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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and
+Other Tales, by Francis A. Durivage
+
+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: The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales
+
+Author: Francis A. Durivage
+
+Release Date: February 3, 2006 [EBook #17669]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THREE BRIDES, LOVE IN A ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Sankar Viswanathan,
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                  THE
+
+                             THREE BRIDES,
+
+                          LOVE IN A COTTAGE,
+
+                                  AND
+
+                              OTHER TALES
+
+                                  BY
+
+                         FRANCIS A. DURIVAGE.
+
+
+
+
+
+                                BOSTON:
+                     SANBORN, CARTER, BAZIN & CO.,
+                           25 & 29 CORNHILL.
+
+
+
+
+
+Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by
+
+F.A. DURIVAGE,
+
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
+Massachusetts.
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+MY MOTHER,
+
+THE FIRST TO ENCOURAGE MY EFFORTS,
+
+AND THE MOST INDULGENT OF MY CRITICS,
+
+THIS VOLUME
+
+IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+The volume here submitted to the public is composed of selections from
+my contributions to the columns of the American press. The stories and
+sketches were written, most of them, in the intervals of relaxation
+from more serious labor and the daily business of life; and they would
+be suffered to disappear in the Lethe that awaits old magazines and
+newspapers, had not their extensive circulation, and the partial
+judgment of friends,--for I must not omit the stereotyped plea of
+scribblers,--flattered me that their collection in a permanent form
+would not prove wholly unacceptable. Some of these articles were
+published anonymously, or under the signature of "The Old 'Un," and
+have enjoyed the honor of adoption by persons having no claim to their
+paternity; and it seems time to call home and assemble these vagabond
+children under the paternal wing.
+
+The materials for the tales were gathered from various sources: some
+are purely imaginative, some authentic, not a few jotted down from
+oral narrative, or derived from the vague remembrance of some old play
+or adventure; but the form at least is my own, and that is about all
+that a professional story-teller, gleaning his matter at random, can
+generally lay claim to.
+
+Some of these sketches were originally published in the Boston "Olive
+Branch," and many in Mr. Gleason's popular papers, the "Flag of Our
+Union," and the "Pictorial Drawing-Room Companion." Others have
+appeared in the "New York Mirror," the "American Monthly Magazine,"
+the New York "Spirit of the Times," the "Symbol," and other magazines
+and papers.
+
+Should their perusal serve to beguile some hours of weariness and
+illness, as their composition has done, I shall feel that my labor has
+not been altogether vain; while the moderate success of this venture
+will stimulate me to attempt something more worthy the attention of
+the public.
+
+FRANCIS A. DURIVAGE.
+
+
+
+
+TABLE OF CONTENTS.
+
+
+THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER.
+
+PHILETUS POTTS.
+
+THE GONDOLIER.
+
+THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS.
+
+THE THREE BRIDES.
+
+CALIFORNIA SPECULATION.
+
+THE FRENCH GUARDSMAN.
+
+PERSONAL SATISFACTION.
+
+THE CASTLE ON THE RHINE.
+
+LOVE IN A COTTAGE.
+
+THE CAREER OF AN ARTIST.
+
+SOUVENIRS OF A RETIRED OYSTERMAN IN ILL HEALTH.
+
+THE NEW YEAR'S STOCKINGS.
+
+THE OBLIGING YOUNG MAN.
+
+EULALIE LASALLE.
+
+THE OLD CITY PUMP.
+
+THE TWO PORTRAITS.
+
+UNCLE OBED.
+
+THE CASKET OF JEWELS.
+
+ACTING CHARADES.
+
+THE GREEN CHAMBER.
+
+HE WASN'T A HORSE JOCKEY.
+
+FUNERAL SHADOWS.
+
+THE LATE ELIAS MUGGS.
+
+THE SOLDIER'S WIFE.
+
+A KISS ON DEMAND.
+
+THE RIFLE SHOT.
+
+THE WATER CURE.
+
+THE COSSACK.
+
+MARRIED FOR MONEY.
+
+THE EMIGRANT SHIP.
+
+THE LAST OF THE STAGE COACHES.
+
+THE SEXTON OF ST. HUBERT'S.
+
+JACK WITHERS.
+
+THE SILVER HAMMER.
+
+THE CHRIST CHURCH CHIMES.
+
+THE POLISH SLAVE.
+
+OBEYING ORDERS.
+
+THE DEACON'S HORSE.
+
+THE CONTRABANDISTA.
+
+THE STAGE-STRUCK GENTLEMAN.
+
+THE DIAMOND STAR.
+
+THE GAME OF CHANCE.
+
+THE SOLDIER'S SON.
+
+TAKING CHARGE OF A LADY.
+
+THE NEW YEAR'S BELLS.
+
+THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW.
+
+
+
+
+THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER.
+
+A LEGEND OF MADRID.
+
+
+Many, many years ago, in those "good old times" so much bepraised by
+antiquaries and the _laudatores temporis acti_,--the good old times,
+that is to say, of the holy office, of those magnificent _autos_ when
+the smell of roasted heretics was as sweet a savor in the nostrils of
+the faithful, as that of Quakers done remarkably brown was to our
+godly Puritan ancestors,--there dwelt in the royal city of Madrid a
+wealthy goldsmith by the name of Antonio Perez, whose family--having
+lost his wife--consisted of a lovely daughter, named Magdalena, and a
+less beautiful but still charming niece, Juanita. The housekeeping and
+the care of the girls were committed to a starched old duenna, Donna
+Margarita, whose vinegar aspect and sharp tongue might well keep at a
+distance the boldest gallants of the court and camp. For the rest,
+some half dozen workmen and servitors, and a couple of stout Asturian
+serving wenches made up the establishment of the wealthy artisan. As
+the chief care of the latter was to accumulate treasure, his family,
+while they were denied no comfort, were debarred from luxury, and,
+perhaps, fared the better from this very frugality of the master. Yet
+in the stable, which occupied a portion of the basement story of his
+residence,--the other half being devoted to the _almacen_, or
+store,--there were a couple of long-tailed Flemish mares, and a
+heavy, lumbering chariot; and in the rear of the house a garden,
+enclosed on three sides with a stone wall, and comprising arbors, a
+fountain, and a choice variety of fruits and flowers.
+
+One evening, the goldsmith's daughter and her cousin sat in their
+apartment, on the second story, peeping out through the closed
+"jalousies," or blinds, into the twilight street, haply on the watch
+for some gallant cavalier, whose horsemanship and costume they might
+admire or criticize. Seeing nothing there, however, to attract their
+attention, they turned to each other.
+
+"Juanita," said the goldsmith's daughter, "I believe I have secured an
+admirer."
+
+"An admirer!" exclaimed the pretty cousin. "If your father and dame
+Margarita didn't keep us cooped here like a pair of pigeons, we should
+have, at least, twenty apiece. But what manner of man is this
+phoenix of yours? Is he tall? Has he black eyes, or blue? Is he
+courtier or soldier?"
+
+"He is tall," replied Magdalena, smiling; "but for his favor, or the
+color of his eyes, or quality, I cannot answer. His face and figure
+shrouded in a cloak, his _sombrero_ pulled down over his eyes, he
+takes up his station against a pillar of the church whenever I go to
+San Ildefonso with my duenna, and watches me till mass is ended. I
+have caught him following our footsteps. But be he gentle or simple,
+fair or dark, I know not."
+
+"A very mysterious character!" cried Juanita, laughing, "like unto the
+bravo of some Italian tale. Jesu Maria!" she exclaimed, springing to
+the window, "what goodly cavalier rides hither? His mantle is of
+three-pile velvet, and he wears golden spurs upon his heels. And with
+what a grace he sits and manages his fiery genet! Pray Heaven your
+suitor be as goodly a cavalier."
+
+Magdalena gazed forth upon the horseman, and her heart silently
+confessed that the praises of her cousin were well bestowed. As the
+cavalier approached the goldsmith's house, he checked the impatient
+speed of his horse, and gazed upward earnestly at the window where the
+young girls sat.
+
+"Magdalena!" cried the mischievous Juanita, "old Margarita is not here
+to document us, and I declare your beauty shall have one chance." As
+she spoke she threw open the blind, and exposed her lovely and
+blushing cousin to the gaze of the cavalier.
+
+Ardently and admiringly he gazed upon her dark and faultless features,
+and then raising his plumed hat, bowed to his very saddle bow, and
+rode on, but turned, ever and anon, till he was lost in the distance
+and gradual darkening of the street.
+
+"Mutual admiration!" cried the gay Juanita, clapping her hands. "Thank
+me for the stratagem. Yon cavalier is, without a doubt, the mysterious
+admirer of San Ildefonso."
+
+Don Julio Montero--for that was the name of the cavalier--returned
+again beneath the casement, and again saw Magdalena. He also made some
+purchases of the old goldsmith, and managed to speak a word with his
+fair daughter in the shop; and in spite of the duenna, billets were
+exchanged between the parties. The very secrecy with which this little
+intrigue was managed, the mystery of it, influenced the imagination of
+Magdalena and increased the violence of her attachment, and loving
+with all the fervor of her meridian nature, she felt that any
+disappointment would be her death.
+
+One evening, as her secret suitor was passing along a narrow and
+unfrequent street, a light touch was laid upon his shoulder, and
+turning, he perceived a tall figure, muffled in a long, dark cloak.
+
+"Senor Montero," said the stranger, "one word with you." And then,
+observing that he hesitated, he threw open his cloak, and added, "Nay,
+senor, suspect not that my purpose is unfriendly; you see I have no
+arms, while you wear both rapier and dagger. I merely wish to say a
+few words on a matter of deep import to yourself."
+
+"Your name, senor," replied the other, "methinks should precede any
+communication you have to make me, would you secure my confidence."
+
+"My name, senor, I cannot disclose."
+
+"Umph! a somewhat strange adventure!" muttered the young cavalier.
+"However, friend, since such you purport to be, say your say, and that
+right briefly, for I have affairs of urgency on my hands."
+
+"Briefly, then, senor. You have cast your eyes on the daughter of
+Antonio Perez, the rich goldsmith?"
+
+"That is my affair, methinks," replied the cavalier, haughtily. "By
+what right do you interfere with it? Are you brother or relative of
+the fair Magdalena?"
+
+"Neither, senor; but I take a deep interest in your affairs; and I
+warn you, if your heart be not irretrievably involved, to withdraw
+from the prosecution of your addresses. To my certain knowledge,
+Magdalena is beloved by another."
+
+"What of that, man? A fair field and no favor, is all I ask."
+
+"But what if _she_ loves another?"
+
+"Ha!" exclaimed the cavalier. "Can she be sporting with me?--playing
+the coquette? But no! I will not believe it, at least upon the say so
+of a stranger. I must have proofs."
+
+"Pray, senor, have you never observed upon the lady's fair arm a
+turquoise bracelet?"
+
+"Yea, have I," replied the cavalier; "by the same token that she has
+promised it to me as a _gage d'amour_."
+
+"Do you recognize the bracelet?" cried the stranger, holding up, as he
+spoke, the ornament in question. "Or, if that convince you not, do you
+recognize this tress of raven hair--this bouquet that she wore upon
+her bosom yesternight?"
+
+"That I gave her myself!" cried the cavalier. "By Heaven! she has
+proved false to me. But I must know," he added, fiercely, "who thou
+art ere thou goest hence. I must have thy secret, if I force it from
+thee at the dagger's point. Who art thou? speak!"
+
+"Prithee, senor, press me not," said the stranger, drawing his cloak
+yet closer about him, and retreating a pace or two.
+
+"Who art thou?" cried the cavalier, menacingly, and striding forward
+as the other receded.
+
+"One whose name breathed in thine ear," replied the other, "would
+curdle thy young blood with horror."
+
+Julio laughed loud and scornfully.
+
+"Now, by Saint Iago! thou art some juggling knave--some impish
+charlatan, who seeks to conceal his imposture in the garb of mystery
+and terror. Little knowest thou the mettle of a Castilian heart. Thy
+name?"
+
+The stranger stooped forward, and whispered a word or two in the ear
+of his companion. The young man recoiled, while his cheek turned from
+the glowing tinge of health and indignation to the hue of ashes; and,
+as he stood, rooted to the spot in terror and dismay, the stranger
+threw the hem of his cloak over his shoulder, and glided away like a
+dark shadow.
