
+common herd might well envy, the fair, the beautiful siren, Anna Bonard.
+In the dingy little back parlor of the old antiquary, grim poverty
+looking in through every crevasse, sits the artless and pure-minded
+Maria McArthur. How different are the thoughts, the hopes, the emotions
+of these two women. Comfort would seem smiling on the one, while
+destitution threatens the other. To the eye that looks only upon the
+surface, how deceptive is the picture. The one with every wish
+gratified, an expression of sorrow shadowing her countenance, and that
+freshness and sweetness for which she was distinguished passing away,
+contemplates herself a submissive captive, at the mercy of one for whom
+she has no love, whose gold she cannot inherit, and whose roof she must
+some day leave for the street. The other feels poverty grasping at her,
+but is proud in the possession of her virtue; and though trouble would
+seem tracing its lines upon her features, her heart remains untouched by
+remorse;&mdash;she is strong in the consciousness that when all else is gone,
+her virtue will remain her beacon light to happiness. Anna, in the loss
+of that virtue, sees herself shut out from that very world that points
+her to the yawning chasm of her future; she feels how like a slave in
+the hands of one whose heart is as cold as his smiles are false, she is.
+Maria owes the world no hate, nor are her thoughts disturbed by such
+contemplations. Anna, with embittered and remorseful feelings&mdash;with dark
+and terrible passions agitating her bosom, looks back over her eventful
+life, to a period when even her own history is shut to her, only to find
+the tortures of her soul heightened. Maria looks back upon a life of
+fond attachment to her father, to her humble efforts to serve others,
+and to know that she has borne with Christian fortitude those ills which
+are incident to humble life. With her, an emotion of joy repays the
+contemplation. To Anna, the future is hung in dark forebodings. She
+recalls to mind the interview with Madame Montford, but that only tends
+to deepen the storm of anguish the contemplation of her parentage
+naturally gives rise to. With Maria, the present hangs dark and the
+future brightens. She thinks of the absent one she loves&mdash;of how she can
+best serve her aged father, and how she can make their little home
+cheerful until the return of Tom Swiggs, who is gone abroad. It must be
+here disclosed that the old man had joined their hands, and invoked a
+blessing on their heads, ere Tom took his departure. Maria looks forward
+to the day of his return with joyous emotions. That return is the day
+dream of her heart; in it she sees her future brightening. Such are the
+cherished thoughts of a pure mind. Poverty may gnaw away at the
+hearthstone, cares and sorrow may fall thick in your path, the rich may
+frown upon you, and the vicious sport with your misfortunes, but virtue
+gives you power to overcome them all. In Maria's ear something whispers:
+Woman! hold fast to thy virtue, for if once it go neither gold nor false
+tongues can buy it back.</p>
+
+<p>Anna sees the companion of her early life, and the sharer of her
+sufferings, shut up in a prison, a robber, doomed to the lash. "He was
+sincere to me, and my only true friend&mdash;am I the cause of this?" she
+muses. Her heart answers, and her bosom fills with dark and stormy
+emotions. One small boon is now all she asks. She could bow down and
+worship before the throne of virgin innocence, for now its worth towers,
+majestic, before her. It discovers to her the falsity of her day-dream;
+it tells her what an empty vessel is this life of ours without it. She
+knows George Mullholland loves her passionately; she knows how deep will
+be his grief, how revengeful his feelings. It is poverty that fastens
+the poison in the heart of the rejected lover. The thought of this
+flashes through her mind. His hopeless condition, crushed out as it were
+to gratify him in whose company her pleasures are but transitory, and
+may any day end, darkens as she contemplates it. How can she acquit her
+conscience of having deliberately and faithlessly renounced one who was
+so true to her? She repines, her womanly nature revolts at the
+thought&mdash;the destiny her superstition pictured so dark and terrible,
+stares her in the face. She resolves a plan for his release, and,
+relieved with a hope that she can accomplish it while propitiating the
+friendship of the Judge, the next day seeks him in his prison cell, and
+with all that vehemence woman, in the outpouring of her generous
+impulses, can call to her aid, implores his forgiveness. But the rust of
+disappointment has dried up his better nature; his heart is wrung with
+the shafts of ingratitude&mdash;all the fierce passions of his nature, hate,
+scorn and revenge, rise up in the one stormy outburst of his soul. He
+casts upon her a look of withering scorn, the past of that life so
+chequered flashes vividly through his thoughts, his hate deepens, he
+hurls her from him, invokes a curse upon her head, and shuts her from
+his sight. "Mine will be the retribution!" he says, knitting his dark
+brow.</p>
+
+<p>How is it with the Judge&mdash;that high functionary who provides thus
+sumptuously for his mistress? His morals, like his judgments, are
+excused, in the cheap quality of our social morality.</p>
+
+<p>Such is gilded vice; such is humble virtue.</p>
+
+<p>A few days more and the term of the Sessions commences. George is
+arraigned, and the honorable Mr. Snivel, who laid the plot, and
+furthered the crime, now appears as a principal witness. He procures the
+man's conviction, and listens with guilty heart to the sentence, for he
+is rearraigned on sentence day, and Mr. Snivel is present. And while
+the culprit is sentenced to two years imprisonment, and to receive
+eighty lashes, laid on his bare back, while at the public whipping-post,
+at four stated times, the man who stimulated the hand of the criminal,
+is honored and flattered by society. Such is the majesty of the law.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXV.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>IN WHICH A LITTLE LIGHT IS SHED UPON THE CHARACTER OF OUR CHIVALRY.</p>
+
+
+<p>Mr. McArthur has jogged on, in the good old way but his worldly store
+seems not to increase. The time, nevertheless, is arrived when he is
+expected to return the little amount borrowed of Keepum, through the
+agency of Mr. Snivel. Again and again has he been notified that he must
+pay or go to that place in which we lock up all our very estimable
+"first families," whose money has taken wings and flown away. Not
+content with this, the two worthy gentlemen have more than once invaded
+the Antiquary's back parlor, and offered, as we have described in a
+former chapter, improper advances to his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Keepum, dressed in a flashy coat, his sharp, mercenary face, hectic
+of night revels, and his small but wicked eyes wandering over Mr.
+McArthur's stock in trade, is seen in pursuit of his darling object. "I
+don't mind so much about the pay, old man! I'm up well in the world. The
+fact is, I am esteemed&mdash;and I am!&mdash;a public benefactor. I never forget
+how much we owe to the chivalric spirit of our ancestors, and in dealing
+with the poor&mdash;money matters and politics are different from anything
+else&mdash;I am too generous. I don't mind my own interests enough. There it
+is!" Mr. Keepum says this with an evident relief to himself. Indeed it
+must here be acknowledged that this very excellent member of the St.
+Cecilia Society, and profound dealer in lottery tickets, like our fine
+gentlemen who are so scrupulous of their chivalry while stabbing men
+behind their backs, fancies himself one of the most disinterested beings
+known to generous nature.</p>
+
+<p>Bent and tottering, the old man recounts the value of his curiosities;
+which, like our chivalry, is much talked of but hard to get at. He
+offers in apology for the nonpayment of the debt his knowledge of the
+old continentals, just as we offer our chivalry in excuse for every
+disgraceful act&mdash;every savage law. In fine, he follows the maxims of our
+politicians, recapitulating a dozen or more things (wiping the sweat
+from his brow the while) that have no earthly connection with the
+subject. "They are all very well," Mr. Keepum rejoins, with an air of
+self-importance, dusting the ashes from his cigar. He only wishes to
+impress the old man with the fact that he is his very best friend.</p>
+
+<p>And having somewhat relieved the Antiquary's mind of its apprehensions,
+for McArthur stood in great fear of duns, Mr. Keepum pops, uninvited,
+into the "back parlor," where he has not long been when Maria's screams
+for assistance break forth.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I am old&mdash;there is not much left me now. Yes, I am old, my
+infirmities are upon me. Pray, good man, spare me my daughter. Nay, you
+must not break the peace of my house;" mutters the old man, advancing
+into the room, with infirm step, and looking wistfully at his daughter,
+as if eager to clasp her in his arms. Maria stands in a defiant
+attitude, her left hand poised on a chair, and her right pointing
+scornfully in the face of Keepum, who recoils under the look of
+withering scorn that darkens her countenance. "A gentleman! begone,
+knave! for your looks betray you. You cannot buy my ruin with your gold;
+you cannot deceive me with your false tongue. If hate were a noble
+passion, I would not vent that which now agitates my bosom on you. Nay,
+I would reserve it for a better purpose&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed, indeed&mdash;now I say honestly, your daughter mistakes me. I was
+only being a little friendly to her," interrupts the chopfallen man. He
+did not think her capable of summoning so much passion to her aid.</p>
+
+<p>Maria, it must be said, was one of those seemingly calm natures in which
+resentment takes deepest root, in which the passions are most violent
+when roused. Solitude does, indeed, tend to invest the passionate nature
+with a calm surface. A less penetrating observer than the chivalrous
+Keepum, might have discovered in Maria a spirit he could not so easily
+humble to his uses. It is the modest, thoughtful woman, you cannot make
+lick the dust in sorrow and tears. "Coward! you laid ruffian hands on
+me!" says Maria, again towering to her height, and giving vent to her
+feelings.</p>
+
+<p>"Madam, Madam," pursues Keepum, trembling and crouching, "you asperse my
+honor,&mdash;my sacred honor, Madam. You see&mdash;let me say a word, now&mdash;you are
+letting your temper get the better of you. I never, and the public know
+I never did&mdash;I never did a dishonorable thing in my life." Turning to
+the bewildered old man, he continues: "to be called a knave, and
+upbraided in this manner by your daughter, when I have befriended you
+all these days!" His wicked eyes fall guilty to the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"Out man!&mdash;out! Let your sense of right, if you have it, teach you what
+is friendship. Know that, like mercy, it is not poured out with hands
+reeking of female dishonor."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Keepum, like many more of our very fine gentlemen, had so trained
+his thoughts to look upon the poor as slaves created for a base use,
+that he neither could bring his mind to believe in the existence of such
+things as noble spirits under humble roofs, nor to imagine himself&mdash;even
+while committing the grossest outrages&mdash;doing aught to sully the high
+chivalric spirit he fancied he possessed. The old Antiquary, on the
+other hand, was not a little surprised to find his daughter displaying
+such extraordinary means of repulsing an enemy.</p>
+
+<p>Trembling, and childlike he stands, conscious of being in the grasp of a
+knave, whose object was more the ruin of his daughter than the recovery
+of a small amount of money, the tears glistening in his eyes, and the
+finger of old age marked on his furrowed brow.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, father!" says Maria, and the words hang upon her quivering
+lips, her face becomes pale as marble, her strength deserts her,&mdash;she
+trembles from head to foot, and sinks upon the old man's bosom,
+struggling to smother her sobs. Her passion has left her; her calmer
+nature has risen up to rebuke it. The old man leads her tenderly to the
+sofa, and there seeks to sooth her troubled spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"As if this hub bub was always to last!" a voice speaks suddenly. It is
+the Hon. Mr. Snivel, who looks in at the eleventh hour, as he says, to
+find affairs always in a fuss. "Being a man of legal knowledge&mdash;always
+ready to do a bit of a good turn&mdash;especially in putting a disordered
+house to rights&mdash;I thought it well to look in, having a leisure minute
+or two (we have had a convention for dissolving the Union, and passed a
+vote to that end!) to give to my old friends," Mr. Snivel says, in a
+voice at once conciliating and insinuating. "I always think of a border
+feud when I come here&mdash;things that find no favor with me." Mr. Snivel,
+having first patted the old man on the shoulder, exchanges a significant
+wink with his friend Keepum, and then bestows upon him what he is
+pleased to call a little wholesome advice. "People misunderstand Mr.
+Keepum," he says, "who is one of the most generous of men, but lacks
+discretion, and in trying to be polite to everybody, lets his feelings
+have too much latitude now and then." Maria buries her face in her
+handkerchief, as if indifferent to the reconciliation offered.</p>
+
+<p>"Now let this all be forgotten&mdash;let friendship reign among friends:
+that's my motto. But! I say,&mdash;this is a bad piece of news we have this
+morning. Clipped this from an English paper," resumes the Hon.
+gentleman, drawing coolly from his pocket a bit of paper, having the
+appearance of an extract.</p>
+
+<p>"You are never without some kind of news&mdash;mostly bad!" says Keepum,
+flinging himself into a chair, with an air of restored confidence. Mr.
+Snivel bows, thanks the gentleman for the compliment, and commences to
+read. "This news," he adds, "may be relied upon, having come from
+Lloyd's List: 'Intelligence was received here (this is, you must
+remember, from a London paper, he says, in parentheses) this morning, of
+the total loss of the American ship &mdash;&mdash;, bound from this port for
+Charleston, U.S., near the Needles. Every soul on board, except the
+Captain and second mate, perished. The gale was one of the worst ever
+known on this coast&mdash;'"</p>
+
+<p>"The worst ever known on this coast!" ejaculates Mr. Keepum, his wicked
+eyes steadily fixed upon Maria. "One of Trueman's ships," Mr. Snivel
+adds. "Unlucky fellow, that Trueman&mdash;second ship he has lost."</p>
+
+<p>"By-the-bye," rejoins Keepum, as if a thought has just flashed upon him,
+"your old friend, Tom Swiggs, was supercargo, clerk, or whatever you may
+call it, aboard that ship, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>It is the knave who can most naturally affect surprise and regret when
+it suits his purposes, and Mr. Snivel is well learned in the art.
+"True!" he says, "as I'm a Christian. Well, I had made a man of him&mdash;I
+don't regret it, for I always liked him&mdash;and this is the end of the poor
+fellow, eh?" Turning to McArthur, he adds, rather unconcernedly: "You
+know somewhat of him?" The old man sits motionless beside his daughter,
+the changes of whose countenance discover the inward emotions that
+agitate her bosom. Her eyes fill with tears; she exchanges inquiring
+glances, first with Keepum, then with Snivel; then a thought strikes her
+that she received a letter from Tom, setting forth his prospects, and
+his intention to return in the ship above named. It was very natural
+that news thus artfully manufactured, and revealed with such apparent
+truthfulness, should produce a deep impression in the mind of an
+unsuspecting girl. Indeed, it was with some effort that she bore up
+under it. Expressions of grief she would fain suppress before the enemy
+gain a mastery over her&mdash;and ere they are gone the cup flows over, and
+she sinks exhausted upon the sofa.</p>
+
+<p>"There! good as far as it goes. You have now another mode of gaining the
+victory," Mr. Snivel whispers in the ear of his friend, Keepum; and the
+two gentlemen pass into the street.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>IN WHICH A LAW IS SEEN TO SERVE BASE PURPOSES.</p>
+
+
+<p>Maria has passed a night of unhappiness. Hopes and fears are knelling in
+the morning, which brings nothing to relieve her anxiety for the absent
+one; and Mr. Snivel has taken the precaution to have the news of the
+lost ship find its way into the papers.</p>
+
+<p>And while our city seems in a state of very general excitement; while
+great placards on every street corner inform the wondering stranger that
+a mighty Convention (presided over by the Hon. S. Snivel) for dissolving
+the Union, is shortly to be holden; while our political world has got
+the Union on its shoulders, and threatens to throw it into the nearest
+ditch; while our streets swarm with long, lean, and very hairy-faced
+delegates (all lusty of war and secession), who have dragged themselves
+into the city to drink no end of whiskey, and say all sorts of foolish
+things their savage and half-civilized constituents are expected to
+applaud; while our more material and conservative citizens are thinking
+what asses we make of ourselves; while the ship-of-war we built to fight
+the rest of the Union, lies an ugly lump in the harbor, and "won't go
+over the bar;" while the "shoe-factory" we established to supply
+niggerdom with soles, is snuffed out for want of energy and capacity to
+manage it; while some of our non-slaveholding, but most active secession
+merchants, are moving seriously in the great project of establishing a
+"<span class="smcap">Southern Candle-factory</span>"&mdash;a thing much needed in the
+"up-country;" while our graver statesmen (who don't get the State out of
+the Union fast enough for the ignorant rabble, who have nothing but
+their folly at stake) are pondering over the policy of spending five
+hundred thousand dollars for the building of another war-ship&mdash;one that
+"will go over the bar;" and while curiously-written letters from
+Generals Commander and Quattlebum, offering to bring their allied forces
+into the field&mdash;to blow this confederation down at a breath whenever
+called upon, are being published, to the great joy of all secessiondom;
+while saltpetre, broadswords, and the muskets made for us by Yankees to
+fight Yankees, and which were found to have wood instead of flint in
+their hammers, (and which trick of the Yankees we said was just like the
+Yankees,) are in great demand&mdash;and a few of our mob-politicians, who are
+all "Kern'ls" of regiments that never muster, prove conclusively our
+necessity for keeping a fighting-man in Congress; while, we assert, many
+of our first and best known families have sunk the assemblies of the St.
+Cecilia in the more important question of what order of government will
+best suit&mdash;in the event of our getting happily out of the Union!&mdash;our
+refined and very exacting state of society;&mdash;whether an Empire or a
+Monarchy, and whether we ought to set up a Quattlebum or Commander
+dynasty?&mdash;whether the Bungle family or the Jungle family (both fighting
+families) will have a place nearest the throne; what sort of orders will
+be bestowed, who will get them, and what colored liveries will best
+become us (all of which grave questions threaten us with a very
+extensive war of families)?&mdash;while all these great matters find us in a
+sea of trouble, there enters the curiosity-shop of the old Antiquary a
+suspicious-looking individual in green spectacles.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Hardscrabble!" says the man, bowing and taking a seat, leisurely,
+upon the decrepit sofa. Mr. McArthur returns his salutation,
+contemplates him doubtingly for a minute, then resumes his fussing and
+brushing.</p>
+
+<p>The small, lean figure; the somewhat seedy broadcloth in which it is
+enveloped; the well-browned and very sharp features; the straight,
+dark-gray hair, and the absent manner of Mr. Hardscrabble, might, with
+the uninitiated, cause him to be mistaken for an "up-country" clergyman
+of the Methodist denomination.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Hardscrabble? Mr. Hardscrabble? Mr. Hardscrabble?" muses the
+Antiquary, canting his head wisely, "the Sheriff, as I'm a man of
+years!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardscrabble comforts his eyes with his spectacles, and having
+glanced vacantly over the little shop, as if to take an inventory of its
+contents, draws from his breast-pocket a paper containing very ominous
+seals and scrawls.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm reluctant about doing these things with an old man like you," Mr.
+Hardscrabble condescends to say, in a sharp, grating voice; "but I have
+to obey the demands of my office." Here he commences reading the paper
+to the trembling old man, who, having adjusted his broad-bowed
+spectacles, and arrayed them against the spectacles of Mr. Hardscrabble,
+says he thinks it contains a great many useless recapitulations.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hardscrabble, his eyes peering eagerly through his glasses, and his
+lower jaw falling and exposing the inner domain of his mouth, replies
+with an&mdash;"Umph." The old Antiquary was never before called upon to
+examine a document so confusing to his mind. Not content with a
+surrender of his property, it demands his body into the bargain&mdash;all at
+the suit of one Keepum. He makes several motions to go show it to his
+daughter; but that, Mr. Hardscrabble thinks, is scarce worth while. "I
+sympathize with you&mdash;knowing how frugal you have been through life. A
+list of your effects&mdash;if you have one&mdash;will save a deal of trouble. I
+fear (Mr. Hardscrabble works his quid) my costs will hardly come out of
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"There's a fortune in them&mdash;if the love of things of yore&mdash;" The old man
+hesitates, and shakes his head dolefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Yore!&mdash;a thing that would starve out our profession."</p>
+
+<p>"A little time to turn, you know. There's my stock of uniforms."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;I&mdash;know," Mr. Hardscrabble rejoins, with a drawl; "but I must
+lock up the traps. Yes, I must lock you up, and sell you out&mdash;unless you
+redeem before sale day; that you can't do, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>And while the old man totters into the little back parlor, and, giving
+way to his emotions, throws himself upon the bosom of his fond daughter,
+to whom he discloses his troubles, Mr. Hardscrabble puts locks and bolts
+upon his curiosity-shop. This important business done, he leads the old
+man away, and gives him a lodging in the old jail.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>A SHORT CHAPTER OF ORDINARY EVENTS.</p>
+
+
+<p>To bear up against the malice of inexorable enemies is at once the gift
+and the shield of a noble nature. And here it will be enough to say,
+that Maria bore the burden of her ills with fortitude and resignation,
+trusting in Him who rights the wronged, to be her deliverer. What took
+place when she saw her aged father led away, a prisoner; what thoughts
+invaded that father's mind when the prison bolt grated on his ear, and
+he found himself shut from all that had been dear to him through life,
+regard for the feelings of the reader forbids us recounting here.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally intelligent, Maria had, by close application to books,
+acquired some knowledge of the world. Nor was she entirely ignorant of
+those arts designing men call to their aid when seeking to effect the
+ruin of the unwary female. Thus fortified, she fancied she saw in the
+story of the lost ship a plot against herself, while the persecution of
+her father was only a means to effect the object. Launched between hope
+and fear, then&mdash;hope that her lover still lived, and that with his
+return her day would brighten&mdash;fear lest the report might be founded in
+truth, she nerves herself for the struggle. She knew full well that to
+give up in despair&mdash;to cast herself upon the cold charities of a busy
+world, would only be to hasten her downfall. Indeed, she had already
+felt how cold, and how far apart were the lines that separated our rich
+from our poor.</p>
+
+<p>The little back parlor is yet spared to Maria, and in it she may now be
+seen plying at her needle, early and late. It is the only means left her
+of succoring the parent from whom she has been so ruthlessly separated.
+Hoping, fearing, bright to-day and dark to-morrow, willing to work and
+wait&mdash;here she sits. A few days pass, and the odds and ends of the
+Antiquary's little shop, like the "shirts" of the gallant Fremont, whom
+we oppressed while poor, and essayed to flatter when a hero, are
+gazetted under the head of "sheriff's sale." Hope, alas! brings no
+comfort to Maria. Time rolls on, the month's rent falls due, her father
+pines and sinks in confinement, and her needle is found inadequate to
+the task undertaken. Necessity demands, and one by one she parts with
+her few cherished mementos of the past, that she may save an aged father
+from starvation.</p>
+
+<p>The "prisoner" has given notice that he will take the benefit of the
+act&mdash;commonly called "an act for the relief of poor debtors." But before
+he can reach this boon, ten days must elapse. Generous-minded
+legislators, no doubt, intended well when they constructed this act, but
+so complex are its provisions that any legal gentleman may make it a
+very convenient means of oppression. And in a community where laws not
+only have their origin in the passions of men, but are made to serve
+popular prejudices&mdash;where the quality of justice obtained depends upon
+the position and sentiments of him who seeks it,&mdash;the weak have no
+chance against the powerful.</p>
+
+<p>The multiplicity of notices, citations, and schedules, necessary to the
+setting free of this "poor debtor" (for these fussy officials must be
+paid), Maria finds making a heavy drain on her lean purse.</p>
+
+<p>The Court is in session, and the ten days having glided away, the old
+man is brought into "open Court" by two officials with long tipstaffs,
+and faces looking as if they had been carefully pickled in strong
+drinks. "Surely, now, they'll set me free&mdash;I can give them no more&mdash;I am
+old and infirm&mdash;they have got all&mdash;and my daughter!" he muses within
+himself. Ah! he little knows how uncertain a thing is the law.</p>
+
+<p>The Judge is engaged over a case in which two very fine old families are
+disputing for the blood and bones of a little "nigger" girl. The
+possession of this helpless slave, the Judge (he sits in easy dignity)
+very naturally regards of superior importance when compared with the
+freedom of a "poor debtor." He cannot listen to the story of
+destitution&mdash;precisely what was sought by Keepum&mdash;to-day, and to-morrow
+the Court adjourns for six months.</p>
+
+<p>The Antiquary is remanded back to his cell. No one in Court cares for
+him; no one has a thought for the achings of that heart his release
+would unburden; the sorrows of that lone girl are known only to herself
+and the One in whom she puts her trust. She, nevertheless, seeks the old
+man in his prison, and there comforts him as best she can.</p>
+
+<p>Five days more, and the "prisoner" is brought before the Commissioner
+for Special Bail, who is no less a personage than the rosy-faced Clerk
+of the Court, just adjourned. And here we cannot forbear to say, that
+however despicable the object sought, however barren of right the plea,
+however adverse to common humanity the spirit of the action, there is
+always to be found some legal gentleman, true to the lower instincts of
+the profession, ready to lend himself to his client's motives. And in
+this instance, the cunning Keepum finds an excellent instrument of
+furthering his ends, in one Peter Crimpton, a somewhat faded and rather
+disreputable member of the learned profession. It is said of Crimpton,
+that he is clever at managing cases where oppression rather than justice
+is sought, and that his present client furnishes the larger half of his
+practice.</p>
+
+<p>And while Maria, too sensitive to face the gaze of the coarse crowd,
+pauses without, silent and anxious, listening one moment and hoping the
+next will see her old father restored to her, the adroit Crimpton rises
+to object to "the Schedule." To the end that he may substantiate his
+objections, he proposes to examine the prisoner. Having no alternative,
+the Commissioner grants the request.</p>
+
+<p>The old Antiquary made out his schedule with the aid of the good-hearted
+jailer, who inserted as his effects, "<i>Necessary wearing apparel</i>." It
+was all he had. Like the gallant Fremont, when he offered to resign his
+shirts to his chivalric creditor, he could give them no more. A few
+questions are put; the old man answers them with childlike simplicity,
+then sits down, his trembling fingers wandering into his beard. Mr.
+Crimpton produces his paper, sets forth his objections, and asks
+permission to file them, that the case may come before a jury of
+"Special Bail."</p>
+
+<p>Permission is granted. The reader will not fail to discover the object
+of this procedure. Keepum hopes to continue the old man in prison, that
+he may succeed in breaking down the proud spirit of his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>The Commissioner listens attentively to the reading of the objections.
+The first sets forth that Mr. McArthur has a gold watch;<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> the second,
+that he has a valuable breastpin, said to have been worn by Lord
+Cornwallis; and the third, that he has one Yorick's skull. All of these,
+Mr. Crimpton regrets to say, are withheld from the schedule, which
+virtually constitutes fraud. The facile Commissioner bows; the assembled
+crowd look on unmoved; but the old man shakes his head and listens. He
+is surprised to find himself accused of fraud; but the law gives him no
+power to show his own innocence. The Judge of the Sessions was competent
+to decide the question now raised, and to have prevented this reverting
+to a "special jury"&mdash;this giving the vindictive plaintiff a means of
+torturing his infirm victim. Had he but listened to the old man's tale
+of poverty, he might have saved the heart of that forlorn girl many a
+bitter pang.</p>
+
+<p>The motion granted, a day is appointed&mdash;ten days must elapse&mdash;for a
+hearing before the Commissioner of "Special Bail," and his special jury.
+The rosy-faced functionary, being a jolly and somewhat flexible sort of
+man, must needs give his health an airing in the country. What is the
+liberty of a poor white with us? Our Governor, whom we esteem singularly
+sagacious, said it were better all our poor were enslaved, and this
+opinion finds high favor with our first families. The worthy
+Commissioner, in addition to taking care of his health, is expected to
+make any number of speeches, full of wind and war, to several recently
+called Secession Conventions. He will find time (being a General by
+courtesy) to review the up-country militia, and the right and left
+divisions of the South Carolina army. He will be feted by some few of
+our most distinguished Generals, and lecture before the people of
+Beaufort (a very noisy town of forty-two inhabitants, all heroes), to
+whom he will prove the necessity of our State providing itself with an
+independent steam navy.</p>
+
+<p>The old Antiquary is remanded back to jail&mdash;to wait the coming day.
+Maria, almost breathless with anxiety, runs to him as he comes tottering
+out of Court in advance of the official, lays her trembling hand upon
+his arm, and looks inquiringly in his face. "Oh! my father, my
+father!&mdash;released? released?" she inquires, with quivering lips and
+throbbing heart. A forced smile plays over his time-worn face, he looks
+upward, shakes his head in sorrow, and having patted her affectionately
+on the shoulder, throws his arms about her neck and kisses her. That
+mute appeal, that melancholy voucher of his sorrows, knells the painful
+answer in her ears, "Then you are not free to come with me? Oh, father,
+father!" and she wrings her hands and gives vent to her tears.</p>
+
+<p>"The time will come, my daughter, when my Judge will hear me&mdash;will judge
+me right. My time will come soon&mdash;" And here the old man pauses, and
+chokes with his emotions. Maria returns the old man's kiss, and being
+satisfied that he is yet in the hands of his oppressors, sets about
+cheering up his drooping spirits. "Don't think of me, father," she
+says&mdash;"don't think of me! Let us put our trust in Him who can shorten
+the days of our tribulation." She takes the old man's arm, and like one
+who would forget her own troubles in her anxiety to relieve another,
+supports him on his way back to prison.</p>
+
+<p>It is high noon. She stands before the prison gate, now glancing at the
+serene sky, then at the cold, frowning walls, and again at the old pile,
+as if contemplating the wearying hours he must pass within it. "Don't
+repine&mdash;nerve yourself with resolution, and all will be well!" Having
+said this with an air of confidence in herself, she throws her arms
+about the old man's neck, presses him to her bosom, kisses and kisses
+his wrinkled cheek, then grasps his hand warmly in her own. "Forget
+those who persecute you, for it is good. Look above, father&mdash;to Him who
+tempers the winds, who watches over the weak, and gives the victory to
+the right!" She pauses, as the old man holds her hand in silence. "This
+life is but a transient sojourn at best; full of hopes and fears, that,
+like a soldier's dream, pass away when the battle is ended." Again she
+fondly shakes his hand, lisps a sorrowing "good-bye," watches him, in
+silence, out of sight, then turns away in tears, and seeks her home.
+There is something so pure, so earnest in her solicitude for the old
+man, that it seems more of heaven than earth.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>A STORY WITHOUT WHICH THIS HISTORY WOULD BE FOUND WANTING.</p>
+
+
+<p>On taking leave of her father, Maria, her heart overburdened with grief,
+and her mind abstracted, turned towards the Battery, and continued,
+slowly and sadly, until she found herself seated beneath a tree, looking
+out upon the calm bay. Here, scarce conscious of those who were
+observing her in their sallies, she mused until dusky evening, when the
+air seemed hushed, and the busy hum of day was dying away in the
+distance. The dark woodland on the opposite bank gave a bold border to
+the soft picture; the ships rode sluggishly upon the polished waters;
+the negro's touching song echoed and re-echoed along the shore; and the
+boatman's chorus broke upon the stilly air in strains so dulcet. And as
+the mellow shadows of night stole over the scene&mdash;as the heavens looked
+down in all their sereneness, and the stars shone out, and twinkled, and
+laughed, and danced upon the blue waters, and coquetted with the
+moonbeams&mdash;for the moon was up, and shedding a halo of mystic light over
+the scene&mdash;making night merry, nature seemed speaking to Maria in words
+of condolence. Her heart was touched, her spirits gained strength, her
+soul seemed in a loftier and purer atmosphere.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor, but virtuous&mdash;virtue ennobles the poor. Once gone, the world
+never gives it back!" she muses, and is awakened from her reverie by a
+sweet, sympathizing voice, whispering in her ear. "Woman! you are in
+trouble,&mdash;linger no longer here, or you will fall into the hands of your
+enemies." She looks up, and there stands at her side a young female,
+whose beauty the angels might envy. The figure came upon her so suddenly
+that she hesitates for a reply to the admonition.</p>
+
+<p>"Take this, it will do something toward relieving your wants (do not
+open it now), and with this (she places a stiletto in her hand) you can
+strike down the one who attempts your virtue. Nay, remember that while
+you cling to that, you are safe&mdash;lose it, and you are gone forever. Your
+troubles will soon end; mine are for a life-time. Yours find a
+relaxation in your innocence; mine is seared into my heart with my own
+shame. It is guilt&mdash;shame! that infuses into the heart that poison, for
+which years of rectitude afford no antidote. Go quickly&mdash;get from this
+lone place! You are richer than me." She slips something into Maria's
+hand, and suddenly disappears.</p>
+
+<p>Maria rises from her seat, intending to follow the stranger, but she is
+out of sight. Who can this mysterious messenger, this beautiful stranger
+be? Maria muses. A thought flashes across her mind; it is she who sought
+our house at midnight, when my father revealed her dark future! "Yes,"
+she says to herself, "it is the same lovely face; how oft it has flitted
+in my fancy!"</p>
+
+<p>She reaches her home only to find its doors closed against her. A
+ruthless landlord has taken her all, and forced her into the street.</p>
+
+<p>You may shut out the sterner sex without involving character or inviting
+insult; but with woman the case is very different. However pure her
+character, to turn her into the street, is to subject her to a stigma,
+if not to fasten upon her a disgrace. You may paint, in your
+imagination, the picture of a woman in distress, but you can know little
+of the heart-achings of the sufferer. The surface only reflects the
+faint gleams, standing out here and there like the lesser objects upon a
+dark canvas.</p>
+
+<p>Maria turns reluctantly from that home of so many happy associations, to
+wander about the streets and by-ways of the city. The houses of the rich
+seem frowning upon her; her timid nature tells her they have no doors
+open to her. The haunts of the poor, at this moment, infuse a sanguine
+joyousness into her soul. How glad would she be, if they did but open to
+her. Is not the Allwise, through the beauties of His works, holding her
+up, while man only is struggling to pull her down?</p>
+
+<p>And while Maria wanders homeless about the streets of Charleston, we
+must beg you, gentle reader, to accompany us into one of the great
+thoroughfares of London, where is being enacted a scene appertaining to
+this history.</p>
+
+<p>It is well-nigh midnight, the hour when young London is most astir in
+his favorite haunts; when ragged and well-starved flower-girls, issuing
+from no one knows where, beset your path through Trafalgar and Liecester
+squares, and pierce your heart with their pleadings; when the Casinoes
+of the Haymarket and Picadilly are vomiting into the streets their frail
+but richly-dressed women; when gaudy supper-rooms, reeking of lobster
+and bad liquor, are made noisy with the demands of their
+flauntily-dressed customers; when little girls of thirteen are dodging
+in and out of mysterious courts and passages leading to and from
+Liecester square; when wily cabmen, ranged around the "great globe,"
+importune you for a last fare; and when the aristocratic swell, with
+hectic face and maudlin laugh, saunters from his club-room to seek
+excitement in the revels at Vauxhall.</p>
+
+<p>A brown mist hangs over the dull area of Trafalgar square. The bells of
+old St. Martin's church have chimed merrily out their last night peal;
+the sharp voice of the omnibus conductor no longer offends the ear; the
+tiny little fountains have ceased to give out their green water; and the
+lights of the Union Club on one side, and Morley's hotel on the other,
+throw pale shadows into the open square.</p>
+
+<p>The solitary figure of a man, dressed in the garb of a gentleman, is
+seen sauntering past Northumberland house, then up the east side of the
+square. Now he halts at the corner of old St. Martin's church, turns and
+contemplates the scene before him. On his right is that squatty mass of
+freestone and smoke, Englishmen exultingly call the Royal Academy, but
+which Frenchmen affect contempt for, and uninitiated Americans mistake
+for a tomb. An equestrian statue of one of the Georges rises at the east
+corner; Morley's Hotel, where Americans get poor fare and enormous
+charges, with the privilege of fancying themselves quite as good as the
+queen, on the left; the dead walls of Northumberland House, with their
+prisonlike aspect, and the mounted lion, his tail high in air, and quite
+as rigid as the Duke's dignity, in front; the opening that terminates
+the Strand, and gives place to Parliament street, at the head of which
+an equestrian statue of Charles the First, much admired by Englishmen,
+stands, his back on Westminster; the dingy shops of Spring Garden, and
+the Union Club to the right; and, towering high over all, Nelson's
+Column, the statue looking as if it had turned its back in pity on the
+little fountains, to look with contempt, first upon the bronze face of
+the unfortunate Charles, then upon Parliament, whose parsimony in
+withholding justice from his daughter, he would rebuke&mdash;and the picture
+is complete.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger turns, walks slowly past the steps of St. Martin's church,
+crosses to the opposite side of the street, and enters a narrow, wet,
+and dimly-lighted court, on the left. Having passed up a few paces, he
+finds himself hemmed in between the dead walls of St. Martin's
+"Work-house" on one side, and the Royal Academy on the other. He
+hesitates between fear and curiosity. The dull, sombre aspect of the
+court is indeed enough to excite the fears of the timid; but curiosity
+being the stronger impulse, he proceeds, resolved to explore it&mdash;to see
+whence it leads.</p>
+
+<p>A short turn to the right, and he has reached the front wall of the
+Queen's Barracks, on his left, and the entrance to the "Work-house," on
+his right; the one overlooking the other, and separated by a narrow
+street. Leave men are seen reluctantly returning in at the night-gate;
+the dull tramp of the sentinel within sounds ominously on the still air;
+and the chilly atmosphere steals into the system. Again the stranger
+pauses, as if questioning the safety of his position. Suddenly a low
+moan grates upon his ear, he starts back, then listens. Again it rises,
+in a sad wail, and pierces his very heart. His first thought is, that
+some tortured mortal is bemoaning his bruises in a cell of the
+"Work-house," which he mistakes for a prison. But his eyes fall to the
+ground, and his apprehensions are dispelled.</p>
+
+<p>The doors of the "Work-house" are fast closed; but there, huddled along
+the cold pavement, and lying crouched upon its doorsteps, in heaps that
+resemble the gatherings of a rag-seller, are four-and-thirty shivering,
+famishing, and homeless human beings&mdash;<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> (mostly young girls and aged
+women), who have sought at this "institution of charity" shelter for the
+night, and bread to appease their hunger.<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> Alas! its ruthless keepers
+have refused them bread, shut them into the street, and left them in
+rags scarce sufficient to cover their nakedness, to sleep upon the cold
+stones, a mute but terrible rebuke to those hearts that bleed over the
+sorrows of Africa, but have no blood to give out when the object of pity
+is a poor, heart-sick girl, forced to make the cold pavement her bed.
+The stranger shudders. "Are these heaps of human beings?" he questions
+within himself, doubting the reality before him. As if counting and
+hesitating what course to pursue for their relief, he paces up and down
+the grotesque mass, touching one, and gazing upon the haggard features
+of another, who looks up to see what it is that disturbs her. Again the
+low moan breaks on his ear, as the sentinel cries the first hour of
+morning. The figure of a female, her head resting on one of the steps,
+moves, a trembling hand steals from under her shawl, makes an effort to
+reach her head, and falls numb at her side. "Her hand is cold&mdash;her
+breathing like one in death&mdash;oh! God!&mdash;how terrible&mdash;what, what am I to
+do?" he says, taking the sufferer's hand in his own. Now he rubs it, now
+raises her head, makes an effort to wake a few of the miserable
+sleepers, and calls aloud for help. "Help! help! help!" he shouts, and
+the shout re-echoes through the air and along the hollow court. "A woman
+is dying,&mdash;dying here on the cold stones&mdash;with no one to raise a hand
+for her!" He seizes the exhausted woman in his arms, and with herculean
+strength rushes up the narrow street, in the hope of finding relief at
+the Gin Palace he sees at its head, in a blaze of light. But the body is
+seized with spasms, an hollow, hysteric wail follows, his strength gives
+way under the burden, and he sets the sufferer down in the shadow of a
+gas light. Her dress, although worn threadbare, still bears evidence of
+having belonged to one who has enjoyed comfort, and, perhaps, luxury.
+Indeed, there is something about the woman which bespeaks her not of the
+class generally found sleeping on the steps of St. Martin's Work-house.</p>
+
+<p>"What's here to do?" gruffly inquires a policeman, coming up with an air
+of indifference. The stranger says the woman is dying. The policeman
+stoops down, lays his hand upon her temples, then mechanically feels her
+arms and hands.</p>
+
+<p>"And I&mdash;must die&mdash;die&mdash;die in the street," whispers the woman, her head
+falling carelessly from the policeman's hand, in which it had rested.</p>
+
+<p>"Got her a bit below, at the Work'ouse door, among them wot sleeps
+there, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>The stranger says he did.</p>
+
+<p>"A common enough thing," pursues the policeman; "this a bad lot. Anyhow,
+we must give her a tow to the station." He rubs his hands, and prepares
+to raise her from the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold! hold," interrupts the other, "she will die ere you get her
+there."</p>
+
+<p>"Die,&mdash;ah! yes, yes," whispers the woman. The mention of death seems to
+have wrung like poison into her very soul. "Don't&mdash;don't move me&mdash;the
+spell is almost broken. Oh! how can I die here, a wretch. Yes, I am
+going now&mdash;let me rest, rest, rest," the moaning supplicant mutters in a
+guttural voice, grasps spasmodically at the policeman's hand, heaves a
+deep sigh, and sets her eyes fixedly upon the stranger. She seems
+recognizing in his features something that gives her strength.</p>
+
+<p>"There&mdash;there&mdash;there!" she continues, incoherently, as a fit of
+hysterics seize upon her; "you, you, you, have&mdash;yes, you have come at
+the last hour, when my sufferings close. I see devils all about
+me&mdash;haunting me&mdash;torturing my very soul&mdash;burning me up! See them! see
+them!&mdash;here they come&mdash;tearing, worrying me&mdash;in a cloud of flame!" She
+clutches with her hands, her countenance fills with despair, and her
+body writhes in agony.</p>
+
+<p>"Bring brandy! warm,&mdash;stimulant! anything to give her strength! Quick!
+quick!&mdash;go fetch it, or she is gone!" stammers out the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>In another minute she calms away, and sinks exhausted upon the pavement.
+Policeman shakes his head, and says, "It 'ont do no good&mdash;she's done
+for."</p>
+
+<p>The light of the "Trumpeter's Arms" still blazes into the street, while
+a few greasy ale-bibbers sit moody about the tap-room.</p>
+
+<p>The two men raise the exhausted woman from the ground and carry her to
+the door. Mine host of the Trumpeter's Arms shrugs his shoulders and
+says, "She can't come in here." He fears she will damage the
+respectability of his house. "The Work-house is the place for her," he
+continues, gruffly.</p>
+
+<p>A sight at the stranger's well-filled purse, however, and a few
+shillings slipped into the host's hand, secures his generosity and the
+woman's admittance. "Indeed," says the host, bowing most servilely,
+"gentlemen, the whole Trumpeter's Arms is at your service." The woman is
+carried into a lonely, little back room, and laid upon a cot, which,
+with two wooden chairs, constitutes its furniture. And while the
+policeman goes in search of medical aid, the host of the Trumpeter's
+bestirs himself right manfully in the forthcoming of a stimulant. The
+stranger, meanwhile, lends himself to the care of the forlorn sufferer
+with the gentleness of a woman. He smoothes her pillow, arranges her
+dress tenderly, and administers the stimulant with a hand accustomed to
+the sick.</p>
+
+<p>A few minutes pass, and the woman seems to revive and brighten up. Mine
+host has set a light on the chair, at the side of the cot, and left her
+alone with the stranger. Slowly she opens her eyes, and with increasing
+anxiety sets them full upon him. Their recognition is mutual. "Madame
+Flamingo!" ejaculates the man, grasping her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Tom Swiggs!" exclaims the woman, burying her face for a second, then
+pressing his hand to her lips, and kissing it with the fondness of a
+child, as her eyes swim in tears. "How strange to find you thus&mdash;"
+continues Tom, for truly it is he who sits by the forlorn woman.</p>
+
+<p>"More strange," mutters the woman, shaking her head sorrowfully, "that I
+should be brought to this terrible end. I am dying&mdash;I cannot last
+long&mdash;the fever has left me only to die a neglected wretch. Hear
+me&mdash;hear me, while I tell you the tale of my troubles, that others may
+take warning. And may God give me strength. And you&mdash;if I have wronged
+you, forgive me&mdash;it is all I can ask in this world." Here Tom
+administers another draught of warm brandy and water, the influence of
+which is soon perceptible in the regaining strength of the patient.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>A STORY WITH MANY COUNTERPARTS.</p>
+
+
+<p>A very common story is this of Madame Flamingo's troubles. It has
+counterparts enough, and though they may be traced to a class of society
+less notorious than that with which she moved, are generally kept in the
+dark chamber of hidden thoughts. We are indeed fast gaining an
+unenviable fame for snobbery, for affecting to be what we never can be,
+and for our sad imitation of foreign flunkydom, which, finding us rivals
+in the realm of its tinsil, begins to button up its coat and look
+contemptuously at us over the left shoulder. If, albeit, the result of
+that passion for titles and plush (things which the empty-headed of the
+old world would seem to have consigned to the empty-headed of the new),
+which has of late so singularly discovered itself among our "best-known
+families," could be told, it would unfold many a tale of misery and
+betrayal. Pardon this digression, generous reader, and proceed with us
+to the story of Madame Flamingo.</p>
+
+<p>"And now," says the forlorn woman, in a faint, hollow voice, "when my
+ambition seemed served&mdash;I was ambitious, perhaps vain&mdash;I found myself
+the victim of an intrigue. I ask forgiveness of Him who only can forgive
+the wicked; but how can I expect to gain it?" She presses Tom's hand,
+and pauses for a second. "Yes, I was ambitious," she continues, "and
+there was something I wanted. I had money enough to live in comfort,
+but the thought that it was got of vice and the ruin of others, weighed
+me down. I wanted the respect of the world. To die a forgotten wretch;
+to have the grave close over me, and if remembered at all, only with
+execration, caused me many a dark thought." Here she struggles to
+suppress her emotions. "I sought to change my condition; that, you see,
+has brought me here. I married one to whom I intrusted my all, in whose
+rank, as represented to me by Mr. Snivel, and confirmed by his friend,
+the Judge, I confided. I hoped to move with him to a foreign country,
+where the past would all be wiped out, and where the associations of
+respectable society would be the reward of future virtue.</p>
+
+<p>"In London, where I now reap the fruits of my vanity, we enjoyed good
+society for a time, were sought after, and heaped with attentions. But I
+met those who had known me; it got out who I was; I was represented much
+worse than I was, and even those who had flattered me in one sphere, did
+not know me. In Paris it was the same. And there my husband said it
+would not do to be known by his titles, for, being an exile, it might be
+the means of his being recognized and kidnapped, and carried back a
+prisoner to his own dear Poland. In this I acquiesced, as I did in
+everything else that lightened his cares. Gradually he grew cold and
+morose towards me, left me for days at a time, and returned only to
+abuse and treat me cruelly. He had possession of all my money, which I
+soon found he was gambling away, without gaining an entr&eacute;e for me into
+society.</p>
+
+<p>"From Paris we travelled, as if without any settled purpose, into Italy,
+and from thence to Vienna, where I discovered that instead of being a
+prince, my husband was an impostor, and I his dupe. He had formerly
+been a crafty shoemaker; was known to the police as a notorious
+character, who, instead of having been engaged in the political
+struggles of his countrymen, had fled the country to escape the penalty
+of being the confederate of a desperate gang of coiners and
+counterfeiters. We had only been two days in Vienna when I found he had
+disappeared, and left me destitute of money or friends. My connection
+with him only rendered my condition more deplorable, for the police
+would not credit my story; and while he eluded its vigilance, I was
+suspected of being a spy in the confidence of a felon, and ruthlessly
+ordered to leave the country."</p>
+
+<p>"Did not your passport protect you?" interrupts Tom, with evident
+feeling.</p>
+
+<p>"No one paid it the least regard," resumes Madame Flamingo, becoming
+weaker and weaker. "No one at our legations evinced sympathy for me.
+Indeed, they all refused to believe my story. I wandered back from city
+to city, selling my wardrobe and the few jewels I had left, and
+confidently expecting to find in each place I entered, some one I had
+known, who would listen to my story, and supply me with means to reach
+my home. I could soon have repaid it, but my friends had gone with my
+money; no one dare venture to trust me&mdash;no one had confidence in
+me&mdash;every one to whom I appealed had an excuse that betrayed their
+suspicion of me. Almost destitute, I found myself back in London&mdash;how I
+got here, I scarce know&mdash;where I could make myself understood. My hopes
+now brightened, I felt that some generous-hearted captain would give me
+a passage to New York, and once home, my troubles would end. But being
+worn down with fatigue, and my strength prostrated, a fever set in, and
+I was forced to seek refuge in a miserable garret in Drury-Lane, and
+where I parted with all but what now remains on my back, to procure
+nourishment. I had begun to recover somewhat, but the malady left me
+broken down, and when all was gone, I was turned into the street. Yes,
+yes, yes, (she whispers,) they gave me to the streets; for twenty-four
+hours I have wandered without nourishment, or a place to lay my head. I
+sought shelter in a dark court, and there laid down to die; and when my
+eyes were dim, and all before me seemed mysterious and dark with curious
+visions, a hand touched me, and I felt myself borne away." Here her
+voice chokes, she sinks back upon the pillow, and closes her eyes as her
+hands fall careless at her side. "She breathes! she breathes yet!" says
+Tom, advancing his ear to the pale, quivering lips of the wretched
+woman. Now he bathes her temples with the vinegar from a bottle in the
+hand of the host, who is just entered, and stands looking on, his
+countenance full of alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"If she deys in my 'ouse, good sir, w'oat then?"</p>
+
+<p>"You mean the expense?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just so&mdash;it 'll be nae trifle, ye kno'!" The host shakes his head,
+doubtingly. Tom begs he will not be troubled about that, and gives
+another assurance from his purse that quite relieves the host's
+apprehensions. A low, heavy breathing, followed by a return of spasms,
+bespeaks the sinking condition of the sufferer. The policeman returns,
+preceded by a physician&mdash;the only one to be got at, he says&mdash;in very
+dilapidated broadcloth, and whose breath is rather strong of gin. "An'
+whereabutes did ye pick the woman up,&mdash;an, an, wha's teu stond the
+bill?" he inquires, in a deep Scotch brogue, then ordering the little
+window opened, feels clumsily the almost pulseless hand. Encouraged on
+the matter of his bill, he turns first to the host, then to Tom, and
+says, "the wuman's nae much, for she's amast dede wi' exhaustion." And
+while he is ordering a nostrum he knows can do no good, the woman makes
+a violent struggle, opens her eyes, and seems casting a last glance
+round the dark room. Now she sets them fixedly upon the ceiling, her
+lips pale, and her countenance becomes spectre-like&mdash;a low, gurgling
+sound is heard, the messenger of retribution is come&mdash;Madame Flamingo is
+dead!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XL.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>IN WHICH THE LAW IS SEEN TO CONFLICT WITH OUR CHERISHED CHIVALRY.</p>
+
+
+<p>"What could the woman mean, when on taking leave of me she said, 'you
+are far richer than me?'" questions Maria McArthur to herself, when,
+finding she is alone and homeless in the street, she opens the packet
+the woman Anna slipped so mysteriously into her hand, and finds it
+contains two twenty-dollar gold pieces. And while evolving in her mind
+whether she shall appropriate them to the relief of her destitute
+condition, her conscience smites her. It is the gold got of vice. Her
+heart shares the impulse that prompted the act, but her pure spirit
+recoils from the acceptance of such charity. "You are far richer than
+me!" knells in her ears, and reveals to her the heart-burnings of the
+woman who lives in licentious splendor. "I have no home, no friend near
+me, and nowhere to lay my head; and yet I am richer than her;" she says,
+gazing at the moon, and the stars, and the serene heavens. And the
+contemplation brings to her consolation and strength. She wanders back
+to the gate of the old prison, resolved to return the gold in the
+morning, and, was the night not so far spent, ask admittance into the
+cell her father occupies. But she reflects, and turns away; well knowing
+how much more painful will be the smart of his troubles does she
+disclose to him what has befallen her.</p>
+
+<p>She continues sauntering up a narrow by-lane in the outskirts of the
+city. A light suddenly flashes across her path, glimmers from the window
+of a little cabin, and inspires her with new hopes. She quickens her
+steps, reaches the door, meets a welcome reception, and is made
+comfortable for the night by the mulatto woman who is its solitary
+tenant. The woman, having given Maria of her humble cheer, seems only
+too anxious to disclose the fact that she is the slave and cast-off
+mistress of Judge Sleepyhorn, on whose head she invokes no few curses.
+It does not touch her pride so much that he has abandoned her, as that
+he has taken to himself one of another color. She is tall and straight
+of figure, with prominent features, long, silky black hair, and a rich
+olive complexion; and though somewhat faded of age, it is clear that she
+possessed in youth charms of great value in the flesh market.</p>
+
+<p>Maria discloses to her how she came in possession of the money, as also
+her resolve to return it in the morning. Undine (for such is her name)
+applauds this with great gusto. "Now, thar!" she says, "that's the
+spirit I likes." And straightway she volunteers to be the medium of
+returning the money, adding that she will show the hussy her contempt of
+her by throwing it at her feet, and "letting her see a <i>slave</i> knows all
+about it."</p>
+
+<p>Maria fully appreciates the kindness, as well as sympathizes with the
+wounded pride of this slave daughter; nevertheless, there is an
+humiliation in being driven to seek shelter in a negro cabin that
+touches her feelings. For a white female to seek shelter under the roof
+of a negro's cabin, is a deep disgrace in the eyes of our very refined
+society; and having subjected herself to the humiliation, she knows full
+well that it may be used against her&mdash;in fine, made a means to defame
+her character.</p>
+
+<p>Night passes away, and the morning ushers in soft and sunny, but brings
+with it nothing to relieve her situation. She, however, returns the gold
+to Anna through a channel less objectionable than that Undine would have
+supplied, and sallies out to seek lodgings. In a house occupied by a
+poor German family, she seeks and obtains a little room, wherein she
+continues plying at her needle.</p>
+
+<p>The day set apart for the trial before a jury of "special bail" arrives.
+The rosy-faced commissioner is in his seat, a very good-natured jury is
+impanelled, and the feeble old man is again brought into court. Maria
+saunters, thoughtful, and anxious for the result, at the outer door.
+Peter Crimpton rises, addresses the jury at great length, sets forth the
+evident intention of fraud on the part of the applicant, and the
+enormity of the crime. He will now prove his objections by competent
+witnesses. The proceedings being in accordance with what Mr. Snivel
+facetiously terms the strict rules of special pleading, the old man's
+lips are closed. Several very respectable witnesses are called, and aver
+they saw the old Antiquary with a gold watch mounted, at a recent date;
+witnesses quite as dependable aver they have known him for many years,
+but never mounted with anything so extravagant as a gold watch. So much
+for the validity of testimony! It is very clear that the very
+respectable witnesses have confounded some one else with the prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>The Antiquary openly confesses to the possession of a pin, and the
+curious skull (neither of which are valuable beyond their associations),
+but declares it more an oversight than an intention that they were left
+out of the schedule. For the virtue of the schedule, Mr. Crimpton is
+singularly scrupulous; nor does it soften his aspersions that the old
+man offers to resign them for the benefit of the State. Mr. Crimpton
+gives his case to the jury, expressing his belief that a verdict will be
+rendered in his favor. A verdict of guilty (for so it is rendered in our
+courts) will indeed give the prisoner to him for an indefinite period.
+In truth, the only drawback is that the plaintiff will be required to
+pay thirty cents a day to Mr. Hardscrabble, who will starve him rightly
+soundly.</p>
+
+<p>The jury, very much to Mr. Crimpton's chagrin, remain seated, and
+declare the prisoner not guilty. Was this sufficient&mdash;all the law
+demanded? No. Although justice might have been satisfied, the law had
+other ends to serve, and in the hands of an instrument like Crimpton,
+could be turned to uses delicacy forbids our transcribing here. The old
+man's persecutors were not satisfied; the verdict of the jury was with
+him, but the law gave his enemies power to retain him six months longer.
+Mr. Crimpton demands a writ of appeal to the sessions. The Commissioner
+has no alternative, notwithstanding the character of the pretext upon
+which it is demanded is patent on its face. Such is but a feeble
+description of one of the many laws South Carolina retains on her
+statute book to oppress the poor and give power to the rich. If we would
+but purge ourselves of this distemper of chivalry and secession, that so
+blinds our eyes to the sufferings of the poor, while driving our
+politicians mad over the country (we verily believe them all coming to
+the gallows or insane hospital), how much higher and nobler would be our
+claim to the respect of the world!</p>
+
+<p>Again the old man is separated from his daughter, placed in the hands of
+a bailiff, and remanded back to prison, there to hope, fear, and while
+away the time, waiting six, perhaps eight months, for the sitting of the
+Court of Appeals. The "Appeal Court," you must know, would seem to have
+inherited the aristocracy of our ancestors, for, having a great aversion
+to business pursuits, it sits at very long intervals, and gets through
+very little business.</p>
+
+<p>When the news of her father's remand reaches Maria, it overwhelms her
+with grief. Varied are her thoughts of how she shall provide for the
+future; dark and sad are the pictures of trouble that rise up before
+her. Look whichever way she will, her ruin seems sealed. The health of
+her aged father is fast breaking&mdash;her own is gradually declining under
+the pressure of her troubles. Rapidly forced from one extreme to
+another, she appeals to a few acquaintances who have expressed
+friendship for her father; but their friendship took wings when grim
+poverty looked in. Southern hospitality, though bountifully bestowed
+upon the rich, rarely condescends to shed its bright rays over the needy
+poor.</p>
+
+<p>Maria advertises for a situation, in some of our first families, as
+private seamstress. Our first families having slaves for such offices,
+have no need of "poor white trash." She applies personally to several
+ladies of "eminent standing," and who busy themselves in getting up
+donations for northern Tract Societies. They have no sympathy to waste
+upon her. Her appeal only enlists coldness and indifference. The "Church
+Home" had lent an ear to her story, but that her address is very
+unsatisfactory, and it is got out that she is living a very suspicious
+life. The "Church Home," so virtuous and pious, can do nothing for her
+until she improves her mode of living. Necessity pinches Maria at every
+turn. "To be poor in a slave atmosphere, is truly a crime," she says to
+herself, musing over her hard lot, while sitting in her chamber one
+evening. "But I am the richer! I will rise above all!" She has just
+prepared to carry some nourishment to her father, when Keepum enters,
+his face flushed, and his features darkened with a savage scowl. "I have
+said you were a fool&mdash;all women are fools!&mdash;and now I know I was not
+mistaken!" This Mr. Keepum says while throwing his hat sullenly upon the
+floor. "Well," he pursues, having seated himself in a chair, looked
+designingly at the candle, then contorted his narrow face, and frisked
+his fingers through his bright red hair, "as to this here wincing and
+mincing&mdash;its all humbuggery of a woman like you. Affecting such morals!
+Don't go down here; tell you that, my spunky girl. Loose morals is what
+takes in poor folks."</p>
+
+<p>Maria answers him only with a look of scorn. She advances to the door to
+find it locked.</p>
+
+<p>"It was me&mdash;I locked it. Best to be private about the matter," says
+Keepum, a forced smile playing over his countenance.</p>
+
+<p>Unresolved whether to give vent to her passion, or make an effort to
+inspire his better nature, she stands a few moments, as if immersed in
+deep thought, then suddenly falls upon her knees at his feet, and
+implores him to save her this last step to her ruin. "Hear me, oh, hear
+me, and let your heart give out its pity for one who has only her virtue
+left her in this world;" she appeals to him with earnest voice, and eyes
+swimming in tears. "Save my father, for you have power. Give him his
+liberty, that I, his child, his only comfort in his old age, may make
+him happy. Yes! yes!&mdash;he will die where he is. Will you, can you&mdash;you
+have a heart&mdash;see me struggle against the rude buffets of an unthinking
+world! Will you not save me from the Poor-house&mdash;from the shame that
+awaits me with greedy clutches, and receive in return the blessing of a
+friendless woman! Oh!&mdash;you will, you will&mdash;release my father!&mdash;give him
+back to me and make me happy. Ah, ha!&mdash;I see, I see, you have feelings,
+better feelings&mdash;feelings that are not seared. You will have pity on me;
+you will forgive, relent&mdash;you cannot see a wretch suffer and not be
+moved to lighten her pain!" The calm, pensive expression that lights up
+her countenance is indeed enough to inspire the tender impulses of a
+heart in which every sense of generosity is not dried up.</p>
+
+<p>Her appeal, nevertheless, falls ineffectual. Mr. Keepum has no generous
+impulses to bestow upon beings so sensitive of their virtue. With him,
+it is a ware of very little value, inasmuch as the moral standard fixed
+by a better class of people is quite loose. He rises from his chair with
+an air of self-confidence, seizes her by the hand, and attempts to drag
+her upon his knee, saying, "you know I can and will make you a lady.
+Upon the honor of a gentleman, I love you&mdash;always have loved you; but
+what stands in the way, and is just enough to make any gentleman of my
+standing mad, is this here squeamishness&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No! no! go from me. Attempt not again to lay your cruel hands upon me!"
+The goaded woman struggles from his grasp, and shrieks for help at the
+very top of her voice. And as the neighbors come rushing up stairs, Mr.
+Keepum valorously betakes himself into the street. Maddened with
+disappointment, and swearing to have revenge, he seeks his home, and
+there muses over the "curious woman's" unswerving resolution. "Cruelty!"
+he says to himself&mdash;"she charges me with cruelty! Well," (here he sighs)
+"it's only because she lacks a bringing up that can appreciate a
+gentleman." (Keepum could never condescend to believe himself less than
+a very fine gentleman.) "As sure as the world the creature is somewhat
+out in the head. She fancies all sorts of things&mdash;shame, disgrace, and
+ruin!&mdash;only because she don't understand the quality of our
+morality&mdash;that's all! There's no harm, after all, in these little
+enjoyments&mdash;if the girl would only understand them so. Our society is
+free from pedantry; and there&mdash;no damage can result where no one's the
+wiser. It's like stealing a blush from the cheek of beauty&mdash;nobody
+misses it, and the cheek continues as beautiful as ever." Thus
+philosophizes the chivalric gentleman, until he falls into a fast
+sleep.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLI.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>IN WHICH JUSTICE IS SEEN TO BE VERY ACCOMMODATING.</p>
+
+
+<p>A few days have elapsed, Maria has just paid a visit to her father,
+still in prison, and may be seen looking in at Mr. Keepum's office, in
+Broad street. "I come not to ask a favor, sir; but, at my father's
+request, to say to you that, having given up all he has in the world, it
+can do no good to any one to continue him in durance, and to ask of
+you&mdash;in whom the sole power rests&mdash;that you will grant him his release
+ere he dies?" She addresses Mr. Keepum, who seems not in a very good
+temper this morning, inasmuch as several of his best negroes, without
+regard to their value to him, got a passion for freedom into their
+heads, and have taken themselves away. In addition to this, he is much
+put out, as he says, at being compelled to forego the pleasure held out
+on the previous night, of tarring and feathering two northerners
+suspected of entertaining sentiments not exactly straight on the
+"peculiar question." A glorious time was expected, and a great deal of
+very strong patriotism wasted; but the two unfortunate individuals, by
+some means not yet discovered, got the vigilance committee, to whose
+care they were entrusted, very much intoxicated, and were not to be
+found when called for. Free knives, and not free speech, is our motto.
+And this Mr. Keepum is one of the most zealous in carrying out.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Keepum sits, his hair fretted back over his lean forehead, before a
+table covered with papers, all indicating an immense business in lottery
+and other speculations. Now he deposits his feet upon it; leans back in
+his chair, puffs his cigar, and says, with an air of indifference to the
+speaker: "I shall not be able to attend to any business of yours to-day,
+Madam!" His clerk, a man of sturdy figure, with a broad, red face, and
+dressed in rather dilapidated broadcloth, is passing in and out of the
+front office, bearing in his fingers documents that require a signature
+or mark of approval.</p>
+
+<p>"I only come, sir, to tell you that we are destitute&mdash;" Maria pauses,
+and stands trembling in the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>"That's a very common cry," interrupts Keepum, relieving his mouth of
+the cigar. "The affair is entirely out of my hands. Go to my attorney,
+Peter Crimpton, Esq.,&mdash;what he does for you will receive my sanction. I
+must not be interrupted to-day. I might express a thousand regrets; yes,
+pass an opinion on your foolish pride, but what good would it do."</p>
+
+<p>And while Maria stands silent and hesitating, there enters the office
+abruptly a man in the garb of a mechanic. "I have come," speaks the man,
+in a tone of no very good humor, "for the last time. I asks of you&mdash;you
+professes to be a gentleman&mdash;my honest rights. If the law don't give it
+to me, I mean to take it with this erehand." (He shakes his hand at
+Keepum.) "I am a poor man who ain't thought much of because I works for
+a living; you have got what I had worked hard for, and lain up to make
+my little family comfortable. I ask a settlement and my own&mdash;what is
+due from one honest man to another!" He now approaches the table,
+strikes his hand upon it, and pauses for a reply.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Keepum coolly looks up, and with an insidious leer, says, "There,
+take yourself into the street. When next you enter a gentleman's office,
+learn to deport yourself with good manners."</p>
+
+<p>"Pshaw! pshaw!" interrupts the man. "What mockery! When men like
+you&mdash;yes, I say men like you&mdash;that has brought ruin on so many poor
+families, can claim to be gentlemen, rogues may get a patent for their
+order." The man turns to take his departure, when the infuriated Keepum,
+who, as we have before described, gets exceedingly put out if any one
+doubts his honor, seizes an iron bar, and stealing up behind, fetches
+him a blow over the head that fells him lifeless to the floor.</p>
+
+<p>Maria shrieks, and vaults into the street. The mass upon the floor
+fetches a last agonizing shrug, and a low moan, and is dead. The
+murderer stands over him, exultant, as the blood streams from the deep
+fracture. In fine, the blood of his victim would seem rather to increase
+his satisfaction at the deed, than excite a regret.</p>
+
+<p>Call you this murder? Truly, the man has outraged God's law. And the
+lover of law and order, of social good, and moral honesty, would find
+reasons for designating the perpetrator an assassin. For has he not
+first distressed a family, and then left it bereft of its protector? You
+may think of it and designate it as you please. Nevertheless we, in our
+fancied mightiness, cannot condescend to such vulgar considerations. We
+esteem it extremely courageous of Mr. Keepum, to defend himself "to the
+death" against the insults of one of the common herd. Our first
+families applaud the act, our sensitive press say it was "an unfortunate
+affair," and by way of admonition, add that it were better working
+people be more careful how they approach gentlemen. Mr. Snivel will call
+this, the sublime quality of our chivalry. What say the jury of inquest?</p>
+
+<p>Duly weighing the high position of Mr. Keepum, and the very low
+condition of the deceased, the good-natured jury return a verdict that
+the man met his death in consequence of an accidental blow, administered
+with an iron instrument, in the hands of one Keepum. From the
+testimony&mdash;Keepum's clerk&mdash;it is believed the act was committed in
+self-defence.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Keepum, as is customary with our fine gentlemen, and like a hero (we
+will not content ourselves with making him one jot less), magnanimously
+surrenders himself to the authorities. The majesty of our laws is not
+easily offended by gentlemen of standing. Only the poor and the helpless
+slave can call forth the terrible majesty of the law, and quicken to
+action its sensitive quality. The city is shocked that Mr. Keepum is
+subjected to a night in jail, notwithstanding he has the jailer's best
+parlor, and a barricade of champaign bottles are strewn at his feet by
+flattering friends, who make night jubilant with their carousal.</p>
+
+<p>Southern society asks no repentance of him whose hands reek with the
+blood of his poor victim; southern society has no pittance for that
+family Keepum has made lick the dust in tears and sorrow. Even while we
+write&mdash;while the corpse of the murdered man, followed by a few brother
+craftsmen, is being borne to its last resting-place, the perpetrator,
+released on a paltry bail, is being regaled at a festive board. Such is
+our civilization! How had the case stood with a poor man! Could he have
+stood up against the chivalry of South Carolina, scoffed at the law, or
+bid good-natured justice close her eyes? No. He had been dragged to a
+close cell, and long months had passed ere the tardy movements of the
+law reached his case. Even then, popular opinion would have turned upon
+him, pre-judged him, and held him up as dangerous to the peace of the
+people. Yes, pliant justice would have affected great virtue, and
+getting on her high throne, never ceased her demands until he had
+expiated his crime at the gallows.</p>
+
+<p>A few weeks pass: Keepum's reputation for courage is fully endorsed, the
+Attorney-General finds nothing in the act to justify him in bringing it
+before a Grand Jury, the law is satisfied (or ought to be satisfied),
+and the rich murderer sleeps without a pang of remorse.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLII.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>IN WHICH SOME LIGHT IS THROWN ON THE PLOT OF THIS HISTORY.</p>
+
+
+<p>June, July, and August are past away, and September, with all its
+autumnal beauties, ushers in, without bringing anything to lighten the
+cares of that girl whose father yet pines in prison. She looks forward,
+hoping against hope, to the return of her lover (something tells her he
+still lives), only to feel more keenly the pangs of hope deferred.</p>
+
+<p>And now, once more, New York, we are in thy busy streets. It is a
+pleasant evening in early September. The soft rays of an autumn sun are
+tinging the western sky, and night is fast drawing her sable mantle over
+the scene. In Washington Square, near where the tiny fountain jets its
+stream into a round, grassy-bordered basin, there sits a man of middle
+stature, apparently in deep study. His dress is plain, and might be
+taken for that of either a working man, or a somewhat faded inspector of
+customs. Heedless of those passing to and fro, he sits until night
+fairly sets in, then rises, and faces towards the East. Through the
+trunks of trees he sees, and seems contemplating the gray walls of the
+University, and the bold, sombre front of the very aristocratic church
+of the Reformed Dutch.</p>
+
+<p>"Well!" he mutters to himself, resuming his seat, and again facing to
+the west, "this ere business of ourn is a great book of life&mdash;'tis that!
+Finds us in queer places; now and then mixed up curiously." He rises a
+second time, advances to a gas-light, draws a letter from his pocket,
+and scans, with an air of evident satisfaction, over the contents.
+"Umph!" he resumes, and shrugs his shoulders, "I was right on the
+address&mdash;ought to have known it without looking." Having resumed his
+seat, he returns the letter to his pocket, sits with his elbow upon his
+knee, and his head rested thoughtfully in his right hand. The picture
+before him, so calm and soft, has no attractions for him. The dusky hues
+of night, for slowly the scene darkens, seem lending a softness and
+calmness to the foliage. The weeping branches of the willow,
+interspersed here and there, as if to invest the picture with a touching
+melancholy, sway gently to and fro; the leaves of the silvery poplar
+tremble and reflect their shadows on the fresh waters; and the flitting
+gas-lights mingle their gleams, play and sport over the rippled surface,
+coquet with the tripping star-beams, then throw fantastic lights over
+the swaying foliage; and from beneath the massive branches of trees,
+there shines out, in bold relief, the marble porticoes and lintels of
+stately-looking mansions. Such is the calm grandeur of the scene, that
+one could imagine some Thalia investing it with a poetic charm the gods
+might muse over.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not quite time yet," says the man, starting suddenly to his feet.
+He again approaches a gas-light, looks attentively at his watch, then
+saunters to the corner of Fourth and Thompson streets. An old,
+dilapidated wooden building, which some friend has whitewashed into
+respectability, and looking as if it had a strong inclination to tumble
+either upon the sidewalk, or against the great trunk of a hoary-headed
+tree at the corner, arrests his attention. "Well," he says, having
+paused before it, and scanned its crooked front, "this surely is the
+house where the woman lived when she was given the child. Practice, and
+putting two things together to find what one means, is the great thing
+in our profession. Like its old tenant, the house has got down a deal.
+It's on its last legs." Again he consults his watch, and with a
+quickened step recrosses the Square, and enters &mdash;&mdash; Avenue. Now he
+halts before a spacious mansion, the front of which is high and bold,
+and deep, and of brown freestone. The fluted columns; the
+elegantly-chiselled lintels; the broad, scrolled window-frames; the
+exactly-moulded arches; the massive steps leading to the deep, vaulted
+entrance, with its doors of sombre and highly-polished walnut; and its
+bold style of architecture, so grand in its outlines,&mdash;all invest it
+with a regal air. The man casts a glance along the broad avenue, then
+into the sombre entrance of the mansion. Now he seems questioning within
+himself whether to enter or retrace his steps. One-half of the outer
+door, which is in the Italian style, with heavy fluted mouldings, stands
+ajar; while from out the lace curtains of the inner, there steals a
+faint light. The man rests his elbow on the great stone scroll of the
+guard-rail, and here we leave him for a few moments.</p>
+
+<p>The mansion, it may be well to add here, remains closed the greater part
+of the year; and when opened seems visited by few persons, and those not
+of the very highest standing in society. A broken-down politician, a
+seedy hanger-on of some "literary club," presided over by a rich, but
+very stupid tailor, and now and then a lady about whose skirts something
+not exactly straight hangs, and who has been elbowed out of fashionable
+society for her too ardent love of opera-singers, and handsome actors,
+may be seen dodging in now and then. Otherwise, the mansion would seem
+very generally deserted by the neighborhood.</p>
+
+<p>Everybody will tell you, and everybody is an individual so extremely
+busy in other people's affairs, that he ought to know, that there is
+something that hangs so like a rain-cloud about the magnificent skirts
+of those who live so secluded "in that fine old pile," (mansion,) that
+the virtuous satin of the Avenue never can be got to "mix in." Indeed,
+the Avenue generally seems to have set its face against those who reside
+in it. They enjoy none of those very grand assemblies, balls, and
+receptions, for which the Avenue is become celebrated, and yet they
+luxuriate in wealth and splendor.</p>
+
+<p>Though the head of the house seems banished by society, society makes
+her the subject of many evil reports and mysterious whisperings. The
+lady of the mansion, however, as if to retort upon her traducers, makes
+it known that she is very popular abroad, every now and then during her
+absence honoring them with mysterious clippings from foreign
+journals&mdash;all setting forth the admiration her appearance called forth
+at a grand reception given by the Earl and Countess of &mdash;&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>Society is made of inexorable metal, she thinks, for the prejudices of
+the neighborhood have not relaxed one iota with time. That she has been
+presented to kings, queens, and emperors; that she has enjoyed the
+hospitalities of foreign embassies; that she has (and she makes no
+little ado that she has) shone in the assemblies of prime ministers;
+that she has been invited to court concerts, and been the flattered of
+no end of fashionable <i>coteries</i>, serves her nothing at home. They are
+events, it must be admitted, much discussed, much wondered at, much
+regretted by those who wind themselves up in a robe of stern morality.
+In a few instances they are lamented, lest the morals and manners of
+those who make it a point to represent us abroad should reflect only the
+brown side of our society.</p>
+
+<p>As if with regained confidence, the man, whom we left at the door
+scroll, is seen slowly ascending the broad steps. He enters the vaulted
+vestibule, and having touched the great, silver bell-knob of the inner
+door, stands listening to the tinkling chimes within. A pause of several
+minutes, and the door swings cautiously open. There stands before him
+the broad figure of a fussy servant man, wedged into a livery quite like
+that worn by the servants of an English tallow-chandler, but which, it
+must be said, and said to be regretted, is much in fashion with our
+aristocracy, who, in consequence of its brightness, believe it the exact
+style of some celebrated lord. The servant receives a card from the
+visitor, and with a bow, inquires if he will wait an answer.</p>
+
+<p>"I will wait the lady's pleasure&mdash;I came by appointment," returns the
+man. And as the servant disappears up the hall, he takes a seat,
+uninvited, upon a large settee, in carved walnut. "Something mysterious
+about this whole affair!" he muses, scanning along the spacious hall,
+into the conservatory of statuary and rare plants, seen opening away at
+the extreme end. The high, vaulted roof; the bright, tesselated floor;
+the taste with which the frescoes decorating the walls are designed;
+the great winding stairs, so richly carpeted&mdash;all enhanced in beauty by
+the soft light reflected upon them from a massive chandelier of stained
+glass, inspire him with a feeling of awe. The stillness, and the air of
+grandeur pervading each object that meets his eye, reminds him of the
+halls of those medi&aelig;val castles he has read of in his youth. The servant
+returns, and makes his bow. "My leady," he says, in a strong
+Lincolnshire brogue, "'as weated ye an 'our or more."</p>
+
+<p>The visitor, evincing some nervousness, rises quickly to his feet,
+follows the servant up the hall, and is ushered into a parlor of regal
+dimensions, on the right. His eye falls upon one solitary occupant, who
+rises from a lounge of oriental richness, and advances towards him with
+an air of familiarity their conditions seem not to warrant. Having
+greeted the visitor, and bid him be seated (he takes his seat, shyly,
+beside the door), the lady resumes her seat in a magnificent chair. For
+a moment the visitor scans over the great parlor, as if moved by the
+taste and elegance of everything that meets his eye. The hand of art has
+indeed been lavishly laid on the decorations of this chamber, which
+presents a scene of luxury princes might revel in. And though the soft
+wind of whispering silks seemed lending its aid to make complete the
+enjoyment of the occupant, it might be said, in the words of Crabbe:</p>
+
+<p>
+"But oh, what storm was in that mind!"<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>The person of the lady is in harmony with the splendor of the apartment.
+Rather tall and graceful of figure, her complexion pale, yet soft and
+delicate, her features as fine and regular as ever sculptor chiselled,
+her manner gentle and womanly. In her face, nevertheless, there is an
+expression of thoughtfulness, perhaps melancholy, to which her large,
+earnest black eyes, and finely-arched brows, fringed with dark lashes,
+lend a peculiar charm. While over all there plays a shadow of languor,
+increased perhaps by the tinge of age, or a mind and heart overtaxed
+with cares.</p>
+
+<p>"I received your note, which I hastened to answer. Of course you
+received my answer. I rejoice that you have persevered, and succeeded in
+finding the object I have so long sought. Not hearing from you for so
+many weeks, I had begun to fear she had gone forever," says the lady, in
+a soft, musical voice, raising her white, delicate hand to her cheek,
+which is suffused with blushes.</p>
+
+<p>"I had myself almost given her over, for she disappeared from the
+Points, and no clue could be got of her," returns the man, pausing for a
+moment, then resuming his story. "A week ago yesterday she turned up
+again, and I got wind that she was in a place we call 'Black-beetle
+Hole'&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Black-beetle Hole!" ejaculates the lady, whom the reader will have
+discovered is no less a person than Madame Montford. Mr. Detective
+Fitzgerald is the visitor.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, there's where she's got, and it isn't much of a place, to say the
+best. But when a poor creature has no other place to get a stretch down,
+she stretches down there&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Proceed to how you found her, and what you have got from her concerning
+the child," the lady interrupts, with a deep sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," proceeds the detective, "I meets&mdash;havin' an eye out all the
+while&mdash;Sergeant Dobbs one morning&mdash;Dobbs knows every roost in the Points
+better than me!&mdash;and says he, 'Fitzgerald, that are woman, that crazy
+woman, you've been in tow of so long, has turned up. There was a row in
+Black-beetle Hole last night. I got a force and descended into the
+place, found it crammed with them half-dead kind of women and men, and
+three thieves, what wanted to have a fuss with the hag that keeps it.
+One on 'em was thrashing the poor crazy woman. They had torn all the
+rags off her back. Hows-ever, if you wants to fish her out, you'd better
+be spry about it&mdash;'"</p>
+
+<p>The lady interrupts by saying she will disguise, and with his
+assistance, go bring her from the place&mdash;save her! Mr. Fitzgerald begs
+she will take the matter practically. She could not breathe the air of
+the place, he says.</p>
+
+<p>"'Thank you Dobbs,' says I," he resumes, "and when it got a bit dark I
+went incog. to Black-beetle's Hole&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And where is this curious place?" she questions, with an air of
+anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"As to that, Madame&mdash;well, you wouldn't know it was lived in, because
+its underground, and one not up to the entrance never would think it led
+to a place where human beings crawled in at night. I don't wonder so
+many of 'em does things what get 'em into the Station, and after that
+treated to a short luxury on the Island. As I was goin' on to say, I got
+myself fortified, started out into the Points, and walked&mdash;we take these
+things practically&mdash;down and up the east sidewalk, then stopped in front
+of the old rotten house that Black-beetle Hole is under. Then I looks
+down the wet little stone steps, that ain't wide enough for a big man
+to get down, and what lead into the cellar. Some call it Black-beetle
+Hole, and then again some call it the Hole of the Black-beetles. 'Yer
+after no good, Mr. Fitzgerald,' says Mrs. McQuade, whose husband keeps
+the junk-shop over the Hole, putting her malicious face out of the
+window.</p>
+
+<p>"'You're the woman I want, Mrs. McQuade,' says I. 'Don't be puttin' your
+foot in the house,' says she. And when I got her temper a little down by
+telling her I only wanted to know who lived in the Hole, she swore by
+all the saints it had niver a soul in it, and was hard closed up. Being
+well up to the dodges of the Points folks, I descended the steps, and
+gettin' underground, knocked at the Hole door, and then sent it smash
+in. 'Well! who's here?' says I. 'It's me,' says Mrs. Lynch, a knot of an
+old woman, who has kept the Hole for many years, and says she has no
+fear of the devil."</p>
+
+<p>Madame Montford listens with increasing anxiety; Mr. Detective
+Fitzgerald proceeds: "'Get a light here, then;' says I. You couldn't see
+nothing, it was so dark, but you could hear 'em move, and breathe. And
+then the place was so hot and sickly. Had to stand it best way I could.
+There was no standing straight in the dismal place, which was wet and
+nasty under foot, and not more nor twelve by fourteen. The old woman
+said she had only a dozen lodgers in; when she made out to get a light
+for me I found she had twenty-three, tucked away here and there, under
+straw and stuff. Well, it was curious to see 'em (here the detective
+wipes his forehead with his handkerchief) rise up, one after another,
+all round you, you know, like fiends that had been buried for a time,
+then come to life merely to get something to eat."</p>
+
+<p>"And did you find the woman&mdash;and was she one of them?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I'm comin' at. Well, I caught a sight at the woman; knew
+her at the glance. I got a sight at her one night in the Pit at the
+House of the Nine Nations. 'Here! I wants you,' says I, takin' what
+there was left of her by the arm. She shrieked, and crouched down, and
+begged me not to hurt her, and looked wilder than a tiger at me. And
+then the whole den got into a fright, and young women, and boys, and
+men&mdash;they were all huddled together&mdash;set up such a screaming. 'Munday!'
+says I, 'you don't go to the Tombs&mdash;here! I've got good news for you.'
+This quieted her some, and then I picked her up&mdash;she was nearly
+naked&mdash;and seeing she wanted scrubbing up, carried her out of the Hole,
+and made her follow me to my house, where we got her into some clothes,
+and seeing that she was got right in her mind, I thought it would be a
+good time to question her."</p>
+
+<p>"If you will hasten the result of your search, it will, my good sir,
+relieve my feelings much!" again interposes the lady, drawing her chair
+nearer the detective.</p>
+
+<p>"'You've had.' I says to her, 'a hard enough time in this world, and now
+here's the man what's going to be a friend to ye&mdash;understand that!' says
+I, and she looked at me bewildered. We gave her something to eat, and a
+pledge that no one would harm her, and she tamed down, and began to look
+up a bit. 'Your name wasn't always Munday?' says I, in a way that she
+couldn't tell what I was after. She said she had taken several names,
+but Munday was her right name. Then she corrected herself&mdash;she was weak
+and hoarse&mdash;and said it was her husband's name. 'You've a good memory,
+Mrs. Munday,' says I; 'now, just think as far back as you can, and tell
+us where you lived as long back as you can think.' She shook her head,
+and began to bury her face in her hands I tried for several minutes, but
+could get nothing more out of her. Then she quickened up, shrieked out
+that she had just got out of the devil's regions, and made a rush for
+the door."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLIII.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>IN WHICH IS REVEALED THE ONE ERROR THAT BROUGHT SO MUCH SUFFERING UPON
+MANY.</p>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Fitzgerald sees that his last remark is having no very good effect
+on Madame Montford, and hastens to qualify, ere it overcome her. "That,
+I may say, Madame, was not the last of her. My wife and me, seeing how
+her mind was going wrong again, got her in bed for the night, and took
+what care of her we could. Well, you see, she got rational in the
+morning, and, thinking it a chance, I 'plied a heap of kindness to her,
+and got her to tell all she knew of herself. She went on to tell where
+she lived&mdash;I followed your directions in questioning her&mdash;at the time
+you noted down. She described the house exactly. I have been to it
+to-night; knew it at a sight, from her description. Some few practical
+questions I put to her about the child you wanted to get at, I found
+frightened her so that she kept shut&mdash;for fear, I take it, that it was a
+crime she may be punished for at some time. I says, 'You was trusted
+with a child once, wasn't you?' 'The Lord forgive me,' she says, 'I know
+I'm guilty&mdash;but I've been punished enough in this world haven't I?' And
+she burst out into tears, and hung down her head, and got into the
+corner, as if wantin' nobody to see her. She only wanted a little good
+care, and a little kindness, to bring her to. This we did as well as we
+could, and made her understand that no one thought of punishing her, but
+wanted to be her friends. Well, the poor wretch began to pick up, as I
+said before, and in three days was such another woman that nobody could
+have told that she was the poor crazy thing that ran about the lanes and
+alleys of the Points. And now, Madame, doing as you bid me, I thought it
+more practical to come to you, knowing you could get of her all you
+wanted. She is made comfortable. Perhaps you wouldn't like to have her
+brought here&mdash;I may say I don't think it would be good policy. If you
+would condescend to come to our house, you can see her alone. I hope you
+are satisfied with my services." The detective pauses, and again wipes
+his face.</p>
+
+<p>"My gratitude for your perseverance I can never fully express to you. I
+owe you a debt I never can repay. To-morrow, at ten o'clock, I will meet
+you at your house; and then, if you can leave me alone with her&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, certainly, everything will be at your service, Madame,"
+returns the detective, rising from his seat and thanking the lady, who
+rewards him bountifully from her purse, and bids him good night. The
+servant escorts him to the door, while Madame Montford buries her face
+in her hands, and gives vent to her emotions.</p>
+
+<p>On the morning following, a neatly-caparisoned carriage is seen driving
+to the door of a little brick house in Crosby street. From it Madame
+Montford alights, and passes in at the front door, while in another
+minute it rolls away up the street and is lost to sight. A few moments'
+consultation, and the detective, who has ushered the lady into his
+humbly-furnished little parlor, withdraws to give place to the pale and
+emaciated figure of the woman Munday, who advances with faltering step
+and downcast countenance. "Oh! forgive me, forgive me! have mercy upon
+me! forgive me this crime!" she shrieks. Suddenly she raises her eyes,
+and rushing forward throws herself at Madame Montford's feet, in an
+imploring attitude. Dark and varied fancies crowd confusedly on Madame
+Montford's mind at this moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, nay, my poor sufferer, rather I might ask forgiveness of you." She
+takes the woman by the hand, and, with an air of regained calmness,
+raises her from the floor. With her, the outer life seems preparing the
+inner for what is to come. "But I have long sought you&mdash;sought you in
+obedience to the demands of my conscience, which I would the world gave
+me power to purify; and now I have found you, and with you some rest for
+my aching heart. Come, sit down; forget what you have suffered; tell me
+what befell you, and what has become of the child; tell me all, and
+remember that I will provide for you a comfortable home for the rest of
+your life." Madame motions her to a chair, struggling the while to
+suppress her own feelings.</p>
+
+<p>"I loved the child you intrusted to my care; yes, God knows I loved it,
+and watched over it for two years, as carefully as a mother. But I was
+poor, and the brother, in whose hands you intrusted the amount for its
+support (this, the reader must here know, was not a brother, but the
+paramour of Madame Montford), failed, and gave me nothing after the
+first six months. I never saw him, and when I found you had gone
+abroad&mdash;" The woman hesitates, and, with weeping eyes and trembling
+voice, again implores forgiveness. "My husband gave himself up to
+drink, lost his situation, and then he got to hating the child, and
+abusing me for taking it, and embarrassing our scanty means of living.
+Night and day, I was harassed and abused, despised and neglected. I was
+discouraged, and gave up in despair. I clung to the child as long as I
+could. I struggled, and struggled, and struggled&mdash;" Here the woman
+pauses, and with a submissive look, again hangs down her head and sobs.</p>
+
+<p>"Be calm, be calm," says Madame Montford, drawing nearer to her, and
+making an effort to inspirit her. "Throw off all your fears, forget what
+you have suffered, for I, too, have suffered. And you parted with the
+child?"</p>
+
+<p>"Necessity forced me," pursues the woman, shaking her head. "I saw only
+the street before me on one side, and felt only the cold pinchings of
+poverty on the other. You had gone abroad&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It was my intention to have adopted the child as my own when I
+returned," interrupts Madame Montford, still clinging to that flattering
+hope in which the criminal sees a chance of escape.</p>
+
+<p>"And I," resumes the woman, "left the husband who neglected me, and who
+treated me cruelly, and gave myself,&mdash;perhaps I was to blame for it,&mdash;up
+to one who befriended me. He was the only one who seemed to care for me,
+or to have any sympathy for me. But he, like myself, was poor; and,
+being compelled to flee from our home, and to live in obscurity, where
+my husband could not find me out, the child was an incumbrance I had no
+means of supporting. I parted with her&mdash;yes, yes, I parted with her to
+Mother Bridges, who kept a stand at a corner in West street&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And then what became of her?" again interposes Madame Montford. The
+woman assumes a sullenness, and it is some time before she can be got to
+proceed.</p>
+
+<p>"My conscience rebuked me," she resumes, as if indifferent about
+answering the question, "for I loved the child as my own; and the friend
+I lived with, and who followed the sea, printed on its right arm two
+hearts and a broken anchor, which remain there now. My husband died of
+the cholera, and the friend I had taken to, and who treated me kindly,
+also died, and I soon found myself an abandoned woman, an outcast&mdash;yes,
+ruined forever, and in the streets, leading a life that my own feelings
+revolted at, but from which starvation only seemed the alternative. My
+conscience rebuked me again and again, and something&mdash;I cannot tell what
+it was&mdash;impelled me with an irresistible force to watch over the
+fortunes of the child I knew must come to the same degraded life
+necessity&mdash;perhaps it was my own false step&mdash;had forced upon me. I
+watched her a child running neglected about the streets, then I saw her
+sold to Hag Zogbaum, who lived in Pell street; I never lost sight of
+her&mdash;no, I never lost sight of her, but fear of criminating myself kept
+me from making myself known to her. When I had got old in vice, and
+years had gone past, and she was on the first step to the vice she had
+been educated to, we shared the same roof. Then she was known as Anna
+Bonard&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Anna Bonard!" exclaims Madame Montford. "Then truly it is she who now
+lives in Charleston! There is no longer a doubt. I may seek and claim
+her, and return her to at least a life of comfort."</p>
+
+<p>"There you will find her. Ah, many times have I looked upon her, and
+thought if I could only save her, how happy I could die. I shared the
+same roof with her in Charleston, and when I got sick she was kind to
+me, and watched over me, and was full of gentleness, and wept over her
+condition. She has sighed many a time, and said how she wished she knew
+how she came into the world, to be forced to live despised by the world.
+But I got down, down, down, from one step to another, one step to
+another, as I had gone up from one step to another in the splendor of
+vice, until I found myself, tortured in mind and body, a poor neglected
+wretch in the Charleston Poor-house. In it I was treated worse than a
+slave, left, sick and heart-broken, and uncared-for, to the preying of a
+fever that destroyed my mind. And as if that were not enough, I was
+carried into the dungeons&mdash;the 'mad cells,'&mdash;and chained. And this
+struck such a feeling of terror into my soul that my reason, as they
+said, was gone forever. But I got word to Anna, and she came to me, and
+gave me clothes and many little things to comfort me, and got me out,
+and gave me money to get back to New York, where I have been ever since,
+haunted from place to place, with scarce a place to lay my head. Surely
+I have suffered. Shall I be forgiven?" Her voice here falters, she
+becomes weak, and seems sinking under the burden of her emotions.
+"If,&mdash;if&mdash;if," she mutters, incoherently, "you can save me, and forgive
+me, you will have the prayers of one who has drank deep of the bitter
+cup." She looks up with a sad, melancholy countenance, again implores
+forgiveness, and bursts into loud sobs.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine is the guilty part&mdash;it is me who needs forgiveness!" speaks Madame
+Montford, pressing the hand of the forlorn woman, as the tears stream
+down her cheeks. She has unburdened her emotions, but such is the
+irresistible power of a guilty conscience that she finds her crushed
+heart and smitten frame sinking under the shock&mdash;that she feels the very
+fever of remorse mounting to her brain.</p>
+
+<p>"Be calm, be calm&mdash;for you have suffered, wandered through the dark
+abyss&mdash;truly you have been chastened enough in this world. But while
+your heart is only bruised and sore, mine is stung deep and lacerated.
+The image of that child now rises up before me. I see her looking back
+over her chequered life, and pining to know her birthright. Mine is the
+task of seeking her out, reconciling her, saving her from this life of
+shame. I must sacrifice the secrets of my own heart, go boldly in
+pursuit of her&mdash;" She pauses a moment. There is yet a thin veil between
+her and society. Society only founds its suspicions upon the mystery
+involved in the separation from her husband, and the doubtful character
+of her long residence in Europe. Society knows nothing of the birth of
+the child. The scandal leveled at her in Charleston, was only the result
+of her own indiscretion. "Yes," she whispers, attempting at the same
+time to soothe the feelings of the poor disconsolate woman, "I must go,
+and go quickly&mdash;I must drag her from the terrible life she is
+leading;&mdash;but, ah! I must do it so as to shield myself. Yes, I must
+shield myself!" And she puts into the woman's hand several pieces of
+gold, saying: "take this!&mdash;to-morrow you will be better provided for. Be
+silent. Speak to no one of what has passed between us, nor make the
+acquaintance of any one outside the home I shall provide for you." Thus
+saying, she recalls Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, rewards him with a nostrum
+from her purse, and charges him to make the woman comfortable at her
+expense.</p>
+
+<p>"Her mind, now I do believe," says the detective, with an approving
+toss of the head, "her faculties'll come right again,&mdash;they only wants a
+little care and kindness, mum." The detective thanks her again and
+again, then puts the money methodically into his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>The carriage having returned, Madame Montford vaults into it as quickly
+as she alighted, and is rolled away to her mansion.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLIV.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>IN WHICH IS RECORDED EVENTS THE READER MAY NOT HAVE EXPECTED.</p>
+
+
+<p>While the events we have recorded in the foregoing chapter, confused,
+hurried, and curious, are being enacted in New York, let us once more
+turn to Charleston.</p>
+
+<p>You must know that, notwithstanding our high state of civilization, we
+yet maintain in practice two of the most loathsome relics of
+barbarism&mdash;we lash helpless women, and we scourge, at the public
+whipping-post, the bare backs of men.</p>
+
+<p>George Mullholland has twice been dragged to the whipping-post, twice
+stripped before a crowd in the market-place, twice lashed, maddened to
+desperation, and twice degraded in the eyes of the very negroes we teach
+to yield entire submission to the white man, however humble his grade.
+Hate, scorn, remorse&mdash;every dark passion his nature can summon&mdash;rises up
+in one torturing tempest, and fills his bosom with a mad longing for
+revenge. "Death!" he says, while looking out from his cell upon the
+bright landscape without, "what is death to me? The burnings of an
+outraged soul subdue the thought of death."</p>
+
+<p>The woman through whom this dread finale was brought upon him, and who
+now repines, unable to shake off the smarts old associations crowd upon
+her heart, has a second and third time crept noiselessly to his cell,
+and sought in vain his forgiveness. Yea, she has opened the door gently,
+but drew back in terror before his dark frown, his sardonic scorn, his
+frenzied rush at her. Had he not loved her fondly, his hate had not
+taken such deep root in his bosom.</p>
+
+<p>Two or three days pass, he has armed himself "to the death," and is
+resolved to make his escape, and seek revenge of his enemies. It is
+evening. Dark festoons of clouds hang over the city, lambent lightning
+plays along the heavens in the south. Now it flashes across the city,
+the dull panorama lights up, the tall, gaunt steeples gleam out, and the
+surface of the Bay flashes out in a phosphoric blaze. Patiently and
+diligently has he filed, and filed, and filed, until he has removed the
+bar that will give egress to his body. The window of his cell overlooks
+the ditch, beyond which is the prison wall. Noiselessly he arranges the
+rope, for he is in the third story, then paces his cell, silent and
+thoughtful. "Must it be?" he questions within himself, "must I stain
+these hands with the blood of the woman I love? Revenge, revenge&mdash;I will
+have revenge. I will destroy both of them, for to-morrow I am to be
+dragged a third time to the whipping-post." Now he casts a glance round
+the dark cell, now he pauses at the window, now the lightning courses
+along the high wall, then reflects back the deep ditch. Another moment,
+and he has commenced his descent. Down, down, down, he lowers himself.
+Now he holds on tenaciously, the lightning reflects his dangling figure,
+a prisoner in a lower cell gives the alarm, he hears the watchword of
+his discovery pass from cell to cell, the clashing of the keeper's door
+grates upon his ear like thunder&mdash;he has reached the end of his rope,
+and yet hangs suspended in the air. A heavy fall is heard, he has
+reached the ditch, bounds up its side to the wall, seizes a pole, and
+places against it, and, with one vault, is over into the open street.
+Not a moment is to be lost. Uproar and confusion reigns throughout the
+prison, his keepers have taken the alarm, and will soon be on his track,
+pursuing him with ferocious hounds. Burning for revenge, and yet
+bewildered, he sets off at full speed, through back lanes, over fields,
+passing in his course the astonished guardmen. He looks neither to the
+right nor the left, but speeds on toward the grove. Now he reaches the
+bridge that crosses the millpond, pauses for breath, then proceeds on.
+Suddenly a light from the villa Anna occupies flashes out. He has
+crossed the bridge, bounds over the little hedge-grown avenue, through
+the garden, and in another minute stands before her, a pistol pointed at
+her breast, and all the terrible passions of an enraged fiend darkening
+his countenance. Her implorings for mercy bring an old servant rushing
+into the room, the report of a pistol rings out upon the still air,
+shriek after shriek follows, mingled with piercing moans, and
+death-struggles. "Ha, ha!" says the avenger, looking on with a sardonic
+smile upon his face, and a curl of hate upon his lip, "I have taken the
+life to which I gave my own&mdash;yes, I have taken it&mdash;I have taken it!" And
+she writhes her body, and sets her eyes fixedly upon him, as he hastens
+out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Quick! quick!" he says to himself. "There, then! I am pursued!" He
+recrosses the millpond over another bridge, and in his confusion turns a
+short angle into a lane leading to the city. The yelping of dogs, the
+deep, dull tramp of hoofs, the echoing of voices, the ominous baying
+and scenting of blood-hounds&mdash;all break upon his ear in one terrible
+chaos. Not a moment is to be lost. The sight at the villa will attract
+the attention of his pursuers, and give him time to make a distance! The
+thought of what he has done, and the terrible death that awaits him,
+crowds upon his mind, and rises up before him like a fierce monster of
+retribution. He rushes at full speed down the lane, vaults across a
+field into the main road, only to find his pursuers close upon him. The
+patrol along the streets have caught the alarm, which he finds spreading
+with lightning-speed. The clank of side-arms, the scenting and baying of
+the hounds, coming louder and louder, nearer and nearer, warns him of
+the approaching danger. A gate at the head of a wharf stands open, the
+hounds are fast gaining upon him, a few jumps more and they will have
+him fast in their ferocious grasp. He rushes through the gate, down the
+wharf, the tumultuous cry of his pursuers striking terror into his very
+heart. Another instant and the hounds are at his feet, he stands on the
+capsill at the end, gives one wild, despairing look into the abyss
+beneath&mdash;"I die revenged," he shouts, discharges a pistol into his
+breast, and with one wild plunge, is buried forever in the water
+beneath. The dark stream of an unhappy life has run out. Upon whom does
+the responsibility of this terrible closing rest? In the words of
+Thomson, the avenger left behind him only "Gaunt Beggary, and Scorn,
+with many hell-hounds more."</p>
+
+<p>When the gray dawn of morning streamed in through the windows of the
+little villa, and upon the parlor table, that had so often been adorned
+with caskets and fresh-plucked flowers, there, in their stead, lay the
+lifeless form of the unhappy Anna, her features pale as marble, but
+beautiful even in death. There, rolled in a mystic shroud, calm as a
+sleeper in repose, she lay, watched over by two faithful slaves.</p>
+
+<p>The Judge and Mr. Snivel have found it convenient to make a trip of
+pleasure into the country. And though the affair creates some little
+comment in fashionable society, it would be exceedingly unpopular to pry
+too deeply into the private affairs of men high in office. We are not
+encumbered with scrutinizing morality. Being an "unfortunate woman," the
+law cannot condescend to deal with her case. Indeed, were it brought
+before a judge, and the judge to find himself sitting in judgment upon a
+judge, his feelings would find some means of defrauding his judgment,
+while society would carefully close the shutter of its sanctity.</p>
+
+<p>At high noon there comes a man of the name of Moon, commonly called Mr.
+Moon, the good-natured Coroner. In truth, a better-humored man than Mr.
+Moon cannot be found; and what is more, he has the happiest way in the
+world of disposing of such cases, and getting verdicts of his jury
+exactly suited to circumstances. Mr. Moon never proceeds to business
+without regaling his jury with good brandy and high-flavored cigars. In
+this instance he has bustled about and got together six very solemn and
+seriously-disposed gentlemen, who proceed to deliberate. "A mystery
+hangs over the case," says one. A second shakes his head, and views the
+body as if anxious to get away. A third says, reprovingly, that "such
+cases are coming too frequent." Mr. Moon explains the attendant
+circumstances, and puts a changed face on the whole affair. One juryman
+chalks, and another juryman chalks, and Mr. Moon says, by way of
+bringing the matter to a settled point, "It is a bad ending to a
+wretched life." A solemn stillness ensues, and then follows the verdict.
+The body being identified as that of one Anna Bonard, a woman celebrated
+for her beauty, but of notorious reputation, the jury are of opinion
+(having duly weighed the circumstances) that she came to her melancholy
+death by the hands of one George Mullholland, who was prompted to commit
+the act for some cause to the jury unknown. And the jury, in passing the
+case over to the authorities, recommend that the said Mullholland be
+brought to justice. This done, Mr. Moon orders her burial, and the jury
+hasten home, fully confident of having performed their duty unswerved.</p>
+
+<p>When night came, when all was hushed without, and the silence within was
+broken only by the cricket's chirp, when the lone watcher, the faithful
+old slave, sat beside the cold, shrouded figure, when the dim light of
+the chamber of death seemed mingling with the shadows of departed souls,
+there appeared in the room, like a vision, the tall figure of a female,
+wrapped in a dark mantle. Slowly and noiselessly she stole to the side
+of the deceased, stood motionless and statue-like for several minutes,
+her eyes fixed in mute contemplation on the face of the corpse. The
+watcher looked and started back, still the figure remained motionless.
+Raising her right hand to her chin, pensively, she lifted her eyes
+heavenward, and in that silent appeal, in those dewy tears that
+glistened in her great orbs, in those words that seemed freezing to her
+quivering lips, the fierce struggle waging in that bosom was told. She
+heard the words, "You cannot redeem me now!" knelling in her ears, her
+thoughts flashed back over years of remorse, to the day of her error,
+and she saw rising up as it were before her, like a spectre from the
+tomb, seeking retribution, the image of the child she had sacrificed to
+her vanity. She pressed and pressed the cold hand, so delicate, so like
+her own; she unbared the round, snowy arm, and there beheld the
+imprinted hearts, and the broken anchor! Her pent-up grief then burst
+its bounds, the tears rolled down her cheeks, her lips quivered, her
+hand trembled, and her very blood seemed as ice in her veins. She cast a
+hurried glance round the room, a calm and serene smile seemed lighting
+up the features of the lifeless woman, and she bent over her, and kissed
+and kissed her cold, marble-like brow, and bathed it with her burning
+tears. It was a last sad offering; and having bestowed it, she turned
+slowly away, and disappeared. It was Madame Montford, who came a day too
+late to save the storm-tossed girl, but returned to think of the
+hereafter of her own soul.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLV.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>ANOTHER SHADE OF THE PICTURE.</p>
+
+
+<p>While the earth of Potter's Field is closing over all that remains of
+Anna Bonard, Maria McArthur may be seen, snatching a moment of rest, as
+it were, seated under the shade of a tree on the Battery, musing, as is
+her wont. The ships sail by cheerily, there is a touching beauty about
+the landscape before her, all nature seems glad. Even the heavens smile
+serenely; and a genial warmth breathes through the soft air. "Truly the
+Allwise," she says within herself, "will be my protector, and is
+chastising me while consecrating something to my good. Mr. Keepum has
+made my father's release the condition of my ruin. But he is but flesh
+and blood, and I&mdash;no, I am not yet a slave! The virtue of the poor,
+truly, doth hang by tender threads; but I am resolved to die struggling
+to preserve it." And a light, as of some future joy, rises up in her
+fancy, and gives her new strength.</p>
+
+<p>The German family have removed from the house in which she occupies a
+room, and in its place are come two women of doubtful character. Still,
+necessity compels her to remain in it; for though it is a means resorted
+to by Keepum to effect his purpose, she cannot remove without being
+followed, and harassed by him. Strong in the consciousness of her own
+purity, and doubly incensed at the proof of what extremes the designer
+will condescend to, she nerves herself for the struggle she sees before
+her. True, she was under the same roof with them; she was subjected to
+many inconveniencies by their presence; but not all their flattering
+inducements could change her resolution. Nevertheless, the resolution of
+a helpless female does not protect her from the insults of heartless
+men. She returns home to find that Mother Rumor, with her thousand
+tongues, is circulating all kinds of evil reports about her. It is even
+asserted that she has become an abandoned woman, and is the occupant of
+a house of doubtful repute. And this, instead of enlisting the
+sympathies of some kind heart, rather increases the prejudice and
+coldness of those upon whom she has depended for work. It is seldom the
+story of suffering innocence finds listeners. The sufferer is too
+frequently required to qualify in crime, before she becomes an object of
+sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>She returns, one day, some work just finished for one of our high old
+families, the lady of which makes it a boast that she is always engaged
+in "laudable pursuits of a humane kind." The lady sends her servant to
+the door with the pittance due, and begs to say she is sorry to hear of
+the life Miss McArthur is leading, and requests she will not show
+herself at the house again. Mortified in her feelings, Maria begs an
+interview; but the servant soon returns an answer that her Missus cannot
+descend to anything of the kind. Our high old families despise working
+people, and wall themselves up against the poor, whose virtue they
+regard as an exceedingly cheap commodity. Our high old families choose
+rather to charge guilt, and deny the right to prove innocence.</p>
+
+<p>With the four shillings, Maria, weeping, turns from the door, procures
+some bread and coffee, and wends her way to the old prison. But the
+chords of her resolution are shaken, the cold repulse has gone like
+poison to her heart. The ray of joy that was lighting up her future,
+seems passing away; whilst fainter and fainter comes the hope of once
+more greeting her lover. She sees vice pampered by the rich, and poor
+virtue begging at their doors. She sees a price set upon her own ruin;
+she sees men in high places waiting with eager passion the moment when
+the thread of her resolution will give out. The cloud of her night does,
+indeed, seem darkening again.</p>
+
+<p>But she gains the prison, and falters as she enters the cell where the
+old Antiquary, his brow furrowed deep of age, sleeps calmly upon his
+cot. Near his hand, which he has raised over his head, lays a letter,
+with the envelope broken. Maria's quick eye flashes over the
+superscription, and recognizes in it the hand of Tom Swiggs. A transport
+of joy fills her bosom with emotions she has no power to constrain. She
+trembles from head to foot; fancies mingled with joys and fears crowd
+rapidly upon her thoughts. She grasps it with feelings frantic of joy,
+and holds it in her shaking hand; the shock has nigh overcome her. The
+hope in which she has so long found comfort and strength&mdash;that has so
+long buoyed her up, and carried her safely through trials, has truly
+been her beacon light. "Truly," she says within herself, "the dawn of my
+morning is brightening now." She opens the envelope, and finds a letter
+enclosed to her. "Oh! yes, yes, yes! it is him&mdash;it is from him!" she
+stammers, in the exuberance of her wild joy. And now the words, "You
+are richer than me," flash through her thoughts with revealed
+significance.</p>
+
+<p>Maria grasps the old man's hand. He starts and wakes, as if unconscious
+of his situation, then fixes his eyes upon her with a steady, vacant
+gaze. Then, with childlike fervor, he presses her hand to his lips, and
+kisses it. "It was a pleasant dream&mdash;ah! yes, I was dreaming all things
+went so well!" Again a change comes over his countenance, and he glances
+round the room, with a wild and confused look. "Am I yet in
+prison?&mdash;well, it was only a dream. If death were like dreaming, I would
+crave it to take me to its peace, that my mind might no longer be
+harassed with the troubles of this life. Ah! there, there!"&mdash;(the old
+man starts suddenly, as if a thought has flashed upon him)&mdash;"there is
+the letter, and from poor Tom, too! I only broke the envelope. I have
+not opened it."</p>
+
+<p>"It is safe, father; I have it," resumes Maria, holding it before him,
+unopened, as the words tremble upon her lips. One moment she fears it
+may convey bad news, and in the next she is overjoyed with the hope that
+it brings tidings of the safety and return of him for whose welfare she
+breathed many a prayer. Pale and agitated, she hesitates a moment, then
+proceeds to open it.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, father! heaven has shielded me&mdash;heaven has shielded me! Ha! ha!
+ha! yes, yes, yes! He is safe! he is safe!" And she breaks out into one
+wild exclamation of joy, presses the letter to her lips, and kisses it,
+and moistens it with her tears, "It was all a plot&mdash;a dark plot set for
+my ruin!" she mutters, and sinks back, overcome with her emotions. The
+old man fondles her to his bosom, his white beard flowing over her
+suffused cheeks, and his tears mingling with hers. And here she
+remains, until the anguish of her joy runs out, and her mind resumes its
+wonted calm.</p>
+
+<p>Having broken the spell, she reads the letter to the enraptured old man.
+Tom has arrived in New York; explains the cause of his long absence;
+speaks of several letters he has transmitted by post, (which she never
+received;) and his readiness to proceed to Charleston, by steamer, in a
+few days. His letter is warm with love and constancy; he recurs to old
+associations; he recounts his remembrance of the many kindnesses he
+received at the hands of her father, when homeless; of the care, to
+which he owes his reform, bestowed upon him by herself, and his burning
+anxiety to clasp her to his bosom.</p>
+
+<p>A second thought flashes upon her fevered brain. Am I not the subject of
+slander! Am I not contaminated by associations? Has not society sought
+to clothe me with shame? Truth bends before falsehood, and virtue
+withers under the rust of slandering tongues. Again a storm rises up
+before her, and she feels the poisoned arrow piercing deep into her
+heart. Am I not living under the very roof that will confirm the
+slanders of mine enemies? she asks herself. And the answer rings back in
+confirmation upon her too sensitive ears, and fastens itself in her
+feelings like a reptile with deadly fangs. No; she is not yet free from
+her enemies. They have the power of falsifying her to her lover. The
+thought fills her bosom with sad emotions. Strong in the consciousness
+of her virtue, she feels how weak she is in the walks of the worldly.
+Her persecutors are guilty, but being all-powerful may seek in still
+further damaging her character, a means of shielding themselves from
+merited retribution. It is the natural expedient of bad men in power to
+fasten crime upon the weak they have injured.</p>
+
+<p>Only a few days have to elapse, then, and Maria will be face to face
+with him in whom her fondest hopes have found refuge: but even in those
+few days it will be our duty to show how much injury may be inflicted
+upon the weak by the powerful.</p>
+
+<p>The old Antiquary observes the change that has come so suddenly over
+Maria's feelings, but his entreaties fail to elicit the cause. Shall she
+return to the house made doubtful by its frail occupants; or shall she
+crave the jailer's permission to let her remain and share her father's
+cell? Ah! solicitude for her father settles the question. The
+alternative may increase his apprehensions, and with them his
+sufferings. Night comes on; she kisses him, bids him a fond adieu, and
+with an aching heart returns to the house that has brought so much
+scandal upon her.</p>
+
+<p>On reaching the door she finds the house turned into a bivouac of
+revelry; her own chamber is invaded, and young men and women are making
+night jubilant over Champagne and cigars. Mr. Keepum and the Hon. Mr.
+Snivel are prominent among the carousers; and both are hectic of
+dissipation. Shall she flee back to the prison? Shall she go cast
+herself at the mercy of the keeper? As she is about following the
+thought with the act, she is seized rudely by the arms, dragged into the
+scene of carousal, and made the object of coarse jokes. One insists that
+she must come forward and drink; another holds an effervescing glass to
+her lips; a third says he regards her modesty out of place, and demands
+that she drown it with mellowing drinks. The almost helpless girl
+shrieks, and struggles to free herself from the grasp of her enemies.
+Mr. Snivel, thinking it highly improper that such cries go free,
+catches her in his arms, and places his hand over her mouth. "Caught
+among queer birds at last," he says, throwing an insidious wink at
+Keepum. "Will flock together, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>As if suddenly invested with herculean strength, Maria hurls the ruffian
+from her, and lays him prostrate on the floor. In his fall the table is
+overset, and bottles, decanters and sundry cut glass accompaniments, are
+spread in a confused mass on the floor. Suddenly Mr. Keepum extinguishes
+the lights. This is the signal for a scene of uproar and confusion we
+leave the reader to picture in his imagination. The cry of "murder" is
+followed quickly by the cry of "watch, watch!" and when the guardmen
+appear, which they are not long in doing, it is seen that the very
+chivalric gentlemen have taken themselves off&mdash;left, as a prey for the
+guard, only Maria and three frail females.</p>
+
+<p>Cries, entreaties, and explanations, are all useless with such men as
+our guard is composed of. Her clothes are torn, and she is found rioting
+in disreputable company. The sergeant of the guard says, "Being thus
+disagreeably caught, she must abide the penalty. It may teach you how to
+model your morals," he adds; and straightway, at midnight, she is
+dragged to the guard-house, and in spite of her entreaties, locked up in
+a cell with the outcast women. "Will you not hear me? will you not allow
+an innocent woman to speak in her own behalf? Do, I beg, I beseech, I
+implore you&mdash;listen but for a minute&mdash;render me justice, and save me
+from this last step of shame and disgrace," she appeals to the sergeant,
+as the cell door closes upon her.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Sergeant Stubble, for such is his name, shakes his head in doubt.
+"Always just so," he says, with a shrug of the shoulders: "every one's
+innocent what comes here 'specially women of your sort. The worst
+rioters 'come the greatest sentimentalists, and repents most when they
+gets locked up&mdash;does! You'll find it a righteous place for reflection,
+in there." Mr. Sergeant Stubble shuts the door, and smothers her cries.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLVI.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>GAINING STRENGTH FROM PERSECUTION.</p>
+
+
+<p>You know it is Bulwer who says, and says truly: "There is in calumny a
+rank poison that, even when the character throws off the slander, the
+heart remains diseased beneath the effect." The force of this on Maria's
+thoughts and feelings, surrounded as she was by the vile influences of a
+Charleston cell, came with strange effect as she contemplated her
+friendless condition. There is one witness who can bear testimony to her
+innocence, and in Him she still puts her trust. But the charitable have
+closed their ears to her; and the outside world is too busy to listen to
+her story. Those words of the poor woman who said, "You are still richer
+than me," again ring their sweet music in her ear, and give strength to
+her weary soul. They come to her like the voice of a merciful
+Providence, speaking through the hushed air of midnight, and breathing
+the sweet spirit of love into the dusky figures who tenant that dreary
+cell. To Maria it is the last spark of hope, that rarely goes out in
+woman's heart, and has come to tell her that to-morrow her star may
+brighten. And now, reader, turn with us to another scene of hope and
+anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>The steamer which bears Tom to Charleston is off Cape Romaine. He has
+already heard of the fate of the old man McArthur. But, he asks himself,
+may not truth and justice yet triumph? He paces and repaces the deck,
+now gazing vacantly in the direction the ship is steering, then walking
+to the stern and watching the long train of phosphoric light playing on
+the toppling waves.</p>
+
+<p>There was something evasive in the manner of the man who communicated to
+him the intelligence concerning McArthur. "May I ask another question of
+you, sir?" he inquires, approaching the man who, like himself, sauntered
+restlessly along the deck.</p>
+
+<p>The man hesitates, lights a fresh cigar. "You desire me to be frank with
+you, of course," rejoins the man. "But I observe you are agitated. I
+will answer your question, if it carry no personal wound. Speak, my
+friend."</p>
+
+<p>"You know Maria?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well."</p>
+
+<p>"You know what has become of her, or where she resides?"</p>
+
+<p>Again the man hesitates&mdash;then says, "These are delicate matters to
+discover."</p>
+
+<p>"You are not responsible for my feelings," interrupts the impatient man.</p>
+
+<p>"If, then, I must be plain,&mdash;she is leading the life of an outcast. Yes,
+sir, the story is that she has fallen, and from necessity. I will say
+this, though," he adds, by way of relief, "that I know nothing of it
+myself." The words fall like a death-knell on his thoughts and feelings.
+He stammers out a few words, but his tongue refuses to give utterance to
+his thoughts. His whole nature seems changed; his emotions have filled
+the cup of his sorrow; an abyss, deep, dark, and terrible, has opened to
+his excited imagination. All the dark scenes of his life, all the
+struggles he has had to gain his manliness, rise up before him like a
+gloomy panorama, and pointing him back to that goal of dissipation in
+which his mind had once found relief. He seeks his stateroom in
+silence, and there invokes the aid of Him who never refuses to protect
+the right. And here again we must return to another scene.</p>
+
+<p>Morning has come, the guard-roll has been called, and Judge Sleepyhorn
+is about to hold high court. Maria and the companions of her cell are
+arraigned, some black, others white, all before so august a judge. His
+eye rests on a pale and dejected woman inwardly resolved to meet her
+fate, calm and resolute. It is to her the last struggle of an eventful
+life, and she is resolved to meet it with womanly fortitude.</p>
+
+<p>The Judge takes his seat, looks very grave, and condescends to say there
+is a big docket to be disposed of this morning. "Crime seems to increase
+in the city," he says, bowing to Mr. Seargent Stubbs.</p>
+
+<p>"If your Honor will look at that," Mr. Stubbs says, smiling,&mdash;"most on
+em's bin up afore. All hard cases, they is."</p>
+
+<p>"If yeer Onher plases, might a woman o' my standin' say a woord in her
+own difince? Sure its only a woord, Judge, an beein a dacent gintleman
+ye'd not refuse me the likes."</p>
+
+<p>"Silence, there!" ejaculates Mr. Seargent Stubbs; "you must keep quiet
+in court."</p>
+
+<p>"Faith its not the likes o' you'd keep me aisy, Mr. Stubbs. Do yee see
+that now?" returns the woman, menacingly. She is a turbulent daughter of
+the Emerald Isle, full five feet nine inches, of broad bare feet, with a
+very black eye, and much in want of raiment.</p>
+
+<p>"The most corrigible case what comes to this court," says Mr. Stubbs,
+bowing knowingly to the judge. "Rather likes a prison, yer Honor. Bin up
+nine times a month. A dear customer to the state."</p>
+
+<p>The Judge, looking grave, and casting his eye learnedly over the pages
+of a ponderous statute book, inquires of Mr. Seargent Stubbs what the
+charge is.</p>
+
+<p>"Disturbed the hole neighborhood. A fight atween the Donahues, yer
+Honor."</p>
+
+<p>"Dorn't believe a woord of it, yeer Onher. Sure, din't Donahue black the
+eye o' me, and sphil the whisky too? Bad luck to Donahue, says I. You
+don't say that to me, says he. I'd say it to the divil, says I. Take
+that! says Donahue." Here Mrs. Donahue points to her eye, and brings
+down even the dignity of the court.</p>
+
+<p>"In order to preserve peace between you and Donahue," says his Honor,
+good naturedly, "I shall fine you ten dollars, or twenty days."</p>
+
+<p>"Let it go at twenty days," replies Mrs. Donahue, complimenting his
+Honor's high character, "fir a divil o' ten dollars have I." And Mrs.
+Donahue resigns herself to the tender mercies of Mr. Seargent Stubbs,
+who removes her out of court.</p>
+
+<p>A dozen or more delinquent negroes, for being out after hours without
+passes, are sentenced thirty stripes apiece, and removed, to the evident
+delight of the Court, who is resolved that the majesty of the law shall
+be maintained.</p>
+
+<p>It is Maria's turn now. Pale and trembling she approaches the circular
+railing, assisted by Mr. Seargent Stubbs. She first looks imploringly at
+the judge, then hangs down her head, and covers her face with her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the charge?" inquires the Judge, turning to the loquacious
+Stubbs. Mr. Stubbs says: "Disorderly conduct&mdash;and in a house of bad
+repute."</p>
+
+<p>"I am innocent&mdash;I have committed no crime," interrupts the injured
+woman. "You have dragged me here to shame me." Suddenly her face
+becomes pale as marble, her limbs tremble, and the court is thrown into
+a state of confusion by her falling to the floor in a swoon.</p>
+
+<p>"Its all over with her now," says Mr. Stubbs, standing back in fear.</p>
+
+<p>Crime has not dried up all the kinder impulses of Judge Sleepyhorn's
+heart. Leaving the bench he comes quickly to the relief of the
+unfortunate girl, holds her cold trembling hand in his own, and tenderly
+bathes her temples. "Sorry the poor girl," he says, sympathizingly,
+"should have got down so. Knew her poor old father when he was
+comfortably off, and all Charleston liked him." His Honor adjourns
+court, and ten minutes pass before the sufferer is restored to
+consciousness. Then with a wild despairing look she scans those around
+her, rests her head on her hand despondingly, and gives vent to her
+tears. The cup of her sorrow has indeed overrun.</p>
+
+<p>"It was wrong to arrest you, young woman, and I sympathize with you. No
+charge has been preferred, and so you are free. A carriage waits at the
+door, and I have ordered you to be driven home," says the judge,
+relaxing into sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no home now," she returns, the tears coursing down her wet
+cheeks. "Slaves have homes, but I have none now."</p>
+
+<p>"When you want a friend, you'll find a friend in me. Keep up your
+spirits, and remember that virtue is its own reward." Having said this,
+the Judge raises her gently to her feet, supports her to the carriage,
+and sees her comfortably seated. "Remember, you know, where to find a
+friend if you want one," he says, and bids her good-morning. In another
+minute the carriage is rolling her back to the home from whence she was
+taken. She has no better home now.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLVII.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>AN EXCITEMENT.</p>
+
+
+<p>A bright fire burned that night in Keepum's best parlor, furnished with
+all the luxuries modern taste could invent. Keepum, restless, paces the
+carpet, contemplating his own importance, for he has just been made a
+Major of Militia, and we have a rare love for the feather. Now he pauses
+at a window and looks impatiently out, then frisks his fingers through
+his crispy hair and resumes his pacing. He expects some one, whose
+coming he awaits with evident anxiety. "The time is already up," he
+says, drawing his watch from his pocket. The door-bell rings just then,
+his countenance brightens, and a servant ushers Mr. Snivel in. "The time
+is already up, my good fellow," says Keepum, extending his hand
+familiarly,&mdash;Mr. Snivel saying, "I've so many demands on my time, you
+know. We're in good time, you know. Must bring the thing to a head
+to-night." A short conversation carried on in whispers, and they sally
+out, and soon disappear down Broad street.</p>
+
+<p>Just rounding the frowning walls of fort Sumter, a fort the restless
+people never had any particular love for, is a big red light of the
+steamer cutting through the sea like a monster of smoke and flame, on
+her way up the harbor. Another hour, and she will be safely moored at
+her landing. Tom stands on the upper deck, looking intently towards the
+city, his anxiety increasing as the ship approaches the end of her
+voyage, and his eager eye catching each familiar object only to remind
+him more forceably of the time when he seemed on the downward road of
+life. Hope had already begun to dispel his fears, and the belief that
+what the man had told him was founded only in slander, became stronger
+the more he pondered over it.</p>
+
+<p>St. Michael's clock has just struck ten, and the mounted guard are
+distributing into their different beats. Maria, contemplating what may
+come to-morrow, sits at the window of her lonely chamber like one whom
+the world had forgotten. The dull vibrating sound of the clock still
+murmurs on the air as she is startled from her reverie by the sound of
+voices under the window. She feels her very soul desponding. It does
+indeed seem as if that moment has come when nature in her last struggle
+with hope must yield up the treasure of woman's life, and sink into a
+life of remorse and shame. The talking becomes more distinct; then there
+is a pause, succeeded by Keepum and Snivel silently entering her room,
+the one drawing a chair by her side, the other taking a seat near the
+door. "Come as friends, you know," says Keepum, exchanging glances with
+Snivel, then fixing his eyes wickedly on the woman. "Don't seem to enjoy
+our company, eh? Poor folks is got to puttin' on airs right big,
+now-a-days. Don't 'mount to much, anyhow; ain't much better than
+niggers, only can't sell 'em." "Poor folks must keep up appearances,
+eh," interposes Mr. Snivel. They are waiting an opportunity for seizing
+and overpowering the unprotected girl. We put our chivalry to strange
+uses at times.</p>
+
+<p>But the steamer has reached her wharf; the roaring of her escaping steam
+disturbs the city, and re&euml;choes far away down the bay. Again familiar
+scenes open to the impatient man's view; old friends pass and repass him
+unrecognized; but only one thought impels him, and that is fixed on
+Maria. He springs ashore, dashes through the crowd of spectators, and
+hurries on, scarcely knowing which way he is going.</p>
+
+<p>At length he pauses on the corner of King and Market streets, and
+glances up to read the name by the glare of gas-light. An old negro
+wends his way homeward. "Daddy," says he, "how long have you lived in
+Charleston?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never was out on em, Mas'r," replies the negro, looking inquisitively
+into the anxious man's face. "Why, lor's me, if dis are bin't Mas'r Tom,
+what used t' be dis old nigger's young Mas'r."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it you, Uncle Cato?" Their recognition was warm, hearty, and true.
+"God bless you, my boy; I've need of your services now," says Tom, still
+holding the hard hand of the old negro firmly grasped in his own, and
+discovering the object of his mission.</p>
+
+<p>"Jus' tote a'ter old Cato, Mas'r Tom. Maria's down da, at Undine's
+cabin, yander. Ain't no better gal libin dan Miss Maria," replies Cato,
+enlarging on Maria's virtues. There is no time to be lost. They hurry
+forward, Tom following the old negro, and turning into a narrow lane to
+the right, leading to Undine's cabin. But here they are doomed to
+disappointment. They reach Undine's cabin, but Maria is not there.
+Undine comes to the door, and points away down the lane, in the
+direction of a bright light. "You will find her dare" says Undine; "and
+if she ain't dare, I don' know where she be." They thank her, repay her
+with a piece of silver, and hurry away in the direction of the light,
+which seems to burn dimmer and dimmer as they approach. It suddenly
+disappears, and, having reached the house, a rickety wooden tenement, a
+cry of "Save me, save me! Heaven save me!" rings out on the still air,
+and falls on the ear of the already excited man, like a solemn warning.</p>
+
+<p>"Up dar! Mas'r Tom, up dar!" shouts Cato, pointing to a stairs leading
+on the outside. Up Tom vaults, and recognizing Maria's voice,
+supplicating for mercy, thunders at the door, which gives away before
+his strength. "It is me, Maria! it is me!" he proclaims. "Who is this
+that has dared to abuse or insult you?" and she runs and throws herself
+into his arms. "A light! a light, bring a light, Cato!" he demands, and
+the old negro hastens to obey.</p>
+
+<p>In the confusion of the movement, Keepum reaches the street in safety
+and hastens to his home, leaving his companion to take care of himself.</p>
+
+<p>A pale gleam of light streams into the open door, discovering a tall
+dusky figure moving noiselessly towards it. "Why, if here bin't Mas'r
+Snivel!" ejaculates old Cato, who returns bearing a candle, the light of
+which falls on the tall figure of Mr. Snivel.</p>
+
+<p>"What, villain! is it you who has brought all this distress upon a
+friendless girl?"&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Glad to see you back, Tom. Don't make so much of it, my good
+fellow&mdash;only a bit of a lark, you know. 'Pon my honor, there was nothing
+wrong meant. Ready to do you a bit of a good turn, any time," interrupts
+Mr. Snivel, blandly, and extending his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"You! villain, do me a friendly act? Never. You poisoned the mind of my
+mother against me, robbed her of her property, and then sought to
+destroy the happiness and blast forever the reputation of one who is
+dearer to me than a sister. You have lived a miscreant long enough. You
+must die now." Quickly the excited man draws a pistol, the report rings
+sharply on the ear, and the tall figure of Mr. Snivel staggers against
+the door, then falls to the ground,&mdash;dead. His day of reckoning has
+come, and with it a terrible retribution.</p>
+
+<p>"Now Maria, here," says Tom, picking up a packet of letters that had
+dropped from the pocket of the man, as he fell, "is the proof of his
+guilt and my sincerity." They were the letters written by him to Maria,
+and intercepted by Mr. Snivel, through the aid of a clerk in the
+post-office. "He has paid the penalty of his misdeeds, and I have no
+regrets to offer. To-morrow I will give myself up and ask only justice."</p>
+
+<p>Then clasping Maria in his arms he bids old Cato follow him, and
+proceeds with her to a place of safety for the night, as an anxious
+throng gather about the house, eager to know the cause of the shooting.
+"Ah, Mas'r Snivel," says old Cato, pausing to take a last look of the
+prostrate form, "you's did a heap o' badness. Gone now. Nobody'll say he
+care."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h3>CHAPTER XLIX.</h3>
+
+<p  class='center' style='font-size:smaller;'>ALL'S WELL.</p>
+
+
+<p>Two months have passed since the events recorded in the preceding
+chapter. Tom has been arraigned before a jury of his peers, and
+honorably acquitted, although strong efforts were made to procure a
+conviction, for Mr. Snivel had many friends in Charleston who considered
+his death a loss. But the people said it was a righteous verdict, and
+justified it by their applause.</p>
+
+<p>And now, the dark clouds of sorrow and trial having passed away, the
+happy dawn of a new life is come. How powerfully the truth of the words
+uttered by the woman, Undine, impresses itself on her mind now,&mdash;"You
+are still richer than me." It is a bright sunny morning in early April.
+Birds are making the air melodious with their songs; flowers blooming by
+the roadside, are distilling their perfumes; a bright and serene sky,
+tinged in the East with soft, azure clouds, gives a clear, delicate
+outline to the foliage, so luxuriant and brilliant of color, skirting
+the western edge of the harbor, and reflecting itself in the calm,
+glassy water. A soft whispering wind comes fragrant from the west; it
+does indeed seem as if nature were blending her beauties to make the
+harmony perfect.</p>
+
+<p>A grotesque group, chiefly negroes, old and young, may be seen gathered
+about the door of a quaint old personage near the millpond. Their
+curiosity is excited to the highest pitch, and they wait with evident
+impatience the coming of the object that has called them together. Chief
+among the group is old Cato, in his best clothes, consisting of a tall
+drab hat, a faded blue coat, the tail extending nearly to the ground,
+striped pantaloons, a scarlet vest, an extravagant shirt collar, tied at
+the neck with a piece of white cotton, and his bare feet. Cato moves up
+and down, evidently feeling himself an important figure of the event,
+and admonishing his young "brudren," who are much inclined to mischief,
+not a few having perched on the pickets of the parsonage, to keep on
+their best behavior. Then he discourses with great volubility of his
+long acquaintance with Mas'r Tom and Miss Maria.</p>
+
+<p>As if to add another prominent picture to the scene, there appears at
+the door of the parsonage, every few minutes, a magnificently got-up
+negro, portly, grey hair, and venerable, dressed in unsullied black, a
+spotless white cravat, and gloves. This is Uncle Pomp, who considers
+himself an essential part of the parsonage, and is regarded with awe for
+his Bible knowledge by all the colored people of the neighborhood. Pomp
+glances up, then down the street, advances a few steps, admonishes the
+young negroes, and exchanges bows with Cato, whom he regards as quite a
+common brought-up negro compared with himself. Now he disappears, Cato
+remarking to his companions that if he had Pomp's knowledge and learning
+he would not thank anybody to make him a white man.</p>
+
+<p>Presently there is a stir in the group: all eyes are turned up the road,
+and the cry is, "Dare da comes." Two carriages approach at a rapid
+speed, and haul up at the gate, to the evident delight and relief of the
+younger members of the group, who close in and begin scattering sprigs
+of laurel and flowers along the path, as two couple, in bridal dress,
+alight, trip quickly through the garden, and disappear, Pomp bowing
+them into the parsonage. Tom and Maria are the central figures of the
+interesting ceremony about to be performed. Old Cato received a warm
+press of the hand from Tom as he passed, and Cato returned the
+recognition, with "God bress Mas'r Tom." A shadow of disappointment
+deepened in his face as he saw the door closed, and it occurred to him
+that he was not to be a witness of the ceremony. But the door again
+opened, and Pomp relieved his wounded feelings by motioning with his
+finger, and, when Cato had reached the porch, bowing him into the house.</p>
+
+<p>And now we have reached the last scene in the picture. There, kneeling
+before the altar in the parlor of that quaint old parsonage, are the
+happy couple and their companions. The clergyman, in his surplice, reads
+the touching service in a clear and impressive voice, while Pomp, in a
+pair of antique spectacles, ejaculates the responses in a voice peculiar
+to his race. Old Cato, kneeling before a chair near the door, follows
+with a loud&mdash;Amen. There is something supremely simple, touching, and
+impressive in the picture. As the closing words of the benediction fall
+from the clergyman's lips, Maria, her pale oval face shadowed with that
+sweetness and gentleness an innocent heart only can reflect, raises her
+eyes upwards as if to return thanks to the Giver of all good for his
+mercy and protection. As she did this a ray of light stole in at the
+window and played softly over her features, like a messenger of love
+come to announce a happy future. Just then the cup of her joy became
+full, and tears, like gems of purest water, glistened in her eyes, then
+moistened her pallid cheeks. Truly the woman spoke right when she said,</p>
+
+<p>
+"You are still still richer than me."<br />
+</p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See Senator Sumner's speech in Congress on Plantation
+manners.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> An election bully, the ugliest man in Charleston, and the
+deadly foe of Mingle.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Now called Baxter street</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Now Worth street and Mission Place.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> A gambling den.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Can it be possible that such things as are here pictured
+have an existence among a people laying any claim to a state of
+civilization? the reader may ask. The author would here say that to the
+end of fortifying himself against the charge of exaggeration, he
+submitted the MS. of this chapter to a gentleman of the highest
+respectability in Charleston, whose unqualified approval it received, as
+well as enlisting his sympathies in behalf of the unfortunate lunatics
+found in the cells described. Four years have passed since that time. He
+subsequently sent the author the following, from the "Charleston
+Courier," which speaks for itself.
+</p>
+<p>
+"FROM THE REPORTS OF COUNCIL.<br />
+"January 4th, 1843
+</p>
+<p>
+"<i>The following communication was received from William M. Lawton, Esq.,
+Chairman of the Commissioners of the Poor-house.</i>
+</p>
+<p>
+"'Charleston, Dec. 17th, 1852.<br />
+"'To the Honorable, the City Council of Charleston:
+</p>
+<p>
+"'By a resolution of the Board of Commissioners of this City, I have
+been instructed to communicate with your honorable body in relation to
+the insane paupers now in Poor-house', (the insane in a poor-house!)
+'and to request that you will adopt the necessary provision for sending
+them to the Lunatic Asylum at Columbia. * * * * There are twelve on the
+list, many of whom, it is feared, have already remained too long in an
+institution quite unsuited to their unfortunate situation.
+</p>
+<p>
+"'With great respect, your very obedient servant,<br />
+"'(Signed) WM. M. LAWTON,<br />
+"'Chairman of the Board of Commissioners.'"<br />
+</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Our Charleston readers will recognize the case here
+described, without any further key.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> An institution for the relief of the destitute.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> This sight may be seen at any time.</p></div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<p style="margin-left: 12em;margin-top: 10em;">
+HOME INSURANCE COMPANY.<br />
+OFFICE, No. 112 &amp; 114 BROADWAY.<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+CASH CAPITAL, ONE MILLION DOLLARS.<br />
+Assets, 1st July, 1860, $1,481,819 27. Liabilities, 1st July, 1860,<br />
+54,068 67.<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+The Home Insurance Company continues to issue against loss or damage<br />
+by FIRE and the dangers of INLAND NAVIGATION AND TRANSPORTATION,<br />
+on terms as favorable as the nature of the risks and the real<br />
+security of the Insured and the Company will warrant.<br />
+<br />
+<b>LOSSES EQUITABLY ADJUSTED AND PROMPTLY PAID.</b><br />
+<br />
+Charles J. Martin, President.   A.F. Willmarth, Vice-President.<br />
+<span class="smcap">J. Milton Smith</span>, Secretary. <span class="smcap">John McGee</span>, Assistant Secretary.<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+<br /></p>
+
+
+
+<table border="0"  cellpadding="0" cellspacing="10" summary="directors">
+<tr>
+<td colspan='3' align='center'>DIRECTORS.</td>
+<td></td>
+<td></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Wm. G. Lambert,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of A. &amp; A. Lawrence &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Geo. C. Collins,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Sherman, Collins &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Danford N. Barney,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Wells, Fargo &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Lucius Hopkins,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>President of Importers and Traders' Bank.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Thos. Messenger,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of T. &amp; H. Messenger.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Wm. H. Mellen,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Claflin, Mellen &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Chas. J. Martin,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>President.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>A.F. Willmarth,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>Vice-President.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Charles B. Hatch,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of C.B. Hatch &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>B. Watson Bull,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Merrick &amp; Bull.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td> Homer Morgan</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'> </td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Levi P. Stone,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Stone, Starr &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Jas. Humphrey,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>late of Barney, Humphrey &amp; Butler.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>George Pearce,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of George Pearce &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Ward A. Work,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Ward A. Work &amp; Son.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>James Low,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of James Low &amp; Co., of Louisville.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>I.H. Frothingham,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>late firm of I.H. Frothingham &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Charles A. Bulkley,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>Bulkley &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Geo. D. Morgan,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of E.D. Morgan &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Cephas H. Norton,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Norton &amp; Jewett.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Theo. McNamee,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Bowen, McNamee &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Richard Bigelow,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Doan, King &amp; Co., St. Louis.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Oliver E. Wood,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Willard, Wood &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Alfred S. Barnes,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>A.S. Barnes &amp; Burr.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>George Bliss,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Phelps, Bliss &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Roe Lockwood,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of R. Lockwood &amp; Son.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Levi P. Morton,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Morton, Grinnell &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Curtis Noble,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>late of Condit &amp; Noble.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>J.B. Hutchinson,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of J.C. Howe &amp; Co., Boston.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Chas. P. Baldwin,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Baldwin, Starr &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td> Amos T. Dwight</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Trowbridge, Dwight &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>H.A. Hurlbut,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Swift, Hurlbut &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Jesse Hoyt,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Jesse Hoyt &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Wm. Sturgis, Jr.,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Sturgis, Shaw &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>John R. Ford,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Ford Rubber Co.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Sidney Mason,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>late of Mason &amp; Thompson.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Geo. T. Stedman,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Stedman, Carlisle &amp; Shaw, Cincinnati.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Cyrus Yale, Jr.,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Cyrus Yale, Jr. &amp; Co., of New Orleans.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Wm. R. Fosdick,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Wm. R. &amp; Chas. B. Fosdick.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>David I. Boyd,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Boyd, Brother &amp; Co., Albany.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>F.H. Cossitt,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of Cossitt, Hill &amp; Tallmadge, Memphis.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td>Lewis Roberts,</td>
+<td> </td>
+<td align='right'>of L. Roberts &amp; Co.</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of An Outcast, by F. Colburn Adams
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OUTCAST ***
+
+***** This file should be named 20745-h.htm or 20745-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/4/20745/
+
+Produced by Graeme Mackreth, Curtis Weyant and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images produced by the Wright
+American Fiction Project.)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/20745-page-images.zip b/20745-page-images.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ff25a22
--- /dev/null
+++ b/20745-page-images.zip
diff --git a/20745.txt b/20745.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..83ae12a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/20745.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,12209 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of An Outcast, by F. Colburn Adams
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: An Outcast
+       or, Virtue and Faith
+
+Author: F. Colburn Adams
+
+Release Date: March 5, 2007 [EBook #20745]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OUTCAST ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Graeme Mackreth, Curtis Weyant and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images produced by the Wright
+American Fiction Project.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+AN OUTCAST;
+
+OR,
+
+VIRTUE AND FAITH.
+
+BY
+
+F. COLBURN ADAMS.
+
+
+"Be merciful to the erring."
+
+NEW YORK:
+PUBLISHED BY M. DOOLADY,
+49 WALKER STREET.
+1861.
+
+
+Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1861,
+
+BY M. DOOLADY,
+
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
+Southern District of New York.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+When reason and conscience are a man's true guides to what he
+undertakes, and he acts strictly in obedience to them, he has little to
+fear from what the unthinking may say. You cannot, I hold, mistake a man
+intent only on doing good. You may differ with him on the means he calls
+to his aid; but having formed a distinct plan, and carried it out in
+obedience to truth and right, it will be difficult to impugn the
+sincerity of his motives. For myself, I care not what weapon a man
+choose, so long as he wield it effectively, and in the cause of humanity
+and justice. We are a sensitive nation, prone to pass great moral evils
+over in silence rather than expose them boldly, or trace them to their
+true sources. I am not indifferent to the duty every writer owes to
+public opinion, nor the penalties he incurs in running counter to it.
+But fear of public opinion, it seems to me, has been productive of much
+evil, inasmuch as it prefers to let crime exist rather than engage in
+reforms. Taking this view of the matter, I hold fear of public opinion
+to be an evil much to be deplored. It aids in keeping out of sight that
+which should be exposed to public view, and is satisfied to pass
+unheeded the greatest of moral evils. Most writers touch these great
+moral evils with a timidity that amounts to fear, and in describing
+crimes of the greatest magnitude, do it so daintily as to divest their
+arguments of all force. The public cannot reasonably be expected to
+apply a remedy for an evil, unless the cause as well as the effect be
+exposed truthfully to its view. It is the knowledge of their existence
+and the magnitude of their influence upon society, which no false
+delicacy should keep out of sight, that nerves the good and generous to
+action. I am aware that in exciting this action, great care should be
+taken lest the young and weak-minded become fascinated with the gilding
+of the machinery called to the writer's aid. It is urged by many good
+people, who take somewhat narrow views of this subject, that in dealing
+with the mysteries of crime vice should only be described as an ugly
+dame with most repulsive features. I differ with those persons. It would
+be a violation of the truth to paint her thus, and few would read of her
+in such an unsightly dress. These persons do not, I think, take a
+sufficiently clear view of the grades into which the vicious of our
+community are divided, and their different modes of living. They found
+their opinions solely on the moral and physical condition of the most
+wretched and abject class, whose sufferings they would have us hold up
+to public view, a warning to those who stand hesitating on the brink
+between virtue and vice. I hold it better to expose the allurements
+first, and then paint vice in her natural colors--a dame so gay and
+fascinating that it is difficult not to become enamored of her. The ugly
+and repulsive dame would have few followers, and no need of writers to
+caution the unwary against her snares. And I cannot forget, that truth
+always carries the more forcible lesson. But we must paint the road to
+vice as well as the castle, if we would give effect to our warning. That
+road is too frequently strewn with the brightest of flowers, the thorns
+only discovering themselves when the sweetness of the flowers has
+departed. I have chosen, then, to describe things as they are. You,
+reader, must be the judge whether I have put too much gilding on the
+decorations.
+
+I confess that the subject of this work was not congenial to my
+feelings. I love to deal with the bright and cheerful of life; to leave
+the dark and sorrowful to those whose love for them is stronger than
+mine. Nor am I insensible to the liabilities incurred by a writer who,
+having found favor with the public, ventures upon so delicate and
+hazardous an undertaking. It matters not how carefully and discreetly he
+perform the task, there will always be persons enough to question his
+sincerity and cast suspicion upon his motives. What, I have already been
+asked, was my motive for writing such a book as this? Why did I descend
+into the repulsive haunts of the wretched and the gilded palaces of the
+vicious for the material of a novel? My answer is in my book.
+
+NEW YORK, _January 1st_, 1861.
+
+
+
+
+AN OUTCAST.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+CHARLESTON.
+
+
+This simple story commences on a November evening, in the autumn of
+185-. Charleston and New York furnish me with the scenes and characters.
+
+Our quaint old city has been in a disquiet mood for several weeks.
+Yellow fever has scourged us through the autumn, and we have again taken
+to scourging ourselves with secession fancies. The city has not looked
+up for a month. Fear had driven our best society into the North, into
+the mountains, into all the high places. Business men had nothing to do;
+stately old mansions were in the care of faithful slaves, and there was
+high carnival in the kitchen. Fear had shut up the churches, shut up the
+law-courts, shut up society generally. There was nothing for lawyers to
+do, and the buzzards found it lonely enough in the market-place. The
+clergy were to be found at fashionable watering-places, and politicians
+found comfort in cards and the country. Timid doctors had taken to their
+heels, and were not to be found. Book-keepers and bank-clerks were on
+Sullivan's Island. The poor suffered in the city, and the rich had not a
+thought to give them. Grave-looking men gathered into little knots, at
+street corners, and talked seriously of Death's banquet. Old negroes
+gathered about the kitchen-table, and terrified themselves with tales of
+death: timid ones could not be got to pass through streets where the
+scourge raged fiercest. Mounted guardsmen patrolled the lonely streets
+at night, their horses' hoofs sounding on the still air, like a solemn
+warning through a deserted city.
+
+Sisters of Mercy, in deep, dark garments, moved noiselessly along the
+streets, by day and by night, searching out and ministering to the sick
+and the dying. Like brave sentinels, they never deserted their posts.
+The city government was in a state of torpor. The city government did
+not know what to do. The city government never did know what to do. Four
+hundred sick and dying lay languishing in the hospital. The city
+government was sorry for them, and resolved that Providence would be the
+best doctor. The dead gave place to the dying by dozens, and there has
+been high carnival down in the dead-yard. The quick succession of
+funeral trains has cast a shade of melancholy over the broad road that
+leads to it. Old women are vending pies and cakes at the gates, and
+little boys are sporting over the newly-made graves, that the wind has
+lashed into furrows. Rude coffins stand about in piles, and tipsy
+negroes are making the very air jubilant with the songs they bury the
+dead to.
+
+A change has come over the scene now. There is no more singing down in
+the dead-yard. A bright sun is shedding its cheerful rays over the broad
+landscape, flowers deck the roadside, and the air comes balmy and
+invigorating. There has been frost down in the lowlands. A solitary
+stranger paces listlessly along the walks of the dead-yard, searching
+in vain for the grave of a departed friend. The scourge has left a sad
+void between friends living and friends gone to eternal rest. Familiar
+faces pass us on the street, only to remind us of familiar faces passed
+away forever. The city is astir again. Society is coming back to us.
+There is bustle in the churches, bustle in the law courts, bustle in the
+hotels, bustle along the streets, bustle everywhere. There is bustle at
+the steamboat landings, bustle at the railway stations, bustle in all
+our high places. Vehicles piled with trunks are hurrying along the
+streets; groups of well-dressed negroes are waiting their master's
+return at the landings, or searching among piles of trunks for the
+family baggage. Other groups are giving Mas'r and Missus such a cordial
+greeting. Society is out of an afternoon, on King street, airing its
+dignity. There is Mr. Midshipman Button, in his best uniform, inviting
+the admiration of the fair, and making such a bow to all distinguished
+persons. Midshipman Button, as he is commonly called, has come home to
+us, made known to us the pleasing fact that he is ready to command our
+"navy" for us, whenever we build it for him. There is Major Longstring,
+of the Infantry, as fine a man in his boots as woman would fancy, ready
+to fight any foe; and corporal Quod, of the same regiment, ready to
+shoulder his weapon and march at a moment. We have an immense admiration
+for all these heroes, just now; it is only equalled by their admiration
+of themselves. The buzzards, too, have assumed an unusual air of
+importance--are busy again in the market; and long-bearded politicians
+are back again, at their old business, getting us in a state of
+discontent with the Union and everybody in general.
+
+There is a great opening of shutters among the old mansions. The music
+of the organ resounds in the churches, and we are again in search of the
+highest pinnacle to pin our dignity upon. Our best old families have
+been doing the North extensively, and come home to us resolved never to
+go North again. But it is fashionable to go North, and they will break
+this resolution when spring comes. Mamma, and Julia Matilda have brought
+home an immense stock of Northern millinery, all paid for with the
+hardest of Southern money, which papa declares the greatest evil the
+state suffers under. He has been down in the wilderness for the last ten
+years, searching in vain for a remedy. The North is the hungry dog at
+the door, and he will not be kicked away. So we have again mounted that
+same old hobby-horse. There was so much low-breeding at the North,
+landlords were so extortionate, vulgarity in fine clothes got in your
+way wherever you went, servants were so impertinent, and the trades
+people were so given to cheating. We would shake our garments of the
+North, if only some one would tell us how to do it becomingly.
+
+Master Tom and Julia Matilda differ with the old folks on this great
+question of bidding adieu to the North. Tom had a "high old time
+generally," and is sorry the season closed so soon. Julia Matilda has
+been in a pensive mood ever since she returned. That fancy ball was so
+brilliant; those moonlight drives were so pleasant; those flirtations
+were carried on with such charming grace! A dozen little love affairs,
+like pleasant dreams, are touching her heart with their sweet
+remembrance. The more she contemplates them the sadder she becomes.
+There are no drives on the beach now, no moonlight rambles, no
+promenades down the great, gay verandah, no waltzing, no soul-stirring
+music, no tender love-tales told under the old oaks. But they brighten
+in her fancy, and she sighs for their return. She is a prisoner now,
+surrounded by luxury in the grim old mansion. Julia Matilda and Master
+Tom will return to the North when spring comes, and enjoy whatever there
+is to be enjoyed, though Major Longstring and Mr. Midshipman Button
+should get us safe out of the Union.
+
+Go back with us, reader, not to the dead-yard, but to the quiet walks of
+Magnolia Cemetery, hard by. A broad avenue cuts through the centre, and
+stretches away to the west, down a gently undulating slope. Rows of tall
+pines stand on either side, their branches forming an arch overhead, and
+hung with long, trailing moss, moving and whispering mysteriously in the
+gentle wind. Solemn cypress trees mark the by-paths; delicate flowers
+bloom along their borders, and jessamine vines twine lovingly about the
+branches of palmetto and magnolia trees. An air of enchanting harmony
+pervades the spot; the dead could repose in no prettier shade.
+Exquisitely chiselled marbles decorate the resting-places of the rich;
+plain slabs mark those of the poor.
+
+It is evening now. The shadows are deepening down the broad avenue, the
+wind sighs touchingly through the tall pines, and the sinking sun is
+shedding a deep purple hue over the broad landscape. A solitary
+mocking-bird has just tuned its last note, and sailed swiftly into the
+dark hedgerow, down in the dead-yard.
+
+A young girl, whose fair oval face the sun of eighteen summers has
+warmed into exquisite beauty, sits musingly under a cypress tree. Her
+name is Anna Bonnard, and she is famous in all the city for her beauty,
+as well as the symmetry of her form. Her dress is snowy white, fastened
+at the neck with a blue ribbon, and the skirts flowing. Her face is
+like chiselled marble, her eyes soft, black, and piercing, and deep,
+dark tresses of silky hair fall down her shoulders to her waist. Youth,
+beauty, and innocence are written in every feature of that fair face,
+over which a pensive smile now plays, then deepens into sadness. Here
+she has sat for several minutes, her head resting lightly on her right
+hand, and her broad sun-hat in her left, looking intently at a newly
+sodded grave with a plain white slab, on which is inscribed, in black
+letters--"Poor Miranda." This is all that betrays the sleeper beneath.
+
+"And this is where they have laid her," she says, with a sigh. "Poor
+Miranda! like me, she was lost to this world. The world only knew the
+worst of her." And the tears that steal from her eyes tell the tale of
+her affection. "Heaven will deal kindly with the outcast, for Heaven
+only knows her sorrows." She rises quickly from her seat, casts a glance
+over the avenue, then pats the sods with her hands, and strews cypress
+branches and flowers over the grave, saying, "This is the last of poor
+Miranda. Some good friend has laid her here, and we are separated
+forever. It was misfortune that made us friends." She turns slowly from
+the spot, and walks down the avenue towards the great gate leading to
+the city. A shadow crosses her path; she hesitates, and looks with an
+air of surprise as the tall figure of a man advances hastily, saying,
+"Welcome, sweet Anna--welcome home."
+
+He extends his gloved hand, which she receives with evident reluctance.
+"Pray what brought you here, Mr. Snivel?" she inquires, fixing her eyes
+on him, suspiciously.
+
+"If you would not take it impertinent, I might ask you the same
+question. No, I will not. It was your charms, sweetest Anna. Love can
+draw me--I am a worshipper at its fountain. And as for law,--you know I
+live by that."
+
+Mr. Snivel is what may be called a light comedy lawyer; ready to enter
+the service of any friend in need. He is commonly called "Snivel the
+lawyer," although the profession regard him with suspicion, and society
+keeps him on its out skirts. He is, in a word, a sportsman of small
+game, ready to bring down any sort of bird that chances within reach of
+his fowling-piece. He is tall of figure and slender, a pink of fashion
+in dress, wears large diamonds, an eye-glass, and makes the most of a
+light, promising moustache. His face is small, sharp, and discolored
+with the sun, his eyes grey and restless, his hair fair, his mouth wide
+and characterless. Cunning and low intrigue are marked in every feature
+of his face; and you look in vain for the slightest evidence of a frank
+and manly nature.
+
+"Only heard you were home an hour ago. Set right off in pursuit of you.
+Cannot say exactly what impelled me. Love, perhaps, as I said before."
+Mr. Snivel twirls his hat in the air, and condescends to say he feels in
+an exceedingly happy state of mind. "I knew you needed a protector, and
+came to offer myself as your escort. I take this occasion to say, that
+you have always seen me in the false light my enemies magnify me in."
+
+"I have no need of your escort, Mr. Snivel; and your friendship I can
+dispense with, since, up to this time, it has only increased my
+trouble," she interposes, continuing down the avenue.
+
+"We all need friends----"
+
+"True friends, you mean, Mr. Snivel."
+
+"Well, then, have it so. You hold that all is false in men. I hold no
+such thing. Come, give me your confidence, Anna. Look on the bright
+side. Forget the past, and let the present serve. When you want a
+friend, or a job of law, call on me." Mr. Snivel adjusts his eye-glass,
+and again twirls his hat.
+
+The fair girl shakes her head and says, "she hopes never to need either.
+But, tell me, Mr. Snivel, are you not the messenger of some one else?"
+she continues.
+
+"Well, I confess," he replies, with a bow, "its partly so and partly not
+so. I came to put in one word for myself and two for the judge. Its no
+breach of confidence to say he loves you to distraction. At home in any
+court, you know, and stands well with the bar----"
+
+"Love for me! He can have no love for me. I am but an outcast, tossed on
+the sea of uncertainty; all bright to-day, all darkness to-morrow. Our
+life is a stream of excitement, down which we sail quickly to a
+miserable death. I know the doom, and feel the pang. But men do not love
+us, and the world never regrets us. Go, tell him to forget me."
+
+"Forget you? not he. Sent me to say he would meet you to-night. You are
+at the house of Madame Flamingo, eh?"
+
+"I am; and sorry am I that I am. Necessity has no choice."
+
+"You have left Mulholland behind, eh? Never was a fit companion for you.
+Can say that without offence. He is a New York rough, you know.
+Charleston gentlemen have a holy dislike of such fellows."
+
+"He has been good to me. Why should I forsake him for one who affects to
+love me to-day, and will loathe me to-morrow? He has been my only true
+friend. Heaven may smile on us some day, and give us enough to live a
+life of virtue and love. As for the mystery that separates me from my
+parents, that had better remain unsolved forever." As she says this,
+they pass out of the great gate, and are on the road to the city.
+
+A darker scene is being enacted in a different part of the city. A grim
+old prison, its walls, like the state's dignity, tumbling down and going
+to decay; its roof black with vegetating moss, and in a state of
+dilapidation generally,--stands, and has stood for a century or more, on
+the western outskirts of the city. We have a strange veneration for this
+damp old prison, with its strange histories cut on its inner walls. It
+has been threatening to tumble down one of these days, and it does not
+say much for our civilization that we have let it stand. But the
+question is asked, and by grave senators, if we pull it down, what shall
+we do with our pick-pockets and poor debtors? We mix them nicely up
+here, and throw in a thief for a messmate. What right has a poor debtor
+to demand that the sovereign state of South Carolina make a distinction
+between poverty and crime? It pays fifteen cents a day for getting them
+all well starved; and there its humanity ends, as all state humanity
+should end.
+
+The inner iron gate has just closed, and two sturdy constables have
+dragged into the corridor a man, or what liquor has left of a man, and
+left him prostrate and apparently insensible on the floor. "Seventh time
+we've bring'd him 'ere a thin two months. Had to get a cart, or Phin and
+me never'd a got him 'ere," says one of the men, drawing a long breath,
+and dusting the sleeves of his coat with his hands.
+
+"An officer earns what money he gits a commitin' such a cove," says the
+other, shaking his head, and looking down resentfully at the man on the
+floor. "Life'll go out on him like a kan'l one of these days." Officer
+continues moralizing on the bad results of liquor, and deliberately
+draws a commitment from his breast pocket. "Committed by Justice
+Snivel--breaking the peace at the house of Madame----" He cannot make
+out the name.
+
+First officer interposes learnedly--"Madame Flamingo." "Sure enuf, he's
+been playin' his shines at the old woman's house again. Why, Master
+Jailer, Justice Snivel must a made fees enuf a this 'ere cove to make a
+man rich enough," continues Mr. Constable Phin.
+
+"As unwelcome a guest as comes to this establishment," rejoins the
+corpulent old jailer, adjusting his spectacles, and reading the
+commitment, a big key hanging from the middle finger of his left hand.
+"Used to be sent up here by his mother, to be starved into reform. He is
+past reform. The poor-house is the place to send him to, 'tis."
+
+"Well, take good care on him, Master Jailer, now you've got him. He
+comes of a good enough family," says the first officer.
+
+"He's bin in this condition more nor a week--layin' down yonder, in Snug
+Harbor. Liquor's drived all the sense out on him," rejoins the
+second--and bidding the jailer good-morning, they retire.
+
+The forlorn man still lies prostrate on the floor, his tattered garments
+and besotted face presenting a picture of the most abject wretchedness.
+The old jailer looks down upon him with an air of sympathy, and shakes
+his head.
+
+"The doctor that can cure you doesn't live in this establishment," he
+says. The sound of a voice singing a song is heard, and the figure of a
+powerfully framed man, dressed in a red shirt and grey homespun
+trousers, advances, folds his arms deliberately, and contemplates with
+an air of contempt the prostrate man. His broad red face, flat nose,
+massive lips, and sharp grey eyes, his crispy red hair, bristling over a
+low narrow forehead, and two deep scars on the left side of his face,
+present a picture of repulsiveness not easily described. Silently and
+sullenly he contemplates the object before him for several minutes, then
+says:
+
+"Dogs take me, Mister Jailer! but he's what I calls run to the dogs.
+That's what whisky's did for him."
+
+"And what it will do for you one of these days," interrupts the jailer,
+admonishingly. "Up for disturbing the peace at Madame Flamingo's.
+Committed by Justice Snivel."
+
+"Throwing stones by way of repentance, eh? Tom was, at one time, as good
+a customer as that house had. A man's welcome at that house when he's up
+in the world. He's sure a gittin' kicked out when he is down."
+
+"He's here, and we must get him to a cell," says the jailer, setting his
+key down and preparing to lift the man on his feet.
+
+"Look a here, Tom Swiggs,--in here again, eh?" resumes the man in the
+red shirt. "Looks as if you liked the institution. Nice son of a
+respectable mother, you is!" He stoops down and shakes the prostrate man
+violently.
+
+The man opens his eyes, and casts a wild glance on the group of wan
+faces peering eagerly at him. "I am bad enough. You are no better than
+me," he whispers. "You are always here."
+
+"Not always. I am a nine months' guest. In for cribbing voters. Let out
+when election day comes round, and paid well for my services. Sent up
+when election is over, and friends get few. No moral harm in cribbing
+voters. You wouldn't be worth cribbing, eh, Tom? There ain't no
+politician what do'nt take off his hat, and say--'Glad to see you,
+Mister Mingle,' just afore election." The man folds his arms and walks
+sullenly down the corridor, leaving the newcomer to his own reflections.
+There is a movement among the group looking on; and a man in the garb of
+a sailor advances, presses his way through, and seizing the prostrate by
+the hand, shakes it warmly and kindly. "Sorry to see you in here agin,
+Tom," he says, his bronzed face lighting up with the fires of a generous
+heart. "There's no man in this jail shall say a word agin Tom Swiggs. We
+have sailed shipmates in this old craft afore."
+
+The man was a sailor, and the prisoner's called him Spunyarn, by way of
+shortness. Indeed, he had became so familiarized to the name, that he
+would answer to none other. His friendship for the inebriate was of the
+most sincere kind. He would watch over him, and nurse him into sobriety,
+with the care and tenderness of a brother. "Tom was good to me, when he
+had it;" he says, with an air of sympathy. "And here goes for lendin' a
+hand to a shipmate in distress." He takes one arm and the jailer the
+other, and together they support the inebriate to his cell. "Set me down
+for a steady boarder, and have done with it," the forlorn man mutters,
+as they lay him gently upon the hard cot. "Down for steady board,
+jailer--that's it."
+
+"Steady, steady now," rejoins the old sailor, as the inebriate tosses
+his arms over his head. "You see, there's a heavy ground swell on just
+now, and a chap what don't mind his helm is sure to get his spars
+shivered." He addresses the the jailer, who stands looking with an air
+of commiseration on the prostrate man. "Take in head-sail--furl
+top-gallant-sails--reef topsails--haul aft main-sheet--put her helm
+hard down--bring her to the wind, and there let her lay until it comes
+clear weather." The man writhes and turns his body uneasily. "There,
+there," continues the old sailor, soothingly; "steady, steady,--keep her
+away a little, then let her luff into a sound sleep. Old Spunyarn's the
+boy what'll stand watch." A few minutes more and the man is in a deep,
+sound sleep, the old sailor keeping watch over him so kindly, so like a
+true friend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE HOUSE OF A VERY DISTINGUISHED LADY.
+
+
+The mansion of Madame Flamingo stands stately in Berresford street. An
+air of mystery hangs over it by day, and it is there young Charleston
+holds high carnival at night. It is a very distinguished house, and
+Madame Flamingo assures us she is a very distinguished lady, who means
+to make her peace with heaven before she dies, and bestow largely on the
+priests, who have promised to make her comfortable while on the road
+through purgatory. The house is in high favor with young Charleston, and
+old Charleston looks in now and then. Our city fathers have great
+sympathy for it, and protect it with their presence. Verily it is a
+great gate on the road to ruin, and thousands pass heedlessly through
+its decorated walks, quickly reaching the dark end.
+
+It is evening, and thin fleecy clouds flit along the heavens. The gas
+sheds a pale light over the streets, and shadowy figures pass and repass
+us as we turn into the narrow street leading to the house of the old
+hostess. We have reached the great arched door, and stand in the shadow
+of a gas-light, playing over its trap, its network of iron, and its
+bright, silver plate. We pause and contemplate the massive walls, as the
+thought flashes upon us--How mighty is vice, that it has got such a
+mansion dedicated to its uses! Even stranger thoughts than these flit
+through the mind as we hesitate, and touch the bell timidly. Now, we
+have excited your curiosity, and shall not turn until we have shown you
+what there is within.
+
+We hear the bell faintly tinkle--now voices in loud conversation break
+upon the ear--then all is silent. Our anxiety increases, and keeps
+increasing, until a heavy footstep is heard advancing up the hall. Now
+there is a whispering within--then a spring clicks, and a small square
+panel opens and is filled with a broad fat face, with deep blue eyes and
+a profusion of small brown curls, all framed in a frosty cap-border. It
+is the old hostess, done up in her best book muslin, and so well
+preserved.
+
+"Gentlemen, or ain't ye gentlemen?" inquires the old hostess, in a low
+voice. "This is a respectable house, I'd have you remember. Gentlemen
+what ain't gentlemen don't git no show in this house--no they don't."
+She looks curiously at us, and pauses for a reply. The display of a kid
+glove and a few assuring words gain us admittance into the great hall,
+where a scene of barbaric splendor excites curious emotions. "There
+ain't nothin' but gentlemen gets into this house--they don't! and when
+they are in they behaves like gentlemen," says the hostess, bowing
+gracefully, and closing the door after us.
+
+The time prints of sixty summers have furrowed the old hostess' brow,
+and yet she seems not more than forty--is short of figure, and weighs
+two hundred. Soft Persian carpets cover the floor, lounges, in carved
+walnut and satin, stand along the sides; marble busts on pedestals, and
+full-length figures of statesmen and warriors are interspersed at short
+intervals; and the ceiling is frescoed in uncouth and fierce-looking
+figures. Flowers hang from niches in the cornice; a marble group,
+representing St. George and the dragon, stands at the foot of a broad
+circular stairs; tall mirrors reflect and magnify each object, and over
+all the gas from three chandeliers sheds a bewitching light. Such is the
+gaudy scene that excites the fancy, but leaves our admiration unmoved.
+
+"This is a castle, and a commonwealth, gentlemen. Cost me a deal of
+money; might get ruined if gentlemen forgot how to conduct themselves.
+Ladies like me don't get much credit for the good they do. Gentlemen
+will be introduced into the parlor when they are ready," says the old
+hostess, stepping briskly round us, and watching our every movement; we
+are new-comers, and her gaudy tabernacle is novel to us.
+
+"Have educated a dozen young men to the law, and made gentlemen of a
+dozen more, excellent young men--fit for any society. Don't square my
+accounts with the world, as the world squares its account with me," she
+continues, with that air which vice affects while pleading its own
+cause. She cannot shield the war of conscience that is waging in her
+heart; but, unlike most of those engaged in her unnatural trade, there
+is nothing in her face to indicate a heart naturally inclined to evil.
+It is indeed bright with smiles, and you see only the picture of a being
+sailing calmly down the smooth sea of peace and contentment. Her dress
+is of black glossy satin, a cape of fine point lace covers her broad
+shoulders, and bright blue cap-ribbons stream down her back.
+
+"Listen," says the old hostess--"there's a full house to-night. Both
+parlors are full. All people of good society!" she continues,
+patronizingly. "Them what likes dancin' dances in the left-hand parlor.
+Them what prefers to sit and converse, converses in the right-hand
+parlor. Some converses about religion, some converses about
+politics--(by way of lettin' you know my position, I may say that I go
+for secession, out and out)--some converses about law, some converses
+about beauty. There isn't a lady in this house as can't converse on
+anything." Madame places her ear to the door, and thrusts her fat
+jewelled fingers under her embroidered apron.
+
+"This is my best parlor, gentlemen," she resumes; "only gentlemen of
+deportment are admitted--I might add, them what takes wine, and, if they
+does get a little in liquor, never loses their dignity." Madame bows,
+and the door of her best parlor swings open, discovering a scene of
+still greater splendor.
+
+"Gentlemen as can't enjoy themselves in my house, don't know how to
+enjoy anything. Them is all gentlemen you see, and them is all ladies
+you see," says the hostess, as we advance timidly into the room, the air
+of which is sickly of perfumes. The foot falls upon the softest of
+carpets; quaint shadows, from stained-glass windows are flitting and
+dancing on the frescoed ceiling; curtains of finest brocade, enveloped
+in lace, fall cloud-like down the windows. The borderings are of
+amber-colored satin, and heavy cornices, over which eagles in gilt are
+perched, surmount the whole. Pictures no artist need be ashamed of
+decorate the walls, groups in bronze and Parian, stand on pedestals
+between the windows, and there is a regal air about the furniture, which
+is of the most elaborate workmanship. But the living figures moving to
+and fro, some in uncouth dresses and some scarce dressed at all, and all
+reflected in the great mirrors, excite the deepest interest. Truly it is
+here that vice has arrayed itself in fascinating splendors, and the
+young and the old have met to pay it tribute. The reckless youth meets
+the man high in power here. The grave exchange salutations with the gay.
+Here the merchant too often meets his clerk, and the father his son.
+And before this promiscuous throng women in bright but scanty drapery,
+and wan faces, flaunt their charms.
+
+Sitting on a sofa, is the fair young girl we saw at the cemetery. By her
+side is a man of venerable presence, endeavoring to engage her in
+conversation. Her face is shadowed in a pensive smile;--she listens to
+what falls from the lips of her companion, shakes her head negatively,
+and watches the movements of a slender, fair-haired young man, who
+saunters alone on the opposite side of the room. He has a deep interest
+in the fair girl, and at every turn casts a look of hate and scorn at
+her companion, who is no less a person than Judge Sleepyhorn, of this
+history.
+
+"Hain't no better wine nowhere, than's got in this house," ejaculates
+the old hostess, calling our attention to a massive side-board, covered
+with cut-glass of various kinds. "A gentleman what's a gentleman may get
+a little tipsy, providin' he do it on wine as is kept in this house, and
+carry himself square." Madame motions patronizingly with her hand, bows
+condescendingly, and says, "Two bottles I think you ordered,
+gentlemen--what gentlemen generally call for."
+
+Having bowed assent, and glad to get off so cheaply, Manfredo, a slave
+in bright livery, is directed to bring it in.
+
+Mr. Snivel enters, to the great delight of the old hostess and various
+friends of the house. "Mr. Snivel is the spirit of this house," resumes
+the old hostess, by way of introduction; "a gentleman of distinction in
+the law." She turns to Mr. Snivel inquiringly. "You sent that ruffin,
+Tom Swiggs, up for me to-day?"
+
+"Lord bless you, yes--gave him two months for contemplation. Get well
+starved at fifteen cents a day----"
+
+"Sorry for the fellow," interrupts the old hostess, sympathizingly.
+"That's what comes a drinkin' bad liquor. Tom used to be a first-rate
+friend of this house--spent heaps of money, and we all liked him so.
+Tried hard to make a man of Tom. Couldn't do it." Madame shakes her head
+in sadness. "Devil got into him, somehow. Ran down, as young men will
+when they gets in the way. I does my part to save them, God knows." A
+tear almost steals into Madame's eyes. "When Tom used to come here,
+looking so down, I'd give him a few dollars, and get him to go somewhere
+else. Had to keep up the dignity of the house, you know. A man as takes
+his liquor as Tom does ain't fit company for my house."
+
+Mr. Snivel says: "As good advice, which I am bound to give his mother, I
+shall say she'd better give him steady lodgings in jail." He turns and
+recognizes his friend, the judge, and advances towards him. As he does
+so, Anna rises quickly to her feet, and with a look of contempt,
+addressing the judge, says, "Never, never. You deceived me once, you
+never shall again. You ask me to separate myself from him. No, never,
+never." And as she turns to walk away the judge seizes her by the hand,
+and retains her. "You must not go yet," he says.
+
+"She shall go!" exclaims the fair young man, who has been watching their
+movements. "Do you know me? I am the George Mulholland you are plotting
+to send to the whipping-post,--to accomplish your vile purposes. No,
+sir, I am not the man you took me for, as I would show you were it not
+for your grey hairs." He releases her from the judge's grasp, and stands
+menacing that high old functionary with his finger. "I care not for your
+power. Take this girl from me, and you pay the penalty with your life.
+We are equals here. Release poor Langdon from prison, and go pay
+penance over the grave of his poor wife. It's the least you can do. You
+ruined her--you can't deny it." Concluding, he clasps the girl in his
+arms, to the surprise of all present, and rushes with her out of the
+house.
+
+The house of Madame Flamingo is in a very distinguished state of
+commotion. Men sensitive of their reputations, and fearing the presence
+of the police, have mysteriously disappeared. Madame is in a fainting
+condition, and several of her heroic damsels have gone screaming out of
+the parlor, and have not been seen since.
+
+Matters have quieted down now. Mr. Snivel consoles the judge for the
+loss of dignity he has suffered, Madame did not quite faint, and there
+is peace in the house.
+
+Manfredo, his countenance sullen, brings in the wine. Manfredo is in bad
+temper to-night. He uncorks the bottles and lets the wine foam over the
+table, the sight of which sends Madame into a state of distress.
+
+"This is all I gets for putting such good livery on you!" she says,
+pushing him aside with great force. "That's thirty-nine for you in the
+morning, well-laid on. You may prepare for it. Might have known better
+(Madame modifies her voice) than buy a nigger of a clergyman!" She
+commences filling the glasses herself, again addressing Manfredo, the
+slave: "Don't do no good to indulge you. This is the way you pay me for
+lettin' you go to church of a Sunday. Can't give a nigger religion
+without his gettin' a big devil in him at the same time."
+
+Manfredo passes the wine to her guests, in sullen silence, and they
+drink to the prosperity of the house.
+
+And now it is past midnight; the music in the next parlor has ceased,
+St. Michael's clock has struck the hour of one, and business is at an
+end in the house of the old hostess. A few languid-looking guests still
+remain, the old hostess is weary with the fatigues of the night, and
+even the gas seems to burn dimmer. The judge and Mr. Snivel are the last
+to take their departure, and bid the hostess good-night. "I could not
+call the fellow out," says the judge, as they wend their way into King
+street. "I can only effect my purpose by getting him into my power. To
+do that you must give me your assistance."
+
+"Remain silent on that point," returns the other. "You have only to
+leave its management to me. Nothing is easier than to get such a fellow
+into the power of the law."
+
+On turning into King street they encounter a small, youthful looking
+man, hatless and coatless, his figure clearly defined in the shadows of
+the gas-light, engaged in a desperate combat with the lamp-post. "Now,
+Sir, defend yourself, and do it like a man, for you have the reputation
+of being a craven coward," says the man, cutting and thrusting furiously
+at the lamp-post; Snivel and Sleepyhorn pause, and look on astonished.
+"Truly the poor man's mad," says Sleepyhorn, touching his companion on
+the arm--"uncommonly mad for the season."
+
+Mr. Snivel whispers, "Not so mad. Only courageously tight." "Gentlemen!"
+says the man, reproachfully, "I am neither mad nor drunk." Here he
+strikes an attitude of defence, cutting one, two, and three with his
+small sword. "I am Mister Midshipman Button--no madman, not a bit of it.
+As brave a man as South Carolina ever sent into the world. A man of
+pluck, Sir, and genuine, at that." Again he turns and makes several
+thrusts at the lamp-post, demanding that it surrender and get down on
+its knees, in abject obedience to superior prowess.
+
+"Button, Button, my dear fellow, is it you? What strange freak is this?"
+inquires Mr. Snivel, extending his hand, which the little energetic man
+refuses to take.
+
+"Mister Midshipman Button, if you please, gentlemen," replies the man,
+with an air of offended dignity. "I'm a gentleman, a man of honor, and
+what's more, a Carolinian bred and born, or born and bred--cut it as you
+like it." He makes several powerful blows at the lamp-post, and succeeds
+only in breaking his sword.
+
+"Poor man," says the judge, kindly, "he is in need of friends to take
+care of him, and advise him properly. He has not far to travel before he
+gets into the mad-house."
+
+The man overhears his remarks, and with a vehement gesture and flourish
+of his broken sword, says, "Do you not see, gentlemen, what work I have
+made of this Northern aggressor, this huge enemy bringing oppression to
+our very doors?" He turns and addresses the lamp-post in a tone of
+superiority. "Surrender like a man, and confess yourself vanquished,
+Northern aggressor that you are! You see, gentlemen, I have gained a
+victory--let all his bowels out. Honor all belongs to my native state--I
+shall resign it all to her." Here the man begins to talk in so wild a
+strain, and to make so many demands of his imaginary enemy, that they
+called a passing guardsman, who, seeing his strange condition, replaced
+his hat, and assisted them in getting him to a place of safety for the
+night, when sleep and time would restore him to a sound state of mind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+IN WHICH THE READER IS PRESENTED WITH A VARIED PICTURE.
+
+
+Tom has passed a restless night in jail. He has dreamed of bottled
+snakes, with eyes wickedly glaring at him; of fiery-tailed serpents
+coiling all over him; of devils in shapes he has no language to
+describe; of the waltz of death, in which he danced at the mansion of
+Madame Flamingo; and of his mother, (a name ever dear in his thoughts,)
+who banished him to this region of vice, for what she esteemed a moral
+infirmity. Further on in his dream he saw a vision, a horrible vision,
+which was no less than a dispute for his person between Madame Flamingo,
+a bishop, and the devil. But Madame Flamingo and the devil, who seemed
+to enjoy each other's company exceedingly, got the better of the bishop,
+who was scrupulous of his dignity, and not a little anxious about being
+seen in such society. And from the horrors of this dream he wakes,
+surprised to find himself watched over by a kind friend--a young,
+comely-featured man, in whom he recognizes the earnest theologian, as he
+is plumed by the prisoners, whom he daily visits in his mission of good.
+There was something so frank and gentle in this young man's
+demeanor--something so manly and radiant in his countenance--something
+so disinterested and holy in his mission of love--something so opposite
+to the coldness of the great world without--something so serene and
+elevated in his youth, that even the most inveterate criminal awaited
+his coming with emotions of joy, and gave a ready ear to his kindly
+advice. Indeed, the prisoners called him their child; and he seemed not
+dainty of their approach, but took them each by the hand, sat at their
+side, addressed them as should one brother address another;--yea, he
+made them to feel that what was their interest it was his joy to
+promote.
+
+The young theologian took him a seat close by the side of the dreaming
+inebriate; and as he woke convulsively, and turned towards him his
+distorted face, viewing with wild stare each object that met his sight,
+the young man met his recognition with a smile and a warm grasp of the
+hand. "I am sorry you find me here again--yes, I am."
+
+"Better men, perhaps, have been here--"
+
+"I am ashamed of it, though; it isn't as it should be, you see,"
+interrupts Tom.
+
+"Never mind--(the young man checks himself)--I was going to say there is
+a chance for you yet; and there is a chance; and you must struggle; and
+I will help you to struggle; and your friends--"
+
+Tom interrupts by saying, "I've no friends."
+
+"I will help you to struggle, and to overcome the destroyer. Never think
+you are friendless, for then you are a certain victim in the hands of
+the ruthless enemy--"
+
+"Well, well," pauses Tom, casting a half-suspicious look at the young
+man, "I forgot. There's you, and him they call old Spunyarn, are
+friends, after all. You'll excuse me, but I didn't think of that;" and a
+feeling of satisfaction seemed to have come over him. "How grateful to
+have friends when a body's in a place of this kind," he mutters
+incoherently, as the tears gush from his distended eyes, and childlike
+he grasps the hand of the young man.
+
+"Be comforted with the knowledge that you have friends, Tom. One
+all-important thing is wanted, and you are a man again."
+
+"As to that!" interrupts Tom, doubtingly, and laying his begrimed hand
+on his burning forehead, while he alternately frets and frisks his
+fingers through his matted hair.
+
+"Have no doubts, Tom--doubts are dangerous."
+
+"Well, say what it is, and I'll try what I can do. But you won't think
+I'm so bad as I seem, and'll forgive me? I know what you think of me,
+and that's what mortifies me; you think I'm an overdone specimen of our
+chivalry--you do!"
+
+"You must banish from your mind these despairing thoughts," replies the
+young man, laying his right hand approvingly on Tom's head. "First,
+Tom," he pursues, "be to yourself a friend; second, forget the error of
+your mother, and forgive her sending you here; and third, cut the house
+of Madame Flamingo, in which our chivalry are sure to get a shattering.
+To be honest in temptation, Tom, is one of the noblest attributes of our
+nature; and to be capable of forming and maintaining a resolution to
+shake off the thraldom of vice, and to place oneself in the serener
+atmosphere of good society, is equally worthy of the highest
+commendation."
+
+Tom received this in silence, and seemed hesitating between what he
+conceived an imperative demand and the natural inclination of his
+passions.
+
+"Give me your hand, and with it your honor--I know you yet retain the
+latent spark--and promise me you will lock up the cup--"
+
+"You'll give a body a furlough, by the way of blowing off the fuddle he
+has on hand?"
+
+"I do not withhold from you any discretionary indulgence that may bring
+relief--"
+
+Tom interrupts by saying, "My mother, you know!"
+
+"I will see her, and plead with her on your behalf; and if she have a
+mother's feelings I can overcome her prejudice."
+
+Tom says, despondingly, he has no home to go to. It's no use seeing his
+mother; she's all dignity, and won't let it up an inch. "If I could only
+persuade her--" Tom pauses here and shakes his head.
+
+"Pledge me your honor you'll from this day form a resolution to reform,
+Tom; and if I do not draw from your mother a reconciliation, I will seek
+a home for you elsewhere."
+
+"Well, there can't be much harm in an effort, at all events; and here's
+my hand, in sincerity. But it won't do to shut down until I get over
+this bit of a fog I'm now in." With childlike simplicity, Tom gives his
+hand to the young man, who, as old Spunyarn enters the cell to, as he
+says, get the latitude of his friend's nerves, departs in search of Mrs.
+Swiggs.
+
+Mrs. Swiggs is the stately old member of a crispy old family, that, like
+numerous other families in the State, seem to have outlived two
+chivalrous generations, fed upon aristocracy, and are dying out
+contemplating their own greatness. Indeed, the Swiggs family, while it
+lived and enjoyed the glory of its name, was very like the Barnwell
+family of this day, who, one by one, die off with the very pardonable
+and very harmless belief that the world never can get along without the
+aid of South Carolina, it being the parthenon from which the outside
+world gets all its greatness. Her leading and very warlike newspapers,
+(the people of these United States ought to know, if they do not
+already,) it was true, were editorialized, as it was politely called in
+the little State-militant, by a species of unreputationized Jew and
+Yankee; but this you should know--if you do not already, gentle
+reader--that it is only because such employments are regarded by the
+lofty-minded chivalry as of too vulgar a nature to claim a place in
+their attention.
+
+The clock of old Saint Michaels, a clock so tenacious of its dignity as
+to go only when it pleases, and so aristocratic in its habits as not to
+go at all in rainy weather;--a clock held in great esteem by the "very
+first families," has just struck eleven. The young, pale-faced
+missionary inquiringly hesitates before a small, two-story building of
+wood, located on the upper side of Church street, and so crabbed in
+appearance that you might, without endangering your reputation, have
+sworn it had incorporated in its framework a portion of that chronic
+disease for which the State has gained for itself an unenviable
+reputation. Jutting out of the black, moss-vegetating roof, is an
+old-maidish looking window, with a dowdy white curtain spitefully tucked
+up at the side. The mischievous young negroes have pecked half the
+bricks out of the foundation, and with them made curious grottoes on the
+pavement. Disordered and unpainted clapboards spread over the dingy
+front, which is set off with two upper and two lower windows, all
+blockaded with infirm, green shutters. Then there is a snuffy door,
+high and narrow (like the State's notions), and reached by six venerable
+steps and a stoop, carefully guarded with a pine hand-rail, fashionably
+painted in blue, and looking as dainty as the State's white glove. This,
+reader, is the abode of the testy but extremely dignified Mrs. Swiggs.
+If you would know how much dignity can be crowded into the smallest
+space, you have only to look in here and be told (she closely patterns
+after the State in all things!) that fifty-five summers of her crispy
+life have been spent here, reading Milton's Paradise Lost and
+contemplating the greatness of her departed family.
+
+The old steps creak and complain as the young man ascends them, holding
+nervously on at the blue hand-rail, and reaching in due time the stoop,
+the strength of which he successively tests with his right foot, and
+stands contemplating the snuffy door. A knocker painted in villanous
+green--a lion-headed knocker, of grave deportment, looking as savage as
+lion can well do in this chivalrous atmosphere, looks admonitiously at
+him. "Well!" he sighs as he raises it, "there's no knowing what sort of
+a reception I may get." He has raised the monster's head and given three
+gentle taps. Suddenly a frisking and whispering, shutting of doors and
+tripping of feet, is heard within; and after a lapse of several minutes
+the door swings carefully open, and the dilapidated figure of an old
+negro woman, lean, shrunken, and black as Egyptian darkness--with
+serious face and hanging lip, the picture of piety and starvation,
+gruffly asks who he is and what he wants?
+
+Having requested an interview with her mistress, this decrepit specimen
+of human infirmity half closes the door against him and doddles back. A
+slight whispering, and Mrs. Swiggs is heard to say--"show him into the
+best parlor." And into the best parlor, and into the august presence of
+Mrs. Swiggs is he ushered. The best parlor is a little, dingy room, low
+of ceiling, and skirted with a sombre-colored surbase, above which is
+papering, the original color of which it would be difficult to discover.
+A listen carpet, much faded and patched, spreads over the floor, the
+walls are hung with several small engravings, much valued for their age
+and associations, but so crooked as to give one the idea of the house
+having withstood a storm at sea; and the furniture is made up of a few
+venerable mahogany chairs, a small side-table, on which stands, much
+disordered, several well-worn books and papers, two patch-covered
+foot-stools, a straight-backed rocking-chair, in which the august woman
+rocks her straighter self, and a great tin cage, from between the bars
+of which an intelligent parrot chatters--"my lady, my lady, my lady!"
+There is a cavernous air about the place, which gives out a sickly odor,
+exciting the suggestion that it might at some time have served as a
+receptacle for those second-hand coffins the State buries its poor in.
+
+"Well! who are you? And what do you want? You have brought letters, I
+s'pose?" a sharp, squeaking voice, speaks rapidly.
+
+The young man, without waiting for an invitation to sit down, takes
+nervously a seat at the side-table, saying he has come on a mission of
+love.
+
+"Love! love! eh? Young man--know that you have got into the wrong
+house!" Mrs. Swiggs shakes her head, squeaking out with great animation.
+
+There she sits, Milton's "Paradise Lost" in her witch-like fingers,
+herself lean enough for the leanest of witches, and seeming to have
+either shrunk away from the faded black silk dress in which she is clad,
+or passed through half a century of starvation merely to bolster up her
+dignity. A sharp, hatchet-face, sallow and corrugated; two wicked gray
+eyes, set deep in bony sockets; a long, irregular nose, midway of which
+is adjusted a pair of broad, brass-framed spectacles; a sunken,
+purse-drawn mouth, with two discolored teeth protruding from her upper
+lip; a high, narrow forehead, resembling somewhat crumpled parchment; a
+dash of dry, brown hair relieving the ponderous border of her
+steeple-crowned cap, which she seems to have thrown on her head in a
+hurry; a moth-eaten, red shawl thrown spitefully over her shoulders,
+disclosing a sinewy and sassafras-colored neck above, and the small end
+of a gold chain in front, and, reader, you have the august Mrs. Swiggs,
+looking as if she diets on chivalry and sour krout. She is indeed a nice
+embodiment of several of those qualities which the State clings
+tenaciously to, and calls its own, for she lives on the labor of eleven
+aged negroes, five of whom are cripples.
+
+The young man smiles, as Mrs. Swiggs increases the velocity of her
+rocking, lays her right hand on the table, rests her left on her Milton,
+and continues to reiterate that he has got into the wrong house.
+
+"I have no letter, Madam--"
+
+"I never receive people without letters--never!" again she interrupts,
+testily.
+
+"But you see, Madam--"
+
+"No I don't. I don't see anything about it!" again she interposes,
+adjusting her spectacles, and scanning him anxiously from head to foot.
+"Ah, yes (she twitches her head), I see what you are--"
+
+"I was going to say, if you please, Madam, that my mission may serve as
+a passport--"
+
+"I'm of a good family, you must know, young man. You could have learned
+that of anybody before seeking this sort of an introduction. Any of our
+first families could have told you about me. You must go your way, young
+man!" And she twitches her head, and pulls closer about her lean
+shoulders the old red shawl.