+
+Julio's heart was so far enlisted in favor of Magdalena, that it cost
+him a severe struggle to throw her off as utterly unworthy of his
+attachment, but pride came to his rescue, and he performed his task.
+He wrote a letter, in which, assigning no cause for the procedure, he
+calmly, coldly, contemptuously renounced her hand, and told her that
+henceforth, should they meet, it must be as strangers.
+
+This unexpected blow almost paralyzed Magdalena's reason. It was to be
+expected of her temperament that her anguish should be in proportion
+to her former rapture. At first stunned, she roused to the paroxysm of
+wild despair. Henceforth, if she lived, her life, she felt, would be
+an utter blank. Passion completely overmastering her reason, she
+resolved to destroy herself. This fearful resolution adopted, her
+excitement ceased. She became calm--calm as the senseless stone; no
+tremors shook her soul, no remorse, no regret.
+
+She was seated alone, one evening, at that very window whence she had
+first beheld her false suitor, and bitter memories were crowding on
+her brain, when the door of her apartment opened, and closed again
+after admitting her old duenna, Margarita. The old woman approached
+with a stealthy, cat-like step, and sitting down beside the maiden,
+and gazing inquisitively into her dim eyes, said, in a whining voice,
+intended to be very winning and persuasive,--
+
+"What ails my pretty pet? Is she unwell?"
+
+"I am not unwell," replied Magdalena, coldly, rousing herself to the
+exertion of conversing, with an effort.
+
+"Nay, my darling," said the old woman, in the same whining tone, "I am
+sure that something is the matter with you. You look feverish."
+
+"I am well, Margarita; let that suffice."
+
+"And feel no regret for the false suitor, hey?"
+
+Magdalena turned upon her quickly--almost fiercely.
+
+"What do you know of him?"
+
+"All! all!" cried the old woman, while her gray eyes flashed with
+exultation.
+
+"Then you know him for a false and perjured villain!" cried the
+beautiful Spaniard.
+
+"I know him for an honorable cavalier; true as the steel of his Toledo
+blade!" retorted the duenna. "I speak riddles, Magdalena, but I will
+explain myself. Do you think I can forget your insults, jeers, and
+jokes? Do you think I knew not when you mocked me behind my back, or
+sought to trick me before my face? You little knew, when you and your
+gay-faced cousin were making merry at my expense, what wrath you were
+storing up against the day of evil. But I come of a race that never
+forgets or forgives; there is some of the blood of the wild Zingara
+coursing in these shrivelled veins--a love of vengeance, that is
+dearer than the love of life. I watched your love intrigue from the
+very first. I saw that it bade fair to end in happiness. Don Julio was
+wealthy and well born, and his intentions were honorable. After
+indulging your romantic spirit by a secret wooing, he would have
+openly claimed you of your father, and the old man would have been but
+too proud to give his consent. Now came the moment for revenge. I
+traduced you to your lover, making use of an agent who was wholly
+mine. Trifles produce conviction when once the faith of jealous man is
+shaken. A few toys--a turquoise bracelet, a lock of hair, a bunch of
+faded flowers--sufficed to turn the scale; and now, were an angel of
+heaven to pronounce you true, Don Julio would disbelieve the
+testimony. Ha, ha! am I not avenged?"
+
+"And was it," said Magdalena, in a low, pathetic voice,--"was it for
+a few jests,--a little childish chafing against restraint, that you
+wrecked the happiness of a poor young girl,--blighted her hopes, and
+broke her heart? Woman--fiend! dare you tell me this?" she cried,
+kindling into passion with a sudden transition. "Avaunt! begone! Leave
+my sight, you hideous and evil thing! But take with you my bitter
+curse--no empty anathema! but one that will cling to you like the
+garment of flame that wraps the doomed heretic! Begone! accursed
+wretch--hideous in soul as you are abhorrent and repulsive in person."
+
+Cowed, but muttering wrathful words, the stricken wretch hurried out
+of the apartment, into which Juanita instantly rushed.
+
+"Magdalena, what means this?" she cried. "I heard you uttering fearful
+threats against old Margarita. Calm yourself; you are strangely
+excited."
+
+"O Juanita, Juanita!" cried Magdalena, the tears starting from her
+eyes, and wringing her fair hands. "If you knew all--if you knew the
+wrong that woman has done me; but not now--not now; leave me, good
+cousin,--leave me!"
+
+"You are not well, dearest," said Juanita; "take my advice, go to bed
+and repose. To-morrow you will be calm, and to-morrow you shall tell
+me all."
+
+"To-morrow! to-morrow!" muttered Magdalena. "Well, well; to-morrow you
+will find me!"
+
+"Yes; I will waken you, and sit at your bedside, and laugh your griefs
+away. Good night, Magdalena!"
+
+"Farewell, dearest!" said the heart-stricken girl; and Juanita left
+the chamber.
+
+Before a silver crucifix, Magdalena knelt in prayer.
+
+"Father of mercies, blessed Virgin, absolve me of the sin--if sin it
+be to rush unbidden to the presence of my Judge! My burden is too
+great to bear!"
+
+She rose from her knees, took from a cupboard a goblet of Venetian
+glass, and a flask of Xeres wine. Into the goblet she first dropped
+the contents of a paper she took from her bosom, and then filled it to
+the brim with wine. She had already stretched forth her hand to the
+fatal glass, when she heard her name called by her father.
+
+"He would give me a good-night kiss," said the wretched girl. "I must
+receive it with pure lips. I come, dear father,--I come."
+
+Scarcely had she left her chamber when the old duenna again stole into
+the room.
+
+"If I could only find one of the gallant's letters," she muttered to
+herself, "I could arm her father's mind against her; and then if madam
+tried to get me turned away, she would have her labor for her pains.
+What have we here? A flask of Xeres, as I live! So ho, senorita! Is
+this the source of your inspiration when you berate your betters? I
+declare it smells good; the jade is no bad judge of wine!"
+
+As she spoke, the old woman, who had no particular aversion to the
+juice of the grape, hurriedly drank off the contents of the goblet,
+and immediately filled it up again from the flask.
+
+"There! she'll be no wiser," said she, with a cunning leer. "And now I
+must hurry off. I would not have the young baggage find me here for a
+month's wages!"
+
+Margarita effected her retreat just in time. Magdalena returned, after
+having, as she supposed, seen her poor father for the last time.
+
+Had not despair completely overmastered the reason of the poor girl,
+she would have shrunk from the idea of committing suicide. But misery
+had completely, though temporarily, wrecked her intellect. She felt no
+horror, no remorse at the deed she was about to commit. With a steady
+hand she raised the goblet to her lips, and then drank the fatal
+draught, as she supposed it, to the last dregs.
+
+"I must sleep now," she said, with a deep sigh. "I shall never wake
+again." And throwing herself, dressed as she was, upon her couch, she
+soon fell into a deep slumber.
+
+How long her senses were steeped in oblivion, she could not tell. But
+she was awakened by shrill screams, and started to her feet in terror.
+
+"Where am I?" she exclaimed. "Are those the cries of the condemned? Am
+I indeed in another world?"
+
+"But louder and louder came the shrieks, and now she recognized the
+tones as those of the old duenna. Deeply as the woman had wronged her,
+Magdalena's feminine nature could not be insensible to her distress.
+She sprang down the stairway, and now stood by the bedside of the
+duenna, over which Juanita was already bending.
+
+"What _is_ the matter?" she exclaimed.
+
+"The wine! the wine! the flask of Xeres! the Venetian goblet! I am
+poisoned!" cried the old woman, as she writhed in agony.
+
+The truth instantly flashed on the preternaturally-sharpened intellect
+of Magdalena. Her own immunity from pain confirmed the fatal
+supposition.
+
+"Good God!" she cried, in tones of unutterable anguish, "I have killed
+her!"
+
+The exclamation caught the keen ear of the malignant hag, suffering as
+she was. She raised herself up on her elbow, and pointing with her
+skinny finger to the horror-stricken girl, she screamed,--
+
+"Yes, yes; you have murdered me! Send for a leech, a priest, an
+officer of justice! Do not let that wretch escape! She gave me a
+poisoned draught! she knew it--she confesses it! Ha, ha! I shall not
+die unavenged!"
+
+These fearful words caught the ear of Don Antonio, as, having hastily
+dressed himself, he rushed into the room. They caught the ear, too, of
+a curious servitor, who flew to the alguazil before he summoned priest
+and chirurgeon.
+
+In less than an hour afterwards, the old beldam had breathed her last,
+but not before she had made her false deposition to the officer of
+justice; not before she had learned that a paper containing evidence
+of poison had been found in Magdalena's room; not before she had seen
+the hapless girl arrested; and then she died with a lie and a smile of
+hideous triumph on her lips.
+
+We cannot attempt to describe the anguish of the old goldsmith, and
+the despair of Juanita, as they beheld Magdalena torn from their arms
+to be carried before a judge for examination, and thence to be cast
+into prison. Believing in her innocence, and confident that it would
+be established in the eyes of the world, they longed for the dread
+ordeal of the trial. The hour came, but only to crush their hearts
+within them. The guilt was fixed by circumstantial evidence on the
+unfortunate Magdalena. Poor Juanita was forced to testify to the facts
+of a quarrel between her cousin and the hapless duenna, and to violent
+language used by the former to the latter. A paper which had contained
+poison had been found in the apartment of the accused. Her own hasty
+confession of guilt, the dying declaration of the victim added
+
+           "--confirmation strong
+    As proofs of Holy Writ."
+
+Magdalena was condemned to die. In that supreme hour, when her
+protestations of innocence had proved of no avail, the film fell from
+the organs of her mental vision. Knowing herself guilty of
+premeditated suicide, she saw in the established charge of murder a
+dreadful retribution. To make her peace with Heaven in the solitude of
+the prison cell, was now all that she desired. She had proved the
+worthlessness of life, and now she prepared herself to die. But her
+tortures were not ended. Julio, her lost lover, demanded an interview
+with her, and when, after listening to her sad tale, he renewed his
+vows of love, and expressed his firm belief in her innocence, earth
+once more bloomed attractive to her eyes; life became again dear to
+her at the very moment she was condemned to surrender it. Her
+execution was fixed for the next day, at the hour of noon. At that
+hour, she was to take her last look of her father, her cousin, her
+lover--the last look of God's blessed earth.
+
+The morning came. She had passed the night in prayer, and it found her
+firm and resigned. In the heart of a true woman there lies a reserve
+of courage that shames the prouder boast of man. She may not face
+death on the battle-field with the same defying front; but when it
+comes in a more appalling form and scene, she shrinks not from the
+dread ordeal. When man's foot trembles on the scaffold, woman stands
+there serene, unwavering, and self-sustained.
+
+One hour before the appointed time, the door of Magdalena's cell
+opened, and a tall figure, wrapped in a dark cloak, with a slouched
+hat and sable plume, stood before her. It was the same who had gazed
+on her so often in the church of San Ildefonso, the same who had
+encountered Julio in the narrow street with proofs of her alleged
+falsity.
+
+"Is the hour arrived?" asked Magdalena, calmly.
+
+"Nay," replied the stranger, in a deep tone. "Can you not see the
+prison clock through the bars of your cell door? Look; it lacks yet an
+hour of noon."
+
+"Then, sir, you come to announce the arrival of the holy father,--of
+my friends."
+
+"They will be here anon," said the stranger.
+
+"I do not," said Magdalena, in the same calm tone she had before
+employed, "see you now for the first time."
+
+"Beautiful girl!" cried the stranger; "no! I have for months haunted
+you like your shadow. Your fair face threw the first gleams of
+sunshine into my heart that have visited it from early manhood. I love
+you, Magdalena!"
+
+"This is no hour and no place for words like these," replied the
+captive, coldly.
+
+"Nay!" cried the stranger, with sudden energy. "Beautiful girl, I come
+to save you!"
+
+"To save me!" cried Magdalena, a sudden, wild hope springing in her
+breast,"--to save me! It is well done. Believe me, I am innocent. You
+have bribed the jailer to open my prison doors; you have contrived
+some means of evasion. I know not--I care not what. I shall be freed!