+
+"I (if you will permit me, Madam) am not ignorant of the very high
+standing of your famous family--" Madam interposes by saying, every
+muscle of her frigid face unmoved the while, she is glad he knows
+something, "having read of them in a celebrated work by one of our more
+celebrated genealogists--"
+
+"But you should have brought a letter from the Bishop! and upon that
+based your claims to a favorable reception. Then you have read of Sir
+Sunderland Swiggs, my ancestor? Ah! he was such a Baron, and owned such
+estates in the days of Elizabeth. But you should have brought a letter,
+young man." Mrs. Swiggs replies rapidly, alternately raising and
+lowering her squeaking voice, twitching her head, and grasping tighter
+her Milton.
+
+"Those are his arms and crest." She points with her Milton to a singular
+hieroglyphic, in a wiry black frame, resting on the marble-painted
+mantelpiece. "He was very distinguished in his time; and such an
+excellent Christian." She shakes her head and wipes the tears from her
+spectacles, as her face, which had before seemed carved in wormwood,
+slightly relaxes the hardness of its muscles.
+
+"I remember having seen favorable mention of Sir Sunderland's name in
+the book I refer to--"
+
+She again interposes. The young man watches her emotions with a
+penetrating eye, conscious that he has touched a chord in which all the
+milk of kindness is not dried up.
+
+"It's a true copy of the family arms. Everybody has got to having arms
+now-a-days. (She points to the indescribable scrawl over the
+mantelpiece.) It was got through Herald King, of London, who they say
+keeps her Majesty's slippers and the great seal of State. We were very
+exact, you see. Yes, sir--we were very exact. Our vulgar people, you
+see--I mean such as have got up by trade, and that sort of thing--went
+to a vast expense in sending to England a man of great learning and much
+aforethought, to ransack heraldry court and trace out their families.
+Well, he went, lived very expensively, spent several years abroad, and
+being very clever in his way, returned, bringing them all pedigrees of
+the very best kind. With only two exceptions, he traced them all down
+into noble blood. These two, the cunning fellow had it, came of martyrs.
+And to have come of the blood of martyrs, when all the others, as was
+shown, came of noble blood, so displeased--the most ingenious (the old
+lady shakes her head regrettingly) can't please everybody--the living
+members of these families, that they refused to pay the poor man for his
+researches, so he was forced to resort to a suit at law. And to this day
+(I don't say it disparagingly of them!) both families stubbornly refuse
+to accept the pedigree. They are both rich grocers, you see! and on this
+account we were very particular about ours."
+
+The young man thought it well not to interrupt the old woman's display
+of weakness, inasmuch as it might produce a favorable change in her
+feelings.
+
+"And now, young man, what mission have you besides love?" she inquires,
+adding an encouraging look through her spectacles.
+
+"I am come to intercede--"
+
+"You needn't talk of interceding with me; no you needn't! I've nothing
+to intercede about"--she twitches her head spitefully.
+
+"In behalf of your son."
+
+"There--there! I knew there was some mischief. You're a Catholic! I knew
+it. Never saw one of your black-coated flock about that there wasn't
+mischief brewing--never! I can't read my Milton in peace for you--"
+
+"But your son is in prison, Madam, among criminals, and subject to the
+influence of their habits--"
+
+"Precisely where I put him--where he won't disgrace the family; yes,
+where he ought to be, and where he shall rot, for all me. Now, go your
+way, young man; and read your Bible at home, and keep out of prisons;
+and don't be trying to make Jesuits of hardened scamps like that Tom of
+mine."
+
+"I am a Christian: I would like to extend a Christian's hand to your
+son. I may replace him on the holy pedestal he has fallen from--"
+
+"You are very aggravating, young man. Do you live in South Carolina?"
+
+The young man says he does. He is proud of the State that can boast so
+many excellent families.
+
+"I am glad of that," she says, looking querulously over her spectacles,
+as she twitches her chin, and increases the velocity of her rocking. "I
+wonder how folks can live out of it."
+
+"As to that, Madam, permit me to say, I am happy to see and appreciate
+your patriotism; but if you will grant me an order of release--"
+
+"I won't hear a word now! You're very aggravating, young man--very! He
+has disgraced the family; I have put him where he is seven times; he
+shall rot were he is! He never shall disgrace the family again. Think of
+Sir Sunderland Swiggs, and then think of him, and see what a pretty
+level the family has come to! That's the place for him, I have told him
+a dozen times how I wished him gone. The quicker he is out of the way,
+the better for the name of the family."
+
+The young man waits the end of this colloquy with a smile on his
+countenance. "I have no doubt I can work your son's reform--perhaps make
+him an honor to the family--"
+
+"He honor the family!" she interrupts, twitches the shawl about her
+shoulders, and permits herself to get into a state of general
+excitement. "I should like to see one who has disgraced the family as
+much as he has think of honoring it--"
+
+"Through kindness and forbearance, Madam, a great deal may be done," the
+young man replies.
+
+"Now, you are very provoking, young man--very. Let other people alone;
+go your way home, and study your Bible." And with this the old lady
+calls Rebecca, the decrepit slave who opened the door, and directs her
+to show the young man out. "There now!" she says testily, turning to the
+marked page of her Milton.
+
+The young man contemplates her for a few moments, but, having no
+alternative, leaves reluctantly.
+
+On reaching the stoop he encounters the tall, handsome figure of a man,
+whose face is radiant with smiles, and his features ornamented with
+neatly-combed Saxon hair and beard, and who taps the old negress under
+the chin playfully, as she says, "Missus will be right glad to see you,
+Mr. Snivel--that she will." And he bustles his way laughing into the
+presence of the old lady, as if he had news of great importance for
+her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+A FEW REFLECTIONS ON THE CURE OF VICE.
+
+
+Disappointed, and not a little chagrined, at the failure of his mission,
+the young man muses over the next best course to pursue. He has the
+inebriate's welfare at heart; he knows there is no state of degradation
+so low that the victim cannot, under proper care, be reclaimed from it;
+and he feels duty calling loudly to him not to stand trembling on the
+brink, but to enter the abode of the victim, and struggle to make clean
+the polluted. Vice, he says to himself, is not entailed in the heart;
+and if you would modify and correct the feelings inclined to evil, you
+must first feed the body, then stimulate the ambition; and when you have
+got the ambition right, seek a knowledge of the heart, and apply to it
+those mild and judicious remedies which soften its action, and give life
+to new thoughts and a higher state of existence. Once create the vine of
+moral rectitude, and its branches will soon get where they can take care
+of themselves. But to give the vine creation in poor soil, your watching
+must exhibit forbearance, and your care a delicate hand. The
+stubbornly-inclined nature, when coupled with ignorance, is that in
+which vice takes deepest root, as it is, when educated, that against
+which vice is least effectual. To think of changing the natural
+inclination of such natures with punishment, or harsh correctives, is as
+useless as would be an attempt to stop the ebbing and flowing of the
+tide. You must nurture the feelings, he thought, create a
+susceptibility, get the heart right, by holding out the value of a
+better state of things, and make the head to feel that you are sincere
+in your work of love; and, above all, you must not forget the stomach,
+for if that go empty crime will surely creep into the head. You cannot
+correct moral infirmity by confining the victim of it among criminals,
+for no greater punishment can be inflicted on the feelings of man; and
+punishment destroys rather than encourages the latent susceptibility of
+our better nature. In nine cases out of ten, improper punishment makes
+the hardened criminals with which your prisons are filled, destroying
+forever that spark of ambition which might have been fostered into a
+means to higher ends.
+
+And as the young man thus muses, there recurs to his mind the picture of
+old Absalom McArthur, a curious old man, but excessively kind, and
+always ready to do "a bit of a good turn for one in need," as he would
+say when a needy friend sought his assistance. McArthur is a dealer in
+curiosities, is a venerable curiosity himself, and has always something
+on hand to meet the wants of a community much given to antiquity and
+broken reputations.
+
+The young theologian will seek this good old man. He feels that time
+will work a favorable revolution in the feelings of Tom's mother; and to
+be prepared for that happy event he will plead a shelter for him under
+McArthur's roof.
+
+And now, generous reader, we will, with your permission, permit him to
+go on his errand of mercy, while we go back and see how Tom prospers at
+the old prison. You, we well know, have not much love of prisons. But
+unless we do now and then enter them, our conceptions of how much misery
+man can inflict upon man will be small indeed.
+
+The man of sailor-like deportment, and whom the prisoners salute with
+the sobriquet of "Old Spunyarn," entered, you will please remember, the
+cell, as the young theologian left in search of Mrs. Swiggs, "I thought
+I'd just haul my tacks aboard, run up a bit, and see what sort of
+weather you were making, Tom," says he, touching clumsily his
+small-brimmed, plait hat, as he recognizes the young man, whom he
+salutes in that style so frank and characteristic of the craft. "He's a
+bit better, sir--isn't he?" inquires Spunyarn, his broad, honest face,
+well browned and whiskered, warming with a glow of satisfaction.
+
+Receiving an answer in the affirmative, he replies he is right glad of
+it, not liking to see a shipmate in a drift. And he gives his quid a
+lurch aside, throws his hat carelessly upon the floor, shrugs his
+shoulders, and as he styles it, nimbly brings himself to a mooring, at
+Tom's side. "It's a hard comforter, this state. I don't begrudge your
+mother the satisfaction she gets of sending you here. In her eyes, ye
+see, yeer fit only to make fees out on, for them ar lawyer chaps. They'd
+keep puttin' a body in an' out here during his natural life, just for
+the sake of gettin', the fees. They don't care for such things as you
+and I. We hain't no rights; and if we had, why we hain't no power. This
+carry in' too much head sail, Tom, won't do--'twon't!" Spunyarn shakes
+his head reprovingly, fusses over Tom, turns him over on his wales, as
+he has it, and finally gets him on his beam's ends, a besotted wreck
+unable to carry his canvas. "Lost yeer reckoning eh, Tom?" he continues
+as that bewildered individual stares vacantly at him. The inebriate
+contorts painfully his face, presses and presses his hands to his
+burning forehead, and says they are firing a salute in his head, using
+his brains for ammunition.
+
+"Well, now Tom, seein' as how I'm a friend of yourn--"
+
+"Friend of mine?" interrupts Tom, shaking his head, and peering through
+his fingers mistrustfully.
+
+"And this is a hard lee shore you've beached upon; I'll lend ye a hand
+to get in the head sail, and get the craft trimmed up a little. A dash
+of the same brine will help keep the ballast right, then a skysail-yard
+breakfast must be carefully stowed away, in order to give a firmness to
+the timbers, and on the strength of these two blocks for shoring up the
+hull, you must begin little by little, and keep on brightening up until
+you have got the craft all right again. And when you have got her right
+you must keep her right. I say, Tom!--it won't do. You must reef down,
+or the devil'll seize the helm in one of these blows, and run you into a
+port too warm for pea-jackets." For a moment, Spunyarn seems half
+inclined to grasp Tom by his collarless coat and shake the hydrophobia,
+as he calls it, out of him; then, as if incited by a second thought, he
+draws from his shirt-bosom a large, wooden comb, and humming a tune
+commences combing and fussing over Tom's hair, which stands erect over
+his head like marlinspikes. At length he gets a craft-like set upon his
+foretop, and turning his head first to the right, then to the left, as a
+child does a doll, he views him with an air of exultation. "I tell you
+what it is, Tom," he continues, relieving him of the old coat, "the
+bright begins to come! There's three points of weather made already."
+
+"God bless you, Spunyarn," replies Tom, evidently touched by the
+frankness and generosity of the old sailor. Indeed there was something
+so whole-hearted about old Spunyarn, that he was held in universal
+esteem by every one in jail, with the single exception of Milman Mingle,
+the vote-cribber.
+
+"Just think of yourself, Tom--don't mind me," pursues the sailor as Tom
+squeezes firmly his hand. "You've had a hard enough time of it--" Tom
+interrupts by saying, as he lays his hands upon his sides, he is sore
+from head to foot.
+
+"Don't wonder," returns the sailor. "It's a great State, this South
+Carolina. It seems swarming with poor and powerless folks. Everybody has
+power to put everybody in jail, where the State gives a body two
+dog's-hair and rope-yarn blankets to lay upon, and grants the sheriff,
+Mr. Hardscrable, full license to starve us, and put the thirty cents a
+day it provides for our living into his breeches pockets. Say what you
+will about it, old fellow, it's a brief way of doing a little profit in
+the business of starvation. I don't say this with any ill-will to the
+State that regards its powerless and destitute with such criminal
+contempt--I don't." And he brings water, gets Tom upon his feet, forces
+him into a clean shirt, and regards him in the light of a child whose
+reformation he is determined on perfecting. He sees that in the fallen
+man which implies a hope of ultimate usefulness, notwithstanding the
+sullen silence, the gloomy frown on his knitted brow, and the general
+air of despair that pervades the external man.
+
+"There!" he exclaims, having improved the personal of the inebriate, and
+folding his arms as he steps back apace to have a better view of his
+pupil--"now, don't think of being triced up in this dreary vault. Be
+cheerful, brace up your resolution--never let the devil think you know
+he is trying to put the last seal on your fate--never!" Having slipped
+the black kerchief from his own neck, he secures it about Tom's, adjusts
+the shark's bone at the throat, and mounts the braid hat upon his head
+with a hearty blow on the crown. "Look at yourself! They'd mistake you
+for a captain of the foretop," he pursues, and good-naturedly he lays
+his broad, browned hands upon Tom's shoulders, and forces him up to a
+triangular bit of glass secured with three tacks to the wall.
+
+Tom's hands wander down his sides as he contemplates himself in the
+glass, saying: "I look a shade up, I reckon! And I feel--I have to thank
+you for it, Spunyarn--something different all over me. God bless you! I
+won't forget you. But I'm hungry; that's all that ails me now.
+
+"I may thank my mother--"
+
+"Thank yourself, Tom," interposes the sailor.
+
+"For all this. She has driven me to this; yes, she has made my soul dead
+with despair!" And he bursts into a wild, fierce laugh. A moment's
+pause, and he says, in a subdued voice, "I'm a slave, a fool, a wanderer
+in search of his own distress."
+
+The kind-hearted sailor seats his pupil upon a board bench, and proceeds
+down stairs, where, with the bribe of a glass of whiskey, he induces the
+negro cook to prepare for Tom a bowl of coffee and a biscuit. In truth,
+we must confess, that Spunyarn was so exceedingly liberal of his
+friendship that he would at times appropriate to himself the personal
+effects of his neighbors. But we must do him justice by saying that this
+was only when a friend in need claimed his attention. And this generous
+propensity he the more frequently exercised upon the effects--whiskey,
+cold ham, crackers and cheese--of the vote-cribber, whom he regards as a
+sort of cold-hearted land-lubber, whose political friends outside were
+not what they should be. If the vote-cribber's aristocratic friends (and
+South Carolina politicians were much given to dignity and bad whiskey)
+sent him luxuries that tantalized the appetites of poverty-oppressed
+debtors, and poor prisoners starving on a pound of bread a-day, Spunyarn
+held this a legitimate plea for holding in utter contempt the right to
+such gifts. And what was more singular of this man was, that he always
+knew the latitude and longitude of the vote-cribber's bottle, and what
+amount of water was necessary to keep up the gauge he had reduced in
+supplying his flask.
+
+And now that Tom's almost hopeless condition presents a warrantable
+excuse, (the vote-cribber has this moment passed into the cell to take a
+cursory glance at Tom,) Spunyarn slips nimbly into the vote-cribber's
+cell, withdraws a brick from the old chimney, and seizing the black neck
+of a blacker bottle, drags it forth, holds it in the shadow of the
+doorway, squints exultingly at the contents, shrugs his stalwart
+shoulders, and empties a third of the liquid, which he replaces with
+water from a bucket near by, into his tin-topped flask. This done, he
+ingeniously replaces the bottle, slides the flask suspiciously into his
+bosom, saying, "It'll taste just as strong to a vote-cribber," and seeks
+that greasy potentate, the prison cook. This dignitary has always laid
+something aside for Spunyarn; he knows Spunyarn has something laid aside
+for him, which makes the condition mutual.
+
+"A new loafer let loose on the world!" says the vote-cribber, entering
+the domain of the inebriate with a look of fierce scorn. "The State is
+pestered to death with such things as you. What do they send you here
+for?--disturbing the quiet and respectability of the prison! You're only
+fit to enrich the bone-yard--hardly that; perhaps only for lawyers to
+get fees of. The State'll starve you, old Hardscrabble'll make a few
+dollars out of your feed--but what of that? We don't want you here."
+There was something so sullen and mysterious in the coarse features of
+this stalwart man--something so revolting in his profession, though it
+was esteemed necessary to the elevation of men seeking political
+popularity--something so at variance with common sense in the punishment
+meted out to him who followed it, as to create a deep interest in his
+history, notwithstanding his coldness towards the inebriate. And yet you
+sought in vain for one congenial or redeeming trait in the character of
+this man.
+
+"I always find you here; you're a fixture, I take it--"
+
+The vote-cribber interrupts the inebriate--"Better have said a patriot!"
+
+"Well," returns the inebriate, "a patriot then; have it as you like it.
+I'm not over-sensitive of the distinction." The fallen man drops his
+head into his hands, stabbed with remorse, while the vote-cribber folds
+his brawny arms leisurely, paces to and fro before him, and scans him
+with his keen, gray eyes, after the manner of one mutely contemplating
+an imprisoned animal.
+
+"You need not give yourself so much concern about me--"
+
+"I was only thinking over in my head what a good subject to crib, a week
+or two before fall election, you'd be. You've a vote?"
+
+Tom good-naturedly says he has. He always throws it for the "old
+Charleston" party, being sure of a release, as are some dozen caged
+birds, just before election.
+
+"I have declared eternal hatred against that party; never pays its
+cribbers!" Mingle scornfully retorts; and having lighted his pipe,
+continues his pacing. "As for this jail," he mutters to himself, "I've
+no great respect for it; but there is a wide difference between a man
+who they put in here for sinning against himself, and one who only
+violates a law of the State, passed in opposition to popular opinion.
+However, you seem brightened up a few pegs, and, only let whiskey alone,
+you may be something yet. Keep up an acquaintance with the pump, and be
+civil to respectable prisoners, that's all."
+
+This admonition of the vote-cribber had a deeper effect on the feelings
+of the inebriate than was indicated by his outward manner. He had
+committed no crime, and yet he found himself among criminals of every
+kind; and what was worse, they affected to look down upon him. Had he
+reached a state of degradation so low that even the felon loathed his
+presence? Was he an outcast, stripped of every means of reform--of
+making himself a man? Oh no! The knife of the destroyer had plunged
+deep--disappointment had tortured his brain--he was drawn deeper into
+the pool of misery by the fatal fascinations of the house of Madame
+Flamingo, where, shunned by society, he had sought relief--but there was
+yet one spark of pride lingering in his heart. That spark the
+vote-cribber had touched; and with that spark Tom resolved to kindle for
+himself a new existence. He had pledged his honor to the young
+theologian; he would not violate it.
+
+The old sailor, with elated feelings, and bearing in his hands a bowl of
+coffee and two slices of toasted bread, is accosted by several
+suspicious-looking prisoners, who have assembled in the corridor for the
+purpose of scenting fresh air, with sundry questions concerning the
+state of his pupil's health.
+
+"He has had a rough night," the sailor answers, "but is now a bit calm.
+In truth, he only wants a bit of good steering to get him into smooth
+weather again." Thus satisfying the inquirers, he hurries up stairs as
+the vote-cribber hurries down, and setting his offering on the
+window-sill, draws from his bosom the concealed flask. "There, Tom!" he
+says, with childlike satisfaction, holding the flask before him--"only
+two pulls. To-morrow reef down to one; and the day after swear a
+dissolution of copartnership, for this chap (he points to the whiskey)
+is too mighty for you."
+
+Tom hesitates, as if questioning the quality of the drug he is about to
+administer.
+
+"Only two!" interrupts the sailor. "It will reduce the ground-swell a
+bit." The outcast places the flask to his lips, and having drank with
+contorted face passes it back with a sigh, and extends his right hand.
+"My honor is nothing to the world, Spunyarn, but it is yet something to
+me; and by it I swear (here he grasps tighter the hand of the old
+sailor, as a tear moistens his suffused cheeks) never to touch the
+poison again. It has grappled me like a fierce animal I could not shake
+off; it has made me the scoffed of felons--I will cease to be its
+victim; and having gained the victory, be hereafter a friend to myself."
+
+"God bless you--may you never want a friend, Tom--and may He give you
+strength to keep the resolution. That's my wish." And the old sailor
+shook Tom's hand fervently, in pledge of his sincerity.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+IN WHICH MR. SNIVEL, COMMONLY CALLED THE ACCOMMODATION MAN, IS
+INTRODUCED, AND WHAT TAKES PLACE BETWEEN HIM AND MRS. SWIGGS.
+
+
+Reader! have you ever witnessed how cleverly one of our mob-politicians
+can, through the all-soothing medium of a mint-julep, transpose himself
+from a mass of passion and bad English into a child of perfect
+equanimity? If not, perhaps you have witnessed in our halls of Congress
+the sudden transition through which some of our Carolina members pass
+from a state of stupidity to a state of pugnacity? (We refer only to
+those members who do their own "stumping," and as a natural consequence,
+get into Congress through abuse of the North, bad whiskey, and a
+profusion of promises to dissolve the Union.) And if you have, you may
+form some idea of the suddenness with which Lady Swiggs, as she delights
+in having her friends call her, transposes herself from the incarnation
+of a viper into a creature of gentleness, on hearing announced the name
+of Mr. Soloman Snivel.
+
+"What!--my old friend! I wish I had words to say how glad I am to see
+you, Lady Swiggs!" exclaims a tall, well-proportioned and
+handsome-limbed man, to whose figure a fashionable claret-colored frock
+coat, white vest, neatly-fitting dark-brown trowsers, highly-polished
+boots, a cluster of diamonds set in an avalanche of corded shirt-bosom,
+and carelessly-tied green cravat, lend a respectability better imagined
+than described. A certain reckless dash about him, not common to a
+refined gentleman, forces us to set him down as one of those individuals
+who hold an uncertain position in society; and though they may now and
+then mingle with men of refinement, have their more legitimate sphere in
+a fashionable world of doubtful character.
+
+"Why!--Mr. Snivel. Is it you?" responds the old woman, reciprocating his
+warm shake of the hand, and getting her hard face into a smile.
+
+"I am so glad--But (Mr. Snivel interrupts himself) never mind that!"
+
+"You have some important news?" hastily inquires Mrs. Swiggs, laying a
+bit of muslin carefully between the pages of her Milton, and returning
+it to the table, saying she has just been grievously provoked by one of
+that black-coated flock who go about the city in search of lambs. They
+always remind her of light-houses pointing the road to the dominions of
+the gentleman in black.
+
+"Something very important!" parenthesises Soloman--"very." And he shakes
+his head, touches her significantly on the arm with his orange-colored
+glove,--he smiles insidiously.
+
+"Pray be seated, Mr. Snivel. Rebecca!--bring Mr. Snivel the
+rocking-chair."
+
+"You see, my good Madam, there's such a rumor about town this morning!
+(Soloman again taps her on the arm with his glove.) The cat has got out
+of the bag--it's all up with the St. Cecilia!--"
+
+"Do, Rebecca, make haste with the rocking-chair!" eagerly interrupts
+the old woman, addressing herself to the negress, who fusses her way
+into the room with a great old-fashioned rocking-chair. "I am so
+sensitive of the character of that society," she continues with a sigh,
+and wipes and rubs her spectacles, gets up and views herself in the
+glass, frills over her cap border, and becomes very generally anxious.
+Mrs. Swiggs is herself again. She nervously adjusts the venerable red
+shawl about her shoulders, draws the newly-introduced arm-chair near her
+own, ("I'm not so old, but am getting a little deaf," she says), and
+begs her visitor will be seated.
+
+Mr. Soloman, having paced twice or thrice up and down the little room,
+contemplating himself in the glass at each turn, now touching his
+neatly-trimmed Saxon mustache and whiskers, then frisking his fingers
+through his candy-colored hair, brings his dignity into the chair.
+
+"I said it was all up with the St. Cecilia--"
+
+"Yes!" interrupts Mrs. Swiggs, her eyes glistening like balls of fire,
+her lower jaw falling with the weight of anxiety, and fretting rapidly
+her bony hands.
+
+Soloman suddenly pauses, says that was a glorious bottle of old Madeira
+with which he enjoyed her hospitality on his last visit. The flavor of
+it is yet fresh in his mouth.
+
+"Thank you--thank you! Mr. Soloman. I've a few more left. But pray lose
+no time in disclosing to me what hath befallen the St. Cecilia."
+
+"Well then--but what I say must be in confidence. (The old woman says it
+never shall get beyond her lips--never!) An Englishman of goodly looks,
+fashion, and money--and, what is more in favor with our first families,
+a Sir attached to his name, being of handsome person and accomplished
+manners, and travelling and living after the manner of a nobleman, (some
+of our first families are simple enough to identify a Baronet with
+nobility!) was foully set upon by the fairest and most marriageable
+belles of the St. Cecilia. If he had possessed a dozen hearts, he could
+have had good markets for them all. There was such a getting up of
+attentions! Our fashionable mothers did their very best in arraying the
+many accomplishments of their consignable daughters, setting forth in
+the most foreign but not over-refined phraseology, their extensive
+travels abroad--"
+
+"Yes!" interrupts Mrs. Swiggs, nervously--"I know how they do it. It's a
+pardonable weakness." And she reaches out her hand and takes to her lap
+her inseparable Milton.
+
+"And the many marked attentions--offers, in fact--they have received at
+the hands of Counts and Earls, with names so unpronounceable that they
+have outlived memory--"
+
+"Perhaps I have them in my book of autographs!" interrupts the credulous
+old woman, making an effort to rise and proceed to an antique side-board
+covered with grotesque-looking papers.
+
+Mr. Soloman urbanely touches her on the arm--begs she will keep her
+seat. The names only apply to things of the past. He proceeds,
+"Well--being a dashing fellow, as I have said--he played his game
+charmingly. Now he flirted with this one, and then with that one, and
+finally with the whole society, not excepting the very flirtable married
+ladies;--that is, I mean those whose husbands were simple enough to let
+him. Mothers were in a great flutter generally, and not a day passed but
+there was a dispute as to which of their daughters he would link his
+fortunes with and raise to that state so desirable in the eyes of our
+very republican first families--the State-Militant of nobility--"
+
+"I think none the worse of 'em for that," says the old woman, twitching
+her wizard-like head in confirmation of her assertion. "My word for it,
+Mr. Soloman, to get up in the world, and to be above the common herd, is
+the grand ambition of our people; and our State has got the grand
+position it now holds before the world through the influence of this
+ambition."
+
+"True!--you are right there, my dear friend. You may remember, I have
+always said you had the penetration of a statesman, (Mrs. Swiggs makes a
+curt bow, as a great gray cat springs into her lap and curls himself
+down on her Milton;) and, as I was going on to say of this dashing
+Baronet, he played our damsels about in agony, as an old sportsman does
+a covey of ducks, wounding more in the head than in the heart, and
+finally creating no end of a demand for matrimony. To-day, all the town
+was positive, he would marry the beautiful Miss Boggs; to-morrow it was
+not so certain that he would not marry the brilliant and
+all-accomplished Miss Noggs; and the next day he was certain of marrying
+the talented and very wealthy heiress, Miss Robbs. Mrs. Stepfast, highly
+esteemed in fashionable society, and the very best gossip-monger in the
+city, had confidentially spread it all over the neighborhood that Mr.
+Stepfast told her the young Baronet told him (and he verily believed he
+was head and ears in love with her!) Miss Robbs was the most lovely
+creature he had seen since he left Belgravia. And then he went into a
+perfect rhapsody of excitement while praising the poetry of her motion,
+the grace with which she performed the smallest offices of the
+drawing-room, her queenly figure, her round, alabaster arms, her smooth,
+tapering hands, (so chastely set off with two small diamonds, and so
+unlike the butchers' wives of this day, who bedazzle themselves all the
+day long with cheap jewelry,)--the beautiful swell of her marble bust,
+the sweet smile ever playing over her thoughtful face, the regularity of
+her Grecian features, and those great, languishing eyes, constantly
+flashing with the light of irresistible love. Quoth ye! according to
+what Mr. Stepfast told Mrs. Stepfast, the young Baronet would, with the
+ideal of a real poet, as was he, have gone on recounting her charms
+until sundown, had not Mr. Stepfast invited him to a quiet family
+dinner. And to confirm what Mr. Stepfast said, Miss Robbs had been seen
+by Mrs. Windspin looking in at Mrs. Stebbins', the fashionable
+dress-maker, while the young Baronet had twice been at Spears', in King
+Street, to select a diamond necklace of great value, which he left
+subject to the taste of Miss Robbs. And putting them two and them two
+together there was something in it!"
+
+"I am truly glad it's nothing worse. There has been so much scandal got
+up by vulgar people against our St. Cecilia."
+
+"Worse, Madam?" interpolates our hero, ere she has time to conclude her
+sentence, "the worst is to come yet."
+
+"And I'm a member of the society!" Mrs. Swiggs replies with a
+languishing sigh, mistaking the head of the cat for her Milton, and
+apologizing for her error as that venerable animal, having got well
+squeezed, sputters and springs from her grasp, shaking his head,
+"elected solely on the respectability of my family."
+
+Rather a collapsed member, by the way, Mr. Soloman thinks, contemplating
+her facetiously.
+
+"Kindly proceed--proceed," she says, twitching at her cap strings, as if
+impatient to get the sequel.
+
+"Well, as to that, being a member of the St. Cecilia myself, you see,
+and always--(I go in for a man keeping up in the world)--maintaining a
+high position among its most distinguished members, who, I assure you,
+respect me far above my real merits, (Mrs. Swiggs says we won't say
+anything about that now!) and honor me with all its secrets, I may, even
+in your presence, be permitted to say, that I never heard a member who
+didn't speak in high praise of you and the family of which you are so
+excellent a representative."
+
+"Thank you--thank you. O thank you, Mr. Soloman!" she rejoins.
+
+"Why, Madam, I feel all my veneration getting into my head at once when
+I refer to the name of Sir Sunderland Swiggs."
+
+"But pray what came of the young Baronet?"
+
+"Oh!--as to him, why, you see, he was what we call--it isn't a polite
+word, I confess--a humbug."
+
+"A Baronet a humbug!" she exclaims, fretting her hands and commencing to
+rock herself in the chair.
+
+"Well, as to that, as I was going on to say, after he had beat the bush
+all around among the young birds, leaving several of them wounded on the
+ground--you understand this sort of thing--he took to the older ones,
+and set them polishing up their feathers. And having set several very
+respectable families by the ears, and created a terrible flutter among a
+number of married dames--he was an adept in this sort of diplomacy, you
+see--it was discovered that one very distinguished Mrs. Constance,
+leader of fashion to the St. Cecilia, (and on that account on no very
+good terms with the vulgar world, that was forever getting up scandal to
+hurl at the society that would not permit it to soil, with its common
+muslin, the fragrant atmosphere of its satin and tulle), had been
+carrying on a villanous intrigue--yes, Madam! villanous intrigue! I said
+discovered: the fact was, this gallant Baronet, with one servant and no
+establishment, was feted and fooled for a month, until he came to the
+very natural and sensible conclusion, that we were all snobbs--yes,
+snobbs of the very worst kind. But there was no one who fawned over and
+flattered the vanity of this vain man more than the husband of Mrs.
+Constance. This poor man idolized his wife, whom he regarded as the very
+diamond light of purity, nor ever mistrusted that the Baronet's
+attentions were bestowed with any other than the best of motives.
+Indeed, he held it extremely condescending on the part of the Baronet to
+thus honor the family with his presence.
+
+"And the Baronet, you see, with that folly so characteristic of
+Baronets, was so flushed with his success in this little intrigue with
+Madame Constance--the affair was too good for him to keep!--that he went
+all over town showing her letters. Such nice letters as they were--brim
+full of repentance, love, and appointments. The Baronet read them to Mr.
+Barrows, laughing mischievously, and saying what a fool the woman must
+be. Mr. Barrows couldn't keep it from Mrs. Barrows, Mrs. Barrows let the
+cat out of the bag to Mrs. Simpson, and Mrs. Simpson would let Mr.
+Simpson have no peace till he got on the soft side of the Baronet, and,
+what was not a difficult matter, got two of the letters for her to have
+a peep into. Mrs. Simpson having feasted her eyes on the two Mr. Simpson
+got of the Baronet, and being exceedingly fond of such wares as they
+contained, must needs--albeit, in strict confidence--whisper it to Mrs.
+Fountain, who was a very fashionable lady, but unfortunately had a head
+very like a fountain, with the exception that it ejected out double the
+amount it took in. Mrs. Fountain--as anybody might have known--let it
+get all over town. And then the vulgar herd took it up, as if it were
+assafoetida, only needing a little stirring up, and hurled it back at
+the St. Cecilia, the character of which it would damage without a pang
+of remorse.
+
+"Then the thing got to Constance's ears; and getting into a terrible
+passion, poor Constance swore nothing would satisfy him but the
+Baronet's life. But the Baronet--"
+
+"A sorry Baronet was he--not a bit like my dear ancestor, Sir
+Sunderland," Mrs. Swiggs interposes.
+
+"Not a bit, Madam," bows our hero. "Like a sensible gentleman, as I was
+about to say, finding it getting too hot for him, packed up his alls,
+and in the company of his unpaid servant, left for parts westward of
+this. I had a suspicion the fellow was not what he should be; and I made
+it known to my select friends of the St. Cecilia, who generally
+pooh-poohed me. A nobleman, they said, should receive every attention.
+And to show that he wasn't what he should be, when he got to Augusta his
+servant sued him for his wages; and having nothing but his chivalry,
+which the servant very sensibly declined to accept for payment, he came
+out like a man, and declared himself nothing but a poor player.
+
+"But this neither satisfied Constance nor stayed the drifting current of
+slander--"
+
+"Oh! I am so glad it was no worse," Mrs. Swiggs interrupts again.
+
+"True!" Mr. Soloman responds, laughing heartily, as he taps her on the
+arm. "It might have been worse, though. Well, I am, as you know, always
+ready to do a bit of a good turn for a friend in need, and pitying poor
+Constance as I did, I suggested a committee of four most respectable
+gentlemen, and myself, to investigate the matter. The thing struck
+Constance favorably, you see. So we got ourselves together, agreed to
+consider ourselves a Congress, talked over the affairs of the nation,
+carried a vote to dissolve the Union, drank sundry bottles of Champagne,
+(I longed for a taste of your old Madeira, Mrs. Swiggs,) and brought in
+a verdict that pleased Mrs. Constance wonderfully--and so it ought. We
+were, after the most careful examination, satisfied that the reports
+prejudicial to the character and standing of Mrs. Constance had no
+foundation in truth, being the base fabrications of evil-minded persons,
+who sought, while injuring an innocent lady, to damage the reputation of
+the St. Cecilia Society. Mr. Constance was highly pleased with the
+finding; and finally it proved the sovereign balm that healed all their
+wounds. Of course, the Knight, having departed, was spared his blood."
+
+Here Mr. Soloman makes a pause. Mrs. Swiggs, with a sigh, says, "Is that
+all?"
+
+"Quite enough for once, my good Madam," Mr. Soloman bows in return.
+
+"Oh! I am so glad the St. Cecilia is yet spared to us. You said, you
+know, it was all up with it--"
+
+"Up? up?--so it is! That is, it won't break it up, you know. Why--oh, I
+see where the mistake is--it isn't all over, you know, seeing how the
+society can live through a score of nine-months scandals. But the
+thing's in every vulgar fellow's lips--that is the worst of it."
+
+Mrs. Swiggs relishes this bit of gossip as if it were a dainty morsel;
+and calling Rebecca, she commands her to forthwith proceed into the
+cellar and bring a bottle of the old Madeira--she has only five
+left--for Mr. Soloman. And to Mr. Soloman's great delight, the old
+negress hastily obeys the summons; brings forth a mass of cobweb and
+dust, from which a venerable black bottle is disinterred, uncorked, and
+presented to the guest, who drinks the health of Mrs. Swiggs in sundry
+well-filled glasses, which he declares choice, adding, that it always
+reminds him of the age and dignity of the family. Like the State,
+dignity is Mrs. Swiggs' weakness--her besetting sin. Mr. Soloman, having
+found the key to this vain woman's generosity, turns it when it suits
+his own convenience.
+
+"By-the-bye," he suddenly exclaims, "you've got Tom locked up again."
+
+"As safe as he ever was, I warrant ye!" Mrs. Swiggs replies, resuming
+her Milton and rocking-chair.
+
+"Upon my faith I agree with you. Never let him get out, for he is sure
+to disgrace the family when he does--"
+
+"I've said he shall rot there, and he shall rot! He never shall get out
+to disgrace the family--no, not if I live to be as gray as Methuselah, I
+warrant you!" And Mr. Soloman, having made his compliments to the sixth
+glass, draws from his breast pocket a legal-looking paper, which he
+passes to Mrs. Swiggs, as she ejaculates, "Oh! I am glad you thought of
+that."
+
+Mr. Soloman, watching intently the changes of her face, says, "You will
+observe, Madam, I have mentioned the cripples. There are five of them.
+We are good friends, you see; and it is always better to be precise in
+those things. It preserves friendship. This is merely a bit of a good
+turn I do for you." Mr. Soloman bows, makes an approving motion with his
+hands, and lays at her disposal on the table, a small roll of bills.
+"You will find two hundred dollars there," he adds, modulating his
+voice. "You will find it all right; I got it for you of Keepum. We do a
+little in that way; he is very exact, you see--"
+
+"Honor is the best security between people of our standing," she
+rejoins, taking up a pen and signing the instrument, which her guest
+deposits snugly in his pocket, and takes his departure for the house of
+Madame Flamingo.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+CONTAINING SUNDRY MATTERS APPERTAINING TO THIS HISTORY.
+
+
+If, generous reader, you had lived in Charleston, we would take it for
+granted that you need no further enlightening on any of our very select
+societies, especially the St. Cecilia; but you may not have enjoyed a
+residence so distinguished, rendering unnecessary a few explanatory
+remarks. You must know that we not only esteem ourselves the
+quintessence of refinement, as we have an undisputed right to do, but
+regard the world outside as exceedingly stupid in not knowing as much of
+us as we profess to know of ourselves. Abroad, we wonder we are not at
+once recognized as Carolinians; at home, we let the vulgar world know
+who we are. Indeed, we regard the outside world--of these States we
+mean--very much in that light which the Greeks of old were wont to view
+the Romans in. Did we but stop here, the weakness might be pardonable.
+But we lay claim to Grecian refinement of manners, while pluming all our
+mob-politicians Roman orators. There is a profanity about this we
+confess not to like; not that danger can befall it, but because it hath
+about it that which reminds us of the oyster found in the shell of gold.
+Condescending, then, to believe there exists outside of our State a few
+persons silly enough to read books, we will take it for granted, reader,
+that you are one of them, straightway proceeding with you to the St.
+Cecilia.
+
+You have been a fashionable traveller in Europe? You say--yes! rummaged
+all the feudal castles of England, sought out the resting places of her
+kings, heard some one say "that is poet's corner," as we passed into
+Westminster Abbey, thought they couldn't be much to have such a
+corner,--"went to look" where Byron was buried, moistened the marble
+with a tear ere we were conscious of it, and saw open to us the gulf of
+death as we contemplated how greedy graveyard worms were banqueting on
+his greatness. A world of strange fancies came over us as we mused on
+England's poets. And we dined with several Dukes and a great many more
+Earls, declining no end of invitations of commoners. Very well! we
+reply, adding a sigh. And on your return to your home, that you may not
+be behind the fashion, you compare disparagingly everything that meets
+your eye. Nothing comes up to what you saw in Europe. A servant doesn't
+know how to be a servant here; and were we to see the opera at Covent
+Garden, we would be sure to stare our eyes out. It is become habitual to
+introduce your conversation with, "when I was in Europe." And you know
+you never write a letter that you don't in some way bring in the
+distinguished persons you met abroad. There is something (no matter what
+it is) that forcibly reminds you of what occurred at the table of my
+Lady Clarendon, with whom you twice had the pleasure and rare honor of
+dining. And by implication, you always give us a sort of lavender-water
+description of the very excellent persons you met there, and what they
+were kind enough to say of America, and how they complimented you, and
+made you the centre and all-absorbing object of attraction--in a word, a
+truly wonderful person. And you will not fail, now that it is become
+fashionable, to extol with fulsome breath the greatness of every
+European despot it hath been your good fortune to get a bow from. And
+you are just vain enough to forever keep this before your up-country
+cousins. You say, too, that you have looked in at Almacks. Almacks!
+alas! departed greatness. With the rise of the Casino hath it lain its
+aristocratic head in the dust.
+
+Well!--the St. Cecilia you must know (its counterparts are to be found
+in all our great cities) is a miniature Almacks--a sort of leach-cloth,
+through which certain very respectable individuals must pass ere they
+can become the elite of our fashionable world. To become a member of the
+St. Cecilia--to enjoy its recherche assemblies--to luxuriate in the
+delicate perfumes of its votaries, is the besetting sin of a great many
+otherwise very sensible people. And to avenge their disappointment at
+not being admitted to its precious precincts, they are sure to be found
+in the front rank of scandal-mongers when anything in their line is up
+with a member. And it is seldom something is not up, for the society
+would seem to live and get lusty in an atmosphere of perpetual scandal.
+Any amount of duels have come of it; it hath made rich no end of
+milliners; it hath made bankrupt husbands by the dozen; it hath been the
+theatre of several distinguished romances; it hath witnessed the first
+throbbings of sundry hearts, since made happy in wedlock; it hath been
+the _shibolath_ of sins that shall be nameless here. The reigning belles
+are all members (provided they belong to our first families) of the St.
+Cecilia, as is also the prettiest and most popular unmarried parson. And
+the parson being excellent material for scandal, Mother Rumor is sure to
+have a dash at him. Nor does this very busy old lady seem over-delicate
+about which of the belles she associates with the parson, so long as the
+scandal be fashionable enough to afford her a good traffic.
+
+There is continually coming along some unknown but very distinguished
+foreigner, whom the society adopts as its own, flutters over, and
+smothers with attentions, and drops only when it is discovered he is an
+escaped convict. This, in deference to the reputation of the St.
+Cecilia, we acknowledge has only happened twice. It has been said with
+much truth that the St. Cecilia's worst sin, like the sins of its sister
+societies of New York, is a passion for smothering with the satin and
+Honiton of its assemblies a certain supercilious species of snobby
+Englishmen, who come over here, as they have it (gun and fishing-rod in
+hand), merely to get right into the woods where they can have plenty of
+bear-hunting, confidently believing New York a forest inhabited by such
+animals. As for our squaws, as Mr. Tom Toddleworth would say, (we shall
+speak more at length of Tom!) why! they have no very bad opinion of
+them, seeing that they belong to a race of semi-barbarians, whose
+sayings they delight to note down. Having no society at home, this
+species of gentry the more readily find themselves in high favor with
+ours. They are always Oxonians, as the sons of green grocers and
+fishmongers are sure to be when they come over here (so Mr. Toddleworth
+has it, and he is good authority), and we being an exceedingly
+impressible people, they kindly condescend to instruct us in all the
+high arts, now and then correcting our very bad English. They are clever
+fellows generally, being sure to get on the kind side of credulous
+mothers with very impressible-headed daughters.
+
+There was, however, always a distinguished member of the St. Cecilia
+society who let out all that took place at its assemblies. The vulgar
+always knew what General danced with the lovely Miss A., and how they
+looked, and what they said to each other; how many jewels Miss A. wore,
+and the material her dress was made of; they knew who polkaed with the
+accomplished Miss B., and how like a duchess she bore herself; they had
+the exact name of the colonel who dashed along so like a knight with the
+graceful and much-admired Mrs. D., whose husband was abroad serving his
+country; what gallant captain of dragoons (captains of infantry were
+looked upon as not what they might be) promenaded so imperiously with
+the vivacious Miss E.; and what distinguished foreigner sat all night in
+the corner holding a suspicious and very improper conversation with Miss
+F., whose skirts never were free of scandal, and who had twice got the
+pretty parson into difficulty with his church. Hence there was a
+perpetual outgoing of scandal on the one side, and pelting of dirt on
+the other.
+
+When Mr. Soloman sought the presence of Mrs. Swiggs and told her it was
+all up with the St. Cecilia, and when that august member of the society
+was so happily disappointed by his concluding with leaving it an
+undamaged reputation, the whole story was not let out. In truth the
+society was at that moment in a state of indignation, and its reputation
+as well-nigh the last stage of disgrace as it were possible to bring it
+without being entirely absorbed. The Baronet, who enjoyed a good joke,
+and was not over-scrupulous in measuring the latitude of our credulity,
+had, it seems, in addition to the little affair with Mrs. Constance,
+been imprudent enough to introduce at one of the assemblies of the St.
+Cecilia, a lady of exceedingly fair but frail import: this loveliest of
+creatures--this angel of fallen fame--this jewel, so much sought after
+in her own casket--this child of gentleness and beauty, before whom a
+dozen gallant knights were paying homage, and claiming her hand for the
+next waltz, turned out to be none other than the Anna Bonard we have
+described at the house of Madame Flamingo. The discovery sent the whole
+assembly into a fainting fit, and caused such a fluttering in the camp
+of fashion. Reader! you may rest assured back-doors and smelling-bottles
+were in great demand.
+
+The Baronet had introduced her as his cousin; just arrived, he said, in
+the care of her father--the cousin whose beauty he had so often referred
+to. So complete was her toilet and disguise, that none but the most
+intimate associate could have detected the fraud. Do you ask us who was
+the betrayer, reader? We answer,--
+
+One whose highest ambition did seem that of getting her from her
+paramour, George Mullholland. It was Judge Sleepyhorn. Reader! you will
+remember him--the venerable, snowy-haired man, sitting on the lounge at
+the house of Madame Flamingo, and on whom George Mullholland swore to
+have revenge. The judge of a criminal court, the admonisher of the
+erring, the sentencer of felons, the _habitue_ of the house of Madame
+Flamingo--no libertine in disguise could be more scrupulous of his
+standing in society, or so sensitive of the opinion held of him by the
+virtuous fair, than was this daylight guardian of public morals.
+
+The Baronet got himself nicely out of the affair, and Mr. Soloman
+Snivel, commonly called Mr. Soloman, the accommodation man, is at the
+house of Madame Flamingo, endeavoring to effect a reconciliation between
+the Judge and George Mullholland.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+IN WHICH IS SEEN A COMMINGLING OF CITIZENS.
+
+
+Night has thrown her mantle over the city. There is a great gathering of
+denizens at the house of Madame Flamingo. She has a _bal-masque_
+to-night. Her door is beset with richly-caparisoned equipages. The town
+is on tip-toe to be there; we reluctantly follow it. An hundred
+gaudily-decorated drinking saloon are filled with gaudier-dressed men.
+In loudest accent rings the question--"Do you go to Madame Flamingo's
+to-night?" Gentlemen of the genteel world, in shining broadcloth, touch
+glasses and answer--"yes!" It is a wonderful city--this of ours. Vice
+knows no restraint, poverty hath no friends here. We bow before the
+shrine of midnight revelry; we bring licentiousness to our homes, but we
+turn a deaf ear to the cries of poverty, and we gloat over the sale of
+men.
+
+The sickly gas-light throws a sicklier glare over the narrow, unpaved
+streets. The city is on a frolic, a thing not uncommon with it. Lithe
+and portly-figured men, bearing dominos in their hands, saunter along
+the sidewalk, now dangling ponderous watch-chains, then flaunting
+highly-perfumed cambrics--all puffing the fumes of choice cigars. If
+accosted by a grave wayfarer--they are going to the opera! They are
+dressed in the style of opera-goers. And the road to the opera seems the
+same as that leading to the house of the old hostess. A gaily-equipped
+carriage approaches. We hear the loud, coarse laughing of those it so
+buoyantly bears, then there comes full to view the glare of yellow silks
+and red satins, and doubtful jewels--worn by denizens from whose faded
+brows the laurel wreath hath fallen. How shrunken with the sorrow of
+their wretched lives, and yet how sportive they seem! The pale gas-light
+throws a spectre-like hue over their paler features; the artificial
+crimson with which they would adorn the withered cheek refuses to lend a
+charm to features wan and ghastly. The very air is sickly with the odor
+of their cosmetics. And with flaunting cambrics they bend over carriage
+sides, salute each and every pedestrian, and receive in return answers
+unsuited to refined ears. They pass into the dim vista, but we see with
+the aid of that flickering gas, the shadow of that polluting hand which
+hastens life into death.
+
+Old Mr. McArthur, who sits smoking his long pipe in the door of his
+crazy-looking curiosity shop, (he has just parted company with the young
+theologian, having assured him he would find a place to stow Tom Swiggs
+in,) wonders where the fashionable world of Charleston can be going? It
+is going to the house of the Flamingo. The St. Cecilia were to have had
+a ball to-night; scandal and the greater attractions here have closed
+its doors.
+
+A long line of carriages files past the door of the old hostess. An
+incessant tripping of feet, delicately encased in bright-colored
+slippers; an ominous fluttering of gaudy silks and satins; an inciting
+glare of borrowed jewelry, mingling with second-hand lace; an
+heterogeneous gleaming of bare, brawny arms, and distended busts, all
+lend a sort of barbaric splendor to that mysterious group floating, as
+it were, into a hall in one blaze of light. A soft carpet, overlain
+with brown linen, is spread from the curbstone into the hall. Two
+well-developed policemen guard the entrance, take tickets of those who
+pass in, and then exchange smiles of recognition with venerable looking
+gentlemen in masks. The hostess, a clever "business man" in her way, has
+made the admission fee one dollar. Having paid the authorities ten
+dollars, and honored every Alderman with a complimentary ticket, who has
+a better right? No one has a nicer regard for the Board of Aldermen than
+Madame Flamingo; no one can reciprocate this regard more condescendingly
+than the honorable Board of Aldermen do. Having got herself arrayed in a
+dress of sky-blue satin, that ever and anon streams, cloud-like, behind
+her, and a lace cap of approved fashion, with pink strings nicely
+bordered in gimp, and a rich Honiton cape, jauntily thrown over her
+shoulders, and secured under the chin with a great cluster of blazing
+diamonds, and rows of unpolished pearls at her wrists, which are
+immersed in crimped ruffles, she doddles up and down the hall in a state
+of general excitement. A corpulent colored man, dressed in the garb of a
+beadle,--a large staff in his right hand, a cocked hat on his head, and
+broad white stripes down his flowing coat, stands midway between the
+parlor doors. He is fussy enough, and stupid enough, for a Paddington
+beadle. Now Madame Flamingo looks scornfully at him, scolds him, pushes
+him aside; he is only a slave she purchased for the purpose; she
+commands that he gracefully touch his hat (she snatches it from his
+head, and having elevated it over her own, performs the delicate motion
+she would have him imitate) to every visitor. The least neglect of duty
+will incur (she tells him in language he cannot mistake) the penalty of
+thirty-nine well laid on in the morning. In another minute her fat,
+chubby-face glows with smiles, her whole soul seems lighted up with
+childlike enthusiasm; she has a warm welcome for each new comer, retorts
+saliently upon her old friends, and says--"you know how welcome you all
+are!" Then she curtsies with such becoming grace. "The house, you know,
+gentlemen, is a commonwealth to-night." Ah! she recognizes the tall,
+comely figure of Mr. Soloman, the accommodation man. He did not spring
+from among the bevy of coat-takers, and hood-retainers, at the extreme
+end of the great hall, nor from among the heap of promiscuous garments
+piled in one corner; and yet he is here, looking as if some magic
+process had brought him from a mysterious labyrinth. "Couldn't get along
+without me, you see. It's an ambition with me to befriend everybody. If
+I can do a bit of a good turn for a friend, so much the better!" And he
+grasps the old hostess by the hand with a self-satisfaction he rather
+improves by tapping her encouragingly on the shoulder. "You'll make a
+right good thing of this!--a clear thousand, eh?"
+
+"The fates have so ordained it," smiles naively the old woman.
+
+"Of course the fates could not ordain otherwise--"
+
+"As to that, Mr. Soloman, I sometimes think the gods are with me, and
+then again I think they are against me. The witches--they have done my
+fortune a dozen times or more--always predict evil (I consult them
+whenever a sad fit comes over me), but witches are not to be depended
+upon! I am sure I think what a fool I am for consulting them at all."
+She espies, for her trade of sin hath made keen her eye, the venerable
+figure of Judge Sleepyhorn advancing up the hall, masked. "Couldn't get
+along without you," she lisps, tripping towards him, and greeting him
+with the familiarity of an intimate friend. "I'm rather aristocratic,
+you'll say!--and I confess I am, though a democrat in principle!" And
+Madame Flamingo confirms what she says with two very dignified nods. As
+the Judge passes silently in she pats him encouragingly on the back,
+saying,--"There ain't no one in this house what'll hurt a hair on your
+head." The Judge heeds not what she says.
+
+"My honor for it, Madame, but I think your guests highly favored,
+altogether! Fine weather, and the prospect of a _bal-masque_ of Pompeian
+splendor. The old Judge, eh?"
+
+"The gods smile--the gods smile, Mr. Soloman!" interrupts the hostess,
+bowing and swaying her head in rapid succession.
+
+"The gods have their eye on him to-night--he's a marked man! A jolly old
+cove of a Judge, he is! Cares no more about rules and precedents, on the
+bench, than he does for the rights and precedents some persons profess
+to have in this house. A high old blade to administer justice, eh?"
+
+"But, you see, Mr. Soloman," the hostess interrupts, a gracious bow
+keeping time with the motion of her hand, "he is such an aristocratic
+prop in the character of my house."
+
+"I rather like that, I confess, Madame. You have grown rich off the
+aristocracy. Now, don't get into a state of excitement!" says Mr.
+Soloman, fingering his long Saxon beard, and eyeing her mischievously.
+She sees a bevy of richly-dressed persons advancing up the hall in high
+glee. Indeed her house is rapidly filling to the fourth story. And yet
+they come! she says. "The gods are in for a time. I love to make the
+gods happy."
+
+Mr. Soloman has lain his hand upon her arm retentively.
+
+"It is not that the aristocracy and such good persons as the Judge spend
+so much here. But they give _eclat_ to the house, and _eclat_ is money.
+That's it, sir! Gold is the deity of _our_ pantheon! Bless you (the
+hostess evinces the enthusiasm of a politician), what better evidence of
+the reputation of my house than is before you, do you want? I've shut up
+the great Italian opera, with its three squalling prima donnas, which in
+turn has shut up the poor, silly _Empresario_ as they call him; and the
+St. Cecilia I have just used up. I'm a team in my way, you see;--run all
+these fashionable oppositions right into bankruptcy." Never were words
+spoken with more truth. Want of patronage found all places of rational
+amusement closed. Societies for intellectual improvement, one after
+another, died of poverty. Fashionable lectures had attendance only when
+fashionable lecturers came from the North; and the Northman was sure to
+regard our taste through the standard of what he saw before him.
+
+The house of the hostess triumphs, and is corpulent of wealth and
+splendor. To-morrow she will feed with the rich crumbs that fall from
+her table the starving poor. And although she holds poor virtue in utter
+contempt, feeding the poor she regards a large score on the passport to
+a better world. A great marble stairway winds its way upward at the
+farther end of the hall, and near it are two small balconies, one on
+each side, presenting barricades of millinery surmounted with the
+picturesque faces of some two dozen denizens, who keep up an incessant
+gabbling, interspersed here and there with jeers directed at Mr.
+Soloman. "Who is he seeking to accommodate to-night?" they inquire,
+laughing merrily.
+
+The house is full, the hostess has not space for one friend more; she
+commands the policemen to close doors. An Alderman is the only exception
+to her _fiat_. "You see," she says, addressing herself to a courtly
+individual who has just saluted her with urbane deportment, "I must
+preserve the _otium cum dignitate_ of my (did I get it right?) standing
+in society. I don't always get these Latin sayings right. Our
+Congressmen don't. And, you see, like them, I ain't a Latin scholar, and
+may be excused for any little slips. Politics and larnin' don't get
+along well together. Speaking of politics, I confess I rather belong to
+the Commander and Quabblebum school--I do!"
+
+At this moment (a tuning of instruments is heard in the dancing-hall)
+the tall figure of the accommodation man is seen, in company of the
+venerable Judge, passing hurriedly into a room on the right of the
+winding stairs before described. "Judge!" he exclaims, closing the door
+quickly after him, "you will be discovered and exposed. I am not
+surprised at your passion for her, nor the means by which you seek to
+destroy the relations existing between her and George Mullholland. It is
+an evidence of taste in you. But she is proud to a fault, and, this I
+say in friendship, you so wounded her feelings, when you betrayed her to
+the St. Cecilia, that she has sworn to have revenge on you. George
+Mullholland, too, has sworn to have your life.
+
+"I tell you what it is, Judge, (the accommodation man assumes the air of
+a bank director,) I have just conceived--you will admit I have an
+inventive mind!--a plot that will carry you clean through the whole
+affair. Your ambition is divided between a passion for this charming
+creature and the good opinion of better society. The resolution to
+retain the good opinion of society is doing noble battle in your heart;
+but it is the weaker vessel, and it always will be so with a man of your
+mould, inasmuch as such resolutions are backed up by the less fierce
+elements of our nature. Put this down as an established principle. Well,
+then, I will take upon myself the betrayal. I will plead you ignorant of
+the charge, procure her forgiveness, and reconcile the matter with this
+Mullholland. It's worth an hundred or more, eh?"
+
+The venerable man smiles, shakes his head as if heedless of the
+admonition, and again covers his face with his domino.
+
+The accommodation man, calling him by his judicial title, says he will
+yet repent the refusal!
+
+It is ten o'clock. The gentleman slightly colored, who represents a
+fussy beadle, makes a flourish with his great staff. The doors of the
+dancing hall are thrown open. Like the rushing of the gulf stream there
+floods in a motley procession of painted females and masked men--the
+former in dresses as varied in hue as the fires of remorse burning out
+their unuttered thoughts. Two and two they jeer and crowd their way
+along into the spacious hall, the walls of which are frescoed in
+extravagant mythological designs, the roof painted in fret work, and the
+cornices interspersed with seraphs in stucco and gilt. The lights of two
+massive chandeliers throw a bewitching refulgence over a scene at once
+picturesque and mysterious; and from four tall mirrors secured between
+the windows, is reflected the forms and movements of the masquers.
+
+Reader! you have nothing in this democratic country with which to
+successfully compare it. And to seek a comparison in the old world,
+where vice, as in this city of chivalry, hath a license, serves not our
+office.
+
+Madame Flamingo, flanked right and left by twelve colored gentlemen,
+who, their collars decorated with white and pink rosettes, officiate as
+masters of ceremony, and form a crescent in front of the thronging
+procession, steps gradually backward, curtsying and bowing, and
+spreading her hands to her guests, after the manner of my Lord
+Chamberlain.
+
+Eight colored musicians, (everything is colored here,) perched on a
+raised platform covered with maroon-colored plush, at the signal of a
+lusty-tongued call-master, strike up a march, to which the motley throng
+attempt to keep time. It is martial enough; and discordant enough for
+anything but keeping time to.
+
+The plush-covered benches filing along the sides and ends of the hall
+are eagerly sought after and occupied by a strange mixture of lookers on
+in Vienna. Here the hoary-headed father sits beside a newly-initiated
+youth who is receiving his first lesson of dissipation. There the grave
+and chivalric planter sports with the nice young man, who is cultivating
+a beard and his way into the by-ways. A little further on the suspicious
+looking gambler sits freely conversing with the man whom a degrading
+public opinion has raised to the dignity of the judicial bench. Yonder
+is seen the man who has eaten his way into fashionable society, (and by
+fashionable society very much caressed in return,) the bosom companion
+of the man whose crimes have made him an outcast.
+
+Generous reader! contemplate this grotesque assembly; study the object
+Madame Flamingo has in gathering it to her fold. Does it not present the
+accessories to wrong doing? Does it not show that the wrong-doer and the
+criminally inclined, too often receive encouragement by the example of
+those whoso duty it is to protect society? The spread of crime, alas!
+for the profession, is too often regarded by the lawyer as rather a
+desirable means of increasing his trade.
+
+Quadrille follows quadrille, the waltz succeeds the schottish, the scene
+presents one bewildering maze of flaunting gossamers and girating
+bodies, now floating sylph-like into the foreground, then whirling
+seductively into the shadowy vista, where the joyous laugh dies out in
+the din of voices. The excitement has seized upon the head and heart of
+the young,--the child who stood trembling between the first and second
+downward step finds her reeling brain a captive in this snare set to
+seal her ruin.
+
+Now the music ceases, the lusty-tongued call-master stands surveying
+what he is pleased to call the oriental splendor of this grotesque
+assembly. He doesn't know who wouldn't patronize such a house! It
+suddenly forms in platoon, and marshalled by slightly-colored masters of
+ceremony, promenades in an oblong figure.
+
+Here, leaning modestly on the arm of a tall figure in military uniform,
+and advancing slowly up the hall, is a girl of some sixteen summers. Her
+finely-rounded form is in harmony with the ravishing vivacity of her
+face, which is beautifully oval. Seen by the glaring gas-light her
+complexion is singularly clear and pale. But that freshness which had
+gained her many an admirer, and which gave such a charm to the roundness
+of early youth, we look for in vain. And yet there is a softness and
+delicacy about her well-cut and womanly features--a childlike sweetness
+in her smile--a glow of thoughtfulness in those great, flashing black
+eyes--an expression of melancholy in which at short intervals we read
+her thoughts--an incessant playing of those long dark eyelashes, that
+clothes her charms with an irresistible, a soul-inspiring seductiveness.
+Her dress, of moire antique, is chasteness itself; her bust exquisite
+symmetry; it heaves as softly as if touched by some gentle zephyr. From
+an Haidean brow falls and floats undulating over her marble-like
+shoulders, the massive folds of her glossy black hair. Nature had indeed
+been lavish of her gifts on this fair creature, to whose charms no
+painter could give a touch more fascinating. This girl, whose elastic
+step and erect carriage contrasts strangely with the languid forms about
+her, is Anna Bonard, the neglected, the betrayed. There passes and
+repasses her, now contemplating her with a curious stare, then muttering
+inaudibly, a man of portly figure, in mask and cowl. He touches with a
+delicate hand his watch-guard, we see two sharp, lecherous eyes peering
+through the domino; he folds his arms and pauses a few seconds, as if to
+survey the metal of her companion, then crosses and recrosses her path.
+Presently his singular demeanor attracts her attention, a curl of
+sarcasm is seen on her lip, her brow darkens, her dark orbs flash as of
+fire,--all the heart-burnings of a soul stung with shame are seen to
+quicken and make ghastly those features that but a moment before shone
+lambent as summer lightning. He pauses as with a look of withering scorn
+she scans him from head to foot, raises covertly her left hand, tossing
+carelessly her glossy hair on her shoulder, and with lightning quickness
+snatches with her right the domino from his face. "Hypocrite!" she
+exclaims, dashing it to the ground, and with her foot placed defiantly
+upon the domino, assumes a tragic attitude, her right arm extended, and
+the forefinger of her hand pointing in his face, "Ah!" she continues, in
+biting accents, "it is against the perfidy of such as you. I have
+struggled. Your false face, like your heart, needed a disguise. But I
+have dragged it away, that you may be judged as you are. This is my
+satisfaction for your betrayal. Oh that I could have deeper revenge!"
+She has unmasked Judge Sleepyhorn, who stands before the anxious gaze of
+an hundred night revellers, pressing eagerly to the scene of confusion.
+Madame Flamingo's house, as you may judge, is much out in its dignity,
+and in a general uproar. There was something touching--something that
+the graver head might ponder over, in the words of this unfortunate
+girl--"I have struggled!" A heedless and gold-getting world seldom
+enters upon the mystery of its meaning. But it hath a meaning deep and
+powerful in its appeal to society--one that might serve the good of a
+commonwealth did society stoop and take it by the hand.
+
+So sudden was the motion with which this girl snatched the mask from the
+face of the Judge, (he stood as if appalled,) that, ere he had gained
+his self-possession, she drew from her girdle a pearl-hilted stiletto,
+and in attempting to ward off the dreadful lunge, he struck it from her
+hand, and into her own bosom. The weapon fell gory to the floor--the
+blood trickled down her bodice--a cry of "murder" resounded through the
+hall! The administrator of justice rushed out of the door as the unhappy
+girl swooned in the arms of her partner. A scene so confused and wild
+that it bewilders the brain, now ensued. Madame Flamingo calls loudly
+for Mr. Soloman; and as the reputation of her house is uppermost in her
+thoughts, she atones for its imperiled condition by fainting in the arms
+of a grave old gentleman, who was beating a hasty retreat, and whose
+respectability she may compromise through this uncalled-for act.
+
+A young man of slender form, and pale, sandy features, makes his way
+through the crowd, clasps Anna affectionately in his arms, imprints a
+kiss on her pallid brow, and bears her out of the hall.
+
+By the aid of hartshorn and a few dashes of cold water, the old hostess
+is pleased to come to, as we say, and set about putting her house in
+order. Mr. Soloman, to the great joy of those who did not deem it
+prudent to make their escape, steps in to negotiate for the peace of the
+house and the restoration of order. "It is all the result of a mistake,"
+he says laughingly, and good-naturedly, patting every one he meets on
+the shoulder. "A little bit of jealousy on the part of the girl. It all
+had its origin in an error that can be easily rectified. In a word,
+there's much ado about nothing in the whole of it. Little affairs of
+this kind are incident to fashionable society all over the world! The
+lady being only scratched, is more frightened than hurt. Nobody is
+killed; and if there were, why killings are become so fashionable, that
+if the killed be not a gentleman, nobody thinks anything of it," he
+continues. And Mr. Soloman being an excellent diplomatist, does, with
+the aid of the hostess, her twelve masters of ceremony, her beadle, and
+two policemen, forthwith bring the house to a more orderly condition.
+But night has rolled into the page of the past, the gray dawn of morning
+is peeping in at the half-closed windows, the lights burning in the
+chandeliers shed a pale glow over the wearied features of those who
+drag, as it were, their languid bodies to the stifled music of unwilling
+slaves. And while daylight seems modestly contending with the vulgar
+glare within, there appears among the pale revellers a paler ghost, who,
+having stalked thrice up and down the hall, preserving the frigidity and
+ghostliness of the tomb, answering not the questions that are put to
+him, and otherwise deporting himself as becometh a ghost of good metal,
+is being taken for a demon of wicked import. Now he pauses at the end of
+the hall, faces with spectre-like stare the alarmed group at the
+opposite end, rests his left elbow on his scythe-staff, and having set
+his glass on the floor, points to its running sands warningly with his
+right forefinger. Not a muscle does he move. "Truly a ghost!" exclaims
+one. "A ghost would have vanished before this," whispers another. "Speak
+to him," a third responds, as the musicians are seen to pale and leave
+their benches. Madame Flamingo, pale and weary, is first to rush for the
+door, shrieking as his ghostship turns his grim face upon her. Shriek
+follows shriek, the lights are put out, the gray dawn plays upon and
+makes doubly frightful the spectre. A Pandemonium of shriekings and
+beseechings is succeeded by a stillness as of the tomb. Our ghost is
+victor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+WHAT TAKES PLACE BETWEEN GEORGE MULLHOLLAND AND MR. SNIVEL.
+
+
+The man who kissed and bore away the prostrate girl was George
+Mullholland.
+
+"Oh! George--George!" she whispers imploringly, as her eyes meet his;
+and turning upon the couch of her chamber, where he hath lain her,
+awakes to consciousness, and finds him watching over her with a lover's
+solicitude. "I was not cold because I loved you less--oh no! It was to
+propitiate my ambition--to be free of the bondage of this house--to
+purge myself of the past--to better my future!" And she lays her pale,
+nervous hand gently on his arm--then grasps his hand and presses it
+fervently to her lips.
+
+Though placed beyond the pale of society--though envied by one extreme
+and shunned by the other--she finds George her only true friend. He
+parts and smooths gently over her polished shoulders her dishevelled
+hair; he watches over her with the tenderness of a brother; he quenches
+and wipes away the blood oozing from her wounded breast; he kisses and
+kisses her flushed cheek, and bathes her Ion-like brow. He forgives all.
+His heart would speak if his tongue had words to represent it. He would
+the past were buried--the thought of having wronged him forgotten. She
+recognizes in his solicitude for her the sincerity of his heart. It
+touches like sweet music the tenderest chords of her own; and like
+gushing fountains her great black eyes fill with tears. She buries her
+face in her hands, crying, "Never, never, George, (I swear it before the
+God I have wronged, but whose forgiveness I still pray,) will I again
+forget my obligation to you! I care not how high in station he who seeks
+me maybe. Ambitious!--I was misled. His money lured me away, but he
+betrayed me in the face of his promises. Henceforth I have nothing for
+this deceptive world; I receive of it nothing but betrayal--"
+
+"The world wants nothing more of either of us," interrupts George.
+
+More wounded in her feelings than in her flesh, she sobs and wrings her
+hands like one in despair.
+
+"You have ambition. I am too poor to serve your ambition!"
+
+That word, too "poor," is more than her already distracted brain can
+bear up under. It brings back the terrible picture of their past
+history; it goads and agonizes her very soul. She throws her arms
+frantically about his neck; presses him to her bosom; kisses him with
+the fervor of a child. Having pledged his forgiveness with a kiss, and
+sealed it by calling in a witness too often profaned on such occasions,
+George calms her feelings as best he can; then he smooths with a gentle
+hand the folds of her uplifted dress, and with them curtains the satin
+slippers that so delicately encase her small feet. This done, he spreads
+over her the richly-lined India morning-gown presented to her a few days
+ago by the Judge, who, as she says, so wantonly betrayed her, and on
+whom she sought revenge. Like a Delian maid, surrounded with Oriental
+luxury, and reclining on satin and velvet, she flings her flowing hair
+over her shoulders, nestles her weary head in the embroidered cushion,
+and with the hand of her only true friend firmly grasped in her own,
+soothes away into a calm sleep--that sovereign but too transient balm
+for sorrowing hearts.
+
+Our scene changes. The ghost hath taken himself to the graveyard; the
+morning dawns soft and sunny on what we harmlessly style the sunny city
+of the sunny South. Madame Flamingo hath resolved to nail another
+horse-shoe over her door. She will propitiate (so she hath it) the god
+of ghosts.
+
+George Mullholland, having neither visible means of gaining a livelihood
+nor a settled home, may be seen in a solitary box at Baker's, (a
+coffee-house at the corner of Meeting and Market streets,) eating an
+humble breakfast. About him there is a forlornness that the quick eye
+never fails to discover in the manners of the homeless man. "Cleverly
+done," he says, laying down the _Mercury_ newspaper, in which it is set
+forth that "the St. Cecilia, in consequence of an affliction in the
+family of one of its principal members, postponed its assembly last
+night. The theatre, in consequence of a misunderstanding between the
+manager and his people, was also closed. The lecture on comparative
+anatomy, by Professor Bones, which was to have been delivered at
+Hibernian Hall, is, in consequence of the indisposition of the learned
+Professor, put off to Tuesday evening next, when he will have, as he
+deserves, an overflowing house. Tickets, as before, may be had at all
+the music and bookstores." The said facetious journal was silent on the
+superior attractions at the house of the old hostess; nor did it deem it
+prudent to let drop a word on the misunderstanding between the patrons
+of the drama and the said theatrical manager, inasmuch as it was one of
+those that are sure to give rise to a very serious misunderstanding
+between that functionary and his poor people.
+
+In another column the short but potent line met his eye: "An overflowing
+and exceedingly fashionable house greeted the Negro Minstrels last
+night. First-rate talent never goes begging in our city." George sips
+his coffee and smiles. Wonderfully clever these editors are, he thinks.
+They have nice apologies for public taste always on hand; set the
+country by the ears now and then; and amuse themselves with carrying on
+the most prudent description of wars.
+
+His own isolated condition, however, is uppermost in his mind. Poverty
+and wretchedness stare him in the face on one side; chivalry, on the
+other, has no bows for him while daylight lasts. Instinct whispers in
+his ear--where one exists the other is sure to be.
+
+To the end that this young man will perform a somewhat important part in
+the by-ways of this history, some further description of him may be
+necessary. George Mullholland stands some five feet nine, is
+wiry-limbed, and slender and erect of person. Of light complexion, his
+features, are sharp and irregular, his face narrow and freckled, his
+forehead small and retreating, his hair sandy and short-cropped. Add to
+these two small, dull, gray eyes, and you have features not easily
+described. Nevertheless, there are moments when his countenance wears an
+expression of mildness--one in which the quick eye may read a character
+more inoffensive than intrusive. A swallow-tail blue coat, of ample
+skirts, and brass buttons; a bright-colored waistcoat, opening an
+avalanche of shirt-bosom, blossoming with cheap jewelry; a broad,
+rolling shirt-collar, tied carelessly with a blue ribbon; a
+steeple-crowned hat, set on the side of his head with a challenging air;
+and a pair of broadly-striped and puckered trowsers, reaching well over
+a small-toed and highly-glazed boot, constitutes his dress. For the
+exact set of those two last-named articles of his wardrobe he maintains
+a scrupulous regard. We are compelled to acknowledge George an
+importation from New York, where he would be the more readily recognized
+by that vulgar epithet, too frequently used by the self-styled
+refined--"a swell."
+
+Life with George is a mere drift of uncertainty. As for aims and ends,
+why he sees the safer thing in having nothing to do with them. Mr. Tom
+Toddleworth once advised this course, and Tom was esteemed good
+authority in such matters. Like many others, his character is made up of
+those yielding qualities which the teachings of good men may elevate to
+usefulness, or bad men corrupt by their examples. There is a stage in
+the early youth of such persons when we find their minds singularly
+susceptible, and ready to give rapid growth to all the vices of depraved
+men; while they are equally apt in receiving good, if good men but take
+the trouble to care for them, and inculcate lessons of morality.
+
+Not having a recognized home, we may add, in resuming our story, that
+George makes Baker's his accustomed haunt during the day, as do also
+numerous others of his class--a class recognized and made use of by men
+in the higher walks of life only at night.
+
+"Ah! ha, ha! into a tight place this time, George," laughs out Mr.
+Soloman, the accommodation man, as he hastens into the room, seats
+himself in the box with George, and seizes his hand with the
+earnestness of a true friend. Mr. Soloman can deport himself on all
+occasions with becoming good nature. "It's got out, you see."
+
+"What has got out?" interrupts George, maintaining a careless
+indifference.
+
+"Come now! none of that, old fellow."
+
+"If I understood you--"
+
+"That affair last night," pursues Mr. Soloman, his delicate fingers
+wandering into his more delicately-combed beard. "It'll go hard with
+you. He's a stubborn old cove, that Sleepyhorn; administers the law as
+Caesar was wont to. Yesterday he sent seven to the whipping-post; to-day
+he hangs two 'niggers' and a white man. There is a consolation in
+getting rid of the white. I say this because no one loses a dollar by
+it."
+
+George, continuing to masticate his bread, says it has nothing to do
+with him. He may hang the town.
+
+"If I can do you a bit of a good turn, why here's your man. But you must
+not talk that way--you must not, George, I assure you!" Mr. Soloman
+assumes great seriousness of countenance, and again, in a friendly way,
+takes George by the hand. "That poignard, George, was yours. It was
+picked up by myself when it fell from your hand--"
+
+"My hand! my hand!" George quietly interposes, his countenance paling,
+and his eyes wandering in excitement.
+
+"Now don't attempt to disguise the matter, you know! Come out on the
+square--own up! Jealousy plays the devil with one now and then. I
+know--I have had a touch of it; had many a little love affair in my
+time--"
+
+George again interrupts by inquiring to what he is coming.
+
+"To the attempt (the accommodation man assumes an air of sternness) you
+made last night on the life of that unhappy girl. It is needless," he
+adds, "to plead ignorance. The Judge has the poignard; and what's more,
+there are four witnesses ready to testify. It'll go hard with you, my
+boy." He shakes his head warningly.
+
+"I swear before God and man I am as innocent as ignorant of the charge.
+The poignard I confess is mine; but I had no part in the act of last
+night, save to carry the prostrate girl--the girl I dearly love--away.
+This I can prove by her own lips."
+
+Mr. Soloman, with an air of legal profundity, says: "This is all very
+well in its way, George, but it won't stand in law. The law is what you
+have got to get at. And when you have got at it, you must get round it;
+and then you must twist it and work it every which way--only be careful
+not to turn its points against yourself; that, you know, is the way we
+lawyers do the thing. You'll think we're a sharp lot; and we have to be
+sharp, as times are."
+
+"It is not surprising," replies George, as if waking from a fit of
+abstraction, "that she should have sought revenge of one who so basely
+betrayed her at the St. Cecilia--"
+
+"There, there!" Mr. Soloman interrupts, changing entirely the expression
+of his countenance, "the whole thing is out! I said there was an
+unexplained mystery somewhere. It was not the Judge, but me who betrayed
+her to the assembly. Bless you, (he smiles, and crooking his finger,
+beckons a servant, whom he orders to bring a julep,) I was bound to do
+it, being the guardian of the Society's dignity, which office I have
+held for years. But you don't mean to have it that the girl
+attempted--(he suddenly corrects himself)--Ah, that won't do, George.
+Present my compliments to Anna--I wouldn't for the world do aught to
+hurt her feelings, you know that--and say I am ready to get on my knees
+to her to confess myself a penitent for having injured her feelings.
+Yes, I am ready to do anything that will procure her forgiveness. I
+plead guilty. But she must in return forgive the Judge. He is hard in
+law matters--that is, we of the law consider him so--now and then; but
+laying that aside, he is one of the best old fellows in the world, loves
+Anna to distraction; nor has he the worst opinion in the world of you,
+George. Fact is, I have several times heard him refer to you in terms of
+praise. As I said before, being the man to do you a bit of a good turn,
+take my advice as a friend. The Judge has got you in his grasp,
+according to every established principle of law; and having four good
+and competent witnesses, (You have no voice in law, and Anna's won't
+stand before a jury,) will send you up for a twelve-months' residence in
+Mount Rascal."
+
+It will be almost needless here to add, that Mr. Soloman had, in an
+interview with the Judge, arranged, in consideration of a goodly fee, to
+assume the responsibility of the betrayal at the St. Cecilia; and also
+to bring about a reconciliation between him and the girl he so
+passionately sought.
+
+Keep out of the way a few days, and everything will blow over and come
+right. I will procure you the Judge's friendship--yes, his money, if you
+want. More than that, I will acknowledge my guilt to Anna; and being as
+generous of heart as she is beautiful, she will, having discovered the
+mistake, forgive me and make amends to the Judge for her foolish act.
+
+It is almost superfluous to add, that the apparent sincerity with which
+the accommodation man pleaded, had its effect on the weak-minded man. He
+loved dearly the girl, but poverty hung like a leaden cloud over him.
+Poverty stripped him of the means of gratifying her ambition; poverty
+held him fast locked in its blighting chains; poverty forbid his
+rescuing her from the condition necessity had imposed upon her; poverty
+was goading him into crime; and through crime only did he see the means
+of securing to himself the cherished object of his love.
+
+"I am not dead to your friendship, but I am too sad at heart to make any
+pledge that involves Anna, at this moment. We met in wretchedness, came
+up in neglect and crime, sealed our love with the hard seal of
+suffering. Oh! what a history of misery my heart could unfold, if it had
+but a tongue!" George replies, in subdued accents, as a tear courses
+down his cheek.
+
+Extending his hand, with an air of encouragement, Mr. Soloman says
+nothing in the world would so much interest him as a history of the
+relations existing between George and Anna. Their tastes, aims, and very
+natures, are different. To him their connection is clothed in mystery.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+IN WHICH A GLEAM OF LIGHT IS SHED ON THE HISTORY OF ANNA BONARD.
+
+
+A bottle of wine, and the mild, persuasive manner of Mr. Snivel, so
+completely won over George's confidence, that, like one of that class
+always too ready to give out their heart-achings at the touch of
+sympathy, and too easily betrayed through misplaced confidence, he
+commences relating his history. That of Anna is identified with it. "We
+will together proceed to New York, for it is there, among haunts of vice
+and depravity--"
+
+"In depth of degradation they have no counterpart on our globe," Mr.
+Soloman interrupts, filling his glass.
+
+"We came up together--knew each other, but not ourselves. That was our
+dark age." George pauses for a moment.
+
+"Bless you," again interrupts Mr. Soloman, tipping his glass very
+politely, "I never--that is, when I hear our people who get themselves
+laced into narrow-stringed Calvinism, and long-founded foreign missions,
+talk--think much could have come of the dark ages. I speak after the
+manner of an attorney, when I say this. We hear a deal of the dark ages,
+the crimes of the dark ages, the dark idolatry of darker Africa. My word
+for it, and it's something, if they had anything darker in Sodom; if
+they had in Babylon a state of degradation more hardened of crime; if
+in Egypt there existed a benightedness more stubbornly opposed to the
+laws of God--than is to be found in that New York; that city of merchant
+princes with princely palaces; that modern Pompeii into which a mighty
+commerce teems its mightier gold, where a coarse throng revel in coarser
+luxury, where a thousand gaudy churches rear heavenward their gaudier
+steeples, then I have no pity for Sodom, not a tear to shed over fallen
+Babylon, and very little love for Egypt." Mr. Snivel concludes,
+saying--"proceed, young man."
+
+"Of my mother I know nothing. My father (I mean the man I called father,
+but who they said was not my father, though he was the only one that
+cared anything for me) was Tom English, who used to live here and there
+with me about the Points. He was always looking in at Paddy Pie's, in
+Orange street, and Paddy Pie got all his money, and then Paddy Pie and
+him quarrelled, and we were turned out of Paddy Pie's house. So we used
+to lodge here and there, in the cellars about the Points, in 'Cut Throat
+Alley,' or 'Cow Bay,' or 'Murderer's Alley,' or in 'The House of the
+Nine Nations,' or wherever we could get a sixpenny rag to lay down upon.
+Nobody but English seemed to care for me, and English cared for nobody
+but me. And English got thick with Mrs. McCarty and her three
+daughters--they kept the Rookery in 'Cow Bay,' which we used to get to
+up a long pair of stairs outside, and which God knows I never want to
+think of again,--where sometimes fourteen or fifteen of us, men and
+women, used to sleep in a little room Mrs. McCarty paid eight dollars a
+month for. And Mr. Crown, who always seemed a cross sort of man, and was
+agent for all the houses on the Points I thought, used to say she had it
+too cheap. And English got to thinking a good deal of Mrs. McCarty, and
+Mrs. McCarty's daughters got to thinking a good deal of him. And
+Boatswain Bill, who lived at the house of the 'Nine Nations'--the house
+they said had a bottomless pit--and English used to fight a deal about
+the Miss McCartys, and Bill one night threw English over the high stoop,
+down upon the pavement, and broke his arms. They said it was a wonder it
+hadn't a broken his neck. Fighting Mary (Mary didn't go by that name
+then) came up and took English's part, and whipped Boatswain Bill, and
+said she'd whip the whole house of the 'Nine Nations' if it had spunk
+enough in it to come on. But no one dare have a set-to with Mary. Mary
+used to drink a deal of gin, and say--'this gin and the devil'll get us
+all one of these days. I wonder if Mr. Crown'll sell bad gin to his
+highness when he gets him?' Well, Bill was sent up for six months, so
+the McCartys had peace in the house, and Mrs. McCarty got him little
+things, and did for English until his arms got well. Then he got a
+little money, (I don't know how he got it,) and Paddy Pie made good
+friends with him, and got him from the Rookery, and then all his money.
+I used to think all the money in the Points found its way either to the
+house of Paddy Pie, or the Bottomless Pit at the house of the 'Nine
+Nations,' and all the clothes to the sign of the 'Three Martyrs,' which
+the man with the eagle face kept round the corner.
+
+"English used to say in one of his troubled fits, 'I'd like to be a
+respectable man, and get out of this, if there was a chance, and do
+something for you, George. There's no chance, you see.' And when we went
+into Broadway, which we did now and then, and saw what another world it
+was, and how rich everything looked, English used to shake his head and
+say, 'they don't know how we live, George.'
+
+"Paddy Pie soon quarrelled with English, and being penniless again we
+had to shift for ourselves. English didn't like to go back to Mrs.
+McCarty, so we used to sleep at Mrs. Sullivan's cellar in 'Cut Throat
+Alley.' And Mrs. Sullivan's cellar was only about twelve feet by twenty,
+and high enough to stand up in, and wet enough for anything, and so
+overrun with rats and vermin that we couldn't sleep. There were nine
+rag-beds in the cellar, which as many as twenty-three would sometimes
+sleep on, or, if they were not too tipsy, try to sleep on. And folks
+used to come into the cellar at night, and be found dead in the morning.
+This made such a fuss in the neighborhood (there was always a fuss when
+Old Bones, the coroner, was about), and frightened so many, that Mrs.
+Sullivan couldn't get lodgers for weeks. She used to nail no end of
+horse-shoes over the door to keep out the ghosts of them that died last.
+But it was a long while before her lodgers got courage enough to come
+back. Then we went to the house of the Blazers, in 'Cow Bay,' and used
+to lodge there with Yellow Bill. They said Bill was a thief by
+profession; but I wasn't old enough to be a judge. Little Lizza Rock,
+the nondescript, as people called her, used to live at the Blazers. Poor
+Lizza had a hard time of it, and used to sigh and say she wished she was
+dead. Nobody thought of her, she said, and she was nothing because she
+was deformed, and a cripple. She was about four feet high, had a face
+like a bull-dog, and a swollen chest, and a hunchback, a deformed leg,
+and went with a crutch. She never combed her hair, and what few rags she
+had on her back hung in filth. What few shillings she got were sure to
+find their way either into Bill's pocket, or send her tipsy into the
+'Bottomless Pit' of the house of the 'Nine Nations.' There was in the
+Bottomless Pit a never-ending stream of gin that sent everybody to the
+Tombs, and from the Tombs to the grave. But Lizza was good to me, and
+used to take care of me, and steal little things for me from old Dan
+Sullivan, who begged in Broadway, and let Yellow Bill get his money, by
+getting him tipsy. And I got to liking Lizza, for we both seemed to have
+no one in the world who cared for us but English. And there was always
+some trouble between the Blazers and the people at the house of the
+'Nine Nations.'
+
+"Well, English was hard to do for some time, and through necessity,
+which he said a deal about, we were driven out of every place we had
+sought shelter in. And English did something they sent him up for a
+twelve-month for, and I was left to get on as I could. I was took in by
+'Hard-Fisted Sall,' who always wore a knuckle-duster, and used to knock
+everybody down she met, and threatened a dozen times to whip Mr.
+Fitzgerald, the detective, and used to rob every one she took in tow,
+and said if she could only knock down and rob the whole pumpkin-headed
+corporation she should die easy, for then she would know she had done a
+good thing for the public, whose money they were squandering without
+once thinking how the condition of such wretches as herself could be
+bettered.
+
+"English died before he had been up two months. And death reconciled the
+little difficulty between him and the McCartys; and old Mrs. McCarty's
+liking for him came back, and she went crying to the Bellevue and begged
+them, saying she was his mother, to let her take his body away and bury
+it. They let her have it, and she brought it away to the rookery, in a
+red coffin, and got a clean sheet of the Blazers, and hung it up beside
+the coffin, and set four candles on a table, and a little cross between
+them, and then borrowed a Bible with a cross on it, and laid it upon the
+coffin. Then they sent for me. I cried and kissed poor English, for poor
+English was the only father I knew, and he was good to me. I never shall
+forget what I saw in that little room that night. I found a dozen
+friends and the McCartys there, forming a half-circle of curious and
+demoniacal faces, peering over the body of English, whose face, I
+thought, formed the only repose in the picture. There were two small
+pictures--one of the Saviour, and the other of Kossuth--hung at the head
+and feet of the corpse; and the light shed a lurid paleness over the
+living and the dead. And detective Fitzgerald and another gentleman
+looked in.
+
+"'Who's here to-night?' says Fitzgerald, in a friendly sort of way.
+
+"'God love ye, Mr. Fitzgerald, poor English is gone! Indeed, then, it
+was the will of the Lord, and He's taken him from us--poor English!'
+says Mrs. McCarty. And Fitzgerald, and the gentleman with him, entered
+the den, and they shuddered and sat down at the sight of the face in the
+coffin. 'Sit down, Mr. Fitzgerald, do!--and may the Lord love ye! There
+was a deal of good in poor English. He's gone--so he is!' said Mrs.
+McCarty, begging them to sit down, and excuse the disordered state of
+her few rags. She had a hard struggle to live, God knows. They took off
+their hats, and sat a few minutes in solemn silence. The rags moved at
+the gentleman's side, which made him move towards the door. 'What is
+there, my good woman?' he inquired. 'She's a blessed child, Mr.
+Fitzgerald knows that same:' says Mrs. McCarty, turning down the rags
+and revealing the wasted features of her youngest girl, a child eleven
+years old, sinking in death. 'God knows she'll be better in heaven, and
+herself won't be long out of it,' Mrs. McCarty twice repeated,
+maintaining a singular indifference to the hand of death, already upon
+the child. The gentleman left some money to buy candles for poor
+English, and with Mr. Fitzgerald took himself away.
+
+"Near midnight, the tall black figure of solemn-faced Father Flaherty
+stalked in. He was not pleased with the McCartys, but went to the side
+of the dying child, fondled her little wasted hand in his own, and
+whispered a prayer for her soul. Never shall I forget how innocently she
+looked in his face while he parted the little ringlets that curled over
+her brow, and told her she would soon have a better home in a better
+world. Then he turned to poor English, and the cross, and the candles,
+and the pictures, and the living faces that gave such a ghastliness to
+the picture. Mrs. McCarty brought him a basin of water, over which he
+muttered, and made it holy. Then he again muttered some unintelligible
+sentences, and sprinkled the water over the dying child, over the body
+of poor English, and over the living--warning Mrs. McCarty and her
+daughters, as he pointed to the coffin. Then he knelt down, and they all
+knelt down, and he prayed for the soul of poor English, and left. What
+holy water then was left, Mrs. McCarty placed near the door, to keep the
+ghosts out.
+
+"The neighbors at the Blazers took a look in, and a few friends at the
+house of the 'Nine Nations' took a look in, and 'Fighting Mary,' of
+Murderer's Alley, took a look in, and before Father Flaherty had got
+well out of 'Cow Bay,' it got to be thought a trifle of a wake would
+console Mrs. McCarty's distracted feelings. 'Hard-fisted Sall' came to
+take a last look at poor English; and she said she would spend her last
+shilling over poor English, and having one, it would get a drop, and a
+drop dropped into the right place would do Mrs. McCarty a deal of good.
+
+"And Mrs. McCarty agreed that it wouldn't be amiss, and putting with
+Sall's shilling the money that was to get the candles, I was sent to the
+'Bottomless Pit' at the house of the 'Nine Nations,' where Mr. Crown had
+a score with the old woman, and fetched away a quart of his gin, which
+they said was getting the whole of them. The McCartys took a drop, and
+the girls took a drop, and the neighbors took a drop, and they all kept
+taking drops, and the drops got the better of them all. One of the Miss
+McCartys got to having words with 'Fighting Mary,' about an old affair
+in which poor English was concerned, and the words got to blows, when
+Mr. Flanegan at the Blazers stepped in to make peace. But the whole
+house got into a fight, and the lights were put out, the corpse knocked
+over, and the child (it was found dead in the morning) suffocated with
+the weight of bodies felled in the melee. The noise and cries of murder
+brought the police rushing in, and most of them were dragged off to the
+Station; and the next day being Sunday, I wandered homeless and
+friendless into Sheriff street. Poor English was taken in charge by the
+officers. They kept him over Monday to see if any one would come up and
+claim him. No one came for him; no one knew more of him than that he
+went by the name of English; no one ever heard him say where he came
+from--he never said a word about my mother, or whether he had a relation
+in the world. He was carted off to Potter's Field and buried. That was
+the last of poor English.
+
+"We seldom got much to eat in the Points, and I had not tasted food for
+twenty-four hours. I sat down on the steps of a German grocery, and was
+soon ordered away by the keeper. Then I wandered into a place they
+called Nightmare's Alley, where three old wooden buildings with
+broken-down verandas stood, and were inhabited principally by butchers.
+I sat down on the steps of one, and thought if I only had a mother, or
+some one to care for me, and give me something to eat, how happy I
+should be. And I cried. And a great red-faced man came out of the house,
+and took me in, and gave me something to eat. His name was Mike
+Mullholland, and he was good to me, and I liked him, and took his name.
+And he lived with a repulsive looking woman, in a little room he paid
+ten dollars a month for. He had two big dogs, and worked at day work, in
+a slaughter-house in Staunton street. The dogs were known in the
+neighborhood as Mullholland's dogs, and with them I used to sleep on the
+rags of carpet spread for us in the room with Mullholland and his wife,
+who I got to calling mother. This is how I took the name of Mullholland.
+I was glad to leave the Points, and felt as if I had a home. But there
+was a 'Bottomless Pit' in Sheriff street, and though not so bad as the
+one at the house of the 'Nine Nations,' it gave out a deal of gin that
+the Mullhollands had a liking for. I was continually going for it, and
+the Mullhollands were continually drinking it; and the whole
+neighborhood liked it, and in 'Nightmare's Alley' the undertaker found a
+profitable business.
+
+"In the morning I went with the dogs to the slaughter-house, and there
+fed them, and took care of the fighting cocks, and brought gin for the
+men who worked there. In the afternoon I joined the newsboys, as ragged
+and neglected as myself, gambled for cents, and watched the policemen,
+whom we called the Charleys. I lived with Mullholland two years, and saw
+and felt enough to make hardened any one of my age. One morning there
+came a loud knocking at the door, which was followed by the entrance of
+two officers. The dogs had got out and bitten a child, and the officers,
+knowing who owned them, had come to arrest Mullholland. We were all
+surprised, for the officers recognized in Mullholland and the woman two
+old offenders. And while they were dragged off to the Tombs, I was left
+to prey upon the world as best I could. Again homeless, I wandered about
+with urchins as ragged and destitute as myself. It seemed to me that
+everybody viewed me as an object of suspicion, for I sought in vain for
+employment that would give me bread and clothing. I wanted to be honest,
+and would have lived honest; but I could not make people believe me
+honest. And when I told who I was, and where I sheltered myself, I was
+ordered away. Everybody judged me by the filthy shreds on my back;
+nobody had anything for me to do.
+
+"I applied at a grocer's, to sweep his store and go errands. When I told
+him where I had lived, he shook his head and ordered me away. Knowing I
+could fill a place not unknown to me, I applied at a butcher's in Mott
+street; but he pointed his knife--which left a wound in my feelings--and
+ordered me away. And I was ordered away wherever I went. The doors of
+the Chatham theatre looked too fine for me. My ragged condition rebuked
+me wherever I went, and for more than a week I slept under a cart that
+stood in Mott street. Then Tom Farley found me, and took me with him to
+his cellar, in Elizabeth street, where we had what I thought a good bed
+of shavings. Tom sold _Heralds_, gambled for cents, and shared with me,
+and we got along. Then Tom stole a dog, and the dog got us into a deal
+of trouble, which ended with getting us both into the Tombs, where Tom
+was locked up. I was again adrift, as we used to call it, and thought of
+poor Tom a deal. Every one I met seemed higher up in the world than I
+was. But I got into Centre Market, carried baskets, and did what I could
+to earn a shilling, and slept in Tom's bed, where there was some nights
+fifteen and twenty like myself.
+
+"One morning, while waiting a job, my feet and hands benumbed with the
+cold, a beautiful lady slipped a shilling into my hand and passed on. To
+one penniless and hungry, it seemed a deal of money. Necessity had
+almost driven me to the sign of the 'Three Martyrs,' to see what the man
+of the eagle face would give me on my cap, for they said the man at the
+'Three Martyrs' lent money on rags such as I had. I followed the woman,
+for there was something so good in the act that I could not resist it.
+She entered a fine house in Leonard street.
+
+"You must now go with me into the den of Hag Zogbaum, in 'Scorpion
+Cove;' and 'Scorpion Cove' is in Pell street. Necessity next drove me
+there. It is early spring, we will suppose; and being in the Bowery, we
+find the streets in its vicinity reeking with putrid matter, hurling
+pestilence into the dark dwellings of the unknown poor, and making
+thankful the coffin-maker, who in turn thanks a nonundertaking
+corporation for the rich harvest. The muck is everywhere deep enough
+for hogs and fat aldermen to wallow in, and would serve well the
+purposes of a supper-eating corporation, whose chief business it was to
+fatten turtles and make Presidents.
+
+"We have got through the muck of the mucky Bowery. Let us turn to the
+left as we ascend the hill from Chatham street, and into a narrow,
+winding way, called Doyer's street. Dutch Sophy, then, as now, sits in
+all the good nature of her short, fat figure, serving her customers with
+ices, at three cents. Her cunning black eyes and cheerful, ruddy face,
+enhance the air of pertness that has made her a favorite with her
+customers. We will pass the little wooden shop, where Mr. Saunders makes
+boots of the latest style, and where old lapstone, with curious framed
+spectacles tied over his bleared eyes, has for the last forty years been
+seen at the window trimming welts, and mending every one's sole but his
+own; we will pass the four story wooden house that the landlord never
+paints--that has the little square windows, and the little square door,
+and the two little iron hand rails that curl so crabbedly at the ends,
+and guard four crabbeder steps that give ingress and egress to its swarm
+of poor but honest tenants; we will pass the shop where a short, stylish
+sign tells us Mr. Robertson makes bedsteads; and the little, slanting
+house a line of yellow letters on a square of black tin tells us is a
+select school for young ladies, and the bright, dainty looking house
+with the green shutters, where lives Mr. Vredenburg the carpenter, who,
+the neighbors say, has got up in the world, and paints his house to show
+that he feels above poor folks--and find we have reached the sooty and
+gin-reeking grocery of Mr. Korner, who sells the _devil's elixir_ to the
+sootier devils that swarm the cellars of his neighbors. The faded blue
+letters, on a strip of wood nailed to the bricks over his door, tell us
+he is a dealer in 'Imported and other liquors.' Next door to Mr.
+Korner's tipsy looking grocery lives Mr. Muffin, the coffin-maker, who
+has a large business with the disciples who look in at Korner's. Mrs.
+Downey, a decent sort of body, who lives up the alley, and takes
+sixpenny lodgers by the dozen, may be seen in great tribulation with her
+pet pig, who, every day, much to the annoyance of Mr. Korner, manages to
+get out, and into the pool of decaying matter opposite his door, where
+he is sure to get stuck, and with his natural propensity, squeals
+lustily for assistance. Mrs. Downey, as is her habit, gets distracted;
+and having well abused Mr. Korner for his interference in a matter that
+can only concern herself and the animal, ventures to her knees in the
+mire, and having seized her darling pig by the two ears, does, with the
+assistance of a policeman, who kindly takes him by the tail, extricate
+his porkship, to the great joy of herself. The animal scampers,
+grunting, up the alley, as Mr. Korner, in his shirt sleeves, throws his
+broom after him, and the policeman surlily says he wishes it was the
+street commissioner.
+
+"We have made the circle of Doyer's street, and find it fortified on
+Pell street, with two decrepit wooden buildings, that the demand for the
+'devil's elixir,' has converted into Dutch groceries, their exteriors
+presenting the appearance of having withstood a storm of dilapidated
+clapboards, broken shutters, red herrings, and onions. Mr. Voss looks
+suspiciously through the broken shutters of his Gibraltar, at his
+neighbor of the opposite Gibraltar, and is heard to say of his wares
+that they are none of the best, and that while he sells sixpence a pint
+less, the article is a shilling a pint better. And there the two
+Gibraltars stand, apparently infirm, hurling their unerring missiles,
+and making wreck of everything in the neighborhood.
+
+"We have turned down Pell street toward Mott, and on the north side a
+light-colored sign, representing a smith in the act of shoeing a horse,
+attracts the eye, and tells us the old cavern-like building over which
+it swings, is where Mr. Mooney does smithwork and shoeing. And a little
+further on, a dash of yellow and white paint on a little sign-board at
+the entrance of an alley, guarded on one side by a broken-down shed, and
+on the other, by a three-story, narrow, brick building (from the windows
+of which trail long water-stains, and from the broken panes a dozen
+curious black heads, of as many curious eyed negroes protrude), tells us
+somewhat indefinitely, that Mister Mills, white-washer and wall-colorer,
+may be found in the neighborhood, which, judging from outward
+appearances, stands much in need of this good man's services. Just keep
+your eye on the sign of the white-washer and wall-colorer, and passing
+up the sickly alley it tells you Mister Mills maybe found in, you will
+find yourself (having picked your way over putrid matter, and placed
+your perfumed cambric where it will protect your lungs from the
+inhalation of pestilential air,) in the cozy area of 'Scorpion Cove.'
+Scorpion Cove is bounded at one end by a two-story wooden house, with
+two decayed and broken verandas in front, and rickety steps leading here
+and there to suspicious looking passages, into which, and out of which a
+never-ending platoon of the rising generation crawl and toddle, keep up
+a cheap serenade, and like rats, scamper away at the sight of a
+stranger; and on the other, by the back of the brick house with the
+negro-headed front. At the sides are two broken-down board fences, and
+forming a sort of network across the cove, are an innumerable quantity
+of unoccupied clothes-lines, which would seem only to serve the
+mischievous propensities of young negroes and the rats. There is any
+quantity of rubbish in 'Scorpion Cove,' and any amount of
+disease-breeding cesspools; but the corporation never heard of 'Scorpion
+Cove,' and wouldn't look into it if it had. If you ask me how it came to
+be called 'Scorpion Cove,' I will tell you. The brick house at one end
+was occupied by negroes; and the progeny of these negroes swarmed over
+the cove, and were called scorpions. The old house of the verandas at
+the other end, and which had an air of being propped up after a shock of
+paralysis, was inhabited by twenty or more families, of the Teutonic
+race, whose numerous progeny, called the hedge-hogs, were more than a
+match for the scorpions, and with that jealousy of each other which
+animates these races did the scorpions and hedge-hogs get at war. In the
+morning the scorpions would crawl up through holes in the cellar,
+through broken windows, through the trap-doors, down the long stairway
+that wound from the second and third stories over the broken pavilion,
+and from nobody could tell where--for they came, it seems, from every
+rat-hole, and with rolling white eyes, marshalled themselves for battle.
+The hedge-hogs mustering in similar strength, and springing up from no
+one could tell where, would set upon the scorpions, and after a goodly
+amount of wallowing in the mire, pulling hair and wool, scratching faces
+and pommeling noses, the scorpions being alternately the victors and
+vanquished, the war would end at the appearance of Hag Zogbaum, who,
+with her broom, would cause the scorpions to beat a hasty retreat. The
+hedge-hogs generally came off victorious, for they were the stronger
+race. But the old hedge-hogs got much shattered in time by the
+broadsides of the two Gibraltars, which sent them broadside on into the
+Tombs. And this passion of the elder hedge-hogs for getting into the
+Tombs, caused by degrees a curtailing of the younger hedge-hogs. And
+this falling off in the forces of the foe, singularly inspirited the
+scorpions, who mustered courage, and after a series of savage battles,
+in which there was a notorious amount of wool-pulling, gained the day.
+And this is how 'Scorpion Cove' got its name.
+
+"Hag Zogbaum lived in the cellar of the house with the verandas; and old
+Dan Sullivan and the rats had possession of the garret. In the cellar of
+this woman, whose trade was the fostering of crime in children as
+destitute as myself, there was a bar and a back cellar, where as many as
+twenty boys and girls slept on straw and were educated in vice. She took
+me into her nursery, and I was glad to get there, for I had no other
+place to go.
+
+"In the morning we were sent out to pilfer, to deceive the credulous,
+and to decoy others to the den. Some were instructed by Hag Zogbaum to
+affect deaf and dumb, to plead the starving condition of our parents,
+to, in a word, enlist the sympathies of the credulous with an hundred
+different stories. We were all stimulated by a premium being held out to
+the most successful. Some were sent out to steal pieces of iron, brass,
+copper, and old junk; and these Hag Zogbaum would sell or give to the
+man who kept the junk-shop in Stanton street, known as the rookery at
+the corner. (This man lived with Hag Zogbaum.) We returned at night with
+our booty, and received our wages in gin or beer. The unsuccessful were
+set down as victims of bad luck. Now and then the old woman would call
+us a miserable lot of wretches she was pestered to take care of. At one
+time there were in this den of wretchedness fifteen girls from seven to
+eleven years old, and seven boys under eleven--all being initiated into
+the by-ways of vice and crime. Among the girls were Italians, Germans,
+Irish, and--shall I say it?--Americans! It was curious to see what means
+the old hag would resort to for the purpose of improving their features
+after they had arrived at a certain age. She had a purpose in this; and
+that purpose sprang from that traffic in depravity caused by the demands
+of a depraved society, a theme on her lips continually."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+A CONTINUATION OF GEORGE MULLHOLLAND'S HISTORY.
+
+
+"Having served well the offices of felons and impostors, Hag Zogbaum
+would instruct her girls in the mysteries of licentiousness. When they
+reached a certain age, their personal appearance was improved, and one
+by one they were passed into the hands of splendidly-dressed ladies, as
+we then took them to be, who paid a sum for them to Hag Zogbaum, and
+took them away; and that was the last we saw of them. They had no desire
+to remain in their miserable abode, and were only too glad to get away
+from it. In most cases they were homeless and neglected orphans; and
+knowing no better condition, fell easy victims to the snares set for
+them.
+
+"It was in this dark, cavern-like den--in this mysterious caldron of
+precocious depravity, rioting unheeded in the very centre of a great
+city, whose boasted wealth and civilization it might put to shame, if
+indeed it were capable of shame, I first met the child of beauty, Anna
+Bonard. Yes!--the Anna Bonard you now see at the house of Madame
+Flamingo. At that time she was but seven years old--a child of uncommon
+beauty and aptness, of delicate but well-proportioned features, of
+middle stature, and a face that care might have made charming beyond
+comparison. But vice hardens, corrodes, and gives a false hue to the
+features. Anna said she was an orphan. How far this was true I know
+not. A mystery shrouded the way in which she fell into the hands of Hag
+Zogbaum. Hag Zogbaum said she got her of an apple-woman; and the
+apple-woman kept a stand in West street, but never would disclose how
+she came by Anna. And Mr. Tom Toddleworth, who was the chronicle of the
+Points, and used to look into 'Scorpion Cove' now and then, and inquire
+about Anna, as if he had a sort of interest in her, they said knew all
+about her. But if he did, he always kept it a secret between himself and
+Hag Zogbaum.
+
+"She was always of a melancholy turn, used to say life was but a burden
+to her--that she could see nothing in the future that did not seem dark
+and tortuous. The lot into which she was cast of necessity others might
+have mistaken for that which she had chosen. It was not. The hard hand
+of necessity had forced her into this quicksand of death; the
+indifference of a naturally generous community, robbed her of the light
+of intelligence, and left her a helpless victim in the hands of this
+cultivator of vice. How could she, orphan as she was called, and
+unencouraged, come to be a noble and generous-hearted woman? No one
+offered her the means to come up and ornament her sex; but tyrannical
+society neither forgets her misfortunes nor forgives her errors. Once
+seal the death-warrant of a woman's errors, and you have none to come
+forward and cancel it; the tomb only removes the seal. Anna took a
+liking to me, and was kind to me, and looked to me to protect her. And I
+loved her, and our love grew up, and strengthened; and being alike
+neglected in the world, our condition served as the strongest means of
+cementing our attachment.
+
+"Hag Zogbaum then sent Anna away to the house up the alley, in Elizabeth
+street, where she sent most of her girls when they had reached the age
+of eleven and twelve. Hag Zogbaum had many places for her female pupils.
+The very best looking always went a while to the house in the alley; the
+next best looking were sure to find their way into the hands of Miss
+Brown, in Little Water street, and Miss Brown, they said, sold them to
+the fairies of the South, who dressed them in velvet and gold; and the
+'scrubs,' as the old woman used to call the rest, got, by some
+mysterious process, into the hands of Paddy Pie and Tim Branahan, who
+kept shantees in Orange street.
+
+"Anna had been away some time, and Mr. Tom Toddleworth had several times
+been seen to look in and inquire for her. Mr. Toddleworth said he had a
+ripping bid for her. At that time I was ignorant of its meaning. Harry
+Rooney and me were sent to the house in Elizabeth street, one morning,
+to bring Anna and another girl home. The house was large, and had an air
+of neatness about it that contrasted strangely with the den in 'Scorpion
+Cove.' We rang the bell and inquired for the girls, who, after waiting
+nearly an hour, were sent down to us, clean and neatly dressed. In Anna
+the change was so great, that though I had loved her, and thought of her
+day and night during her absence, I scarce recognized her. So glad did
+she seem to see me that she burst into tears, flung her arms about my
+neck, and kissed me with the fondness of a sister. Then she recounted
+with childlike enthusiasm the kind treatment she had received at the
+house of Madame Harding (for such it was called), between whom and Hag
+Zogbaum there was carried on a species of business I am not inclined to
+designate here. Two kind and splendidly-dressed ladies, Anna said,
+called to see them nearly every day, and were going to take them away,
+that they might live like fairies all the rest of their lives.
+
+"When we got home, two ladies were waiting at the den. It was not the
+first time we had seen them at the den. Anna recognized them as the
+ladies she had seen at Madame Harding's. One was the woman who so kindly
+gave me the shilling in the market, when I was cold and hungry. A
+lengthy whispering took place between Hag Zogbaum and the ladies, and we
+were ordered into the back cellar. I knew the whispering was about Anna;
+and watching through the boards I heard the Hag say Anna was fourteen
+and nothing less, and saw one of the ladies draw from her purse numerous
+pieces of gold, which were slipped into her hand. In a few minutes more
+I saw poor little Anna follow her up the steps that led into 'Scorpion
+Cove.' When we were released Hag was serving ragged and dejected-looking
+men with gin and beer. Anna, she said when I inquired, had gone to a
+good home in the country. I loved her ardently, and being lonesome was
+not content with the statement of the old woman. I could not read, but
+had begun to think for myself, and something told me all was not right.
+For weeks and months I watched at the house in Leonard street, into
+which I had followed the woman who gave me the shilling. But I neither
+saw her nor the woman. Elegant carriages, and elegantly-dressed men
+drove to and from the door, and passed in and out of the house, and the
+house seemed to have a deal of fashionable customers, and that was all I
+knew of it then.
+
+"As I watched one night, a gentleman came out of the house, took me by
+the arm and shook me, said I was a loitering vagrant, that he had seen
+me before, and having a suspicious look he would order the watch to lock
+me up. He inquired where my home was; and when I told him it was in
+'Scorpion Cove,' he replied he didn't know where that was. I told him it
+wasn't much of a home, and he said I ought to have a better one. It was
+all very well to say so; but with me the case was different. That night
+I met Tom Farley, who was glad to see me, and told how he got out of the
+lock-up, and what he thought of the lock-up, and the jolly old Judge who
+sent him to the lock-up, and who he saw in the lock-up, and what
+mischief was concocted in the lock-up, and what he got to eat in the
+lock-up, and how the lock-up wasn't so bad a place after all.
+
+"The fact was I was inclined to think the lock-up not so bad a place to
+get into, seeing how they gave people something good to eat, and clothes
+to wear. Tom and me went into business together. We sold _Heralds_ and
+Sunday papers, and made a good thing of it, and shared our earnings, and
+got enough to eat and some clothes. I took up my stand in Centre Market,
+and Tom took up his at Peck Slip. At night we would meet, count our
+earnings, and give them to Mr. Crogan, who kept the cellar in Water
+street, where we slept. I left Hag Zogbaum, who we got to calling the
+wizard. She got all we could earn or pilfer, and we got nothing for our
+backs but a few rags, and unwholesome fish and beer for our bellies. I
+thought of Anna day and night; I hoped to meet in Centre Market the
+woman who took her away.
+
+"I said no one ever looked in at the den in 'Scorpion Cove,' but there
+was a kind little man, with sharp black eyes, and black hair, and an
+earnest olive-colored face, and an earnester manner about him, who used
+to look in now and then, talk kindly to us, and tell us he wished he had
+a home for us all, and was rich enough to give us all enough to eat. He
+hated Hag Zogbaum, and Hag Zogbaum hated him; but we all liked him
+because he was kind to us, and used to shake his head, and say he would
+do something for us yet. Hag Zogbaum said he was always meddling with
+other people's business. At other times a man would come along and throw
+tracts in at the gate of the alley. We were ignorant of what they were
+intended for, and used to try to sell them at the Gibraltars. Nobody
+wanted them, and nobody could read at the den, so Hag Zogbaum lighted
+the fire with them, and that was the end of them.
+
+"Well, I sold papers for nearly two years, and learned to read a little
+by so doing, and got up in the world a little; and being what was called
+smart, attracted the attention of a printer in Nassau street, who took
+me into his office, and did well by me. My mind was bent on getting a
+trade. I knew I could do well for myself with a trade to lean upon. Two
+years I worked faithfully at the printer's, was approaching manhood, and
+with the facilities it afforded me had not failed to improve my mind and
+get a tolerable good knowledge of the trade. But the image of Anna, and
+the singular manner in which she disappeared, made me unhappy.
+
+"On my return from dinner one day I met in Broadway the lady who took
+Anna away. The past and its trials flashed across my brain, and I turned
+and followed her--found that her home was changed to Mercer street, and
+this accounted for my fruitless watching in Leonard street.
+
+"The love of Anna, that had left its embers smouldering in my bosom,
+quickened, and seemed to burn with redoubled ardor. It was my first and
+only love; the sufferings of our childhood had made it lasting. My very
+emotion rose to action as I saw the woman I knew took her away. My
+anxiety to know her fate had no bounds. Dressing myself up as
+respectably as it was possible with my means, I took advantage of a dark
+and stormy night in the month of November to call at the house in Mercer
+street, into which I had traced the lady. I rung the bell; a
+sumptuously-dressed woman came to the door, which opened into a
+gorgeously-decorated hall. She looked at me with an inquiring eye and
+disdainful frown, inquired who I was and what I wanted. I confess I was
+nervous, for the dazzling splendor of the mansion produced in me a
+feeling of awe rather than admiration. I made known my mission as best I
+could; the woman said no such person had ever resided there. In that
+moment of disappointment I felt like casting myself away in despair. The
+associations of Scorpion Cove, of the house of the Nine Nations, of the
+Rookery, of Paddy Pie's--or any other den in that desert of death that
+engulphs the Points, seemed holding out a solace for the melancholy that
+weighed me down. But when I got back into Broadway my resolution gained
+strength, and with it I wept over the folly of my thoughts.
+
+"Led by curiosity, and the air of comfort pervading the well-furnished
+room, and the piously-disposed appearance of the persons who passed in
+and out, I had several times looked in at the house of the 'Foreign
+Missions,' as we used to call it. A man with a good-natured face used to
+sit in the chair, and a wise-looking little man in spectacles (the
+Secretary) used to sit a bit below him, and a dozen or two
+well-disposed persons of both sexes, with sharp and anxious
+countenances, used to sit round in a half circle, listening. The
+wise-looking man in the spectacles would, on motion of some one present,
+read a long report, which was generally made up of a list of donations
+and expenditures for getting up a scheme to evangelize the world, and
+get Mr. Singleton Spyke off to Antioch. It seemed to me as if a deal of
+time and money was expended on Mr. Singleton Spyke, and yet Mr. Spyke
+never got off to Antioch. When the man of the spectacles got through
+reading the long paper, and the good-natured man in the chair got
+through explaining that the heavy amount of twenty-odd thousand dollars
+had been judiciously expended for the salary of officers of the society,
+and the getting Brothers Spurn and Witherspoon off to enlighten the
+heathen, Brother Singleton Spyke's mission would come up. Every one
+agreed that there ought to be no delay in getting Brother Spyke off to
+Antioch; but a small deficiency always stood in the way. And Brother
+Spyke seemed spiked to this deficiency; for notwithstanding Mrs. Slocum,
+who was reckoned the strongest-minded woman, and best business-man of
+the society, always made speeches in favor of Brother Spyke and his
+mission (a special one), he never got off to Antioch.
+
+"Feeling forlorn, smarting under disappointment, and undecided where to
+go after I left the house in Mercer street, I looked in at the house of
+the 'Foreign Missions.' Mrs. Slocum, as I had many times before seen
+her, was warmly contesting a question concerning Brother Spyke, with the
+good-natured man in the chair. It was wrong, she said, so much money
+should be expended, and Brother Spyke not got off to Antioch. So leaving
+them debating Mr. Spyke's mission to Antioch, I proceeded back to the
+house in Mercer street, and inquired for the landlady of the house. The
+landlady, the woman that opened the door said, was engaged. The door was
+shut in my face, and I turned away more wounded in my feelings than
+before. Day and night I contemplated some plan by which to ascertain
+Anna's place of abode, her pursuit in life, her wants. When we parted
+she could neither write nor read: I had taken writing lessons, by which
+I could communicate tolerably well, while my occupation afforded me the
+means of improvement. A few weeks passed (I continued to watch the
+house), and I recognized her one afternoon, by her black, floating hair,
+sitting at a second-story window of the house in Mercer street, her back
+toward me. The sight was like electricity on my feelings; a transport of
+joy bore away my thoughts. I gazed, and continued to gaze upon the
+object, throwing, as it were, new passion into my soul. But it turned,
+and there was a changed face, a face more lovely, looking eagerly into a
+book. Looking eagerly into a book did not betray one who could not read.
+But there was that in my heart that prompted me to look on the favorable
+side of the doubt--to try a different expedient in gaining admittance to
+the house. When night came, I assumed a dress those who look on
+mechanics as vulgar people, would have said became a gentleman; and
+approaching the house, gained easy admittance. As I was about entering
+the great parlors, a familiar but somewhat changed voice at the top of
+the circling stairs that led from the hall caught my ear. I paused,
+listened, became entranced with suspense. Again it resounded--again my
+heart throbbed with joy. It was Anna's voice, so soft and musical. The
+woman who opened the door turned from me, and attempted to hush it. But
+Anna seemed indifferent to the admonition, for she tripped buoyantly
+down stairs, accompanying a gentleman to the door. I stood before her, a
+changed person. Her recognition of me was instantaneous. Her color
+changed, her lips quivered, her eyes filled with tears, her very soul
+seemed fired with emotions she had no power to resist. 'George
+Mullholland!' she exclaimed, throwing her arms about my neck, kissing
+me, and burying her head in my bosom, and giving vent to her feelings in
+tears and quickened sobs--'how I have thought of you, watched for you,
+and hoped for the day when we would meet again and be happy. Oh, George!
+George! how changed everything seems since we parted! It seems a long
+age, and yet our sufferings, and the fondness for each other that was
+created in that suffering, freshens in the mind. Dear, good George--my
+protector!' she continued, clinging to me convulsively. I took her in my
+arms (the scene created no little excitement in the house) and bore her
+away to her chamber, which was chastely furnished, displaying a correct
+taste, and otherwise suited to a princess. Having gained her presence of
+mind, and become calm, she commenced relating what had occurred since we
+parted at Scorpion Cove. I need not relate it at length here, for it was
+similar in character to what might be told by a thousand others if they
+were not powerless. For months she had been confined to the house, her
+love of dress indulged to the furthest extent, her mind polluted and
+initiated into the mysteries of refined licentiousness, her personal
+appearance scrupulously regarded, and made to serve the object of which
+she was a victim in the hands of the hostess, who made her the worse
+than slave to a banker of great respectability in Wall street. This
+good man and father was well down in the vale of years, had a mansion on
+Fifth Avenue, and an interesting and much-beloved family. He was, in
+addition, a prominent member of the commercial community; but his
+example to those more ready to imitate the errors of men in high
+positions, than to improve by the examples of the virtuous poor, was not
+what it should be. Though a child of neglect, and schooled to
+licentiousness under the very eye of a generous community, her natural
+sensibility recoiled at the thought that she was a mere object of prey
+to the passions of one she could not love.
+
+"She resolved to remain in this condition no longer, and escaped to
+Savannah with a young man whose acquaintance she had made at the house
+in Mercer street. For a time they lived at a respectable hotel, as
+husband and wife. But her antecedents got out, and they got notice to
+leave. The same fate met them in Charleston, to which city they removed.
+Her antecedents seemed to follow her wherever she went, like haunting
+spirits seeking her betrayal. She was homeless; and without a home there
+was nothing open to her but that vortex of licentiousness the world
+seemed pointing her to. Back she went to the house in Mercer street--was
+glad to get back; was at least free from the finger of scorn.
+Henceforward she associated with various friends, who sought her because
+of her transcendent charms. She had cultivated a natural intelligence,
+and her manners were such as might have become one in better society.
+But her heart's desire was to leave the house. I took her from it; and
+for a time I was happy to find that the contaminating weeds of vice had
+not overgrown the more sensitive buds of virtue.
+
+"I provided a small tenement in Centre street, such as my means would
+afford, and we started in the world, resolved to live respectably. But
+what had maintained me respectably was now found inadequate to the
+support of us both. Life in a house of sumptuous vice had rendered Anna
+incapable of adapting herself to the extreme of economy now forced upon
+us. Anna was taken sick; I was compelled to neglect my work, and was
+discharged. Discontent, embarrassment, and poverty resulted. I struggled
+to live for six months; but my prospects, my hopes of gaining an honest
+living, were gone. I had no money to join the society, and the trade
+being dull, could get nothing to do. Fate seemed driving us to the last
+stage of distress. One by one our few pieces of furniture, our clothing,
+and the few bits of jewelry Anna had presented her at the house in
+Mercer street, found their way to the sign of the Three Martyrs. The man
+of the eagle face would always lend something on them, and that
+something relieved us for the time. I many times thought, as I passed
+the house of the Foreign Missions in Centre street, where there was such
+an air of comfort, that if Mrs. Abijah Slocum, and the good-natured man
+who sat in the chair, and the wise little man in the spectacles, would
+condescend to look in at our little place, and instead of always talking
+about getting Mr. Singleton Spyke off to Antioch, take pity on our
+destitution, what a relief it would be. It would have made more hearts
+happy than Mr. Spyke, notwithstanding the high end of his mission, could
+have softened in ten years at Antioch.
+
+"Necessity, not inclination, forced Anna back into the house in Mercer
+street, when I became her friend, her transient protector. Her hand was
+as ready to bestow as her heart was warm and generous. She gave me
+money, and was kind to me; but the degraded character of my position
+caused me to despond, to yield myself a victim to insidious vice, to
+become the associate of men whose only occupation was that of gambling
+and 'roping-in' unsuspecting persons. I was not long in becoming an
+efficient in the arts these men practiced on the unwary. We used to meet
+at the 'Subterranean,' in Church street, and there concoct our mode of
+operations. And from this centre went forth, daily, men who lived by
+gambling, larceny, picking pockets, counterfeiting, and passing
+counterfeit money. I kept Anna ignorant of my associations. Nevertheless
+I was forced to get money, for I found her affections becoming
+perverted. At times her manner towards me was cold, and I sought to
+change it with money.
+
+"While thus pursuing a life so precarious and exciting, I used to look
+in at the 'Empire,' in Broadway, to see whom I could 'spot,' as we
+called it at the 'Subterranean.' And it was here I met poor Tom Swiggs,
+distracted and giving himself up to drink, in the fruitless search after
+the girl of his love, from whom he had been separated, as he said, by
+his mother. He had loved the girl, and the girl returned his love with
+all the sincerity and ardor of her soul. But she was poor, and of poor
+parents. And as such people were reckoned nothing in Charleston, his
+mother locked him up in jail, and she was got out of the way. Tom opened
+his heart to me, said foul means had been resorted to, and the girl had
+thrown herself away, because, while he was held in close confinement,
+falsehoods had been used to make her believe he had abandoned her. To
+have her an outcast on his account, to have her leading the life of an
+abandoned woman, and that with the more galling belief that he had
+forsaken her, was more than he could bear, and he was sinking under the
+burden. Instead of making him an object of my criminal profession, his
+story so touched my feelings that I became his protector, saw him to his
+lodgings in Green street, and ultimately got him on board a vessel bound
+to Charleston.
+
+"Not many weeks after this, I, being moneyless, was the principal of a
+plot by which nearly a thousand dollars was got of the old man in Wall
+street, who had been Anna's friend; and fearing it might get out, I
+induced her to accompany me to Charleston, where she believed I had a
+prospect of bettering my condition, quitting my uncertain mode of
+living, and becoming a respectable man. Together we put up at the
+Charleston Hotel. But necessity again forced me to reveal to her my
+circumstances, and the real cause of my leaving New York. Her hopes of
+shaking off the taint of her former life seemed blasted; but she bore
+the shock with resignation, and removed with me to the house of Madame
+Flamingo, where we for a time lived privately. But the Judge sought her
+out, followed her with the zeal of a knight, and promised, if she would
+forsake me, to be her protector; to provide for her and maintain her
+like a lady during her life. What progress he has made in carrying out
+his promise you have seen. The English baronet imposed her upon the St.
+Cecilia, and the Judge was the first to betray her."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+IN WHICH THE READER IS INTRODUCED TO MR. ABSALOM McARTHUR.
+
+
+You must know, reader, that King street is our Boulevard of fashion; and
+though not the handsomest street in the world, nor the widest, nor the
+best paved, nor the most celebrated for fine edifices, we so cherish its
+age and dignity that we would not for the world change its provincial
+name, or molest one of the hundred old tottering buildings that daily
+threaten a dissolution upon its pavement, or permit a wench of doubtful
+blood to show her head on the "north sidewalk" during promenade hours.
+We are, you see, curiously nice in matters of color, and we should be.
+You may not comprehend the necessity for this scrupulous regard to
+caste; others do not, so you are not to blame for your ignorance of the
+customs of an atmosphere you have only breathed through novels written
+by steam. We don't (and you wouldn't) like to have our wives meet our
+slightly-colored mistresses. And we are sure you would not like to have
+your highly-educated and much-admired daughters meet those cream-colored
+material evidences of your folly--called by Northern "fanatics" their
+half-sisters! You would not! And your wives, like sensible women, as our
+wives and daughters are, would, if by accident they did meet them, never
+let you have a bit of sleep until you sent them to old Graspum's
+flesh-market, had them sold, and the money put safely into their hands.
+We do these things just as you would; and our wives being philosophers,
+and very fashionable withal, put the money so got into fine dresses, and
+a few weeks' stay at some very select watering-place in the North. If
+your wife be very accomplished, (like ours,) and your daughters much
+admired for their beauty, (like ours,) they will do as ours did--put
+wisely the cash got for their detestable relatives into a journey of
+inspection over Europe. So, you see, we keep our fashionable side of
+King street; and woe be to the shady mortal that pollutes its bricks!
+
+Mr. Absalom McArthur lives on the unfashionable side of this street, in
+a one-story wooden building, with a cottage roof, covered with thick,
+black moss, and having two great bow windows, and a very lean door,
+painted black, in front. It is a rummy old house to look at, for the
+great bow windows are always ornamented with old hats, which Mr.
+McArthur makes supply the place of glass; and the house itself,
+notwithstanding it keeps up the dignity of a circular window over the
+door, reminds one of that valiant and very notorious characteristic of
+the State, for it has, during the last twenty or more years, threatened
+(but never done it) to tumble upon the unfashionable pavement, just in
+like manner as the State has threatened (but never done it!) to tumble
+itself out of our unfashionable Union. We are a great people, you see;
+but having the impediment of the Union in the way of displaying our
+might, always stand ready to do what we never intended to do. We speak
+in that same good-natured sense and metaphor used by our politicians,
+(who are become very distinguished in the refined arts of fighting and
+whiskey-drinking,) when they call for a rope to put about the neck of
+every man not sufficiently stupid to acknowledge himself a secessionist.
+We imagine ourselves the gigantic and sublime theatre of chivalry, as we
+have a right to do; we raise up heroes of war and statesmanship,
+compared with whom your Napoleons, Mirabeaus, and Marats--yes, even your
+much-abused Roman orators and Athenian philosophers, sink into mere
+insignificance. Nor are we bad imitators of that art displayed by the
+Roman soldiers, when they entered the Forum and drenched it with
+Senatorial blood! Pardon this digression, reader.
+
+Of a summer morning you will see McArthur, the old Provincialist, as he
+is called, arranging in his great bow windows an innumerable variety of
+antique relics, none but a Mrs. Toodles could conceive a want for--such
+as broken pots, dog-irons, fenders, saws, toasters, stew-pans, old
+muskets, boxing-gloves and foils, and sundry other odds and ends too
+numerous to mention. At evening he sits in his door, a clever picture of
+a by-gone age, on a venerable old sofa, supported on legs tapering into
+feet of lion's paws, and carved in mahogany, all tacked over with
+brass-headed nails. Here the old man sits, and sits, and sits, reading
+the "Heroes of the Revolution," (the only book he ever reads,) and
+seemingly ready at all times to serve the "good wishes" of his
+customers, who he will tell you are of the very first families, and very
+distinguished! He holds distinguished peoples in high esteem; and
+several distinguished persons have no very bad opinion of him, but a
+much better one of his very interesting daughter, whose acquaintance
+(though not a lady, in the Southern acceptation of the term) they would
+not object to making--provided!
+
+His little shop is lumbered with boxes and barrels, all containing
+relics of a by-gone age--such as broken swords, pistols of curious make,
+revolutionary hand-saws, planes, cuirasses, broken spurs, blunderbusses,
+bowie, scalping, and hunting-knives; all of which he declares our great
+men have a use for. Hung on a little post, and over a pair of rather
+suspicious-looking buckskin breeches, is a rusty helmet, which he
+sincerely believes was worn by a knight of the days of William the
+Conqueror. A little counter to the left staggers under a pile of musty
+old books and mustier papers, all containing valuable matter relating to
+the old Continentals, who, as he has it, were all Carolinians. (Dispute
+this, and he will go right into a passion.) Resting like good-natured
+policemen against this weary old counter are two sympathetic old
+coffins, several second-hand crutches, and a quantity of much-neglected
+wooden legs. These Mr. McArthur says are in great demand with our first
+families. No one, except Mr. Soloman Snivel, knows better what the
+chivalry stand in need of to prop up its declining dignity. His dirty
+little shelves, too, are stuffed with those cheap uniforms the State so
+grudgingly voted its unwilling volunteers during the Revolution.[1]
+Tucked in here and there, at sixes and sevens, are the scarlet and blue
+of several suits of cast-off theatrical wardrobe he got of Abbott, and
+now loans for a small trifle to Madame Flamingo and the St. Cecilia
+Society--the first, when she gives her very seductive _balmasques_; the
+second, when distinguished foreigners with titles honor its costume
+balls. As for Revolutionary cocked hats, epaulettes, plumes, and
+holsters, he has enough to supply and send off, feeling as proud as
+peacocks, every General and Colonel in the State--and their name, as
+you ought to know, reader, is legion.
+
+[Footnote 1: See Senator Sumner's speech in Congress on Plantation
+manners.]
+
+The stranger might, indeed, be deceived into the belief that Absalom
+McArthur's curiosity shop was capable of furnishing accoutrements for
+that noble little army, (standing army we call it!) on which the State
+prides itself not a little, and spends no end of money. For ourselves,
+(if the reader but permit us,) we have long admired this little Spartan
+force, saying all the good things of it our prosy brain could invent,
+and in the kindest manner recommending its uniform good character as a
+model for our very respectable society to fashion after. Indeed, we
+have, in the very best nature of a modern historian, endeavored to
+enlighten the barbarian world outside of South Carolina as to the
+terrible consequences which might accrue to the Union did this noble
+little army assume any other than a standing character. Now that General
+Jackson is out of the way, and our plebeian friends over the Savannah,
+whom we hold in high esteem, (the Georgians,) kindly consent to let us
+go our own road out of the Union, nothing can be more grateful than to
+find our wise politicians sincerely believing that when this standing
+army, of which other States know so little, shall have become allied
+with those mighty men of Beaufort, dire consequences to this young but
+very respectable Federal compact will be the result. Having discharged
+the duties of a historian, for the benefit of those benighted beings
+unfortunate enough to live out of our small but highly-civilized State,
+we must return to McArthur.
+
+He is a little old-maidish about his age, which for the last twenty
+years has not got a day more than fifty-four. Being as sensitive of his
+veracity as the State is of its dignity, we would not, either by
+implication or otherwise, lay an impeachment at his door, but rather
+charge the discrepancy to that sin (a treacherous memory) the legal
+gentry find so convenient for their purposes when they knock down their
+own positions. McArthur stood five feet eight exactly, when young, but
+age has made him lean of person, and somewhat bent. His face is long and
+corrugated; his expression of countenance singularly serious. A nose,
+neither aquiline nor Grecian, but large enough, and long enough, and red
+enough at the end, to make both; a sharp and curiously-projecting chin,
+that threatens a meeting, at no very distant day, with his nasal organ;
+two small, watchful blue eyes deep-set under narrow arches, fringed with
+long gray lashes; a deeply-furrowed, but straight and contracted
+forehead, and a shaggy red wig, poised upon the crown of his head, and,
+reader, if you except the constant working of a heavy, drooping lower
+lip, and the diagonal sight with which his eyes are favored, you have
+his most prominent features. Fashion he holds in utter contempt, nor has
+he the very best opinion in the world of our fashionable tailors, who
+are grown so rich that they hold mortgages on the very best plantations
+in the State, and offer themselves candidates for the Governorship.
+Indeed, Mr. McArthur says, one of these knights of the goose, not long
+since, had the pertinacity to imagine himself a great General. And to
+show his tenacious adherence to the examples set by the State, he
+dresses exactly as his grandfather's great-grandfather used to, in a
+blue coat, with small brass buttons, a narrow crimpy collar, and tails
+long enough and sharp enough for a clipper-ship's run. The periods when
+he provided himself with new suits are so far apart that they formed
+special episodes in his history; nevertheless there is always an air of
+neatness about him, and he will spend much time arranging a dingy
+ruffled shirt, a pair of gray trowsers, a black velvet waistcoat, cut in
+the Elizabethan style, and a high, square shirt collar, into which his
+head has the appearance of being jammed. This collar he ties with a
+much-valued red and yellow Spittlefields, the ends of which flow over
+his ruffle. Although the old man would not bring much at the
+man-shambles, we set a great deal of store by him, and would not
+exchange him for anything in the world but a regiment or two of heroic
+secessionists. Indeed we are fully aware that nothing like him exists
+beyond the highly perfumed atmosphere of our State. And to many other
+curious accomplishments the old man adds that of telling fortunes. The
+negroes seriously believe he has a private arrangement with the devil,
+of whom he gets his wisdom, and the secret of propitiating the gods.
+
+Two days have passed since the _emeute_ at the house of the old hostess.
+McArthur has promised the young missionary a place for Tom Swiggs, when
+he gets out of prison (but no one but his mother seems to have a right
+to let him out), and the tall figure of Mister Snivel is seen entering
+the little curiosity shop. "I say!--my old hero, has she been here yet?"
+inquires Mr. Snivel, the accommodation man. "Nay, good friend," returns
+the old man, rising from his sofa, and returning the salutation, "she
+has not yet darkened the door." The old man draws the steel-bowed
+spectacles from his face, and watches with a patriarchal air any change
+that comes over the accommodation man's countenance. "Now, good friend,
+if I did but know the plot," pursues the old man.
+
+"The plot you are not to know! I gave you her history yesterday--that
+is, as far as I know it. You must make up the rest. You know how to tell
+fortunes, old boy. I need not instruct you. Mind you flatter her beauty,
+though--extend on the kindness of the Judge, and be sure you get it in
+that it was me who betrayed her at the St. Cecelia. All right old boy,
+eh?" and shaking McArthur by the hand warmly, he takes his departure,
+bowing himself into the street. The old man says he will be all ready
+when she comes.
+
+Scarcely has the accommodation man passed out of sight when a
+sallow-faced stripling makes his appearance, and with that
+characteristic effrontery for borrowing and never returning, of the
+property-man of a country theatre, "desires" to know if Mr. McArthur
+will lend him a skull.
+
+"A skull!" ejaculates the old man, his bony fingers wandering to his
+melancholy lip--"a skull!" and he fusses studiously round the little
+cell-like place, looking distrustfully at the property-man, and then
+turning an anxious eye towards his piles of rubbish, as if fearing some
+plot is on foot to remove them to the infernal regions.
+
+"You see," interrupts Mr. Property, "we play Hamlet to-night--expect a
+crammed house--and our star, being scrupulous of his reputation, as all
+small stars are, won't go on for the scene of the grave-digger, without
+two skulls--he swears he won't! He raised the very roof of the theatre
+this morning, because his name wasn't in bigger type on the bill. And if
+we don't give him two skulls and plenty of bones to-night, he
+swears--and such swearing as it is!--he'll forfeit the manager, have the
+house closed, and come out with a card to the public in the morning. We
+are in a fix, you see! The janitor only has one, and he lent us that as
+if he didn't want to."
+
+Mr. McArthur says he sees, and with an air of regained wisdom stops
+suddenly, and takes from a shelf a dingy old board, on which is a
+dingier paper, bearing curious inscriptions, no one but the old man
+himself would have supposed to be a schedule of stock in trade. Such it
+is, nevertheless. He rubs his spectacles, places them methodically upon
+his face, wipes and wipes the old board with his elbow. "It's here if
+it's anywhere!" says the old man, with a sigh. "It comes into my head
+that among the rest of my valuables I've Yorick's skull."
+
+"The very skull we want!" interrupts Property. And the old man quickens
+the working of his lower jaw, and continues to rub at the board until he
+has brought out the written mystery. "My ancestors were great people,"
+he mumbles to himself, "great people!" He runs the crusty forefinger of
+his right hand up and down the board, adding, "and my customers are all
+of the first families, which is some consolation in one's poverty. Ah! I
+have it here!" he exclaims, with childlike exultation, frisking his
+fingers over the board. "One Yorick's skull--a time-worn, tenantless,
+and valuable relic, in which graveyard worms have banqueted more than
+once. Yes, young man, presented to my ancestors by the elder Stuarts,
+and on that account worth seven skulls, or more." "One Yorick's skull,"
+is written on the paper, upon which the old man presses firmly his
+finger. Then turning to an old box standing in the little fireplace
+behind the counter, saying, "it's in here--as my name's Absalom
+McArthur, it is," he opens the lid, and draws forth several old military
+coats (they have seen revolutionary days! he says, exultingly), numerous
+scales of brass, such as are worn on British soldiers' hats, a ponderous
+chapeau and epaulets, worn, he insists, by Lord Nelson at the renowned
+battle of Trafalgar. He has not opened, he adds, this box for more than
+twelve long years. Next he drags forth a military cloak of great weight
+and dimensions. "Ah!" he exclaims, with nervous joy, "here's the
+identical cloak worn by Lord Cornwallis--how my ancestors used to prize
+it." And as he unrolls its great folds there falls upon the floor, to
+his great surprise, an old buff-colored silk dress, tied firmly with a
+narrow, green ribbon. "Maria! Maria! Maria!" shouts the old man, as if
+suddenly seized with a spasm. And his little gray eyes flash with
+excitement, as he says--"if here hasn't come to light at last, poor Mag
+Munday's dress. God forgive the poor wretch, she's dead and gone, no
+doubt." In response to the name of "Maria" there protrudes from a little
+door that opens into a passage leading to a back-room, the delicate
+figure of a female, with a face of great paleness, overcast by a
+thoughtful expression. She has a finely-developed head, intelligent blue
+eyes, light auburn hair, and features more interesting than regular.
+Indeed, there is more to admire in the peculiar modesty of her demeanor
+than in the regularity of her features, as we shall show. "My daughter!"
+says the old man, as she nervously advances, her pale hand extended.
+"Poor woman! how she would mourn about this old dress; and say it
+contained something that might give her a chance in the world," she
+rather whispers than speaks, disclosing two rows of small white teeth.
+She takes from the old man's hand the package, and disappears. The
+anxiety she evinces over the charge discloses the fact that there is
+something of deep interest connected with it.
+
+Mr. McArthur was about to relate how he came by this seemingly
+worthless old package, when the property-man, becoming somewhat
+restless, and not holding in over high respect the old man's rubbish, as
+he called it in his thoughts, commences drawing forth, piece after piece
+of the old relics. The old man will not allow this. "There, young man!"
+he says, touching him on the elbow, and resuming his labor. At length he
+draws forth the dust-tenanted skull, coated on the outer surface with
+greasy mould. "There!" he says, with an unrestrained exclamation of joy,
+holding up the wasting bone, "this was in its time poor Yorick's skull.
+It was such a skull, when Yorick lived! Beneath this filthy remnant of
+past greatness (I always think of greatness when I turn to the past),
+this empty tenement, once the domain of wisdom, this poor bone, what
+thoughts did not come out?" And the old man shakes his head, mutters
+inarticulately, and weeps with the simplicity of a child.
+
+"The Star'll have skulls and bones enough to make up for his want of
+talent now--I reckon," interposes the property-man. "But!--I say,
+mister, this skull couldn't a bin old Yorick's, you know--"
+
+"Yorick's!--why not?" interrupts the old man.
+
+"Because Yorick--Yorick was the King's jester, you see--no nigger; and
+no one would think of importing anything but a nigger's skull into
+Charleston--"
+
+"Young man!--if this skull had consciousness; if this had a tongue it
+would rebuke thee;" the old man retorts hastily, "for my ancestors knew
+Yorick, and Yorick kept up an intimate acquaintance with the ancestors
+of the very first families in this State, who were not shoemakers and
+milliners, as hath been maliciously charged, but good and pious
+Huguenots." To the end that he may convince the unbelieving Thespian of
+the truth of his assertion, he commences to rub away the black coating
+with the sleeve of his coat, and there, to his infinite delight, is
+written, across the crown, in letters of red that stand out as bold as
+the State's chivalry--"Alas! poor Yorick." Tears of sympathy trickle
+down the old man's cheeks, his eyes sparkle with excitement, and with
+womanly accents he mutters: "the days of poetry and chivalry are gone.
+It is but a space of time since this good man's wit made Kings and
+Princes laugh with joy."
+
+This skull, and a coral pin, which he said was presented to his
+ancestors by Lord Cornwallis, who they captured, now became his hobby;
+and he referred to it in all his conversation, and made them as much his
+idol as our politicians do secession. In this instance, he dare not
+entrust his newly-discovered jewel to the vulgar hands of Mr. Property,
+but pledged his honor--a ware the State deals largely in notwithstanding
+it has become exceedingly cheap--it would be forthcoming at the
+requisite time.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+IN WHICH ARE MATTERS THE READER MAY HAVE ANTICIPATED.
+
+
+Mr. Soloman Snivel has effected a reconciliation between old Judge
+Sleepyhorn and the beautiful Anna Bonard, and he has flattered the
+weak-minded George Mullholland into a belief that the old Judge, as he
+styles him, is his very best friend. So matters go on swimmingly at the
+house of Madame Flamingo. Indeed Mr. Soloman can make himself extremely
+useful in any affair requiring the exercise of nice diplomatic skill--no
+matter whether it be of love or law. He gets people into debt, and out
+of debt; into bankruptcy and out of bankruptcy; into jail and out of
+jail; into society and out of society. He has officiated in almost every
+capacity but that of a sexton. If you want money, Mr. Soloman can always
+arrange the little matter for you. If you have old negroes you want to
+get off your hands at a low figure, he has a customer. If you want to
+mortgage your negro property, a thing not uncommon with our very first
+families, Mr. Soloman is your man. Are you worth a fee, and want legal
+advice, he will give it exactly to your liking. Indeed, he will lie you
+into the most hopeless suit, and with equal pertinacity lie you out of
+the very best. Every judge is his friend and most intimate acquaintance.
+He is always rollicking, frisking, and insinuating himself into
+something, affects to be the most liberal sort of a companion, never
+refuses to drink when invited, but never invites any one unless he has a
+motive beyond friendship. Mr. Keepum, the wealthy lottery broker, who
+lives over the way, in Broad street, in the house with the mysterious
+signs, is his money-man. This Keepum, the man with the sharp visage and
+guilty countenance, has an excellent standing in society, having got it
+as the reward of killing two men. Neither of these deeds of heroism,
+however, were the result of a duel. Between these worthies there exists
+relations mutually profitable, if not the most honorable. And
+notwithstanding Mr. Soloman is forever sounding Mr. Keepum's generosity,
+the said Keepum has a singular faculty for holding with a firm grasp all
+he gets, the extent of his charities being a small mite now and then to
+Mr. Hadger, the very pious agent for the New York Presbyterian Tract
+Society. Mr. Hadger, who by trading in things called negroes, and such
+like wares, has become a man of great means, twice every year badgers
+the community in behalf of this society, and chuckles over what he gets
+of Keepum, as if a knave's money was a sure panacea for the cure of
+souls saved through the medium of those highly respectable tracts the
+society publishes to suit the tastes of the god slavery. Mr. Keepum,
+too, has a very high opinion of this excellent society, as he calls it,
+and never fails to boast of his contributions.
+
+It is night. The serene and bright sky is hung with brighter stars. Our
+little fashionable world has got itself arrayed in its best satin--and
+is in a flutter. Carriages, with servants in snobby coats, beset the
+doors of the theatre. A flashing of silks, satins, brocades, tulle and
+jewelry, distinguished the throng pressing eagerly into the lobbies,
+and seeking with more confusion than grace seats in the dress circle.
+The orchestra has played an overture, and the house presents a lively
+picture of bright-colored robes. Mr. Snivel's handsome figure is seen
+looming out of a private box in the left-hand proceniums, behind the
+curtain of which, and on the opposite side, a mysterious hand every now
+and then frisks, makes a small but prudent opening, and disappears.
+Again it appears, with delicate and chastely-jeweled fingers. Cautiously
+the red curtain moves aside apace, and the dark languishing eyes of a
+female, scanning over the dress-circle, are revealed. She recognizes the
+venerable figure of Judge Sleepyhorn, who has made a companion of George
+Mullholland, and sits at his side in the parquette. Timidly she closes
+the curtain.
+
+In the right-hand procenium box sits, resplendent of jewels and laces,
+and surrounded by her many admirers, the beautiful and very fashionable
+Madame Montford, a woman of singularly regular features, and more than
+ordinary charms. Opinion is somewhat divided on the early history of
+Madame Montford. Some have it one thing, some another. Society is sure
+to slander a woman of transcendent beauty and intellect. There is
+nothing in the world more natural, especially when those charms attract
+fashionable admirers. It is equally true, too, that if you would wipe
+out any little taint that may hang about the skirts of your character
+you must seek the panacea in a distant State, where, with the
+application of a little diplomacy you may become the much sought for
+wonder of a new atmosphere and new friends, as is the case with Madame
+Montford, who rebukes her New York neighbors of the Fifth Avenue (she
+has a princely mansion there), with the fact that in Charleston she is,
+whenever she visits it, the all-absorbing topic with fashionable
+society. For four successive winters Madame Montford has honored the
+elite of Charleston with her presence. The advent of her coming, too,
+has been duly heralded in the morning papers--to the infinite delight of
+the St. Cecilia Society, which never fails to distinguish her arrival
+with a ball. And this ball is sure to be preceded with no end of
+delicately-perfumed cards, and other missives, as full of compliments as
+it is capable of cramming them. There is, notwithstanding all these
+ovations in honor of her coming, a mystery hanging over her periodical
+visits, for the sharp-eyed persist that they have seen her disguised,
+and in suspicious places, making singular inquiries about a woman of the
+name of Mag Munday. And these suspicions have given rise to whisperings,
+and these whisperings have crept into the ears of several very old and
+highly-respectable "first families," which said families have suddenly
+dropped her acquaintance. But what is more noticeable in the features of
+Madame Montford, is the striking similarity between them and Anna
+Bonard's. Her most fervent admirers have noticed it; while strangers
+have not failed to discover it, and to comment upon it. And the girl who
+sits in the box with Mr. Snivel, so cautiously fortifying herself with
+the curtain, is none other than Anna. Mr. Snivel has brought her here as
+an atonement for past injuries.
+
+Just as the curtain is about to rise, Mr. McArthur, true to his word,
+may be seen toddling to the stage door, his treasure carefully tied up
+in a handkerchief. He will deliver it to no one but the manager, and in
+spite of his other duties that functionary is compelled to receive it in
+person. This done, the old man, to the merriment of certain wags who
+delight to speculate on his childlike credulity, takes a seat in the
+parquette, wipes clean his venerable spectacles, and placing them
+methodically over his eyes, forms a unique picture in the foreground of
+the audience. McArthur, with the aid of his glasses, can recognize
+objects at a distance; and as the Hamlet of the night is decidedly
+Teutonic in his appearance and pronunciation, he has no great relish for
+the Star, nor a hand of applause to bestow on his genius. Hamlet, he is
+sure, never articulated with a coarse brogue. So turning from the stage,
+he amuses himself with minutely scanning the faces of the audience, and
+resolving in his mind that something will turn up in the grave-digger's
+scene, of which he is an enthusiastic admirer. It is, indeed, he thinks
+to himself, very doubtful, whether in this wide world the much-abused
+William Shakspeare hath a more ardent admirer of this curious but
+faithful illustration of his genius. Suddenly his attention seems
+riveted on the private box, in which sits the stately figure of Madame
+Montford, flanked in a half-circle by her perfumed and white-gloved
+admirers. "What!" exclaims the old man, in surprise, rubbing and
+replacing his glasses, "if I'm not deceived! Well--I can't be. If there
+isn't the very woman, a little altered, who has several times looked
+into my little place of an evening. Her questions were so curious that I
+couldn't make out what she really wanted (she never bought anything);
+but she always ended with inquiring about poor Mag Munday. People think
+because I have all sorts of things, that I must know about all sorts of
+things. I never could tell her much that satisfied her, for Mag, report
+had it, was carried off by the yellow fever, and nobody ever thought of
+her afterwards. And because I couldn't tell this woman any more, she
+would go away with tears in her eyes." Mr. McArthur whispers to a friend
+on his right, and touches him on the arm, "Pooh! pooh!" returns the man,
+with measured indifference, "that's the reigning belle of the
+season--Madame Montford, the buxom widow, who has been just turned forty
+for some years."
+
+The play proceeds, and soon the old man's attention is drawn from the
+Widow Montford by the near approach to the scene of the grave-digger.
+And as that delineator enters the grave, and commences his tune, the old
+man's anxiety increases.
+
+A twitching and shrugging of the shoulders, discovers Mr. McArthur's
+feelings. The grave-digger, to the great delight of the Star, bespreads
+the stage with a multiplicity of bones. Then he follows them with a
+skull, the appearance of which causes Mr. McArthur to exclaim, "Ah!
+that's my poor Yorick." He rises from his seat, and abstractedly stares
+at the Star, then at the audience. The audience gives out a spontaneous
+burst of applause, which the Teutonic Hamlet is inclined to regard as an
+indignity offered to superior talent. A short pause and his face
+brightens with a smile, the grave-digger shoulders his pick, and with
+the thumb of his right hand to his nasal organ, throws himself into a
+comical attitude. The audience roar with delight; the Star, ignorant of
+the cause of what he esteems a continued insult, waves his plumes to the
+audience, and with an air of contempt walks off the stage.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+MRS. SWIGGS COMES TO THE RESCUE OF THE HOUSE OF THE FOREIGN MISSIONS.
+
+
+"An excellent society--excellent, I assure you, Madame--"
+
+"Truly, Mr. Hadger," interrupted Mrs. Swiggs, "your labors on behalf of
+this Tract Society will be rewarded in heaven--"
+
+"Dear-a-me," Mr. Hadger returns, ere Mrs. Swiggs can finish her
+sentence, "don't mention such a thing. I assure you it is a labor of
+love."
+
+"Their tracts are so carefully got up. If my poor old negro property
+could only read--(Mrs. Swiggs pauses.) I was going to say--if it wasn't
+for the law (again she pauses), we couldn't prejudice our cause by
+letting our negroes read them--"
+
+"Excuse the interruption," Mr. Hadger says, "but it wouldn't, do,
+notwithstanding (no one can be more liberal than myself on the subject
+of enlightening our negro property!) the Tract Society exhibits such an
+unexceptionable regard to the requirements of our cherished
+institution."
+
+This conversation passes between Mrs. Swiggs and Mr. Hadger, who, as he
+says with great urbanity of manner, just dropped in to announce joyous
+tidings. He has a letter from Sister Abijah Slocum, which came to hand
+this morning, enclosing one delicately enveloped for Sister Swiggs.
+"The Lord is our guide," says Mrs. Swiggs, hastily reaching out her hand
+and receiving the letter. "Heaven will reward her for the interest she
+takes in the heathen world."
+
+"Truly, if she hath not now, she will have there a monument of gold,"
+Mr. Hadger piously pursues, adding a sigh.
+
+"There! there!--my neuralgy; it's all down my left side. I'm not long
+for this world, you see!" Mrs. Swiggs breaks out suddenly, then twitches
+her head and oscillates her chin. And as if some electric current had
+changed the train of her thoughts, she testily seizes hold of her
+Milton, and says: "I have got my Tom up again--yes I have, Mr. Hadger."
+
+Mr. Hadger discovers the sudden flight her thoughts have taken: "I am
+sure," he interposes, "that so long as Sister Slocum remains a member of
+the Tract Society we may continue our patronage."
+
+Mrs. Swiggs is pleased to remind Mr. Hadger, that although her means
+have been exceedingly narrowed down, she has not, for the last ten
+years, failed to give her mite, which she divides between the house of
+the "Foreign Missions," and the "Tract Society."
+
+A nice, smooth-faced man, somewhat clerically dressed, straight and
+portly of person, and most unexceptionable in his morals, is Mr. Hadger.
+A smile of Christian resignation and brotherly love happily ornaments
+his countenance; and then, there is something venerable about his
+nicely-combed gray whiskers, his white cravat, his snowy hair, his mild
+brown eyes, and his pleasing voice. One is almost constrained to receive
+him as the ideal of virtue absolved in sackcloth and ashes. As an
+evidence of our generosity, we regard him an excellent Christian, whose
+life hath been purified with an immense traffic in human----(perhaps
+some good friend will crack our skull for saying it).
+
+In truth (though we never could find a solution in the Bible for it), as
+the traffic in human property increased Mr. Hadger's riches, so also did
+it in a corresponding ratio increase his piety. There is, indeed, a
+singular connection existing between piety and slavery; but to analyze
+it properly requires the mind of a philosopher, so strange is the
+blending.
+
+Brother Hadger takes a sup of ice-water, and commences reading Sister
+Slocum's letter, which runs thus:
+
+   "NEW YORK, May --, 1850.
+"DEAR BROTHER HADGER:
+
+"Justice and Mercy is the motto of the cause we have lent our hands and
+hearts to promote. Only yesterday we had a gathering of kind spirits at
+the Mission House in Centre street, where, thank God, all was peace and
+love. We had, too, an anxious gathering at the 'Tract Society's rooms.'
+There it was not so much peace and love as could have been desired.
+Brother Bight seemed earnest, but said many unwise things; and Brother
+Scratch let out some very unwise indiscretions which you will find in
+the reports I send. There was some excitement, and something said about
+what we got from the South not being of God's chosen earnings. And there
+was something more let off by our indiscreet Brothers against the
+getting up of the tracts. But we had a majority, and voted down our
+indiscreet Brothers, inasmuch as it was shown to be necessary not to
+offend our good friends in the South. Not to give offence to a Brother
+is good in the sight of the Lord, and this Brother Primrose argued in a
+most Christian speech of four long hours or more, and which had the
+effect of convincing every one how necessary it was to free the _tracts_
+of everything offensive to your cherished institution. And though we did
+not, Brother Hadger, break up in the continuance of that love we were
+wont to when you were among us, we sustained the principle that seemeth
+most acceptable to you--we gained the victory over our disaffected
+Brothers. And I am desired on behalf of the Society, to thank you for
+the handsome remittance, hoping you will make it known, through peace
+and love, to those who kindly contributed toward it. The Board of
+'Foreign Missions,' as you will see by the report, also passed a vote of
+thanks for your favor. How grateful to think what one will do to
+enlighten the heathen world, and how many will receive a tract through
+the medium of the other.
+
+"We are now in want of a few thousand dollars, to get the Rev. Singleton
+Spyke, a most excellent person, off to Antioch. Aid us with a mite,
+Brother Hadger, for his mission is one of God's own. The enclosed letter
+is an appeal to Sister Swiggs, whose yearly mites have gone far, very
+far, to aid us in the good but mighty work now to be done. Sister Swiggs
+will have her reward in heaven for these her good gifts. How thankful
+should she be to Him who provides all things, and thus enableth her to
+bestow liberally.
+
+"And now, Brother, I must say adieu! May you continue to live in the
+spirit of Christian love. And may you never feel the want of these mites
+bestowed in the cause of the poor heathen.
+
+   "SISTER ABIJAH SLOCUM."
+
+"May the good be comforted!" ejaculates Mrs. Swiggs, as Mr. Hadger
+concludes. She has listened with absorbed attention to every word, at
+times bowing, and adding a word of approval. Mr. Hadger hopes something
+may be done in this good cause, and having interchanged sundry
+compliments, takes his departure, old Rebecca opening the door.
+
+"Glad he's gone!" the old lady says to herself. "I am so anxious to hear
+the good tidings Sister Slocum's letter conveys." She wipes and wipes
+her venerable spectacles, adjusts them piquantly over her small, wicked
+eyes, gives her elaborate cap-border a twitch forward, frets her finger
+nervously over the letter, and gets herself into a general state of
+confritteration. "There!" she says, entirely forgetting her Milton,
+which has fallen on the floor, to the great satisfaction of the worthy
+old cat, who makes manifest his regard for it by coiling himself down
+beside it, "God bless her. It makes my heart leap with joy when I see
+her writing," she pursues, as old Rebecca stands contemplating her, with
+serious and sullen countenance. Having prilled and fussed over the
+letter, she commences reading in a half whisper:
+
+   "NO. --,4TH AVENUE, NEW YORK,
+   May --, 1850.
+
+"MUCH BELOVED SISTER:
+
+"I am, as you know, always overwhelmed with business; and having hoped
+the Lord in his goodness yet spares you to us, and gives you health and
+bounty wherewith to do good, must be pardoned for my brevity. The Lord
+prospers our missions among the heathen, and the Tract Society continues
+to make its labors known throughout the country. It, as you will see by
+the tracts I send herewith, still continues that scrupulous regard to
+the character of your domestic institution which has hitherto
+characterized it. Nothing is permitted to creep into them that in any
+way relates to your domestics, or that can give pain to the delicate
+sensibilities of your very excellent and generous people. We would do
+good to all without giving pain to any one. Oh! Sister, you know what a
+wicked world this is, and how it becomes us to labor for the good of
+others. But what is this world compared with the darkness of the heathen
+world, and those poor wretches ('Sure enough!' says Mrs. Swiggs) who eat
+one another, never have heard of a God, and prefer rather to worship
+idols of wood and stone. When I contemplate this dreadful darkness,
+which I do night and day, day and night, I invoke the Spirit to give me
+renewed strength to go forward in the good work of bringing from
+darkness ('Just as I feel,' thinks Mrs. Swiggs) unto light those poor
+benighted wretches of the heathen world. How often I have wished you
+could be here with us, to add life and spirit to our cause--to aid us in
+beating down Satan, and when we have got him down not to let him up. The
+heathen world never will be what it should be until Satan is bankrupt,
+deprived of his arts, and chained to the post of humiliation--never! ('I
+wish I had him where my Tom is!' Mrs. Swiggs mutters to herself.) Do
+come on here, Sister. We will give you an excellent reception, and make
+you so happy while you sojourn among us. And now, Sister, having never
+appealed to you in vain, we again extend our hand, hoping you will favor
+the several very excellent projects we now have on hand. First, we have
+a project--a very excellent one, on hand, for evangelizing the world;
+second, in consideration of what has been done in the reign of the
+Seven Churches--Pergamos Thyatira, Magnesia, Cassaba, Demish, and
+Baindir, where all is darkness, we have conceived a mission to Antioch;
+and third, we have been earnestly engaged in, and have spent a few
+thousand dollars over a project of the 'Tract Society,' which is the
+getting up of no less than one or two million of their excellent tracts,
+for the Dahomy field of missionary labor--such as the Egba mission, the
+Yoruba mission, and the Ijebu missions. Oh! Sister, what a field of
+labor is here open to us. And what a source of joy and thankfulness it
+should be to us that we have the means to labor in those fields of
+darkness. We have selected brother Singleton Spyke, a young man of great
+promise, for this all-important mission to Antioch. He has been for the
+last four years growing in grace and wisdom. No expense has been spared
+in everything necessary to his perfection, not even in the selection of
+a partner suited to his prospects and future happiness. We now want a
+few thousand dollars to make up the sum requisite to his mission, and
+pay the expenses of getting him off. Come to our assistance, dear
+Sister--do come! Share with us your mite in this great work of
+enlightening the heathen, and know that your deeds are recorded in
+heaven. ('Verily!' says the old lady.) And now, hoping the Giver of all
+good will continue to favor you with His blessing, and preserve you in
+that strength of intellect with which you have so often assisted us in
+beating down Satan, and hoping either to have the pleasure of seeing
+you, or hearing from you soon, I will say adieu! subscribing myself a
+servant in the cause of the heathen, and your sincere Sister,
+
+   "MRS. ABIJAH SLOCUM.
+
+"P.S.--Remember, dear Sister, that the amount of money expended in
+idol-worship--in erecting monster temples and keeping them in repair,
+would provide comfortable homes and missions for hundreds of our very
+excellent young men and women, who are now ready to buckle on the armor
+and enter the fight against Satan.
+
+   "A.S."
+
+"Dear-a-me," she sighs, laying the letter upon the table, kicking the
+cat as she resumes her rocking, and with her right hand restoring her
+Milton to its accustomed place on the table. "Rebecca," she says, "will
+get a pillow and place it nicely at my back." Rebecca, the old slave,
+brings the pillow. "There, there! now, not too high, nor too low,
+Rebecca!" her thin, sharp voice echoes, as she works her shoulders, and
+permits her long fingers to wander over her cap-border. "When 'um got
+just so missus like, say--da he is!" mumbles the old negress in reply.
+"Well, well--a little that side, now--" The negress moves the pillow a
+little to the left. "That's too much, Rebecca--a slight touch the other
+way. You are so stupid, I will have to sell you, and get Jewel to take
+care of me. I would have done it before but for the noise of her
+crutch--I would, Rebecca! You never think of me--you only think of how
+much hominy you can eat." The old negress makes a motion to move the
+pillow a little to the right, when Mrs. Swiggs settles her head and
+shoulders into it, saying, "there!"
+
+"Glad'um suit--fo'h true!" retorts the negress, her heavy lips and
+sullen face giving out the very incarnation of hatred.
+
+"Now don't make a noise when you go out." Rebecca in reply says she is
+"gwine down to da kitchen to see Isaac," and toddles out of the room,
+gently closing the door after her.
+
+Resignedly Mrs. Swiggs closes her eyes, moderates her rocking, and
+commences evolving and revolving the subject over in her mind. "I
+haven't much of this world's goods--no, I haven't; but I'm of a good
+family, and its name for hospitality must be kept up. Don't see that I
+can keep it up better than by helping Sister Slocum and the _Tract
+Society_ out," she muses. But the exact way to effect this has not yet
+come clear to her mind. Times are rather hard, and, as we have said
+before, she is in straightened circumstances, having, for something more
+than ten years, had nothing but the earnings of eleven old negroes, five
+of whom are cripples, to keep up the dignity of the house of the Swiggs.
+"There's old Zeff," she says, "has took to drinking, and Flame, his
+wife, ain't a bit better; and neither one of them have been worth
+anything since I sold their two children--which I had to do, or let the
+dignity of the family suffer. I don't like to do it, but I must. I must
+send Zeff to the workhouse--have him nicely whipped, I only charge him
+eighteen dollars a month for himself, and yet he will drink, and won't
+pay over his wages. Yes!--he shall have it. The extent of the law, well
+laid on, will learn him a lesson. There's old Cato pays me twenty
+dollars a month, and Cato's seventy-four--four years older than Zeff. In
+truth, my negro property is all getting careless about paying wages. Old
+Trot runs away whenever he can get a chance; Brutus has forever got
+something the matter with him; and Cicero has come to be a real skulk.
+He don't care for the cowhide; the more I get him flogged the worse he
+gets. Curious creature! And his old woman, since she broke her leg, and
+goes with a crutch, thinks she can do just as she pleases. There is
+plenty of work in her--plenty; she has no disposition to let it come
+out, though! And she has kept up a grumbling ever since I sold her
+girls. Well, I didn't want to keep them all the time at the
+whipping-post; so I sold them to save their characters." Thus Mrs.
+Swiggs muses until she drops into a profound sleep, in which she
+remains, dreaming that she has sold old Mumma Molly, Cicero's wife, and
+with the proceeds finds herself in New York, hob-nobbing it with Sister
+Slocum, and making one extensive donation to the Tract Society, and
+another to the fund for getting Brother Singleton Spyke off to Antioch.
+Her arrival in Gotham, she dreams, is a great event. The Tract Society
+(she is its guest) is smothering her with its attentions. Indeed, a
+whole column and a half of the very conservative and highly respectable
+old _Observer_ is taken up with an elaborate and well-written history of
+her many virtues.
+
+The venerable old lady dreams herself into dusky evening, and wakes to
+find old Rebecca summoning her to tea. She is exceedingly sorry the old
+slave disturbed her. However, having great faith in dreams, and the one
+she has just enjoyed bringing the way to aid Sister Slocum in carrying
+out her projects of love so clear to her mind, she is resolved to lose
+no time in carrying out its principles. Selling old Molly won't be much;
+old Molly is not worth much to her; and the price of old Molly (she'll
+bring something!) will do so much to enlighten the heathen, and aid the
+Tract Society in giving out its excellent works. "And I have for years
+longed to see Sister Slocum, face to face, before I die," she says. And
+with an affixed determination to carry out this pious resolve, Mrs.
+Swiggs sips her tea, and retires to her dingy little chamber for the
+night.
+
+A bright and cheerful sun ushers in the following morning. The soft rays
+steal in at the snuffy door, at the dilapidated windows, through the
+faded curtains, and into the "best parlor," where, at an early hour,
+sits the antique old lady, rummaging over some musty old papers piled on
+the centre-table. The pale light plays over and gives to her features a
+spectre-like hue; while the grotesque pieces of furniture by which she
+is surrounded lend their aid in making complete the picture of a
+wizard's abode. The paper she wants is nowhere to be found. "I must
+exercise a little judgment in this affair," she mutters, folding a bit
+of paper, and seizing her pen. Having written--
+
+"TO THE MASTER OF THE WORK-HOUSE:
+
+"I am sorry I have to trouble you so often with old Cicero. He will not
+pay wages all I can do. Give him at least thirty--well laid on. I go to
+New York in a few days, and what is due you from me for punishments will
+be paid any time you send your bill.
+
+   "SARAH PRINGLE HUGHES SWIGGS."
+
+"Well! he deserves what he gets," she shakes her head and ejaculates.
+Having summoned Rebecca, Master Cicero, a hard-featured old negro, is
+ordered up, and comes tottering into the room, half-bent with age, his
+hair silvered, and his face covered with a mossy-white beard--the
+picture of a patriarch carved in ebony. "Good mornin', Missus," he
+speaks in a feeble and husky voice, standing hesitatingly before his
+august owner. "You are--well, I might as well say it--you're a
+miserable old wretch!" Cicero makes a nervous motion with his left hand,
+as the fingers of his right wander over the bald crown of his head, and
+his eyes give out a forlorn look. She has no pity for the poor old
+man--none. "You are, Cicero--you needn't pretend you ain't," she
+pursues; and springing to her feet with an incredible nimbleness, she
+advances to the window, tucks up the old curtain, and says, "There; let
+the light reflect on your face. Badness looks out of it, Cicero! you
+never was a good nigger--"
+
+"Per'aps not, Missus; but den I'se old."
+
+"Old! you ain't so old but you can pay wages," the testy old woman
+interrupts, tossing her head. "You're a capital hand at cunning excuses.
+This will get you done for, at the workhouse." She hands him a
+delicately enveloped and carefully superscribed _billet_, and commands
+him to proceed forthwith to the workhouse. A tear courses slowly down
+his time-wrinkled face, he hesitates, would speak one word in his own
+defence. But the word of his owner is absolute, and in obedience to the
+wave of her hand he totters to the door, and disappears. His tears are
+only those of a slave. How useless fall the tears of him who has no
+voice, no power to assert his manhood! And yet, in that shrunken
+bosom--in that figure, bent and shattered of age, there burns a passion
+for liberty and hatred of the oppressor more terrible than the hand that
+has made him the wretch he is. That tear! how forcibly it tells the tale
+of his sorrowing soul; how eloquently it foretells the downfall of that
+injustice holding him in its fierce chains!
+
+Cicero has been nicely got out of the way. Molly, his wife, is summoned
+into the presence of her mistress, to receive her awful doom. "To be
+frank with you, Molly, and I am always outspoken, you know, I am going
+to sell you. We have been long enough together, and necessity at this
+moment forces me to this conclusion," says our venerable lady,
+addressing herself to the old slave, who stands before her, leaning on
+her crutch, for she is one of the cripples. "You will get a pious owner,
+I trust; and God will be merciful to you."
+
+The old slave of seventy years replies only with an expression of hate
+in her countenance, and a drooping of her heavy lip. "Now," Mrs. Swiggs
+pursues, "take this letter, go straight to Mr. Forcheu with it, and he
+will sell you. He is very kind in selling old people--very!" Molly
+inquires if Cicero may go. Mrs. Swiggs replies that nobody will buy two
+old people together.
+
+The slave of seventy years, knowing her entreaties will be in vain,
+approaches her mistress with the fervency of a child, and grasping
+warmly her hand, stammers out: "Da--da--dah Lord bless um, Missus. Tan't
+many days fo'h we meet in t'oder world--good-bye."
+
+"God bless you--good-bye, Molly. Remember what I have told you so many
+times--long suffering and forbearance make the true Christian. Be a
+Christian--seek to serve your Master faithfully; such the Scripture
+teacheth. Now tie your handkerchief nicely on your head, and get your
+clean apron on, and mind to look good-natured when Mr. Forcheu sells
+you." This admonition, methodically addressed to the old slave, and Mrs.
+Swiggs waves her hand, resumes her Milton, and settles herself back into
+her chair. Reader! if you have a heart in the right place it will be
+needless for us to dwell upon the feelings of that old slave, as she
+drags her infirm body to the shambles of the extremely kind vender of
+people.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+MR. McARTHUR MAKES A DISCOVERY.
+
+
+On his return from the theatre, Mr. McArthur finds his daughter, Maria,
+waiting him in great anxiety. "Father, father!" she says, as he enters
+his little back parlor, "this is what that poor woman, Mag Munday, used
+to take on so about; here it is." She advances, her countenance wearing
+an air of great solicitude, holds the old dress in her left hand, and a
+stained letter in her right. "It fell from a pocket in the bosom," she
+pursues. The old man, with an expression of surprise, takes the letter
+and prepares to read it. He pauses. "Did it come from the dress I
+discovered in the old chest?" he inquires, adjusting his spectacles.
+Maria says it did. She has no doubt it might have relieved her
+suffering, if it had been found before she died. "But, father, was there
+not to you something strange, something mysterious about the manner she
+pursued her search for this old dress? You remember how she used to
+insist that it contained something that might be a fortune to her in her
+distress, and how there was a history connected with it that would not
+reflect much credit on a lady in high life!"
+
+The old man interrupts by saying he well remembers it; remembers how he
+thought she was a maniac to set so much value on the old dress, and make
+so many sighs when it could not be found. "It always occurred to me
+there was something more than the dress that made her take on so," the
+old man concludes, returning the letter to Maria, with a request that
+she will read it. Maria resumes her seat, the old man draws a chair to
+the table, and with his face supported in his left hand listens
+attentively as she reads:
+
+   "WASHINGTON SQUARE, NEW YORK,
+   May 14, 18--
+
+"I am glad to hear from Mr. Sildon that the child does well. Poor little
+thing, it gives me so many unhappy thoughts when I think of it; but I
+know you are a good woman, Mrs. Munday, and will watch her with the care
+of a mother. She was left at our door one night, and as people are
+always too ready to give currency to scandal, my brother and I thought
+that it would not be prudent to adopt it at once, more especially as I
+have been ill for the last few months, and have any quantity of enemies.
+I am going to close my house, now that my deceased husband's estate is
+settled, and spend a few years in Europe. Mr. Thomas Sildon is well
+provided with funds for the care of the child during my absence, and
+will pay you a hundred dollars every quarter. Let no one see this
+letter, not even your husband. And when I return I will give you an
+extra remuneration, and adopt the child as my own. Mr. Sildon will tell
+you where to find me when I return."
+
+   Your friend,
+   "C.A.M."
+
+"There, father," says Maria, "there is something more than we know
+about, connected with this letter. One thing always discovers
+another--don't you think it may have something to do with that lady who
+has two or three times come in here, and always appeared so nervous
+when she inquired about Mag Munday? and you recollect how she would not
+be content until we had told her a thousand different things concerning
+her. She wanted, she said, a clue to her; but she never could get a clue
+to her. There is something more than we know of connected with this
+letter," and she lays the old damp stained and crumpled letter on the
+table, as the old servant enters bearing on a small tray their humble
+supper.
+
+"Now, sit up, my daughter," says the old man, helping her to a sandwich
+while she pours out his dish of tea, "our enjoyment need be none the
+less because our fare is humble. As for satisfying this lady about Mag
+Munday, why, I have given that up. I told her all I knew, and that is,
+that when she first came to Charleston--one never knows what these New
+Yorkers are--she was a dashing sort of woman, had no end of admirers,
+and lived in fine style. Then it got out that she wasn't the wife of the
+man who came with her, but that she was the wife of a poor man of the
+name of Munday, and had quit her husband; as wives will when they take a
+notion in their heads. And as is always the way with these sort of
+people, she kept gradually getting down in the world, and as she kept
+getting more and more down so she took more and more to drink, and drink
+brought on grief, and grief soon wasted her into the grave. I took pity
+on her, for she seemed not a bad woman at heart, and always said she was
+forced by necessity into the house of Madame Flamingo--a house that
+hurries many a poor creature to her ruin. And she seemed possessed of a
+sense of honor not common to these people; and when Madame Flamingo
+turned her into the street,--as she does every one she has succeeded in
+making a wretch of,--and she could find no one to take her in, and had
+nowhere to lay her poor head, as she used to say, I used to lend her
+little amounts, which she always managed somehow to repay. As to there
+being anything valuable in the dress, I never gave it a thought; and
+when she would say if she could have restored to her the dress, and
+manage to get money enough to get to New York, I thought it was only the
+result of her sadness."
+
+"You may remember, father," interrupts Maria, "she twice spoke of a
+child left in her charge; and that the child was got away from her. If
+she could only trace that poor child, she would say, or find out what
+had become of it, she could forget her own sufferings and die easy. But
+the thought of what had become of that child forever haunted her; she
+knew that unless she atoned in some way the devil would surely get her."
+The old man says, setting down his cup, it all comes fresh to his mind.
+Mr. Soloman (he has not a doubt) could let some light upon the subject;
+and, as he seems acquainted with the lady that takes so much interest in
+what became of the woman Munday, he may relieve her search. "I am sure
+she is dead, nevertheless; I say this, knowing that having no home she
+got upon the Neck, and then associated with the negroes; and the last I
+heard of her was that the fever carried her off. This must have been
+true, or else she had been back here pleading for the bundles we could
+not find." Thus saying, Mr. McArthur finishes his humble supper, kisses
+and fondles his daughter, whom he dotingly loves, and retires for the
+night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+WHAT MADAME FLAMINGO WANTS TO BE.
+
+
+Tom Swiggs has enjoyed, to the evident satisfaction of his mother, a
+seven months' residence in the old prison. The very first families
+continue to pay their respects to the good old lady, and she in return
+daily honors them with mementoes of her remembrance. These little
+civilities, exchanging between the stately old lady and our first
+families, indicate the approach of the fashionable season. Indeed, we
+may as well tell you the fashionable season is commencing in right good
+earnest. Our elite are at home, speculations are rife as to what the
+"Jockey Club" will do, we are recounting our adventures at northern
+watering-places, chuckling over our heroism in putting down those who
+were unwise enough to speak disrespectful of our cherished institutions,
+and making very light of what we would do to the whole north. You may
+know, too, that our fashionable season is commenced by what is taking
+place at the house of Madame Flamingo on the one side, and the St.
+Cecilia on the other. We recognize these establishments as institutions.
+That they form the great fortifications of fashionable society, flanking
+it at either extreme, no one here doubts.
+
+We are extremely sensitive of two things--fashion, and our right to sell
+negroes. Without the former we should be at sea; without the latter, our
+existence would indeed be humble. The St. Cecilia Society inaugurates
+the fashionable season, the erudite Editor of the Courier will tell
+you, with an entertainment given to the elite of its members and a few
+very distinguished foreigners. Madame Flamingo opens her forts, at the
+same time, with a grand supper, which she styles a very select
+entertainment, and to which she invites none but "those of the highest
+standing in society." If you would like to see what sort of a supper she
+sets to inaugurate the fashionable season, take our arm for a few
+minutes.
+
+Having just arrived from New York, where she has been luxuriating and
+selecting her wares for the coming season, (New York is the fountain
+ejecting its vice over this Union,) Madame looks hale, hearty, and
+exceedingly cheerful. Nor has she spared any expense to make herself up
+with becoming youthfulness--as the common people have it. She has got
+her a lace cap of the latest fashion, with great broad striped blue and
+red strings; and her dress is of orange-colored brocade, trimmed with
+tulle, and looped with white blossoms. Down the stomacher it is set with
+jewels. Her figure seems more embonpoint than when we last saw her; and
+as she leans on the arm of old Judge Sleepyhorn, forms a striking
+contrast to the slender figure of that singular specimen of judicial
+infirmity. Two great doors are opened, and Madame leads the way into
+what she calls her upper and private parlor, a hall of some fifty feet
+by thirty, in the centre of which a sumptuously decorated table is set
+out. Indeed there is a chasteness and richness about the furniture and
+works of art that decorate this apartment, singularly at variance with
+the bright-colored furniture of the room we have described in a former
+chapter. "Ladies and gentlemen!" ejaculates the old hostess, "imagine
+this a palace, in which you are all welcome. As the legal gentry say
+(she casts a glance at the old Judge), when you have satisfactorily
+imagined that, imagine me a princess, and address me--"
+
+"High ho!" interrupts Mr. Soloman.
+
+"I confess," continues the old woman, her little, light-brown curls
+dangling across her brow, and her face crimsoning, "I would like to be a
+princess."
+
+"You can," rejoins the former speaker, his fingers wandering to his
+chin.
+
+"Well! I have my beadle--beadles, I take, are inseparable from royal
+blood--and my servants in liveries. After all (she tosses her head) what
+can there be in beadles and liveries? Why! the commonest and vulgarest
+people of New York have taken to liveries. If you chance to take an
+elegant drive up the 'Fifth Avenue,' and meet a dashing equipage--say
+with horses terribly caparisoned, a purloined crest on the
+carriage-door, a sallow-faced footman covered up in a green coat, all
+over big brass buttons, stuck up behind, and a whiskey-faced coachman
+half-asleep in a great hammercloth, be sure it belongs to some snob who
+has not a sentence of good English in his head. Yes! perhaps a
+soap-chandler, an oil-dealer, or a candy-maker. Brainless people always
+creep into plush--always! People of taste and learning, like me, only
+are entitled to liveries and crests." This Madame says, inviting her
+guests to take seats at her banquet-table, at the head of which she
+stands, the Judge on her right, Mr. Soloman on her left. Her china is of
+the most elaborate description, embossed and gilt; her plate is of pure
+silver, and massive; she has vases and candelabras of the same metal;
+and her cutlery is of the most costly description. No house in the
+country can boast a more exact taste in their selection. At each plate
+a silver holder stands, bearing a bouquet of delicately-arranged
+flowers. A trellise of choice flowers, interspersed here and there with
+gorgeous bouquets in porcelain vases, range along the centre of the
+table; which presents the appearance of a bed of fresh flowers
+variegated with delicious fruits. Her guests are to her choicer than her
+fruits; her fruits are choicer than her female wares. No entertainment
+of this kind would be complete without Judge Sleepyhorn and Mr. Soloman.
+They countenance vice in its most insidious form--they foster crime;
+without crime their trade would be damaged. The one cultivates, that the
+other may reap the harvest and maintain his office.
+
+"I see," says Mr. Soloman, in reply to the old hostess, "not the
+slightest objection to your being a princess--not the slightest! And, to
+be frank about the matter, I know of no one who would better ornament
+the position."
+
+"Your compliments are too liberally bestowed, Mr. Soloman."
+
+"Not at all! 'Pon my honor, now, there is a chance for you to bring that
+thing about in a very short time. There is Grouski, the Polish exile, a
+prince of pure blood. Grouski is poor, wants to get back to Europe. He
+wants a wife, too. Grouski is a high old fellow--a most celebrated man,
+fought like a hero for the freedom of his country; and though an exile
+here, would be received with all the honors due to a prince in either
+Italy, France or England.
+
+"A very respectable gentleman, no doubt; but a prince of pure blood, Mr.
+Soloman, is rather a scarce article these days."
+
+"Not a bit of it--why there is lots of exiled Princes all over this
+country. They are modest men, you know, like me; and having got it into
+their heads that we don't like royal blood, rather keep the fact of
+their birth to themselves. As for Grouski! why his history is as
+familiar to every American who takes any interest in these things, as is
+the history of poor Kossuth. I only say this, Madame Flamingo, to prove
+to you that Grouski is none of your mock articles. And what is more, I
+have several times heard him speak most enthusiastically of you."
+
+"Of me!" interrupts the old hostess, blushing. "I respect Grouski, and
+the more so for his being a poor prince in exile." Madame orders her
+servants, who are screwed into bright liveries, to bring on some
+sparkling Moselle. This done, and the glasses filled with the sparkling
+beverage, Mr. Soloman rises to propose a toast; although, as he says, it
+is somewhat out of place, two rounds having only succeeded the soup: "I
+propose the health of our generous host, to whom we owe so much for the
+superb manner in which she has catered for our amusement. Here's that we
+may speedily have the pleasure of paying our respects to her as the
+Princess Grouski." Madame Flamingo bows, the toast is drunk with cheers,
+and she begins to think there is something in it after all.
+
+"Make as light of it as you please, ladies and gentlemen--many stranger
+things have come to pass. As for the exile, Grouski, I always esteemed
+him a very excellent gentleman."
+
+"Exactly!" interposes the Judge, tipping his glass, and preparing his
+appetite for the course of game--broiled partridges, rice-birds, and
+grouse--which is being served by the waiters. "No one more worthy," he
+pursues, wiping his sleepy face with his napkin, "of being a princess.
+Education, wealth, and taste, you have; and with Grouski, there is
+nothing to prevent the happy consummation--nothing! I beg to assure
+you," Madame Flamingo makes a most courteous bow, and with an air of
+great dignity condescends to say she hopes gentlemen of the highest
+standing in Charleston have for ten years or more had the strongest
+proofs of her ability to administer the offices of a lady of station.
+"But you know," she pursues, hoping ladies and gentlemen will be kind
+enough to keep their glasses full, "people are become so pious
+now-a-days that they are foolish enough to attach a stigma to our
+business."
+
+"Pooh, pooh!" interrupts the accommodation man, having raised his glass
+in compliment to a painted harlot. "Once in Europe, and under the shadow
+of the wife of Prince Grouski, the past would be wiped out; your money
+would win admirers, while your being a princess would make fashionable
+society your tool. The very atmosphere of princesses is full of taint;
+but it is sunk in the rank, and rather increases courtiers. In France
+your untainted princess would prognosticate the second coming of--,
+well, I will not profane."
+
+"Do not, I beg of you," says Madame, blushing. "I am scrupulously
+opposed to profanity." And then there breaks upon the ear music that
+seems floating from an enchanted chamber, so soft and dulcet does it
+mingle with the coarse laughing and coarser wit of the banqueters. At
+this feast of flowers may be seen the man high in office, the grave
+merchant, the man entrusted with the most important affairs of the
+commonwealth--the sage and the charlatan. Sallow-faced and painted
+women, more undressed than dressed, sit beside them, hale companions.
+Respectable society regards the Judge a fine old gentleman; respectable
+society embraces Mr. Soloman, notwithstanding he carries on a business,
+as we shall show, that brings misery upon hundreds. Twice has he
+received a large vote as candidate for the General Assembly.
+
+A little removed from the old Judge (excellent man) sits Anna Bonard,
+like a jewel among stones less brilliant, George Mullholland on her
+left. Her countenance wears an expression of gentleness, sweet and
+touching. Her silky black hair rolls in wavy folds down her voluptuous
+shoulders, a fresh carnatic flush suffuses her cheeks, her great black
+eyes, so beautifully arched with heavy lashes, flash incessantly, and to
+her bewitching charms is added a pensive smile that now lights up her
+features, then subsides into melancholy.
+
+"What think you of my statuary?" inquired the old hostess, "and my
+antiques? Have I not taste enough for a princess?" How soft the carpet,
+how rich its colors! Those marble mantel-pieces, sculptured in female
+figures, how massive! How elegantly they set off each end of the hall,
+as we shall call this room; and how sturdily they bear up statuettes,
+delicately executed in alabaster and Parian, of Byron, Goethe, Napoleon,
+and Charlemagne--two on each. And there, standing between two Gothic
+windows on the front of the hall, is an antique side-table, of curious
+design. The windows are draped with curtains of rich purple satin, with
+embroidered cornice skirts and heavy tassels. On this antique table, and
+between the undulating curtains, is a marble statue of a female in a
+reclining posture, her right hand supporting her head, her dishevelled
+hair flowing down her shoulder. The features are soft, calm, and almost
+grand. It is simplicity sleeping, Madame Flamingo says. On the opposite
+side of the hall are pedestals of black walnut, with mouldings in gilt,
+on which stand busts of Washington and Lafayette, as if they were
+unwilling spectators of the revelry. A venerable recline, that may have
+had a place in the propylaea, or served to decorate the halls of
+Versailles in the days of Napoleon, has here a place beneath the
+portrait of Jefferson. This humble tribute the old hostess says she pays
+to democracy. And at each end of the hall are double alcoves, over the
+arches of which are great spread eagles, holding in their beaks the
+points of massive maroon-colored drapery that falls over the sides,
+forming brilliant depressions. In these alcoves are groups of figures
+and statuettes, and parts of statuettes, legless and armless, and all
+presenting a rude and mutilated condition. What some of them represented
+it would have puzzled the ancient Greeks to decypher. Madame,
+nevertheless, assures her guests she got them from among the relics of
+Italian and Grecian antiquity. You may do justice to her taste on living
+statuary; but her rude and decrepit wares, like those owned and so much
+valued by our New York patrons of the arts, you may set down as
+belonging to a less antique age of art. And there are chairs inlaid with
+mosaic and pearl, and upholstered with the richest and brightest satin
+damask,--revealing, however, that uncouthness of taste so characteristic
+of your Fifth Avenue aristocrat.
+
+Now cast your eye upward to the ceiling. It is frescoed with themes of a
+barbaric age. The finely-outlined figure of a female adorns the centre.
+Her loins are enveloped in what seems a mist; and in her right hand,
+looking as if it were raised from the groundwork, she holds gracefully
+the bulb of a massive chandelier, from the jets of which a refulgent
+light is reflected upon the flowery banquet table. Madame smilingly says
+it is the Goddess of Love, an exact copy of the one in the temple of
+Jupiter Olympus. Another just opposite, less voluptuous in its outlines,
+she adds, is intended for a copy of the fabled goddess, supposed by the
+ancients to have thrown off her wings to illustrate the uncertainty of
+fortune.