+I shall clasp my father's knees once more. I shall go forth into the
+blessed air and light of heaven. God bless you, whoever you are, for
+your words of hope!"
+
+"You shall go forth, if you will," replied the stranger; "but openly,
+in the face and eyes of man. At my word the prison bars will fall, the
+keys will turn, the gates will be unbarred. I have a royal pardon!"
+
+"Give it me! give it me!" almost shrieked Magdalena.
+
+"It is bestowed on one condition: that you become my wife."
+
+"That I become your wife!" repeated Magdalena, as if she but half
+comprehended the words. "Forsake poor Julio! And yet the bribe, to
+escape a death of infamy, to save my father's gray hairs from going
+down to a dishonored grave! Speak! who are you, with power to save me
+on these terms?"
+
+The stranger tossed aside his sable hat and plume, and dropped his
+cloak, and stood before her in a rich dress of black velvet, trimmed
+with point lace, a broadsword belted to his waist. He was a man of
+middle age, of a fine, athletic figure, and handsome face, but there
+was an indescribable expression in his dark eyes, in the stern lines
+about his handsome mouth, that affected the gazer with a strange,
+shuddering horror.
+
+"Peruse me well, maiden," said the stranger. "I am not deformed. I am
+as other men. If there be no glow in my cheek, still the blood that
+flows through my veins is healthy and untainted. Moreover, though I be
+not noble, my character is stainless. If to be the wife of an honest
+man is not too dear a purchase for your life, accept my hand, and you
+are saved."
+
+"Who are you?" cried Magdalena, intense curiosity mastering her even
+in that moment.
+
+"I am the executioner of Madrid!" replied the stranger.
+
+Magdalena covered her face with her hands, and uttered a low cry of
+horror.
+
+"I am the executioner of Madrid!" repeated he. "I have never committed
+crime in my life, though my blade has been reddened with the blood of
+my fellow-creatures. Yet no man takes my hand,--no man breaks bread or
+drinks wine with me. I, the dread minister of justice, a necessity of
+society, like the soldier on the rampart, or the priest at the altar,
+am a being lonely, abhorred, accursed. Yet I have the feelings, the
+passions of other men. But what maiden would listen to the suit of
+one like me? What father would give his daughter to my arms? None,
+none! And, therefore, the state decrees that when the executioner
+would wed, he must take to his arms a woman doomed to death. I loved
+you, Magdalena, hopelessly, ere I dreamed the hour would ever arrive
+when I might hope to claim you. That hour has now come. I offer you
+your life and my hand. You must be my bride, or my victim!"
+
+"Your victim! your victim!" cried Magdalena. "Death a thousand times,
+though a thousand times undeserved, rather than your foul embrace!"
+
+"You have chosen. Your blood be on your own head!" cried the
+executioner, stamping his foot. "You die unshriven and unblessed!"
+
+"At least, abhorred ruffian," cried Magdalena, "I have some little
+time for preparation! The hour has not yet arrived."
+
+"Has it not?" cried the executioner. "Behold yon clock!"
+
+And as her eyes were strained upon the dial, he strode out of the
+cell, and seizing the hands, advanced them to the hour of noon. Then,
+at a signal from his hand, the prison bell began to toll.
+
+"Mercy; mercy!" cried Magdalena, as he rejoined her. "Slay me not
+before my time!"
+
+But the hand of the ruffian already grasped her arm, and he dragged
+her forth into the corridor.
+
+At that moment, however, a loud shout arose, and a group of officials,
+escorting the goldsmith and Julio, waving a paper in his hand, rushed
+breathlessly along the passage.
+
+"Saved, saved!" cried Magdalena. "Hither, hither, father, Julio!"
+
+The executioner had wreathed his hand in her dark, flowing tresses;
+already his dreadful weapon was brandished in the air, when it was
+crossed by the bright Toledo blade of the young cavalier, and flew
+from his grasp, clanging against the prison wall.
+
+"Unhand her, dog!" cried Julio, "or die the death!"
+
+Sullenly the executioner released his hold, and sullenly listened to
+the royal pardon.
+
+Magdalena was soon beneath her father's roof,--soon in the arms of her
+cousin Juanita. Long did she resist the importunities of Julio; for
+though innocent in fact, judicially she stood convicted of a capital
+offence. But as time rolled on,--as her innocence became the popular
+belief,--she finally relented, accepted his hand, and beneath the
+beautiful sky of Italy, forgot, or remembered only as a dream, the
+perils and sorrows of her early life.
+
+
+
+
+PHILETUS POTTS.
+
+A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.
+
+
+Philetus Potts is dead. Like Grimes, he was a "good old man!" A true
+gentleman of the old school, he clung to many of the fashions of a
+by-gone period with a pertinacity, which, to the eyes of the
+thoughtless, savored somewhat of the ludicrous. It was only of late
+years that he relinquished his three-cornered hat; to breeches,
+buckles, and hair powder he adhered to the last. He was also partial
+to pigtails, though his earliest was shorn from his head by a
+dangerous rival, who cut him out of the good graces of Miss Polly
+Martine, a powdered beauty of the past century, by amputating his cue;
+while his latest one was sacrificed on the altar of humanity--but
+thereby hangs a tale.
+
+If Mr. Potts was behind his age in dress, he was in advance of it in
+sentiment. In his breast the milk of human kindness never curdled, and
+his intelligent mind was ever actively employed in devising ways and
+means to alleviate the sufferings of humanity, and to change the
+hearts of evil doers. His comprehensive kindness included the brute
+creation as well as mankind, in the circle of his active sympathy.
+
+We remember an instance of his sympathy for animals. We had been
+making an excursion into the country. It was high noon of a sultry
+summer day; eggs were cooking in the sun, and the mercury in the
+thermometer stood at the top of the tube. Passing out of a small
+village, we passed a young lady pleasantly and coolly attired in
+white, and carrying a sunshade whose grateful shadow melted into the
+cool, clear olive of her fine complexion.
+
+Mr. Potts sighed, for she reminded him of Miss Polly Martine at the
+same age; and Polly Martine reminded him of parasols by some recondite
+association. Mr. Potts remembered the first umbrella that was brought
+into Boston. He always carried one that might have been the first, it
+was so venerable, yet whole and decent, like an old gentleman in good
+preservation. It was a green silk one, with a plain, mahogany handle,
+and a ring instead of a ferrule, and very large. Discoursing of
+umbrellas, we came upon a cow. Mr. Potts was fond of cows--grateful to
+them--always spoke of them with respect. This particular cow inhabited
+a small paddock by the roadside, which was enclosed by a Virginia
+fence, and contained very little grass, and no provision for shade and
+shelter. So the cow stood in the sunshine, with her head resting on
+the fence, and her tongue lolling out of her mouth, and her large,
+intelligent eyes fixed on the far distance, where a herd of kine were
+feasting knee-deep in a field of clover, beside a running brook,
+overshadowed by magnificent walnut trees.
+
+"Poor thing!" said Mr. Potts; and he stopped short and looked at the
+cow.
+
+The cow looked at Mr. Potts. One had evidently magnetically influenced
+the other.
+
+"She is a female, like the lady we encountered," said Mr. Potts,
+"but," added he, with a burst of feeling, "she has no parasol!"
+
+The assertion was indisputable. It was a truism, cows are never
+provided with parasols,--but then great men are famous for uttering
+truisms, and we venerated Mr. Potts for following the example.
+
+"It is now twelve o'clock!" said Mr. Potts, consulting his repeater.
+"At half past four, the shadow of the buttonwood will fall into this
+poor animal's pasture. Four hours and a half of torture, rendered more
+painful by the contemplation of the luxuries of her remote companions!
+It is insufferable!"
+
+Then Mr. Potts, with a genial smile on his Pickwickian countenance,
+expanded his green silk umbrella, mounted the fence, on which he sat
+astride, and patiently held the umbrella over the cow's head for the
+space of four and a half mortal hours. The action was sublime. I
+regret to add that the animal proved ungrateful, and, when Mr. Potts
+closed his umbrella on the shadow of the buttonwood relieving guard,
+facilitated his descent from the Virginia fence by an ungraceful
+application of her horns to the amplitude of his venerable person.
+
+It was in the summer following, that the incident I am about to relate
+occurred. It was fly-time,--I remember it well. We were again walking
+together, when we came to a wall-eyed horse, harnessed to a dog's meat
+cart, and left standing by his unfeeling master while he indulged in
+porter and pipes in a small suburban pothouse, much affected by
+Milesians. The horse was much annoyed by flies, and testified his
+impatience and suffering by stamping and tossing his head. Mr. Potts
+was the first to notice that the poor animal had no tail,--for the two
+or three vertebrę attached to the termination of the spine could
+hardly be supposed to constitute a tail proper. The discovery filled
+him with horror. A horse in fly-time without a tail! The case was
+worse than that of the cow.
+
+"And here I am!" exclaimed the great and good man, in a tone of the
+bitterest self-reproach, "luxuriating in a pigtail which that poor
+creature would be glad of!"
+
+With these words he produced a penknife, and placing it in my hands,
+resolutely bade me amputate his cue. I did so with tears in my eyes,
+and placed the severed ornament in the hands of my companion. With a
+piece of tape he affixed it to the horse's stump, and the gush of
+satisfaction he felt at seeing the first fly despatched by the
+ingenious but costly substitute for a tail, must have been, I think,
+an adequate recompense for the sacrifice.
+
+I think it was in that same summer that Mr. Potts laid before the
+Philanthropic and Humane Society, of which he was an honorable and
+honorary member, his "plan for the amelioration of the condition of
+no-tailed horses in fly-time, by the substitution of feather dusters
+for the natural appendage, to which are added some hints on the
+grafting of tails with artificial scions, by a retired farrier in ill
+health."
+
+During the last year of his life, Mr. Potts offered a prize of five
+thousand dollars for the discovery of a harmless and indelible white
+paint, to be used in changing the complexion of the colored
+population, to place them on an equality with ourselves, or for any
+chemical process which would produce the same result.
+
+Mr. Potts proposed to substitute for capital punishment, houses of
+seclusion for murderers, where, remote from the world, in rural
+retreats, they might converse with nature, and in the cultivation of
+the earth, or the pursuit of botany, might become gradually softened
+and humanized. At the expiration of a few months' probation, he
+proposed to restore them to society.
+
+A criminal is an erring brother. The object of punishment is
+reformation, and not vengeance. Hence, Mr. Potts proposed to supply
+our prisoners with teachers of languages, arts and sciences, dancing
+and gymnastics. Every prison should have, he contended, a billiard
+room and bowling saloon, a hairdresser, and a French cook.
+Occasionally, accompanied by proper officers, the convicts should be
+taken to the Italian Opera, or allowed to dance at Papanti's. The
+object would be so to refine their tastes that they should shrink from
+theft and murder, simply because they were ungentlemanly. Readmitted
+to society, these gentlemen would give tone to the upper classes.
+
+But Mr. Potts has gone in the midst of his schemes of usefulness. The
+tailless quadruped, the shedless cow, the unwhitewashed African, the
+condemned felon, the unhappy prisoner, actually treated as if he were
+no gentleman, in him have lost a friend. When shall we see his like
+again? Echo answers, Probably not for a very long period.
+
+
+
+
+THE GONDOLIER.
+
+    O, rest thee here, my gondolier,
+      Rest, rest, while up I go,
+    To climb yon light balcony's height
+      While thou keep'st watch below.
+    Ah! if high Heaven had tongues as well
+      As starry eyes to see--
+    O, think what tales 'twould hate to tell
+      Of wandering youths like me.
+
+                                  MOORE.
+
+
+The traveller of to-day who visits Venice sees in that once splendid
+city nothing but a mass of mouldering palaces, the melancholy remains
+of former grandeur and magnificence; but few tokens to remind him that
+she was once the queen of the Adriatic, the emporium of Europe. But at
+the period of which we write the "sea Cybele" was in the very zenith
+of her brilliancy and power.