+
+Course follows course, of viands the most delicious, and sumptuously
+served. The wine cup now flows freely, the walls reecho the coarse jokes
+and coarser laughs of the banqueters, and leaden eyelids, languid faces,
+and reeling brains, mark the closing scene. Such is the gorgeous vice we
+worship, such the revelries we sanction, such the insidious debaucheries
+we shield with the mantle of our laws--laws made for the accommodation
+of the rich, for the punishment only of the poor. And a thousand poor in
+our midst suffer for bread while justice sleeps.
+
+Midnight is upon the banqueters, the music strikes up a last march, the
+staggering company retire to the stifled air of resplendent chambers.
+The old hostess contemplates herself as a princess, and seriously
+believes an alliance with Grouski would not be the strangest thing in
+the world. There is, however, one among the banqueters who seems to have
+something deeper at heart than the transitory offerings on the
+table--one whose countenance at times assumes a thoughtfulness
+singularly at variance with those around her. It is Anna Bonard.
+
+Only to-day did George Mullholland reveal to her the almost hopeless
+condition of poor Tom Swiggs, still confined in the prison, with
+criminals for associates, and starving. She had met Tom when fortune was
+less ruthless; he had twice befriended her while in New York. Moved by
+that sympathy for the suffering which is ever the purest offspring of
+woman's heart, no matter how low her condition, she resolved not to rest
+until she had devised the means of his release. Her influence over the
+subtle-minded old Judge she well knew, nor was she ignorant of the
+relations existing between him and the accommodation man.
+
+On the conclusion of the feast she invites them to her chamber. They are
+not slow to accept the invitation. "Be seated, gentlemen, be seated,"
+she says, preserving a calmness of manner not congenial to the feelings
+of either of her guests. She places chairs for them at the round table,
+upon the marble top of which an inlaid portfolio lies open.
+
+"Rather conventional," stammers Mr. Snivel, touching the Judge
+significantly on the arm, as they take seats. Mr. Snivel is fond of good
+wine, and good wine has so mellowed his constitution that he is obliged
+to seek support for his head in his hands.
+
+"I'd like a little light on this 'ere plot. Peers thar's somethin' a
+foot," responds the Judge.
+
+Anna interposes by saying they shall know quick enough. Placing a pen
+and inkstand on the table, she takes her seat opposite them, and
+commences watching their declining consciousness. "Thar," ejaculates the
+old Judge, his moody face becoming dark and sullen, "let us have the
+wish."
+
+"You owe me an atonement, and you can discharge it by gratifying my
+desire."
+
+"Women," interposes the old Judge, dreamily, "always have wishes to
+gratify. W-o-l, if its teu sign a warrant, hang a nigger, tar and
+feather an abolitionist, ride the British Consul out a town, or send a
+dozen vagrants to the whipping-post--I'm thar. Anything my hand's in
+at!" incoherently mumbles this judicial dignitary.
+
+Mr. Snivel having reminded the Judge that ten o'clock to-morrow morning
+is the time appointed for meeting Splitwood, the "nigger broker," who
+furnishes capital with which they start a new paper for the new party,
+drops away into a refreshing sleep, his head on the marble.
+
+"Grant me, as a favor, an order for the release of poor Tom Swiggs. You
+cannot deny me this, Judge," says Anna, with an arch smile, and pausing
+for a reply.
+
+"Wol, as to that," responds this high functionary, "if I'd power,
+'twouldn't be long afore I'd dew it, though his mother'd turn the town
+upside down; but I hain't no power in the premises. I make it a rule, on
+and off the bench, never to refuse the request of a pretty woman.
+Chivalry, you know."
+
+"For your compliment, Judge, I thank you. The granting my request,
+however, would be more grateful to my feelings."
+
+"It speaks well of your heart, my dear girl; but, you see, I'm only a
+Judge. Mr. Snivel, here, probably committed him ('Snivel! here, wake
+up!' he says, shaking him violently), he commits everybody. Being a
+Justice of the Peace, you see, and justices of the peace being
+everything here, I may prevail on him to grant your request!" pursues
+the Judge, brightening up at the earnest manner in which Anna makes her
+appeal. "Snivel! Snivel!--Justice Snivel, come, wake up. Thar is a call
+for your sarvices." The Judge continues to shake the higher functionary
+violently. Mr. Snivel with a modest snore rouses from his nap, says he
+is always ready to do a bit of a good turn. "If you are, then,"
+interposes the fair girl, "let it be made known now. Grant me an order
+of release for Tom Swiggs. Remember what will be the consequence of a
+refusal!"
+
+"Tom Swiggs! Tom Swiggs!--why I've made a deal of fees of that fellow.
+But, viewing it in either a judicial or philosophical light, he's quite
+as well where he is. They don't give them much to eat in jail I admit,
+but it is a great place for straightening the morals of a rum-head like
+Tom. And he has got down so low that all the justices in the city
+couldn't make him fit for respectable society." Mr. Snivel yawns and
+stretches his arms athwart.
+
+"But you can grant me the order independent of what respectable society
+will do."
+
+Mr. Snivel replies, bowing, a pretty woman is more than a match for the
+whole judiciary. He will make a good amount of fees out of Tom yet; and
+what his testy old mother declines to pay, he will charge to the State,
+as the law gives him a right to do.
+
+"Then I am to understand!" quickly retorts Anna, rising from her chair,
+with an expression of contempt on her countenance, and a satirical curl
+on her lip, "you have no true regard for me then; your friendship is
+that of the knave, who has nothing to give after his ends are served. I
+will leave you!" The Judge takes her gently by the arm; indignantly she
+pushes him from her, as her great black eyes flash with passion, and she
+seeks for the door. Mr. Snivel has placed himself against it, begs she
+will be calm. "Why," he says, "get into a passion at that which was but
+a joke." The Judge touches him on the arm significantly, and whispers
+in his ear, "grant her the order--grant it, for peace sake, Justice
+Snivel."
+
+"Now, if you will tell me why you take so deep an interest in getting
+them fellows out of prison, I will grant the order of release," Mr.
+Snivel says, and with an air of great gallantry leads her back to her
+chair.
+
+"None but friendship for one who served me when he had it in his power."
+
+"I see! I see!" interrupts our gallant justice; "the renewal of an old
+acquaintance; you are to play the part of Don Quixote,--he, the
+mistress. It's well enough there should be a change in the knights, and
+that the stripling who goes about in the garb of the clergy, and has
+been puzzling his wits how to get Tom out of prison for the last six
+months--"
+
+"Your trades never agree;" parenthesises Anna.
+
+"Should yield the lance to you."
+
+"Who better able to wield it in this chivalrous atmosphere? It only
+pains my own feelings to confess myself an abandoned woman; but I have a
+consolation in knowing how powerful an abandoned woman may be in
+Charleston."
+
+An admonition from the old Judge, and Mr. Snivel draws his chair to the
+table, upon which he places his left elbow, rests his head on his hand.
+"This fellow will get out; his mother--I have pledged my honor to keep
+him fast locked up--will find it out, and there'll be a fuss among our
+first families," he whispers. Anna pledges him her honor, a thing she
+never betrays, that the secret of Tom's release shall be a matter of
+strict confidence. And having shook hands over it, Mr. Snivel seizes the
+pen and writes an order of release, commanding the jailer to set at
+liberty one Tom Swiggs, committed as a vagrant upon a justice's warrant,
+&c., &c., &c. "There," says Justice Snivel, "the thing is done--now for
+a kiss;" and the fair girl permits him to kiss her brow. "Me too; the
+bench and the bar!" rejoins the Judge, following the example of his
+junior. And with an air of triumph the victorious girl bears away what
+at this moment she values a prize.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+IN WHICH TOM SWIGGS GAINS HIS LIBERTY, AND WHAT BEFALLS HIM.
+
+
+Anna gives George Mullholland the letter of release, and on the
+succeeding morning he is seen entering at the iron gate of the wall that
+encloses the old prison. "Bread! give me bread," greets his ear as soon
+as he enters the sombre old pile. He walks through the debtors' floor,
+startles as he hears the stifled cry for bread, and contemplates with
+pained feelings the wasting forms and sickly faces that everywhere meet
+his eye. The same piercing cry grates upon his senses as he sallies
+along the damp, narrow aisle of the second floor, lined on both sides
+with small, filthy cells, in which are incarcerated men whose crime is
+that of having committed "assault and battery," and British seamen
+innocent of all crime except that of having a colored skin. If anything
+less than a gentleman commit assault and battery, we punish him with
+imprisonment; we have no law to punish gentlemen who commit such
+offences.
+
+Along the felon's aisle--in the malarious cells where "poor" murderers
+and burglars are chained to die of the poisonous atmosphere, the same
+cry tells its mournful tale. Look into the dark vista of this little
+passage, and you will see the gleaming of flabby arms and shrunken
+hands. Glance into the apertures out of which they protrude so
+appealingly, you will hear the dull clank of chains, see the glare of
+vacant eyes, and shudder at the pale, cadaverous faces of beings
+tortured with starvation. A low, hoarse whisper, asks you for bread; a
+listless countenance quickens at your footfall. Oh! could you but feel
+the emotion that has touched that shrunken form which so despondingly
+waits the coming of a messenger of mercy. That system of cruelty to
+prisoners which so disgraced England during the last century, and which
+for her name she would were erased from her history, we preserve here in
+all its hideousness. The Governor knows nothing, and cares nothing about
+the prison; the Attorney-General never darkens its doors; the public
+scarce give a thought for those within its walls--and to one man, Mr.
+Hardscrabble, is the fate of these wretched beings entrusted. And so
+prone has become the appetite of man to speculate on the misfortunes of
+his fellow-man, that this good man, as we shall call him, tortures thus
+the miserable beings entrusted to his keeping, and makes it a means of
+getting rich. Pardon, reader, this digression.
+
+George, elated with the idea of setting Tom at liberty, found the young
+theologian at the prison, and revealed to him the fact that he had got
+the much-desired order. To the latter this seemed strange--not that such
+a person as George could have succeeded in what he had tried in vain to
+effect, but that there was a mystery about it. It is but justice to say
+that the young theologian had for six months used every exertion in his
+power, without avail, to procure an order of release. He had appealed to
+the Attorney-General, who declared himself powerless, but referred him
+to the Governor. The Governor could take no action in the premises, and
+referred him to the Judge of the Sessions. The Judge of the Sessions
+doubted his capacity to interfere, and advised a petition to the Clerk
+of the Court. The Clerk of the Court, who invariably took it upon
+himself to correct the judge's dictum, decided that the judge could not
+interfere, the case being a committal by a Justice of the Peace, and not
+having been before the sessions. And against these high
+functionaries--the Governor, Attorney-General, Judge of the Sessions,
+and Clerk of the Court, was Mr. Soloman and Mrs. Swiggs all-powerful.
+There was, however, another power superior to all, and that we have
+described in the previous chapter.
+
+Accompanied by the brusque old jailer, George and the young theologian
+make their way to the cell in which Tom is confined.
+
+"Hallo! Tom," exclaims George, as he enters the cell, "boarding at the
+expense of the State yet, eh?" Tom lay stretched on a blanket in one
+corner of the cell, his faithful old friend, the sailor, watching over
+him with the solicitude of a brother. "I don't know how he'd got on if
+it hadn't bin for the old sailor, yonder," says the jailer, pointing to
+Spunyarn, who is crouched down at the great black fireplace, blowing the
+coals under a small pan. "He took to Tom when he first came in, and
+hasn't left him for a day. He'll steal to supply Tom's hunger, and fight
+if a prisoner attempts to impose upon his charge. He has rigged him out,
+you see, with his pea-coat and overalls," continues the man, folding his
+arms.
+
+"I am sorry, Tom--"
+
+"Yes," says Tom, interrupting the young theologian, "I know you are. You
+don't find me to have kept my word; and because I haven't you don't find
+me improved much. I can't get out; and if I can't get out, what's the
+use of my trying to improve? I don't say this because I don't want to
+improve. I have no one living who ought to care for me, but my mother.
+And she has shown what she cares for me."
+
+"Everything is well. (The young theologian takes Tom by the hand.) We
+have got your release. You are a free man, now."
+
+"My release!" exclaims the poor outcast, starting to his feet, "my
+release?"
+
+"Yes," kindly interposes the jailer, "you may go, Tom. Stone walls,
+bolts and chains have no further use for you." The announcement brings
+tears to his eyes; he cannot find words to give utterance to his
+emotions. He drops the young theologian's hand, grasps warmly that of
+George Mullholland, and says, the tears falling fast down his cheeks,
+"now I will be a new man."
+
+"God bless Tom," rejoins the old sailor, who has left the fireplace and
+joined in the excitement of the moment. "I alwas sed there war better
+weather ahead, Tom." He pats him encouragingly on the shoulder, and
+turns to the bystanders, continuing with a childlike frankness: "he's
+alwas complained with himself about breaking his word and honor with
+you, sir--"
+
+The young theologian says the temptation was more than he could
+withstand.
+
+"Yes sir!--that was it. He, poor fellow, wasn't to blame. One brought
+him in a drop, and challenged him; then another brought him in a drop,
+and challenged him; and the vote-cribber would get generous now and
+then, and bring him a drop, saying how he would like to crib him if he
+was only out, on the general election coming on, and make him take a
+drop of what he called election whiskey. And you know, sir, it's hard
+for a body to stand up against all these things, specially when a body's
+bin disappointed in love. It's bin a hard up and down with him. To-day
+he would make a bit of good weather, and to-morrow he'd be all up in a
+hurricane." And the old sailor takes a fresh quid of tobacco, wipes
+Tom's face, gets the brush and fusses over him, and tells him to cheer
+up, now that he has got his clearance.
+
+"Tom would know if his mother ordered it."
+
+"No! she must not know that you are at large," rejoins George.
+
+"Not that I am at large?"
+
+"I have," interposes the young theologian, "provided a place for you. We
+have a home for you, a snug little place at the house of old McArthur--"
+
+"Old McArthur," interpolates Tom, smiling, "I'm not a curiosity."
+
+George Mullholland says he may make love to Maria, that she will once
+more be a sister. Touched by the kindly act on his behalf, Tom replies
+saying she was always kind to him, watched over him when no one else
+would, and sought with tender counsels to effect his reform, to make him
+forget his troubles.
+
+"Thank you!--my heart thanks you more forcibly than my tongue can. I
+feel a man. I won't touch drink again: no I won't. You won't find me
+breaking my honor this time. A sick at heart man, like me, has no power
+to buffet disappointment. I was a wretch, and like a wretch without a
+mother's sympathy, found relief only in drinks--"
+
+"And such drinks!" interposes the old sailor, shrugging his shoulders.
+"Good weather, and a cheer up, now and then, from a friend, would have
+saved him."
+
+Now there appears in the doorway, the stalworth figure of the
+vote-cribber, who, with sullen face, advances mechanically toward Tom,
+pauses and regards him with an air of suspicion. "You are not what you
+ought to be, Tom," he says, doggedly, and turns to the young Missionary.
+"Parson," he continues, "this 'ere pupil of yourn's a hard un. He isn't
+fit for respectable society. Like a sponge, he soaks up all the whiskey
+in jail." The young man turns upon him a look more of pity than scorn,
+while the jailer shakes his head admonishingly. The vote-cribber
+continues insensible to the admonition. He, be it known, is a character
+of no small importance in the political world. Having a sort of sympathy
+for the old jail he views his transient residences therein rather
+necessary than otherwise. As a leading character is necessary to every
+grade of society, so also does he plume himself the aristocrat of the
+prison. Persons committed for any other than offences against the
+election laws, he holds in utter contempt. Indeed, he says with a good
+deal of truth, that as fighting is become the all necessary
+qualification of our Senators and Representatives to Congress, he thinks
+of offering himself for the next vacancy. The only rival he fears is
+"handsome Charley."[2] The accommodations are not what they might be,
+but, being exempt from rent and other items necessary to a prominent
+politician, he accepts them as a matter of economy.
+
+[Footnote 2: An election bully, the ugliest man in Charleston, and the
+deadly foe of Mingle.]
+
+The vote-cribber is sure of being set free on the approach of an
+election. We may as well confess it before the world--he is an
+indispensable adjunct to the creating, of Legislators, Mayors,
+Congressmen, and Governors. Whiskey is not more necessary to the
+reputation of our mob-politicians than are the physical powers of Milman
+Mingle to the success of the party he honors with his services. Nor do
+his friends scruple at consulting him on matters of great importance to
+the State while in his prison sanctuary.
+
+"I'm out to-morrow, parson," he resumes; the massive fingers of his
+right hand wandering into his crispy, red beard, and again over his
+scarred face. "Mayor's election comes off two weeks from
+Friday--couldn't do without me--can knock down any quantity of men--you
+throw a plumper, I take it?" The young Missionary answers in the
+negative by shaking his head, while the kind old sailor continues to
+fuss over and prepare Tom for his departure. "Tom is about to leave us,"
+says the old sailor, by way of diverting the vote-cribber's attention.
+That dignitary, so much esteemed by our fine old statesmen, turns to
+Tom, and inquires if he has a vote.
+
+Tom has a vote, but declares he will not give it to the vote-cribber's
+party. The politician says "p'raps," and draws from his bosom a small
+flask. "Whiskey, Tom," he says,--"no use offering it to parsons, eh? (he
+casts an insinuating look at the parson.) First-chop election whiskey--a
+sup and we're friends until I get you safe under the lock of my crib.
+Our Senators to Congress patronize this largely." The forlorn freeman,
+with a look of contempt for the man who thus upbraids him, dashes the
+drug upon the floor, to the evident chagrin of the politician, who, to
+conceal his feelings, turns to George Mulholland, and mechanically
+inquires if _he_ has a vote. Being answered in the negative, he picks up
+his flask and walks away, saying: "what rubbish!"
+
+Accompanied by his friends and the old sailor, Tom sallies forth into
+the atmosphere of sweet freedom. As the old jailer swings back the outer
+gate, Spunyarn grasps his friend and companion in sorrow warmly by the
+hand, his bronzed face brightens with an air of satisfaction, and like
+pure water gushing from the rude rock his eyes fill with tears. How
+honest, how touching, how pure the friendly lisp--good bye! "Keep up a
+strong heart, Tom,--never mind me. I don't know by what right I'm kept
+here, and starved; but I expect to get out one of these days; and when I
+do you may reckon on me as your friend. Keep the craft in good trim till
+then; don't let the devil get master. Come and see us now and then, and
+above all, never give up the ship during a storm." Tom's emotions are
+too deeply touched. He has no reply to make, but presses in silence the
+hand of the old sailor, takes his departure, and turns to wave him an
+adieu.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+IN WHICH THERE IS AN INTERESTING MEETING.
+
+
+Our very chivalric dealers in human merchandise, like philosophers and
+philanthropists, are composed merely of flesh and blood, while their
+theories are alike influenced by circumstances. Those of the first, we
+(the South) are, at times, too apt to regard as sublimated and refined,
+while we hold the practices of the latter such as divest human nature of
+everything congenial. Nevertheless we can assure our readers that there
+does not exist a class of men who so much pride themselves on their
+chivalry as some of our opulent slave-dealers. Did we want proof to
+sustain what we have said we could not do better than refer to Mr.
+Forsheu, that very excellent gentleman. Mrs. Swiggs held him in high
+esteem, and so far regarded his character for piety and chivalry
+unblemished, that she consigned to him her old slave of seventy
+years--old Molly. Molly must be sold, the New York Tract Society must
+have a mite, and Sister Abijah Slocum's very laudable enterprise of
+getting Brother Singleton Spyke off to Antioch must be encouraged. And
+Mr. Forsheu is very kind to the old people he sells. It would, indeed,
+be difficult for the distant reader to conceive a more striking instance
+of a man, grown rich in a commerce that blunts all the finer qualities
+of our nature, preserving a gentleness, excelled only by his real
+goodness of heart.
+
+When the old slave, leaning on her crutch, stood before Mr. Forsheu, her
+face the very picture of age and starvation, his heart recoiled at the
+thought of selling her in her present condition. He read the letter she
+bore, contemplated her with an air of pity, and turning to Mr. Benbow,
+his methodical book-keeper of twenty years, who had added and subtracted
+through a wilderness of bodies and souls, ordered him to send the
+shrunken old woman into the pen, on feed. Mr. Forsheu prided himself on
+the quality of people sold at his shambles, and would not for the world
+hazard his reputation on old Molly, till she was got in better
+condition. Molly rather liked this, inasmuch as she had been fed on corn
+and prayers exclusively, and more prayers than corn, which is become the
+fashion with our much-reduced first families. For nearly four months she
+enjoyed, much to the discomfiture of her august owner, the comforts of
+Mr. Forsheu's pen. Daily did the anxious old lady study her Milton, and
+dispatch a slave to inquire if her piece of aged property had found a
+purchaser. The polite vender preserved, with uncommon philosophy, his
+temper. He enjoined patience. The condition and age of the property
+were, he said, much in the way of sale. Then Mrs. Swiggs began
+questioning his ability as a merchant. Aspersions of this kind, the
+polite vender of people could not bear with. He was a man of enormous
+wealth, the result of his skill in the sale of people. He was the
+president of an insurance company, a bank director, a commissioner of
+the orphan asylum, and a steward of the jockey club. To his great
+relief, for he began to have serious misgivings about his outlay on old
+Molly, there came along one day an excellent customer. This was no less
+a person than Madame Flamingo. What was singular of this very
+distinguished lady was, that she always had a use for old slaves no one
+else ever thought of. Her yard was full of aged and tottering humanity.
+One cleaned knives, another fetched ice from the ice-house, a third
+blacked boots, a fourth split wood, a fifth carried groceries, and a
+sixth did the marketing. She had a decayed negro for the smallest
+service; and, to her credit be it said, they were as contented and well
+fed a body of tottering age as could be found in old Carolina.
+
+Her knife-cleaning machine having taken it into his head to die one day,
+she would purchase another. Mr Forsheu, with that urbanity we so well
+understand how to appreciate, informed the distinguished lady that he
+had an article exactly suited to her wants. Forthwith, Molly was
+summoned into her presence. Madame Flamingo, moved almost to tears at
+the old slave's appearance, purchased her out of pure sympathy, as we
+call it, and to the great relief of Mr. Forsheu, lost no time in paying
+one hundred and forty dollars down in gold for her. In deference to Mr.
+Hadger, the House of The Foreign Missions, and the very excellent Tract
+Society, of New York, we will not here extend on how the money was got.
+The transaction was purely commercial: why should humanity interpose? We
+hold it strictly legal that institutions created for the purpose of
+enlightening the heathen have no right to ask by what means the money
+constituting their donations is got.
+
+The comforts of Mr. Forsheu's pen,--the hominy, grits, and rest, made
+the old slave quite as reluctant about leaving him as she had before
+been in parting with Lady Swiggs. Albeit, she shook his hand with equal
+earnestness, and lisped "God bless Massa," with a tenderness and
+simplicity so touching, that had not Madame Flamingo been an excellent
+diplomat, reconciling the matter by assuring her that she would get
+enough to eat, and clothes to wear, no few tears would have been shed.
+Madame, in addition to this incentive, intimated that she might attend a
+prayer meeting now and then--perhaps see Cicero. However, Molly could
+easily have forgotten Cicero, inasmuch as she had enjoyed the rare
+felicity of thirteen husbands, all of whom Lady Swiggs had sold when it
+suited her own convenience.
+
+Having made her purchase, Madame very elegantly bid the gallant merchant
+good morning, hoping he would not forget her address, and call round
+when it suited his convenience. Mr. Forsheu, his hat doffed, escorted
+her to her carriage, into the amber-colored lining of which she
+gracefully settled her majestic self, as a slightly-browned gentleman in
+livery closed the bright door, took her order with servile bows, and
+having motioned to the coachman, the carriage rolled away, and was soon
+out of sight. Monsieur Gronski, it may be well to add here, was
+discovered curled up in one corner; he smiled, and extended his hand
+very graciously to Madame as she entered the carriage.
+
+Like a pilgrim in search of some promised land, Molly adjusted her
+crutch, and over the sandy road trudged, with truculent face, to her new
+home, humming to herself "dah-is-a-time-a-comin, den da Lor' he be
+good!!"
+
+On the following morning, Lady Swiggs received her account current, Mr.
+Forsheu being exceedingly prompt in business. There was one hundred and
+twenty-nine days' feed, commissions, advertising, and sundry smaller
+charges, which reduced the net balance to one hundred and three dollars.
+Mrs. Swiggs, with an infatuation kindred to that which finds the State
+blind to its own poverty, stubbornly refused to believe her slaves had
+declined in value. Hence she received the vender's account with surprise
+and dissatisfaction. However, the sale being binding, she gradually
+accommodated her mind to the result, and began evolving the question of
+how to make the amount meet the emergency. She must visit the great city
+of New York; she must see Sister Slocum face to face; Brother Spyke's
+mission must have fifty dollars; how much could she give the Tract
+Society? Here was a dilemma--one which might have excited the sympathy
+of the House of the "Foreign Missions." The dignity of the family, too,
+was at stake. Many sleepless nights did this difficult matter cause the
+august old lady. She thought of selling another cripple! Oh! that would
+not do. Mr. Keepum had a lien on them; Mr. Keepum was a man of
+iron-heart. Suddenly it flashed upon her mind that she had already been
+guilty of a legal wrong in selling old Molly. Mr. Soloman had doubtless
+described her with legal minuteness in the bond of security for the two
+hundred dollars. Her decrepit form; her corrugated face; her heavy lip;
+her crutch, and her piety--everything, in a word, but her starvation,
+had been set down. Well! Mr. Soloman might, she thought, overlook in the
+multiplicity of business so small a discrepancy. She, too, had a large
+circle of distinguished friends. If the worst came to the worst she
+would appeal to them. There, too, was Sir Sunderland Swiggs' portrait,
+very valuable for its age; she might sell the family arms, such things
+being in great demand with the chivalry; her antique furniture, too,
+was highly prized by our first families. Thus Lady Swiggs contemplated
+these mighty relics of past greatness. Our celtic Butlers and Brookses
+never recurred to the blood of their querulous ancestors with more awe
+than did this memorable lady to her decayed relics. Mr. Israel Moses,
+she cherished a hope, would give a large sum for the portrait; the
+family arms he would value at a high figure; the old furniture he would
+esteem a prize. But to Mr. Moses and common sense, neither the blood of
+the Butlers, nor Lady Swiggs' rubbish, were safe to loan money upon. The
+Hebrew gentleman was not so easily beguiled.
+
+The time came when it was necessary to appeal to Mr. Hadger. That
+gentleman held the dignity of the Swiggs family in high esteem, but
+shook his head when he found the respectability of the house the only
+security offered in exchange for a loan. Ah! a thought flashed to her
+relief, the family watch and chain would beguile the Hebrew gentleman.
+With these cherished mementoes of the high old family, (she would under
+no other circumstance have parted with for uncounted gold,) she in time
+seduced Mr. Israel Moses to make a small advance. Duty, stern and
+demanding, called her to New York. Forced to reduce her generosity, she,
+not without a sigh, made up her mind to give only thirty dollars to each
+of the institutions she had made so many sacrifices to serve. And thus,
+with a reduced platform, as our politicians have it, she set about
+preparing for the grand journey. Regards the most distinguished were
+sent to all the first families; the St. Cecilia had notice of her
+intended absence; no end of tea parties were given in honor of the
+event. Apparently happy with herself, with every one but poor Tom, our
+august lady left in the Steamer one day. With a little of that vanity
+the State deals so largely in, Mrs. Swiggs thought every passenger on
+board wondering and staring at her.
+
+While then she voyages and dreams of the grand reception waiting her in
+New York,--of Sister Slocum's smiles, of the good of the heathen world,
+and of those nice evening gatherings she will enjoy with the pious, let
+us, gentle reader, look in at the house of Absalom McArthur.
+
+To-day Tom Swiggs feels himself free, and it is high noon. Downcast of
+countenance he wends his way along the fashionable side of King-street.
+The young theologian is at his side. George Mullholland has gone to the
+house of Madame Flamingo. He will announce the glad news to Anna. The
+old antiquarian dusts his little counter with a stubby broom, places
+various curiosities in the windows, and about the doors, stands
+contemplating them with an air of satisfaction, then proceeds to drive a
+swarm of flies that hover upon the ceiling, into a curiously-arranged
+trap that he has set.
+
+"What!--my young friend, Tom Swiggs!" exclaims the old man, toddling
+toward Tom, and grasping firmly his hand, as he enters the door. "You
+are welcome to my little place, which shall be a home." Tom hangs down
+his head, receives the old man's greeting with shyness. "Your poor
+father and me, Tom, used to sit here many a time. (The old man points to
+an old sofa.) We were friends. He thought much of me, and I had a high
+opinion of him; and so we used to sit for hours, and talk over the deeds
+of the old continentals. Your mother and him didn't get along over-well
+together; she had more dignity than he could well digest: but that is
+neither here nor there."
+
+"I hope, in time," interrupts Tom, "to repay your kindness. I am willing
+to ply myself to work, though it degrades one in the eyes of our
+society."
+
+"As to that," returns the old man, "why, don't mention it. Maria, you
+know, will be a friend to you. Come away now and see her." And taking
+Tom by the hand, (the theologian has withdrawn,) he becomes
+enthusiastic, leads him through the dark, narrow passage into the back
+parlor, where he is met by Maria, and cordially welcomed. "Why, Tom,
+what a change has come over you," she ejaculates, holding his hand, and
+viewing him with the solicitude of a sister, who hastens to embrace a
+brother returned after a long absence. Letting fall his begrimed hand,
+she draws up the old-fashioned rocking chair, and bids him be seated. He
+shakes his head moodily, says he is not so bad as he seems, and hopes
+yet to make himself worthy of her kindness. He has been the associate of
+criminals; he has suffered punishment; he feels himself loathed by
+society; he cannot divest himself of the odium clinging to his garments.
+Fain would he go to some distant clime, and there seek a refuge from the
+odium of felons.
+
+"Let no such thoughts enter your mind, Tom," says the affectionate girl;
+"divest yourself at once of feelings that can only do you injury. You
+have engaged my thoughts during your troubles. Twice I begged your
+mother to honor me with an interview. We were humble people; she
+condescended at last. But she turned a deaf ear to me when I appealed to
+her for your release, merely inquiring if--like that other jade--I had
+become enamored of--" Maria pauses, blushing.
+
+"I would like to see my mother," interposes Tom.
+
+"Had I belonged to our grand society, the case had been different,"
+resumes Maria.
+
+"Truly, Maria," stammers Tom, "had I supposed there was one in the world
+who cared for me, I had been a better man."
+
+"As to that, why we were brought up together, Tom. We knew each other as
+children, and what else but respect could I have for you? One never
+knows how much others think of them, for the--" Maria blushes, checks
+herself, and watches the changes playing over Tom's countenance. She was
+about to say the tongue of love was too often silent.
+
+It must be acknowledged that Maria had, for years, cherished a passion
+for Tom. He, however, like many others of his class, was too stupid to
+discover it. The girl, too, had been overawed by the dignity of his
+mother. Thus, with feelings of pain did she watch the downward course of
+one in whose welfare she took a deep interest.
+
+"Very often those for whom we cherish the fondest affections, are
+coldest in their demeanor towards us," pursues Maria.
+
+"Can she have thought of me so much as to love me?" Tom questions within
+himself; and Maria put an end to the conversation by ringing the bell,
+commanding the old servant to hasten dinner. A plate must be placed at
+the table for Tom.
+
+The antiquarian, having, as he says, left the young people to
+themselves, stands at his counter furbishing up sundry old engravings,
+horse-pistols, pieces of coat-of-mail, and two large scimitars, all of
+which he has piled together in a heap, and beside which lay several
+chapeaus said to have belonged to distinguished Britishers. Mr. Soloman
+suddenly makes his appearance in the little shop, much to Mr. McArthur's
+surprise. "Say--old man! centurion!" he exclaims, in a maudlin laugh,
+"Keepum's in the straps--is, I do declare; Gadsden and he bought a lot
+of niggers--a monster drove of 'em, on shares. He wants that trifle of
+borrowed money--must have it. Can have it back in a few days."
+
+"Bless me," interrupts the old man, confusedly, "but off my little
+things it will be hard to raise it. Times is hard, our people go, like
+geese, to the North. They get rid of all their money there, and their
+fancy--you know that, Mr. Snivel--is abroad, while they have, for home,
+only a love to keep up slavery."
+
+"I thought it would come to that," says Mr. Snivel, facetiously. The
+antiquarian seems bewildered, commences offering excuses that rather
+involve himself deeper, and finally concludes by pleading for a delay.
+Scarce any one would have thought a person of Mr. McArthur's position,
+indebted to Mr. Keepum; but so it was. It is very difficult to tell
+whose negroes are not mortgaged to Mr. Keepum, how many mortgages of
+plantation he has foreclosed, how many high old families he has reduced
+to abject poverty, or how many poor but respectable families he has
+disgraced. He has a reputation for loaning money to parents, that he may
+rob their daughters of that jewel the world refuses to give them back.
+And yet our best society honor him, fawn over him, and bow to him. We so
+worship the god of slavery, that our minds are become debased, and yet
+we seem unconscious of it. Mr. Keepum did not lend money to the old
+antiquarian without a purpose. That purpose, that justice which
+accommodates itself to the popular voice, will aid him in gaining.
+
+Mr. Snivel affects a tone of moderation, whispers in the old man's ear,
+and says: "Mind you tell the fortune of this girl, Bonard, as I have
+directed. Study what I have told you. If she be not the child of Madame
+Montford, then no faith can be put in likenesses. I have got in my
+possession what goes far to strengthen the suspicions now rife
+concerning the fashionable New Yorker."
+
+"There surely is a mystery about this woman, Mr. Snivel, as you say. She
+has so many times looked in here to inquire about Mag Munday, a woman in
+a curious line of life who came here, got down in the world, as they all
+do, and used now and then to get the loan of a trifle from me to keep
+her from starvation." (Mr. Snivel says, in parentheses, he knows all
+about her.)
+
+"Ha! ha! my old boy," says Mr. Snivel, frisking his fingers through his
+light Saxon beard, "I have had this case in hand for some time. It is
+strictly a private matter, nevertheless. They are a bad lot--them New
+Yorkers, who come here to avoid their little delicate affairs. I may yet
+make a good thing out of this, though. As for that fellow, Mullholland,
+I intend getting him the whipping post. He is come to be the associate
+of gentlemen; men high in office shower upon him their favors. It is all
+to propitiate the friendship of Bonard--I know it." Mr. Snivel concludes
+hurriedly, and departs into the street, as our scene changes.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+ANNA BONARD SEEKS AN INTERVIEW WITH THE ANTIQUARY.
+
+
+It is night. King street seems in a melancholy mood, the blue arch of
+heaven is bespangled with twinkling stars, the moon has mounted her high
+throne, and her beams, like messengers of love, dance joyously over the
+calm waters of the bay, so serenely skirted with dark woodland. The dull
+tramp of the guardman's horse now breaks the stillness; then the
+measured tread of the heavily-armed patrol, with which the city swarms
+at night, echoes and re-echoes along the narrow streets. A theatre
+reeking with the fumes of whiskey and tobacco; a sombre-looking
+guard-house, bristling with armed men, who usher forth to guard the
+fears of tyranny, or drag in some wretched slave; a dilapidated "Court
+House," at the corner, at which lazy-looking men lounge; a castellated
+"Work House," so grand without, and so full of bleeding hearts within; a
+"Poor House" on crutches, and in which infirm age and poverty die of
+treatment that makes the heart sicken--these are all the public
+buildings we can boast. Like ominous mounds, they seem sleeping in the
+calm and serene night. Ah! we had almost forgotten the sympathetic old
+hospital, with its verandas; the crabbed looking "City Hall," with its
+port holes; and the "Citadel," in which, when our youths have learned to
+fight duels, we learn them how to fight their way out of the Union.
+Duelling is our high art; getting out of the Union is our low. And, too,
+we have, and make no small boast that we have, two or three buildings
+called "Halls." In these our own supper-eating men riot, our soldiers
+drill (soldiering is our presiding genius), and our mob-politicians
+waste their spleen against the North. Unlike Boston, towering all bright
+and vigorous in the atmosphere of freedom, we have no galleries of
+statuary; no conservatories of paintings; no massive edifices of marble,
+dedicated to art and science; no princely school-houses, radiating their
+light of learning over a peace and justice-loving community; no majestic
+exchange, of granite and polished marble, so emblematic of a thrifty
+commerce;--we have no regal "State House" on the lofty hill, no
+glittering colleges everywhere striking the eye. The god of slavery--the
+god we worship, has no use for such temples; public libraries are his
+prison; his civilization is like a dull dead march; he is the enemy of
+his own heart, vitiating and making drear whatever he touches. He wages
+war on art, science, civilization! he trembles at the sight of temples
+reared for the enlightening of the masses. Tyranny is his law, a
+cotton-bag his judgment-seat. But we pride ourselves that we are a
+respectable people--what more would you have us?
+
+The night is chilly without, in the fireplace of the antiquary's back
+parlor there burns a scanty wood fire. Tom has eaten his supper and
+retired to a little closet-like room overhead, where, in bed, he muses
+over what fell from Maria's lips, in their interview. Did she really
+cherish a passion for him? had her solicitude in years past something
+more than friendship in it? what did she mean? He was not one of those
+whose place in a woman's heart could never be supplied. How would an
+alliance with Maria affect his mother's dignity? All these things Tom
+evolves over and over in his mind. In point of position, a mechanic's
+daughter was not far removed from the slave; a mechanic's daughter was
+viewed only as a good object of seduction for some nice young gentleman.
+Antiquarians might get a few bows of planter's sons, the legal gentry,
+and cotton brokers (these make up our aristocracy), but practically no
+one would think of admitting them into decent society. They, of right,
+belong to that vulgar herd that live by labor at which the slave can be
+employed. To be anything in the eyes of good society, you must only live
+upon the earnings of slaves.
+
+"Why," says Tom, "should I consult the dignity of a mother who discards
+me? The love of this lone daughter of the antiquary, this girl who
+strives to know my wants, and to promote my welfare, rises superior to
+all. I will away with such thoughts! I will be a man!" Maria, with eager
+eye and thoughtful countenance, sits at the little antique centre-table,
+reading Longfellow's Evangeline, by the pale light of a candle. A lurid
+glare is shed over the cavern-like place. The reflection plays curiously
+upon the corrugated features of the old man, who, his favorite cat at
+his side, reclines on a stubby little sofa, drawn well up to the fire.
+The poet would not select Maria as his ideal of female loveliness; and
+yet there is a touching modesty in her demeanor, a sweet smile ever
+playing over her countenance, an artlessness in her conversation that
+more than makes up for the want of those charms novel writers are
+pleased to call transcendent. "Father!" she says, pausing, "some one
+knocks at the outer door." The old man starts and listens, then hastens
+to open it. There stands before him the figure of a strange female,
+veiled. "I am glad to find you, old man. Be not suspicious of my coming
+at this hour, for my mission is a strange one." The old man's crooked
+eyes flash, his deep curling lip quivers, his hand vibrates the candle
+he holds before him. "If on a mission to do nobody harm," he responds,
+"then you are welcome." "You will pardon me; I have seen you before. You
+have wished me well," she whispers in a musical voice. Gracefully she
+raises her veil over her Spanish hood, and advances cautiously, as the
+old man closes the door behind her. Then she uncovers her head,
+nervously. The white, jewelled fingers of her right hand, so delicate
+and tapering, wander over and smooth her silky black hair, that falls in
+waves over her Ion-like brow. How exquisite those features just
+revealed; how full of soul those flashing black eyes; her dress, how
+chaste! "They call me Anna Bonard," she speaks, timorously, "you may
+know me?--"
+
+"Oh, I know you well," interrupts the old man, "your beauty has made you
+known. What more would you have?"
+
+"Something that will make me happy. Old man, I am unhappy. Tell me, if
+you have the power, who I am. Am I an orphan, as has been told me; or
+have I parents yet living, affluent, and high in society? Do they seek
+me and cannot find me? Oh! let the fates speak, old man, for this world
+has given me nothing but pain and shame. Am I--" she pauses, her eyes
+wander to the floor, her cheeks crimson, she seizes the old man by the
+hand, and her bosom heaves as if a fierce passion had just been kindled
+within it.
+
+The old man preserves his equanimity, says he has a fortune to tell her.
+Fortunes are best told at midnight. The stars, too, let out their
+secrets more willingly when the night-king rules. He bids her follow
+him, and totters back to the little parlor. With a wise air, he bids her
+be seated on the sofa, saying he never mistakes maidens when they call
+at this hour.
+
+Maria, who rose from the table at the entrance of the stranger, bows,
+shuts her book mechanically, and retires. Can there be another face so
+lovely? she questions within herself, as she pauses to contemplate the
+stranger ere she disappears. The antiquary draws a chair and seats
+himself beside Anna. "Thy life and destiny," he says, fretting his bony
+fingers over the crown of his wig. "Blessed is the will of providence
+that permits us to know the secrets of destiny. Give me your hand, fair
+lady." Like a philosopher in deep study, he wipes and adjusts his
+spectacles, then takes her right hand and commences reading its lines.
+"Your history is an uncommon one--"
+
+"Yes," interrupts the girl, "mine has been a chequered life."
+
+"You have seen sorrow enough, but will see more. You come of good
+parents; but, ah!--there is a mystery shrouding your birth." ("And that
+mystery," interposes the girl, "I want to have explained.") "There will
+come a woman to reclaim you--a woman in high life; but she will come too
+late--" (The girl pales and trembles.) "Yes," pursues the old man,
+looking more studiously at her hand, "she will come too late. You will
+have admirers, and even suitors; but they will only betray you, and in
+the end you will die of trouble. Ah! there is a line that had escaped
+me. You may avert this dark destiny--yes, you may escape the end that
+fate has ordained for you. In neglect you came up, the companion of a
+man you think true to you. But he is not true to you. Watch him, follow
+him--you will yet find him out. Ha! ha! ha! these men are not to be
+trusted, my dear. There is but one man who really loves you. He is an
+old man, a man of station. He is your only true friend. I here see it
+marked." He crosses her hand, and says there can be no mistaking it.
+"With that man, fair girl, you may escape the dark destiny. But, above
+all things, do not treat him coldly. And here I see by the sign that
+Anna Bonard is not your name. The name was given you by a wizard."
+
+"You are right, old man," speaks Anna, raising thoughtfully her great
+black eyes, as the antiquary pauses and watches each change of her
+countenance; "that name was given me by Hag Zogbaum, when I was a child
+in her den, in New York, and when no one cared for me. What my right
+name was has now slipped my memory. I was indeed a wretched child, and
+know little of myself."
+
+"Was it Munday?" inquires the old man. Scarce has he lisped the name
+before she catches it up and repeats it, incoherently, "Munday! Munday!
+Munday!" her eyes flash with anxiety. "Ah, I remember now. I was called
+Anna Munday by Mother Bridges. I lived with her before I got to the den
+of Hag Zogbaum. And Mother Bridges sold apples at a stand at the corner
+of a street, on West street. It seems like a dream to me now. I do not
+want to recall those dark days or my childhood. Have you not some
+revelation to make respecting my parents?" The old man says the signs
+will not aid him further. "On my arm," she pursues, baring her white,
+polished arm, "there is a mark. I know not who imprinted it there. See,
+old man." The old man sees high up on her right arm two hearts and a
+broken anchor, impressed with India ink blue and red. "Yes," repeats the
+antiquary, viewing it studiously, "but it gives out no history. If you
+could remember who put it there." Of that she has no recollection. The
+old man cannot relieve her anxiety, and arranging her hood she bids him
+good night, forces a piece of gold into his hand, and seeks her home,
+disappointed.
+
+The antiquary's predictions were founded on what Mr. Soloman Snivel had
+told him, and that gentleman got what he knew of Anna's history from
+George Mullholland. To this, however, he added what suggestions his
+suspicions gave rise to. The similarity of likeness between Anna and
+Madame Montford was striking; Madame Montford's mysterious searches and
+inquiries for the woman Munday had something of deep import in them. Mag
+Munday's strange disappearance from Charleston, and her previous
+importuning for the old dress left in pawn with McArthur, were not to be
+overlooked. These things taken together, and Mr. Snivel saw a case there
+could be no mistaking. That case became stronger when his fashionable
+friend engaged his services to trace out what had become of the woman
+Mag Munday, and to further ascertain what the girl Anna Bonard knew of
+her own history.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+A SECRET INTERVIEW.
+
+
+While the scene we have related in the foregoing chapter was being
+enacted, there might be seen pacing the great colonnade of the
+Charleston hotel, the tall figure of a man wrapped in a massive talma.
+Heedless of the throng of drinkers gathered in the spacious bar-room,
+making the very air echo with their revelry, he pauses every few
+moments, watches intently up and then down Meeting street, now
+apparently contemplating the twinkling stars, then turning as if
+disappointed, and resuming his sallies. "He will not come to night," he
+mutters, as he pauses at the "Ladies' door," then turns and rings the
+bell. The well-dressed and highly-perfumed servant who guards the door,
+admits him with a scrutinizing eye. "Beg pardon," he says, with a
+mechanical bow. He recognizes the stranger, bows, and motions his hands.
+"Twice," continues the servant, "she has sent a messenger to inquire of
+your coming." The figure in the talma answers with a bow, slips
+something into the hand of the servant, passes softly up the great
+stairs, and is soon lost to sight. In another minute he enters, without
+knocking, a spacious parlor, decorated and furnished most sumptuously.
+"How impatiently I have waited your coming," whispers, cautiously, a
+richly-dressed lady, as she rises from a velvet covered lounge, on which
+she had reclined, and extends her hand to welcome him.
+
+"Madame, your most obedient," returns the man, bowing and holding her
+delicate hand in his. "You have something of importance,--something to
+relieve my mind?" she inquires, watching his lips, trembling, and in
+anxiety. "Nothing definite," he replies, touching her gently on the arm,
+as she begs him to be seated in the great arm-chair. He lays aside his
+talma, places his gloves on the centre-table, which is heaped with an
+infinite variety of delicately-enveloped missives and cards, all
+indicative of her position in fashionable society. "I may say, Madame,
+that I sympathize with you in your anxiety; but as yet I have discovered
+nothing to relieve it." Madame sighs, and draws her chair near him, in
+silence. "That she is the woman you seek I cannot doubt. While on the
+Neck, I penetrated the shanty of one Thompson, a poor mechanic--our
+white mechanics, you see, are very poor, and not much thought of--who
+had known her, given her a shelter, and several times saved her from
+starvation. Then she left the neighborhood and took to living with a
+poor wretch of a shoemaker."
+
+"Poor creature," interrupts Madame Montford, for it is she whom Mr.
+Snivel addresses. "If she be dead--oh, dear! That will be the end. I
+never shall know what became of that child. And to die ignorant of its
+fate will--" Madame pauses, her color changes, she seems seized with
+some violent emotion. Mr. Snivel perceives her agitation, and begs she
+will remain calm. "If that child had been my own," she resumes, "the
+responsibility had not weighed heavier on my conscience. Wealth,
+position, the pleasures of society--all sink into insignificance when
+compared with my anxiety for the fate of that child. It is like an arrow
+piercing my heart, like a phantom haunting me in my dreams, like an
+evil spirit waking me at night to tell me I shall die an unhappy woman
+for having neglected one I was bound by the commands of God to
+protect--to save, perhaps, from a life of shame." She lets fall the
+satin folds of her dress, buries her face in her hands, and gives vent
+to her tears in loud sobs. Mr. Snivel contemplates her agitation with
+unmoved muscle. To him it is a true index to the sequel. "If you will
+pardon me, Madame," he continues, "as I was about to say of this
+miserable shoemaker, he took to drink, as all our white mechanics do,
+and then used to abuse her. We don't think anything of these people, you
+see, who after giving themselves up to whiskey, die in the poor house, a
+terrible death. This shoemaker, of whom I speak, died, and she was
+turned into the streets by her landlord, and that sent her to living
+with a 'yellow fellow,' as we call them. Soon after this she died--so
+report has it. We never know much, you see, about these common people.
+They are a sort of trash we can make nothing of, and they get terribly
+low now and then." Madame Montford's swelling breast heaves, her
+countenance wears an air of melancholy; again she nervously lays aside
+the cloud-like skirts of her brocade dress. "Have you not," she
+inquires, fretting her jewelled fingers and displaying the massive gold
+bracelets that clasp her wrists, "some stronger evidence of her death?"
+Mr. Snivel says he has none but what he gathered from the negroes and
+poor mechanics, who live in the by-lanes of the city. There is little
+dependence, however, to be placed in such reports. Madame, with an air
+of composure, rises from her chair, and paces twice or thrice across the
+room, seemingly in deep study. "Something," she speaks, stopping
+suddenly in one of her sallies--"something (I do not know what it is)
+tells me she yet lives: that this is the child we see, living an
+abandoned life."
+
+"As I was going on to say, Madame," pursues Mr. Snivel, with great
+blandness of manner, "when our white trash get to living with our
+negroes they are as well as dead. One never knows what comes of them
+after that. Being always ready to do a bit of a good turn, as you know,
+I looked in at Sam Wiley's cabin. Sam Wiley is a negro of some
+respectability, and generally has an eye to what becomes of these white
+wretches. I don't--I assure you I don't, Madame--look into these places
+except on professional business. Sam, after making inquiry among his
+neighbors--our colored population view these people with no very good
+opinion, when they get down in the world--said he thought she had found
+her way through the gates of the poor man's graveyard."
+
+"Poor man's graveyard!" repeats Madame Montford, again resuming her
+chair.
+
+"Exactly! We have to distinguish between people of position and those
+white mechanics who come here from the North, get down in the world, and
+then die. We can't sell this sort of people, you see. No keeping their
+morals straight without you can. However, this is not to the point. (Mr.
+Solomon Snivel keeps his eyes intently fixed upon the lady.)
+
+"I sought out the old Sexton, a stupid old cove enough. He had neither
+names on his record nor graves that answered the purpose. In a legal
+sense, Madame, this would not be valid testimony, for this old cove
+being only too glad to get rid of our poor, and the fees into his
+pocket, is not very particular about names. If it were one of our
+'first families,' the old fellow would be so obsequious about having the
+name down square--"
+
+Mr. Snivel frets his fingers through his beard, and bows with an easy
+grace.
+
+"Our first families!" repeats Madame Montford.
+
+"Yes, indeed! He is extremely correct over their funerals. They are of a
+fashionable sort, you see. Well, while I was musing over the decaying
+dead, and the distinction between poor dead and rich dead, there came
+along one Graves, a sort of wayward, half simpleton, who goes about
+among churchyards, makes graves a study, knows where every one who has
+died for the last century is tucked away, and is worth six sextons at
+pointing out graves. He never knows anything about the living, for the
+living, he says, won't let him live; and that being the case, he only
+wants to keep up his acquaintance with the dead. He never has a hat to
+his head, nor a shoe to his foot; and where, and how he lives, no one
+can tell. He has been at the whipping-post a dozen times or more, but
+I'm not so sure that the poor wretch ever did anything to merit such
+punishment. Just as the crabbed old sexton was going to drive him out of
+the gate with a big stick, I says, more in the way of a joke than
+anything else: 'Graves, come here!--I want a word or two with you.' He
+came up, looking shy and suspicious, and saying he wasn't going to harm
+anybody, but there was some fresh graves he was thinking over."
+
+"Some fresh graves!" repeats Madame Montford, nervously.
+
+"Bless you!--a very common thing," rejoins Mr. Snivel, with a bow.
+"Well, this lean simpleton said they (the graves) were made while he was
+sick. That being the case, he was deprived--and he lamented it
+bitterly--of being present at the funerals, and getting the names of the
+deceased. He is a great favorite with the grave-digger, lends him a
+willing hand on all occasions, and is extremely useful when the yellow
+fever rages. But to the sexton he is a perfect pest, for if a grave be
+made during his absence he will importune until he get the name of the
+departed. 'Graves,' says I, 'where do they bury these unfortunate women
+who die off so, here in Charleston?' 'Bless you, my friend,' says
+Graves, accompanying his words with an idiotic laugh, 'why, there's
+three stacks of them, yonder. They ship them from New York in lots, poor
+things; they dies here in droves, poor things; and we buries them yonder
+in piles, poor things. They go--yes, sir, I have thought a deal of this
+thing--fast through life; but they dies, and nobody cares for them--you
+see how they are buried.' I inquired if he knew all their names. He said
+of course he did. If he didn't, nobody else would. In order to try him,
+I desired he would show me the grave of Mag Munday. He shook his head
+smiled, muttered the name incoherently, and said he thought it sounded
+like a dead name. 'I'll get my thinking right,' he pursued, and
+brightening up all at once, his vacant eyes flashed, then he touched me
+cunningly on the arm, and with a wink and nod of the head there was no
+mistaking, led the way to a great mound located in an obscure part of
+the graveyard--"
+
+"A great mound! I thought it would come to that," sighs Madame Montford,
+impatiently.
+
+"We bury these wretched creatures in an obscure place. Indeed, Madame, I
+hold it unnecessary to have anything to distinguish them when once they
+are dead. Well, this poor forlorn simpleton then sat down on a grave,
+and bid me sit beside him. I did as he bid me, and soon he went into a
+deep study, muttering the name of Mag Munday the while, until I thought
+he never would stop. So wild and wandering did the poor fellow seem,
+that I began to think it a pity we had not a place, an insane hospital,
+or some sort of benevolent institution, where such poor creatures could
+be placed and cared for. It would be much better than sending them to
+the whipping-post--"
+
+"I am indeed of your opinion--of your way of thinking most certainly,"
+interpolates Madame Montford, a shadow of melancholy darkening her
+countenance.
+
+"At length, he went at it, and repeated over an infinite quantity of
+names. It was wonderful to see how he could keep them all in his head.
+'Well, now,' says he, turning to me with an inoffensive laugh, 'she
+ben't dead. You may bet on that. There now!' he spoke, as if suddenly
+becoming conscious of a recently-made discovery. 'Why, she runned wild
+about here, as I does, for a time; was abused and knocked about by
+everybody. Oh, she had a hard time enough, God knows that.' 'But that is
+not disclosing to me what became of her,' says I; 'come, be serious,
+Graves.' (We call him this, you see, Madame, for the reason that he is
+always among graveyards.) Then he went into a singing mood, sang two
+plaintive songs, and had sung a third and fourth, if I had not stopped
+him. 'Well,' he says, 'that woman ain't dead, for I've called up in my
+mind the whole graveyard of names, and her's is not among them. Why not,
+good gentleman, (he seized me by the arm as he said this,) inquire of
+Milman Mingle, the vote-cribber? He is a great politician, never thinks
+of poor Graves, and wouldn't look into a graveyard for the world. The
+vote-cribber used to live with her, and several times he threatened to
+hang her, and would a hanged her--yes, he would, sir--if it hadn't a
+been for the neighbors. I don't take much interest in the living, you
+know. But I pitied her, poor thing, for she was to be pitied, and there
+was nobody but me to do it. Just inquire of the vote-cribber.' I knew
+the simpleton never told an untruth, being in no way connected with our
+political parties."
+
+"Never told an untruth, being in no way connected with our political
+parties!" repeats Madame Montford, who has become more calm.
+
+"I gave him a few shillings, he followed me to the gate, and left me
+muttering, 'Go, inquire of the vote-cribber.'"
+
+"And have you found this man?" inquires the anxious lady.
+
+"I forthwith set about it," replies Mr. Snivel, "but as yet, am
+unsuccessful. Nine months during the year his residence is the jail--"
+
+"The jail!"
+
+"Yes, Madame, the jail. His profession, although essential to the
+elevation of our politicians and statesmen, is nevertheless unlawful.
+And he being obliged to practice it in opposition to the law, quietly
+submits to the penalty, which is a residence in the old prison for a
+short time. It's a nominal thing, you see, and he has become so
+habituated to it that I am inclined to the belief that he prefers it. I
+proceeded to the prison and found he had been released. One of our
+elections comes off in a few days. The approach of such an event is sure
+to find him at large. I sought him in all the drinking saloons, in the
+gambling dens, in the haunts of prostitution--in all the low places
+where our great politicians most do assemble and debauch themselves. He
+was not to be found. Being of the opposite party, I despatched a spy to
+the haunt of the committee of the party to which he belongs, and for
+which he cribs. I have paced the colonnade for more than an hour,
+waiting the coming of this spy. He did not return, and knowing your
+anxiety in the matter I returned to you. To-morrow I will seek him out;
+to-morrow I will get from him what he knows of this woman you seek.
+
+"And now, Madame, here is something I would have you examine." (Mr.
+Snivel methodically says he got it of McArthur, the antiquary.) "She
+made a great ado about a dress that contained this letter. I have no
+doubt it will tell a tale." Mr. Snivel draws from his breast-pocket the
+letter found concealed in the old dress, and passes it to Madame
+Montford, who receives it with a nervous hand. Her eyes become fixed
+upon it, she glances over its defaced page with an air of bewilderment,
+her face crimsons, then suddenly pales, her lips quiver--her every nerve
+seems unbending to the shock. "Heavens! has it come to this?" she
+mutters, confusedly. Her strength fails her; the familiar letter falls
+from her fingers.--For a few moments she seems struggling to suppress
+her emotions, but her reeling brain yields, her features become like
+marble, she shrieks and swoons ere Mr. Snivel has time to clasp her in
+his arms.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+LADY SWIGGS ENCOUNTERS DIFFICULTIES ON HER ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK.
+
+
+A pleasant passage of sixty hours, a good shaking up at the hands of
+that old tyrant, sea-sickness, and Lady Swiggs finds the steamer on
+which she took passage gliding majestically up New York Bay. There she
+sits, in all her dignity, an embodiment of our decayed chivalry, a fair
+representative of our first families. She has taken up her position on
+the upper deck, in front of the wheel house. As one after another the
+objects of beauty that make grand the environs of that noble Bay, open
+to her astonished eyes, she contrasts them favorably or unfavorably with
+some familiar object in Charleston harbor. There is indeed a similarity
+in the conformation. And though ours, she says, may not be so extensive,
+nor so grand in its outlines, nor so calm and soft in its perspective,
+there is a more aristocratic air about it. Smaller bodies are always
+more select and respectable. The captain, to whom she has put an hundred
+and one questions which he answers in monosyllables, is not, she thinks,
+so much of a gentleman as he might have been had he been educated in
+Charleston. He makes no distinction in favor of people of rank.
+
+Lady Swiggs wears that same faded silk dress; her black crape bonnet,
+with two saucy red artificial flowers tucked in at the side, sits so
+jauntily; that dash of brown hair is smoothed so exactly over her
+yellow, shrivelled forehead; her lower jaw oscillates with increased
+motion; and her sharp, gray eyes, as before, peer anxiously through her
+great-eyed spectacles. And, generous reader, that you may not mistake
+her, she has brought her inseparable Milton, which she holds firmly
+grasped in her right hand. "You have had a tedious time of it, Madam,"
+says a corpulent lady, who is extensively dressed and jewelled, and
+accosts her with a familiar air. Lady Swiggs says not so tedious as it
+might have been, and gives her head two or three very fashionable
+twitches.
+
+"Your name, if you please?"
+
+"The Princess Grouski. My husband, the Prince Grouski," replies the
+corpulent lady, turning and introducing a fair-haired gentleman, tall
+and straight of person, somewhat military in his movements, and
+extremely fond of fingering his long, Saxon moustache. Lady Swiggs, on
+the announcement of a princess, rises suddenly to her feet, and
+commences an unlimited number of courtesies. She is, indeed, most happy
+to meet, and have the honor of being fellow-voyager with their Royal
+Highnesses--will remember it as being one of the happiest events of her
+life,--and begs to assure them of her high esteem. The corpulent lady
+gives her a delicate card, on which is described the crown of Poland,
+and beneath, in exact letters, "The Prince and Princess Grouski." The
+Prince affects not to understand English, which Lady Swiggs regrets
+exceedingly, inasmuch as it deprives her of an interesting conversation
+with a person of royal blood. The card she places carefully between the
+leaves of her Milton, having first contemplated it with an air of
+exultation. Again begging to thank the Prince and Princess for this
+mark of their distinguished consideration, Lady Swiggs inquires if they
+ever met or heard of Sir Sunderland Swiggs. The rotund lady, for herself
+and the prince, replies in the negative. "He was," she pursues, with a
+sigh of disappointment, "he was very distinguished, in his day. Yes, and
+I am his lineal descendant. Your highnesses visited Charleston, of
+course?"
+
+"O dear," replies the rotund lady, somewhat laconically, "the happiest
+days of my life were spent among the chivalry of South Carolina. Indeed,
+Madam, I have received the attention and honors of the very first
+families in that State."
+
+This exclamation sets the venerable lady to thinking how it could be
+possible that their highnesses received the attentions of the first
+families and she not know it. No great persons ever visited the United
+States without honoring Charleston with their presence, it was true; but
+how in the world did it happen that she was kept in ignorance of such an
+event as that of the Prince and Princess paying it a visit. She began to
+doubt the friendship of her distinguished acquaintances, and the St.
+Cecilia Society. She hopes that should they condescend to pay the United
+States a second visit, they will remember her address. This the rotund
+lady, who is no less a person than the distinguished Madame Flamingo,
+begs to assure her she will.
+
+Let not this happy union between Grouski and the old hostess, surprise
+you, gentle reader. It was brought about by Mr. Snivel, the
+accommodation man, who, as you have before seen, is always ready to do a
+bit of a good turn. Being a skilful diplomatist in such matters, he
+organized the convention, superintended the wooing, and for a lusty
+share of the spoils, secured to him by Grouski, brought matters to an
+issue "highly acceptable" to all parties. A sale of her palace of
+licentiousness, works of art, costly furniture, and female wares,
+together with the good will of all concerned, (her friends of the "bench
+and bar" not excepted,) was made for the nice little sum of sixty-seven
+thousand dollars, to Madame Grace Ashley, whose inauguration was one of
+the most gorgeous _fetes_ the history of Charleston can boast. The new
+occupant was a novice. She had not sufficient funds to pay ready money
+for the purchase, hence Mr. Doorwood, a chivalric and very excellent
+gentleman, according to report, supplies the necessary, taking a
+mortgage on the institution; which proves to be quite as good property
+as the Bank, of which he is president. It is not, however, just that
+sort of business upon which an already seared conscience can repose in
+quiet, hence he applies that antidote too frequently used by knaves--he
+never lets a Sunday pass without piously attending church.
+
+The money thus got, through this long life of iniquity, was by Madame
+Flamingo handed over to the Prince, in exchange for his heart and the
+title she had been deluded to believe him capable of conferring. Her
+reverence for Princes and exiled heroes, (who are generally exiled
+humbugs,) was not one jot less than that so pitiably exhibited by our
+self-dubbed fashionable society all over this Union. It may be well to
+add, that this distinguished couple, all smiling and loving, are on
+their way to Europe, where they are sure of receiving the attentions of
+any quantity of "crowned heads." Mr. Snivel, in order not to let the
+affair lack that _eclat_ which is the crowning point in matters of high
+life, got smuggled into the columns of the highly respectable and very
+authentic old "Courier," a line or two, in which the fashionable world
+was thrown into a flutter by the announcement that Prince Grouski and
+his wealthy bride left yesterday, _en route_ for Europe. This bit of
+gossip the "New York Herald" caught up and duly itemised, for the
+benefit of its upper-ten readers, who, as may be easily imagined, were
+all on tip-toe to know the address of visitors so distinguished, and
+leave cards.
+
+Mrs. Swiggs has (we must return to her mission) scarcely set foot on
+shore, when, thanks to a little-headed corporation, she is fairly set
+upon by a dozen or more villanous hack-drivers, each dangling his whip
+in her face, to the no small danger of her bonnet and spectacles. They
+jostle her, utter vile imprecations, dispute for the right of carrying
+her, each in his turn offering to do it a shilling less. Lady Swiggs is
+indeed an important individual in the hands of the hack-drivers, and by
+them, in a fair way of being torn to pieces. She wonders they do not
+recognize her as a distinguished person, from the chivalric State of
+South Carolina. The captain is engaged with his ship, passengers are
+hurrying ashore, too anxious to escape the confinement of the cabin;
+every one seems in haste to leave her, no one offers to protect her from
+the clutches of those who threaten to tear her into precious pieces. She
+sighs for Sister Slocum, for Mr. Hadger, for any one kind enough to
+raise a friendly voice in her behalf. Now one has got her black box,
+another her corpulent carpet-bag--a third exults in a victory over her
+band-box. Fain would she give up her mission in disgust, return to the
+more aristocratic atmosphere of Charleston, and leave the heathen to his
+fate. All this might have been avoided had Sister Slocum sent her
+carriage. She will stick by her black-box, nevertheless. So into the
+carriage with it she gets, much discomfited. The driver says he would
+drive to the Mayor's office "and 'ave them ar two coves what's got the
+corpulent carpet-bag and the band-box, seed after, if it wern't that His
+Honor never knows anything he ought to know, and is sure to do nothing.
+They'll turn up, Mam, I don't doubt," says the man, "but it's next to
+los'in' on 'em, to go to the Mayor's office. Our whole corporation, Mam,
+don't do nothin' but eats oysters, drinks whiskey, and makes
+presidents;--them's what they do, Marm." Lady Swiggs says what a pity so
+great a city was not blessed with a bigger-headed corporation.
+
+"That it is, Marm," returns the methodical hack-driver, "he an't got a
+very big head, our corporation." And Lady Swiggs, deprived of her
+carpet-bag and band-box, and considerably out of patience, is rolled
+away to the mansion of Sister Slocum, on Fourth Avenue. Instead of
+falling immediately into the arms and affections of that worthy and very
+enterprising lady, the door is opened by a slatternly maid of all
+work--her greasy dress, and hard, ruddy face and hands--her short,
+flabby figure, and her coarse, uncombed hair, giving out strong evidence
+of being overtaxed with labor. "Is it Mrs. Slocum hersel' ye'd be
+seein'?" inquires the maid, wiping her soapy hands with her apron, and
+looking querulously in the face of the old lady, who, with the air of a
+Scotch metaphysician, says she is come to spend a week in friendly
+communion with her, to talk over the cause of the poor, benighted
+heathen. "Troth an' I'm not as sure ye'll do that same, onyhow; sure
+she'd not spend a week at home in the blessed year; and the divil
+another help in the house but mysel' and himsel', Mr. Slocum. A decent
+man is that same Slocum, too," pursues the maid, with a laconic
+indifference to the wants of the guest. A dusty hat-stand ornaments one
+side of the hall, a patched and somewhat deformed sofa the other. The
+walls wear a dingy air; the fumes of soapsuds and stewed onions offend
+the senses. Mrs. Swiggs hesitates in the doorway. Shall I advance, or
+retreat to more congenial quarters? she asks herself. The wily
+hack-driver (he agreed for four and charged her twelve shillings) leaves
+her black box on the step and drives away. She may be thankful he did
+not charge her twenty. They make no allowance for distinguished people;
+Lady Swiggs learns this fact, to her great annoyance. To the
+much-confused maid of all work she commences relating the loss of her
+luggage. With one hand swinging the door and the other tucked under her
+dowdy apron, she says, "Troth, Mam, and ye ought to be thankful, for the
+like of that's done every day."
+
+Mrs. Swiggs would like a room for the night at least, but is told, in a
+somewhat confused style, that not a room in the house is in order. That
+a person having the whole heathen world on her shoulders should not have
+her house in order somewhat surprises the indomitable lady. In answer to
+a question as to what time Mr. Slocum will be home, the maid of all work
+says: "Och! God love the poor man, there's no tellin'. Sure there's not
+much left of the poor man. An' the divil a one more inoffensive than
+poor Slocum. It's himsel' works all day in the Shurance office beyant.
+He comes home dragged out, does a dale of writing for Mrs. Slocum
+hersel', and goes to bed sayin' nothin' to nobody." Lady Swiggs says:
+"God bless me He no doubt labors in a good cause--an excellent
+cause--he will have his reward hereafter."
+
+It must here be confessed that Sister Slocum, having on hand a
+newly-married couple, nicely suited to the duties of a mission to some
+foreign land, has conceived the very laudable project of sending them to
+Aleppo, and is now spending a few weeks among the Dutch of Albany, who
+are expected to contribute the necessary funds. A few thousand dollars
+expended, a few years' residence in the East, a few reports as to what
+might have been done if something had not interposed to prevent it, and
+there is not a doubt that this happy couple will return home crowned
+with the laurels of having very nearly Christianized one Turk and two
+Tartars.
+
+The maid of all work suddenly remembers that Mrs. Slocum left word that
+if a distinguished lady arrived from South Carolina she could be
+comfortably accommodated at Sister Scudder's, on Fourth Street. Not a
+little disappointed, the venerable old lady calls a passing carriage,
+gets herself and black box into it, and orders the driver to forthwith
+proceed to the house of Sister Scudder. Here she is--and she sheds tears
+that she is--cooped up in a cold, closet-like room, on the third story,
+where, with the ends of her red shawl, she may blow and warm her
+fingers. Sister Scudder is a crispy little body, in spectacles. Her
+features are extremely sharp, and her countenance continually wears a
+wise expression. As for her knowledge of scripture, it is truly
+wonderful, and a decided improvement when contrasted with the meagre
+set-out of her table. Tea time having arrived, Lady Swiggs is invited
+down to a cup by a pert Irish servant, who accosts her with an
+independence she by no means approves. Entering the room with an air of
+stateliness she deems necessary to the position she desires to maintain,
+Sister Scudder takes her by the hand and introduces her to a bevy of
+nicely-conditioned, and sleek-looking gentlemen, whose exactly-combed
+mutton chop whiskers, smoothly-oiled hair, perfectly-tied white cravats,
+cloth so modest and fashionable, and mild, studious countenances,
+discover their profession. Sister Scudder, motioning Lady Swiggs aside,
+whispers in her ear: "They are all very excellent young men. They will
+improve on acquaintance. They are come up for the clergy." They, in
+turn, receive the distinguished stranger in a manner that is rather
+abrupt than cold, and ere she has dispensed her stately courtesy, say;
+"how do you do marm," and turn to resume with one another their
+conversation on the wicked world. It is somewhat curious to see how much
+more interested these gentry become in the wicked world when it is afar
+off.
+
+Tea very weak, butter very strong, toast very thin, and religious
+conversation extremely thick, make up the repast. There is no want of
+appetite. Indeed one might, under different circumstances, have imagined
+Sister Scudder's clerical boarders contesting a race for an extra slice
+of her very thin toast. Not the least prominent among Sister Scudder's
+boarders is Brother Singleton Spyke, whom Mrs. Swiggs recognizes by the
+many compliments he lavishes upon Sister Slocum, whose absence is a
+source of great regret with him. She is always elbow deep in some
+laudable pursuit. Her presence sheds a radiant light over everything
+around; everybody mourns her when absent. Nevertheless, there is some
+satisfaction in knowing that her absence is caused by her anxiety to
+promote some mission of good: Brother Spyke thus muses. Seeing that
+there is come among them a distinguished stranger, he gives out that
+to-morrow evening there will be a gathering of the brethren at the
+"House of the Foreign Missions," when the very important subject of
+funds necessary to his mission to Antioch, will be discussed. Brother
+Spyke, having levelled this battery at the susceptibility of Mrs.
+Swiggs, is delighted to find some fourteen voices chiming in--all
+complimenting his peculiar fitness for, and the worthy object of the
+mission. Mrs. Swiggs sets her cup in her saucer, and in a becoming
+manner, to the great joy of all present, commences an eulogium on Mr.
+Spyke. Sister Slocum, in her letters, held him before her in strong
+colors; spoke in such high praise of his talent, and gave so many
+guarantees as to what he would do if he only got among the heathen, that
+her sympathies were enlisted--she resolved to lose no time in getting to
+New York, and, when there, put her shoulder right manfully to the wheel.
+This declaration finds her, as if by some mysterious transport, an
+object of no end of praise. Sister Scudder adjusts her spectacles, and,
+in mildest accents, says, "The Lord will indeed reward such
+disinterestedness." Brother Mansfield says motives so pure will ensure a
+passport to heaven, he is sure. Brother Sharp, an exceedingly lean and
+tall youth, with a narrow head and sharp nose (Mr. Sharp's father
+declared he made him a preacher because he could make him nothing else),
+pronounces, with great emphasis, that such self-sacrifice should be
+written in letters of gold. A unanimous sounding of her praises
+convinces Mrs. Swiggs that she is indeed a person of great importance.
+There is, however, a certain roughness of manner about her new friends,
+which does not harmonize with her notions of aristocracy. She questions
+within herself whether they represent the "first families" of New York.
+If the "first families" could only get their heads together, the heathen
+world would be sure to knock under. No doubt, it can be effected in time
+by common people. If Sister Slocum, too, would evangelize the world--if
+she would give the light of heaven to the benighted, she must employ
+willing hearts and strong hands. Satan, she says, may be chained,
+subdued, and made to abjure his wickedness. These cheering
+contemplations more than atone for the cold reception she met at the
+house of Sister Slocum. Her only regret now is that she did not sell old
+Cicero. The money so got would have enabled her to bestow a more
+substantial token of her soul's sincerity.
+
+Tea over, thanks returned, a prayer offered up, and Brother Spyke,
+having taken a seat on the sofa beside Mrs. Swiggs, opens his batteries
+in a spiritual conversation, which he now and then spices with a few
+items of his own history. At the age of fifteen he found himself in love
+with a beautiful young lady, who, unfortunately, had made up her mind to
+accept only the hand of a clergyman: hence, she rejected his. This so
+disturbed his thoughts, that he resolved on studying theology. In this
+he was aided by the singular discovery, that he had a talent, and a
+"call to preach." He would forget his amour, he thought, become a member
+of the clergy, and go preach to the heathen. He spent his days in
+reading, his nights in the study of divine truths. Then he got on the
+kind side of a committee of very excellent ladies, who, having duly
+considered his qualities, pronounced him exactly suited to the study of
+theology. Ladies were generally good judges of such matters, and Brother
+Spyke felt he could not do better than act up to their opinions. To all
+these things Mrs. Swiggs listens with delight.
+
+Spyke, too, is in every way a well made-up man, being extremely tall and
+lean of figure, with nice Saxon hair and whiskers, mild but thoughtful
+blue eyes, an anxious expression of countenance, a thin, squeaking
+voice, and features sufficiently delicate and regular for his calling.
+His dress, too, is always exactly clerical. If he be cold and pedantic
+in his manner, the fault must be set down to the errors of the
+profession, rather than to any natural inclination of his own. But what
+is singular of Brother Spyke is, that, notwithstanding his passion for
+delving the heathen world, and dragging into Christian light and love
+the benighted wretches there found, he has never in his life given a
+thought for that heathen world at his own door--a heathen world sinking
+in the blackest pool of misery and death, in the very heart of an
+opulent city, over which it hurls its seething pestilence, and scoffs at
+the commands of high heaven. No, he never thought of that Babylon of
+vice and crime--that heathen world pleading with open jaws at his own
+door. He had no thought for how much money might be saved, and how much
+more good done, did he but turn his eyes; go into this dark world (the
+Points) pleading at his feet, nerve himself to action, and lend a strong
+hand to help drag off the film of its degradation. In addition to this,
+Brother Spyke was sharp enough to discover the fact that a country
+parson does not enjoy the most enviable situation. A country parson must
+put up with the smallest salary; he must preach the very best of
+sermons; he must flatter and flirt with all the marriageable ladies of
+his church; he must consult the tastes, but offend none of the old
+ladies; he must submit to have the sermon he strained his brain to make
+perfect, torn to pieces by a dozen wise old women, who claim the right
+of carrying the church on their shoulders; he must have dictated to him
+what sort of dame he may take for wife;--in a word, he must bear meekly
+a deal of pestering and starvation, or be in bad odor with the senior
+members of the sewing circle. Duly appreciating all these difficulties,
+Brother Spyke chose a mission to Antioch, where the field of his labors
+would be wide, and the gates not open to restraints. And though he could
+not define the exact character of his mission to Antioch, he so worked
+upon the sympathies of the credulous old lady, as to well-nigh create in
+her mind a resolve to give the amount she had struggled to get and set
+apart for the benefit of those two institutions ("the Tract Society,"
+and "The Home of the Foreign Missions"), all to the getting himself off
+to Antioch.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+MR. SNIVEL PURSUES HIS SEARCH FOR THE VOTE-CRIBBER.
+
+
+While Mrs. Swiggs is being entertained by Sister Scudder and her
+clerical friends in New York, Mr. Snivel is making good his demand on
+her property in Charleston. As the agent of Keepum, he has attached her
+old slaves, and what few pieces of furniture he could find; they will in
+a few days be sold for the satisfaction of her debts. Mrs. Swiggs, it
+must be said, never had any very nice appreciation of debt-paying,
+holding it much more legitimate that her creditors accept her dignity in
+satisfaction of any demand they chanced to have against her. As for her
+little old house, the last abode of the last of the great Swiggs
+family,--that, like numerous other houses of our "very first families,"
+is mortgaged for more than it is worth, to Mr. Staple the grocer. We
+must, however, turn to Mr. Snivel.
+
+Mr. Snivel is seen, on the night after the secret interview at the
+Charleston Hotel, in a happy mood, passing down King street. A little,
+ill-featured man, with a small, but florid face, a keen, lecherous eye,
+leans on his arm. They are in earnest conversation.
+
+"I think the mystery is nearly cleared up, Keepum" says Snivel.
+
+"There seems no getting a clue to the early history of this Madame
+Montford, 'tis true. Even those who introduced her to Charleston society
+know nothing of her beyond a certain period. All anterior to that is
+wrapped in suspicion," returns Keepum, fingering his massive gold chain
+and seals, that pend from his vest, then releasing his hold of Mr.
+Snivel's arm, and commencing to button closely his blue dress coat,
+which is profusely decorated with large gilt buttons. "She's the mother
+of the dashing harlot, or I'm no prophet, nevertheless," he concludes,
+shaking his head significantly.
+
+"You may almost swear it--a bad conscience is a horrid bore; d--n me, if
+I can't see through the thing. (Mr. Snivel laughs.) Better put our
+female friends on their guard, eh?"
+
+"They had better drop her as quietly as possible," rejoins Mr. Keepum,
+drawing his white glove from off his right hand, and extending his cigar
+case.
+
+Mr. Snivel having helped himself to a cigar, says: "D--n me, if she
+didn't faint in my arms last night. I made a discovery that brought
+something of deep interest back to her mind, and gave her timbers such a
+shock! I watched, and read the whole story in her emotions. One
+accustomed to the sharps of the legal profession can do this sort of
+thing. She is afraid of approaching this beautiful creature, Anna
+Bonard, seeing the life she lives, and the suspicions it might create in
+fashionable society, did she pursue such a course to the end of finding
+out whether she be really the lost child of the relative she refers to
+so often. Her object is to find one Mag Munday, who used to knock about
+here, and with whom the child was left. But enough of this for the
+present." Thus saying, they enter the house of the old antiquary, and
+finding no one but Maria at home, Mr. Snivel takes the liberty of
+throwing his arms about her waist. This done, he attempts to drag her
+across the room and upon the sofa. "Neither your father nor you ever had
+a better friend," he says, as the girl struggles from his grasp, shrinks
+at his feet, and, with a look of disdain, upbraids him for his attempt
+to take advantage of a lone female.
+
+"High, ho!" interposes Keepum, "what airs these sort of people put on,
+eh? Don't amount to much, no how; they soon get over them, you know. A
+blasted deal of assumption, as you say. Ha, ha, ha! I rather like this
+sort of modesty. 'Tisn't every one can put it cleverly." Mr. Snivel
+winks to Keepum, who makes an ineffectual attempt to extinguish the
+light, which Maria seizes in her hand, and summoning her courage, stands
+before them in a defiant attitude, an expression of hate and scorn on
+her countenance. "Ah, fiend! you take this liberty--you seek to destroy
+me because I am poor--because you think me humble--an easy object to
+prey upon. I am neither a stranger to the world nor your cowardly
+designs; and so long as I have life you shall not gloat over the
+destruction of my virtue. Approach me at your peril--knaves! You have
+compromised my father; you have got him in your grasp, that you may the
+more easily destroy me. But you will be disappointed, your perfidy will
+recoil on yourselves: though stripped of all else, I will die protecting
+that virtue you would not dare to offend but for my poverty." This
+unexpected display of resolution has the effect of making the position
+of the intruders somewhat uncomfortable. Mr. Keepum, whose designs
+Snivel would put in execution, sinks, cowardly, upon the sofa, while his
+compatriot (both are celebrated for their chivalry) stands off apace
+endeavoring to palliate the insult with facetious remarks. (This
+chivalry of ours is a mockery, a convenient word in the foul mouths of
+fouler ruffians.) Mr. Snivel makes a second attempt to overcome the
+unprotected girl. With every expression of hate and scorn rising to her
+face, she bids him defiance. Seeing himself thus firmly repulsed, he
+begs to assure her, on the word of a gentleman--a commodity always on
+hand, and exceedingly cheap with us--he was far from intending an
+insult. He meant it for a bit of a good turn--nothing more. "Always
+fractious at first--these sort of people are," pursues Keepum,
+relighting his cigar as he sits on the sofa, squinting his right eye.
+"Take bravely to gentlemen after a little display of modesty--always!
+Try her again, Squire." Mr. Snivel dashes the candle from her hand, and
+in the darkness grasps her wrists. The enraged girl shrieks, and calls
+aloud for assistance. Simultaneously a blow fells Mr. Snivel to the
+floor. The voice of Tom Swiggs is heard, crying: "Wretch! villain!--what
+brings you here? (Mr. Keepum, like the coward, who fears the vengeance
+he has merited, makes good his escape.) Will you never cease polluting
+the habitations of the poor? Would to God there was justice for the
+poor, as well as law for the rich; then I would make thee bite the dust,
+like a dying viper. You should no longer banquet on poor virtue.
+Wretch!--I would teach thee that virtue has its value with the poor as
+well as the rich;--that with the true gentleman it is equally sacred."
+Tom stands a few moments over the trembling miscreant, Maria sinks into
+a chair, and with her elbows resting on the table, buries her face in
+her hands and gives vent to her tears.
+
+"Never did criminal so merit punishment; but I will prove thee not worth
+my hand. Go, wretch, go! and know that he who proves himself worthy of
+entering the habitations of the humble is more to be prized than kings
+and princes." Tom relights the candle in time to see Mr. Snivel rushing
+into the street.
+
+The moon sheds a pale light over the city as the two chivalric
+gentlemen, having rejoined and sworn to have revenge, are seen entering
+a little gate that opens to a dilapidated old building, fronted by a
+neglected garden, situate on the north side of Queen street, and in days
+gone by called "Rogues' Retreat." "Rogues' Retreat" has scared vines
+creeping over its black, clap-boarded front, which viewed from the
+street appears in a squatting mood, while its broken door, closed
+shutters--the neglected branches of grape vines that depend upon decayed
+trellise and arbors, invest it with a forlorn air: indeed, one might
+without prejudicing his faculties imagine it a fit receptacle for our
+deceased politicians and our whiskey-drinking congressmen--the last
+resting-place of our departed chivalry. Nevertheless, generous reader,
+we will show you that "Rogues' Retreat" serves a very different purpose.
+Our mob-politicians, who make their lungs and fists supply the want of
+brains, use it as their favorite haunt, and may be seen on the eve of an
+election passing in and out of a door in the rear. Hogsheads of bad
+whiskey have been drunk in "Rogues' Retreat;" it reeks with the fumes of
+uncounted cigars; it has been the scene of untold villanies. Follow us;
+we will forego politeness, and peep in through a little,
+suspicious-looking window, in the rear of the building. This window
+looks into a cavern-like room, some sixteen feet by thirty, the ceiling
+of which is low, and blotched here and there with lamp-smoke and
+water-stains, the plastering hanging in festoons from the walls, and
+lighted by the faint blaze of a small globular lamp, depending from the
+centre, and shedding a lurid glare over fourteen grotesque faces, formed
+round a broad deal-table. Here, at one side of the table sits Judge
+Sleepyhorn, Milman Mingle, the vote-cribber, on his right; there, on the
+other, sits Mr. Snivel and Mr. Keepum. More conspicuous than anything
+else, stands, in the centre of the table, bottles and decanters of
+whiskey, of which each man is armed with a stout glass. "I am as well
+aware of the law as my friend who has just taken his seat can be. But we
+all know that the law can be made subordinate; and it must be made
+subordinate to party ends. We must not (understand me, I do not say this
+in my judicial capacity) be too scrupulous when momentous issues are
+upon us. The man who has not nerve enough to make citizens by the
+dozen--to stuff double-drawered ballot-boxes, is not equal to the times
+we live in;--this is a great moral fact." This is said by the Judge,
+who, having risen with an easy air, sits down and resumes his glass and
+cigar.
+
+"Them's my sentiments--exactly," interposes the vote-cribber, his burly,
+scarred face, and crispy red hair and beard, forming a striking picture
+in the pale light. "I have given up the trade of making Presidents, what
+I used to foller when, you see, I lived in North Caroliner; but, I tell
+you on the faith of my experience, that to carry the day we must let the
+law slide, and crib with a free chain: there's no gettin' over this."
+
+"It is due," interrupts the Judge, again rising to his feet and bowing
+to the cribber, "to this worthy man, whose patriotism has been tried so
+often within prison-walls, that we give weight to his advice. He bears
+the brunt of the battle like a hero--he is a hero!" (The vote-cribber
+acknowledges the compliment by filling his glass and drinking to the
+Judge.)
+
+"Of this worthy gentleman I have, as a member of the learned profession,
+an exalted opinion. His services are as necessary to our success as
+steam to the speed of a locomotive. I am in favor of leaving the law
+entirely out of the question. What society sanctions as a means to party
+ends, the law in most cases fails to reach," rejoins a tall,
+sandy-complexioned man, of the name of Booper, very distinguished among
+lawyers and ladies. Never was truth spoken with stronger testimony at
+hand. Mr. Keepum could boast of killing two poor men; Mr. Snivel could
+testify to the fallacy of the law by gaining him an honorable acquittal.
+There were numerous indictments against Mr. Keepum for his dealings in
+lottery tickets, but they found their way into the Attorney-General's
+pocket, and it was whispered he meant to keep them there. It was indeed
+pretty well known he could not get them out in consequence of the gold
+Keepum poured in. Not a week passes but men kill each other in the open
+streets. We call these little affairs, "rencontres;" the fact is, we are
+become so accustomed to them that we rather like them, and regard them
+as evidences of our advanced civilization. We are infested with
+slave-hunters, and slave-killers, who daily disgrace us with their
+barbarities; yet the law is weak when the victor is strong. So we
+continue to live in the harmless belief that we are the most chivalrous
+people in the world.
+
+"Mr. Booper!" ejaculates Mr. Snivel, knocking the ashes from his cigar
+and rising to his feet, "you have paid no more than a merited
+compliment to the masterly completeness of this excellent man's
+cribbing. (He points to the cribber, and bows.) Now, permit me to say
+here, I have at my disposal a set of fellows, (he smiles,) who can fight
+their way into Congress, duplicate any system of sharps, and stand in
+fear of nothing. Oh! gentlemen, (Mr. Snivel becomes enthusiastic.) I
+was--as I have said, I believe--enjoying a bottle of champagne with my
+friend Keepum here, when we overheard two Dutchmen--the Dutch always go
+with the wrong party--discoursing about a villanous caucus held to-night
+in King street. There is villany up with these Dutch! But, you see,
+we--that is, I mean I--made some forty or more citizens last year. We
+have the patent process; we can make as many this year."
+
+Mr. Sharp, an exceedingly clever politician, who has meekly born any
+number of cudgellings at the polls, and hopes ere long to get the
+appointment of Minister to Paris, interrupts by begging that Mr. Soloman
+will fill his glass, and resume his seat. Mr. Snivel having taking his
+seat, Mr. Sharp proceeds: "I tell you all what it is, says I, the other
+day to a friend--these ponderous Dutch ain't to be depended on. Then,
+says I, you must separate the Irish into three classes, and to each
+class you must hold out a different inducement, says I. There's the Rev.
+Father Flaherty, says I, and he is a trump card at electioneering. He
+can form a breach between his people and the Dutch, and, says I, by the
+means of this breach we will gain the whole tribe of Emeralds over to
+our party. I confess I hate these vagabonds right soundly; but necessity
+demands that we butter and sugar the mover until we carry our ends. You
+must not look at the means, says I, when the ends are momentous."
+
+"The staunch Irish," pursues the Judge, rising as Mr. Sharp sits down,
+"are noble fellows, and with us. To the middle class--the grocers and
+shopkeepers--we must, however, hold out flattering inducements; such as
+the reduction of taxes, the repeal of our oppressive license laws,
+taking the power out of the hands of our aristocracy--they are very
+tender here--and giving equal rights to emigrants. These points we must
+put as Paul did his sermons--with force and ingenuity. As for the low
+Irish, all we have to do is to crib them, feed and pickle them in
+whiskey for a week. To gain an Irishman's generosity, you cannot use a
+better instrument than meat, drink, and blarney. I often contemplate
+these fellows when I am passing sentence upon them for crime."
+
+"True! I have the same dislike to them personally; but politically, the
+matter assumes quite a different form of attraction. The laboring
+Irish--the dull-headed--are what we have to do with. We must work them
+over, and over, and over, until we get them just right. Then we must
+turn them all into legal voting citizens--"
+
+"That depends on how long they have been in the country," interrupts a
+brisk little man, rising quickly to his feet, and assuming a legal air.
+
+"Mr. Sprig! you are entirely behind the age. It matters not how long
+these gentlemen from Ireland have been in the country. They take to
+politics like rats to good cheese. A few months' residence, and a little
+working over, you know, and they become trump voters. The Dutch are a
+different sort of animal; the fellows are thinkers," resumes the Judge.
+
+Mr. Snivel, who has been sipping his whiskey, and listening very
+attentively to the Judge, rises to what he calls the most important
+order. He has got the paper all ready, and proposes the gentlemen he
+thinks best qualified for the naturalization committee. This done, Mr.
+Snivel draws from his pocket a copy of the forged papers, which are
+examined, and approved by every one present. This instrument is
+surmounted with the eagle and arms of the United States, and reads thus:
+
+     "_STATE OF NEW YORK_.
+
+     "In the Court of Common Pleas for the city and county of New York:
+
+     "I---- do declare on oath, that it is _bona fide_ my intention to
+     become a citizen of the United States, and to renounce forever all
+     allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, State or
+     sovereignty whatever, and particularly to the Queen of the United
+     Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, of whom I am a subject."
+
+     Signed this---- day of---- 184-.
+
+        JAMES CONNOR, Clerk.
+
+     "Clerk's office, Court of Common Pleas for the city and county of
+     New York."
+
+     "I hereby certify that the foregoing is a true copy of an original
+     declaration of intention remaining on record in my office, &c.,
+     &c., &c."
+
+"There! it required skill and practice to imitate like that" Mr. Snivel
+exultingly exclaims. "We require to make thirty-seven citizens, and have
+prepared the exact number of papers. If the cribbers do their duty, the
+day is ours." Thus is revealed one of the scenes common to "Rogues'
+Retreat." We shrink at the multiplicity of crime in our midst; we too
+seldom trace the source from whence it flows. If we did but turn our
+eyes in the right direction we would find the very men we have elected
+our guardians, protecting the vicious, whose power they
+covet--sacrificing their high trust to a low political ambition. You
+cannot serve a political end by committing a wrong without inflicting a
+moral degradation on some one. Political intrigue begets laxity of
+habits; it dispels that integrity without which the unfixed mind becomes
+vicious; it acts as a festering sore in the body politic.
+
+Having concluded their arrangements for the Mayor's election, the party
+drinks itself into a noisy mood, each outshouting the other for the
+right to speak, each refilling and emptying his glass, each asserting
+with vile imprecations, his dignity as a gentleman. Midnight finds the
+reeling party adjourning in the midst of confusion.
+
+Mr. Snivel winks the vote-cribber into a corner, and commences
+interrogating him concerning Mag Munday. The implacable face of the
+vote-cribber reddens, he contorts his brows, frets his jagged beard with
+the fingers of his left hand, runs his right over the crown of his head,
+and stammers: "I know'd her, lived with her--she used to run sort of
+wild, and was twice flogged. She got crazed at last!" He shrugs his
+stalworth shoulders and pauses. "Being a politician, you see, a body
+can't divest their minds of State affairs sufficiently to keep up on
+women matters," he pursues: "She got into the poor-house, that I
+knows--"
+
+"She is dead then?" interposes Mr. Snivel.
+
+"As like as not. The poor relatives of our 'first families' rot and die
+there without much being said about it. Just look in at that
+institution--it's a terrible place to kill folks off!--and if she be not
+there then come to me. Don't let the keepers put you off. Pass through
+the outer gate, into and through the main building, then turn sharp to
+the left, and advance some twenty feet up a filthy passage, then enter a
+passage on the right, (have a light with you,) that leads to a dozen or
+fourteen steps, wet and slippery. Then you must descend into a sort of
+grotto, or sickly vault, which you will cross and find yourself in a
+spacious passage, crawling with beetles and lizards. Don't be
+frightened, sir; keep on till you hear moanings and clankings of chains.
+Then you will come upon a row of horrid cells, only suited for dog
+kennels. In these cells our crazy folks are chained and left to die.
+Give Glentworthy a few shillings for liquor, sir, and he, having these
+poor devils in charge, will put you through. It's a terrible place, sir,
+but our authorities never look into it, and few of our people know of
+its existence."
+
+Mr. Snivel thanks the vote-cribber, who pledges his honor he would
+accompany him, but for the reason that he opens crib to-morrow, and has
+in his eye a dozen voters he intends to look up. He has also a few
+recently-arrived sons of the Emerald Isle he purposes turning into
+citizens.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+MRS. SWIGGS FALLS UPON A MODERN HEATHEN WORLD.
+
+
+Purged of all the ill-humors of her mind, Mrs. Swiggs finds herself, on
+the morning following the excellent little gathering at Sister
+Scudder's, restored to the happiest of tempers. The flattery
+administered by Brother Spyke, and so charmingly sprinkled with his
+pious designs on the heathen world, has had the desired effect. This
+sort of drug has, indeed, a wonderful efficacy in setting disordered
+constitutions to rights. It would not become us to question the
+innocence, or the right to indulge in such correctives; it is enough
+that our venerable friend finds herself in a happy vein, and is resolved
+to spend the day for the benefit of that heathen world, the darkness of
+which Brother Spyke pictured in colors so terrible.
+
+Breakfast is scarcely over when Sister Slocum, in great agitation, comes
+bustling into the parlor, offers the most acceptable apologies for her
+absence, and pours forth such a vast profusion of solicitude for Mrs.
+Swiggs' welfare, that that lady is scarce able to withstand the
+kindness. She recounts the numerous duties that absorb her attention,
+the missions she has on hand, the means she uses to keep up an interest
+in them, the amount of funds necessary to their maintenance. A large
+portion of these funds she raises with her own energy. She will drag up
+the heathen world; she will drag down Satan. Furnishing Mrs. Swiggs
+with the address of the House of the Foreign Missions, in Centre street,
+she excuses herself. How superlatively happy she would be to accompany
+Mrs. Swiggs. A report to present to the committee on finance, she
+regrets, will prevent this. However, she will join her precisely at
+twelve o'clock, at the House. She must receive the congratulations of
+the Board. She must have a reception that will show how much the North
+respects her co-laborers of the South. And with this, Sister Slocum
+takes leave of her guest, assuring her that all she has to do is to get
+into the cars in the Bowery. They will set her down at the door.
+
+Ten o'clock finds our indomitable lady, having preferred the less
+expensive mode of walking, entering a strange world. Sauntering along
+the Bowery she turns down Bayard street. Bayard street she finds lined
+with filthy looking houses, swarming with sickly, ragged, and besotted
+poor; the street is knee-deep with corrupting mire; carts are tilted
+here and there at intervals; the very air seems hurling its pestilence
+into your blood. Ghastly-eyed and squalid children, like ants in quest
+of food, creep and swarm over the pavement, begging for bread or
+uttering profane oaths at one another. Mothers who never heard the Word
+of God, nor can be expected to teach it to their children, protrude
+their vicious faces from out reeking gin shops, and with bare breasts
+and uncombed hair, sweep wildly along the muddy pavement, disappear into
+some cavern-like cellar, and seek on some filthy straw a resting place
+for their wasting bodies. A whiskey-drinking Corporation might feast its
+peculative eyes upon hogs wallowing in mud; and cellars where swarming
+beggars, for six cents a night, cover with rags their hideous
+heads--where vice and crime are fostered, and into which your sensitive
+policeman prefers not to go, are giving out their seething miasma. The
+very neighborhood seems vegetating in mire. In the streets, in the
+cellars, in the filthy lanes, in the dwellings of the honest poor, as
+well as the vicious, muck and mire is the predominating order. The
+besotted remnants of depraved men, covered with rags and bedaubed with
+mire, sit, half sleeping in disease and hunger on decayed door-stoops.
+Men with bruised faces, men with bleared eyes, men in whose every
+feature crime and dissipation is stamped, now drag their waning bodies
+from out filthy alleys, as if to gasp some breath of air, then drag
+themselves back, as if to die in a desolate hiding-place. Engines of
+pestilence and death the corporation might see and remove, if it would,
+are left here to fester--to serve a church-yard as gluttonous as its own
+belly. The corporation keeps its eyes in its belly, its little sense in
+its big boots, and its dull action in the whiskey-jug. Like Mrs. Swiggs,
+it cannot afford to do anything for this heathen world in the heart of
+home. No, sir! The corporation has the most delicate sense of its
+duties. It is well paid to nurture the nucleus of a pestilence that may
+some day break out and sweep over the city like an avenging enemy. It
+thanks kind Providence, eating oysters and making Presidents the while,
+for averting the dire scourge it encourages with its apathy. Like our
+humane and very fashionable preachers, it contents itself with looking
+into the Points from Broadway. What more would you ask of it?
+
+Mrs. Swiggs is seized with fear and trembling. Surely she is in a world
+of darkness. Can it be that so graphically described by Brother
+Syngleton Spyke? she questions within herself. It might, indeed, put
+Antioch to shame: but the benighted denizens with which it swarms speak
+her own tongue. "It is a deal worse in Orange street,[3] Marm--a deal, I
+assure you!" speaks a low, muttering voice. Lady Swiggs is startled. She
+only paused a moment to view this sea of vice and wretchedness she finds
+herself surrounded with. Turning quickly round she sees before her a
+man, or what there is left of a man. His tattered garments, his lean,
+shrunken figure, his glassy eyes, and pale, haggard face, cause her to
+shrink back in fright. He bows, touches his shattered hat, and says, "Be
+not afraid good Madam. May I ask if you have not mistaken your way?"
+Mrs. Swiggs looks querulously through her spectacles and says, "Do tell
+me where I am?" "In the Points, good Madam. You seem confused, and I
+don't wonder. It's a dreadful place. I know it, madam, to my sorrow."
+There is a certain politeness in the manner of this man--an absence of
+rudeness she is surprised to find in one so dejected. The red, distended
+nose, the wild expression of his countenance, his jagged hair, hanging
+in tufts over his ragged coat collar, give him a repulsiveness not
+easily described. In answer to an inquiry he says, "They call me, Madam,
+and I'm contented with the name,--they call me Tom Toddleworth, the
+Chronicle. I am well down--not in years, but sorrow. Being sick of the
+world I came here, have lived, or rather drifted about, in this sea of
+hopeless misery, homeless and at times foodless, for ten years or more.
+Oh! I have seen better days, Madam. You are a stranger here. May God
+always keep you a stranger to the sufferings of those who dwell with us.
+I never expect to be anything again, owe nothing to the world, and
+never go into Broadway."
+
+[Footnote 3: Now called Baxter street]
+
+"Never go into Broadway," repeats Mrs. Swiggs, her fingers wandering to
+her spectacles. Turning into Orange street, Mr. Toddleworth tenders his
+services in piloting Mrs. Swiggs into Centre street, which, as he adds,
+will place her beyond harm. As they advance the scene becomes darker and
+darker. Orange street seems that centre from which radiates the avenues
+of every vice known to a great city. One might fancy the world's
+outcasts hurled by some mysterious hand into this pool of crime and
+misery, and left to feast their wanton appetites and die. "And you have
+no home, my man?" says Mrs. Swiggs, mechanically. "As to that, Madam,"
+returns the man, with a bow, "I can't exactly say I have no home. I kind
+of preside over and am looked up to by these people. One says, 'come
+spend a night with me, Mr. Toddleworth,' another says, 'come spend a
+night with me, Mr. Tom Toddleworth.' I am a sort of respectable man with
+them, have a place to lay down free, in any of their houses. They all
+esteem me, and say, come spend a night with me, Mr. Toddleworth. It's
+very kind of them. And whenever they get a drop of gin I'm sure of a
+taste. Surmising what I was once, they look up to me, you see. This
+gives me heart." And as he says this he smiles, and draws about him the
+ragged remnants of his coat, as if touched by shame. Arrived at the
+corner of Orange street, Mr. Toddleworth pauses and begs his charge to
+survey the prospect. Look whither she will nothing but a scene of
+desolation--a Babylon of hideous, wasting forms, mucky streets, and
+reeking dens, meet her eye. The Jews have arranged themselves on one
+side of Orange street, to speculate on the wasted harlotry of the
+other. "Look you, Madam!" says Mr. Toddleworth, leaning on his stick and
+pointing towards Chatham street. "A desert, truly," replies the august
+old lady, nervously twitching her head. She sees to the right ("it is
+wantonness warring upon misery," says Mr. Toddleworth) a long line of
+irregular, wooden buildings, black and besmeared with mud. Little houses
+with decrepit doorsteps; little houses with decayed platforms in front;
+little dens that seem crammed with rubbish; little houses with
+black-eyed, curly-haired, and crooked-nosed children looking shyly about
+the doors; little houses with lusty and lecherous-eyed Jewesses sitting
+saucily in the open door; little houses with open doors, broken windows,
+and shattered shutters, where the devil's elixir is being served to
+ragged and besotted denizens; little houses into which women with
+blotched faces slip suspiciously, deposit their almost worthless rags,
+and pass out to seek the gin-shop; little houses with eagle-faced men
+peering curiously out at broken windows, or beckoning some wayfarer to
+enter and buy from their door; little houses piled inside with the
+cast-off garments of the poor and dissolute, and hung outside with
+smashed bonnets, old gowns, tattered shawls; flaunting--red, blue, and
+yellow, in the wind, emblematic of those poor wretches, on the opposite
+side, who have pledged here their last offerings, and blazed down into
+that stage of human degradation, which finds the next step the
+grave--all range along, forming a picturesque but sad panorama. Mr.
+Moses, the man of the eagle face, who keeps the record of death, as the
+neighbors call it, sits opulently in his door, and smokes his cigar;
+while his sharp-eyed daughters estimate exactly how much it is safe to
+advance on the last rag some lean wretch would pledge. He will tell you
+just how long that brawny harlot, passing on the opposite side, will
+last, and what the few rags on her back will be worth when she is
+"shoved into Potters' Field." At the sign of the "Three Martyrs" Mr.
+Levy is seen, in his fashionable coat, and a massive chain falling over
+his tight waistcoat, registering the names of his grotesque customers,
+ticketing their little packages, and advancing each a shilling or two,
+which they will soon spend at the opposite druggery. Thus bravely wages
+the war. London has nothing so besotted, Paris nothing so vicious,
+Naples nothing so dark and despairing, as this heathen world we pass by
+so heedlessly. Beside it even the purlieus of Rome sink into
+insignificance. Now run your eye along the East side of Orange street. A
+sidewalk sinking in mire; a long line of one-story wooden shanties,
+ready to cave-in with decay; dismal looking groceries, in which the god,
+gin, is sending his victims by hundreds to the greedy graveyard;
+suspicious looking dens with dingy fronts, open doors, and windows
+stuffed with filthy rags--in which crimes are nightly perpetrated, and
+where broken-hearted victims of seduction and neglect, seeking here a
+last refuge, are held in a slavery delicacy forbids our describing; dens
+where negro dancers nightly revel, and make the very air re-echo their
+profaning voices; filthy lanes leading to haunts up alleys and in narrow
+passages, where thieves and burglars hide their vicious heads;
+mysterious looking steps leading to cavern-like cellars, where swarm and
+lay prostrate wretched beings made drunk by the "devil's elixir"--all
+these beset the East side of Orange street. Wasted nature, blanched and
+despairing, ferments here into one terrible pool. Women in
+gaudy-colored dresses, their bared breasts and brawny arms contrasting
+curiously with their wicked faces, hang lasciviously over "half-doors,"
+taunt the dreamy policeman on his round, and beckon the unwary stranger
+into their dens. Piles of filth one might imagine had been thrown up by
+the devil or the street commissioner, and in which you might bury a
+dozen fat aldermen without missing one; little shops where unwholesome
+food is sold; corner shops where idlers of every color, and sharpers of
+all grades, sit dreaming out the day over their gin--are here to be
+found. Young Ireland would, indeed, seem to have made this the citadel
+from which to vomit his vice over the city.
+
+"They're perfectly wild, Madam--these children are," says Mr.
+Toddleworth, in reply to a question Mrs. Swiggs put respecting the
+immense number of ragged and profaning urchins that swarm the streets.
+"They never heard of the Bible, nor God, nor that sort of thing. How
+could they hear of it? No one ever comes in here--that is, they come in
+now and then, and throw a bit of a tract in here and there, and are glad
+to get out with a whole coat. The tracts are all Greek to the dwellers
+here. Besides that, you see, something must be done for the belly,
+before you can patch up the head. I say this with a fruitful experience.
+A good, kind little man, who seems earnest in the welfare of these wild
+little children that you see running about here--not the half of them
+know their parents--looks in now and then, acts as if he wasn't afraid
+of us, (that is a good deal, Madam) and the boys are beginning to take
+to him. But, with nothing but his kind heart and earnest resolution,
+he'll find a rugged mountain to move. If he move it, he will deserve a
+monument of fairest marble erected to his memory, and letters of gold
+to emblazon his deeds thereon. He seems to understand the key to some of
+their affections. It's no use mending the sails without making safe the
+hull."
+
+At this moment Mrs. Swiggs' attention is attracted by a crowd of ragged
+urchins and grotesque-looking men, gathered about a heap of filth at
+that corner of Orange street that opens into the Points.
+
+"They are disinterring his Honor, the Mayor," says Mr. Toddleworth. "Do
+this sort of thing every day, Madam; they mean no harm, you see."
+
+Mrs. Swiggs, curious to witness the process of disinterring so
+distinguished a person, forgets entirely her appointment at the House of
+the Foreign Missions, crowds her way into the filthy throng, and watches
+with intense anxiety a vacant-looking idiot, who has seen some sixteen
+summers, lean and half clad, and who has dug with his staff a hole deep
+in the mud, which he is busy piling up at the edges.
+
+"Deeper, deeper!" cries out a dozen voices, of as many mischievous
+urchins, who are gathered round in a ring, making him the victim of
+their sport. Having cast his glassy eyes upward, and scanned vacantly
+his audience, he sets to work again, and continues throwing out dead
+cats by the dozen, all of which he exults over, and pauses now and then
+for the approbation of the bystanders, who declare they bear no
+resemblance to his Honor, or any one of the Board of Aldermen. One
+chubby urchin, with a bundle of _Tribunes_ under his arm, looks
+mischievously into the pit, and says, "His 'Onor 'ill want the
+_Tribune_." Another, of a more taciturn disposition, shrugs his
+shoulders, gives his cap a pull over his eyes, and says, spicing his
+declaration with an oath, "He'll buy two _Heralds_!--he will." The
+taciturn urchin draws them from his bundle with an air of independence,
+flaunts them in the face of his rival, and exults over their merits. A
+splashing of mud, followed by a deafening shout, announces that the
+persevering idiot has come upon the object he seeks. One proclaims to
+his motley neighbors that the whole corporation is come to light;
+another swears it is only his Honor and a dead Alderman. A third, more
+astute than the rest, says it is only the head and body of the
+Corporation--a dead pig and a decaying pumpkin! Shout after shout goes
+up as the idiot, exultingly, drags out the prostrate pig, following it
+with the pumpkin. Mr. Toddleworth beckons Lady Swiggs away. The
+wicked-faced harlots are gathering about her in scores. One has just
+been seen fingering her dress, and hurrying away, disappearing
+suspiciously into an Alley.
+
+"You see, Madam," says Mr. Toddleworth, as they gain the vicinity of Cow
+Bay, "it is currently reported, and believed by the dwellers here, that
+our Corporation ate itself out of the world not long since; and seeing
+how much they suffer by the loss of such--to have a dead Corporation in
+a great city, is an evil, I assure you--an institution, they adopt this
+method of finding it. It affords them no little amusement. These
+swarming urchins will have the filthy things laid out in state, holding
+with due ceremony an inquest over them, and mischievously proposing to
+the first policeman who chances along, that he officiate as coroner.
+Lady Swiggs has not a doubt that light might be valuably reflected over
+this heathen world. Like many other very excellent ladies, however, she
+has no candles for a heathen world outside of Antioch."
+
+Mr. Toddleworth escorts her safely into Centre street, and directs her
+to the House of the Foreign Missions.
+
+"Thank you! thank you!--may God never let you want a shilling," he says,
+bowing and touching his hat as Mrs. Swiggs puts four shillings into his
+left hand.
+
+"One shilling, Madam," he pursues, with a smile, "will get me a new
+collar. A clean collar now and then, it must be said, gives a body a
+look of respectability."
+
+Mr. Toddleworth has a passion for new collars, regards them as a means
+of sustaining his respectability. Indeed, he considers himself in full
+dress with one mounted, no matter how ragged the rest of his wardrobe.
+And when he walks out of a morning, thus conditioned, his friends greet
+him with: "Hi! ho! Mister Toddleworth is uppish this morning." He has
+bid his charge good morning, and hurries back to his wonted haunts.
+There is a mysterious and melancholy interest in this man's history,
+which many have attempted but failed to fathom. He was once heard to say
+his name was not Toddleworth--that he had sunk his right name in his
+sorrows. He was sentimental at times, always used good language, and
+spoke like one who had seen better days and enjoyed a superior
+education. He wanted, he would say, when in one of his melancholy moods,
+to forget the world, and have the world forget him. Thus he shut himself
+up in the Points, and only once or twice had he been seen in the Bowery,
+and never in Broadway during his sojourn among the denizens who swarm
+that vortex of death. How he managed to obtain funds, for he was never
+without a shilling, was equally involved in mystery. He had no very bad
+habits, seemed inoffensive to all he approached, spoke familiarly on
+past events, and national affairs, and discovered a general knowledge of
+the history of the world. And while he was always ready to share his
+shilling with his more destitute associates, he ever maintained a degree
+of politeness and civility toward those he was cast among not common to
+the place. He was ready to serve every one, would seek out the sick and
+watch over them with a kindness almost paternal, discovering a singular
+familiarity with the duties of a physician. He had, however, an
+inveterate hatred of fashionable wives; and whenever the subject was
+brought up, which it frequently was by the denizens of the Points, he
+would walk away, with a sigh. "Fashionable wives," he would mutter, his
+eyes filling with tears, "are never constant. Ah! they have deluged the
+world with sorrow, and sent me here to seek a hiding place."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+IN WHICH THE VERY BEST INTENTIONS ARE SEEN TO FAIL.
+
+
+The city clock strikes one as Mrs. Swiggs, nervous and weary, enters the
+House of the Foreign Missions. Into a comfortably-furnished room on the
+right, she is ushered by a man meekly dressed, and whose countenance
+wears an expression of melancholy. Maps and drawings of Palestine,
+Hindostan, and sundry other fields of missionary labor, hang here and
+there upon the walls. These are alternated with nicely-framed engravings
+and lithographs of Mission establishments in the East, all located in
+some pretty grove, and invested with a warmth and cheerfulness that
+cannot fail to make a few years' residence in them rather desirable than
+otherwise. These in turn are relieved with portraits of distinguished
+missionaries. Earnest-faced busts, in plaster, stand prominently about
+the room, periodicals and papers are piled on little shelves, and bright
+bookcases are filled with reports and various documents concerning the
+society, all bound so exactly. The good-natured man of the kind face
+sits in refreshing ease behind a little desk; the wise-looking lean man,
+in the spectacles, is just in front of him, buried in ponderous folios
+of reports. In the centre of the room stands a highly-polished mahogany
+table, at which Brother Spyke is seated, his elbow rested, and his head
+leaning thoughtfully in his hand. The rotund figure and energetic face
+of Sister Slocum is seen, whisking about conspicuously among a bevy of
+sleek but rather lean gentlemen, studious of countenance, and in modest
+cloth. For each she has something cheerful to impart; each in his turn
+has some compliment to bestow upon her. Several nicely-dressed, but
+rather meek-looking ladies, two or three accompanied by their knitting
+work, have arranged themselves on a settee in front of the wise man in
+the spectacles.
+
+Scarcely has the representative of our chivalry entered the room when
+Sister Slocum, with all the ardor of a lover of seventeen, runs to her
+with open arms, embraces her, and kisses her with an affection truly
+grateful. Choking to relate her curious adventure, she is suddenly
+heaped with adulations, told how the time of her coming was looked to,
+as an event of no common occurrence--how Brothers Sharp, Spyke, and
+Phills, expressed apprehensions for her safety this morning, each in
+turn offering in the kindest manner to get a carriage and go in pursuit.
+The good-natured fat man gets down from his high seat, and receives her
+with pious congratulations; the man in the spectacles looks askant, and
+advances with extended hand. To use a convenient phrase, she is received
+with open arms; and so meek and good is the aspect, that she finds her
+thoughts transported to an higher, a region where only is bliss.
+Provided with a seat in a conspicuous place, she is told to consider
+herself the guest of the society. Sundry ovations, Sister Slocum gives
+her to understand, will be made in her honor, ere long. The fact must
+here be disclosed that Sister Slocum had prepared the minds of those
+present for the reception of an embodiment of perfect generosity.
+
+No sooner has Lady Swiggs time to breathe freely, than she changes the
+wondrous kind aspect of the assembly, and sends it into a paroxysm of
+fright, by relating her curious adventure among the denizens of the
+Points. Brother Spyke nearly makes up his mind to faint; the
+good-natured fat man turns pale; the wise man in the spectacles is seen
+to tremble; the neatly-attired females, so pious-demeanored, express
+their horror of such a place; and Sister Slocum stands aghast. "Oh!
+dear, Sister Swiggs," she says, "your escape from such a vile place is
+truly marvellous! Thank God you are with us once more." The good-natured
+fat man says, "A horrible world, truly!" and sighs. Brother Spyke shrugs
+his shoulders, adding, "No respectable person here ever thinks of going
+into such a place; the people there are so corrupt." Brother Sharp says
+he shudders at the very thought of such a place. He has heard much said
+of the dark deeds nightly committed in it--of the stubborn vileness of
+the dwellers therein. God knows he never wants to descend into it.
+"Truly," Brother Phills interposes, "I walked through it once, and
+beheld with mine eyes such sights, such human deformity! O, God! Since
+then, I am content to go to my home through Broadway. I never forget to
+shudder when I look into the vile place from a distance, nevertheless."
+Brother Phills says this after the manner of a philosopher, fretting his
+fingers, and contorting his comely face the while. Sister Slocum, having
+recovered somewhat from the shock (the shock had no permanent effect on
+any of them), hopes Sister Swiggs did not lend an ear to their false
+pleadings, nor distribute charity among the vile wretches. "Such would
+be like scattering chaff to the winds," a dozen voices chime in.
+"Indeed!" Lady Swiggs ejaculates, giving her head a toss, in token of
+her satisfaction, "not a shilling, except to the miserable wretch who
+showed me the way out. And he seemed harmless enough. I never met a more
+melancholy object, never!" Brother Spyke raises his eyes imploringly,
+and says he harbors no ill-will against these vile people, but
+melancholy is an art with them--they make it a study. They affect it
+while picking one's pocket.
+
+The body now resolves itself into working order. Brother Spyke offers up
+a prayer. He thanks kind Providence for the happy escape of Sister
+Swiggs--this generous woman whose kindness of heart has brought her
+here--from among the hardened wretches who inhabit that slough of
+despair, so terrible in all its aspects, and so disgraceful to a great
+and prosperous city. He thanks Him who blessed him with the light of
+learning--who endowed him with vigor and resolution--and told him to go
+forth in armor, beating down Satan, and raising up the heathen world. A
+mustering of spectacles follows. Sister Slocum draws from her bosom a
+copy of the report the wise man in the spectacles rises to read. A
+fashionable gold chain and gold-framed eye-glass is called to her aid;
+and with a massive pencil of gold, she dots and points certain items of
+dollars and cents her keen eye rests upon every now and then.
+
+The wise man in the spectacles rises, having exchanged glances with
+Sister Slocum, and commences reading a very long, and in nowise lean
+report. The anxious gentlemen draw up their chairs, and turn attentive
+ears. For nearly an hour, he buzzes and bores the contents of this
+report into their ears, takes sundry sips of water, and informs those
+present, and the world in general, that nearly forty thousand dollars
+have recently been consumed for missionary labor. The school at Corsica,
+the missions at Canton, Ningpo, Pu-kong, Cassaba, Abheokuta, and sundry
+other places, the names of which could not, by any possibility, aid the
+reader in discovering their location--all, were doing as well as could
+be expected, _under the circumstances_. After many years labor, and a
+considerable expenditure of money, they were encouraged to go forward,
+inasmuch as the children of the school at Corsica were beginning to
+learn to read. At Casaba, Droneyo, the native scholar, had, after many
+years' teaching, been made conscious of the sin of idol-worship, and had
+given his solemn promise to relinquish it as soon as he could propitiate
+two favorite gods bequeathed to him by his great uncle. The furnace of
+"Satanic cruelty" had been broken down at Dahomey. Brother Smash had,
+after several years' labor, and much expense--after having broken down
+his health, and the health of many others--penetrated the dark regions
+of Arabia, and there found the very seat of Satanic power. It was firmly
+pegged to Paganism and Mahomedan darkness! This news the world was
+expected to hail with consternation. Not one word is lisped about that
+terrible devil holding his court of beggary and crime in the Points. He
+had all his furnaces in full blast there; his victims were legion! No
+Brother Spyke is found to venture in and drag him down. The region of
+the Seven Churches offers inducements more congenial. Bound about them
+all is shady groves, gentle breezes, and rural habitations; in the
+Points the very air is thick with pestilence!
+
+A pause follows the reading. The wise man in the spectacles--his voice
+soft and persuasive, and his aspect meekness itself--would like to know
+if any one present be inclined to offer a remark. General satisfaction
+prevails. Brother Sharp moves, and Brother Phills seconds, that the
+report be accepted. The report is accepted without a dissenting voice. A
+second paper is handed him by Sister Slocum, whose countenance is seen
+to flash bright with smiles. Then there follows the proclaiming of the
+fact of funds, to the amount of three thousand six hundred dollars,
+having been subscribed, and now ready to be appropriated to getting
+Brother Syngleton Spyke off to Antioch. A din of satisfaction follows;
+every face is radiant with joy. Sister Swiggs twitches her head, begins
+to finger her pocket, and finally readjusts her spectacles. Having
+worked her countenance into a good staring condition, she sets her eyes
+fixedly upon Brother Spyke, who rises, saying he has a few words to
+offer.
+
+The object of his mission to Antioch, so important at this moment, he
+would not have misunderstood. Turks, Greeks, Jews, Arabs, Armenians, and
+Kurds, and Yesedees--yes, brethren, Yesedees! inhabit this part of
+Assyria, which opens up an extensive field of missionary labor, even
+yet. Much had been done by the ancient Greeks for the people who roamed
+in these Eastern wilds--much remained for us to do; for it was yet a
+dark spot on the missionary map. Thousands of these poor souls were
+without the saving knowledge of the Gospel. He could not shrink from a
+duty so demanding--wringing his very heart with its pleadings! Giving
+the light of the Gospel to these vicious Arabs and Kurds was the end and
+aim of his mission. (A motion of satisfaction was here perceptible.) And
+while there, he would teach the Jews a just sense of their Lord's
+design--which was the subjugation of the heathen world. Inward light was
+very good, old prophecies were very grand; but Judaism was made of
+stubborn metal, had no missionary element in it, and could only be
+forced to accept light through strong and energetic movement. He had
+read with throbbing heart how Rome, while in her greatness, protected
+those Christian pilgrims who went forth into the East, to do battle with
+the enemy. Would not America imitate Rome, that mighty mother of
+Republics? A deeper responsibility rested on her at this moment. Rome,
+then, was semi-barbarous; America, now, was Christianized and civilized.
+Hence she would be held more accountable for the dissemination of light.
+
+In those days the wandering Christian Jews undertook to instruct the
+polished Greeks--why could not Americans at this day inculcate the
+doctrines of Jesus to these educated heathen? It was a bold and daring
+experiment, but he was willing to try it. The Allwise worked his wonders
+in a mysterious way. In this irrelevant and somewhat mystical style,
+Brother Spyke continues nearly an hour, sending his audience into a
+highly-edified state. We have said mystical, for, indeed, none but those
+in the secret could have divined, from Brother Spyke's logic, what was
+the precise nature of his mission. His speech was very like a country
+parson's model sermon; one text was selected, and a dozen or more (all
+different) preached from; while fifty things were said no one could
+understand.
+
+Brother Spyke sits down--Sister Slocum rises. "Our dear and very
+generous guest now present," she says, addressing the good-natured fat
+man in the chair, as Lady Swiggs bows, "moved by the goodness that is in
+her, and conscious of the terrible condition of the heathen world, has
+come nobly to our aid. Like a true Christian she has crossed the sea,
+and is here. Not only is she here, but ready to give her mite toward
+getting Brother Spyke off to Antioch. Another donation she proposes
+giving the 'Tract Society,' an excellent institution, in high favor at
+the South. Indeed I may add, that it never has offended against its
+social--"
+
+Sister Slocum hesitates. Social slavery will not sound just right, she
+says to her herself. She must have a term more musical, and less grating
+to the ear. A smile flashes across her countenance, her gold-framed
+eye-glasses vibrate in her fingers: "Well! I was going to say, their
+social arrangements," she pursues.
+
+The assembly is suddenly thrown into a fit of excitement. Lady Swiggs is
+seen trembling from head to foot, her yellow complexion changing to pale
+white, her features contorting as with pain, and her hand clutching at
+her pocket. "O heavens!" she sighs, "all is gone, gone, gone: how vain
+and uncertain are the things here below." She drops, fainting, into the
+arms of Sister Slocum, who has overset the wise man in the spectacles,
+in her haste to catch the prostrate form. On a bench the august body is
+laid. Fans, water, camphor, hartshorn, and numerous other restoratives
+are brought into use. Persons get in each other's way, run every way but
+the right way, causing, as is common in such cases, very unnecessary
+alarm. The stately representative of the great Swiggs family lies
+motionless. Like the last of our chivalry, she has nothing left her but
+a name.
+
+A dash or two of cold water, and the application of a little hartshorn,
+and that sympathy so necessary to the fainting of distinguished
+people--proves all-efficient. A slight heaving of the bosom is detected,
+the hands--they have been well chaffed--quiver and move slowly, her face
+resumes its color. She opens her eyes, lays her hand solicitously on
+Sister Slocum's arm: "It must be the will of Heaven," she lisps,
+motioning her head, regretfully; "it cannot now be undone--"
+
+"Sister! sister! sister!" interrupts Sister Slocum, grasping her hand,
+and looking inquiringly in the face of the recovering woman, "is it an
+affection of the heart?--where is the pain?--what has befallen you? We
+are all so sorry!"
+
+"It was there, there, there! But it is gone now." Regaining her
+consciousness, she lays her hand nervously upon her pocket, and pursues:
+"Oh! yes, sister, it was there when I entered that vile place, as you
+call it. What am I to do? The loss of the money does not so much trouble
+my mind. Oh! dear, no. It is the thought of going home deprived of the
+means of aiding these noble institutions."
+
+Had Lady Swiggs inquired into the character of the purchaser of old
+Dolly she might now have become conscious of the fact, that whatever
+comes of evil seldom does good. The money she had so struggled to get
+together to aid her in maintaining her hypocrisy, was the result of
+crime. Perhaps it were better the wretch purloined it, than that the
+fair name of a noble institution be stained with its acceptance.
+Atonement is too often sought to be purchased with the gold got of
+infamy.
+
+The cause of this fainting being traced to Lady Swiggs' pocket book
+instead of her heart, the whole scene changes. Sister Slocum becomes as
+one dumb, the good fat man is seized with a nervous fit, the man in the
+spectacles hangs his head, and runs his fingers through his crispy hair,
+as Brother Spyke elongates his lean body, and is seen going into a
+melancholy mood, the others gathering round with serious faces. Lady
+Swiggs commences describing with great minuteness the appearance of Mr.
+Tom Toddleworth. That he is the person who carried off the money, every
+one is certain. "He is the man!" responds a dozen voices. And as many
+more volunteer to go in search of Mr. Detective Fitzgerald. Brother
+Spyke pricks up his courage, and proceeds to initiate his missionary
+labors by consulting Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, with whom he starts off
+in pursuit of Mr. Tom Toddleworth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+MR. SNIVEL ADVISES GEORGE MULLHOLLAND HOW TO MAKE STRONG LOVE.
+
+
+Let us leave for a time the pursuit with which we concluded the
+foregoing chapter, and return to Charleston. It is the still hour of
+midnight. There has been a ball at the fashionable house of the
+Flamingo, which still retains its name. In the great parlour we have
+before described, standing here and there upon massive tables with
+Egyptian marble-tops, are half-empty bottles of wine, decanters,
+tumblers, and viands of various descriptions. Bits of artificial flowers
+are strewn about the carpet, a shawl is seen thrown over one chair, a
+mantle over another; the light is half shut off--everything bears
+evidence of the gaieties of luxurious life, the sumptuous revel and the
+debauch. The gilded mirrors reflect but two faces, both hectic and moody
+of dissipation. George Mullholland and Mr. Snivel face each other, at a
+pier-table. Before them are several half filled bottles, from one of
+which Mr. Snivel fills George's glass.
+
+"There is something in this champaign (one only gets rubbish in these
+houses) that compounds and elevates one's ideas," says Mr. Snivel,
+holding his glass in the light, and squinting his blood-shotten eyes,
+the lids of which he has scarce power to keep open. "Drink,
+George--drink! You have had your day--why let such nonsense trouble
+you? The whole city is in love with the girl. Her beauty makes her
+capricious; if the old Judge has got her, let him keep her. Indeed, I'm
+not so sure that she doesn't love him, and (well, I always laugh when I
+think of it), it is a well laid down principle among us lawyers, that no
+law stands good against love." Mr. Snivel's leaden eyelids close, and
+his head drops upon his bosom. "She never can love him--never! His
+wealth, and some false tale, has beguiled her. He is a hoary-headed
+lecher, with wealth and position to aid him in his hellish pursuits; I
+am poor, and an outcast! He has flattered me and showered his favors
+upon me, only to affect my ruin. I will have--"
+
+"Pshaw! George," interrupts Mr. Snivel, brightening up, "be a
+philosopher. Chivalry, you know--chivalry! A dashing fellow like you
+should doff the kid to a knight of his metal: challenge him." Mr. Snivel
+reaches over the table and pats his opponent on the arm. "These women,
+George! Funny things, eh? Make any kind of love--have a sample for every
+sort of gallant, and can make the quantity to suit the purchaser. 'Pon
+my soul this is my opinion. I'm a lawyer, know pretty well how the sex
+lay their points. As for these unfortunate devils, as we of the
+profession call them (he pauses and empties his glass, saying, not bad
+for a house of this kind), there are so many shades of them, life is
+such a struggle with them; they dream of broken hopes, and they die
+sighing to think how good a thing is virtue. You only love this girl
+because she is beautiful, and beautiful women, at best, are the most
+capricious things in the world. D--n it, you have gone through enough of
+this kind of life to be accustomed to it. We think nothing of these
+things, in Charleston--bless you, nothing! Keep the Judge your
+friend--his position may give him a means to serve you. A man of the
+world ought at all times to have the private friendship of as many
+judges as he can."
+
+"Never! poor as I am--outcast as I feel myself! I want no such
+friendship. Society may shun me, the community may fear me, necessity
+may crush me--yea! you may regard me as a villain if you will, but, were
+I a judge, I would scorn to use my office to serve base ends." As he
+says this he draws a pistol from his pocket, and throwing it defiantly
+upon the table, continues as his lip curls with scorn, "poor men's lives
+are cheap in Charleston--let us see what rich men's are worth!"
+
+"His age, George!--you should respect that!" says Mr. Snivel,
+laconically.
+
+"His age ought to be my protection."
+
+"Ah!--you forget that the follies of our nature too often go with us to
+the grave."
+
+"And am I to suffer because public opinion honors him, and gives him
+power to disgrace me? Can he rob me of the one I love--of the one in
+whose welfare my whole soul is staked, and do it with impunity?"
+
+"D----d inconvenient, I know, George. Sympathize with you, I do. But,
+you see, we are governed here by the laws of chivalry. Don't let your (I
+am a piece of a philosopher, you see) temper get up, keep on a stiff
+upper lip. You may catch him napping. I respect your feelings, my dear
+fellow; ready to do you a bit of a good turn--you understand! Now let me
+tell you, my boy, he has made her his adopted, and to-morrow she moves
+with him to his quiet little villa near the Magnolia."
+
+"I am a poor, forlorn wretch," interrupts George, with a sigh. "Those
+of whom I had a right to expect good counsel, and a helping hand, have
+been first to encourage me in the ways of evil--"
+
+"Get money, Mullholland--get money. It takes money to make love strong.
+Say what you will, a woman's heart is sure to be sound on the gold
+question. Mark ye, Mullholland!--there is an easy way to get money. Do
+you take? (His fingers wander over his forehead, as he watches intently
+in George's face.) You can make names? Such things are done by men in
+higher walks, you know. Quite a common affair in these parts. The Judge
+has carried off your property; make a fair exchange--you can use his
+name, get money with it, and make it hold fast the woman you love. There
+are three things, George, you may set down as facts that will be of
+service to you through life, and they are these: when a man eternally
+rings in your ears the immoralities of the age, watch him closely; when
+a man makes what he has done for others a boast, set him down a knave;
+and when a woman dwells upon the excellent qualities of her many
+admirers, set her down as wanting. But, get money, and when you have got
+it, charm back this beautiful creature."
+
+Such is the advice of Mr. Soloman Snivel, the paid intriguer of the
+venerable Judge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+A SLIGHT CHANGE IN THE PICTURE.
+
+
+The two lone revellers remain at the pier-table, moody and hectic. Mr.
+Snivel drops into a sound sleep, his head resting on the marble.
+Weak-minded, jealous, contentious--with all the attendants natural to
+one who leads an unsettled life, sits George Mullholland, his elbow
+resting on the table, and his head poised thoughtfully in his hand. "I
+will have revenge--sweet revenge; yes, I will have revenge to-night!" he
+mutters, and sets his teeth firmly.
+
+In Anna's chamber all is hushed into stillness. The silvery moonbeams
+play softly through the half-closed windows, lighting up and giving an
+air of enchantment to the scene. Curtains hang, mist-like, from massive
+cornices in gilt. Satin drapery, mysteriously underlaid with lace, and
+floating in bewitching chasteness over a fairy-like bed, makes more
+voluptuous that ravishing form calmly sleeping--half revealed among the
+snowy sheets, and forming a picture before which fancy soars, passion
+unbends itself, and sentiment is led away captive. With such exquisite
+forms strange nature excites our love;--that love that like a little
+stream meanders capriciously through our feelings, refreshing life,
+purifying our thoughts, exciting our ambition, and modulating our
+actions. That love, too, like a quicksand, too often proves a destroyer
+to the weak-minded.
+
+Costly chairs, of various styles carved in black walnut, stand around
+the chamber: lounges covered with chastely-designed tapestry are seen
+half concealed by the gorgeous window curtains. The foot falls upon a
+soft, Turkey carpet; the ceiling--in French white, and gilt
+mouldings--is set off with two Cupids in a circle, frescoed by a skilled
+hand. On a lounge, concealed in an alcove masked by curtains pending
+from the hands of a fairy in bronze, and nearly opposite Anna's bed, the
+old Judge sleeps in his judicial dignity. To-day he sentenced three
+rogues to the whipping-post, and two wretched negroes--one for raising
+his hand to a white man--to the gallows.
+
+Calmly Anna continues to sleep, the lights in the girandoles shedding a
+mysterious paleness over the scene. To the eye that scans only the
+exterior of life, how dazzling! Like a refulgent cloud swelling golden
+in the evening sky, how soon it passes away into darkness and
+disappointment! Suddenly there appears, like a vision in the chamber,
+the stately figure of a female. Advancing slowly to the bed-side, for a
+minute she stands contemplating the sleeping beauty before her. A dark,
+languishing eye, an aquiline nose, beautifully-cut mouth, and a
+finely-oval face, is revealed by the shadow in which she stands. "How
+willingly," she mutters, raising the jewelled fingers of her right hand
+to her lips, as her eyes become liquid with emotion, and her every
+action betokens one whose very soul is goaded with remorse, "would I
+exchange all these worldly pleasures for one single day in peace of
+mind." She lays aside her mantle, and keeps her eyes fixed upon the
+object before her. A finely-rounded shoulder and exactly-developed bust
+is set off with a light satin bodice or corsage, cut low, opening
+shawl-fashion at the breast, and relieved with a stomacher of fine
+Brussels lace. Down the edges are rows of small, unpolished pearls,
+running into points. A skirt of orange-colored brocade, trimmed with
+tulle, and surrounded with three flounces, falls, cloud-like, from her
+girdle, which is set with cameos and unpolished pearls. With her left
+hand she raises slightly her skirts, revealing the embroidered gimps of
+a white taffeta underskirt, flashing in the moonlight. Small, unpolished
+pearls ornament the bands of her short sleeves; on her fingers are
+rings, set with diamonds and costly emeralds; and her wrists are clasped
+with bracelets of diamonds, shedding a modest lustre over her
+marble-like arms.
+
+"Can this be my child? Has this crime that so like a demon haunts
+me--that curses me even in my dreams, driven her, perhaps against her
+will, to seek this life of shame?" She takes the sleeper's hand gently
+in her own, as the tears gush down her cheeks.
+
+The sleeper startles, half raises herself from her pillow, parts her
+black, silky hair, that lays upon her gently-swelling bosom, and throws
+it carelessly down her shoulders, wildly setting her great black orbs on
+the strange figure before her. "Hush, hush!" says the speaker, "I am a
+friend. One who seeks you for a good purpose. Give me your
+confidence--do not betray me! I need not tell you by what means I gained
+access to you."
+
+A glow of sadness flashes across Anna's countenance. With a look of
+suspicion she scans the mysterious figure from head to foot. "It is the
+Judge's wife!" she says within herself. "Some one has betrayed me to
+her; and, as is too often the case, she seeks revenge of the less guilty
+party." But the figure before her is in full dress, and one seeking
+revenge would have disguised herself. "Why, and who is it, that seeks me
+in this mysterious manner?" whispers Anna, holding her delicate hand in
+the shadow, over her eyes. "I seek you in the hope of finding something
+to relieve my troubled spirit, I am a mother who has wronged her
+child--I have no peace of mind--my heart is lacerated--"
+
+"Are you, then, my mother?" interrupts Anna, with a look of scorn.
+
+"That I would answer if I could. You have occupied my thoughts day and
+night. I have traced your history up to a certain period. ("What I know
+of my own, I would fain not contemplate," interrupts Anna.) Beyond that,
+all is darkness. And yet there are circumstances that go far to prove
+you the child I seek. Last night I dreamed I saw a gate leading to a
+dungeon, that into the dungeon I was impelled against my will. While
+there I was haunted with the figure of a woman of the name of Mag
+Munday--a maniac, and in chains! My heart bled at the sight, for she, I
+thought, was the woman in whose charge I left the child I seek. I
+spoke--I asked her what had become of the child! She pointed with her
+finger, told me to go seek you here, and vanished as I awoke. I spent
+the day in unrest, went to the ball to-night, but found no pleasure in
+its gay circle. Goaded in my conscience, I left the ball-room, and with
+the aid of a confidant am here."
+
+"I recognize--yes, my lady, I recognize you! You think me your abandoned
+child, and yet you are too much the slave of society to seek me as a
+mother ought to do. I am the supposed victim of your crime; you are the
+favored and flattered ornament of society. Our likenesses have been
+compared many times:--I am glad we have met. Go, woman, go! I would not,
+outcast as I am, deign to acknowledge the mother who could enjoy the
+luxuries of life and see her child a wretch."
+
+"Woman! do not upbraid me. Spare, oh! spare my troubled heart this last
+pang," (she grasps convulsively at Anna's hand, then shrinks back in
+fright.) "Tell me! oh, tell me!" she pursues, the tears coursing down
+her cheeks--
+
+Anna Bonard interrupts by saying, peremptorily, she has nothing to tell
+one so guilty. To be thus rebuked by an abandoned woman, notwithstanding
+she might be her own child, wounded her feelings deeply. It was like
+poison drying up her very blood. Tormented with the thought of her
+error, (for she evidently labored under the smart of an error in early
+life,) her very existence now seemed a burden to her. Gloomy and
+motionless she stood, as if hesitating how best to make her escape.
+
+"Woman! I will not betray your coming here. But you cannot give me back
+my virtue; you cannot restore me untainted to the world--the world never
+forgives a fallen woman. Her own sex will be first to lacerate her heart
+with her shame." These words were spoken with such biting sarcasm, that
+the Judge, whose nap the loudness of Anna's voice had disturbed,
+protruded his flushed face and snowy locks from out the curtains of the
+alcove. "The gay Madame Montford, as I am a Christian," he exclaims in
+the eagerness of the moment, and the strange figure vanishes out of the
+door.
+
+"A fashionable, but very mysterious sort of person," pursues the Judge,
+confusedly. "Ah! ha,--her case, like many others, is the want of a clear
+conscience. Snivel has it in hand. A great knave, but a capital lawyer,
+that Snivel--"
+
+The Judge is interrupted in his remarks by the entrance of Mr. Snivel,
+who, with hectic face, and flushed eyes, comes rushing into the chamber.
+"Hollo!--old boy, there's a high bid on your head to-night. Ready to do
+you a bit of a good turn, you see." Mr. Snivel runs his fingers through
+his hair, and works his shoulders with an air of exultation. "If," he
+continues, "that weak-minded fellow--that Mullholland we have shown some
+respect to, hasn't got a pistol! He's been furbishing it up while in the
+parlor, and swears he will seriously damage you with it. Blasted
+assurance, those Northerners have. Won't fight, can't make 'em
+gentlemen; and if you knock 'em down they don't understand enough of
+chivalry to resent it. They shout to satisfy their fear and not to
+maintain their honor. Keep an eye out!"
+
+The Judge, in a tone of cool indifference, says he has no fears of the
+renegade, and will one of these days have the pleasure of sending him to
+the whipping-post.
+
+"As to that, Judge," interposes Mr. Snivel, "I have already prepared the
+preliminaries. I gave him the trifle you desired--to-morrow I will nail
+him at the Keno crib." With this the Judge and the Justice each take an
+affectionate leave of the frail girl, and, as it is now past one o'clock
+in the morning, an hour much profaned in Charleston, take their
+departure.
+
+Armed with a revolver Mullholland has taken up his position in the
+street, where he awaits the coming of his adversaries. In doubt and
+anxiety, he reflects and re-reflects, recurs to the associations of his
+past life, and hesitates. Such reflections only bring more vividly to
+his mind the wrong he feels himself the victim of, and has no power to
+resent except with violence. His contemplations only nerve him to
+revenge.
+
+A click, and the door cautiously opens, as if some votary of crime was
+about to issue forth in quest of booty. The hostess' head protrudes
+suddenly from the door, she scans first up and then down the street,
+then withdraws it. The Judge and Mr. Snivel, each in turn, shake the
+landlady by the hand, and emerge into the street. They have scarce
+stepped upon the sidepath when the report of a pistol resounds through
+the air. The ball struck a lamp-post, glanced, passed through the collar
+of Judge Sleepyhorn's coat, and brushed Mr. Snivel's fashionable
+whiskers. Madame Ashley, successor to Madame Flamingo, shrieks and
+alarms the house, which is suddenly thrown into a state of confusion.
+Acting upon the maxim of discretion being the better part of valor, the
+Judge and the Justice beat a hasty retreat into the house, and secrete
+themselves in a closet at the further end of the back-parlor.
+
+As if suddenly moved by some strange impulse, Madame Ashley runs from
+room to room, screaming at the very top of her voice, and declaring that
+she saw the assassin enter her house. Females rush from their rooms and
+into the great parlor, where they form groups of living statuary,
+strange and grotesque. Anxious faces--faces half painted, faces hectic
+of dissipation, faces waning and sallow, eyes glassy and lascivious,
+dishevelled hair floating over naked shoulders;--the flashing of
+bewitching drapery, the waving and flitting of embroidered underskirts,
+the tripping of pretty feet and prettier ankles, the gesticulating and
+swaying of half-draped bodies--such is the scene occasioned by the bench
+and the bar.
+
+Madame Ashley, having inherited of Madame Flamingo the value of a
+scrupulous regard for the good reputation of her house, must needs call
+in the watch to eject the assassin, whom she swears is concealed
+somewhere on the premises. Mr. Sergeant Stubbs, a much respected
+detective, and reputed one of the very best officers of the guard,
+inasmuch as he never troubles his head about other people's business,
+and is quite content to let every one fight their own battles,--provided
+they give him a "nip" of whiskey when they are through, lights his
+lantern and goes bobbing into every room in the house. We must here
+inform the reader that the cause of the _emeute_ was kept a profound
+secret between the judicial gentry. Madame Ashley, at the same time, is
+fully convinced the ball was intended for her, while Anna lays in a
+terrible fright in her chamber.
+
+"Ho," says Mr. Stubbs, starting back suddenly as he opened the door of
+the closet in which the two gentlemen had concealed themselves. "I see!
+I see!--beg your pardon, gentlemen!" Mr. Stubbs whispers, and bows, and
+shuts the door quickly.
+
+"An infernal affair this, Judge! D--n me if I wouldn't as soon be in the
+dock. It will all get out to-morrow," interposes Mr. Snivel,
+facetiously.
+
+"Blast these improper associations!" the high functionary exclaims,
+fussily shrugging his shoulders, and wiping the sweat from his forehead.
+"I love the girl, though, I confess it!"
+
+"Nothing more natural. A man without gallantry is like a pilgrim in the
+South-West Pass. You can't resist this charming creature. In truth it's
+a sort of longing weakness, which even the scales of justice fail to
+bring to a balance."
+
+Mr. Stubbs fails to find the assassin, and enters Madame Ashley's
+chamber, the door of which leads into the hall. Here Mr. Stubbs's quick
+eye suddenly discerns a slight motion of the curtains that enclose the
+great, square bed, standing in one corner. "I ax your pardon, Mam, but
+may I look in this 'ere bed?" Mr. Stubbs points to the bed, as Madame,
+having thrown herself into a great rocking chair, proceeds to sway her
+dignity backward and forward, and give out signs of making up her mind
+to faint.
+
+Mr. Stubbs draws back the curtains, when, behold! but tell it not in the
+by-ways, there is revealed the stalworth figure of Simon Patterson, the
+plantation parson. Our plantation parsons, be it known, are a singular
+species of depraved humanity, a sort of itinerant sermon-makers, holding
+forth here and there to the negroes of the rich planters, receiving a
+paltry pittance in return, and having in lieu of morals an excellent
+taste for whiskey, an article they invariably call to their aid when
+discoursing to the ignorant slave--telling him how content with his lot
+he ought to be, seeing that God intended him only for ignorance and
+servitude. The parson did, indeed, cut a sorry figure before the gaze of
+this indescribable group, as it rushed into the room and commenced
+heaping upon his head epithets delicacy forbids our inserting
+here--calling him a clerical old lecher, an assassin, and a disturber of
+the peace and respectability of the house. Indeed, Madame Ashley quite
+forgot to faint, and with a display of courage amounting almost to
+heroism, rushed at the poor parson, and had left him in the state he was
+born but for the timely precautions of Mr. Stubbs, who, finding a
+revolver in his possession, and wanting no better proof of his guilt,
+straightway took him off to the guard-house. Parson Patterson would have
+entered the most solemn and pious protestation of his innocence but the
+evidence was so strong against him, and the zeal of Mr. Sergeant Stubbs
+so apparent, that he held it the better policy to quietly submit to the
+rough fare of his new lodgings.
+
+"I have a terror of these brawls!" says Mr. Snivel, emerging from his
+hiding-place, and entering the chamber, followed by the high legal
+functionary.
+
+"A pretty how-do-ye-do, this is;" returns Madame Ashley, cooling her
+passion in the rocking-chair, "I never had much respect for parsons--"
+
+"Parsons?" interrupts Mr. Snivel, inquiringly, "you don't mean to say it
+was all the doings of a parson?"
+
+"As I'm a lady it was no one else. He was discovered behind the curtain
+there, a terrible pistol in his pocket--the wretch!"
+
+Mr. Snivel exchanges a wink with the Judge, points his thumb over his
+left shoulder, and says, captiously: "I always had an implacable hatred
+of that old thief. A bad lot! these plantation parsons."
+
+Mr. Stubbs having discovered and removed the assassin, the terrified
+damsels return to their chambers, and Madame Ashley proceeds to close
+her house, as the two legal gentlemen take their departure. Perhaps it
+would be well to inform the reader that a principal cause of Anna's
+preference for the Judge, so recently manifested, was the deep
+impression made on her already suspicious mind by Mr. McArthur, the
+antiquary, who revealed to her sincerely, as she thought, her future
+dark destiny.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI.
+
+IN WHICH A HIGH FUNCTIONARY IS MADE TO PLAY A SINGULAR PART.
+
+
+The morning following the events detailed in the foregoing chapter,
+finds the august Sleepyhorn seated on his judgment-seat. The clock
+strikes ten as he casts his heavy eyes over the grotesque group gathered
+into his little, dingy court-room; and he bows to his clerk, of whom he
+gets his law knowledge, and with his right hand makes a sign that he is
+ready to admonish the erring, or pass sentence on any amount of
+criminals. History affords no record of a judge so unrelenting of his
+judgments.
+
+A few dilapidated gentlemen of the "_learned_ profession," with sharp
+features and anxious faces, fuss about among the crowd, reeking of
+whiskey and tobacco. Now they whisper suspiciously in the ears of
+forlorn prisoners, now they struggle to get a market for their legal
+nostrums. A few, more respectably clothed and less vicious of aspect,
+sit writing at a table inside the bar, while a dozen or more punch-faced
+policemen, affecting an air of superiority, drag themselves lazily
+through the crowd of seedy humanity, looking querulously over the
+railing encircling the dock, or exchanging recognitions with friends.
+
+Some twenty "negro cases" having been disposed of without much respect
+to law, and being sent up for punishment (the Judge finds it more
+convenient to forego testimony in these cases), a daughter of the
+Emerald Isle, standing nearly six feet in her bare soles, and much
+shattered about the dress, is, against her inclination, arraigned before
+his Honor. "I think I have seen you before, Mrs. Donahue?" says the
+Judge, inquiringly.
+
+"Arrah, good-morning, yer 'onher! Shure, it's only the sixth time these
+three weeks. Doesn't meself like to see yer smiling face, onyhow!" Here
+Mrs. Donahue commences complimenting the Judge in one breath, and laying
+no end of charges at the door of the very diminutive and harmless Mister
+Donahue in the next.
+
+"This being the sixth time," returns his Honor, somewhat seriously, "I
+would advise you to compromise the matter with Donahue, and not be seen
+here again. The state of South Carolina cannot pay your fees so often--"
+
+"Och, bad luck to Donahue! Troth, an' if yer onher'd put the fees down
+to Donahue, our acquaintance 'ouldn't be so fraquent." Mrs. Donahue says
+this with great unction, throwing her uncombed hair back, then daintily
+raising her dress apace, and inquiring of Mr. Sheriff Hardscrabble, who
+sits on his Honor's left, peering sharply through his spectacles, how he
+likes the spread of her broad, flat foot; "the charging the fees to
+Donahue, yer onher, 'd do it!" There was more truth in this remark than
+his Honor seemed to comprehend, for having heard the charge against her
+(Mr. Donahue having been caught in the act of taking a drop of her gin,
+she had well-nigh broken his head with the bottle), and having listened
+attentively while poor Donahue related his wrongs, and exhibited two
+very well blacked eyes and a broken nose, he came to the very just
+conclusion that it were well to save the blood of the Donahues. And to
+this end did he grant Mrs. Donahue board and lodging for one month in
+the old prison. Mrs. Donahue is led away, heaping curses on the head of
+Donahue, and compliments on that of his Honor.
+
+A pale, sickly looking boy, some eleven years old, is next placed upon
+the stand. Mr. Sergeant Stubbs, who leans his corpulent figure against
+the clerk's desk, every few minutes bowing his sleepy head to some
+friend in the crowd, says: "A hard 'un--don't do no good about here. A
+vagrant; found him sleeping in the market."
+
+His Honor looks at the poor boy for some minutes, a smile of kindliness
+seems lighting up his face; he says he would there were some place of
+refuge--a place where reformation rather than punishment might be the
+aim and end, where such poor creatures could be sent to, instead of
+confining them in cells occupied by depraved prisoners.
+
+Mr. Sheriff Hardscrabble, always eager to get every one into jail he
+can, inasmuch as it pays him twenty-two cents a day clear profit on each
+and every person confined, says: "A hard customer. Found sleeping in the
+market, eh? Well, we must merge him in a tub of water, and scrub him up
+a little." Mr. Hardscrabble views him with an air of satisfaction,
+touches him with a small cane he holds in his hand, as if he were
+something very common. Indeed, Mr. Hardscrabble seems quite at a loss to
+know what species of animal he is, or whether he be really intended for
+any other use than filling up his cells and returning him twenty-two
+cents a day clear profit. "Probably an incendiary," mutters the
+sagacious sheriff. The helpless boy would explain how he came to sleep
+in the market--how he, a poor cabin-boy, walked, foot-sore and hungry,
+from Wilmington, in the hope of getting a ship; and being moneyless and
+friendless he laid down in the market to sleep. Mr. Hardscrabble,
+however, suggests that such stories are extremely common. His Honor
+thinks it not worth while to differ from this opinion, but to the end
+that no great legal wisdom may be thrown away, he orders the accused to
+be sent to the common jail for three months. This, in the opinion of
+Judge Sleepyhorn, is an extremely mild penalty for being found sleeping
+in the market.
+
+Next there comes forward a lean, up-country Cracker, (an half-civilized
+native,) who commences telling his story with commendable simplicity,
+the Judge in the meanwhile endeavoring to suppress a smile, which the
+quaintness of his remarks excite. Making a tenement of his cart, as is
+usual with these people when they visit the city, which they do now and
+then for the purpose of replenishing their stock of whiskey, he had,
+about eleven o'clock on the previous night, been set upon by three
+intoxicated students, who, having driven off his mule, overturned his
+cart, landing him and his wife prostrate in the ditch. A great noise was
+the result, and the guard, with their accustomed zeal for seizing upon
+the innocent party, dragged up the weaker (the Cracker and his wife) and
+let the guilty go free. He had brought the good wife, he added, as a
+living evidence of the truth of what he said, and would bring the mule
+if his honor was not satisfied. The good wife commences a volley of what
+she is pleased to call voluntary testimony, praising and defending all
+the good qualities of her much-abused husband, without permitting any
+one else an opposing word. No sufficient charge being brought against
+the Cracker (he wisely slipped a five dollar bill into the hands of
+Stubbs), he joins his good wife and goes on his way rejoicing.
+
+During this little episode between the court and the Cracker's wife,
+Madame Grace Ashley, arrayed in her most fashionable toilet, comes
+blazing into Court, bows to the Judge and a few of her most select
+friends of the Bar. A seat for Madame is provided near his Honor's desk.
+His Honor's blushes seem somewhat overtaxed; Madame, on the other hand,
+is not at all disconcerted; indeed, she claims an extensive acquaintance
+with the most distinguished of the Bar.
+
+The Judge suggests to Mr. Stubbs that it would be as well to waive the
+charge against the clergyman. Somewhat the worse for his night in the
+guard-house, Parson Patterson comes forward and commences in the most
+unintelligible manner to explain the whole affair, when the Judge very
+blandly interrupts by inquiring if he is a member of the clergy at this
+moment. "Welle," returns the parson, with characteristic drawl, "can't
+zactly say I am." The natural seediness of the parson excites suspicion,
+nevertheless he is scrupulous of his white cravat, and preserves withal
+a strictly clerical aspect. Having paused a few moments and exchanged
+glances with the Judge, he continues: "I do nigger preaching on
+Sunday--that is (Parson Patterson corrects himself), I hold forth, here
+and there--we are all flesh and blood--on plantations when I have a
+demand for my services. Our large planters hold it good policy to
+encourage the piety of their property."
+
+"You make a good thing of it?" inquires the Judge, jocosely. The parson
+replies, with much meekness of manner, that business is not so good as
+it was, planters having got it into their heads that sermons can be got
+at a very low figure. Here he commences to explain his singular
+position. He happened to meet an old and much-esteemed friend, whom he
+accompanied home, and while spending the evening conversing on
+spiritual matters--it was best not to lie--he took a little too much. On
+his way to the hotel he selected Beresford street as a short cut, and
+being near the house where he was unfortunately found when the shooting
+took place, he ran into it to escape the police--
+
+"Don't believe a word he says," interrupts Madame Ashley, springing
+suddenly to her feet, and commencing to pour out her phials of wrath on
+the head of the poor parson, whom she accuses of being a suspicious and
+extremely unprofitable frequenter of her house, which she describes as
+exceedingly respectable. "Your Honor can bear me out in what I say!"
+pursues Madame, bowing with an air of exultation, as the sheriff demands
+order.
+
+"A sorry lot, these plantation preachers! Punish him right soundly, your
+honor. It is not the first time he has damaged the respectability of my
+house!" again interrupts Madame Ashley. His Honor replies only with a
+blush. Mr. Snivel, who watches with quisical countenance, over the bar,
+enjoys the joke wonderfully.
+
+Order being restored, the Judge turns to address the parson.
+
+"I see, my friend--I always address my prisoners familiarly--you place
+but little value on the fact of your being a clergyman, on the ground
+that you only preach to slaves. This charge brought against you is a
+grave one--I assure you! And I cannot incline to the view you take of
+your profession. I may not be as erudite as some; however, I hold it
+that the ignorant and not the learned have most need of good example."
+
+"Aye! I always told the old reprobate so," interposes Madam Ashley, with
+great fervor.
+
+"A charge," resumes the Judge, "quite sufficient to warrant me in
+committing you to durance vile, might be preferred. You may thank my
+generosity that it is not. These houses, as you know, Mr. Patterson, are
+not only dangerous, but damaging to men of potent morality like you."
+
+"But, your Honor knows, they are much frequented," meekly drawls the
+parson.
+
+"It affords no palliation," sharply responds the Judge, his face
+crimsoning with blushes. "Mark ye, my friend of the clergy, these places
+make sad destruction of our young men. Indeed I may say with becoming
+sincerity and truth, that they spread a poison over the community, and
+act as the great enemy of our social system."
+
+"Heigh ho!" ejaculates Madame Ashley, to the great delight of the throng
+assembled, "Satan has come to rebuke sin." Madame bids his Honor a very
+polite good morning, and takes her departure, looking disdainfully over
+her shoulder as she disappears out of the door.
+
+Not a little disturbed in his equanimity, the Judge pursues his charge.
+"The clergy ought to keep their garments clear of such places, for being
+the source of all evil, the effect on the community is not good--I mean
+when such things are brought to light! I would address you frankly and
+admonish you to go no more into such places. Let your ways merit the
+approbation of those to whom you preach the Gospel. You can go.
+Henceforth, live after the ways of the virtuous."
+
+Parson Patterson thanks his Honor, begs to assure him of his innocence,
+and seems only too anxious to get away. His Honor bows to Mr. Patterson,
+Mr. Patterson returns it, and adds another for the audience, whereupon
+the court adjourns, and so ends the episode. His Honor takes Mr.
+Snivel's arm, and together they proceed to the "most convenient" saloon,
+where, over a well-compounded punch, "the bench and the bar" compliment
+each other on the happy disposal of such vexatious cases.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII.
+
+THE HOUSE OF THE NINE NATIONS, AND WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN IT.
+
+
+On the corner of Anthony street and the Points,[4] in New-York, there
+stands, like a grim savage, the house of the Nine Nations, a dingy
+wooden tenement, that for twenty years has threatened to tumble away
+from its more upright neighbor, and before which the stranger wayfarer
+is seen to stop and contemplate. In a neighborhood redolent of crime,
+there it stands, its vices thick upon its head, exciting in the mind of
+the observer its association with some dark and terrible deed. On the
+one side, opens that area of misery, mud and sombre walls, called "Cow
+Bay;" on the other a triangular plot, reeking with the garbage of the
+miserable cellars that flank it, and in which swarms of wasting beings
+seek a hiding-place, inhale pestilential air, and die. Gutters running
+with seething matter; homeless outcasts sitting, besotted, on crazy
+doorsteps; the vicious, with savage visage, and keen, watchful eye,
+loitering at the doors of filthy "groceries;" the sickly and neglected
+child crawling upon the side-pave, or seeking a crust to appease its
+hunger--all are found here, gasping, in rags, a breath of air by day, or
+seeking a shelter, at night, in dens so abject that the world can
+furnish no counterpart. And this forlorn picture of dilapidated houses,
+half-clad, squabbish women, blistered-faced men, and sickly children,
+the house of the Nine Nations overlooks. And yet this house, to the
+disgrace of an opulent people be it said, is but the sample of an
+hundred others standing in the same neighborhood.
+
+[Footnote 4: Now Worth street and Mission Place.]
+
+With its basement-doors opening into its bottomless pit; with its
+continual outgoing and ingoing of sooty and cruel-visaged denizens; with
+its rickety old steps leading to the second story; with its battered
+windows, begrimed walls, demolished shutters, clapboards hanging at
+sixes and sevens--with its suspicious aspect;--there it stands, with its
+distained sign over the doors of its bottomless pit. You may read on
+this sign, that a gentleman from Ireland, who for convenience' sake we
+will call Mr. Krone, is licensed to sell imported and other liquors.
+
+Indeed the house of the Nine Nations would seem to say within itself: "I
+am mother of this banquet of death you behold with your eyes." There it
+stands, its stream of poison hurrying its victims to the grave; its
+little dark passages leading to curious hiding-places; its caving roof,
+and its ominous-looking back platform, overlooking the dead walls of
+Murderers' Yard. How it mocks your philanthropy, your regal edifices,
+your boasted charities--your gorgeous churches! Everybody but the
+corporation knows the house of the Nine Nations, a haunt for wasted
+prostitutes, assassins, burglars, thieves--every grade of criminals
+known to depraved nature. The corporation would seem either to have a
+charming sympathy for it, or to look upon it with that good-natured
+indifference so happily illustrated while eating its oysters and
+drinking its whiskey. An empty-headed corporation is sure always to
+have its hands very full, which is the case with yours at this moment.
+Having the people's money to waste, its own ambition to serve, and its
+hat to fill with political waste paper--what more would you ask of it?
+
+The man of the house of the Nine Nations, you ought to know, makes
+criminals by the hundred, deluges your alms houses with paupers, and
+makes your Potters' field reek with his victims: for this he is become
+rich. Mr. Krone is an intimate friend of more than one Councilman, and a
+man of much measure in the political world--that is, Mr. Krone is a
+politician-maker. When you say there exists too close an intimacy
+between the pugilist and the politician, Mr. Krone will bet twenty
+drinks with any one of his customers that he can prove such doctrines at
+fault. He can secure the election of his favorite candidate with the
+same facility that he can make an hundred paupers per week. You may well
+believe him a choice flower in the bouquet of the corporation; we mean
+the corporation that banquets and becomes jubilant while assassins stab
+their victims in the broad street--that becomes befogged while bands of
+ruffians disgrace the city with their fiendish outrages--that makes
+presidents and drinks whiskey when the city would seem given over to the
+swell-mobsman--when no security is offered to life, and wholesale
+harlotry, flaunting with naked arms and bared bosoms, passes along in
+possession of Broadway by night.
+
+It is the night succeeding the day Lady Swiggs discovered, at the house
+of the Foreign Missions, the loss of her cherished donations. As this is
+a world of disappointments, Lady Swiggs resigns herself to this most
+galling of all, and with her Milton firmly grasped in her hand, may be
+seen in a little room at Sister Scudder's, rocking herself in the
+arm-chair, and wondering if Brother Spyke has captured the
+robber-wretch. A chilly wind howls, and a drizzling rain falls thick
+over the dingy dwellings of the Points, which, sullen and dark, seem in
+a dripping mood. A glimmering light, here and there, throws curious
+shadows over the liquid streets. Now the drenched form of some
+half-naked and homeless being is reflected, standing shivering in the
+entrance to some dark and narrow alley; then the half-crazed inebriate
+hurries into the open door of a dismal cellar, or seeks eagerly a
+shelter for his bewildered head, in some suspicious den. Flashing
+through the shadow of the police lamp, in "Cow Bay," a forlorn female is
+seen, a bottle held tightly under her shawl. Sailing as it were into the
+bottomless pit of the house of the Nine Nations, then suddenly returning
+with the drug, seeking the cheerless garret of her dissolute partner,
+and there striving to blunt her feelings against the horrors of
+starvation.
+
+Two men stand, an umbrella over their heads, at the corner, in the glare
+of the bottomless pit, which is in a blaze of light, and crowded with
+savage-faced figures, of various ages and colors,--all habited in the
+poison-seller's uniform of rags. "I don't think you'll find him here,
+sir," says one, addressing the other, who is tall and slender of person,
+and singularly timid. "God knows I am a stranger here. To-morrow I leave
+for Antioch," is the reply, delivered in nervous accents. The one is
+Brother Syngleton Spyke, the other Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, a man of
+more than middle stature, with compact figure, firmly-knit limbs, and an
+expression of countenance rather pleasant.
+
+"You see, sir, this Toddleworth is a harmless creature, always aims to
+be obliging and civil. I don't, sir--I really don't think he'll steal.
+But one can't tell what a man will do who is driven to such straits as
+the poor devils here are. We rather like Toddleworth at the station,
+look upon him as rather wanting in the head, and for that reason rather
+incline to favor him. I may say we now and then let him 'tie up' all
+night in the station. And for this he seems very thankful. I may say,"
+continues Mr. Fitzgerald, touching the visor of his cap, "that he always
+repays with kindness any little attention we may extend to him at the
+station, and at times seems too anxious to make it his home. We give him
+a shirt and a few shillings now and then; and when we want to be rid of
+him we begin to talk about fashionable wives. He is sure to go then.
+Can't stand such a topic, I assure you, sir, and is sure to go off in a
+huff when Sergeant Pottle starts it."
+
+They enter the great door of the bottomless pit; the young missionary
+hesitates. His countenance changes, his eyes scan steadily over the
+scene. A room some sixty feet by twenty opens to his astonished eyes.
+Its black, boarded walls, and bare beams, are enlivened here and there
+with extravagant pictures of notorious pugilists, show-bills, and
+illustrated advertisements of lascivious books, in which the murder of
+an unfortunate woman is the principal feature. Slippery mud covers the
+floor. Mr. Krone sits on an empty whiskey-barrel, his stunted features
+betraying the hardened avarice of his character. He smokes his black
+pipe, folds his arms deliberately, discoursing of the affairs of the
+nation to two stupefied negroes and one blear-eyed son of the Emerald
+Isle. Three uncouth females, with hair hanging matted over their faces,
+and their features hidden in distortion, stand cooling their bared limbs
+at a running faucet just inside the door, to the left. A group of
+half-naked negroes lie insensible on the floor, to the right. A little
+further on two prostrate females, shivering, and reeking of gin, sleep
+undisturbed by the profanity that is making the very air resound. "The
+gin gets a-many of us," is the mournful cry of many a wasting inebriate.
+Mr. Krone, however, will tell you he has no sympathy with such cries.
+You arraign, and perhaps punish, the apothecary who sells by mistake his
+deadly drug. With a philosophical air, Mr. Krone will tell you he deals
+out his poison without scruple, fills alms-houses without a pang of
+remorse, and proves that a politician-maker may do much to degrade
+society and remain in high favor with his friends of the bench of
+justice. On one side of the dungeon-like place stands a rickety old
+counter, behind which three savage-faced men stand, filling and serving
+incessant potions of deleterious liquor to the miserable beings, haggard
+and ragged, crowding to be first served. Behind the bar, or counter,
+rises a pyramid of dingy shelves, on which are arranged little painted
+kegs, labelled, and made bright by the glaring gas-light reflected upon
+them. On the opposite side, on rows of slab benches, sit a group of
+motley beings,--the young girl and the old man, the negro and the frail
+white,--half sleeping, half conscious; all imbibing the stifling
+draught.
+
+Like revelling witches in rags, and seen through the bedimmed atmosphere
+at the further end of the den, are half-frantic men, women, and girls,
+now sitting at deal tables, playing for drinks, now jostling, jeering,
+and profaning in wild disorder. A girl of sixteen, wasted and deformed
+with dissipation, approaches Brother Spyke, extends her blanched hand,
+and importunes him for gin. He shudders, and shrinks from her touch, as
+from a reptile. A look of scorn, and she turns from him, and is lost
+among the grotesque crowd in the distance.
+
+"This gin," says Mr. Fitzgerald, turning methodically to Brother Spyke,
+"they make do for food and clothing. We used to call this the devil's
+paradise. As to Krone, we used to call him the devil's bar-tender. These
+ragged revellers, you see, beg and steal during the day, and get gin
+with it at night. Krone thinks nothing of it! Lord bless your soul, sir!
+why, this man is reckoned a tip-top politician; on an emergency he can
+turn up such a lot of votes!" Mr. Fitzgerald, approaching Mr. Krone,
+says "you're a pretty fellow. Keeping such a place as this!" The
+detective playfully strikes the hat of the other, crowding it over his
+eyes, and inquiring if he has seen Tom Toddleworth during the day. Mr.
+Toddleworth was not seen during the day. No one in the bottomless pit
+knows where he may be found. A dozen husky voices are heard to say, he
+has no home--stores himself away anywhere, and may be found everywhere.
+
+Brother Spyke bows, and sighs. Mr. Fitzgerald says: "he is always
+harmless--this Toddleworth." As the two searchers are about to withdraw,
+the shrunken figure of a woman rushes wildly into the pit. "Devils!
+devils!--hideous devils of darkness! here you are--still
+hover--hover--hovering; turning midnight into revelling, day into horrid
+dreaming!" she shrieks at the top of her voice. Now she pauses suddenly,
+and with a demoniacal laugh sets her dull, glassy eyes on Mr. Krone,
+then walks round him with clenched fists and threatening gestures. The
+politician-maker sits unmoved. Now she throws her hair about her bare
+breasts, turns her eyes upward, imploringly, and approaches Brother
+Spyke, with hand extended. Her tale of sorrow and suffering is written
+in her very look. "She won't hurt you--never harms anybody;" says Mr.
+Fitzgerald, methodically, observing Brother Spyke's timidity.
+
+"No, no, no," she mutters incoherently, "you are not of this place--you
+know, like the rich world up-town, little of these revelling devils.
+Cling! yes, cling to the wise one--tell him to keep you from this, and
+forever be your teacher. Tell him! tell him! oh! tell him!" She wrings
+her hands, and having sailed as it were into the further end of the pit,
+vaults back, and commences a series of wild gyrations round Mr. Krone.
+
+"Poor wretch!" says Brother Spyke, complacently, "the gin has dried up
+her senses--made her what she is."
+
+"Maniac Munday! Maniac Munday!" suddenly echoes and re-echoes through
+the pit. She turns her ear, and with a listless countenance listens
+attentively, then breaks out into an hysterical laugh. "Yes! ye
+loathsome denizens. Like me, no one seeks you, no one cares for you. I
+am poor, poor maniac Munday. The maniac that one fell error brought to
+this awful end." Again she lowers her voice, flings her hair back over
+her shoulders, and gives vent to her tears. Like one burdened with
+sorrow she commences humming an air, that even in this dark den floats
+sweetly through the polluted atmosphere. "Well, I am what I am," she
+sighs, having paused in her tune. "That one fatal step--that plighted
+faith! How bitter to look back." Her bony fingers wander to her lips,
+which she commences biting and fretting, as her countenance becomes pale
+and corpse-like. Again her reason takes its flight. She staggers to the
+drenched counter, holds forth her bottle, lays her last sixpence
+tauntingly upon the board, and watches with glassy eyes the drawing of
+the poisonous drug. Meanwhile Mr. Krone, with an imprecation, declares
+he has power to elect his candidate to the Senate. The man behind the
+counter--the man of savage face, has filled the maniac's bottle, which
+he pushes toward her with one hand, as with the other he sweeps her coin
+into a drawer. "Oh! save poor maniac Munday--save poor maniac Munday!"
+the woman cries, like one in despair, clutching the bottle, and reels
+out of the pit.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+IN WHICH IS PRESENTED ANOTHER PICTURE OF THE HOUSE OF THE NINE NATIONS.
+
+
+Pale and hesitating, Brother Spyke says: "I have no passion for delving
+into such places; and having seen enough for one night, am content to
+leave the search for this vile old man to you." The valiant missionary
+addresses Mr. Fitzgerald, who stands with one foot upon the rickety old
+steps that lead to the second story of the House of the Nine Nations.
+
+This morning, Brother Spyke was ready to do battle with the whole
+heathen world, to drag it up into light, to evangelize it. Now he quails
+before this heathen world, so terribly dark, at his own door.
+
+"You have, sir," says the detective, "seen nuthin' as yet. The sights
+are in these 'ere upper dens; but, I may say it, a body wants nerve.
+Some of our Aldermen say ye can't see such sights nowhere else."
+
+The missionary replies, holding tenaciously to his umbrella, "That may
+be true; but I fear they will be waiting me at home." Again he scans
+inquiringly into the drenched area of the Points; then bidding the
+officer good-night, is soon out of sight, on his way into Centre Street.
+Reaching the old stoop, the detective touches a spring, and the
+shattered door opens into a narrow, gloomy passage, along which he
+gropes his way, over a floor cobbled with filth, and against an
+atmosphere thick of disease. Now a faint light flashes through a crevice
+in the left wall, plays fantastically upon the black surface of the
+opposite, then dies away. The detective lights his lantern, stands a
+moment with his ear turned, as if listening to the revelry in the
+bottomless pit. A door opens to his touch, he enters a cave-like
+room--it is the one from out which the light stole so curiously, and in
+which all is misery and sadness. A few embers still burn in a great
+brick fireplace, shedding a lurid glow over the damp, filthy walls, the
+discolored ceiling, and the grotesque group upon the floor. "You needn't
+come at this time of night--we are all honest people;" speaks a massive
+negro, of savage visage, who (he is clothed in rags) sits at the left
+side of the fireplace. He coaxes the remnant of his fire to cook some
+coarse food he has placed in a small, black stew-pan, he watches with
+steady gaze. Three white females (we blush to say it), their bare,
+brawny arms resting on their knees, and their disfigured faces drooped
+into their hands, form an half circle on the opposite side.
+
+"The world don't think nothin' of us down here--we haven't had a bite to
+eat to-night," gruffly resumes the negro.
+
+"May them that have riches enjoy them, for to be supperless is no
+uncommon thing wid us," interrupts one of the women, gathering about her
+the shreds of her tattered garment, parting the matted hair over her
+face, and revealing her ghastly features. The detective turns his light
+full upon her. "If we live we live, if we die we die--nobody cares! Look
+you yonder, Mr. Fitzgerald," continues the negro, with a sarcastic leer.
+Turning his light to where the negro points, the detective casts a
+glance into the shadow, and there discovers the rags move. A dozen pair
+of glassy eyes are seen peering from out the filthy coverings, over
+which lean arms and blanched hands keep up an incessant motion. Here an
+emaciated and heart-sick Welsh girl, of thirteen (enciente) lays
+shivering on the broken floor; there an half-famished Scotch woman, two
+moaning children nestling at her heart, suffers uncovered upon a pallet
+of straw. The busy world without would seem not to have a care for her;
+the clergy have got the heathen world upon their shoulders. Hunger, like
+a grim tyrant, has driven her to seek shelter in this wretched abode.
+Despair has made her but too anxious that the grave or prison walls
+should close the record of her sorrows. How tightly she with her right
+hand presses her babe to her bosom; how appealingly with her left she
+asks a pittance of the detective! Will he not save from death her
+starving child? He has nothing to give her, turns his head, answers only
+with a look of pity, and moves slowly towards the door.
+
+"You have not been long off the Island, Washington?" inquires the
+detective, with an air of familiarity.
+
+"I wish," replies the negro, sullenly, "I was back. An honest man as I
+is, can't get on in this world. Necessity makes rascals of better men
+than me, Mr. Fitzgerald. Mr. Krone (he's a white man, though) makes all
+the politicians for the district, and charges me eight dollars a month
+for this hole. Just measure them two things together, Mr. Fitzgerald;
+then see if takin' in sixpenny, lodgers pays." Mr. Fitzgerald commences
+counting them. "You needn't count," pursues the negro, uncovering his
+stew-pan, "there's only eighteen in to-night. Have twenty, sometimes!
+Don't get nothin' for that poor Scotch woman an' her children. Can't
+get it when they hain't got it--you know that, Mr. Fitzgerald."
+
+The detective inquires if any of them have seen Mr. Toddleworth to-day.
+Washington has not seen him, and makes no scruple of saying he thinks
+very little of him.
+
+"Faith an' it's hard times with poor Tom," speaks up one of the women,
+in a deep brogue. "It was only last night--the same I'm tellin' is true,
+God knows--Mrs. McCarty took him to the Rookery--the divil a mouthful
+he'd ate durin' the day--and says, bein' a ginerous sort of body, come,
+take a drop, an' a bite to ate. Mister Toddleworth did that same, and
+thin lay the night on the floor. To-night--it's the truth, God
+knows--Tom Downey took him above. An' it's Tom who woundn't be the frind
+of the man who hadn't a shillin' in his pocket."
+
+The detective shrugs his shoulders, and having thanked the woman,
+withdraws into the passage, to the end of which he cautiously picks his
+way, and knocks at a distained door that fronts him. A voice deep and
+husky bids him enter, which he does, as the lurid glare of his lantern
+reveals a room some twelve by sixteen feet, the plaster hanging in
+festoons from the black walls, and so low of ceiling that he scarce can
+stand upright. Four bunk-beds, a little bureau, a broken chair or two,
+and a few cheap pictures, hung here and there on the sombre walls, give
+it an air of comfort in grateful contrast with the room just left. "Who
+lives here?" inquires the detective, turning his light full upon each
+object that attracts his attention. "Shure it's only me--Mrs. Terence
+Murphy--and my three sisters (the youngest is scarce fourteen), and the
+two English sisters: all honest people, God knows," replies Mrs. Murphy,
+with a rapid tongue.
+
+"It's not right of you to live this way," returns the detective,
+continuing to survey the prostrate forms of Mrs. Murphy, her three
+sisters, and the two fair-haired English girls, and the besotted beings
+they claim as husbands. Alarm is pictured in every countenance. A
+browned face withdraws under a dingy coverlid, an anxious face peers
+from out a pallet on the floor, a prostrate figure in the corner
+inquires the object of Mr. Detective Fitzgerald's visit--and Mrs.
+Murphy, holding it more becoming of respectable society, leaves the bed
+in which she had accommodated five others, and gets into one she calls
+her own. A second thought, and she makes up her mind not to get into
+bed, but to ask Mr. Fitzgerald if he will be good enough, when next he
+meets his Onher, the Mayor, just to say to him how Mr. Krone is bringing
+disgrace upon the house and every one in it, by letting rooms to
+negroes. Here she commences pouring out her pent-up wrath upon the head
+of Mr. Krone, and the colored gentleman, whom she declares has a dozen
+white females in his room every night. The detective encourages her by
+saying it is not right of Mr. Krone, who looks more at the color of his
+money than the skin of his tenants. "To come of a dacint family--and be
+brought to this!" says Mrs. Murphy, allowing her passion to rise, and
+swearing to have revenge of the negro in the next room.
+
+"You drink this gin, yet--I have warned you against it," interposes the
+detective, pointing to some bottles on the bureau. "Faith, an' it's the
+gin gets a many of us," returns the woman, curtly, as she gathers about
+her the skirts of her garments. "Onyhow, yerself wouldn't deprive us of
+a drop now and then, jist to keep up the spirits." The detective shakes
+his head, then discloses to them the object of his search, adding, in
+parenthesis, that he does not think Mr. Toddleworth is the thief. A
+dozen tongues are ready to confirm the detective's belief. "Not a
+shillin' of it did the poor crature take--indeed he didn't, now, Mr.
+Fitzgerald. 'Onor's 'onor, all over the wurld!" says Mrs. Murphy,
+grasping the detective by the hand. "Stay till I tell ye all about it.
+Mary Maguire--indeed an' ye knows her, Mr. Fitzgerald--this same
+afternoon looked in to say--'how do ye do, Mrs. Murphy. See this! Mrs.
+Murphy,' says she, 'an' the divil a sich a pocket of money I'd see
+before, as she held in her right hand, jist. 'Long life to ye, Mary,'
+says I. 'We'll have a pint, Mrs. Murphy,' says she. 'May ye niver want
+the worth of it,' says I. And the pint was not long in, when Mary got a
+little the worse of it, and let all out about the money. 'You won't
+whisper it, Mrs. Murphy,' says she, 'if I'd tell ye in confidence by
+what manes I got the lift?'"
+
+"'Not in the wide world, Mary,' says I; 'ye may trust me for that same.'
+'Shure didn't I raise it from the pocket of an auld woman in spectacles,
+that watched the fool beyant dig up the corporation.' 'An' it'll not do
+yerself much good,' says I, liftin' the same, and cuttin' away to the
+house. 'You won't whisper it?' says she."
+
+"I can confirm the truth of that same," rejoins a brusque-figured man,
+rising from his pallet, and speaking with regained confidence. "Mary
+looked in at the Blazers, and being the worse of liquor, showed a dale
+of ready money, and trated everybody, and gave the money to everybody,
+and was wilcome wid everybody. Then Mrs. McCarty got aboard of her
+ginerosity, and got her into the Rookery, where the Miss McCartys
+thought it would not be amiss to have a quart. The same was brought in,
+and Mary hersel' was soon like a dead woman on the floor, jist--"
+
+"And they got the money all away?" interrupts the detective.
+
+"Faith, an' she'll not have a blessed dollar come daylight," continues
+the man, resuming his pallet.
+
+The detective bids Mrs. Murphy good night, and is soon groping his way
+over a rickety old floor, along a dark, narrow passage, scarce high
+enough to admit him, and running at right angles with the first. A door
+on the left opens into a grotto-like place, the sickly atmosphere of
+which seems hurling its poison into the very blood. "Who's here?"
+inquires the detective, and a voice, feeble and hollow, responds:
+"Lodgers!"
+
+The damp, greasy walls; the broken ceilings; the sooty fireplace, with
+its shattered bricks; the decayed wainscoating--its dark, forlorn
+aspect, all bespeak it the fit abode of rats. And yet Mr. Krone thinks
+it comfortable enough (the authorities think Mr. Krone the best judge)
+for the accommodation of thirteen remnants of human misery, all of whom
+are here huddled together on the wet, broken floor, borrowing warmth of
+one another. The detective's light falls curiously upon the dread
+picture, which he stands contemplating. A pale, sickly girl, of some
+eleven summers, her hair falling wildly over her wan features, lays upon
+some rags near the fireplace, clinging to an inebriated mother. Here a
+father, heart-sick and prostrate with disease, seeks to keep warm his
+three ragged children, nestling about him. An homeless outcast,
+necessity forces him to send them out to prey upon the community by day,
+and to seek in this wretched hovel a shelter at night. Yonder the rags
+are thrown back, a moving mass is disclosed, and there protrudes a
+disfigured face, made ghostly by the shadow of the detective's lantern.
+At the detective's feet a prostrate girl, insensible of gin, is seized
+with convulsions, clutches with wasted hands at the few rags about her
+poor, flabby body, then with fingers grasping, and teeth firmly set, her
+whole frame writhes in agony. Your missionary never whispered a kind,
+encouraging word in her ear; his hand never pressed that blanched bone
+with which she now saddens your heart! Different might it have been with
+her had some gentle-tongued Brother Spyke sought her out, bore patiently
+with her waywardness, snatched her from this life of shame, and placed
+her high in an atmosphere of light and love.
+
+It is here, gentle shepherds, the benighted stand most in need of your
+labors. Seek not to evangelize the Mahomedan world until you have worked
+a reform here; and when you have done it, a monument in heaven will be
+your reward.
+
+"Mr. Toddleworth is not here," says the detective, withdrawing into the
+passage, then ascending a broken and steep stairs that lead into the
+third story. Nine shivering forms crouched in one dismal room; four
+squabbish women, and three besotted men in another; and in a third, nine
+ragged boys and two small girls--such are the scenes of squalid misery
+presented here. In a little front room, Mr. Tom Downey, his wife, and
+eight children, lay together upon the floor, half covered with rags. Mr.
+Downey startles at the appearance of the detective, rises nervously from
+his pallet, and after the pause of a moment, says: "Indeed, yer welcome,
+Mr. Fitzgerald. Indeed, I have not--an' God knows it's the truth I
+tell--seen Mr. Toddleworth the week;" he replies, in answer to a
+question from the detective.
+
+"You took a drop with him this afternoon?" continues the detective,
+observing his nervousness.
+
+"God knows it's a mistake, Mr. Fitzgerald." Mr. Downey changes the
+subject, by saying the foreigners in the garret are a great nuisance,
+and disturb him of his rest at night.
+
+A small, crooked stair leads into "Organ-grinders' Roost," in the
+garret. To "Organ-grinders' Roost" the detective ascends. If, reader,
+you have ever pictured in your mind the cave of despair, peopled by
+beings human only in shape, you may form a faint idea of the
+wretchedness presented in "Organ-grinders' Roost," at the top of the
+house of the Nine Nations. Seven stalworth men shoot out from among a
+mass of rags on the floor, and with dark, wandering eyes, and massive,
+uncombed beards, commence in their native Italian a series of
+interrogatories, not one of which the detective can understand. They
+would inquire for whom he seeks at this strange hour. He (the detective)
+stands unmoved, as with savage gesture--he has discovered his star--they
+tell him they are famishing of hunger. A pretty black-eyed girl, to
+whose pale, but beautifully oval face an expression of sorrow lends a
+touching softness, lays on the bare floor, beside a mother of
+patriarchal aspect. Now she is seized with a sharp cough that brings
+blood at every paroxysm. As if forgetting herself, she lays her hand
+gently upon the cheek of her mother, anxious to comfort her. Ah! the
+hard hand of poverty has been upon her through life, and stubbornly
+refuses to relax its grip, even in her old age. An organ forms here and
+there a division between the sleepers; two grave-visaged monkeys sit
+chattering in the fireplace, then crouch down on the few charred sticks.
+A picture of the crucifix is seen conspicuous over the dingy fireplace,
+while from the slanting roof hang several leathern girdles. Oh, what a
+struggle for life is their's! Mothers, fathers, daughters, and little
+children, thus promiscuously grouped, and coming up in neglect and
+shame. There an old man, whom remorseless death is just calling into
+eternity, with dull, glassy eyes, white, flowing beard, bald head,
+sunken mouth, begrimed and deeply-wrinkled face, rises, spectre-like,
+from his pallet. Now he draws from his breast a small crucifix, and
+commences muttering to it in a guttural voice. "Peace, peace, good old
+man--the holy father will come soon--the holy virgin will come soon: he
+will receive the good spirit to his bosom," says a black-eyed daughter,
+patting him gently upon the head, then looking in his face solicitously,
+as he turns his eyes upward, and for a few moments seems invoking the
+mercy of the Allwise. "Yes, father," she resumes, lightening up the mat
+of straw upon which he lays, "the world has been unkind to you, but you
+are passing from it to a better--you will be at peace soon."
+
+"Soon, soon, soon," mumbles the old man, in a whisper; and having
+carefully returned the crucifix to his bosom, grasps fervently the hand
+of the girl and kisses it, as her eyes swim in tears.
+
+Such, to the shame of those who live in princely palaces, and revel in
+luxury, are but faintly-drawn pictures of what may be seen in the house
+of the Nine Nations.
+
+The detective is about to give up the search, and turns to descend the
+stairs, when suddenly he discerns a passage leading to the north end of
+the garret. Here, in a little closet-like room, on the right, the rats
+his only companions, lies the prostrate form of poor Toddleworth.
+
+"Well, I persevered till I found you," says the detective, turning his
+light full upon the body. Another minute, and his features become as
+marble; he stands aghast, and his whole frame seems struggling under the
+effect of some violent shock. "What, what, what!" he shouts, in nervous
+accents, "Murder! murder! murder! some one has murdered him." Motionless
+the form lies, the shadow of the light revealing the ghastly spectacle.
+The head lies in a pool of blood, the bedimmed eyes, having taken their
+last look, remain fixedly set on the black roof. "He has died of a
+blow--of a broken skull!" says the frightened official, feeling, and
+feeling, and pressing the arms and hands that are fast becoming rigid.
+Life is gone out; a pauper's grave will soon close over what remains of
+this wretched outcast. The detective hastens down stairs, spreads the
+alarm over the neighborhood, and soon the House of the Nine Nations is
+the scene of great excitement.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX.
+
+IN WHICH MAY BE SEEN A FEW OF OUR COMMON EVILS.
+
+
+Leaving for a time the scenes in the House of the Nine Nations, let us
+return to Charleston, that we may see how matters appertaining to this
+history are progressing. Mr. Snivel is a popular candidate for the
+Senate of South Carolina; and having shot his man down in the street,
+the question of his fighting abilities we regard as honorably settled.
+Madame Montford, too, has by him been kept in a state of nervous
+anxiety, for he has not yet found time to search in the "Poor-house for
+the woman Munday." All our very first, and best-known families, have
+dropped Madame, who is become a wet sheet on the fashionable world. A
+select committee of the St. Cecilia has twice considered her expulsion,
+while numerous very respectable and equally active old ladies have been
+shaking their scandal-bags at her head. Sins have been laid at her door
+that would indeed damage a reputation with a fairer endorsement than New
+York can give.
+
+Our city at this moment is warmed into a singular state of excitement. A
+Georgia editor (we regard editors as belonging to a very windy class of
+men), not having the mightiness of our chivalry before him, said the
+Union would have peace if South Carolina were shut up in a penitentiary.
+And for this we have invited the indiscreet gentleman to step over the
+border, that we may hang him, being extremely fond of such common-place
+amusements. What the facetious fellow meant was, that our own State
+would enjoy peace and prosperity were our mob-politicians all in the
+penitentiary. And with this sensible opinion we heartily agree.
+
+We regard our state of civilization as extremely enviable. To-day we
+made a lion of the notorious Hines, the forger. Hines, fashioning after
+our hapless chivalry, boasts that South Carolina is his State--his
+political mother. He has, nevertheless, graced with his presence no few
+penitentiaries. We feasted him in that same prison where we degrade and
+starve the honest poor; we knew him guilty of an heinous crime--yet we
+carried him jubilantly to the "halls of justice." And while
+distinguished lawyers tendered their services to the "clever villain,"
+you might have witnessed in sorrow a mock trial, and heard a mob
+sanction with its acclamations his release.