+
+It was the season of carnival, and nowhere else in Italy were the
+holidays celebrated with such zest and magnificence. By night millions
+of lamps burned in the palace windows, rivalling the splendors of the
+firmament, and reflected in the still waters of the lagoons like
+myriads of stars. Night and day music was resounding. There were
+regattas, balls, and festas, and the entire population seemed to have
+gone mad with gayety, and to have lost all thought of the Council of
+Ten, the Bridge of Signs, and the poniards of the bravoes.
+
+On a bright morning of this holiday season, a group of young
+gondoliers, attired in their gayest costume, were sitting at the head
+of a flight of marble steps that led up from one of the canals,
+waiting for their fares. A cavalier and lady, both gayly attired, and
+both masked, had just alighted from a gondola and passed the boatman
+on their way to some rendezvous.
+
+The gondolier who had conducted them, an old, gray-headed,
+hard-looking fellow, had pocketed his fee, nodded his thanks, and
+pushed off again from the landing.
+
+"There goes old Beppo," said one of the gondoliers on shore. "He will
+make a good day's work of it. I can swear I saw the glitter of gold in
+his hand just now."
+
+"Yes, yes!" said another. "Let him alone for making his money. And
+what he makes, he keeps. He's a close-fisted old hunks."
+
+"And what is he so scrimping and saving for?" asked a third. "He is
+unmarried--he has no children."
+
+"No--but he is to be married," said the first.
+
+"How! the man's past sixty."
+
+"Yes, comrade, but he will not be the first old fellow who has taken a
+young wife in his dotage. Have you never heard that he has a young
+ward, beautiful as an angel, whom he keeps cooped up as tenderly as a
+brooding dove in his tumble-down old house on the Canal Orfano? Nobody
+but himself has ever set eyes on her to my knowledge."
+
+"There you're mistaken, Stefano," said a young man, who had not
+hitherto spoken. He was a fine, dashing, handsome young fellow of
+twenty-six, in a holiday suit of crimson and gold, with a fiery eye,
+long, curling locks, and a mustache as black as jet.
+
+"Let's hear what Antonio Giraldo has to say about the matter!" cried
+his companions.
+
+"Simply this," said the young man. "I have seen the imprisoned fair
+one--the peerless Zanetta--for such is her name. She is lovely as the
+day; and for her voice--why--_Corpo di Bacco_! La Gianina, the prima
+donna, is a screechowl to _my_ nightingale."
+
+"_Your_ nightingale! Bravo!" cried Stefano, in a tone of mocking
+irony. "What can you know about her voice?"
+
+"Simply this, Master Stefano," replied the young gondolier. "When
+floating beneath her window in my gondola, I have addressed her in
+such rude strains of melody as I best knew how to frame. She has
+replied in tones so liquid and pure that the angels might have
+listened."
+
+"By Heaven! the fellow's in love!" cried Stefano.
+
+"Long live music and love!" cried Antonio. "What were life worth
+without them?"
+
+"You're in excellent spirits!" cried Stefano.
+
+"And why shouldn't a man be, on his wedding day?"
+
+"Mad as a march hare," cried Stefano.
+
+"Mark me," said Antonio. "That girl shall never marry old Beppo--my
+word for it. She hates him."
+
+"She'll elope with some noble, then."
+
+"To be cast off to wither when he is tired of her charms? No! the
+bridegroom for Zanetta is a gondolier."
+
+"With all my heart," said Stefano. "But come, comrades, it is no use
+waiting here. Let us to our gondolas, and row for St. Marks. You'll
+come with us, Antonio."
+
+"Not I--my occupation's gone."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"I have sold my gondola."
+
+"Sold your gondola."
+
+"Ay--that was my word."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"I wanted money."
+
+"Your gondola was the means of earning it."
+
+"Very true--but I had occasion for a certain sum at once."
+
+"And why not have recourse to our purses, Antonio? Light as they are,
+we would have made it up by contributions among us."
+
+"I doubted not your kindness--but my self-respect would not permit me
+to ask your aid. Good by, comrades; we shall meet again to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow. _Addio_!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a brilliant masquerade that evening at the palazzo of Count
+Giulio Colonna. Invitations had been issued to all the world, and all
+the world was present. The finest music, the richest wines, the most
+splendid decorations were lavished on the occasion. Perhaps, among
+that brilliant company, there was more than one plebeian, who, under
+cover of the masque, and employing the license common at these
+saturnalia, had intruded himself unbidden.
+
+Old Beppo, the gondolier, was in attendance at the vestibule of the
+palace, feasting his avaricious eyes on the glimpses of wealth and
+luxury he noted within doors, when a gentleman in rich costume, and
+wearing a mask, beckoned him to one side, and desired a moment's
+interview.
+
+"Do you know me?" was the first question asked by the stranger.
+
+"No, signor," replied the old gondolier.
+
+"Do you know these gentlemen?" asked the mask, slipping a couple of
+gold pieces into the miser's hand.
+
+"Perfectly," replied the boatman, grinning. "What are your lordship's
+commands?"
+
+"Is your gondola in waiting?"
+
+"Yes, signor. It lies below, moored to the landing."
+
+"'Tis well; hast thou any scruples about aiding in a love intrigue?"
+
+"None in the world, signor."
+
+"Then I'll make a confidant of you."
+
+"I will be all secrecy, signor."
+
+"Briefly then, gondolier," said the mask, "I am in love with a very
+charming young person."
+
+"Well."
+
+"Well--and this young person loves me in return."
+
+"Good; and you are going to marry her."
+
+"Not so fast, gondolier. She has an old guardian, who, at the age of
+sixty, or more, has been absurd enough--only think of it--to propose
+to marry her himself."
+
+"The absurd old fool!" cried Beppo, not without some twinges, for he
+thought of his own projects with regard to Zanetta.
+
+"Now, then," said the mask, "I have resolved to run away with her
+to-night. I have the opportunity--for she is here in the Palazzo
+Colonna. Now will and can you aid me? I will recompense you
+liberally."
+
+"Ah! my lord--your lordship has come to the right market," said the
+old sinner. "I'm used to affairs of this kind. Has your lordship a
+priest engaged?"
+
+"I have not."
+
+"Then I can recommend one. Hard by is a chapel dedicated to Our Lady,
+where there is a very worthy man, accustomed to affairs of this kind,
+who will tie the knot for a moderate fee, without asking any
+impertinent questions."
+
+"His name?"
+
+"Father Dominic."
+
+"Good! he is the man for us--and you are the prince of gondoliers.
+Get your gondola ready, and I will rejoin you at the foot of the
+stairs with the lady in a moment."
+
+Old Beppo hastened to prepare his gondola, and while so doing,
+muttered to himself,--
+
+"Well, well--this is a good night's work. I'm getting old, and I must
+soon retire from business. Every stroke of luck like this helps on the
+day when I shall call Zanetta mine. So, there's another old fool to be
+duped to-night! Serve him right! Why don't he keep his treasure under
+lock and key, as I do? But men will never learn wisdom. Here they
+come."
+
+The young cavalier reappeared upon the marble steps, leading a lady,
+masked and veiled, but whose elastic step and graceful bearing seemed
+to designate her as one moving in the highest circles. The young
+lovers took their seats in the centre of the light craft, and drew the
+curtains round them, while Beppo pushed off, and his vigorous oar soon
+sent the shallop dancing over the waters of the lagoon. After a few
+moments the motion ceased, and Beppo informed his patron that they had
+arrived at their place of destination. After making the boat fast, the
+gondolier landed, and entered the small chapel which stood on the
+brink of the canal. In a few moments he returned, and informed the
+masked cavalier that all was prepared. The gentleman then handed out
+the lady, and both entered the chapel, Beppo keeping guard without, to
+prevent or give notice of any intrusion.
+
+The marriage ceremony was performed very rapidly by Father Dominic,
+for he was just going to bed when the gondola arrived, and was duly
+anxious to despatch his business, that he might consign his wearied
+limbs to rest.
+
+"Is it all over?" whispered Beppo, in the ear of the cavalier, as he
+came out with his lady.
+
+"All right," replied the mask, in the same tone of voice. "But one
+thing perplexes me. I have no place that I can call my home, to-night.
+The lady will be missed; my palace will be watched--I should incur the
+risk of swords crossing and bloodshed, if I sought to take her
+thither, to-night."
+
+"If my house were not so very humble," said the gondolier,
+hesitatingly.
+
+"The very thing," said the mask, joyfully. "No matter how humble the
+roof, provided that it shelter us. To-morrow we can arrange matters
+for flight, or for remaining."
+
+"Then get into the gondola, my lord, and I will row you thither in a
+few minutes."
+
+The party reėmbarked, and soon reached the gondolier's residence.
+After fastening his craft, he unlocked his door; and striking a light,
+conducted his distinguished guests up stairs. As he passed one of the
+chamber doors, the old gondolier, addressing the masked lady as he
+pointed to it, said,--
+
+"You have made a moonlight flitting, to-night, signora, and I wish you
+joy of your escape. But if you had been as safely kept as a precious
+charge I have in this room, you would never have stood before the
+altar to-night, with your noble bridegroom."
+
+"You forget that 'love laughs at locksmiths,'" said the cavalier.
+
+At the door of their apartments, the old man, before bidding them good
+night, pausing, said,--
+
+"Pardon me, signor, but I would fain know the name of the noble
+cavalier I have had the honor of serving to-night."
+
+"You shall know to-morrow," replied the mask. "_Buona notte_, Beppo.
+Remember it's carnival time."
+
+The next morning Beppo was up betimes, anxious to learn the mystery
+connected with the married couple. He was not kept long in suspense.
+His patron of the preceding evening soon made his appearance, but
+masked as before.
+
+"Beppo!" said the stranger, "you rendered me an inestimable service
+last night."
+
+"You rewarded me handsomely, signor, and I shall never regret it."
+
+"Give me your word then, that you will never upbraid me with the
+service I imposed on you."
+
+"I give you my word," said the old man, surprised; "but why do you
+exact it?"
+
+"Because," said the stranger, raising his mask, "I am no Venetian
+noble, but simply Antonio Giraldi, a gondolier like yourself."
+
+"You! Antonio Giraldi! And the lady--?"
+
+"Was your ward, Zanetta. You locked her chamber door, and took the
+house key with you--but a ladder of ropes from a lady's balcony is as
+good as a staircase; and as I told you last night, 'love laughs at
+locksmiths.'"
+
+Of course old Beppo stormed and swore, as irascible old gentlemen are
+very apt to do in similar circumstances, but he ended by forgiving the
+lovers, as that was the only act in his power. He not only forgave
+them, but gave up his gondola to the stronger hands of Antonio, and
+settled a handsome portion on Zanetta; nor did he ever regret his
+generosity, for they proved grateful and affectionate, and were the
+stay and solace of his declining years. Such is the veritable history
+of a carnival incident of the olden days of Venice.
+
+
+
+
+THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS.
+
+A MILITARY SKETCH.
+
+
+It was a great day for Dogtown, being no other than the anniversary of
+the annual militia muster; and on this occasion not only the Dogtown
+Blues were on parade upon the village green, but the entire regiment
+of which they formed a part, commanded by the gallant Colonel
+Zephaniah Slorkey, postmaster and variety-store keeper, was to engage
+in a sham fight, representing the surrender of Cornwallis. There was
+no attempt at historical costume, but it was understood that Slorkey,
+with his cowhide boots and rusty plated spurs, his long,
+swallow-tailed blue coat, and threadbare chapeau with a cock's tail
+feather in it, mounted on his seventy-five dollar piebald mare,
+promoted from the plough and "dump cart," was the representative of
+General Washington. Major Israel Ryely, his second in command, a
+native of the rival village of Hardscrabble, was to figure as Lord
+Cornwallis; and the selection was the more appropriate, since the
+private relations of these two great men were any thing but amicable,
+and they espoused opposite sides in politics. Dr. Galenius Jalap, an
+apothecary and surgeon of the regiment, a man with a hatchet face,
+hook nose, and thin, weeping whiskers, the color of sugar gingerbread,
+undertook the character of La Fayette at very short notice, and a very
+dim conception of the character he had.
+
+The entire population of Dogtown and Hardscrabble turned out to
+witness the stupendous military operations of the day. On the American
+side were the Dogtown Blues, with four companies of ununiformed
+militia, armed with rifles, fowling pieces, and rusty muskets, and
+typifying the continental army. Their artillery consisted of two light
+field pieces, served by a select band of volunteers. These pieces were
+posted on an eminence commanding the entire plain. At the foot of this
+hill, Colonel Slorkey drew up his troops in line of battle, his left
+wing protected by an impassable frog pond, and his right resting on a
+large piggery, whose extent prevented the enemy from turning his flank
+in that direction.
+
+On the descent of an opposing eminence, likewise strengthened by two
+guns, Major Ryely placed the Hardscrabble Guards, the Sheet Iron
+Riflemen, the Mudhollow Invincibles, the Dandelion Fireeaters, and the
+Scrufftown Sharpshooters. A thousand bright eyes, from the commanding
+eminences, looked down on the serried ranks of bayonets, the
+brazen-throated artillery, the panoplied plough horses, the plumed
+commanders, the rustling banners, and all the "pomp, pride, and
+circumstance of glorious war."
+
+Preliminaries being thus settled, the commanding officers put spurs to
+their horses, and met in the centre of the plain, there saluting with
+their scythe-blade swords.
+
+"Major Ryely," said the colonel, rising in his stirrups, "the
+follerin' are the odder of pufformances: we open with eour
+artillery--you reply with yourn. Under kiver of eour guns we advance
+to the attack. You do the same to meet us--firin' like smoke. Arter a
+sharp scrimmedge you retire--send us a flag of truce with terms--and
+finally lay down your arms."
+
+The major bowed till his ostrich feather touched the mane of his
+wall-eyed plough horse, then turned bridle, and regained his ranks at
+a gait something between a stumble and a rack. The representative of
+General Washington rejoined his men at a hard trot, rising two feet
+from his saddle at every concussion of his bony steed.
+
+"Fellur sogers!" roared the temporary father of his country; "yonder
+stands Cornwallis and his redcoats--only they haint got red coats,
+partickerlarly them in blue swaller-tails. We air bound to lick
+'em--hurrah for our side! Go inter 'em like a thousand of bricks
+fallin' off 'n a slated rufe. The genius of Ammerikin liberty, in the
+shape of the carnivorous eagle, soarin' aloft on diluted pillions,
+seems to mutter _E Pluribus Unum_--we are one of 'em! Hail Columby
+happy land! Sing Yankee Doodle that fine tune--cry havock! and let
+looset the dogs of war."
+
+Then commenced the horror of the sham fight. The continental guns
+opened in thunder tones. The British artillery hurled back their
+terrific echoes. Bang! bang! boom! boom! The canopy of heaven was
+stained with the sulphurous smoke. The drummers rattled away on their
+sheepskins--the fifers distended their cheeks till they resembled
+blown bladders. In the midst of all this noise and tumult, the
+undaunted Slorkey, and the indomitable Jalap, rushed to and fro, with
+clanking scabbards, and brandished scythe blades, twin thunderbolts of
+war.
+
+"Forrard march!" roared Slorkey. With the yell of demons, his fierce
+followers advanced to the onset, firing their blank cartridges with
+desperate valor.
+
+Equally alert were Major Ryely and his followers.
+
+     "Their swords were a thousand, their bosoms were one."
+
+Their faces begrimed with powder, their eyes gleaming with ferocity,
+they descended to the plain--an avalanche of heroes. The soul of
+Headly would have swelled within him had he seen them.
+
+For more than one hour that deadly consumption of blank cartridges
+endured, and then Ryely and his troops retired in good order.
+
+"Boys," said the major, "old Slorkey wants us to gin out--send a flag
+of truce--a white pocket handkerchief on a beanpole--and propose to
+surrender. But it goes agin my grit for Hardscrabble to cave in to
+Dogtown, when we could knock the hindsights off 'em, if we was only a
+mind to."
+
+"Hurray for the major!" responded the Hardscrabblers.
+
+"I've got a grudge agin the kurnil," said the major, "and if you'll
+stand by me, I'll take it out of 'em. What say?"
+
+"Agreed!" was the spontaneous response.
+
+While Slorkey was waiting for the covenanted flag of truce, he saw the
+hated Ryely rise in his stirrups, and heard his stentorian voice roar
+out the word, "Charge!"
+
+A deafening shout answered his appeal. In an instant Hardscrabble and
+its allies were down on Dogtown and its defenders. The latter stood it
+for a moment, but Ryely knocked the colonel off his horse, the surgeon
+had his nose pulled, the Dogtown Blues justified their name by their
+looks, and, seized with a sudden panic, fled--fled ingloriously from
+their native training field. The audacious outrage was
+consummated--history was violated--and General Washington was beaten by
+Cornwallis.
+
+Dire were the threats against Ryely uttered by the colonel, as he was
+carried home on a shutter; nothing short of a court martial was his
+slightest menace. But no court martial ever took place. The military
+pride and glory of Dogtown were wounded to the quick; the force of
+popular opinion compelled Slorkey to resign, and to consummate his
+chagrin, his treacherous rival was chosen colonel of the regiment. So
+unstable are human honors--so ungrateful are republics.
+
+
+
+
+THE THREE BRIDES.
+
+
+Towards the close of a chilly afternoon, in the latter part of last
+November, I was travelling in New Hampshire on horseback. The road was
+solitary and rugged, and wound along through gloomy pine forests and
+over abrupt and stony hills. Several circumstances conduced to my
+discomfort. I was not sure of my way; I had a hurt in my bridle hand,
+and evening was approaching, heralded by an icy rain and a cold,
+searching wind. I felt a sinking of spirits which I could not dispel
+by rapid riding; for my horse, fatigued by a long day's journey,
+refused to answer spur and whip with his usual animation. In an hour
+after, I was convinced that I had mistaken my road, and night
+surprised me in the forest. I had been in more unpleasant situations;
+so I adopted my usual expedient of letting the reins fall upon my
+courser's neck. He, however, blundered on, with his nose drooping to
+the ground, stumbling every moment, though ordinarily as surefooted as
+a roebuck. So we plodded on for a mile, while the landscape grew
+darker and darker. At length, finding my horse less intelligent or
+more despairing than myself, I resumed the rein, and endeavored to
+cheer my brute companion. To tell the truth, I stood in need of
+something exhilarating myself. The sombre air of the eternal pines
+struck a deathly gloom to my heart, as one by one they seemed to rise
+on my path, like threatening genii extending their scathed limbs to
+meet me. The rain, fine and cold, bedewed me from head to foot, and I
+question if a more miserable pair of animals ever threaded their way
+through the mazes of an enchanted forest. I thought of the comfortable
+home I had left for my forlorn pleasure excursion, of that cheerful
+hearth around which my family were gathered, of wine, music, love, and
+the thousand endearments I had left behind, and then I gazed into the
+recesses of the shadowy wood that closed about me, almost in despair.
+I began to dread the apparition of some giant intruder, and was
+seriously meditating the production of a pair of pistols, when my
+quick glance caught the glimmer of distant lights, twinkling through
+some opening in the trees, and darting a beam of hope upon the
+wanderer's soul. My reins were instantly grasped, and my rowels were
+struck into the sides of my charger. He snorted, pricked up his ears,
+erected his head, and sprang forth in an uncontrollable gallop. Up
+hill and down hill I pricked my gallant gray; and when the forest was
+past, and his hoofs glinted on the stones of a street leading through
+a small village, I felt an animation that I cannot well describe. A
+creaking signboard, swinging in the wind on rusty irons, directed me
+to the only inn of the village. It was a two-story brick building,
+standing a little back from the road. I drew rein at the door, and
+dismounted my weary nag. My loud vociferations summoned to my side a
+bull dog, cursed with a most unhappy disposition, and a hostler whose
+temper was hardly more amiable. He took my horse with an air of surly
+indifference, and gruffly directed me to the bar room.
+
+This apartment was tenanted by half a dozen rough farmers, rendered
+savage and morose by incessantly imbibing alcohol; and by the
+proprietor of the tavern, a bluff man, with a portly paunch, a hard
+gray eye, and a stern Caledonian lip. He welcomed me without much
+frankness or cordiality, and I sank into a wooden settle, eyed by the
+surly guests of mine host, and the subject of sundry muttered remarks.
+The group, as it was lighted up by the strong red glare of the fire,
+had certainly a bandit appearance, which, however delightful to a
+Salvator Rosa, was by no means inviting to a traveller who had sought
+the bosom of the hills for pleasure. After making a few remarks, which
+elicited only monosyllables in answer, I relapsed into silence; from
+which, however, I was soon aroused by the entrance of the surly
+hostler, who in no very gracious manner informed me that my horse was
+lame, and likely to be sick. This intelligence produced a visit to the
+stable, and the conviction that I could not possibly resume my journey
+on the ensuing day; which was somewhat disagreeable to a man who had
+taken up a decided prejudice against the inn and all its inmates.
+
+Having succeeded in procuring a private room and a fire, I ignited an
+execrable cigar, (ah, how unlike thy _principes_, dear S.,) and
+endeavored to lose myself in the agreeable occupation of castle
+building while supper was preparing. Alas! my fancy came not at my
+call. I had lost my power of abstraction--the realities around me were
+too engrossing. Ere the dying shriek of a majestic rooster had ceased
+to sound in my ear, his remains were served upon my table, together
+with a cup or two of very villanous gunpowder tea, and a pitcher of
+cider, with coarse bread and butter _ad libitum_. Supper was soon
+despatched, and in answer to a bell, lightly touched, a
+vinegar-visaged waiting-maid, of the interesting age of forty-five,
+entered and removed the scarcely touched viands--the _rudis
+indigestaque moles_. I ventured to address her, with a request that I
+might be supplied with a few books, to enable me to while away the
+evening. I anticipated a literary feast from the readiness with which
+she rushed from the room; but she reappeared, bringing only Young's
+Night Thoughts, (very greasy,) a volume of tales with the catastrophes
+torn out, a set of plays consisting only of first acts, and an odd
+number of the Eclectic Magazine. This was sufficiently provoking; but
+I read a few pages, and tried a second cigar, and made the tour of the
+apartment, examining a family mourning-piece worked in satin, a
+genealogical tree done in worsted, and a portrait of the mutton-headed
+landlord and his snappish wife. I counted the ticks of the clock for
+half an hour, and was finally reduced to the forlorn expedient of
+seeing likenesses in the burning embers. When the clock struck nine, I
+rang for slippers and a guide to my bed room, and the landlord
+appeared, candle in hand, to usher me to my sleeping apartment. As I
+followed him up the creaking staircase, and along the dark upper
+entry, I could not help regretting that fancy was unable to convert
+him into the seneschal of a baronial mansion, and the room to which I
+was going a haunted chamber. It seemed as if my surly host had the
+power of divining what was passing in my mind, for when he had ushered
+me into the room, and placed the candle on the light stand, he said,--
+
+"I hope you'll sleep comfortable, for there ain't many rats here, sir.
+And as for the ghost they say frequents this chamber, I believe that's
+all in my eye, though, to be sure, the window does look out on the
+burial ground."
+
+"Umph! a comfortable prospect."
+
+"Very, sir; you have a fine view of the squire's new tomb and the
+poorhouse, with a wing of the jail behind the trees. And I've stuck my
+second-best hat in that broken pane of glass, and there's a chest of
+drawers to set against the door; so you'll be warm and free from
+intrusion. I wish you good night, sir."