+
+Oh, truth and justice! how feeble is thy existence where the god slavery
+reigns. And while men are heard sounding the praises of this highwayman
+at the street corners, extolling men who have shot down their fellow-men
+in the streets, and calling those "Hon. gentlemen," who have in the most
+cowardly manner assassinated their opponents, let us turn to a different
+picture. Two genteely-dressed men are seen entering the old, jail. "I
+have twice promised them a happy surprise," says one, whose pale,
+studious features, wear an expression of gentleness. The face of the
+other is somewhat florid, but beaming with warmth of heart. They enter,
+having passed up one of the long halls, a room looking into the
+prison-yard. Several weary-faced prisoners are seated round a deal
+table, playing cards; among them is the old sailor described in the
+early part of this history. "You don't know my friend, here?" says the
+young man of the studious face, addressing the prisoners, and pointing
+to his companion. The prisoners look inquiringly at the stranger, then
+shake their heads in response.
+
+"No, you don't know me: you never knew me when I was a man," speaks the
+stranger, raising his hat, as a smile lights up his features. "You don't
+know Tom Swiggs, the miserable inebriate--"
+
+A spontaneous shout of recognition, echoing and reechoing through the
+old halls, interrupts this declaration. One by one the imprisoned men
+grasp him by the hand, and shower upon him the warmest, the heartiest
+congratulations. A once fallen brother has risen to a knowledge of his
+own happiness. Hands that raised him from that mat of straw, when the
+mental man seemed lost, now welcome him restored, a purer being.
+
+"Ah, Spunyarn," says Tom, greeting the old sailor with childlike
+fondness, as the tears are seen gushing into the eyes, and coursing down
+the browned face of the old mariner, "I owe you a debt I fear I never
+can pay. I have thought of you in my absence, and had hoped on my return
+to see you released. I am sorry you are not--"
+
+"Well, as to that," interrupts the old sailor, his face resuming its
+wonted calm, "I can't--you know I can't, Tom,--sail without a clearance.
+I sometimes think I'm never going to get one. Two years, as you know,
+I've been here, now backing and then filling, in and out, just as it
+suits that chap with the face like a snatch-block. They call him a
+justice. 'Pon my soul, Tom, I begin to think justice for us poor folks
+is got aground. Well, give us your hand agin' (he seizes Tom by the
+hand); its all well wi' you, anyhows.'
+
+"Yes, thank God," says Tom, returning his friendly shake, "I have
+conquered the enemy, and my thanks for it are due to those who reached
+my heart with kind words, and gave me a brother's hand. I was not dead
+to my own degradation; but imprisonment left me no hope. The sting of
+disappointment may pain your feelings; hope deferred may torture you
+here in a prison; the persecutions of enemies may madden your very soul;
+but when a mother turns coldly from you--No, I will not say it, for I
+love her still--" he hesitates, as the old sailor says, with touching
+simplicity, he never knew what it was to have a mother or father. Having
+spread before the old man and his companions sundry refreshments he had
+ordered brought in, and received in return their thanks, he inquires of
+Spunyarn how it happened that he got into prison, and how it is that he
+remains here a fixture.
+
+"I'll tell you, Tom," says the old sailor, commencing his story. "We'd
+just come ashore--had a rough passage--and, says I to myself, here's lay
+up ashore awhile. So I gets a crimp, who takes me to a crib. 'It's all
+right here--you'll have snug quarters, Jack,' says he, introducing me to
+the chap who kept it. I gives him twenty dollars on stack, and gets up
+my chest and hammock, thinking it was all fair and square. Then I meets
+an old shipmate, who I took in tow, he being hard ashore for cash. 'Let
+us top the meetin' with a glass,' says I. 'Agreed,' says Bill, and I
+calls her on, the very best. 'Ten cents a glass,' says the fellow behind
+the counter, giving us stuff that burnt as it went. 'Mister,' says I,
+'do ye want to poison a sailor?' 'If you no like him,' says he, 'go get
+better somewhere else.' I told him to give me back the twenty, and me
+dunnage.
+
+"'You don't get him--clear out of mine 'ouse,' says he.
+
+"'Under the peak,' says I, fetching him a but under the lug that beached
+him among his beer-barrels. He picked himself up, and began talking
+about a magistrate. And knowing what sort of navigation a fellow'd have
+in the hands of that sort of land-craft, I began to think about laying
+my course for another port. 'Hold on here,' says a big-sided
+land-lubber, seizing me by the fore-sheets. 'Cast off there,' says I,
+'or I'll put ye on yer beam-ends.'
+
+"'I'm a constable,' says he, pulling out a pair of irons he said must go
+on my hands."
+
+"I hope he did not put them on," interrupts the young theologian, for it
+is he who accompanies Tom.
+
+"Avast! I'll come to that. He said he'd only charge me five dollars for
+going to jail without 'em, so rather than have me calling damaged, I giv
+him it. It was only a trifle. 'Now, Jack,' says the fellow, as we went
+along, in a friendly sort of way, 'just let us pop in and see the
+justice. I think a ten 'll get ye a clearance.' 'No objection to that,'
+says I, and in we went, and there sat the justice, face as long and
+sharp as a marlinspike, in a dirty old hole, that looked like our
+forecastle. 'Bad affair this, Jack,' says he, looking up over his
+spectacles. 'You must be locked up for a year and a day, Jack.'
+
+"'You'll give a sailor a hearin', won't ye?' says I. 'As to that,--well,
+I don't know, Jack; you musn't break the laws of South Carolina when you
+get ashore. You seem like a desirable sailor, and can no doubt get a
+ship and good wages--this is a bad affair. However, as I'm not inclined
+to be hard, if you are disposed to pay twenty dollars, you can go.' 'Law
+and justice,' says I, shaking my fist at him--'do ye take this
+salt-water citizen for a fool?'
+
+"'Take him away, Mr. Stubble--lock him up!--lock him up!' says the
+justice, and here I am, locked up, hard up, hoping. I'd been tied up
+about three weeks when the justice looked in one day, and after
+inquiring for me, and saying, 'good morning, Jack,' and seeming a little
+by the head: 'about this affair of yourn, Jack,' says he, 'now, if
+you'll mind your eye when you get out--my trouble's worth ten
+dollars--and pay me, I'll discharge you, and charge the costs to the
+State.'
+
+"'Charge the cost to the State!' says I. 'Do you take Spunyarn for a
+marine?' At this he hauled his wind, and stood out."
+
+"You have had a hearing before the Grand Jury, have you not?" inquires
+Tom, evincing a deep interest in the story of his old friend.
+
+"Not I. This South Carolina justice is a hard old craft to sail in. The
+Grand Jury only looks in once every six months, and then looks out
+again, without inquiring who's here. And just before the time it comes
+round, I'm shuffled out, and just after it has left, I'm shuffled in
+again--fees charged to the State! That's it. So here I am, a fee-making
+machine, bobbing in and out of jail to suit the conveniences of Mister
+Justice. I don't say this with any ill will--I don't." Having concluded
+his story, the old sailor follows his visitors to the prison gate, takes
+an affectionate leave of Tom Swiggs, and returns to join his companions.
+On the following day, Tom intercedes with Mr. Snivel, for it is he who
+thus harvests fees of the State by retaining the old sailor in prison,
+and procures his release. And here, in Mr. Snivel, you have an
+instrument of that debased magistracy which triumphs over the weak, that
+sits in ignorance and indolence, that invests the hypocritical designer
+with a power almost absolute, that keeps justice muzzled on her
+throne--the natural offspring of that demon-making institution that
+scruples not to brunt the intellect of millions, while dragging a pall
+of sloth over the land.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX.
+
+CONTAINING VARIOUS THINGS APPERTAINING TO THIS HISTORY.
+
+
+Maria McArthur having, by her womanly sympathy, awakened the generous
+impulses of Tom Swiggs, he is resolved they shall have a new channel for
+their action. Her kindness touched his heart; her solicitude for his
+welfare gained his affections, and a recognition of that love she so
+long and silently cherished for him, is the natural result. The heart
+that does not move to woman's kindness, must indeed be hard. But there
+were other things which strengthened Tom's affections for Maria. The
+poverty of her aged father; the insults offered her by Keepum and
+Snivel; the manner in which they sought her ruin while harassing her
+father; the artlessness and lone condition of the pure-minded girl; and
+the almost holy affection evinced for the old man on whom she doted--all
+tended to bring him nearer and nearer to her, until he irresistibly
+found himself at her feet, pledging that faith lovers call eternal.
+Maria is not of that species of being the world calls beautiful; but
+there is about her something pure, thoughtful, even noble; and this her
+lone condition heightens. Love does not always bow before beauty. The
+singularities of human nature are most strikingly blended in woman. She
+can overcome physical defects; she can cultivate attractions most
+appreciated by those who study her worth deepest. Have you not seen
+those whose charms at first-sight found no place in your thoughts, but
+as you were drawn nearer and nearer to them, so also did your esteem
+quicken, and that esteem, almost unconsciously, you found ripening into
+affection, until in turn you were seized with an ardent passion? You
+have. And you have found yourself enamored of the very one against whom
+you had endeavored most to restrain your generous impulses. Like the
+fine lines upon a picture with a repulsive design, you trace them, and
+recur to them until your admiration is carried away captive. So it is
+with woman's charms. Tom Swiggs, then, the restored man, bows before the
+simple goodness of the daughter of the old Antiquary.
+
+Mr. Trueman, the shipowner, gave Tom employment, and has proved a friend
+to him. Tom, in turn, has so far gained his confidence and respect that
+Mr. Trueman contemplates sending him to London, on board one of his
+ships. Nor has Tom forgotten to repay the old Antiquary, who gave him a
+shelter when he was homeless; this home is still under the roof of the
+old man, toward whose comfort he contributes weekly a portion of his
+earnings. If you could but look into that little back-parlor, you would
+see a picture of humble cheerfulness presented in the old man, his
+daughter, and Tom Swiggs, seated round the tea-table. Let us, however,
+turn and look into one of our gaudy saloons, that we may see how
+different a picture is presented there.
+
+It is the night previous to an election for Mayor. Leaden clouds hang
+threatening over the city; the gas-light throws out its shadows at an
+early hour; and loud-talking men throng our street-corners and public
+resorts. Our politicians tell us that the destiny of the rich and the
+poor is to forever guard that institution which employs all our
+passions, and absorbs all our energies.
+
+In a curtained box, at the St. Charles, sits Mr. Snivel and George
+Mullholland--the latter careworn and downcast of countenance. "Let us
+finish this champaign, my good fellow," says the politician, emptying
+his glass. "A man--I mean one who wants to get up in the world--must,
+like me, have two distinct natures. He must have a grave, moral
+nature--that is necessary to the affairs of State. And he must, to
+accommodate himself to the world (law and society, I mean), have a
+terribly loose nature--a perfect quicksand, into which he can drag
+everything that serves himself. You have seen how I can develop both
+these, eh?" The downcast man shakes his head, as the politician watches
+him with a steady gaze. "Take the advice of a friend, now, let the Judge
+alone--don't threaten again to shoot that girl. Threats are sometimes
+dragged in as testimony against a man (Mr. Snivel taps George
+admonishingly on the arm); and should anything of a serious nature
+befall her--the law is curious--why, what you have said might implicate
+you, though you were innocent."
+
+"You," interrupts George, "have shot your man down in the street."
+
+"A very different affair, George. My position in society protects me. I
+am a member of the Jockey-Club, a candidate for the State Senate--a
+Justice of the Peace--yes, a politician! You are--Well, I was going to
+say--nothing! We regard northerners as enemies; socially, they are
+nothing. Come, George, come with me. I am your best friend. You shall
+see the power in my hands." The two men saunter out together, pass up a
+narrow lane leading from King Street, and are soon groping their way up
+the dark stairway of an old, neglected-looking wooden building, that for
+several years has remained deserted by everything but rats and
+politicians,--one seeming to gnaw away at the bowels of the nation, the
+other at the bowels of the old building. Having ascended to the second
+floor, Mr. Snivel touches a spring, a suspicious little trap opens, and
+two bright eyes peer out, as a low, whispering voice inquires, "Who's
+there?" Mr. Snivel has exchanged the countersign, and with his companion
+is admitted into a dark vestibule, in which sits a brawny guardsman.
+
+"Cribs are necessary, sir--I suppose you never looked into one before?"
+
+George, in a voice discovering timidity, says he never has.
+
+"You must have cribs, and crib-voters; they are necessary to get into
+high office--indeed, I may say, to keep up with the political spirit of
+the age." Mr. Snivel is interrupted by the deep, coarse voice of Milman
+Mingle, the vote-cribber, whose broad, savage face looks out at a small
+guard trap. "All right," he says, recognizing Mr. Snivel. Another
+minute, and a door opens into a long, sombre-looking room, redolent of
+the fumes of whiskey and tobacco. "The day is ours. We'll elect our
+candidate, and then my election is certain; naturalized thirteen rather
+green ones to-day--to-morrow they will be trump cards. Stubbs has
+attended to the little matter of the ballot-boxes." Mr. Snivel gives the
+vote-cribber's hand a warm shake, and turns to introduce his friend. The
+vote-cribber has seen him before. "There are thirteen in," he says, and
+two more he has in his eye, and will have in to-night, having sent
+trappers out for them.
+
+Cold meats, bread, cheese, and crackers, and a bountiful supply of bad
+whiskey, are spread over a table in the centre of the room; while the
+pale light of two small lamps, suspended from the ceiling, throws a
+curious shadow over the repulsive features of thirteen forlorn, ragged,
+and half-drunken men, sitting here and there round the room, on wooden
+benches. You see ignorance and cruelty written in their very
+countenances. For nearly three weeks they have not scented the air of
+heaven, but have been held here in a despicable bondage. Ragged and
+filthy, like Falstaff's invincibles, they will be marched to the polls
+to-morrow, and cast their votes at the bid of the cribber. "A happy lot
+of fellows," says Mr. Snivel, exultingly. "I have a passion for this
+sort of business--am general supervisor of all these cribs, you
+understand. We have several of them. Some of these 'drifts' we kidnap,
+and some come and be locked up of their own accord--merely for the feed
+and drink. We use them, and then snuff them out until we want them
+again." Having turned from George, and complimented the vote-cribber for
+his skill, he bids him good-night. Together George and the politician
+wend their way to an obscure part of the city, and having passed up two
+flight of winding stairs, into a large, old-fashioned house on the Neck,
+are in a sort of barrack-room, fitted up with bunks and benches, and
+filled with a grotesque assembly, making night jubilant--eating,
+drinking, smoking, and singing. "A jolly set of fellows," says Mr.
+Snivel, with an expression of satisfaction. "This is a decoy crib--the
+vagabonds all belong to the party of our opponents, but don't know it.
+We work in this way: we catch them--they are mostly foreigners--lock
+them up, give them good food and drink, and make them--not the half can
+speak our language--believe we belong to the same party. They yield, as
+submissive as curs. To morrow, we--this is in confidence--drug them all,
+send them into a fast sleep, in which we keep them till the polls are
+closed, then, not wanting them longer, we kick them out for a set of
+drunkards. Dangerous sort of cribbing, this. I let you into the secret
+out of pure friendship." Mr. Snivel pauses. George has at heart
+something of deeper interest to him than votes and vote-cribbers. But
+why, he says to himself, does Mr. Snivel evince this anxiety to befriend
+me? This question is answered by Mr. Snivel inviting him to take a look
+into the Keno den.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI.
+
+THE KENO DEN, AND WHAT MAY BE SEEN IN IT.
+
+
+The clock has just struck twelve. Mr. Snivel and George, passing from
+the scenes of our last chapter, enter a Keno den,[5] situated on Meeting
+street. "You must get money, George. Here you are nothing without money.
+Take this, try your hand, make your genius serve you." Mr. Snivel puts
+twenty dollars into George's hand. They are in a room some twenty by
+thirty feet in dimensions, dimly-lighted. Standing here and there are
+gambling tables, around which are seated numerous mechanics, losing, and
+being defrauded of that for which they have labored hard during the
+week. Hope, anxiety, and even desperation is pictured on the
+countenances of the players. Maddened and disappointed, one young man
+rises from a table, at which sits a craven-faced man sweeping the
+winnings into his pile, and with profane tongue, says he has lost his
+all. Another, with flushed face and bloodshot eyes, declares it the
+sixth time he has lost his earnings here. A third reels confusedly about
+the room, says a mechanic is but a dog in South Carolina; and the sooner
+he comes to a dog's end the better.
+
+[Footnote 5: A gambling den.]
+
+Mr. Snivel points George to a table, at which he is soon seated.
+"Blank--blank--blank!" he reiterates, as the numbers turn up, and one by
+one the moody bank-keeper sweeps the money into his fast-increasing
+heap. "Cursed fate!--it is against me," mutters the forlorn man.
+"Another gone, and yet another! How this deluding, this fascinating
+money tortures me." With hectic face and agitated nerve, he puts down
+his last dollar. "Luck's mysterious!" exclaims Mr. Snivel, looking on
+unmoved, as the man of the moody face declares a blank, and again sweeps
+the money into his heap. "Gone!" says George, "all's gone now." He rises
+from his seat, in despair.
+
+"Don't get frantic, George--be a philosopher--try again--here's a ten.
+Luck 'll turn," says Mr. Snivel, patting the deluded man familiarly on
+the shoulder, as he resumes his seat. "Will poverty never cease
+torturing me? I have tried to be a man, an honest man, a respectable
+man. And yet, here I am, again cast upon a gambler's sea, struggling
+with its fearful tempests. How cold, how stone-like the faces around
+me!" he muses, watching with death-like gaze each number as it turns up.
+Again he has staked his last dollar; again fortune frowns upon him. Like
+a furnace of livid flame, the excitement seems burning up his brain. "I
+am a fool again," he says, throwing the blank number contemptuously upon
+the table. "Take it--take it, speechless, imperturbable man! Rake it
+into your pile, for my eyes are dim, and my fortune I must seek
+elsewhere."
+
+A noise at the door, as of some one in distress, is heard, and there
+rushes frantically into the den a pale, dejected-looking woman, bearing
+in her arms a sick and emaciated babe. "Oh, William! William!--has it
+come to this?" she shrieks, casting a wild glance round the den, until,
+with a dark, sad expression, her eye falls upon the object of her
+search. It is her husband, once a happy mechanic. Enticed by degrees
+into this den of ruin, becoming fascinated with its games of chance, he
+is how an _habitue_. To-night he left his suffering family, lost his all
+here, and now, having drank to relieve his feelings, lies insensible on
+the floor. "Come home!--come home! for God's sake come home to your
+suffering family," cries the woman, vaulting to him and taking him by
+the hand, her hair floating dishevelled down her shoulders. "I sent
+Tommy into the street to beg--I am ashamed--and he is picked up by the
+watch for a thief, a vagrant!" The prostrate man remains insensible to
+her appeal. Two policemen, who have been quietly neglecting their duties
+while taking a few chances, sit unmoved. Mr. Snivel thinks the woman
+better be removed. "Our half-starved mechanics," he says, "are a
+depraved set; and these wives they bring with them from the North are a
+sort of cross between a lean stage-driver and a wildcat. She seems a
+poor, destitute creature--just what they all come to, out here." Mr.
+Snivel shrugs his shoulders, bids George good night, and takes his
+departure. "Take care of yourself, George," he says admonitiously, as
+the destitute man watches him take his leave. The woman, frantic at the
+coldness and apathy manifested for her distress, lays her babe hurriedly
+upon the floor, and with passion and despair darting from her very eyes,
+makes a lunge across the keno table at the man who sits stoically at the
+bank. In an instant everything is turned into uproar and confusion.
+Glasses, chairs, and tables, are hurled about the floor; shriek follows
+shriek--"help! pity me! murder!" rises above the confusion, the watch
+without sound the alarm, and the watch within suddenly become conscious
+of their duty. In the midst of all the confusion, a voice cries out:
+"My pocket book--my pocket book!--I have been robbed." A light flashes
+from a guardsman's lantern, and George Mullholland is discovered with
+the forlorn woman in his arms--she clings tenaciously to her
+babe--rushing into the street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII.
+
+WHICH A STATE OF SOCIETY IS SLIGHTLY REVEALED.
+
+
+A week has rolled into the past since the event at the Keno den.
+
+Madame Montford, pale, thoughtful, and abstracted, sits musing in her
+parlor. "Between this hope and fear--this remorse of conscience, this
+struggle to overcome the suspicions of society, I have no peace. I am
+weary of this slandering--this unforgiving world. And yet it is my own
+conscience that refuses to forgive me. Go where I will I see the cold
+finger of scorn pointed at me: I read in every countenance, 'Madame
+Montford, you have wronged some one--your guilty conscience betrays
+you!' I have sought to atone for my error--to render justice to one my
+heart tells me I have wronged, yet I cannot shake off the dread burden;
+and there seems rest for me only in the grave. Ah! there it is. The one
+error of my life, and the moans used to conceal it, may have brought
+misery upon more heads than one." She lays her hand upon her heart, and
+shakes her head sorrowfully. "Yes! something like a death-knell rings in
+my ears--'more than one have you sent, unhappy, to the grave.' Rejected
+by the one I fancy my own; my very touch, scorned; my motives
+misconstrued--all, perhaps, by--a doubt yet hangs between us--an
+abandoned stranger. Duty to my conscience has driven me to acts that
+have betrayed me to society. I cannot shake my guilt from me even for a
+day; and now society coldly cancels all my claims to its attentions. If
+I could believe her dead; if I but knew this girl was not the object of
+all my heart's unrest, then the wearying doubt would be buried, and my
+heart might find peace in some remote corner of the earth. Well,
+well--perhaps I am wasting all this torture on an unworthy object. I
+should have thought of this sooner, for now foul slander is upon every
+tongue, and my misery is made thrice painful by my old flatterers. I
+will make one more effort, then if I fail of getting a certain clue to
+her, I will remove to some foreign country, shake off these haunting
+dreams, and be no longer a victim to my own thoughts." Somewhat
+relieved, Madame is roused from her reverie by a gentle tap at the door.
+"I have waited your coming, and am glad to see you," she says, extending
+her hand, as a servant, in response to her command, ushers into her
+presence no less a person than Tom Swiggs. "I have sent for you," she
+resumes, motioning him gracefully to a chair, in which she begs he will
+be seated, "because I feel I can confide in you--"
+
+"Anything in my power is at your service, Madame," modestly interposes
+Tom, regaining confidence.
+
+"I entrusted something of much importance to me, to Mr. Snivel--"
+
+"We call him the Hon. Mr. Snivel now, since he has got to be a great
+politician," interrupts Tom.
+
+"And he not only betrayed my Confidence," pursues Madame Montford, "but
+retains the amount I paid him, and forgets to render the promised
+service. You, I am told, can render me a service--"
+
+"As for Mr. Snivel," pursues Tom, hastily, "he has of late had his hands
+full, getting a poor but good-natured fellow, by the name of George
+Mullholland, into trouble. His friend, Judge Sleepyhorn, and he, have
+for some time had a plot on hand to crush this poor fellow. A few nights
+ago Snivel drove him mad at a gambling den, and in his desperation he
+robbed a man of his pocket-book. He shared the money with a poor woman
+he rescued at the den, and that is the way it was discovered that he was
+the criminal. He is a poor, thoughtless man, and he has been goaded on
+from one thing to another, until he was driven to commit this act.
+First, his wife was got away from him--" Tom pauses and blushes, as
+Madame Montford says: "His wife was got away from him?"
+
+"Yes, Madame," returns Tom, with an expression of sincerity, "The Judge
+got her away from him; and this morning he was arraigned before that
+same Judge for examination, and Mr. Snivel was a principal witness, and
+there was enough found against him to commit him for trial at the
+Sessions." Discovering that this information is exciting her emotions,
+Tom pauses, and contemplates her with steady gaze. She desires he will
+be her guide to the Poor-House, and there assist her in searching for
+Mag Munday, whom, report says, is confined in a cell. Tom having
+expressed his readiness to serve her, they are soon on their way to that
+establishment.
+
+A low, squatty building, with a red, moss-covered roof, two lean
+chimneys peeping out, the windows blockaded with dirt, and situated in
+one of the by-lanes of the city, is our Poor-House, standing half hid
+behind a crabbed old wall, and looking very like a much-neglected
+Quaker church in vegetation. We boast much of our institutions, and
+this being a sample of them, we hold it in great reverence. You may say
+that nothing so forcibly illustrates a state of society as the character
+of its institutions for the care of those unfortunate beings whom a
+capricious nature has deprived of their reason. We agree with you. We
+see our Poor-House crumbling to the ground with decay, yet imagine it,
+or affect to imagine it, a very grand edifice, in every way suited to
+the wants of such rough ends of humanity as are found in it. Like Satan,
+we are brilliant believers in ourselves, not bad sophists, and
+singularly clever in finding apologies for all great crimes.
+
+At the door of the Poor-House stands a dilapidated hearse, to which an
+old gray horse is attached. A number of buzzards have gathered about
+him, turn their heads suspiciously now and then, and seem meditating a
+descent upon his bones at no very distant day. Madame casts a glance at
+the hearse, and the poor old horse, and the cawing buzzards, then
+follows Tom, timidly, to the door. He has rung the bell, and soon there
+stands before them, in the damp doorway, a fussy old man, with a very
+broad, red face, and a very blunt nose, and two very dull, gray eyes,
+which he fortifies with a fair of massive-framed spectacles, that have a
+passion for getting upon the tip-end of his broad blunt nose.
+
+"There, you want to see somebody! Always somebody wanted to be seen,
+when we have dead folks to get rid of," mutters the old man,
+querulously, then looking inquiringly at the visitors. Tom says they
+would like to go over the premises. "Yes--know you would. Ain't so dull
+but I can see what folks want when they look in here." The old man, his
+countenance wearing an expression of stupidity, runs his dingy fingers
+over the crown of his bald head, and seems questioning within himself
+whether to admit them. "I'm not in a very good humor to-day," he rather
+growls than speaks, "but you can come in--I'm of a good family--and I'll
+call Glentworthy. I'm old--I can't get about much. We'll all get old."
+The building seems in a very bad temper generally.
+
+Mr. Glentworthy is called. Mr. Glentworthy, with a profane expletive,
+pops his head out at the top of the stairs, and inquires who wants him.
+The visitors have advanced into a little, narrow passage, lumbered with
+all sorts of rubbish, and swarming with flies. Mr. Saddlerock (for this
+is the old man's name) seems in a declining mood, the building seems in
+a declining mood, Mr. Glentworthy seems in a declining mood--everything
+you look at seems in a declining mood. "As if I hadn't enough to do,
+gettin' off this dead cribber!" interpolates Mr. Glentworthy,
+withdrawing his wicked face, and taking himself back into a room on the
+left.
+
+"He's not so bad a man, only it doesn't come out at first," pursues Mr.
+Saddlerock, continuing to rub his head, and to fuss round on his toes.
+His mind, Madame Montford verily believes stuck in a fog. "We must wait
+a bit," says the old man, his face seeming to elongate. "You can look
+about--there's not much to be seen, and what there is--well, it's not
+the finest." Mr. Saddlerock shuffles his feet, and then shuffles himself
+into a small side room. Through the building there breathes a warm,
+sickly atmosphere; the effect has left its marks upon the sad, waning
+countenances of its unfortunate inmates.
+
+Tom and Madame Montford set out to explore the establishment. They
+enter room after room, find them small, dark, and filthy beyond
+description. Some are crowded with half-naked, flabby females, whose
+careworn faces, and well-starved aspect, tells a sorrowful tale of the
+chivalry. An abundant supply of profane works, in yellow and red covers,
+would indeed seem to have been substituted for food, which, to the shame
+of our commissioners, be it said, is a scarce article here. Cooped up in
+another little room, after the fashion of wild beasts in a cage, are
+seven poor idiots, whose forlorn condition, sad, dull countenances, as
+they sit round a table, staring vacantly at one another, like mummies in
+contemplation, form a wild but singularly touching picture. Each
+countenance pales before the seeming study of its opponent, until,
+enraptured and amazed, they break out into a wild, hysterical laugh. And
+thus, poisoned, starved, and left to die, does time with these poor
+mortals fleet on.
+
+The visitors ascend to the second story. A shuffling of feet in a room
+at the top of the stairs excites their curiosity. Mr. Glentworthy's
+voice grates harshly on the ear, in language we cannot insert in this
+history. "Our high families never look into low places--chance if the
+commissioner has looked in here for years," says Tom, observing Madame
+Montford protect her inhaling organs with her perfumed cambric. "There
+is a principle of economy carried out--and a very nice principle, too,
+in getting these poor out of the world as quick as possible." Tom pushes
+open a door, and, heavens! what a sight is here. He stands aghast in the
+doorway--Madam, on tip-toe, peers anxiously in over his shoulders. Mr.
+Glentworthy and two negroes--the former slightly inebriated, the latter
+trembling of fright--are preparing to box up a lifeless mass, lying
+carelessly upon the floor. The distorted features, the profusion of
+long, red hair, curling over a scared face, and the stalworth figure,
+shed some light upon the identity of the deceased. "Who is it?"
+ejaculates Mr. Glentworthy, in response to an inquiry from Tom. Mr.
+Glentworthy shrugs his shoulders, and commences whistling a tune. "That
+cove!" he resumes, having stopped short in his tune, "a man what don't
+know that cove, never had much to do with politics. Stuffed more ballot
+boxes, cribbed more voters, and knocked down more slip-shod
+citizens--that cove has, than, put 'em all together, would make a South
+Carolina regiment. A mighty man among politicians, he was! Now the devil
+has cribbed him--he'll know how good it is!" Mr. Glentworthy says this
+with an air of superlative satisfaction, resuming his tune. The dead man
+is Milman Mingle, the vote-cribber, who died of a wound he received at
+the hands of an antagonist, whom he was endeavoring to "block out" while
+going to the polls to cast his vote. "Big politician, but had no home!"
+says Madame, with a sigh.
+
+Mr. Glentworthy soon had what remained of the vote-cribber--the man to
+whom so many were indebted for their high offices--into a deal box, and
+the deal box into the old hearse, and the old hearse, driven by a
+mischievous negro, hastening to that great crib to which we must all go.
+"Visitors," Mr. Glentworthy smiles, "must not question the way we do
+business here, I get no pay, and there's only old Saddlerock and me to
+do all the work. Old Saddlerock, you see, is a bit of a miser, and
+having a large family of small Saddlerocks to provide for, scrapes what
+he can into his own pocket. No one is the wiser. They can't be--they
+never come in." Mr. Glentworthy, in reply to a question from Madame
+Montford, says Mag Munday (he has some faint recollection of her) was
+twice in the house, which he dignifies with the title of "Institution."
+She never was in the "mad cells"--to his recollection. "Them what get
+there, mostly die there." A gift of two dollars secures Mr.
+Glentworthy's services, and restores him to perfect good nature. "You
+will remember," says Tom, "that this woman ran neglected about the
+streets, was much abused, and ended in becoming a maniac." Mr.
+Glentworthy remembers very well, but adds: "We have so many maniacs on
+our hands, that we can't distinctly remember them all. The clergymen
+take good care never to look in here. They couldn't do any good if they
+did, for nobody cares for the rubbish sent here; and if you tried to
+Christianize them, you would only get laughed at. I don't like to be
+laughed at. Munday's not here now, that's settled--but I'll--for
+curiosity's sake--show you into the 'mad cells.'" Mr. Glentworthy leads
+the way, down the rickety old stairs, through the lumbered passage, into
+an open square, and from thence into a small out-building, at the
+extreme end of which some dozen wet, slippery steps, led into a dark
+subterranean passage, on each side of which are small, dungeon-like
+cells. "Heavens!" exclaims Madame Montford, picking her way down the
+steep, slippery steps. "How chilling! how tomb-like! Can it be that
+mortals are confined here, and live?" she mutters, incoherently. The
+stifling atmosphere is redolent of disease.
+
+"It straightens 'em down, sublimely--to put 'em in here," says Mr.
+Glentworthy, laconically, lighting his lamp. "I hope to get old
+Saddlerock in here. Give him such a mellowing!" He turns his light, and
+the shadows play, spectre-like, along a low, wet aisle, hung on each
+side with rusty bolts and locks, revealing the doors of cells. An
+ominous stillness is broken by the dull clank of chains, the muttering
+of voices, the shuffling of limbs; then a low wail breaks upon the ear,
+and rises higher and higher, shriller and shriller, until in piercing
+shrieks it chills the very heart. Now it ceases, and the echoes, like
+the murmuring winds, die faintly away. "Look in here, now," says Mr.
+Glentworthy--"a likely wench--once she was!"
+
+He swings open a door, and there issues from a cell about four feet six
+inches wide, and nine long, the hideous countenance of a poor, mulatto
+girl, whose shrunken body, skeleton-like arms, distended and glassy
+eyes, tell but too forcibly her tale of sorrow. How vivid the picture of
+wild idiocy is pictured in her sad, sorrowing face. No painter's touch
+could have added a line more perfect. Now she rushes forward, with a
+suddenness that makes Madame Montford shrink back, appalled--now she
+fixes her eyes, hangs down her head, and gives vent to her tears. "My
+soul is white--yes, yes, yes! I know it is white; God tells me it is
+white--he knows--he never tortures. He doesn't keep me here to die--no,
+I can't die here in the dark. I won't get to heaven if I do. Oh! yes,
+yes, yes, I have a white soul, but my skin is not," she rather murmurs
+than speaks, continuing to hold down her head, while parting her long,
+clustering hair over her shoulders. Notwithstanding the spectacle of
+horror presented in this living skeleton, there is something in her look
+and action which bespeaks more the abuse of long confinement than the
+result of natural aberration of mind. "She gets fierce now and then,
+and yells," says the unmoved Glentworthy, "but she won't hurt ye--"
+
+[6]"How long," inquires Madame Montford, who has been questioning within
+herself whether any act of her life could have brought a Human being
+into such a place, "has she been confined here?" Mr. Glentworthy says
+she tells her own tale.
+
+[Footnote 6: Can it be possible that such things as are here pictured
+have an existence among a people laying any claim to a state of
+civilization? the reader may ask. The author would here say that to the
+end of fortifying himself against the charge of exaggeration, he
+submitted the MS. of this chapter to a gentleman of the highest
+respectability in Charleston, whose unqualified approval it received, as
+well as enlisting his sympathies in behalf of the unfortunate lunatics
+found in the cells described. Four years have passed since that time. He
+subsequently sent the author the following, from the "Charleston
+Courier," which speaks for itself.
+
+   "FROM THE REPORTS OF COUNCIL.
+   "January 4th, 1843
+
+"_The following communication was received from William M. Lawton, Esq.,
+Chairman of the Commissioners of the Poor-house._
+
+   "'Charleston, Dec. 17th, 1852.
+   "'To the Honorable, the City Council of Charleston:
+
+"'By a resolution of the Board of Commissioners of this City, I have
+been instructed to communicate with your honorable body in relation to
+the insane paupers now in Poor-house', (the insane in a poor-house!)
+'and to request that you will adopt the necessary provision for sending
+them to the Lunatic Asylum at Columbia. * * * * There are twelve on the
+list, many of whom, it is feared, have already remained too long in an
+institution quite unsuited to their unfortunate situation.
+
+   "'With great respect, your very obedient servant,
+   "'(Signed) WM. M. LAWTON,
+   "'Chairman of the Board of Commissioners.'"]
+
+"Five years,--five years,--five long, long years, I have waited for him
+in the dark, but he won't come," she lisps in a faltering voice, as her
+emotions overwhelm her. Then crouching back upon the floor, she supports
+her head pensively in her left hand, her elbow resting on her knee, and
+her right hand poised against the brick wall, "Pencele!" says Mr.
+Glentworthy, for such is the wretched woman's name, "cannot you sing a
+song for your friends?" Turning aside to Madame Montford, he adds, "she
+sings nicely. We shall soon get her out of the way--can't last much
+longer." Mr. Glentworthy, drawing a small bottle from his pocket, places
+it to his lips, saying he stole it from old Saddlerock, and gulps down a
+portion of the contents. His breath is already redolent of whiskey. "Oh,
+yes, yes, yes! I can sing for them, I can smother them with kisses. Good
+faces seldom look in here, seldom look in here," she rises to her feet,
+and extends her bony hand, as the tears steal down Madame Montford's
+cheeks. Tom stands speechless. He wishes he had power to redress the
+wrongs of this suffering maniac--his very soul fires up against the
+coldness and apathy of a people who permit such outrages against
+humanity. "There!--he comes! he comes! he comes!" the maniac speaks,
+with faltering voice, then strikes up a plaintive air, which she sings
+with a voice of much sweetness, to these words:
+
+   When you find him, speed him to me,
+   And this heart will cease its bleeding, &c.
+
+The history of all this poor maniac's sufferings is told in a few simple
+words that fall incautiously from Mr. Glentworthy's lips: "Poor fool,
+she had only been married a couple of weeks, when they sold her husband
+down South. She thinks if she keeps mad, he'll come back."
+
+There was something touching, something melancholy in the music of her
+song, as its strains verberated and reverberated through the dread
+vault, then, like the echo of a lover's lute on some Alpine hill, died
+softly away.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII.
+
+IN WHICH THERE IS A SINGULAR REVELATION.
+
+
+Madame Montford returns, unsuccessful, to her parlor. It is conscience
+that unlocks the guilty heart, that forces mortals to seek relief where
+there is no chance of finding it. It was this irresistible emotion that
+found her counseling Tom Swiggs, making of him a confidant in her search
+for the woman she felt could remove the doubt, in respect to Anna's
+identity, that hung so painfully in her mind. And yet, such was her
+position, hesitating as it were between her ambition to move in
+fashionable society, and her anxiety to atone for a past error, that she
+dare not disclose the secret of all her troubles even to him. She sought
+him, not that he could soften her anxiety, but that being an humble
+person, she could pursue her object through him, unobserved to
+society--in a word, that he would be a protection against the
+apprehensions of scandal-mongers. Such are the shifts to which the
+ambitious guilty have recourse. What she has beheld in the poor-house,
+too, only serves to quicken her thoughts of the misery she may have
+inflicted upon others, and to stimulate her resolution to persevere in
+her search for the woman. Conscious that wealth and luxury does not
+always bring happiness, and that without a spotless character, woman is
+but a feeble creature in this world, she would now sacrifice everything
+else for that one ennobling charm.
+
+It may be proper here to add, that although Tom Swiggs could not enter
+into the repentant woman's designs, having arranged with his employer to
+sail for London in a few days, she learned of him something that
+reflected a little more light in her path. And that was, that the woman
+Anna Bonard, repined of her act in leaving George Mullholland, to whom
+she was anxious to return--that she was now held against her will; that
+she detested Judge Sleepyhorn, although he had provided lavishly for her
+comfort. Anna knew George loved her, and that love, even to an abandoned
+woman (if she could know it sincere), was dearer to her than all else.
+She learned, too, that high up on Anna's right arm, there was imprinted
+in blue and red ink, two hearts and a broken anchor. And this tended
+further to increase her anxiety. And while evolving all these things in
+her mind, and contemplating the next best course to pursue, her parlor
+is invaded by Mr. Snivel. He is no longer Mr. Soloman, nor Mr. Snivel.
+He is the Hon. Mr. Snivel. It is curious to contemplate the character of
+the men to whose name we attach this mark of distinction. "I know you
+will pardon my seeming neglect, Madame," he says, grasping her hand
+warmly, as a smile of exultation lights up his countenance. "The fact
+is, we public men are so absorbed in the affairs of the nation, that we
+have scarce a thought to give to affairs of a private nature. We have
+elected our ticket. I was determined it should be so, if Jericho fell.
+And, more than all, I am made an honorable, by the popular sentiment of
+the people--"
+
+"To be popular with the people, is truly an honor," interrupts the lady,
+facetiously.
+
+"Thank you--O, thank you, for the compliment," pursues our hero. "Now,
+as to this unfortunate person you seek, knowing it was of little use to
+search for her in our institutions of charity--one never can find out
+anything about the wretches who get into them--I put the matter into the
+hands of one of our day-police--a plaguey sharp fellow--and he set about
+scenting her out. I gave him a large sum, and promised him more if
+successful. Here, then, after a long and tedious search--I have no doubt
+the fellow earned his money--is what he got from New York, this
+morning." The Hon. Mr. Snivel, fixing his eye steadily upon her, hands
+her a letter which reads thus:
+
+"NEW YORK, _Dec. 14th, 18--_.
+
+"Last night, while making search after a habitant of the Points, a odd
+old chip what has wandered about here for some years, some think he has
+bin a better sort of man once, I struck across the woman you want. She
+is somewhere tucked away in a Cow Bay garret, and is awful crazy; I'll
+keep me eye out till somethin' further. If her friends wants to give her
+a lift out of this place, they'd better come and see me at once.
+
+   "Yours, as ever,
+   "M---- FITZGERALD."
+
+Mr. Snivel ogles Madame Montford over the page of a book he affects to
+read. "Guilt! deep and strong," he says within himself, as Madame, with
+flushed countenance and trembling hand, ponders and ponders over the
+paper. Then her emotions quicken, her eyes exchange glances with Mr.
+Snivel, and she whispers, with a sigh, "found--at last! And yet how
+foolish of me to give way to my feelings? The affair, at best, is none
+of mine." Mr. Snivel bows, and curls his Saxon mustache. "To do good
+for others is the natural quality of a generous nature."
+
+Madame, somewhat relieved by this condescension of the Hon. gentleman,
+says, in reply, "I am curious at solving family affairs."
+
+"And I!" says our hero, with refreshing coolness--"always ready to do a
+bit of a good turn."
+
+Madame pauses, as if in doubt whether to proceed or qualify what she has
+already said. "A relative, whose happiness I make my own," she resumes,
+and again pauses, while the words tremble upon her lips. She hears the
+words knelling in her ears: "A guilty conscience needs no betrayer."
+
+"You have," pursues our hero, "a certain clue; and of that I may
+congratulate you."
+
+Madame says she will prepare at once to return to her home in New York,
+and--and here again the words hang upon her lips. She was going to say,
+her future proceedings would be governed by the paper she holds so
+nervously in her finger.
+
+Snivel here receives a nostrum from the lady's purse. "Truly!--Madame,"
+he says, in taking leave of her, "the St. Cecilia will regret you--we
+shall all regret you; you honored and graced our assemblies so. Our
+first families will part with you reluctantly. It may, however, be some
+satisfaction to know how many kind things will be said of you in your
+absence." Mr. Snivel makes his last bow, a sarcastic smile playing over
+his face, and pauses into the street.
+
+On the following day she encloses a present of fifty dollars to Tom
+Swiggs, enjoins the necessity of his keeping her visit to the
+poor-house a secret, and takes leave of Charleston.
+
+And here our scene changes, and we must transport the reader to New
+York. It is the day following the night Mr. Detective Fitzgerald
+discovered what remained of poor Toddleworth, in the garret of the House
+of the Nine Nations. The City Hall clock strikes twelve. The goodly are
+gathered into the House of the Foreign Missions, in which peace and
+respectability would seem to preside. The good-natured fat man is in his
+seat, pondering over letters lately received from the "dark regions" of
+Arabia; the somewhat lean, but very respectable-looking Secretary, is
+got nicely into his spectacles, and sits pondering over lusty folios of
+reports from Hindostan, and various other fields of missionary labor,
+all setting forth the various large amounts of money expended, how much
+more could be expended, and what a blessing it is to be enabled to
+announce the fact that there is now a hope of something being done. The
+same anxious-faced bevy of females we described in a previous chapter,
+are here, seated at a table, deeply interested in certain periodicals
+and papers; while here and there about the room, are several
+contemplative gentlemen in black. Brother Spyke, having deeply
+interested Brothers Phills and Prim with an account of his visit to the
+Bottomless Pit, paces up and down the room, thinking of Antioch, and the
+evangelization of the heathen world. "Truly, brother," speaks the
+good-natured fat man, "his coming seemeth long." "Eleven was the hour;
+but why he tarryeth I know not," returns Brother Spyke, with calm
+demeanor. "There is something more alarming in Sister Slocum's absence,"
+interposes one of the ladies. The house seems in a waiting mood, when
+suddenly Mr. Detective Fitzgerald enters, and changes it to one of
+anxiety. Several voices inquire if he was successful. He shakes his
+head, and having recounted his adventures, the discovery of where the
+money went to, and the utter hopelessness of an effort to recover it;
+"as for the man, Toddleworth," he says, methodically, "he was found with
+a broken skull. The Coroner has had an inquest over him; but murders are
+so common. The verdict was, that he died of a broken skull, by the hands
+of some one to the jury unknown. Suspicions were strong against one Tom
+Downey, who is very like a heathen, and is mistrusted of several
+murders. The affair disturbed the neighborhood a little, and the Coroner
+tried to get something out concerning the man's history; but it all went
+to the wind, for the people were all so ignorant. They all knew
+everything about him, which turned out to be just nothing, which they
+were ready to swear to. One believed Father Flaherty made the Bible,
+another believed the Devil still chained in Columbia College--a third
+believed the stars were lanterns to guide priests--the only angels they
+know--on their way to heaven."
+
+"Truly!" exclaims the man of the spectacles, in a moment of abstraction.
+
+Brother Spyke says: "the Lord be merciful."
+
+"On the body of the poor man we found this document. It was rolled
+carefully up in a rag, and is supposed to throw some light on his
+history." Mr. Fitzgerald draws leisurely from his pocket a distained and
+much-crumpled paper, written over in a bold, business-like hand, and
+passes it to the man in the spectacle, as a dozen or more anxious faces
+gather round, eager to explore the contents.
+
+"He went out of the Points as mysteriously as he came in. We buried him
+a bit ago, and have got Downey in the Tombs: he'll be hanged, no doubt,"
+concludes the detective, laying aside his cap, and setting himself,
+uninvited, into a chair. The man in the spectacles commences reading the
+paper, which runs as follows:
+
+"I have been to you an unknown, and had died such an unknown, but that
+my conscience tells me I have a duty to perform. I have wronged no one,
+owe no one a penny, harbor no malice against any one; I am a victim of a
+broken heart, and my own melancholy. Many years ago I pursued an
+honorable business in this city, and was respected and esteemed. Many
+knew me, and fortune seemed to shed upon me her smiles. I married a lady
+of wealth and affluence, one I loved and doted on. Our affections seemed
+formed for our bond; we lived for one another; our happiness seemed
+complete. But alas! an evil hour came. Ambitious of admiration, she
+gradually became a slave to fashionable society, and then gave herself
+up to those flatterers who hang about it, and whose chief occupation it
+is to make weak-minded women vain of their own charms. Coldness, and
+indifference to home, soon followed. My house was invaded, my home--that
+home I regarded so sacredly--became the resort of men in whose society I
+found no pleasure, with whom I had no feeling in common. I could not
+remonstrate, for that would have betrayed in me a want of confidence in
+the fidelity of one I loved too blindly. I was not one of those who make
+life miserable in seeing a little and suspecting much. No! I forgave
+many things that wounded my feelings; and my love for her would not
+permit a thought to invade the sanctity of her fidelity. Business
+called me into a foreign country, where I remained several months, then
+returned--not, alas! to a home made happy by the purity of one I
+esteemed an angel;--not to the arms of a pure, fond wife, but to find my
+confidence betrayed, my home invaded--she, in whom I had treasured up my
+love, polluted; and slander, like a desert wind, pouring its desolating
+breath into my very heart. In my blindness I would have forgiven her,
+taken her back to my distracted bosom, and fled with her to some distant
+land, there still to have lived and loved her. But she sought rather to
+conceal her guilt than ask forgiveness. My reason fled me, my passion
+rose above my judgment, I sank under the burden of my sorrow, attempted
+to put an end to her life, and to my own misery. Failing in this, for my
+hand was stayed by a voice I heard calling to me, I fled the country and
+sought relief for my feelings in the wilds of Chili. I left nearly all
+to my wife, took but little with me, for my object was to bury myself
+from the world that had known me, and respected me. Destitution followed
+me; whither I went there seemed no rest, no peace of mind for me. The
+past floated uppermost in my mind. I was ever recurring to home, to
+those with whom I had associated, to an hundred things that had endeared
+me to my own country. Years passed--years of suffering and sorrow, and I
+found myself a lone wanderer, without friend or money. During this time
+it was reported at home, as well as chronicled in the newspapers, that I
+was dead. The inventor of this report had ends, I will not name them
+here, to serve. I was indeed dead to all who had known me happy in this
+world. Disguised, a mere shadow of what I was once, I wandered back to
+New York, heart-sick and discouraged, and buried myself among those
+whose destitution, worse, perhaps, than my own, afforded me a means of
+consolation. My life has long been a burden to me; I have many times
+prayed God, in his mercy, to take me away, to close the account of my
+misery. Do you ask my name? Ah! that is what pains me most. To live
+unknown, a wretched outcast, in a city where I once enjoyed a name that
+was respected, is what has haunted my thoughts, and tortured my
+feelings. But I cannot withhold it, even though it has gone down,
+tainted and dishonored. It is Henry Montford. And with this short record
+I close my history, leaving the rest for those to search out who find
+this paper, at my death, which cannot be long hence.
+
+   "HENRY MONTFORD.
+   "_New York, Nov. --, 184-._"
+
+A few sighs follow the reading of the paper, but no very deep interest,
+no very tender emotion, is awakened in the hearts of the goodly.
+Nevertheless, it throws a flood of light upon the morals of a class of
+society vulgarly termed fashionable. The meek females hold their tears
+and shake their heads. Brother Spyke elongates his lean figure, draws
+near, and says the whole thing is very unsatisfactory. Not one word is
+let drop about the lost money.
+
+Brother Phills will say this--that the romance is very cleverly got up,
+as the theatre people say.
+
+The good-natured fat man, breathing somewhat freer, says: "Truly! these
+people have a pleasant way of passing out of the world. They die of
+their artful practices--seeking to devour the good and the generous."
+
+"There's more suffers than imposes--an' there's more than's written
+meant in that same bit of paper. Toddleworth was as inoffensive a
+creature as you'd meet in a day. May God forgive him all his faults;"
+interposes Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, gathering up his cap and passing
+slowly out of the room.
+
+And this colloquy is put an end to by the sudden appearance of Sister
+Slocum. A rustling silk dress, of quiet color, and set off with three
+modest flounces; an India shawl, loosely thrown over her shoulders; a
+dainty little collar, of honiton, drawn neatly about her neck, and a
+bonnet of buff-colored silk, tastefully set off with tart-pie work
+without, and lined with virtuous white satin within, so saucily poised
+on her head, suggests the idea that she has an eye to fashion as well as
+the heathen world. Her face, too, always so broad, bright, and
+benevolent in its changes--is chastely framed in a crape border, so
+nicely crimped, so nicely tucked under her benevolent chin at one end,
+and so nicely pinned under the virtuous white lining at the other.
+Goodness itself radiates from those large; earnest blue eyes, those
+soft, white cheeks, that large forehead, with those dashes of silvery
+hair crossing it so smoothly and so exactly--that well-developed, but
+rather broad nose, and that mouth so expressive of gentleness.
+
+Sister Slocum, it requires no very acute observer to discover, has got
+something more than the heathen world at heart, for all those soft,
+congenial features are shadowed with sadness. Silently she takes her
+seat, sits abstracted for a few minutes--the house is thrown into a
+wondering mood--then looks wisely through her spectacles, and having
+folded her hands with an air of great resignation, shakes, and shakes,
+and shakes her head. Her eyes suddenly fill with tears, her thoughts
+wander, or seem to wander, she attempts to speak, her voice chokes, and
+the words hang upon her lips. All is consternation and excitement.
+Anxious faces gather round, and whispering voices inquire the cause. The
+lean man in the spectacles having applied his hartshorn bottle, Sister
+Slocum, to the great joy of all present, is so far restored as to be
+able to announce the singular, but no less melancholy fact, that our
+dear guest, Sister Swiggs, has passed from this world to a better. She
+retired full of sorrow, but came not in the morning. And this so
+troubled Sister Scudder that there was no peace until she entered her
+room. But she found the angel had been there before her, smoothed the
+pillow of the stranger, and left her to sleep in death. On earth her
+work was well done, and in the arms of the angel, her pure spirit now
+beareth witness in heaven. Sister Slocum's emotions forbid her saying
+more. She concludes, and buries her face in her cambric. Then an
+outpouring of consoling words follow. "He cometh like a thief in the
+night: His works are full of mystery; truly, He chasteneth; He giveth
+and taketh away." Such are a few of the sentiments lisped, regrettingly,
+for the departed.
+
+How vain are the hopes with which we build castles in the air; how
+strange the motives that impel us to ill-advised acts. We leave
+untouched the things that call loudest for our energies, and treasure up
+our little that we may serve that which least concerns us. In this
+instance it is seen how that which came of evil went in evil; how
+disappointment stepped in and blew the castle down at a breath.
+
+There could not be a doubt that the disease of which Sister Smiggs
+died, and which it is feared the State to which she belongs will one day
+die, was little dignity. Leaving her then in the arms of the House of
+the Foreign Mission, and her burial to the Secretary of the very
+excellent "Tract Society" she struggled so faithfully to serve, we close
+this chapter of events, the reader having, no doubt, discovered the
+husband of Madame Montford in the wretched man, Mr. Toddleworth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV.
+
+THE TWO PICTURES.
+
+
+We come now to another stage of this history. Six months have glided
+into the past since the events recorded in the foregoing chapter. The
+political world of Charleston is resolved to remain in the Union a few
+months longer. It is a pleasant evening in early May. The western sky is
+golden with the setting sun, and the heavens are filled with battlements
+of refulgent clouds, now softening away into night. Yonder to the East,
+reposes a dark grove. A gentle breeze fans through its foliage, the
+leaves laugh and whisper, the perfumes of flowers are diffusing through
+the air birds make melodious with their songs, the trilling stream
+mingles its murmurs, and nature would seem gathering her beauties into
+one enchanting harmony. In the foreground of the grove, and looking as
+if it borrowed solitude of the deep foliage, in which it is half buried,
+rises a pretty villa, wherein may be seen, surrounded by luxuries the
+common herd might well envy, the fair, the beautiful siren, Anna Bonard.
+In the dingy little back parlor of the old antiquary, grim poverty
+looking in through every crevasse, sits the artless and pure-minded
+Maria McArthur. How different are the thoughts, the hopes, the emotions
+of these two women. Comfort would seem smiling on the one, while
+destitution threatens the other. To the eye that looks only upon the
+surface, how deceptive is the picture. The one with every wish
+gratified, an expression of sorrow shadowing her countenance, and that
+freshness and sweetness for which she was distinguished passing away,
+contemplates herself a submissive captive, at the mercy of one for whom
+she has no love, whose gold she cannot inherit, and whose roof she must
+some day leave for the street. The other feels poverty grasping at her,
+but is proud in the possession of her virtue; and though trouble would
+seem tracing its lines upon her features, her heart remains untouched by
+remorse;--she is strong in the consciousness that when all else is gone,
+her virtue will remain her beacon light to happiness. Anna, in the loss
+of that virtue, sees herself shut out from that very world that points
+her to the yawning chasm of her future; she feels how like a slave in
+the hands of one whose heart is as cold as his smiles are false, she is.
+Maria owes the world no hate, nor are her thoughts disturbed by such
+contemplations. Anna, with embittered and remorseful feelings--with dark
+and terrible passions agitating her bosom, looks back over her eventful
+life, to a period when even her own history is shut to her, only to find
+the tortures of her soul heightened. Maria looks back upon a life of
+fond attachment to her father, to her humble efforts to serve others,
+and to know that she has borne with Christian fortitude those ills which
+are incident to humble life. With her, an emotion of joy repays the
+contemplation. To Anna, the future is hung in dark forebodings. She
+recalls to mind the interview with Madame Montford, but that only tends
+to deepen the storm of anguish the contemplation of her parentage
+naturally gives rise to. With Maria, the present hangs dark and the
+future brightens. She thinks of the absent one she loves--of how she can
+best serve her aged father, and how she can make their little home
+cheerful until the return of Tom Swiggs, who is gone abroad. It must be
+here disclosed that the old man had joined their hands, and invoked a
+blessing on their heads, ere Tom took his departure. Maria looks forward
+to the day of his return with joyous emotions. That return is the day
+dream of her heart; in it she sees her future brightening. Such are the
+cherished thoughts of a pure mind. Poverty may gnaw away at the
+hearthstone, cares and sorrow may fall thick in your path, the rich may
+frown upon you, and the vicious sport with your misfortunes, but virtue
+gives you power to overcome them all. In Maria's ear something whispers:
+Woman! hold fast to thy virtue, for if once it go neither gold nor false
+tongues can buy it back.
+
+Anna sees the companion of her early life, and the sharer of her
+sufferings, shut up in a prison, a robber, doomed to the lash. "He was
+sincere to me, and my only true friend--am I the cause of this?" she
+muses. Her heart answers, and her bosom fills with dark and stormy
+emotions. One small boon is now all she asks. She could bow down and
+worship before the throne of virgin innocence, for now its worth towers,
+majestic, before her. It discovers to her the falsity of her day-dream;
+it tells her what an empty vessel is this life of ours without it. She
+knows George Mullholland loves her passionately; she knows how deep will
+be his grief, how revengeful his feelings. It is poverty that fastens
+the poison in the heart of the rejected lover. The thought of this
+flashes through her mind. His hopeless condition, crushed out as it were
+to gratify him in whose company her pleasures are but transitory, and
+may any day end, darkens as she contemplates it. How can she acquit her
+conscience of having deliberately and faithlessly renounced one who was
+so true to her? She repines, her womanly nature revolts at the
+thought--the destiny her superstition pictured so dark and terrible,
+stares her in the face. She resolves a plan for his release, and,
+relieved with a hope that she can accomplish it while propitiating the
+friendship of the Judge, the next day seeks him in his prison cell, and
+with all that vehemence woman, in the outpouring of her generous
+impulses, can call to her aid, implores his forgiveness. But the rust of
+disappointment has dried up his better nature; his heart is wrung with
+the shafts of ingratitude--all the fierce passions of his nature, hate,
+scorn and revenge, rise up in the one stormy outburst of his soul. He
+casts upon her a look of withering scorn, the past of that life so
+chequered flashes vividly through his thoughts, his hate deepens, he
+hurls her from him, invokes a curse upon her head, and shuts her from
+his sight. "Mine will be the retribution!" he says, knitting his dark
+brow.
+
+How is it with the Judge--that high functionary who provides thus
+sumptuously for his mistress? His morals, like his judgments, are
+excused, in the cheap quality of our social morality.
+
+Such is gilded vice; such is humble virtue.
+
+A few days more and the term of the Sessions commences. George is
+arraigned, and the honorable Mr. Snivel, who laid the plot, and
+furthered the crime, now appears as a principal witness. He procures the
+man's conviction, and listens with guilty heart to the sentence, for he
+is rearraigned on sentence day, and Mr. Snivel is present. And while
+the culprit is sentenced to two years imprisonment, and to receive
+eighty lashes, laid on his bare back, while at the public whipping-post,
+at four stated times, the man who stimulated the hand of the criminal,
+is honored and flattered by society. Such is the majesty of the law.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV.
+
+IN WHICH A LITTLE LIGHT IS SHED UPON THE CHARACTER OF OUR CHIVALRY.
+
+
+Mr. McArthur has jogged on, in the good old way but his worldly store
+seems not to increase. The time, nevertheless, is arrived when he is
+expected to return the little amount borrowed of Keepum, through the
+agency of Mr. Snivel. Again and again has he been notified that he must
+pay or go to that place in which we lock up all our very estimable
+"first families," whose money has taken wings and flown away. Not
+content with this, the two worthy gentlemen have more than once invaded
+the Antiquary's back parlor, and offered, as we have described in a
+former chapter, improper advances to his daughter.
+
+Mr. Keepum, dressed in a flashy coat, his sharp, mercenary face, hectic
+of night revels, and his small but wicked eyes wandering over Mr.
+McArthur's stock in trade, is seen in pursuit of his darling object. "I
+don't mind so much about the pay, old man! I'm up well in the world. The
+fact is, I am esteemed--and I am!--a public benefactor. I never forget
+how much we owe to the chivalric spirit of our ancestors, and in dealing
+with the poor--money matters and politics are different from anything
+else--I am too generous. I don't mind my own interests enough. There it
+is!" Mr. Keepum says this with an evident relief to himself. Indeed it
+must here be acknowledged that this very excellent member of the St.
+Cecilia Society, and profound dealer in lottery tickets, like our fine
+gentlemen who are so scrupulous of their chivalry while stabbing men
+behind their backs, fancies himself one of the most disinterested beings
+known to generous nature.
+
+Bent and tottering, the old man recounts the value of his curiosities;
+which, like our chivalry, is much talked of but hard to get at. He
+offers in apology for the nonpayment of the debt his knowledge of the
+old continentals, just as we offer our chivalry in excuse for every
+disgraceful act--every savage law. In fine, he follows the maxims of our
+politicians, recapitulating a dozen or more things (wiping the sweat
+from his brow the while) that have no earthly connection with the
+subject. "They are all very well," Mr. Keepum rejoins, with an air of
+self-importance, dusting the ashes from his cigar. He only wishes to
+impress the old man with the fact that he is his very best friend.
+
+And having somewhat relieved the Antiquary's mind of its apprehensions,
+for McArthur stood in great fear of duns, Mr. Keepum pops, uninvited,
+into the "back parlor," where he has not long been when Maria's screams
+for assistance break forth.
+
+"Ah! I am old--there is not much left me now. Yes, I am old, my
+infirmities are upon me. Pray, good man, spare me my daughter. Nay, you
+must not break the peace of my house;" mutters the old man, advancing
+into the room, with infirm step, and looking wistfully at his daughter,
+as if eager to clasp her in his arms. Maria stands in a defiant
+attitude, her left hand poised on a chair, and her right pointing
+scornfully in the face of Keepum, who recoils under the look of
+withering scorn that darkens her countenance. "A gentleman! begone,
+knave! for your looks betray you. You cannot buy my ruin with your gold;
+you cannot deceive me with your false tongue. If hate were a noble
+passion, I would not vent that which now agitates my bosom on you. Nay,
+I would reserve it for a better purpose--"
+
+"Indeed, indeed--now I say honestly, your daughter mistakes me. I was
+only being a little friendly to her," interrupts the chopfallen man. He
+did not think her capable of summoning so much passion to her aid.
+
+Maria, it must be said, was one of those seemingly calm natures in which
+resentment takes deepest root, in which the passions are most violent
+when roused. Solitude does, indeed, tend to invest the passionate nature
+with a calm surface. A less penetrating observer than the chivalrous
+Keepum, might have discovered in Maria a spirit he could not so easily
+humble to his uses. It is the modest, thoughtful woman, you cannot make
+lick the dust in sorrow and tears. "Coward! you laid ruffian hands on
+me!" says Maria, again towering to her height, and giving vent to her
+feelings.
+
+"Madam, Madam," pursues Keepum, trembling and crouching, "you asperse my
+honor,--my sacred honor, Madam. You see--let me say a word, now--you are
+letting your temper get the better of you. I never, and the public know
+I never did--I never did a dishonorable thing in my life." Turning to
+the bewildered old man, he continues: "to be called a knave, and
+upbraided in this manner by your daughter, when I have befriended you
+all these days!" His wicked eyes fall guilty to the floor.
+
+"Out man!--out! Let your sense of right, if you have it, teach you what
+is friendship. Know that, like mercy, it is not poured out with hands
+reeking of female dishonor."
+
+Mr. Keepum, like many more of our very fine gentlemen, had so trained
+his thoughts to look upon the poor as slaves created for a base use,
+that he neither could bring his mind to believe in the existence of such
+things as noble spirits under humble roofs, nor to imagine himself--even
+while committing the grossest outrages--doing aught to sully the high
+chivalric spirit he fancied he possessed. The old Antiquary, on the
+other hand, was not a little surprised to find his daughter displaying
+such extraordinary means of repulsing an enemy.
+
+Trembling, and childlike he stands, conscious of being in the grasp of a
+knave, whose object was more the ruin of his daughter than the recovery
+of a small amount of money, the tears glistening in his eyes, and the
+finger of old age marked on his furrowed brow.
+
+"Father, father!" says Maria, and the words hang upon her quivering
+lips, her face becomes pale as marble, her strength deserts her,--she
+trembles from head to foot, and sinks upon the old man's bosom,
+struggling to smother her sobs. Her passion has left her; her calmer
+nature has risen up to rebuke it. The old man leads her tenderly to the
+sofa, and there seeks to sooth her troubled spirit.
+
+"As if this hub bub was always to last!" a voice speaks suddenly. It is
+the Hon. Mr. Snivel, who looks in at the eleventh hour, as he says, to
+find affairs always in a fuss. "Being a man of legal knowledge--always
+ready to do a bit of a good turn--especially in putting a disordered
+house to rights--I thought it well to look in, having a leisure minute
+or two (we have had a convention for dissolving the Union, and passed a
+vote to that end!) to give to my old friends," Mr. Snivel says, in a
+voice at once conciliating and insinuating. "I always think of a border
+feud when I come here--things that find no favor with me." Mr. Snivel,
+having first patted the old man on the shoulder, exchanges a significant
+wink with his friend Keepum, and then bestows upon him what he is
+pleased to call a little wholesome advice. "People misunderstand Mr.
+Keepum," he says, "who is one of the most generous of men, but lacks
+discretion, and in trying to be polite to everybody, lets his feelings
+have too much latitude now and then." Maria buries her face in her
+handkerchief, as if indifferent to the reconciliation offered.
+
+"Now let this all be forgotten--let friendship reign among friends:
+that's my motto. But! I say,--this is a bad piece of news we have this
+morning. Clipped this from an English paper," resumes the Hon.
+gentleman, drawing coolly from his pocket a bit of paper, having the
+appearance of an extract.
+
+"You are never without some kind of news--mostly bad!" says Keepum,
+flinging himself into a chair, with an air of restored confidence. Mr.
+Snivel bows, thanks the gentleman for the compliment, and commences to
+read. "This news," he adds, "may be relied upon, having come from
+Lloyd's List: 'Intelligence was received here (this is, you must
+remember, from a London paper, he says, in parentheses) this morning, of
+the total loss of the American ship ----, bound from this port for
+Charleston, U.S., near the Needles. Every soul on board, except the
+Captain and second mate, perished. The gale was one of the worst ever
+known on this coast--'"
+
+"The worst ever known on this coast!" ejaculates Mr. Keepum, his wicked
+eyes steadily fixed upon Maria. "One of Trueman's ships," Mr. Snivel
+adds. "Unlucky fellow, that Trueman--second ship he has lost."
+
+"By-the-bye," rejoins Keepum, as if a thought has just flashed upon him,
+"your old friend, Tom Swiggs, was supercargo, clerk, or whatever you may
+call it, aboard that ship, eh?"
+
+It is the knave who can most naturally affect surprise and regret when
+it suits his purposes, and Mr. Snivel is well learned in the art.
+"True!" he says, "as I'm a Christian. Well, I had made a man of him--I
+don't regret it, for I always liked him--and this is the end of the poor
+fellow, eh?" Turning to McArthur, he adds, rather unconcernedly: "You
+know somewhat of him?" The old man sits motionless beside his daughter,
+the changes of whose countenance discover the inward emotions that
+agitate her bosom. Her eyes fill with tears; she exchanges inquiring
+glances, first with Keepum, then with Snivel; then a thought strikes her
+that she received a letter from Tom, setting forth his prospects, and
+his intention to return in the ship above named. It was very natural
+that news thus artfully manufactured, and revealed with such apparent
+truthfulness, should produce a deep impression in the mind of an
+unsuspecting girl. Indeed, it was with some effort that she bore up
+under it. Expressions of grief she would fain suppress before the enemy
+gain a mastery over her--and ere they are gone the cup flows over, and
+she sinks exhausted upon the sofa.
+
+"There! good as far as it goes. You have now another mode of gaining the
+victory," Mr. Snivel whispers in the ear of his friend, Keepum; and the
+two gentlemen pass into the street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI.
+
+IN WHICH A LAW IS SEEN TO SERVE BASE PURPOSES.
+
+
+Maria has passed a night of unhappiness. Hopes and fears are knelling in
+the morning, which brings nothing to relieve her anxiety for the absent
+one; and Mr. Snivel has taken the precaution to have the news of the
+lost ship find its way into the papers.
+
+And while our city seems in a state of very general excitement; while
+great placards on every street corner inform the wondering stranger that
+a mighty Convention (presided over by the Hon. S. Snivel) for dissolving
+the Union, is shortly to be holden; while our political world has got
+the Union on its shoulders, and threatens to throw it into the nearest
+ditch; while our streets swarm with long, lean, and very hairy-faced
+delegates (all lusty of war and secession), who have dragged themselves
+into the city to drink no end of whiskey, and say all sorts of foolish
+things their savage and half-civilized constituents are expected to
+applaud; while our more material and conservative citizens are thinking
+what asses we make of ourselves; while the ship-of-war we built to fight
+the rest of the Union, lies an ugly lump in the harbor, and "won't go
+over the bar;" while the "shoe-factory" we established to supply
+niggerdom with soles, is snuffed out for want of energy and capacity to
+manage it; while some of our non-slaveholding, but most active secession
+merchants, are moving seriously in the great project of establishing a
+"SOUTHERN CANDLE-FACTORY"--a thing much needed in the "up-country;"
+while our graver statesmen (who don't get the State out of the Union
+fast enough for the ignorant rabble, who have nothing but their folly at
+stake) are pondering over the policy of spending five hundred thousand
+dollars for the building of another war-ship--one that "will go over the
+bar;" and while curiously-written letters from Generals Commander and
+Quattlebum, offering to bring their allied forces into the field--to
+blow this confederation down at a breath whenever called upon, are being
+published, to the great joy of all secessiondom; while saltpetre,
+broadswords, and the muskets made for us by Yankees to fight Yankees,
+and which were found to have wood instead of flint in their hammers,
+(and which trick of the Yankees we said was just like the Yankees,) are
+in great demand--and a few of our mob-politicians, who are all "Kern'ls"
+of regiments that never muster, prove conclusively our necessity for
+keeping a fighting-man in Congress; while, we assert, many of our first
+and best known families have sunk the assemblies of the St. Cecilia in
+the more important question of what order of government will best
+suit--in the event of our getting happily out of the Union!--our refined
+and very exacting state of society;--whether an Empire or a Monarchy,
+and whether we ought to set up a Quattlebum or Commander
+dynasty?--whether the Bungle family or the Jungle family (both fighting
+families) will have a place nearest the throne; what sort of orders will
+be bestowed, who will get them, and what colored liveries will best
+become us (all of which grave questions threaten us with a very
+extensive war of families)?--while all these great matters find us in a
+sea of trouble, there enters the curiosity-shop of the old Antiquary a
+suspicious-looking individual in green spectacles.
+
+"Mr. Hardscrabble!" says the man, bowing and taking a seat, leisurely,
+upon the decrepit sofa. Mr. McArthur returns his salutation,
+contemplates him doubtingly for a minute, then resumes his fussing and
+brushing.
+
+The small, lean figure; the somewhat seedy broadcloth in which it is
+enveloped; the well-browned and very sharp features; the straight,
+dark-gray hair, and the absent manner of Mr. Hardscrabble, might, with
+the uninitiated, cause him to be mistaken for an "up-country" clergyman
+of the Methodist denomination.
+
+"Mr. Hardscrabble? Mr. Hardscrabble? Mr. Hardscrabble?" muses the
+Antiquary, canting his head wisely, "the Sheriff, as I'm a man of
+years!"
+
+Mr. Hardscrabble comforts his eyes with his spectacles, and having
+glanced vacantly over the little shop, as if to take an inventory of its
+contents, draws from his breast-pocket a paper containing very ominous
+seals and scrawls.
+
+"I'm reluctant about doing these things with an old man like you," Mr.
+Hardscrabble condescends to say, in a sharp, grating voice; "but I have
+to obey the demands of my office." Here he commences reading the paper
+to the trembling old man, who, having adjusted his broad-bowed
+spectacles, and arrayed them against the spectacles of Mr. Hardscrabble,
+says he thinks it contains a great many useless recapitulations.
+
+Mr. Hardscrabble, his eyes peering eagerly through his glasses, and his
+lower jaw falling and exposing the inner domain of his mouth, replies
+with an--"Umph." The old Antiquary was never before called upon to
+examine a document so confusing to his mind. Not content with a
+surrender of his property, it demands his body into the bargain--all at
+the suit of one Keepum. He makes several motions to go show it to his
+daughter; but that, Mr. Hardscrabble thinks, is scarce worth while. "I
+sympathize with you--knowing how frugal you have been through life. A
+list of your effects--if you have one--will save a deal of trouble. I
+fear (Mr. Hardscrabble works his quid) my costs will hardly come out of
+them."
+
+"There's a fortune in them--if the love of things of yore--" The old man
+hesitates, and shakes his head dolefully.
+
+"Yore!--a thing that would starve out our profession."
+
+"A little time to turn, you know. There's my stock of uniforms."
+
+"Well--I--know," Mr. Hardscrabble rejoins, with a drawl; "but I must
+lock up the traps. Yes, I must lock you up, and sell you out--unless you
+redeem before sale day; that you can't do, I suppose?"
+
+And while the old man totters into the little back parlor, and, giving
+way to his emotions, throws himself upon the bosom of his fond daughter,
+to whom he discloses his troubles, Mr. Hardscrabble puts locks and bolts
+upon his curiosity-shop. This important business done, he leads the old
+man away, and gives him a lodging in the old jail.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII.
+
+A SHORT CHAPTER OF ORDINARY EVENTS.
+
+
+To bear up against the malice of inexorable enemies is at once the gift
+and the shield of a noble nature. And here it will be enough to say,
+that Maria bore the burden of her ills with fortitude and resignation,
+trusting in Him who rights the wronged, to be her deliverer. What took
+place when she saw her aged father led away, a prisoner; what thoughts
+invaded that father's mind when the prison bolt grated on his ear, and
+he found himself shut from all that had been dear to him through life,
+regard for the feelings of the reader forbids us recounting here.
+
+Naturally intelligent, Maria had, by close application to books,
+acquired some knowledge of the world. Nor was she entirely ignorant of
+those arts designing men call to their aid when seeking to effect the
+ruin of the unwary female. Thus fortified, she fancied she saw in the
+story of the lost ship a plot against herself, while the persecution of
+her father was only a means to effect the object. Launched between hope
+and fear, then--hope that her lover still lived, and that with his
+return her day would brighten--fear lest the report might be founded in
+truth, she nerves herself for the struggle. She knew full well that to
+give up in despair--to cast herself upon the cold charities of a busy
+world, would only be to hasten her downfall. Indeed, she had already
+felt how cold, and how far apart were the lines that separated our rich
+from our poor.
+
+The little back parlor is yet spared to Maria, and in it she may now be
+seen plying at her needle, early and late. It is the only means left her
+of succoring the parent from whom she has been so ruthlessly separated.
+Hoping, fearing, bright to-day and dark to-morrow, willing to work and
+wait--here she sits. A few days pass, and the odds and ends of the
+Antiquary's little shop, like the "shirts" of the gallant Fremont, whom
+we oppressed while poor, and essayed to flatter when a hero, are
+gazetted under the head of "sheriff's sale." Hope, alas! brings no
+comfort to Maria. Time rolls on, the month's rent falls due, her father
+pines and sinks in confinement, and her needle is found inadequate to
+the task undertaken. Necessity demands, and one by one she parts with
+her few cherished mementos of the past, that she may save an aged father
+from starvation.
+
+The "prisoner" has given notice that he will take the benefit of the
+act--commonly called "an act for the relief of poor debtors." But before
+he can reach this boon, ten days must elapse. Generous-minded
+legislators, no doubt, intended well when they constructed this act, but
+so complex are its provisions that any legal gentleman may make it a
+very convenient means of oppression. And in a community where laws not
+only have their origin in the passions of men, but are made to serve
+popular prejudices--where the quality of justice obtained depends upon
+the position and sentiments of him who seeks it,--the weak have no
+chance against the powerful.
+
+The multiplicity of notices, citations, and schedules, necessary to the
+setting free of this "poor debtor" (for these fussy officials must be
+paid), Maria finds making a heavy drain on her lean purse.
+
+The Court is in session, and the ten days having glided away, the old
+man is brought into "open Court" by two officials with long tipstaffs,
+and faces looking as if they had been carefully pickled in strong
+drinks. "Surely, now, they'll set me free--I can give them no more--I am
+old and infirm--they have got all--and my daughter!" he muses within
+himself. Ah! he little knows how uncertain a thing is the law.
+
+The Judge is engaged over a case in which two very fine old families are
+disputing for the blood and bones of a little "nigger" girl. The
+possession of this helpless slave, the Judge (he sits in easy dignity)
+very naturally regards of superior importance when compared with the
+freedom of a "poor debtor." He cannot listen to the story of
+destitution--precisely what was sought by Keepum--to-day, and to-morrow
+the Court adjourns for six months.
+
+The Antiquary is remanded back to his cell. No one in Court cares for
+him; no one has a thought for the achings of that heart his release
+would unburden; the sorrows of that lone girl are known only to herself
+and the One in whom she puts her trust. She, nevertheless, seeks the old
+man in his prison, and there comforts him as best she can.
+
+Five days more, and the "prisoner" is brought before the Commissioner
+for Special Bail, who is no less a personage than the rosy-faced Clerk
+of the Court, just adjourned. And here we cannot forbear to say, that
+however despicable the object sought, however barren of right the plea,
+however adverse to common humanity the spirit of the action, there is
+always to be found some legal gentleman, true to the lower instincts of
+the profession, ready to lend himself to his client's motives. And in
+this instance, the cunning Keepum finds an excellent instrument of
+furthering his ends, in one Peter Crimpton, a somewhat faded and rather
+disreputable member of the learned profession. It is said of Crimpton,
+that he is clever at managing cases where oppression rather than justice
+is sought, and that his present client furnishes the larger half of his
+practice.
+
+And while Maria, too sensitive to face the gaze of the coarse crowd,
+pauses without, silent and anxious, listening one moment and hoping the
+next will see her old father restored to her, the adroit Crimpton rises
+to object to "the Schedule." To the end that he may substantiate his
+objections, he proposes to examine the prisoner. Having no alternative,
+the Commissioner grants the request.
+
+The old Antiquary made out his schedule with the aid of the good-hearted
+jailer, who inserted as his effects, "_Necessary wearing apparel_." It
+was all he had. Like the gallant Fremont, when he offered to resign his
+shirts to his chivalric creditor, he could give them no more. A few
+questions are put; the old man answers them with childlike simplicity,
+then sits down, his trembling fingers wandering into his beard. Mr.
+Crimpton produces his paper, sets forth his objections, and asks
+permission to file them, that the case may come before a jury of
+"Special Bail."
+
+Permission is granted. The reader will not fail to discover the object
+of this procedure. Keepum hopes to continue the old man in prison, that
+he may succeed in breaking down the proud spirit of his daughter.
+
+The Commissioner listens attentively to the reading of the objections.
+The first sets forth that Mr. McArthur has a gold watch;[7] the second,
+that he has a valuable breastpin, said to have been worn by Lord
+Cornwallis; and the third, that he has one Yorick's skull. All of these,
+Mr. Crimpton regrets to say, are withheld from the schedule, which
+virtually constitutes fraud. The facile Commissioner bows; the assembled
+crowd look on unmoved; but the old man shakes his head and listens. He
+is surprised to find himself accused of fraud; but the law gives him no
+power to show his own innocence. The Judge of the Sessions was competent
+to decide the question now raised, and to have prevented this reverting
+to a "special jury"--this giving the vindictive plaintiff a means of
+torturing his infirm victim. Had he but listened to the old man's tale
+of poverty, he might have saved the heart of that forlorn girl many a
+bitter pang.
+
+[Footnote 7: Our Charleston readers will recognize the case here
+described, without any further key.]
+
+The motion granted, a day is appointed--ten days must elapse--for a
+hearing before the Commissioner of "Special Bail," and his special jury.
+The rosy-faced functionary, being a jolly and somewhat flexible sort of
+man, must needs give his health an airing in the country. What is the
+liberty of a poor white with us? Our Governor, whom we esteem singularly
+sagacious, said it were better all our poor were enslaved, and this
+opinion finds high favor with our first families. The worthy
+Commissioner, in addition to taking care of his health, is expected to
+make any number of speeches, full of wind and war, to several recently
+called Secession Conventions. He will find time (being a General by
+courtesy) to review the up-country militia, and the right and left
+divisions of the South Carolina army. He will be feted by some few of
+our most distinguished Generals, and lecture before the people of
+Beaufort (a very noisy town of forty-two inhabitants, all heroes), to
+whom he will prove the necessity of our State providing itself with an
+independent steam navy.
+
+The old Antiquary is remanded back to jail--to wait the coming day.
+Maria, almost breathless with anxiety, runs to him as he comes tottering
+out of Court in advance of the official, lays her trembling hand upon
+his arm, and looks inquiringly in his face. "Oh! my father, my
+father!--released? released?" she inquires, with quivering lips and
+throbbing heart. A forced smile plays over his time-worn face, he looks
+upward, shakes his head in sorrow, and having patted her affectionately
+on the shoulder, throws his arms about her neck and kisses her. That
+mute appeal, that melancholy voucher of his sorrows, knells the painful
+answer in her ears, "Then you are not free to come with me? Oh, father,
+father!" and she wrings her hands and gives vent to her tears.
+
+"The time will come, my daughter, when my Judge will hear me--will judge
+me right. My time will come soon--" And here the old man pauses, and
+chokes with his emotions. Maria returns the old man's kiss, and being
+satisfied that he is yet in the hands of his oppressors, sets about
+cheering up his drooping spirits. "Don't think of me, father," she
+says--"don't think of me! Let us put our trust in Him who can shorten
+the days of our tribulation." She takes the old man's arm, and like one
+who would forget her own troubles in her anxiety to relieve another,
+supports him on his way back to prison.
+
+It is high noon. She stands before the prison gate, now glancing at the
+serene sky, then at the cold, frowning walls, and again at the old pile,
+as if contemplating the wearying hours he must pass within it. "Don't
+repine--nerve yourself with resolution, and all will be well!" Having
+said this with an air of confidence in herself, she throws her arms
+about the old man's neck, presses him to her bosom, kisses and kisses
+his wrinkled cheek, then grasps his hand warmly in her own. "Forget
+those who persecute you, for it is good. Look above, father--to Him who
+tempers the winds, who watches over the weak, and gives the victory to
+the right!" She pauses, as the old man holds her hand in silence. "This
+life is but a transient sojourn at best; full of hopes and fears, that,
+like a soldier's dream, pass away when the battle is ended." Again she
+fondly shakes his hand, lisps a sorrowing "good-bye," watches him, in
+silence, out of sight, then turns away in tears, and seeks her home.
+There is something so pure, so earnest in her solicitude for the old
+man, that it seems more of heaven than earth.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.
+
+A STORY WITHOUT WHICH THIS HISTORY WOULD BE FOUND WANTING.
+
+
+On taking leave of her father, Maria, her heart overburdened with grief,
+and her mind abstracted, turned towards the Battery, and continued,
+slowly and sadly, until she found herself seated beneath a tree, looking
+out upon the calm bay. Here, scarce conscious of those who were
+observing her in their sallies, she mused until dusky evening, when the
+air seemed hushed, and the busy hum of day was dying away in the
+distance. The dark woodland on the opposite bank gave a bold border to
+the soft picture; the ships rode sluggishly upon the polished waters;
+the negro's touching song echoed and re-echoed along the shore; and the
+boatman's chorus broke upon the stilly air in strains so dulcet. And as
+the mellow shadows of night stole over the scene--as the heavens looked
+down in all their sereneness, and the stars shone out, and twinkled, and
+laughed, and danced upon the blue waters, and coquetted with the
+moonbeams--for the moon was up, and shedding a halo of mystic light over
+the scene--making night merry, nature seemed speaking to Maria in words
+of condolence. Her heart was touched, her spirits gained strength, her
+soul seemed in a loftier and purer atmosphere.
+
+"Poor, but virtuous--virtue ennobles the poor. Once gone, the world
+never gives it back!" she muses, and is awakened from her reverie by a
+sweet, sympathizing voice, whispering in her ear. "Woman! you are in
+trouble,--linger no longer here, or you will fall into the hands of your
+enemies." She looks up, and there stands at her side a young female,
+whose beauty the angels might envy. The figure came upon her so suddenly
+that she hesitates for a reply to the admonition.
+
+"Take this, it will do something toward relieving your wants (do not
+open it now), and with this (she places a stiletto in her hand) you can
+strike down the one who attempts your virtue. Nay, remember that while
+you cling to that, you are safe--lose it, and you are gone forever. Your
+troubles will soon end; mine are for a life-time. Yours find a
+relaxation in your innocence; mine is seared into my heart with my own
+shame. It is guilt--shame! that infuses into the heart that poison, for
+which years of rectitude afford no antidote. Go quickly--get from this
+lone place! You are richer than me." She slips something into Maria's
+hand, and suddenly disappears.
+
+Maria rises from her seat, intending to follow the stranger, but she is
+out of sight. Who can this mysterious messenger, this beautiful stranger
+be? Maria muses. A thought flashes across her mind; it is she who sought
+our house at midnight, when my father revealed her dark future! "Yes,"
+she says to herself, "it is the same lovely face; how oft it has flitted
+in my fancy!"
+
+She reaches her home only to find its doors closed against her. A
+ruthless landlord has taken her all, and forced her into the street.
+
+You may shut out the sterner sex without involving character or inviting
+insult; but with woman the case is very different. However pure her
+character, to turn her into the street, is to subject her to a stigma,
+if not to fasten upon her a disgrace. You may paint, in your
+imagination, the picture of a woman in distress, but you can know little
+of the heart-achings of the sufferer. The surface only reflects the
+faint gleams, standing out here and there like the lesser objects upon a
+dark canvas.
+
+Maria turns reluctantly from that home of so many happy associations, to
+wander about the streets and by-ways of the city. The houses of the rich
+seem frowning upon her; her timid nature tells her they have no doors
+open to her. The haunts of the poor, at this moment, infuse a sanguine
+joyousness into her soul. How glad would she be, if they did but open to
+her. Is not the Allwise, through the beauties of His works, holding her
+up, while man only is struggling to pull her down?
+
+And while Maria wanders homeless about the streets of Charleston, we
+must beg you, gentle reader, to accompany us into one of the great
+thoroughfares of London, where is being enacted a scene appertaining to
+this history.
+
+It is well-nigh midnight, the hour when young London is most astir in
+his favorite haunts; when ragged and well-starved flower-girls, issuing
+from no one knows where, beset your path through Trafalgar and Liecester
+squares, and pierce your heart with their pleadings; when the Casinoes
+of the Haymarket and Picadilly are vomiting into the streets their frail
+but richly-dressed women; when gaudy supper-rooms, reeking of lobster
+and bad liquor, are made noisy with the demands of their
+flauntily-dressed customers; when little girls of thirteen are dodging
+in and out of mysterious courts and passages leading to and from
+Liecester square; when wily cabmen, ranged around the "great globe,"
+importune you for a last fare; and when the aristocratic swell, with
+hectic face and maudlin laugh, saunters from his club-room to seek
+excitement in the revels at Vauxhall.
+
+A brown mist hangs over the dull area of Trafalgar square. The bells of
+old St. Martin's church have chimed merrily out their last night peal;
+the sharp voice of the omnibus conductor no longer offends the ear; the
+tiny little fountains have ceased to give out their green water; and the
+lights of the Union Club on one side, and Morley's hotel on the other,
+throw pale shadows into the open square.
+
+The solitary figure of a man, dressed in the garb of a gentleman, is
+seen sauntering past Northumberland house, then up the east side of the
+square. Now he halts at the corner of old St. Martin's church, turns and
+contemplates the scene before him. On his right is that squatty mass of
+freestone and smoke, Englishmen exultingly call the Royal Academy, but
+which Frenchmen affect contempt for, and uninitiated Americans mistake
+for a tomb. An equestrian statue of one of the Georges rises at the east
+corner; Morley's Hotel, where Americans get poor fare and enormous
+charges, with the privilege of fancying themselves quite as good as the
+queen, on the left; the dead walls of Northumberland House, with their
+prisonlike aspect, and the mounted lion, his tail high in air, and quite
+as rigid as the Duke's dignity, in front; the opening that terminates
+the Strand, and gives place to Parliament street, at the head of which
+an equestrian statue of Charles the First, much admired by Englishmen,
+stands, his back on Westminster; the dingy shops of Spring Garden, and
+the Union Club to the right; and, towering high over all, Nelson's
+Column, the statue looking as if it had turned its back in pity on the
+little fountains, to look with contempt, first upon the bronze face of
+the unfortunate Charles, then upon Parliament, whose parsimony in
+withholding justice from his daughter, he would rebuke--and the picture
+is complete.
+
+The stranger turns, walks slowly past the steps of St. Martin's church,
+crosses to the opposite side of the street, and enters a narrow, wet,
+and dimly-lighted court, on the left. Having passed up a few paces, he
+finds himself hemmed in between the dead walls of St. Martin's
+"Work-house" on one side, and the Royal Academy on the other. He
+hesitates between fear and curiosity. The dull, sombre aspect of the
+court is indeed enough to excite the fears of the timid; but curiosity
+being the stronger impulse, he proceeds, resolved to explore it--to see
+whence it leads.
+
+A short turn to the right, and he has reached the front wall of the
+Queen's Barracks, on his left, and the entrance to the "Work-house," on
+his right; the one overlooking the other, and separated by a narrow
+street. Leave men are seen reluctantly returning in at the night-gate;
+the dull tramp of the sentinel within sounds ominously on the still air;
+and the chilly atmosphere steals into the system. Again the stranger
+pauses, as if questioning the safety of his position. Suddenly a low
+moan grates upon his ear, he starts back, then listens. Again it rises,
+in a sad wail, and pierces his very heart. His first thought is, that
+some tortured mortal is bemoaning his bruises in a cell of the
+"Work-house," which he mistakes for a prison. But his eyes fall to the
+ground, and his apprehensions are dispelled.
+
+The doors of the "Work-house" are fast closed; but there, huddled along
+the cold pavement, and lying crouched upon its doorsteps, in heaps that
+resemble the gatherings of a rag-seller, are four-and-thirty shivering,
+famishing, and homeless human beings--[8] (mostly young girls and aged
+women), who have sought at this "institution of charity" shelter for the
+night, and bread to appease their hunger.[9] Alas! its ruthless keepers
+have refused them bread, shut them into the street, and left them in
+rags scarce sufficient to cover their nakedness, to sleep upon the cold
+stones, a mute but terrible rebuke to those hearts that bleed over the
+sorrows of Africa, but have no blood to give out when the object of pity
+is a poor, heart-sick girl, forced to make the cold pavement her bed.
+The stranger shudders. "Are these heaps of human beings?" he questions
+within himself, doubting the reality before him. As if counting and
+hesitating what course to pursue for their relief, he paces up and down
+the grotesque mass, touching one, and gazing upon the haggard features
+of another, who looks up to see what it is that disturbs her. Again the
+low moan breaks on his ear, as the sentinel cries the first hour of
+morning. The figure of a female, her head resting on one of the steps,
+moves, a trembling hand steals from under her shawl, makes an effort to
+reach her head, and falls numb at her side. "Her hand is cold--her
+breathing like one in death--oh! God!--how terrible--what, what am I to
+do?" he says, taking the sufferer's hand in his own. Now he rubs it, now
+raises her head, makes an effort to wake a few of the miserable
+sleepers, and calls aloud for help. "Help! help! help!" he shouts, and
+the shout re-echoes through the air and along the hollow court. "A woman
+is dying,--dying here on the cold stones--with no one to raise a hand
+for her!" He seizes the exhausted woman in his arms, and with herculean
+strength rushes up the narrow street, in the hope of finding relief at
+the Gin Palace he sees at its head, in a blaze of light. But the body is
+seized with spasms, an hollow, hysteric wail follows, his strength gives
+way under the burden, and he sets the sufferer down in the shadow of a
+gas light. Her dress, although worn threadbare, still bears evidence of
+having belonged to one who has enjoyed comfort, and, perhaps, luxury.
+Indeed, there is something about the woman which bespeaks her not of the
+class generally found sleeping on the steps of St. Martin's Work-house.
+
+[Footnote 8: An institution for the relief of the destitute.]
+
+[Footnote 9: This sight may be seen at any time.]
+
+"What's here to do?" gruffly inquires a policeman, coming up with an air
+of indifference. The stranger says the woman is dying. The policeman
+stoops down, lays his hand upon her temples, then mechanically feels her
+arms and hands.
+
+"And I--must die--die--die in the street," whispers the woman, her head
+falling carelessly from the policeman's hand, in which it had rested.
+
+"Got her a bit below, at the Work'ouse door, among them wot sleeps
+there, eh?"
+
+The stranger says he did.
+
+"A common enough thing," pursues the policeman; "this a bad lot. Anyhow,
+we must give her a tow to the station." He rubs his hands, and prepares
+to raise her from the ground.
+
+"Hold! hold," interrupts the other, "she will die ere you get her
+there."
+
+"Die,--ah! yes, yes," whispers the woman. The mention of death seems to
+have wrung like poison into her very soul. "Don't--don't move me--the
+spell is almost broken. Oh! how can I die here, a wretch. Yes, I am
+going now--let me rest, rest, rest," the moaning supplicant mutters in a
+guttural voice, grasps spasmodically at the policeman's hand, heaves a
+deep sigh, and sets her eyes fixedly upon the stranger. She seems
+recognizing in his features something that gives her strength.
+
+"There--there--there!" she continues, incoherently, as a fit of
+hysterics seize upon her; "you, you, you, have--yes, you have come at
+the last hour, when my sufferings close. I see devils all about
+me--haunting me--torturing my very soul--burning me up! See them! see
+them!--here they come--tearing, worrying me--in a cloud of flame!" She
+clutches with her hands, her countenance fills with despair, and her
+body writhes in agony.