+
+All that night I was troubled with strange dreams, peopled by phantoms
+from the neighboring churchyard; but a _bona fide_ ghost I cannot say
+I saw. In the morning I rose very early, and took a look from the
+window, but the prospect was very uninviting. The churchyard was a
+bleak, desolate place, overgrown with weeds, and studded with slate
+stones, bounded by a ruinous brick wall, and having an entrance
+through a dilapidated gateway. One or two melancholy-looking cows were
+feeding on the rank herbage that sprang from the unctuous soil,
+spurning many a _hic jacet_ with their cloven hoofs. But afar, in the
+most distant part of the field, I espied the figure of a man who was
+busily occupied in digging a grave. There was something within that
+impelled me to stroll forth and accost him. I dressed, descended, and
+having ordered breakfast, left the inn, clambered over the ruinous
+wall, and stood within the precincts of the burial-place. The spot had
+evidently been used for the purposes of sepulture for a number of
+years, for the ground rose into numerous hillocks, and I could hardly
+walk a step without stumbling upon some grassy mound. Even where the
+perishable gravestones had been shattered by the hand of time, the
+length of the elevations enabled me to judge of the age of the
+deceased. This slight swell rose over the remains of some beloved
+child, who had been committed to the dust with only the simple
+ceremonies of the Protestant faith, bedewed by the tears of parents,
+and blessed by the broken voice of farewell affection. This mound, of
+larger dimension, was heaped above the giant frame of manhood. Some
+sturdy tiller of the soil, or rough dweller in the forest, perhaps cut
+off by a sudden casualty, had been laid here in his last leaden
+sleep--no more to start at the rising beam of the sun, no more to rush
+to the glorious excitement of the hunt, no more to pant in noonday
+toil. Over the whole field of the dead there seemed to brood the
+spirit of desolation. Stern heads, rudely chiselled, from the grave
+stones, and frightful emblems met the eye at every turn. Here was none
+of that simple elegance with which modern taste loves to invest the
+memorials of the departed; no graceful acacias, or nodding elms, or
+sorrowing willows shed their dews upon the turf--every thing spoke of
+the bitterness of parting, of the agony of the last hour, of the
+passing away from earth--nothing of the reunion in heaven!
+
+I passed on to where the grave digger was pursuing his occupation. He
+answered my morning salutation civilly enough, but continued intent
+upon his work. He was a man of about fifty years of age, spare, but
+strong, with gray hair, and sunken cheeks, and certain lines about the
+mouth which augured a propensity to indulge in dry jest, though the
+sternness of his gray eye seemed to contradict the tacit assertion.
+
+"An unpleasant morning, sir, to work in the open air," said I.
+
+"He that regardeth the clouds shall not reap," replied the grave
+digger, still plying his spade. "Death stalks abroad fair day and foul
+day, and we that follow in his footsteps must prepare for the dead,
+rain or shine."
+
+"A melancholy occupation."
+
+"A fit one for a moralist. Some would find a pleasure in it. Deacon
+Giles, I am sure, would willingly be in my place now."
+
+"And why so?"
+
+"This grave is for his wife," replied the grave digger, looking up
+from his occupation with a dry smile that wrinkled his sallow cheek
+and distorted his shrunken lips. Perceiving that his merriment was not
+infectious, he resumed his employment, and that so assiduously, that
+in a very short time he had hollowed the last resting-place of Deacon
+Giles's consort. This done, he ascended from the trench with a
+lightness that surprised me, and walking a few paces from the new-made
+grave, sat down upon a tombstone, and beckoned me to approach. I did
+so.
+
+"Young man," said he, "a sexton and a grave digger, if he is one who
+has a zeal for his calling, becomes something of an historian,
+amassing many a curious tale and strange legend concerning the people
+with whom he has to do, living and dead. For a man with a taste for
+his profession cannot provide for the last repose of his fellows
+without taking an interest in their story, the manner of their death,
+and the concern of the relatives who follow their remains so tearfully
+to the grave."
+
+"Then," replied I, taking a seat beside the sexton, "methinks you
+could relate some interesting tales."
+
+Again the withering smile that I had before observed passed over the
+face of the sexton, as he answered,--
+
+"I am no story teller, sir; I deal in fact, not fiction. Yes, yes, I
+could chronicle some strange events. But of all things I know, there
+is nothing stranger than the melancholy history of the three brides."
+
+"The three brides?"
+
+"Ay. Do you see three hillocks yonder, side by side? There they sleep,
+and will till the last trumpet comes wailing and wailing through the
+heart of these lone hills, with a tone so strange and stirring, that
+the dead will start from their graves at its first awful note. Then
+will come the judgment and the retribution. But to my tale. Look
+there, sir; on yonder hill you may observe a little isolated house,
+with a straggling fence in front, and a few stunted apple trees on the
+ascent behind it. It is sadly out of repair now, and the garden is all
+overgrown with weeds and brambles, and the whole place has a desolate
+appearance. If the wind were high now, you might hear the old crazy
+shutters flapping against the sides, and the wind tearing the gray
+shingles off the roof. Many years ago, there lived in that house an
+old man and his son, who cultivated the few acres of arable land which
+belong to it.
+
+"The father was a self-taught man, deeply versed in the mysteries of
+science, and, as he could tell the name of every flower that blossomed
+in the wood and grew in the garden, and used to sit up late of nights
+at his books, or reading the mystic story of the starry heavens, men
+thought he was crazed or bewitched, and avoided him, and even hated
+him, as the ignorant ever shun and dread the gifted and enlightened. A
+few there were, and among others the minister, and lawyer, and
+physician of the place, who showed some willingness to afford him
+countenance; but they soon dropped his acquaintance, for they found
+the old man somewhat reserved and morose, and, moreover, their vanity
+was wounded by discovering the extent of his knowledge. To the
+minister he would quote the Fathers and the Scriptures in the original
+tongues and showed himself well armed with the weapons of polemical
+controversy. He astonished the lawyer by his profound acquaintance
+with jurisprudence; and the physician was surprised at the extent of
+his medical knowledge. So they all deserted him, and the minister,
+from whom the old man differed in some trifling points of doctrine,
+spoke very slightingly of him; and by and by all looked upon the
+self-educated farmer with eyes of aversion. But he little cared for
+that, for he derived his consolation from loftier resources, and in
+the untracked paths of science found a pleasure as in the pathless
+woods! He instructed his son in all his lore--the languages,
+literature, history, philosophy, science, were unfolded, one by one,
+to the enthusiastic son of the solitary. Years rolled away, and the
+old man died. He died when a storm convulsed the face of nature, when
+the wind howled around his shattered dwelling, and the lightning
+played above the roof; and though he went to heaven in faith and
+purity, the vulgar thought and said that the evil one had claimed his
+own in the thunder and commotion of the elements. I cannot paint to
+you the grief of the son at his bereavement. He was, for a time, as
+one distracted. The minister came and muttered a few cold and hollow
+phrases in his ear, and a few neighbors, impelled by curiosity to see
+the interior of the old man's dwelling, came to his funeral. With a
+proud and lofty look the son stood beside the departed in the midst of
+the band of hypocritical mourners, with a pang at his heart, but a
+serenity on his brow. He thanked his friends for their kindness,
+acknowledged their courtesy, and then strode away from the grave to
+bury his grief in the privacy of his deserted dwelling.
+
+"He found, at first, the solitude of the mansion almost insupportable,
+and he paced the echoing floors from morning till night, in all the
+agony of woe and desolation, vainly imploring Heaven for relief. It
+came to him first in the guise of poetic inspiration. He wrote with a
+wonderful ease and power. Page after page came from his prolific pen,
+almost without an effort; and there was a time when he dreamed (vain
+fool!) of immortality. Some of his productions came before the world.
+They were praised and circulated, and inquiries were set on foot in
+the hope of discovering the author. He, wrapped in the veil of
+impenetrable obscurity, listened to the voice of applause, more
+delicious because it was obtained by stealth. From the obscurity of
+yonder lone mansion, and from this remote region, to send forth lays
+which astonished the world, was, indeed, a triumph to the visionary
+bard.
+
+"His thirst for fame was gratified, and now he began to yearn for the
+companionship of some sweet being of the other sex, to share the
+laurels he had won, to whisper consolation in his ear in moments of
+despondency, and to supply the void which the death of his old father
+had occasioned. He would picture to himself the felicity of a refined
+intercourse with a highly intellectual and beautiful woman, and, as he
+had chosen for his motto, _What has been done may still be done_, he
+did not despair of success. In this village lived three sisters, all
+beautiful and all accomplished. Their names were Mary, Adelaide, and
+Madeleine. I am far enough past the age of enthusiasm, but never can I
+forget the beauty of those young girls. Mary was the youngest, and a
+fairer-haired, more laughing damsel never danced upon a green.
+Adelaide, who was a few years older, was dark haired and pensive; but
+of the three, Madeleine, the eldest, possessed the most fire, spirit,
+cultivation, and intellectuality. Their father was a man of taste and
+education, and, being somewhat above vulgar prejudices, permitted the
+visits of the hero of my story. Still he did not altogether encourage
+the affection which he found springing up between Mary and the poet.
+When, however, he found that her affections were engaged, he did not
+withhold his consent from her marriage, and the recluse bore to his
+solitary mansion the young bride of his affections. O sir, the house
+assumed a new appearance within and without. Roses bloomed in the
+garden, jessamines peeped through its lattices, and the fields about
+it smiled with the effects of careful cultivation. Lights were seen in
+the little parlor in the evening, and many a time would the passenger
+pause by the garden gate to listen to strains of the sweetest music,
+breathed by choral voices from the cottage. If the mysterious student
+and his wife were neglected by their neighbors, what cared they? Their
+endearing and mutual affection made their home a little paradise. But
+death came to Eden. Mary fell suddenly sick, and, after a few hours'
+illness, died in the arms of her husband and her sister Madeleine.
+This was the student's second heavy affliction.
+
+"Days, months, rolled on, and the only solace of the bereaved was to
+sit with the sisters of the deceased, and talk of the lost one. To
+Adelaide, at length, he offered his widowed heart. She came to his
+lone house like the dove, bearing the olive branch of peace and
+consolation. Their bridal was not one of revelry and mirth, for a sad
+recollection brooded over the hour. Yet they lived happily; the
+husband again smiled, and, with a new spring, the roses again
+blossomed in their garden. But it seemed as if a fatality pursued this
+singular man. When the rose withered and the leaf fell, in the mellow
+autumn of the year, Adelaide, too, sickened and died, like her younger
+sister, in the arms of her husband and of Madeleine.
+
+"Perhaps you will think it strange, young man, that, after all, the
+wretched survivor stood again at the altar. But he was a mysterious
+being, whose ways were inscrutable, who, thirsting for domestic bliss,
+was doomed ever to seek and never to find it. His third bride was
+Madeleine. I well remember her. She was a beauty, in the true sense of
+the word. It may seem strange to you to hear the praise of beauty from
+such lips as mine; but I cannot help expatiating upon hers. She might
+have sat upon a throne, and the most loyal subject, the proudest peer,
+would have sworn the blood within her veins had descended from a
+hundred kings. She was a proud creature, with a tall, commanding
+form, and raven tresses, that floated, dark and cloud-like, over her
+shoulders. She was a singularly-gifted woman, and possessed of rare
+inspiration. She loved the widower for his power and his fame, and she
+wedded him. They were married in that church. It was on a summer
+afternoon--I recollect it well. During the ceremony, the blackest
+cloud I ever saw overspread the heavens like a pall, and, at the
+moment when the _third bride_ pronounced her vow, a clap of thunder
+shook the building to the centre. All the females shrieked, but the
+bride herself made the response with a steady voice, and her eyes
+glittered with wild fire as she gazed upon her bridegroom. He remarked
+a kind of incoherence in her expressions as they rode home-ward, which
+surprised him at the time. Arrived at his house, she shrunk upon the
+threshold: but this was the timidity of a maiden. When they were alone
+he clasped her hand--it was as cold as ice! He looked into her face.
+
+"Madeleine," said he, "what means this? your cheeks are as pale as
+your wedding gown!" The bride uttered a frantic shriek.
+
+"My wedding gown!" exclaimed she; "no, no--this--this is my sister's
+shroud! The hour for confession has arrived. It is God that impels me
+to speak. To win you I have lost my soul! Yes--yes--I am a murderess!
+She smiled upon me in the joyous affection of her young heart--but I
+gave her the fatal drug! Adelaide twined her white arms about my neck,
+but I administered the poison! Take me to your arms: I have lost my
+soul for you, and mine must you be!"
+
+"She spread her long, white arms, and stood like a maniac before him,"
+said the sexton, rising, in the excitement of the moment, and assuming
+the attitude he described; "and then," continued he, in a hollow
+voice, "at that moment came the thunder and the flash, and the guilty
+woman fell dead upon the floor!" The countenance of the narrator
+expressed all the horror that he felt.
+
+"And the bridegroom," asked I; "the husband of the destroyer and the
+victims--what became of him?"
+
+"_He stands before you_!" was the thrilling answer.
+
+
+
+
+CALIFORNIA SPECULATION.
+
+
+Mose Jenkins did not take the California fever when it first broke
+out; for he was, as he acknowledged himself, "slow-motioned," and his
+skull was of such formidable thickness, that it required a good many
+months for an idea to penetrate into his brain. In the interim, he
+delved and digged away on a corner of his father's farm, having leased
+the land of the old gentleman, and purchased his time of the same
+respectable individual for the purpose of working it. But to work a
+farm where the rocks are so near together, that the sheep's noses have
+to be sharpened before they can graze between them, is not a very
+profitable business; and Mose, by dint of hard thinking, arrived at
+the conclusion that there might possibly be some other occupation less
+laborious and quite as lucrative.
+
+"Confound these granite rocks!" he exclaimed, one day, as he was
+ploughing, after he had broken his trace chains for a second time;
+"they hev another kind er rocks in Calliforny. Jehosaphat! If I was
+only _thar_. There a fellur hez to dig; but he gets pretty good
+wages--five thousand dollars a month is middlin', not to say fair."
+
+In short, Mose Jenkins made up his mind to go to San Francisco, having
+got the wherewithal to carry him in a packet to the land of promise.
+Fearful of opposition, he communicated his project neither to the
+author of his days, the venerable Zephaniah Jenkins, nor to the
+beloved of his heart, Miss Prudence Salter, a cherry-cheeked damsel
+in a state of orphanage; but wrote down to a friend in Boston to
+secure a passage. He reserved his communications to the very last
+moment, when he was all ready for starting. His father gave him his
+blessing; Prudence was more difficult to manage.
+
+"It's a breach of promise case," said she, "I don't believe you mean
+to marry me arter all."
+
+"Yes, I do, ye silly critter," said Mose. "I'll come and make you Mrs.
+Jenkins; but I want to get the rocks first."
+
+"Ain't there rocks enough here?" asked Prudence, simply.
+
+"Pooh! I mean the rocks what folks carries in their pockets, an'
+treats every body with--all sollid gold."
+
+"I don't believe half them stories," said Prudence, contemptuously.
+
+"They're as true as gospil," said Mose, "'cause I see it in a paper.
+And there's Curnil Hateful Slowboy, that went from here last
+year--you'd ort to know him, Prudence, coz he was one of your old
+beaux--wall, now, they say he's one of the richest men in Calliforny.
+I tell you I'm bound to make my fortin' there."
+
+"And so am I," said Prudence, resolutely.
+
+"You!" exclaimed Mose.
+
+"Yes. I'm bound to go, too; and I'll follow you in the next ship, else
+you'll be green enough to marry one of them 'ere Ingine gals."
+
+"Prudence, you're spunk!" exclaimed Mose, in terms of the warmest
+admiration. "Good by! And I swow I'll marry you jest as soon as you
+set foot in Calliforny."
+
+Not to amplify on details, our adventurer landed there safely, and
+was, of course, like all verdant voyagers, much surprised at the
+tariff of prices subjected to his notice. The porter who carried his
+trunk to the hotel charged him ten dollars; and though that same hotel
+was a leaky tent, a plate of tough beef was charged seventy-five
+cents, and a watery potato fifty. Business was very dull, too, at the
+moment of his arrival; the accounts from the mines were disastrous,
+and every thing announced an approaching crisis. Moses confided his
+griefs to Colonel Hateful Slowboy, his fellow-townsman, who was really
+one of the richest men in California, winding up with lamentations
+over the expected arrival of Prudence, whom he had promised to marry.
+
+"What kin I do with a wife," said he, "when I can't support myself,
+even?"
+
+"Very true," said the colonel. "Now, if it were me, the case would be
+very different."
+
+"Prudence done all the courtin' herself, curnil," said our hero,
+sulkily. "I never should have offered if it hadn't been for her. I
+kinder like 'er pretty well, though: she's a sort of pretty nice gal."
+
+"Well, Mose," said the colonel, "what do you say to giving up your
+claim?"
+
+"Eh?" said Mose, pricking up his ears.
+
+"What'll you take for your right and title--cash down--no questions
+asked?"
+
+"Wall, I dunnow," said Mose, opening his jackknife and picking up a
+chip. "Prudence is a pretty nice gal, as you said, curnil."
+
+"As _you_ said, Mr. Jenkins."
+
+"Wall, it's all the same. The critter's very fond of me and so be I of
+her. I had plaguy hard work, I tell you, to get her consent."
+
+"Come, come," said the colonel, "you want to drive a hard bargain with
+me. I'm willing to give you a fair price, say twenty thousand; but I
+don't want to be swindled."
+
+"Say twenty-five thousand and take her, curnil."
+
+"No--twenty."
+
+"Cash down?"
+
+"Cash down."
+
+"Done."
+
+"The money's ready whenever Prudence is."
+
+In a few days another ship from Boston came in, and Prudence was among
+the first to land. Mose met her with very little ardor, the colonel
+remaining in the background. After some little conversation, the young
+lady reminded her lover of their agreement.
+
+"I can't do it, Prudence; I've swore off--I've jined the old bachelor
+society."
+
+"But you promised me," screamed Prudence.
+
+"Can't help that; you can't get a verdict here for breaches of
+promise; there ain't no law here; every body goes on his own
+individual hook."
+
+"You cruel monster, why can't you marry me?"
+
+"'Cause."
+
+"'Cause what?"
+
+"'Cause," said Mose, retreating to a safe distance, "_I've traded you
+away_!"
+
+Colonel Slowboy was at hand to catch the fair one as she came near
+falling. He was her old beau, and he knew the weak points of her
+character; moreover he had splendid red whiskers and a million of
+money--she married him, partly from ambition and partly from revenge.
+
+The moment they were united, Moses set sail for the United States,
+with his twenty thousand dollars, and arrived back safely. When asked
+how he had accumulated such a sum in so short a time, he answered,
+"trading," and when questioned about the prospects of the El Dorado,
+would answer, with a grin, that it was a "great country for women."
+And this was the end of his California speculation.
+
+
+
+
+THE FRENCH GUARDSMAN.
+
+
+With the army of Marshal Saxe, encamped near Fontenoy ready to give
+battle to the allies, there were not a few ladies, who, impelled by a
+chivalric feeling, or personally interested in the fate of some of the
+combatants, had followed the troops to witness the triumph of the
+French arms. Their presence was at once the incitement and reward of
+valor, for what soldier would not fight with tenfold gallantry when he
+knew that his exploits were witnessed by the eyes of her he loved as
+wife, mistress, or mother, and whose safety or honor, perhaps,
+depended on his prowess?
+
+Among those most distinguished for their beauty was the youthful
+Heloise, the lovely daughter of the Baron de Clairville, a French
+general officer. The _beaux yeux_ of the demoiselle had enslaved more
+than one young officer, but of the host of suitors none could boast
+with reason of encouragement, except Henri de Grandville, and Raoul,
+Count de St. Prix, both commanding companies in the French Guards.
+Both were handsome and accomplished young men, and both had yet their
+spurs to win upon the field of battle. They had been fast friends
+until the pursuit of the same lady had created a sort of estrangement
+between them. Little was known of Henri de Grandville previous to his
+reception of his commission in the guards. He had been brought up by
+his mother in an old provincial chateau, and though his manners and
+education were those of a gentleman, still he seemed but little
+acquainted with the world, and above all ignorant of the lighter
+accomplishments of the courtier. Perhaps this very simplicity of
+manner and frankness of character, contrasting so strangely with the
+fashionable affectations of the court, endeared him to his comrades,
+and strongly prepossessed Heloise de Clairville in his favor. His
+rival was of a different stamp. Raoul de St. Prix was a dashing,
+brilliant officer, brave as steel, but fond of dress, reckless,
+dissipated, and extravagant. Yet his faults were those of his age, and
+belonged to the circumstances by which he was surrounded. The Baron de
+Clairville, while he left his daughter free to make her election, yet,
+as a plain, blunt soldier, rather than a courtier, secretly inclined
+to favor the pretensions of Henri. Still, his treatment of the two
+young guardsmen was the same, for they gave equal promise of military
+gallantry.
+
+It was on the eve of the battle of Fontenoy that Henri sought an
+interview with Heloise, who occupied a gay pavilion near her father's
+tent. He found her alone and weeping.
+
+"Mademoiselle," said he, "you are unhappy. Will you permit a friend to
+inquire the cause of your sorrow?"
+
+"Can you ask me, Monsieur de Grandville! Of the thousands of brave men
+who lie down to-night in peaceful slumber, how many sleep their last
+sleep on earth! How many eyes, that will witness to-morrow's sun
+arise, will be closed forever before it goes down at evening! O, what
+a dreadful business is this trade of war! My poor father, he never
+cares for himself, he never asks his men to go where he is unwilling
+to lead. I fear for his safety in the deadly conflict of to-morrow."
+
+"If the devotion of one faithful follower can save him, lady,"
+answered Henri, "be assured of his safety. I would pour out the blood
+in my veins as freely as water to shield the father of Heloise de
+Clairville."
+
+"But you--you--Henri--Monsieur de Grandville--you think nothing of
+your own life."
+
+"If I fall," answered the young soldier, "my poor mother will weep
+bitterly for her only son, though he perish on the field of honor. But
+who else will shed a tear for the poor guardsman?"
+
+"Henri!" exclaimed the young girl, reproachfully, and the soft eyes
+she raised to his were filled with tears.
+
+"Is it possible?" cried the young soldier. "Can my fate awaken even a
+momentary interest in the heart of the loveliest, the gentlest of her
+sex? Ah, why do you render life so dear to me at the moment I must
+peril it?"
+
+"Believe me," answered Heloise, drying her tears, "that I would not
+hold you back, when honor beckons you. It is to such hands as yours
+that the honor of the golden lilies is committed. I am the daughter of
+a soldier, and though these tears confess my sex, I honor bravery when
+it is displayed in a good cause. I honor the soldier as much as I
+detest the duellist."
+
+"Then listen to one whose sword was never stained with his brother's
+blood. I had thought to go to the field with my secret concealed in my
+own breast, but something impels me to speak out. I love you,
+Heloise--I have dared to love--to adore you."
+
+The fair girl blushed till her very temples were crimsoned over with
+eloquent blood. The young soldier threw himself at her feet, and
+taking the fair hand she abandoned to him, covered it with kisses; nor
+did he rise till he had received confirmation of his new-born hopes,
+and knew that, for good or ill, the heart of Heloise was irrevocably
+his. Finally, he was compelled to tear himself away, but he carried
+to his tent a feeling of delicious joy which steeled his mind against
+all thought of the chances of the morrow.
+
+The moments passed away in delirious revery, but at length he was
+interrupted by St. Prix.
+
+The count was in the worst of humors--his brow was dark with passion,
+and he threw himself into a seat, and flung his plumed hat on the
+table with an energy that betrayed the violence of his emotions.
+
+"What's the matter, Raoul?" asked Henri. "Has Saxe changed his plans?
+Do we fall back instead of advancing?"
+
+"No, thank God! there will be plenty of throat-cutting to-morrow, and
+the French Guards have the post of honor."
+
+"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Henri, joyfully.
+
+"You seem in excellent spirits to-night, Captain Henri de Grandville."
+
+"I wish I could say as much of you, Captain Raoul de St. Prix."
+
+"Tell me the cause of your felicity."
+
+"Enlighten me respecting your ill humor."
+
+"Willingly, on condition that you will explain your satisfaction."
+
+"Agreed."
+
+"Well, then--you know the marked preference--marked preference, I
+say--always shown me by Mademoiselle Heloise de Clairville."
+
+"I will not dispute with you--go on."
+
+"You must have been blinded by absurd hopes not to have noticed it;
+every officer in the army looked to me as the _futur_ of the lady.
+Well, sir, encouraged and led on by this siren, I made my proposals to
+her to-night. _Ventre St. Gris_! I had engaged to settle with my
+creditors out of her marriage portion."
+
+"Go on--go on--this is excellent, St. Prix."
+
+"Well, sir, she rejected me--me, the Count de St. Prix. A prior
+engagement, forsooth! I wish to Heaven I knew the fellow! Before
+sunrise he should have more button holes in his doublet than ever his
+tailor made."