+
+"Bring brandy! warm,--stimulant! anything to give her strength! Quick!
+quick!--go fetch it, or she is gone!" stammers out the stranger.
+
+In another minute she calms away, and sinks exhausted upon the pavement.
+Policeman shakes his head, and says, "It 'ont do no good--she's done
+for."
+
+The light of the "Trumpeter's Arms" still blazes into the street, while
+a few greasy ale-bibbers sit moody about the tap-room.
+
+The two men raise the exhausted woman from the ground and carry her to
+the door. Mine host of the Trumpeter's Arms shrugs his shoulders and
+says, "She can't come in here." He fears she will damage the
+respectability of his house. "The Work-house is the place for her," he
+continues, gruffly.
+
+A sight at the stranger's well-filled purse, however, and a few
+shillings slipped into the host's hand, secures his generosity and the
+woman's admittance. "Indeed," says the host, bowing most servilely,
+"gentlemen, the whole Trumpeter's Arms is at your service." The woman is
+carried into a lonely, little back room, and laid upon a cot, which,
+with two wooden chairs, constitutes its furniture. And while the
+policeman goes in search of medical aid, the host of the Trumpeter's
+bestirs himself right manfully in the forthcoming of a stimulant. The
+stranger, meanwhile, lends himself to the care of the forlorn sufferer
+with the gentleness of a woman. He smoothes her pillow, arranges her
+dress tenderly, and administers the stimulant with a hand accustomed to
+the sick.
+
+A few minutes pass, and the woman seems to revive and brighten up. Mine
+host has set a light on the chair, at the side of the cot, and left her
+alone with the stranger. Slowly she opens her eyes, and with increasing
+anxiety sets them full upon him. Their recognition is mutual. "Madame
+Flamingo!" ejaculates the man, grasping her hand.
+
+"Tom Swiggs!" exclaims the woman, burying her face for a second, then
+pressing his hand to her lips, and kissing it with the fondness of a
+child, as her eyes swim in tears. "How strange to find you thus--"
+continues Tom, for truly it is he who sits by the forlorn woman.
+
+"More strange," mutters the woman, shaking her head sorrowfully, "that I
+should be brought to this terrible end. I am dying--I cannot last
+long--the fever has left me only to die a neglected wretch. Hear
+me--hear me, while I tell you the tale of my troubles, that others may
+take warning. And may God give me strength. And you--if I have wronged
+you, forgive me--it is all I can ask in this world." Here Tom
+administers another draught of warm brandy and water, the influence of
+which is soon perceptible in the regaining strength of the patient.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX.
+
+A STORY WITH MANY COUNTERPARTS.
+
+
+A very common story is this of Madame Flamingo's troubles. It has
+counterparts enough, and though they may be traced to a class of society
+less notorious than that with which she moved, are generally kept in the
+dark chamber of hidden thoughts. We are indeed fast gaining an
+unenviable fame for snobbery, for affecting to be what we never can be,
+and for our sad imitation of foreign flunkydom, which, finding us rivals
+in the realm of its tinsil, begins to button up its coat and look
+contemptuously at us over the left shoulder. If, albeit, the result of
+that passion for titles and plush (things which the empty-headed of the
+old world would seem to have consigned to the empty-headed of the new),
+which has of late so singularly discovered itself among our "best-known
+families," could be told, it would unfold many a tale of misery and
+betrayal. Pardon this digression, generous reader, and proceed with us
+to the story of Madame Flamingo.
+
+"And now," says the forlorn woman, in a faint, hollow voice, "when my
+ambition seemed served--I was ambitious, perhaps vain--I found myself
+the victim of an intrigue. I ask forgiveness of Him who only can forgive
+the wicked; but how can I expect to gain it?" She presses Tom's hand,
+and pauses for a second. "Yes, I was ambitious," she continues, "and
+there was something I wanted. I had money enough to live in comfort,
+but the thought that it was got of vice and the ruin of others, weighed
+me down. I wanted the respect of the world. To die a forgotten wretch;
+to have the grave close over me, and if remembered at all, only with
+execration, caused me many a dark thought." Here she struggles to
+suppress her emotions. "I sought to change my condition; that, you see,
+has brought me here. I married one to whom I intrusted my all, in whose
+rank, as represented to me by Mr. Snivel, and confirmed by his friend,
+the Judge, I confided. I hoped to move with him to a foreign country,
+where the past would all be wiped out, and where the associations of
+respectable society would be the reward of future virtue.
+
+"In London, where I now reap the fruits of my vanity, we enjoyed good
+society for a time, were sought after, and heaped with attentions. But I
+met those who had known me; it got out who I was; I was represented much
+worse than I was, and even those who had flattered me in one sphere, did
+not know me. In Paris it was the same. And there my husband said it
+would not do to be known by his titles, for, being an exile, it might be
+the means of his being recognized and kidnapped, and carried back a
+prisoner to his own dear Poland. In this I acquiesced, as I did in
+everything else that lightened his cares. Gradually he grew cold and
+morose towards me, left me for days at a time, and returned only to
+abuse and treat me cruelly. He had possession of all my money, which I
+soon found he was gambling away, without gaining an entree for me into
+society.
+
+"From Paris we travelled, as if without any settled purpose, into Italy,
+and from thence to Vienna, where I discovered that instead of being a
+prince, my husband was an impostor, and I his dupe. He had formerly
+been a crafty shoemaker; was known to the police as a notorious
+character, who, instead of having been engaged in the political
+struggles of his countrymen, had fled the country to escape the penalty
+of being the confederate of a desperate gang of coiners and
+counterfeiters. We had only been two days in Vienna when I found he had
+disappeared, and left me destitute of money or friends. My connection
+with him only rendered my condition more deplorable, for the police
+would not credit my story; and while he eluded its vigilance, I was
+suspected of being a spy in the confidence of a felon, and ruthlessly
+ordered to leave the country."
+
+"Did not your passport protect you?" interrupts Tom, with evident
+feeling.
+
+"No one paid it the least regard," resumes Madame Flamingo, becoming
+weaker and weaker. "No one at our legations evinced sympathy for me.
+Indeed, they all refused to believe my story. I wandered back from city
+to city, selling my wardrobe and the few jewels I had left, and
+confidently expecting to find in each place I entered, some one I had
+known, who would listen to my story, and supply me with means to reach
+my home. I could soon have repaid it, but my friends had gone with my
+money; no one dare venture to trust me--no one had confidence in
+me--every one to whom I appealed had an excuse that betrayed their
+suspicion of me. Almost destitute, I found myself back in London--how I
+got here, I scarce know--where I could make myself understood. My hopes
+now brightened, I felt that some generous-hearted captain would give me
+a passage to New York, and once home, my troubles would end. But being
+worn down with fatigue, and my strength prostrated, a fever set in, and
+I was forced to seek refuge in a miserable garret in Drury-Lane, and
+where I parted with all but what now remains on my back, to procure
+nourishment. I had begun to recover somewhat, but the malady left me
+broken down, and when all was gone, I was turned into the street. Yes,
+yes, yes, (she whispers,) they gave me to the streets; for twenty-four
+hours I have wandered without nourishment, or a place to lay my head. I
+sought shelter in a dark court, and there laid down to die; and when my
+eyes were dim, and all before me seemed mysterious and dark with curious
+visions, a hand touched me, and I felt myself borne away." Here her
+voice chokes, she sinks back upon the pillow, and closes her eyes as her
+hands fall careless at her side. "She breathes! she breathes yet!" says
+Tom, advancing his ear to the pale, quivering lips of the wretched
+woman. Now he bathes her temples with the vinegar from a bottle in the
+hand of the host, who is just entered, and stands looking on, his
+countenance full of alarm.
+
+"If she deys in my 'ouse, good sir, w'oat then?"
+
+"You mean the expense?"
+
+"Just so--it 'll be nae trifle, ye kno'!" The host shakes his head,
+doubtingly. Tom begs he will not be troubled about that, and gives
+another assurance from his purse that quite relieves the host's
+apprehensions. A low, heavy breathing, followed by a return of spasms,
+bespeaks the sinking condition of the sufferer. The policeman returns,
+preceded by a physician--the only one to be got at, he says--in very
+dilapidated broadcloth, and whose breath is rather strong of gin. "An'
+whereabutes did ye pick the woman up,--an, an, wha's teu stond the
+bill?" he inquires, in a deep Scotch brogue, then ordering the little
+window opened, feels clumsily the almost pulseless hand. Encouraged on
+the matter of his bill, he turns first to the host, then to Tom, and
+says, "the wuman's nae much, for she's amast dede wi' exhaustion." And
+while he is ordering a nostrum he knows can do no good, the woman makes
+a violent struggle, opens her eyes, and seems casting a last glance
+round the dark room. Now she sets them fixedly upon the ceiling, her
+lips pale, and her countenance becomes spectre-like--a low, gurgling
+sound is heard, the messenger of retribution is come--Madame Flamingo is
+dead!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XL.
+
+IN WHICH THE LAW IS SEEN TO CONFLICT WITH OUR CHERISHED CHIVALRY.
+
+
+"What could the woman mean, when on taking leave of me she said, 'you
+are far richer than me?'" questions Maria McArthur to herself, when,
+finding she is alone and homeless in the street, she opens the packet
+the woman Anna slipped so mysteriously into her hand, and finds it
+contains two twenty-dollar gold pieces. And while evolving in her mind
+whether she shall appropriate them to the relief of her destitute
+condition, her conscience smites her. It is the gold got of vice. Her
+heart shares the impulse that prompted the act, but her pure spirit
+recoils from the acceptance of such charity. "You are far richer than
+me!" knells in her ears, and reveals to her the heart-burnings of the
+woman who lives in licentious splendor. "I have no home, no friend near
+me, and nowhere to lay my head; and yet I am richer than her;" she says,
+gazing at the moon, and the stars, and the serene heavens. And the
+contemplation brings to her consolation and strength. She wanders back
+to the gate of the old prison, resolved to return the gold in the
+morning, and, was the night not so far spent, ask admittance into the
+cell her father occupies. But she reflects, and turns away; well knowing
+how much more painful will be the smart of his troubles does she
+disclose to him what has befallen her.
+
+She continues sauntering up a narrow by-lane in the outskirts of the
+city. A light suddenly flashes across her path, glimmers from the window
+of a little cabin, and inspires her with new hopes. She quickens her
+steps, reaches the door, meets a welcome reception, and is made
+comfortable for the night by the mulatto woman who is its solitary
+tenant. The woman, having given Maria of her humble cheer, seems only
+too anxious to disclose the fact that she is the slave and cast-off
+mistress of Judge Sleepyhorn, on whose head she invokes no few curses.
+It does not touch her pride so much that he has abandoned her, as that
+he has taken to himself one of another color. She is tall and straight
+of figure, with prominent features, long, silky black hair, and a rich
+olive complexion; and though somewhat faded of age, it is clear that she
+possessed in youth charms of great value in the flesh market.
+
+Maria discloses to her how she came in possession of the money, as also
+her resolve to return it in the morning. Undine (for such is her name)
+applauds this with great gusto. "Now, thar!" she says, "that's the
+spirit I likes." And straightway she volunteers to be the medium of
+returning the money, adding that she will show the hussy her contempt of
+her by throwing it at her feet, and "letting her see a _slave_ knows all
+about it."
+
+Maria fully appreciates the kindness, as well as sympathizes with the
+wounded pride of this slave daughter; nevertheless, there is an
+humiliation in being driven to seek shelter in a negro cabin that
+touches her feelings. For a white female to seek shelter under the roof
+of a negro's cabin, is a deep disgrace in the eyes of our very refined
+society; and having subjected herself to the humiliation, she knows full
+well that it may be used against her--in fine, made a means to defame
+her character.
+
+Night passes away, and the morning ushers in soft and sunny, but brings
+with it nothing to relieve her situation. She, however, returns the gold
+to Anna through a channel less objectionable than that Undine would have
+supplied, and sallies out to seek lodgings. In a house occupied by a
+poor German family, she seeks and obtains a little room, wherein she
+continues plying at her needle.
+
+The day set apart for the trial before a jury of "special bail" arrives.
+The rosy-faced commissioner is in his seat, a very good-natured jury is
+impanelled, and the feeble old man is again brought into court. Maria
+saunters, thoughtful, and anxious for the result, at the outer door.
+Peter Crimpton rises, addresses the jury at great length, sets forth the
+evident intention of fraud on the part of the applicant, and the
+enormity of the crime. He will now prove his objections by competent
+witnesses. The proceedings being in accordance with what Mr. Snivel
+facetiously terms the strict rules of special pleading, the old man's
+lips are closed. Several very respectable witnesses are called, and aver
+they saw the old Antiquary with a gold watch mounted, at a recent date;
+witnesses quite as dependable aver they have known him for many years,
+but never mounted with anything so extravagant as a gold watch. So much
+for the validity of testimony! It is very clear that the very
+respectable witnesses have confounded some one else with the prisoner.
+
+The Antiquary openly confesses to the possession of a pin, and the
+curious skull (neither of which are valuable beyond their associations),
+but declares it more an oversight than an intention that they were left
+out of the schedule. For the virtue of the schedule, Mr. Crimpton is
+singularly scrupulous; nor does it soften his aspersions that the old
+man offers to resign them for the benefit of the State. Mr. Crimpton
+gives his case to the jury, expressing his belief that a verdict will be
+rendered in his favor. A verdict of guilty (for so it is rendered in our
+courts) will indeed give the prisoner to him for an indefinite period.
+In truth, the only drawback is that the plaintiff will be required to
+pay thirty cents a day to Mr. Hardscrabble, who will starve him rightly
+soundly.
+
+The jury, very much to Mr. Crimpton's chagrin, remain seated, and
+declare the prisoner not guilty. Was this sufficient--all the law
+demanded? No. Although justice might have been satisfied, the law had
+other ends to serve, and in the hands of an instrument like Crimpton,
+could be turned to uses delicacy forbids our transcribing here. The old
+man's persecutors were not satisfied; the verdict of the jury was with
+him, but the law gave his enemies power to retain him six months longer.
+Mr. Crimpton demands a writ of appeal to the sessions. The Commissioner
+has no alternative, notwithstanding the character of the pretext upon
+which it is demanded is patent on its face. Such is but a feeble
+description of one of the many laws South Carolina retains on her
+statute book to oppress the poor and give power to the rich. If we would
+but purge ourselves of this distemper of chivalry and secession, that so
+blinds our eyes to the sufferings of the poor, while driving our
+politicians mad over the country (we verily believe them all coming to
+the gallows or insane hospital), how much higher and nobler would be our
+claim to the respect of the world!
+
+Again the old man is separated from his daughter, placed in the hands of
+a bailiff, and remanded back to prison, there to hope, fear, and while
+away the time, waiting six, perhaps eight months, for the sitting of the
+Court of Appeals. The "Appeal Court," you must know, would seem to have
+inherited the aristocracy of our ancestors, for, having a great aversion
+to business pursuits, it sits at very long intervals, and gets through
+very little business.
+
+When the news of her father's remand reaches Maria, it overwhelms her
+with grief. Varied are her thoughts of how she shall provide for the
+future; dark and sad are the pictures of trouble that rise up before
+her. Look whichever way she will, her ruin seems sealed. The health of
+her aged father is fast breaking--her own is gradually declining under
+the pressure of her troubles. Rapidly forced from one extreme to
+another, she appeals to a few acquaintances who have expressed
+friendship for her father; but their friendship took wings when grim
+poverty looked in. Southern hospitality, though bountifully bestowed
+upon the rich, rarely condescends to shed its bright rays over the needy
+poor.
+
+Maria advertises for a situation, in some of our first families, as
+private seamstress. Our first families having slaves for such offices,
+have no need of "poor white trash." She applies personally to several
+ladies of "eminent standing," and who busy themselves in getting up
+donations for northern Tract Societies. They have no sympathy to waste
+upon her. Her appeal only enlists coldness and indifference. The "Church
+Home" had lent an ear to her story, but that her address is very
+unsatisfactory, and it is got out that she is living a very suspicious
+life. The "Church Home," so virtuous and pious, can do nothing for her
+until she improves her mode of living. Necessity pinches Maria at every
+turn. "To be poor in a slave atmosphere, is truly a crime," she says to
+herself, musing over her hard lot, while sitting in her chamber one
+evening. "But I am the richer! I will rise above all!" She has just
+prepared to carry some nourishment to her father, when Keepum enters,
+his face flushed, and his features darkened with a savage scowl. "I have
+said you were a fool--all women are fools!--and now I know I was not
+mistaken!" This Mr. Keepum says while throwing his hat sullenly upon the
+floor. "Well," he pursues, having seated himself in a chair, looked
+designingly at the candle, then contorted his narrow face, and frisked
+his fingers through his bright red hair, "as to this here wincing and
+mincing--its all humbuggery of a woman like you. Affecting such morals!
+Don't go down here; tell you that, my spunky girl. Loose morals is what
+takes in poor folks."
+
+Maria answers him only with a look of scorn. She advances to the door to
+find it locked.
+
+"It was me--I locked it. Best to be private about the matter," says
+Keepum, a forced smile playing over his countenance.
+
+Unresolved whether to give vent to her passion, or make an effort to
+inspire his better nature, she stands a few moments, as if immersed in
+deep thought, then suddenly falls upon her knees at his feet, and
+implores him to save her this last step to her ruin. "Hear me, oh, hear
+me, and let your heart give out its pity for one who has only her virtue
+left her in this world;" she appeals to him with earnest voice, and eyes
+swimming in tears. "Save my father, for you have power. Give him his
+liberty, that I, his child, his only comfort in his old age, may make
+him happy. Yes! yes!--he will die where he is. Will you, can you--you
+have a heart--see me struggle against the rude buffets of an unthinking
+world! Will you not save me from the Poor-house--from the shame that
+awaits me with greedy clutches, and receive in return the blessing of a
+friendless woman! Oh!--you will, you will--release my father!--give him
+back to me and make me happy. Ah, ha!--I see, I see, you have feelings,
+better feelings--feelings that are not seared. You will have pity on me;
+you will forgive, relent--you cannot see a wretch suffer and not be
+moved to lighten her pain!" The calm, pensive expression that lights up
+her countenance is indeed enough to inspire the tender impulses of a
+heart in which every sense of generosity is not dried up.
+
+Her appeal, nevertheless, falls ineffectual. Mr. Keepum has no generous
+impulses to bestow upon beings so sensitive of their virtue. With him,
+it is a ware of very little value, inasmuch as the moral standard fixed
+by a better class of people is quite loose. He rises from his chair with
+an air of self-confidence, seizes her by the hand, and attempts to drag
+her upon his knee, saying, "you know I can and will make you a lady.
+Upon the honor of a gentleman, I love you--always have loved you; but
+what stands in the way, and is just enough to make any gentleman of my
+standing mad, is this here squeamishness--"
+
+"No! no! go from me. Attempt not again to lay your cruel hands upon me!"
+The goaded woman struggles from his grasp, and shrieks for help at the
+very top of her voice. And as the neighbors come rushing up stairs, Mr.
+Keepum valorously betakes himself into the street. Maddened with
+disappointment, and swearing to have revenge, he seeks his home, and
+there muses over the "curious woman's" unswerving resolution. "Cruelty!"
+he says to himself--"she charges me with cruelty! Well," (here he sighs)
+"it's only because she lacks a bringing up that can appreciate a
+gentleman." (Keepum could never condescend to believe himself less than
+a very fine gentleman.) "As sure as the world the creature is somewhat
+out in the head. She fancies all sorts of things--shame, disgrace, and
+ruin!--only because she don't understand the quality of our
+morality--that's all! There's no harm, after all, in these little
+enjoyments--if the girl would only understand them so. Our society is
+free from pedantry; and there--no damage can result where no one's the
+wiser. It's like stealing a blush from the cheek of beauty--nobody
+misses it, and the cheek continues as beautiful as ever." Thus
+philosophizes the chivalric gentleman, until he falls into a fast
+sleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLI.
+
+IN WHICH JUSTICE IS SEEN TO BE VERY ACCOMMODATING.
+
+
+A few days have elapsed, Maria has just paid a visit to her father,
+still in prison, and may be seen looking in at Mr. Keepum's office, in
+Broad street. "I come not to ask a favor, sir; but, at my father's
+request, to say to you that, having given up all he has in the world, it
+can do no good to any one to continue him in durance, and to ask of
+you--in whom the sole power rests--that you will grant him his release
+ere he dies?" She addresses Mr. Keepum, who seems not in a very good
+temper this morning, inasmuch as several of his best negroes, without
+regard to their value to him, got a passion for freedom into their
+heads, and have taken themselves away. In addition to this, he is much
+put out, as he says, at being compelled to forego the pleasure held out
+on the previous night, of tarring and feathering two northerners
+suspected of entertaining sentiments not exactly straight on the
+"peculiar question." A glorious time was expected, and a great deal of
+very strong patriotism wasted; but the two unfortunate individuals, by
+some means not yet discovered, got the vigilance committee, to whose
+care they were entrusted, very much intoxicated, and were not to be
+found when called for. Free knives, and not free speech, is our motto.
+And this Mr. Keepum is one of the most zealous in carrying out.
+
+Mr. Keepum sits, his hair fretted back over his lean forehead, before a
+table covered with papers, all indicating an immense business in lottery
+and other speculations. Now he deposits his feet upon it; leans back in
+his chair, puffs his cigar, and says, with an air of indifference to the
+speaker: "I shall not be able to attend to any business of yours to-day,
+Madam!" His clerk, a man of sturdy figure, with a broad, red face, and
+dressed in rather dilapidated broadcloth, is passing in and out of the
+front office, bearing in his fingers documents that require a signature
+or mark of approval.
+
+"I only come, sir, to tell you that we are destitute--" Maria pauses,
+and stands trembling in the doorway.
+
+"That's a very common cry," interrupts Keepum, relieving his mouth of
+the cigar. "The affair is entirely out of my hands. Go to my attorney,
+Peter Crimpton, Esq.,--what he does for you will receive my sanction. I
+must not be interrupted to-day. I might express a thousand regrets; yes,
+pass an opinion on your foolish pride, but what good would it do."
+
+And while Maria stands silent and hesitating, there enters the office
+abruptly a man in the garb of a mechanic. "I have come," speaks the man,
+in a tone of no very good humor, "for the last time. I asks of you--you
+professes to be a gentleman--my honest rights. If the law don't give it
+to me, I mean to take it with this erehand." (He shakes his hand at
+Keepum.) "I am a poor man who ain't thought much of because I works for
+a living; you have got what I had worked hard for, and lain up to make
+my little family comfortable. I ask a settlement and my own--what is
+due from one honest man to another!" He now approaches the table,
+strikes his hand upon it, and pauses for a reply.
+
+Mr. Keepum coolly looks up, and with an insidious leer, says, "There,
+take yourself into the street. When next you enter a gentleman's office,
+learn to deport yourself with good manners."
+
+"Pshaw! pshaw!" interrupts the man. "What mockery! When men like
+you--yes, I say men like you--that has brought ruin on so many poor
+families, can claim to be gentlemen, rogues may get a patent for their
+order." The man turns to take his departure, when the infuriated Keepum,
+who, as we have before described, gets exceedingly put out if any one
+doubts his honor, seizes an iron bar, and stealing up behind, fetches
+him a blow over the head that fells him lifeless to the floor.
+
+Maria shrieks, and vaults into the street. The mass upon the floor
+fetches a last agonizing shrug, and a low moan, and is dead. The
+murderer stands over him, exultant, as the blood streams from the deep
+fracture. In fine, the blood of his victim would seem rather to increase
+his satisfaction at the deed, than excite a regret.
+
+Call you this murder? Truly, the man has outraged God's law. And the
+lover of law and order, of social good, and moral honesty, would find
+reasons for designating the perpetrator an assassin. For has he not
+first distressed a family, and then left it bereft of its protector? You
+may think of it and designate it as you please. Nevertheless we, in our
+fancied mightiness, cannot condescend to such vulgar considerations. We
+esteem it extremely courageous of Mr. Keepum, to defend himself "to the
+death" against the insults of one of the common herd. Our first
+families applaud the act, our sensitive press say it was "an unfortunate
+affair," and by way of admonition, add that it were better working
+people be more careful how they approach gentlemen. Mr. Snivel will call
+this, the sublime quality of our chivalry. What say the jury of inquest?
+
+Duly weighing the high position of Mr. Keepum, and the very low
+condition of the deceased, the good-natured jury return a verdict that
+the man met his death in consequence of an accidental blow, administered
+with an iron instrument, in the hands of one Keepum. From the
+testimony--Keepum's clerk--it is believed the act was committed in
+self-defence.
+
+Mr. Keepum, as is customary with our fine gentlemen, and like a hero (we
+will not content ourselves with making him one jot less), magnanimously
+surrenders himself to the authorities. The majesty of our laws is not
+easily offended by gentlemen of standing. Only the poor and the helpless
+slave can call forth the terrible majesty of the law, and quicken to
+action its sensitive quality. The city is shocked that Mr. Keepum is
+subjected to a night in jail, notwithstanding he has the jailer's best
+parlor, and a barricade of champaign bottles are strewn at his feet by
+flattering friends, who make night jubilant with their carousal.
+
+Southern society asks no repentance of him whose hands reek with the
+blood of his poor victim; southern society has no pittance for that
+family Keepum has made lick the dust in tears and sorrow. Even while we
+write--while the corpse of the murdered man, followed by a few brother
+craftsmen, is being borne to its last resting-place, the perpetrator,
+released on a paltry bail, is being regaled at a festive board. Such is
+our civilization! How had the case stood with a poor man! Could he have
+stood up against the chivalry of South Carolina, scoffed at the law, or
+bid good-natured justice close her eyes? No. He had been dragged to a
+close cell, and long months had passed ere the tardy movements of the
+law reached his case. Even then, popular opinion would have turned upon
+him, pre-judged him, and held him up as dangerous to the peace of the
+people. Yes, pliant justice would have affected great virtue, and
+getting on her high throne, never ceased her demands until he had
+expiated his crime at the gallows.
+
+A few weeks pass: Keepum's reputation for courage is fully endorsed, the
+Attorney-General finds nothing in the act to justify him in bringing it
+before a Grand Jury, the law is satisfied (or ought to be satisfied),
+and the rich murderer sleeps without a pang of remorse.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLII.
+
+IN WHICH SOME LIGHT IS THROWN ON THE PLOT OF THIS HISTORY.
+
+
+June, July, and August are past away, and September, with all its
+autumnal beauties, ushers in, without bringing anything to lighten the
+cares of that girl whose father yet pines in prison. She looks forward,
+hoping against hope, to the return of her lover (something tells her he
+still lives), only to feel more keenly the pangs of hope deferred.
+
+And now, once more, New York, we are in thy busy streets. It is a
+pleasant evening in early September. The soft rays of an autumn sun are
+tinging the western sky, and night is fast drawing her sable mantle over
+the scene. In Washington Square, near where the tiny fountain jets its
+stream into a round, grassy-bordered basin, there sits a man of middle
+stature, apparently in deep study. His dress is plain, and might be
+taken for that of either a working man, or a somewhat faded inspector of
+customs. Heedless of those passing to and fro, he sits until night
+fairly sets in, then rises, and faces towards the East. Through the
+trunks of trees he sees, and seems contemplating the gray walls of the
+University, and the bold, sombre front of the very aristocratic church
+of the Reformed Dutch.
+
+"Well!" he mutters to himself, resuming his seat, and again facing to
+the west, "this ere business of ourn is a great book of life--'tis that!
+Finds us in queer places; now and then mixed up curiously." He rises a
+second time, advances to a gas-light, draws a letter from his pocket,
+and scans, with an air of evident satisfaction, over the contents.
+"Umph!" he resumes, and shrugs his shoulders, "I was right on the
+address--ought to have known it without looking." Having resumed his
+seat, he returns the letter to his pocket, sits with his elbow upon his
+knee, and his head rested thoughtfully in his right hand. The picture
+before him, so calm and soft, has no attractions for him. The dusky hues
+of night, for slowly the scene darkens, seem lending a softness and
+calmness to the foliage. The weeping branches of the willow,
+interspersed here and there, as if to invest the picture with a touching
+melancholy, sway gently to and fro; the leaves of the silvery poplar
+tremble and reflect their shadows on the fresh waters; and the flitting
+gas-lights mingle their gleams, play and sport over the rippled surface,
+coquet with the tripping star-beams, then throw fantastic lights over
+the swaying foliage; and from beneath the massive branches of trees,
+there shines out, in bold relief, the marble porticoes and lintels of
+stately-looking mansions. Such is the calm grandeur of the scene, that
+one could imagine some Thalia investing it with a poetic charm the gods
+might muse over.
+
+"It is not quite time yet," says the man, starting suddenly to his feet.
+He again approaches a gas-light, looks attentively at his watch, then
+saunters to the corner of Fourth and Thompson streets. An old,
+dilapidated wooden building, which some friend has whitewashed into
+respectability, and looking as if it had a strong inclination to tumble
+either upon the sidewalk, or against the great trunk of a hoary-headed
+tree at the corner, arrests his attention. "Well," he says, having
+paused before it, and scanned its crooked front, "this surely is the
+house where the woman lived when she was given the child. Practice, and
+putting two things together to find what one means, is the great thing
+in our profession. Like its old tenant, the house has got down a deal.
+It's on its last legs." Again he consults his watch, and with a
+quickened step recrosses the Square, and enters ---- Avenue. Now he
+halts before a spacious mansion, the front of which is high and bold,
+and deep, and of brown freestone. The fluted columns; the
+elegantly-chiselled lintels; the broad, scrolled window-frames; the
+exactly-moulded arches; the massive steps leading to the deep, vaulted
+entrance, with its doors of sombre and highly-polished walnut; and its
+bold style of architecture, so grand in its outlines,--all invest it
+with a regal air. The man casts a glance along the broad avenue, then
+into the sombre entrance of the mansion. Now he seems questioning within
+himself whether to enter or retrace his steps. One-half of the outer
+door, which is in the Italian style, with heavy fluted mouldings, stands
+ajar; while from out the lace curtains of the inner, there steals a
+faint light. The man rests his elbow on the great stone scroll of the
+guard-rail, and here we leave him for a few moments.
+
+The mansion, it may be well to add here, remains closed the greater part
+of the year; and when opened seems visited by few persons, and those not
+of the very highest standing in society. A broken-down politician, a
+seedy hanger-on of some "literary club," presided over by a rich, but
+very stupid tailor, and now and then a lady about whose skirts something
+not exactly straight hangs, and who has been elbowed out of fashionable
+society for her too ardent love of opera-singers, and handsome actors,
+may be seen dodging in now and then. Otherwise, the mansion would seem
+very generally deserted by the neighborhood.
+
+Everybody will tell you, and everybody is an individual so extremely
+busy in other people's affairs, that he ought to know, that there is
+something that hangs so like a rain-cloud about the magnificent skirts
+of those who live so secluded "in that fine old pile," (mansion,) that
+the virtuous satin of the Avenue never can be got to "mix in." Indeed,
+the Avenue generally seems to have set its face against those who reside
+in it. They enjoy none of those very grand assemblies, balls, and
+receptions, for which the Avenue is become celebrated, and yet they
+luxuriate in wealth and splendor.
+
+Though the head of the house seems banished by society, society makes
+her the subject of many evil reports and mysterious whisperings. The
+lady of the mansion, however, as if to retort upon her traducers, makes
+it known that she is very popular abroad, every now and then during her
+absence honoring them with mysterious clippings from foreign
+journals--all setting forth the admiration her appearance called forth
+at a grand reception given by the Earl and Countess of ----.
+
+Society is made of inexorable metal, she thinks, for the prejudices of
+the neighborhood have not relaxed one iota with time. That she has been
+presented to kings, queens, and emperors; that she has enjoyed the
+hospitalities of foreign embassies; that she has (and she makes no
+little ado that she has) shone in the assemblies of prime ministers;
+that she has been invited to court concerts, and been the flattered of
+no end of fashionable _coteries_, serves her nothing at home. They are
+events, it must be admitted, much discussed, much wondered at, much
+regretted by those who wind themselves up in a robe of stern morality.
+In a few instances they are lamented, lest the morals and manners of
+those who make it a point to represent us abroad should reflect only the
+brown side of our society.
+
+As if with regained confidence, the man, whom we left at the door
+scroll, is seen slowly ascending the broad steps. He enters the vaulted
+vestibule, and having touched the great, silver bell-knob of the inner
+door, stands listening to the tinkling chimes within. A pause of several
+minutes, and the door swings cautiously open. There stands before him
+the broad figure of a fussy servant man, wedged into a livery quite like
+that worn by the servants of an English tallow-chandler, but which, it
+must be said, and said to be regretted, is much in fashion with our
+aristocracy, who, in consequence of its brightness, believe it the exact
+style of some celebrated lord. The servant receives a card from the
+visitor, and with a bow, inquires if he will wait an answer.
+
+"I will wait the lady's pleasure--I came by appointment," returns the
+man. And as the servant disappears up the hall, he takes a seat,
+uninvited, upon a large settee, in carved walnut. "Something mysterious
+about this whole affair!" he muses, scanning along the spacious hall,
+into the conservatory of statuary and rare plants, seen opening away at
+the extreme end. The high, vaulted roof; the bright, tesselated floor;
+the taste with which the frescoes decorating the walls are designed;
+the great winding stairs, so richly carpeted--all enhanced in beauty by
+the soft light reflected upon them from a massive chandelier of stained
+glass, inspire him with a feeling of awe. The stillness, and the air of
+grandeur pervading each object that meets his eye, reminds him of the
+halls of those mediaeval castles he has read of in his youth. The servant
+returns, and makes his bow. "My leady," he says, in a strong
+Lincolnshire brogue, "'as weated ye an 'our or more."
+
+The visitor, evincing some nervousness, rises quickly to his feet,
+follows the servant up the hall, and is ushered into a parlor of regal
+dimensions, on the right. His eye falls upon one solitary occupant, who
+rises from a lounge of oriental richness, and advances towards him with
+an air of familiarity their conditions seem not to warrant. Having
+greeted the visitor, and bid him be seated (he takes his seat, shyly,
+beside the door), the lady resumes her seat in a magnificent chair. For
+a moment the visitor scans over the great parlor, as if moved by the
+taste and elegance of everything that meets his eye. The hand of art has
+indeed been lavishly laid on the decorations of this chamber, which
+presents a scene of luxury princes might revel in. And though the soft
+wind of whispering silks seemed lending its aid to make complete the
+enjoyment of the occupant, it might be said, in the words of Crabbe:
+
+   "But oh, what storm was in that mind!"
+
+The person of the lady is in harmony with the splendor of the apartment.
+Rather tall and graceful of figure, her complexion pale, yet soft and
+delicate, her features as fine and regular as ever sculptor chiselled,
+her manner gentle and womanly. In her face, nevertheless, there is an
+expression of thoughtfulness, perhaps melancholy, to which her large,
+earnest black eyes, and finely-arched brows, fringed with dark lashes,
+lend a peculiar charm. While over all there plays a shadow of languor,
+increased perhaps by the tinge of age, or a mind and heart overtaxed
+with cares.
+
+"I received your note, which I hastened to answer. Of course you
+received my answer. I rejoice that you have persevered, and succeeded in
+finding the object I have so long sought. Not hearing from you for so
+many weeks, I had begun to fear she had gone forever," says the lady, in
+a soft, musical voice, raising her white, delicate hand to her cheek,
+which is suffused with blushes.
+
+"I had myself almost given her over, for she disappeared from the
+Points, and no clue could be got of her," returns the man, pausing for a
+moment, then resuming his story. "A week ago yesterday she turned up
+again, and I got wind that she was in a place we call 'Black-beetle
+Hole'--"
+
+"Black-beetle Hole!" ejaculates the lady, whom the reader will have
+discovered is no less a person than Madame Montford. Mr. Detective
+Fitzgerald is the visitor.
+
+"Yes, there's where she's got, and it isn't much of a place, to say the
+best. But when a poor creature has no other place to get a stretch down,
+she stretches down there--"
+
+"Proceed to how you found her, and what you have got from her concerning
+the child," the lady interrupts, with a deep sigh.
+
+"Well," proceeds the detective, "I meets--havin' an eye out all the
+while--Sergeant Dobbs one morning--Dobbs knows every roost in the Points
+better than me!--and says he, 'Fitzgerald, that are woman, that crazy
+woman, you've been in tow of so long, has turned up. There was a row in
+Black-beetle Hole last night. I got a force and descended into the
+place, found it crammed with them half-dead kind of women and men, and
+three thieves, what wanted to have a fuss with the hag that keeps it.
+One on 'em was thrashing the poor crazy woman. They had torn all the
+rags off her back. Hows-ever, if you wants to fish her out, you'd better
+be spry about it--'"
+
+The lady interrupts by saying she will disguise, and with his
+assistance, go bring her from the place--save her! Mr. Fitzgerald begs
+she will take the matter practically. She could not breathe the air of
+the place, he says.
+
+"'Thank you Dobbs,' says I," he resumes, "and when it got a bit dark I
+went incog. to Black-beetle's Hole--"
+
+"And where is this curious place?" she questions, with an air of
+anxiety.
+
+"As to that, Madame--well, you wouldn't know it was lived in, because
+its underground, and one not up to the entrance never would think it led
+to a place where human beings crawled in at night. I don't wonder so
+many of 'em does things what get 'em into the Station, and after that
+treated to a short luxury on the Island. As I was goin' on to say, I got
+myself fortified, started out into the Points, and walked--we take these
+things practically--down and up the east sidewalk, then stopped in front
+of the old rotten house that Black-beetle Hole is under. Then I looks
+down the wet little stone steps, that ain't wide enough for a big man
+to get down, and what lead into the cellar. Some call it Black-beetle
+Hole, and then again some call it the Hole of the Black-beetles. 'Yer
+after no good, Mr. Fitzgerald,' says Mrs. McQuade, whose husband keeps
+the junk-shop over the Hole, putting her malicious face out of the
+window.
+
+"'You're the woman I want, Mrs. McQuade,' says I. 'Don't be puttin' your
+foot in the house,' says she. And when I got her temper a little down by
+telling her I only wanted to know who lived in the Hole, she swore by
+all the saints it had niver a soul in it, and was hard closed up. Being
+well up to the dodges of the Points folks, I descended the steps, and
+gettin' underground, knocked at the Hole door, and then sent it smash
+in. 'Well! who's here?' says I. 'It's me,' says Mrs. Lynch, a knot of an
+old woman, who has kept the Hole for many years, and says she has no
+fear of the devil."
+
+Madame Montford listens with increasing anxiety; Mr. Detective
+Fitzgerald proceeds: "'Get a light here, then;' says I. You couldn't see
+nothing, it was so dark, but you could hear 'em move, and breathe. And
+then the place was so hot and sickly. Had to stand it best way I could.
+There was no standing straight in the dismal place, which was wet and
+nasty under foot, and not more nor twelve by fourteen. The old woman
+said she had only a dozen lodgers in; when she made out to get a light
+for me I found she had twenty-three, tucked away here and there, under
+straw and stuff. Well, it was curious to see 'em (here the detective
+wipes his forehead with his handkerchief) rise up, one after another,
+all round you, you know, like fiends that had been buried for a time,
+then come to life merely to get something to eat."
+
+"And did you find the woman--and was she one of them?"
+
+"That's what I'm comin' at. Well, I caught a sight at the woman; knew
+her at the glance. I got a sight at her one night in the Pit at the
+House of the Nine Nations. 'Here! I wants you,' says I, takin' what
+there was left of her by the arm. She shrieked, and crouched down, and
+begged me not to hurt her, and looked wilder than a tiger at me. And
+then the whole den got into a fright, and young women, and boys, and
+men--they were all huddled together--set up such a screaming. 'Munday!'
+says I, 'you don't go to the Tombs--here! I've got good news for you.'
+This quieted her some, and then I picked her up--she was nearly
+naked--and seeing she wanted scrubbing up, carried her out of the Hole,
+and made her follow me to my house, where we got her into some clothes,
+and seeing that she was got right in her mind, I thought it would be a
+good time to question her."
+
+"If you will hasten the result of your search, it will, my good sir,
+relieve my feelings much!" again interposes the lady, drawing her chair
+nearer the detective.
+
+"'You've had.' I says to her, 'a hard enough time in this world, and now
+here's the man what's going to be a friend to ye--understand that!' says
+I, and she looked at me bewildered. We gave her something to eat, and a
+pledge that no one would harm her, and she tamed down, and began to look
+up a bit. 'Your name wasn't always Munday?' says I, in a way that she
+couldn't tell what I was after. She said she had taken several names,
+but Munday was her right name. Then she corrected herself--she was weak
+and hoarse--and said it was her husband's name. 'You've a good memory,
+Mrs. Munday,' says I; 'now, just think as far back as you can, and tell
+us where you lived as long back as you can think.' She shook her head,
+and began to bury her face in her hands I tried for several minutes, but
+could get nothing more out of her. Then she quickened up, shrieked out
+that she had just got out of the devil's regions, and made a rush for
+the door."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIII.
+
+IN WHICH IS REVEALED THE ONE ERROR THAT BROUGHT SO MUCH SUFFERING UPON
+MANY.
+
+
+Mr. Fitzgerald sees that his last remark is having no very good effect
+on Madame Montford, and hastens to qualify, ere it overcome her. "That,
+I may say, Madame, was not the last of her. My wife and me, seeing how
+her mind was going wrong again, got her in bed for the night, and took
+what care of her we could. Well, you see, she got rational in the
+morning, and, thinking it a chance, I 'plied a heap of kindness to her,
+and got her to tell all she knew of herself. She went on to tell where
+she lived--I followed your directions in questioning her--at the time
+you noted down. She described the house exactly. I have been to it
+to-night; knew it at a sight, from her description. Some few practical
+questions I put to her about the child you wanted to get at, I found
+frightened her so that she kept shut--for fear, I take it, that it was a
+crime she may be punished for at some time. I says, 'You was trusted
+with a child once, wasn't you?' 'The Lord forgive me,' she says, 'I know
+I'm guilty--but I've been punished enough in this world haven't I?' And
+she burst out into tears, and hung down her head, and got into the
+corner, as if wantin' nobody to see her. She only wanted a little good
+care, and a little kindness, to bring her to. This we did as well as we
+could, and made her understand that no one thought of punishing her, but
+wanted to be her friends. Well, the poor wretch began to pick up, as I
+said before, and in three days was such another woman that nobody could
+have told that she was the poor crazy thing that ran about the lanes and
+alleys of the Points. And now, Madame, doing as you bid me, I thought it
+more practical to come to you, knowing you could get of her all you
+wanted. She is made comfortable. Perhaps you wouldn't like to have her
+brought here--I may say I don't think it would be good policy. If you
+would condescend to come to our house, you can see her alone. I hope you
+are satisfied with my services." The detective pauses, and again wipes
+his face.
+
+"My gratitude for your perseverance I can never fully express to you. I
+owe you a debt I never can repay. To-morrow, at ten o'clock, I will meet
+you at your house; and then, if you can leave me alone with her--"
+
+"Certainly, certainly, everything will be at your service, Madame,"
+returns the detective, rising from his seat and thanking the lady, who
+rewards him bountifully from her purse, and bids him good night. The
+servant escorts him to the door, while Madame Montford buries her face
+in her hands, and gives vent to her emotions.
+
+On the morning following, a neatly-caparisoned carriage is seen driving
+to the door of a little brick house in Crosby street. From it Madame
+Montford alights, and passes in at the front door, while in another
+minute it rolls away up the street and is lost to sight. A few moments'
+consultation, and the detective, who has ushered the lady into his
+humbly-furnished little parlor, withdraws to give place to the pale and
+emaciated figure of the woman Munday, who advances with faltering step
+and downcast countenance. "Oh! forgive me, forgive me! have mercy upon
+me! forgive me this crime!" she shrieks. Suddenly she raises her eyes,
+and rushing forward throws herself at Madame Montford's feet, in an
+imploring attitude. Dark and varied fancies crowd confusedly on Madame
+Montford's mind at this moment.
+
+"Nay, nay, my poor sufferer, rather I might ask forgiveness of you." She
+takes the woman by the hand, and, with an air of regained calmness,
+raises her from the floor. With her, the outer life seems preparing the
+inner for what is to come. "But I have long sought you--sought you in
+obedience to the demands of my conscience, which I would the world gave
+me power to purify; and now I have found you, and with you some rest for
+my aching heart. Come, sit down; forget what you have suffered; tell me
+what befell you, and what has become of the child; tell me all, and
+remember that I will provide for you a comfortable home for the rest of
+your life." Madame motions her to a chair, struggling the while to
+suppress her own feelings.
+
+"I loved the child you intrusted to my care; yes, God knows I loved it,
+and watched over it for two years, as carefully as a mother. But I was
+poor, and the brother, in whose hands you intrusted the amount for its
+support (this, the reader must here know, was not a brother, but the
+paramour of Madame Montford), failed, and gave me nothing after the
+first six months. I never saw him, and when I found you had gone
+abroad--" The woman hesitates, and, with weeping eyes and trembling
+voice, again implores forgiveness. "My husband gave himself up to
+drink, lost his situation, and then he got to hating the child, and
+abusing me for taking it, and embarrassing our scanty means of living.
+Night and day, I was harassed and abused, despised and neglected. I was
+discouraged, and gave up in despair. I clung to the child as long as I
+could. I struggled, and struggled, and struggled--" Here the woman
+pauses, and with a submissive look, again hangs down her head and sobs.
+
+"Be calm, be calm," says Madame Montford, drawing nearer to her, and
+making an effort to inspirit her. "Throw off all your fears, forget what
+you have suffered, for I, too, have suffered. And you parted with the
+child?"
+
+"Necessity forced me," pursues the woman, shaking her head. "I saw only
+the street before me on one side, and felt only the cold pinchings of
+poverty on the other. You had gone abroad--"
+
+"It was my intention to have adopted the child as my own when I
+returned," interrupts Madame Montford, still clinging to that flattering
+hope in which the criminal sees a chance of escape.
+
+"And I," resumes the woman, "left the husband who neglected me, and who
+treated me cruelly, and gave myself,--perhaps I was to blame for it,--up
+to one who befriended me. He was the only one who seemed to care for me,
+or to have any sympathy for me. But he, like myself, was poor; and,
+being compelled to flee from our home, and to live in obscurity, where
+my husband could not find me out, the child was an incumbrance I had no
+means of supporting. I parted with her--yes, yes, I parted with her to
+Mother Bridges, who kept a stand at a corner in West street--"
+
+"And then what became of her?" again interposes Madame Montford. The
+woman assumes a sullenness, and it is some time before she can be got to
+proceed.
+
+"My conscience rebuked me," she resumes, as if indifferent about
+answering the question, "for I loved the child as my own; and the friend
+I lived with, and who followed the sea, printed on its right arm two
+hearts and a broken anchor, which remain there now. My husband died of
+the cholera, and the friend I had taken to, and who treated me kindly,
+also died, and I soon found myself an abandoned woman, an outcast--yes,
+ruined forever, and in the streets, leading a life that my own feelings
+revolted at, but from which starvation only seemed the alternative. My
+conscience rebuked me again and again, and something--I cannot tell what
+it was--impelled me with an irresistible force to watch over the
+fortunes of the child I knew must come to the same degraded life
+necessity--perhaps it was my own false step--had forced upon me. I
+watched her a child running neglected about the streets, then I saw her
+sold to Hag Zogbaum, who lived in Pell street; I never lost sight of
+her--no, I never lost sight of her, but fear of criminating myself kept
+me from making myself known to her. When I had got old in vice, and
+years had gone past, and she was on the first step to the vice she had
+been educated to, we shared the same roof. Then she was known as Anna
+Bonard--"
+
+"Anna Bonard!" exclaims Madame Montford. "Then truly it is she who now
+lives in Charleston! There is no longer a doubt. I may seek and claim
+her, and return her to at least a life of comfort."
+
+"There you will find her. Ah, many times have I looked upon her, and
+thought if I could only save her, how happy I could die. I shared the
+same roof with her in Charleston, and when I got sick she was kind to
+me, and watched over me, and was full of gentleness, and wept over her
+condition. She has sighed many a time, and said how she wished she knew
+how she came into the world, to be forced to live despised by the world.
+But I got down, down, down, from one step to another, one step to
+another, as I had gone up from one step to another in the splendor of
+vice, until I found myself, tortured in mind and body, a poor neglected
+wretch in the Charleston Poor-house. In it I was treated worse than a
+slave, left, sick and heart-broken, and uncared-for, to the preying of a
+fever that destroyed my mind. And as if that were not enough, I was
+carried into the dungeons--the 'mad cells,'--and chained. And this
+struck such a feeling of terror into my soul that my reason, as they
+said, was gone forever. But I got word to Anna, and she came to me, and
+gave me clothes and many little things to comfort me, and got me out,
+and gave me money to get back to New York, where I have been ever since,
+haunted from place to place, with scarce a place to lay my head. Surely
+I have suffered. Shall I be forgiven?" Her voice here falters, she
+becomes weak, and seems sinking under the burden of her emotions.
+"If,--if--if," she mutters, incoherently, "you can save me, and forgive
+me, you will have the prayers of one who has drank deep of the bitter
+cup." She looks up with a sad, melancholy countenance, again implores
+forgiveness, and bursts into loud sobs.
+
+"Mine is the guilty part--it is me who needs forgiveness!" speaks Madame
+Montford, pressing the hand of the forlorn woman, as the tears stream
+down her cheeks. She has unburdened her emotions, but such is the
+irresistible power of a guilty conscience that she finds her crushed
+heart and smitten frame sinking under the shock--that she feels the very
+fever of remorse mounting to her brain.
+
+"Be calm, be calm--for you have suffered, wandered through the dark
+abyss--truly you have been chastened enough in this world. But while
+your heart is only bruised and sore, mine is stung deep and lacerated.
+The image of that child now rises up before me. I see her looking back
+over her chequered life, and pining to know her birthright. Mine is the
+task of seeking her out, reconciling her, saving her from this life of
+shame. I must sacrifice the secrets of my own heart, go boldly in
+pursuit of her--" She pauses a moment. There is yet a thin veil between
+her and society. Society only founds its suspicions upon the mystery
+involved in the separation from her husband, and the doubtful character
+of her long residence in Europe. Society knows nothing of the birth of
+the child. The scandal leveled at her in Charleston, was only the result
+of her own indiscretion. "Yes," she whispers, attempting at the same
+time to soothe the feelings of the poor disconsolate woman, "I must go,
+and go quickly--I must drag her from the terrible life she is
+leading;--but, ah! I must do it so as to shield myself. Yes, I must
+shield myself!" And she puts into the woman's hand several pieces of
+gold, saying: "take this!--to-morrow you will be better provided for. Be
+silent. Speak to no one of what has passed between us, nor make the
+acquaintance of any one outside the home I shall provide for you." Thus
+saying, she recalls Mr. Detective Fitzgerald, rewards him with a nostrum
+from her purse, and charges him to make the woman comfortable at her
+expense.
+
+"Her mind, now I do believe," says the detective, with an approving
+toss of the head, "her faculties'll come right again,--they only wants a
+little care and kindness, mum." The detective thanks her again and
+again, then puts the money methodically into his pocket.
+
+The carriage having returned, Madame Montford vaults into it as quickly
+as she alighted, and is rolled away to her mansion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIV.
+
+IN WHICH IS RECORDED EVENTS THE READER MAY NOT HAVE EXPECTED.
+
+
+While the events we have recorded in the foregoing chapter, confused,
+hurried, and curious, are being enacted in New York, let us once more
+turn to Charleston.
+
+You must know that, notwithstanding our high state of civilization, we
+yet maintain in practice two of the most loathsome relics of
+barbarism--we lash helpless women, and we scourge, at the public
+whipping-post, the bare backs of men.
+
+George Mullholland has twice been dragged to the whipping-post, twice
+stripped before a crowd in the market-place, twice lashed, maddened to
+desperation, and twice degraded in the eyes of the very negroes we teach
+to yield entire submission to the white man, however humble his grade.
+Hate, scorn, remorse--every dark passion his nature can summon--rises up
+in one torturing tempest, and fills his bosom with a mad longing for
+revenge. "Death!" he says, while looking out from his cell upon the
+bright landscape without, "what is death to me? The burnings of an
+outraged soul subdue the thought of death."
+
+The woman through whom this dread finale was brought upon him, and who
+now repines, unable to shake off the smarts old associations crowd upon
+her heart, has a second and third time crept noiselessly to his cell,
+and sought in vain his forgiveness. Yea, she has opened the door gently,
+but drew back in terror before his dark frown, his sardonic scorn, his
+frenzied rush at her. Had he not loved her fondly, his hate had not
+taken such deep root in his bosom.
+
+Two or three days pass, he has armed himself "to the death," and is
+resolved to make his escape, and seek revenge of his enemies. It is
+evening. Dark festoons of clouds hang over the city, lambent lightning
+plays along the heavens in the south. Now it flashes across the city,
+the dull panorama lights up, the tall, gaunt steeples gleam out, and the
+surface of the Bay flashes out in a phosphoric blaze. Patiently and
+diligently has he filed, and filed, and filed, until he has removed the
+bar that will give egress to his body. The window of his cell overlooks
+the ditch, beyond which is the prison wall. Noiselessly he arranges the
+rope, for he is in the third story, then paces his cell, silent and
+thoughtful. "Must it be?" he questions within himself, "must I stain
+these hands with the blood of the woman I love? Revenge, revenge--I will
+have revenge. I will destroy both of them, for to-morrow I am to be
+dragged a third time to the whipping-post." Now he casts a glance round
+the dark cell, now he pauses at the window, now the lightning courses
+along the high wall, then reflects back the deep ditch. Another moment,
+and he has commenced his descent. Down, down, down, he lowers himself.
+Now he holds on tenaciously, the lightning reflects his dangling figure,
+a prisoner in a lower cell gives the alarm, he hears the watchword of
+his discovery pass from cell to cell, the clashing of the keeper's door
+grates upon his ear like thunder--he has reached the end of his rope,
+and yet hangs suspended in the air. A heavy fall is heard, he has
+reached the ditch, bounds up its side to the wall, seizes a pole, and
+places against it, and, with one vault, is over into the open street.
+Not a moment is to be lost. Uproar and confusion reigns throughout the
+prison, his keepers have taken the alarm, and will soon be on his track,
+pursuing him with ferocious hounds. Burning for revenge, and yet
+bewildered, he sets off at full speed, through back lanes, over fields,
+passing in his course the astonished guardmen. He looks neither to the
+right nor the left, but speeds on toward the grove. Now he reaches the
+bridge that crosses the millpond, pauses for breath, then proceeds on.
+Suddenly a light from the villa Anna occupies flashes out. He has
+crossed the bridge, bounds over the little hedge-grown avenue, through
+the garden, and in another minute stands before her, a pistol pointed at
+her breast, and all the terrible passions of an enraged fiend darkening
+his countenance. Her implorings for mercy bring an old servant rushing
+into the room, the report of a pistol rings out upon the still air,
+shriek after shriek follows, mingled with piercing moans, and
+death-struggles. "Ha, ha!" says the avenger, looking on with a sardonic
+smile upon his face, and a curl of hate upon his lip, "I have taken the
+life to which I gave my own--yes, I have taken it--I have taken it!" And
+she writhes her body, and sets her eyes fixedly upon him, as he hastens
+out of the room.
+
+"Quick! quick!" he says to himself. "There, then! I am pursued!" He
+recrosses the millpond over another bridge, and in his confusion turns a
+short angle into a lane leading to the city. The yelping of dogs, the
+deep, dull tramp of hoofs, the echoing of voices, the ominous baying
+and scenting of blood-hounds--all break upon his ear in one terrible
+chaos. Not a moment is to be lost. The sight at the villa will attract
+the attention of his pursuers, and give him time to make a distance! The
+thought of what he has done, and the terrible death that awaits him,
+crowds upon his mind, and rises up before him like a fierce monster of
+retribution. He rushes at full speed down the lane, vaults across a
+field into the main road, only to find his pursuers close upon him. The
+patrol along the streets have caught the alarm, which he finds spreading
+with lightning-speed. The clank of side-arms, the scenting and baying of
+the hounds, coming louder and louder, nearer and nearer, warns him of
+the approaching danger. A gate at the head of a wharf stands open, the
+hounds are fast gaining upon him, a few jumps more and they will have
+him fast in their ferocious grasp. He rushes through the gate, down the
+wharf, the tumultuous cry of his pursuers striking terror into his very
+heart. Another instant and the hounds are at his feet, he stands on the
+capsill at the end, gives one wild, despairing look into the abyss
+beneath--"I die revenged," he shouts, discharges a pistol into his
+breast, and with one wild plunge, is buried forever in the water
+beneath. The dark stream of an unhappy life has run out. Upon whom does
+the responsibility of this terrible closing rest? In the words of
+Thomson, the avenger left behind him only "Gaunt Beggary, and Scorn,
+with many hell-hounds more."
+
+When the gray dawn of morning streamed in through the windows of the
+little villa, and upon the parlor table, that had so often been adorned
+with caskets and fresh-plucked flowers, there, in their stead, lay the
+lifeless form of the unhappy Anna, her features pale as marble, but
+beautiful even in death. There, rolled in a mystic shroud, calm as a
+sleeper in repose, she lay, watched over by two faithful slaves.
+
+The Judge and Mr. Snivel have found it convenient to make a trip of
+pleasure into the country. And though the affair creates some little
+comment in fashionable society, it would be exceedingly unpopular to pry
+too deeply into the private affairs of men high in office. We are not
+encumbered with scrutinizing morality. Being an "unfortunate woman," the
+law cannot condescend to deal with her case. Indeed, were it brought
+before a judge, and the judge to find himself sitting in judgment upon a
+judge, his feelings would find some means of defrauding his judgment,
+while society would carefully close the shutter of its sanctity.
+
+At high noon there comes a man of the name of Moon, commonly called Mr.
+Moon, the good-natured Coroner. In truth, a better-humored man than Mr.
+Moon cannot be found; and what is more, he has the happiest way in the
+world of disposing of such cases, and getting verdicts of his jury
+exactly suited to circumstances. Mr. Moon never proceeds to business
+without regaling his jury with good brandy and high-flavored cigars. In
+this instance he has bustled about and got together six very solemn and
+seriously-disposed gentlemen, who proceed to deliberate. "A mystery
+hangs over the case," says one. A second shakes his head, and views the
+body as if anxious to get away. A third says, reprovingly, that "such
+cases are coming too frequent." Mr. Moon explains the attendant
+circumstances, and puts a changed face on the whole affair. One juryman
+chalks, and another juryman chalks, and Mr. Moon says, by way of
+bringing the matter to a settled point, "It is a bad ending to a
+wretched life." A solemn stillness ensues, and then follows the verdict.
+The body being identified as that of one Anna Bonard, a woman celebrated
+for her beauty, but of notorious reputation, the jury are of opinion
+(having duly weighed the circumstances) that she came to her melancholy
+death by the hands of one George Mullholland, who was prompted to commit
+the act for some cause to the jury unknown. And the jury, in passing the
+case over to the authorities, recommend that the said Mullholland be
+brought to justice. This done, Mr. Moon orders her burial, and the jury
+hasten home, fully confident of having performed their duty unswerved.
+
+When night came, when all was hushed without, and the silence within was
+broken only by the cricket's chirp, when the lone watcher, the faithful
+old slave, sat beside the cold, shrouded figure, when the dim light of
+the chamber of death seemed mingling with the shadows of departed souls,
+there appeared in the room, like a vision, the tall figure of a female,
+wrapped in a dark mantle. Slowly and noiselessly she stole to the side
+of the deceased, stood motionless and statue-like for several minutes,
+her eyes fixed in mute contemplation on the face of the corpse. The
+watcher looked and started back, still the figure remained motionless.
+Raising her right hand to her chin, pensively, she lifted her eyes
+heavenward, and in that silent appeal, in those dewy tears that
+glistened in her great orbs, in those words that seemed freezing to her
+quivering lips, the fierce struggle waging in that bosom was told. She
+heard the words, "You cannot redeem me now!" knelling in her ears, her
+thoughts flashed back over years of remorse, to the day of her error,
+and she saw rising up as it were before her, like a spectre from the
+tomb, seeking retribution, the image of the child she had sacrificed to
+her vanity. She pressed and pressed the cold hand, so delicate, so like
+her own; she unbared the round, snowy arm, and there beheld the
+imprinted hearts, and the broken anchor! Her pent-up grief then burst
+its bounds, the tears rolled down her cheeks, her lips quivered, her
+hand trembled, and her very blood seemed as ice in her veins. She cast a
+hurried glance round the room, a calm and serene smile seemed lighting
+up the features of the lifeless woman, and she bent over her, and kissed
+and kissed her cold, marble-like brow, and bathed it with her burning
+tears. It was a last sad offering; and having bestowed it, she turned
+slowly away, and disappeared. It was Madame Montford, who came a day too
+late to save the storm-tossed girl, but returned to think of the
+hereafter of her own soul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLV.
+
+ANOTHER SHADE OF THE PICTURE.
+
+
+While the earth of Potter's Field is closing over all that remains of
+Anna Bonard, Maria McArthur may be seen, snatching a moment of rest, as
+it were, seated under the shade of a tree on the Battery, musing, as is
+her wont. The ships sail by cheerily, there is a touching beauty about
+the landscape before her, all nature seems glad. Even the heavens smile
+serenely; and a genial warmth breathes through the soft air. "Truly the
+Allwise," she says within herself, "will be my protector, and is
+chastising me while consecrating something to my good. Mr. Keepum has
+made my father's release the condition of my ruin. But he is but flesh
+and blood, and I--no, I am not yet a slave! The virtue of the poor,
+truly, doth hang by tender threads; but I am resolved to die struggling
+to preserve it." And a light, as of some future joy, rises up in her
+fancy, and gives her new strength.
+
+The German family have removed from the house in which she occupies a
+room, and in its place are come two women of doubtful character. Still,
+necessity compels her to remain in it; for though it is a means resorted
+to by Keepum to effect his purpose, she cannot remove without being
+followed, and harassed by him. Strong in the consciousness of her own
+purity, and doubly incensed at the proof of what extremes the designer
+will condescend to, she nerves herself for the struggle she sees before
+her. True, she was under the same roof with them; she was subjected to
+many inconveniencies by their presence; but not all their flattering
+inducements could change her resolution. Nevertheless, the resolution of
+a helpless female does not protect her from the insults of heartless
+men. She returns home to find that Mother Rumor, with her thousand
+tongues, is circulating all kinds of evil reports about her. It is even
+asserted that she has become an abandoned woman, and is the occupant of
+a house of doubtful repute. And this, instead of enlisting the
+sympathies of some kind heart, rather increases the prejudice and
+coldness of those upon whom she has depended for work. It is seldom the
+story of suffering innocence finds listeners. The sufferer is too
+frequently required to qualify in crime, before she becomes an object of
+sympathy.
+
+She returns, one day, some work just finished for one of our high old
+families, the lady of which makes it a boast that she is always engaged
+in "laudable pursuits of a humane kind." The lady sends her servant to
+the door with the pittance due, and begs to say she is sorry to hear of
+the life Miss McArthur is leading, and requests she will not show
+herself at the house again. Mortified in her feelings, Maria begs an
+interview; but the servant soon returns an answer that her Missus cannot
+descend to anything of the kind. Our high old families despise working
+people, and wall themselves up against the poor, whose virtue they
+regard as an exceedingly cheap commodity. Our high old families choose
+rather to charge guilt, and deny the right to prove innocence.
+
+With the four shillings, Maria, weeping, turns from the door, procures
+some bread and coffee, and wends her way to the old prison. But the
+chords of her resolution are shaken, the cold repulse has gone like
+poison to her heart. The ray of joy that was lighting up her future,
+seems passing away; whilst fainter and fainter comes the hope of once
+more greeting her lover. She sees vice pampered by the rich, and poor
+virtue begging at their doors. She sees a price set upon her own ruin;
+she sees men in high places waiting with eager passion the moment when
+the thread of her resolution will give out. The cloud of her night does,
+indeed, seem darkening again.
+
+But she gains the prison, and falters as she enters the cell where the
+old Antiquary, his brow furrowed deep of age, sleeps calmly upon his
+cot. Near his hand, which he has raised over his head, lays a letter,
+with the envelope broken. Maria's quick eye flashes over the
+superscription, and recognizes in it the hand of Tom Swiggs. A transport
+of joy fills her bosom with emotions she has no power to constrain. She
+trembles from head to foot; fancies mingled with joys and fears crowd
+rapidly upon her thoughts. She grasps it with feelings frantic of joy,
+and holds it in her shaking hand; the shock has nigh overcome her. The
+hope in which she has so long found comfort and strength--that has so
+long buoyed her up, and carried her safely through trials, has truly
+been her beacon light. "Truly," she says within herself, "the dawn of my
+morning is brightening now." She opens the envelope, and finds a letter
+enclosed to her. "Oh! yes, yes, yes! it is him--it is from him!" she
+stammers, in the exuberance of her wild joy. And now the words, "You
+are richer than me," flash through her thoughts with revealed
+significance.
+
+Maria grasps the old man's hand. He starts and wakes, as if unconscious
+of his situation, then fixes his eyes upon her with a steady, vacant
+gaze. Then, with childlike fervor, he presses her hand to his lips, and
+kisses it. "It was a pleasant dream--ah! yes, I was dreaming all things
+went so well!" Again a change comes over his countenance, and he glances
+round the room, with a wild and confused look. "Am I yet in
+prison?--well, it was only a dream. If death were like dreaming, I would
+crave it to take me to its peace, that my mind might no longer be
+harassed with the troubles of this life. Ah! there, there!"--(the old
+man starts suddenly, as if a thought has flashed upon him)--"there is
+the letter, and from poor Tom, too! I only broke the envelope. I have
+not opened it."
+
+"It is safe, father; I have it," resumes Maria, holding it before him,
+unopened, as the words tremble upon her lips. One moment she fears it
+may convey bad news, and in the next she is overjoyed with the hope that
+it brings tidings of the safety and return of him for whose welfare she
+breathed many a prayer. Pale and agitated, she hesitates a moment, then
+proceeds to open it.
+
+"Father, father! heaven has shielded me--heaven has shielded me! Ha! ha!
+ha! yes, yes, yes! He is safe! he is safe!" And she breaks out into one
+wild exclamation of joy, presses the letter to her lips, and kisses it,
+and moistens it with her tears, "It was all a plot--a dark plot set for
+my ruin!" she mutters, and sinks back, overcome with her emotions. The
+old man fondles her to his bosom, his white beard flowing over her
+suffused cheeks, and his tears mingling with hers. And here she
+remains, until the anguish of her joy runs out, and her mind resumes its
+wonted calm.
+
+Having broken the spell, she reads the letter to the enraptured old man.
+Tom has arrived in New York; explains the cause of his long absence;
+speaks of several letters he has transmitted by post, (which she never
+received;) and his readiness to proceed to Charleston, by steamer, in a
+few days. His letter is warm with love and constancy; he recurs to old
+associations; he recounts his remembrance of the many kindnesses he
+received at the hands of her father, when homeless; of the care, to
+which he owes his reform, bestowed upon him by herself, and his burning
+anxiety to clasp her to his bosom.
+
+A second thought flashes upon her fevered brain. Am I not the subject of
+slander! Am I not contaminated by associations? Has not society sought
+to clothe me with shame? Truth bends before falsehood, and virtue
+withers under the rust of slandering tongues. Again a storm rises up
+before her, and she feels the poisoned arrow piercing deep into her
+heart. Am I not living under the very roof that will confirm the
+slanders of mine enemies? she asks herself. And the answer rings back in
+confirmation upon her too sensitive ears, and fastens itself in her
+feelings like a reptile with deadly fangs. No; she is not yet free from
+her enemies. They have the power of falsifying her to her lover. The
+thought fills her bosom with sad emotions. Strong in the consciousness
+of her virtue, she feels how weak she is in the walks of the worldly.
+Her persecutors are guilty, but being all-powerful may seek in still
+further damaging her character, a means of shielding themselves from
+merited retribution. It is the natural expedient of bad men in power to
+fasten crime upon the weak they have injured.
+
+Only a few days have to elapse, then, and Maria will be face to face
+with him in whom her fondest hopes have found refuge: but even in those
+few days it will be our duty to show how much injury may be inflicted
+upon the weak by the powerful.
+
+The old Antiquary observes the change that has come so suddenly over
+Maria's feelings, but his entreaties fail to elicit the cause. Shall she
+return to the house made doubtful by its frail occupants; or shall she
+crave the jailer's permission to let her remain and share her father's
+cell? Ah! solicitude for her father settles the question. The
+alternative may increase his apprehensions, and with them his
+sufferings. Night comes on; she kisses him, bids him a fond adieu, and
+with an aching heart returns to the house that has brought so much
+scandal upon her.
+
+On reaching the door she finds the house turned into a bivouac of
+revelry; her own chamber is invaded, and young men and women are making
+night jubilant over Champagne and cigars. Mr. Keepum and the Hon. Mr.
+Snivel are prominent among the carousers; and both are hectic of
+dissipation. Shall she flee back to the prison? Shall she go cast
+herself at the mercy of the keeper? As she is about following the
+thought with the act, she is seized rudely by the arms, dragged into the
+scene of carousal, and made the object of coarse jokes. One insists that
+she must come forward and drink; another holds an effervescing glass to
+her lips; a third says he regards her modesty out of place, and demands
+that she drown it with mellowing drinks. The almost helpless girl
+shrieks, and struggles to free herself from the grasp of her enemies.
+Mr. Snivel, thinking it highly improper that such cries go free,
+catches her in his arms, and places his hand over her mouth. "Caught
+among queer birds at last," he says, throwing an insidious wink at
+Keepum. "Will flock together, eh?"
+
+As if suddenly invested with herculean strength, Maria hurls the ruffian
+from her, and lays him prostrate on the floor. In his fall the table is
+overset, and bottles, decanters and sundry cut glass accompaniments, are
+spread in a confused mass on the floor. Suddenly Mr. Keepum extinguishes
+the lights. This is the signal for a scene of uproar and confusion we
+leave the reader to picture in his imagination. The cry of "murder" is
+followed quickly by the cry of "watch, watch!" and when the guardmen
+appear, which they are not long in doing, it is seen that the very
+chivalric gentlemen have taken themselves off--left, as a prey for the
+guard, only Maria and three frail females.
+
+Cries, entreaties, and explanations, are all useless with such men as
+our guard is composed of. Her clothes are torn, and she is found rioting
+in disreputable company. The sergeant of the guard says, "Being thus
+disagreeably caught, she must abide the penalty. It may teach you how to
+model your morals," he adds; and straightway, at midnight, she is
+dragged to the guard-house, and in spite of her entreaties, locked up in
+a cell with the outcast women. "Will you not hear me? will you not allow
+an innocent woman to speak in her own behalf? Do, I beg, I beseech, I
+implore you--listen but for a minute--render me justice, and save me
+from this last step of shame and disgrace," she appeals to the sergeant,
+as the cell door closes upon her.
+
+Mr. Sergeant Stubble, for such is his name, shakes his head in doubt.
+"Always just so," he says, with a shrug of the shoulders: "every one's
+innocent what comes here 'specially women of your sort. The worst
+rioters 'come the greatest sentimentalists, and repents most when they
+gets locked up--does! You'll find it a righteous place for reflection,
+in there." Mr. Sergeant Stubble shuts the door, and smothers her cries.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVI.
+
+GAINING STRENGTH FROM PERSECUTION.
+
+
+You know it is Bulwer who says, and says truly: "There is in calumny a
+rank poison that, even when the character throws off the slander, the
+heart remains diseased beneath the effect." The force of this on Maria's
+thoughts and feelings, surrounded as she was by the vile influences of a
+Charleston cell, came with strange effect as she contemplated her
+friendless condition. There is one witness who can bear testimony to her
+innocence, and in Him she still puts her trust. But the charitable have
+closed their ears to her; and the outside world is too busy to listen to
+her story. Those words of the poor woman who said, "You are still richer
+than me," again ring their sweet music in her ear, and give strength to
+her weary soul. They come to her like the voice of a merciful
+Providence, speaking through the hushed air of midnight, and breathing
+the sweet spirit of love into the dusky figures who tenant that dreary
+cell. To Maria it is the last spark of hope, that rarely goes out in
+woman's heart, and has come to tell her that to-morrow her star may
+brighten. And now, reader, turn with us to another scene of hope and
+anxiety.
+
+The steamer which bears Tom to Charleston is off Cape Romaine. He has
+already heard of the fate of the old man McArthur. But, he asks himself,
+may not truth and justice yet triumph? He paces and repaces the deck,
+now gazing vacantly in the direction the ship is steering, then walking
+to the stern and watching the long train of phosphoric light playing on
+the toppling waves.
+
+There was something evasive in the manner of the man who communicated to
+him the intelligence concerning McArthur. "May I ask another question of
+you, sir?" he inquires, approaching the man who, like himself, sauntered
+restlessly along the deck.
+
+The man hesitates, lights a fresh cigar. "You desire me to be frank with
+you, of course," rejoins the man. "But I observe you are agitated. I
+will answer your question, if it carry no personal wound. Speak, my
+friend."
+
+"You know Maria?"
+
+"Well."
+
+"You know what has become of her, or where she resides?"
+
+Again the man hesitates--then says, "These are delicate matters to
+discover."
+
+"You are not responsible for my feelings," interrupts the impatient man.
+
+"If, then, I must be plain,--she is leading the life of an outcast. Yes,
+sir, the story is that she has fallen, and from necessity. I will say
+this, though," he adds, by way of relief, "that I know nothing of it
+myself." The words fall like a death-knell on his thoughts and feelings.
+He stammers out a few words, but his tongue refuses to give utterance to
+his thoughts. His whole nature seems changed; his emotions have filled
+the cup of his sorrow; an abyss, deep, dark, and terrible, has opened to
+his excited imagination. All the dark scenes of his life, all the
+struggles he has had to gain his manliness, rise up before him like a
+gloomy panorama, and pointing him back to that goal of dissipation in
+which his mind had once found relief. He seeks his stateroom in
+silence, and there invokes the aid of Him who never refuses to protect
+the right. And here again we must return to another scene.
+
+Morning has come, the guard-roll has been called, and Judge Sleepyhorn
+is about to hold high court. Maria and the companions of her cell are
+arraigned, some black, others white, all before so august a judge. His
+eye rests on a pale and dejected woman inwardly resolved to meet her
+fate, calm and resolute. It is to her the last struggle of an eventful
+life, and she is resolved to meet it with womanly fortitude.
+
+The Judge takes his seat, looks very grave, and condescends to say there
+is a big docket to be disposed of this morning. "Crime seems to increase
+in the city," he says, bowing to Mr. Seargent Stubbs.
+
+"If your Honor will look at that," Mr. Stubbs says, smiling,--"most on
+em's bin up afore. All hard cases, they is."
+
+"If yeer Onher plases, might a woman o' my standin' say a woord in her
+own difince? Sure its only a woord, Judge, an beein a dacent gintleman
+ye'd not refuse me the likes."
+
+"Silence, there!" ejaculates Mr. Seargent Stubbs; "you must keep quiet
+in court."
+
+"Faith its not the likes o' you'd keep me aisy, Mr. Stubbs. Do yee see
+that now?" returns the woman, menacingly. She is a turbulent daughter of
+the Emerald Isle, full five feet nine inches, of broad bare feet, with a
+very black eye, and much in want of raiment.
+
+"The most corrigible case what comes to this court," says Mr. Stubbs,
+bowing knowingly to the judge. "Rather likes a prison, yer Honor. Bin up
+nine times a month. A dear customer to the state."
+
+The Judge, looking grave, and casting his eye learnedly over the pages
+of a ponderous statute book, inquires of Mr. Seargent Stubbs what the
+charge is.
+
+"Disturbed the hole neighborhood. A fight atween the Donahues, yer
+Honor."
+
+"Dorn't believe a woord of it, yeer Onher. Sure, din't Donahue black the
+eye o' me, and sphil the whisky too? Bad luck to Donahue, says I. You
+don't say that to me, says he. I'd say it to the divil, says I. Take
+that! says Donahue." Here Mrs. Donahue points to her eye, and brings
+down even the dignity of the court.
+
+"In order to preserve peace between you and Donahue," says his Honor,
+good naturedly, "I shall fine you ten dollars, or twenty days."
+
+"Let it go at twenty days," replies Mrs. Donahue, complimenting his
+Honor's high character, "fir a divil o' ten dollars have I." And Mrs.
+Donahue resigns herself to the tender mercies of Mr. Seargent Stubbs,
+who removes her out of court.
+
+A dozen or more delinquent negroes, for being out after hours without
+passes, are sentenced thirty stripes apiece, and removed, to the evident
+delight of the Court, who is resolved that the majesty of the law shall
+be maintained.
+
+It is Maria's turn now. Pale and trembling she approaches the circular
+railing, assisted by Mr. Seargent Stubbs. She first looks imploringly at
+the judge, then hangs down her head, and covers her face with her hands.
+
+"What is the charge?" inquires the Judge, turning to the loquacious
+Stubbs. Mr. Stubbs says: "Disorderly conduct--and in a house of bad
+repute."
+
+"I am innocent--I have committed no crime," interrupts the injured
+woman. "You have dragged me here to shame me." Suddenly her face
+becomes pale as marble, her limbs tremble, and the court is thrown into
+a state of confusion by her falling to the floor in a swoon.
+
+"Its all over with her now," says Mr. Stubbs, standing back in fear.
+
+Crime has not dried up all the kinder impulses of Judge Sleepyhorn's
+heart. Leaving the bench he comes quickly to the relief of the
+unfortunate girl, holds her cold trembling hand in his own, and tenderly
+bathes her temples. "Sorry the poor girl," he says, sympathizingly,
+"should have got down so. Knew her poor old father when he was
+comfortably off, and all Charleston liked him." His Honor adjourns
+court, and ten minutes pass before the sufferer is restored to
+consciousness. Then with a wild despairing look she scans those around
+her, rests her head on her hand despondingly, and gives vent to her
+tears. The cup of her sorrow has indeed overrun.
+
+"It was wrong to arrest you, young woman, and I sympathize with you. No
+charge has been preferred, and so you are free. A carriage waits at the
+door, and I have ordered you to be driven home," says the judge,
+relaxing into sympathy.
+
+"I have no home now," she returns, the tears coursing down her wet
+cheeks. "Slaves have homes, but I have none now."
+
+"When you want a friend, you'll find a friend in me. Keep up your
+spirits, and remember that virtue is its own reward." Having said this,
+the Judge raises her gently to her feet, supports her to the carriage,
+and sees her comfortably seated. "Remember, you know, where to find a
+friend if you want one," he says, and bids her good-morning. In another
+minute the carriage is rolling her back to the home from whence she was
+taken. She has no better home now.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLVII.
+
+AN EXCITEMENT.
+
+
+A bright fire burned that night in Keepum's best parlor, furnished with
+all the luxuries modern taste could invent. Keepum, restless, paces the
+carpet, contemplating his own importance, for he has just been made a
+Major of Militia, and we have a rare love for the feather. Now he pauses
+at a window and looks impatiently out, then frisks his fingers through
+his crispy hair and resumes his pacing. He expects some one, whose
+coming he awaits with evident anxiety. "The time is already up," he
+says, drawing his watch from his pocket. The door-bell rings just then,
+his countenance brightens, and a servant ushers Mr. Snivel in. "The time
+is already up, my good fellow," says Keepum, extending his hand
+familiarly,--Mr. Snivel saying, "I've so many demands on my time, you
+know. We're in good time, you know. Must bring the thing to a head
+to-night." A short conversation carried on in whispers, and they sally
+out, and soon disappear down Broad street.
+
+Just rounding the frowning walls of fort Sumter, a fort the restless
+people never had any particular love for, is a big red light of the
+steamer cutting through the sea like a monster of smoke and flame, on
+her way up the harbor. Another hour, and she will be safely moored at
+her landing. Tom stands on the upper deck, looking intently towards the
+city, his anxiety increasing as the ship approaches the end of her
+voyage, and his eager eye catching each familiar object only to remind
+him more forceably of the time when he seemed on the downward road of
+life. Hope had already begun to dispel his fears, and the belief that
+what the man had told him was founded only in slander, became stronger
+the more he pondered over it.
+
+St. Michael's clock has just struck ten, and the mounted guard are
+distributing into their different beats. Maria, contemplating what may
+come to-morrow, sits at the window of her lonely chamber like one whom
+the world had forgotten. The dull vibrating sound of the clock still
+murmurs on the air as she is startled from her reverie by the sound of
+voices under the window. She feels her very soul desponding. It does
+indeed seem as if that moment has come when nature in her last struggle
+with hope must yield up the treasure of woman's life, and sink into a
+life of remorse and shame. The talking becomes more distinct; then there
+is a pause, succeeded by Keepum and Snivel silently entering her room,
+the one drawing a chair by her side, the other taking a seat near the
+door. "Come as friends, you know," says Keepum, exchanging glances with
+Snivel, then fixing his eyes wickedly on the woman. "Don't seem to enjoy
+our company, eh? Poor folks is got to puttin' on airs right big,
+now-a-days. Don't 'mount to much, anyhow; ain't much better than
+niggers, only can't sell 'em." "Poor folks must keep up appearances,
+eh," interposes Mr. Snivel. They are waiting an opportunity for seizing
+and overpowering the unprotected girl. We put our chivalry to strange
+uses at times.
+
+But the steamer has reached her wharf; the roaring of her escaping steam
+disturbs the city, and reechoes far away down the bay. Again familiar
+scenes open to the impatient man's view; old friends pass and repass him
+unrecognized; but only one thought impels him, and that is fixed on
+Maria. He springs ashore, dashes through the crowd of spectators, and
+hurries on, scarcely knowing which way he is going.
+
+At length he pauses on the corner of King and Market streets, and
+glances up to read the name by the glare of gas-light. An old negro
+wends his way homeward. "Daddy," says he, "how long have you lived in
+Charleston?"
+
+"Never was out on em, Mas'r," replies the negro, looking inquisitively
+into the anxious man's face. "Why, lor's me, if dis are bin't Mas'r Tom,
+what used t' be dis old nigger's young Mas'r."
+
+"Is it you, Uncle Cato?" Their recognition was warm, hearty, and true.
+"God bless you, my boy; I've need of your services now," says Tom, still
+holding the hard hand of the old negro firmly grasped in his own, and
+discovering the object of his mission.
+
+"Jus' tote a'ter old Cato, Mas'r Tom. Maria's down da, at Undine's
+cabin, yander. Ain't no better gal libin dan Miss Maria," replies Cato,
+enlarging on Maria's virtues. There is no time to be lost. They hurry
+forward, Tom following the old negro, and turning into a narrow lane to
+the right, leading to Undine's cabin. But here they are doomed to
+disappointment. They reach Undine's cabin, but Maria is not there.
+Undine comes to the door, and points away down the lane, in the
+direction of a bright light. "You will find her dare" says Undine; "and
+if she ain't dare, I don' know where she be." They thank her, repay her
+with a piece of silver, and hurry away in the direction of the light,
+which seems to burn dimmer and dimmer as they approach. It suddenly
+disappears, and, having reached the house, a rickety wooden tenement, a
+cry of "Save me, save me! Heaven save me!" rings out on the still air,
+and falls on the ear of the already excited man, like a solemn warning.
+
+"Up dar! Mas'r Tom, up dar!" shouts Cato, pointing to a stairs leading
+on the outside. Up Tom vaults, and recognizing Maria's voice,
+supplicating for mercy, thunders at the door, which gives away before
+his strength. "It is me, Maria! it is me!" he proclaims. "Who is this
+that has dared to abuse or insult you?" and she runs and throws herself
+into his arms. "A light! a light, bring a light, Cato!" he demands, and
+the old negro hastens to obey.
+
+In the confusion of the movement, Keepum reaches the street in safety
+and hastens to his home, leaving his companion to take care of himself.
+
+A pale gleam of light streams into the open door, discovering a tall
+dusky figure moving noiselessly towards it. "Why, if here bin't Mas'r
+Snivel!" ejaculates old Cato, who returns bearing a candle, the light of
+which falls on the tall figure of Mr. Snivel.
+
+"What, villain! is it you who has brought all this distress upon a
+friendless girl?"----
+
+"Glad to see you back, Tom. Don't make so much of it, my good
+fellow--only a bit of a lark, you know. 'Pon my honor, there was nothing
+wrong meant. Ready to do you a bit of a good turn, any time," interrupts
+Mr. Snivel, blandly, and extending his hand.
+
+"You! villain, do me a friendly act? Never. You poisoned the mind of my
+mother against me, robbed her of her property, and then sought to
+destroy the happiness and blast forever the reputation of one who is
+dearer to me than a sister. You have lived a miscreant long enough. You
+must die now." Quickly the excited man draws a pistol, the report rings
+sharply on the ear, and the tall figure of Mr. Snivel staggers against
+the door, then falls to the ground,--dead. His day of reckoning has
+come, and with it a terrible retribution.
+
+"Now Maria, here," says Tom, picking up a packet of letters that had
+dropped from the pocket of the man, as he fell, "is the proof of his
+guilt and my sincerity." They were the letters written by him to Maria,
+and intercepted by Mr. Snivel, through the aid of a clerk in the
+post-office. "He has paid the penalty of his misdeeds, and I have no
+regrets to offer. To-morrow I will give myself up and ask only justice."
+
+Then clasping Maria in his arms he bids old Cato follow him, and
+proceeds with her to a place of safety for the night, as an anxious
+throng gather about the house, eager to know the cause of the shooting.
+"Ah, Mas'r Snivel," says old Cato, pausing to take a last look of the
+prostrate form, "you's did a heap o' badness. Gone now. Nobody'll say he
+care."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XLIX.
+
+ALL'S WELL.
+
+
+Two months have passed since the events recorded in the preceding
+chapter. Tom has been arraigned before a jury of his peers, and
+honorably acquitted, although strong efforts were made to procure a
+conviction, for Mr. Snivel had many friends in Charleston who considered
+his death a loss. But the people said it was a righteous verdict, and
+justified it by their applause.
+
+And now, the dark clouds of sorrow and trial having passed away, the
+happy dawn of a new life is come. How powerfully the truth of the words
+uttered by the woman, Undine, impresses itself on her mind now,--"You
+are still richer than me." It is a bright sunny morning in early April.
+Birds are making the air melodious with their songs; flowers blooming by
+the roadside, are distilling their perfumes; a bright and serene sky,
+tinged in the East with soft, azure clouds, gives a clear, delicate
+outline to the foliage, so luxuriant and brilliant of color, skirting
+the western edge of the harbor, and reflecting itself in the calm,
+glassy water. A soft whispering wind comes fragrant from the west; it
+does indeed seem as if nature were blending her beauties to make the
+harmony perfect.
+
+A grotesque group, chiefly negroes, old and young, may be seen gathered
+about the door of a quaint old personage near the millpond. Their
+curiosity is excited to the highest pitch, and they wait with evident
+impatience the coming of the object that has called them together. Chief
+among the group is old Cato, in his best clothes, consisting of a tall
+drab hat, a faded blue coat, the tail extending nearly to the ground,
+striped pantaloons, a scarlet vest, an extravagant shirt collar, tied at
+the neck with a piece of white cotton, and his bare feet. Cato moves up
+and down, evidently feeling himself an important figure of the event,
+and admonishing his young "brudren," who are much inclined to mischief,
+not a few having perched on the pickets of the parsonage, to keep on
+their best behavior. Then he discourses with great volubility of his
+long acquaintance with Mas'r Tom and Miss Maria.
+
+As if to add another prominent picture to the scene, there appears at
+the door of the parsonage, every few minutes, a magnificently got-up
+negro, portly, grey hair, and venerable, dressed in unsullied black, a
+spotless white cravat, and gloves. This is Uncle Pomp, who considers
+himself an essential part of the parsonage, and is regarded with awe for
+his Bible knowledge by all the colored people of the neighborhood. Pomp
+glances up, then down the street, advances a few steps, admonishes the
+young negroes, and exchanges bows with Cato, whom he regards as quite a
+common brought-up negro compared with himself. Now he disappears, Cato
+remarking to his companions that if he had Pomp's knowledge and learning
+he would not thank anybody to make him a white man.
+
+Presently there is a stir in the group: all eyes are turned up the road,
+and the cry is, "Dare da comes." Two carriages approach at a rapid
+speed, and haul up at the gate, to the evident delight and relief of the
+younger members of the group, who close in and begin scattering sprigs
+of laurel and flowers along the path, as two couple, in bridal dress,
+alight, trip quickly through the garden, and disappear, Pomp bowing
+them into the parsonage. Tom and Maria are the central figures of the
+interesting ceremony about to be performed. Old Cato received a warm
+press of the hand from Tom as he passed, and Cato returned the
+recognition, with "God bress Mas'r Tom." A shadow of disappointment
+deepened in his face as he saw the door closed, and it occurred to him
+that he was not to be a witness of the ceremony. But the door again
+opened, and Pomp relieved his wounded feelings by motioning with his
+finger, and, when Cato had reached the porch, bowing him into the house.
+
+And now we have reached the last scene in the picture. There, kneeling
+before the altar in the parlor of that quaint old parsonage, are the
+happy couple and their companions. The clergyman, in his surplice, reads
+the touching service in a clear and impressive voice, while Pomp, in a
+pair of antique spectacles, ejaculates the responses in a voice peculiar
+to his race. Old Cato, kneeling before a chair near the door, follows
+with a loud--Amen. There is something supremely simple, touching, and
+impressive in the picture. As the closing words of the benediction fall
+from the clergyman's lips, Maria, her pale oval face shadowed with that
+sweetness and gentleness an innocent heart only can reflect, raises her
+eyes upwards as if to return thanks to the Giver of all good for his
+mercy and protection. As she did this a ray of light stole in at the
+window and played softly over her features, like a messenger of love
+come to announce a happy future. Just then the cup of her joy became
+full, and tears, like gems of purest water, glistened in her eyes, then
+moistened her pallid cheeks. Truly the woman spoke right when she said,
+
+   "You are still still richer than me."
+
+
+
+
+HOME INSURANCE COMPANY.
+OFFICE, No. 112 & 114 BROADWAY.
+
+
+CASH CAPITAL, ONE MILLION DOLLARS.
+Assets, 1st July, 1860, $1,481,819 27. Liabilities, 1st July, 1860,
+54,068 67.
+
+
+The Home Insurance Company continues to issue against loss or damage
+by FIRE and the dangers of INLAND NAVIGATION AND TRANSPORTATION,
+on terms as favorable as the nature of the risks and the real
+security of the Insured and the Company will warrant.
+
+LOSSES EQUITABLY ADJUSTED AND PROMPTLY PAID.
+
+Charles J. Martin, President.   A.F. Willmarth, Vice-President.
+J. MILTON SMITH, Secretary. JOHN MCGEE, Assistant Secretary.
+
+
+DIRECTORS.
+
+Wm. G. Lambert,                         of A. & A. Lawrence & Co.
+Geo. C. Collins,                        of Sherman, Collins & Co.
+Danford N. Barney,                          of Wells, Fargo & Co.
+Lucius Hopkins,         President of Importers and Traders' Bank.
+Thos. Messenger,                            of T. & H. Messenger.
+Wm. H. Mellen,                           of Claflin, Mellen & Co.
+Chas. J. Martin,                                       President.
+A.F. Willmarth,                                   Vice-President.
+Charles B. Hatch,                             of C.B. Hatch & Co.
+B. Watson Bull,                                of Merrick & Bull.
+Homer Morgan,
+Levi P. Stone,                              of Stone, Starr & Co.
+Jas. Humphrey,                 late of Barney, Humphrey & Butler.
+George Pearce,                             of George Pearce & Co.
+Ward A. Work,                              of Ward A. Work & Son.
+James Low,                     of James Low & Co., of Louisville.
+I.H. Frothingham,             late firm of I.H. Frothingham & Co.
+Charles A. Bulkley,                                 Bulkley & Co.
+Geo. D. Morgan,                              of E.D. Morgan & Co.
+Cephas H. Norton,                             of Norton & Jewett.
+Theo. McNamee,                            of Bowen, McNamee & Co.
+Richard Bigelow,                  of Doan, King & Co., St. Louis.
+Oliver E. Wood,                            of Willard, Wood & Co.
+Alfred S. Barnes,                             A.S. Barnes & Burr.
+George Bliss,                              of Phelps, Bliss & Co.
+Roe Lockwood,                               of R. Lockwood & Son.
+Levi P. Morton,                         of Morton, Grinnell & Co.
+Curtis Noble,                             late of Condit & Noble.
+J.B. Hutchinson,                      of J.C. Howe & Co., Boston.
+Chas. P. Baldwin,                         of Baldwin, Starr & Co.
+Amos T. Dwight,                       of Trowbridge, Dwight & Co.
+H.A. Hurlbut,                             of Swift, Hurlbut & Co.
+Jesse Hoyt,                                   of Jesse Hoyt & Co.
+Wm. Sturgis, Jr.,                          of Sturgis, Shaw & Co.
+John R. Ford,                                  of Ford Rubber Co.
+Sidney Mason,                           late of Mason & Thompson.
+Geo. T. Stedman,         of Stedman, Carlisle & Shaw, Cincinnati.
+Cyrus Yale, Jr.,        of Cyrus Yale, Jr. & Co., of New Orleans.
+Wm. R. Fosdick,                     of Wm. R. & Chas. B. Fosdick.
+David I. Boyd,                    of Boyd, Brother & Co., Albany.
+F.H. Cossitt,              of Cossitt, Hill & Tallmadge, Memphis.
+Lewis Roberts,                                of L. Roberts & Co.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of An Outcast, by F. Colburn Adams
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OUTCAST ***
+
+***** This file should be named 20745.txt or 20745.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/2/0/7/4/20745/
+
+Produced by Graeme Mackreth, Curtis Weyant and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images produced by the Wright
+American Fiction Project.)
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/20745.zip b/20745.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ac990bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/20745.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..349b310
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #20745 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/20745)