+
+"Captain St. Prix," replied Henri, "you have not far to look. In me
+behold the fortunate suitor. Come, come; confess that your pride, and
+not your heart, was engaged in the affair. The game was fairly played;
+the stakes are mine."
+
+"This trifling will not pass muster with me, sir," said the count,
+sternly. "Know--if you knew it not before--that Raoul de St. Prix
+never fixed his eye on a prize that he did not obtain, or missing it,
+failed to punish his successful rival. You are a soldier, and you
+understand me, sir," he added, touching his sword knot with his gloved
+hand.
+
+"This is midsummer madness, Raoul," answered Henri, with good temper.
+"Had I been unsuccessful, painful, fatal as the disappointment would
+have been, I should have resigned the lady to you without a struggle."
+
+"That shows the difference between a gentleman and a _parvenu_,"
+retorted St. Prix.
+
+"A _parvenu_!" cried De Grandville, starting to his feet.
+
+"Yes. Who knows you? Whence came you? You are an intruder in our
+ranks."
+
+"I bear the king's commission."
+
+"Yes, and have not courage enough to sustain it. I have defied you to
+your teeth, and you refuse to fight."
+
+"My principles are opposed to duelling. In the words of the lady whose
+preference honors me, 'I honor the soldier as much as I detest the
+duellist.' Besides, has not the marshal strictly forbidden duels in
+the camp? Conscience, reason, authority, every consideration forbids
+my acceptance of the challenge."
+
+"Then," said St. Prix, "you shall submit to an indignity that
+disgraces a French gentleman forever." And raising his sheathed sword,
+he struck De Grandville with the flat of the scabbard.
+
+Henri's sword instantly flashed in the lamplight, and St. Prix drawing
+his rapier, they were instantly engaged in deadly combat. Both were
+expert swordsmen, and while one fought with the ferocity of hatred and
+disappointment, the arm of the other was nerved by a sense of wrong.
+The metallic ring of their blades was unintermitted, for neither
+paused to take breath, but, with teeth set and eyes glaring, thrust,
+parried, advanced, and fell back in the fierce ardor of the combat. At
+last, De Grandville, seeing an opportunity, sent his adversary's blade
+whirling through the air, and drawing back his weapon, prepared to
+thrust it through his breast.
+
+"Strike!" said St. Prix; "you have vanquished me in love and in arms,
+and there is nothing left me but to die."
+
+"Die, then, but on the field of battle, brave Raoul," said de
+Grandville, "and since I have deprived you of your sword, take mine; I
+shall be honored by the exchange."
+
+"Hold!" said a stern voice; and turning, Henri beheld with confusion
+the countenance of Marshal Saxe, who, attended by a file of
+musketeers, had entered the tent at the close of the duel. "You will
+give up your sword to this officer, Captain de Grandville," added he,
+pointing to a commissioned officer by whom he was accompanied. "Count
+de St. Prix, you will pick up your weapon, also, and surrender it.
+Officers who forget themselves so far as to seek each other's lives
+upon the eve of battle, with the enemy before them, are unworthy of
+command. This is matter for the provost marshal."
+
+And the old soldier seated himself at the table, and eyed the
+offenders angrily and sternly.
+
+"May it please your excellency," said St. Prix, "I alone deserve to
+suffer. I insulted the gentleman, and forced him to fight."
+
+"Forced him to fight?" said the marshal. "Hadn't he read the orders of
+the day?"
+
+"I do not claim your clemency, marshal," said Henri. "I committed this
+fault with my eyes open. But a man cannot always command his
+passions."
+
+"That's true, my lad. But what were you fighting about?"
+
+"A woman, your excellency," said St. Prix.
+
+"A woman! fools! a woman that's not to be had without fighting for
+isn't worth having. Well, well--boys will be boys. I pardon you on two
+conditions. In the first place, you must shake hands." Henri and Raoul
+advanced and joined their hands. "And in the next place, that you give
+a good account of yourselves to-morrow. _Sacre nom de Dieu_! I can ill
+spare two lads of spirit from the guards. And now," said the marshal,
+rising, after restoring their swords to the officers, "good night,
+gentlemen; and plenty of hard knocks to-morrow."
+
+The next day witnessed one of those terrible encounters, whose
+sanguinary prints make a more indelible impression on the page of
+history than the records of the more generous deeds of peaceful life.
+The greatest gallantry was displayed on both sides, and on the part of
+the French no officers were more distinguished for their valor than
+the two guardsmen whose encounter on the previous evening we have just
+related. Raoul de St. Prix, in the early part of the engagement, fell
+sword in hand at the head of his company, thus meeting with honor a
+fate he had earnestly desired. Henri de Grandville, in the course of
+the day, found himself in command of the regiment, every officer of
+higher rank having fallen. When the carnage had ceased, he laid a
+stand of captured colors at the feet of the commander-in-chief, and
+was complimented by Marshal Saxe at the head of the army, receiving
+assurance that his gallantry should be at once reported to the king.
+
+Flushed with triumph, the young guardsman flew to the presence of his
+mother, to receive her embrace and recount in modest terms the story
+of his deeds. She rejoiced in his safety, and sympathized with his
+joy. But all at once, as he made her the confident of other hopes, and
+enlarged on the prospect of his speedy union with Heloise de
+Clairville, her countenance changed, and her eyes became suffused with
+tears.
+
+"Dear Henri," said she, "I knew nothing of this. Why did you not
+sooner apprise me of this fatal passion?"
+
+"Fatal passion, dear mother! Why do you thus characterize the love I
+bear to the purest, the most beautiful of her sex?"
+
+"She is, indeed, all that you paint her, Henri; but you must learn the
+hard task of renouncing your hopes. You can never marry her."
+
+"And why so? Do you refuse your consent?"
+
+"Alas! no. But the Baron de Clairville--"
+
+"He regards me with a favorable eye. I have reason to think he knows
+of my attachment to his daughter, and approves of it. Even now, his
+congratulations had a marked meaning, which could hardly be
+ambiguous."
+
+"But a fatal, an insurmountable barrier lies between you and the
+object of your hopes."
+
+"Do not keep me in suspense," cried the young soldier, "Explain this
+mystery, I implore you."
+
+"Have you fortitude to listen to a dreadful secret, the possession of
+which has well nigh destroyed the life of your mother?"
+
+"God will give me strength to bear any stroke," replied Henri. "Thanks
+to your instruction and example, I have schooled myself to suffer,
+unrepining, whatever Providence, in its infinite wisdom, sees fitting
+to inflict. If I have a soul for the dangers of the field, I have
+also, I think, the courage to confront those trials that pierce the
+heart with keener agonies than any the steel of a foeman can inflict.
+Fear not to task me beyond my strength."
+
+"I will be as brief as possible," said the lady. "Your father, Henri,
+was of noble birth and possessed of fortune. My own share of the
+world's goods was small, and yet it was on this pittance alone that we
+were sustained, till the exertions of a generous friend procured you,
+under the name of De Grandville, (my maiden name,) a commission in the
+guards."
+
+"Then De Grandville was not the name of my father."
+
+"No--he belonged to the noble house of Montmorenci. The early years of
+our married life were passed in happiness that I always feared was too
+great to be enduring. It was brought to a bitter and miserable end.
+Deadly enemies--for the best and noblest have their foes--conspired
+against your father, and he was accused--falsely accused, mark me--of
+treason to his king and country. I will not tell you by what forgery
+and perjury he was made to appear guilty--but he was convicted--and
+sentenced--"
+
+"Sentenced!"
+
+"Ay, sentenced, and suffered. He died by the hands of _Monsieur de
+Paris_!"
+
+"_Monsieur de Paris_!"
+
+"The executioner!"
+
+Henri uttered a piercing cry, and covered his face with his hands. He
+remained a long time in this attitude, his frame convulsed by the
+agonies of grief, while his mother watched, with streaming eyes, the
+effect of her communication. At length he removed his hands, and
+raised his head. His countenance was deadly pale,--the only indication
+of the train of emotions which had just convulsed him,--but his look
+was firm and high.
+
+"Mother," said he, pressing her hand, "I thank you. It was better to
+learn this dreadful secret from your lips than from the words of
+another. Henceforth we will live for each other--we shall have a
+common sorrow and a common fate. I pray you to excuse me for a few
+moments. I will soon rejoin you, but I have first a duty to perform."
+
+The young guardsman passed from his mother's presence to that of the
+Baron de Clairville.
+
+"Welcome, welcome! my brave boy," said the old soldier. "You have
+fairly won your spurs."
+
+"Sir, you flatter me," replied Henri, gravely.
+
+"Not at all. Saxe himself says that more distinguished gallantry never
+fell beneath his notice."
+
+"You think then, baron, I can claim a post of honor and danger in the
+next engagement?"
+
+"You can lead the Forlorn Hope if you like."
+
+"Enough, baron. I came to ask your forgiveness."
+
+"My forgiveness!"
+
+"Yes, sir, for having wronged you unconsciously so lately as last
+evening."
+
+"Wronged me, and how, strange boy? you talk in riddles."
+
+"Last evening, sir, on the eve of battle, which might well,
+considering what followed, have been my last of life, I sought your
+daughter. Her manner, some unguarded words she dropped, emboldened me
+to declare a secret which I had hitherto kept fast locked in my
+breast. I threw myself at her feet, and told her that I loved her."
+
+"And she--"
+
+"Confessed that she loved me in return."
+
+"Henri! my boy--my son--my hero! this news makes me young again! it
+gladdens my old heart like the shout of victory upon a stricken field.
+Is this your offence? I freely pardon it."
+
+"You know not all, baron. You knew that I was a poor and obscure
+soldier of fortune."
+
+"The man who has distinguished himself as you have done this day,
+might claim the hand of an emperor's daughter."
+
+"Baron, between me and Heloise there lies a black shadow--a memory--a
+horror, which forbids our meeting. The very name I bear does not
+belong to me."
+
+"And how may you be named, young man, if not De Grandville?"
+
+"Henri de Montmorenci," replied the young soldier.
+
+"De Montmorenci!" cried the baron. "That is a noble and historic name.
+The house of Montmorenci has been well represented in the field."
+
+"_And on the scaffold_!" added Henri, with deep emotion.
+
+"The scaffold!" exclaimed the baron. "Yes, yes; I remember now a
+dreadful tragedy. But _he_ suffered unjustly."
+
+"No matter," answered Henri. "The ignominious punishment remains a
+stain upon our escutcheon. Men will point to me as the son of a
+condemned and executed traitor. Could I forget for a moment the
+tragedy which has rendered my poor mother an animated image of death,
+the finger of the world would recall my wandering thoughts to the
+horrors of the fact. The scaffold, with all its bloody paraphernalia,
+would rise up before me."
+
+"Henri, you are too sensitive," said the baron. "The best and bravest
+of France (alas for our history!) have closed their lives upon the
+scaffold. I believe your father innocent. If it were otherwise, you
+have redeemed the honor of your race. You deserve my daughter's
+hand--take her and be happy."
+
+"Make her the companion of my agony! Never."
+
+"Come with me," said the baron; "her smiles shall dispel these gloomy
+fantasies."
+
+"No, no! urge me not," said the young guardsman. "Let me return to my
+poor mother. She has need of all my consolation. I renounce forever my
+ill-fated attachment. Heaven, for its own wise purposes, has chosen to
+afflict me. Farewell, baron; I thank you for your kindness--your
+generous friendship. You and Heloise will soon learn that Henri de
+Montmorenci is no more. After the next battle, if you seek me out, you
+will find me where the French dead lie thickest on the field."
+
+"Noble-hearted fellow!" cried the baron, when Henri had left him. "He
+ought to be a field marshal."
+
+"Marshal Saxe requests your immediate presence, baron," said an
+aide-de-camp, presenting himself with a salute.
+
+"Monsieur de Baron," said the commander-in-chief, when De Clairville
+had obeyed the summons, "I have chosen you to carry my despatches to
+the king; you will find yourself honorably mentioned therein, and I
+think the favor of royalty will reward your merit."
+
+The baron bowed low as he received the despatches from the hand of the
+marshal, and was soon ready for the journey, first taking a hasty
+farewell of his daughter, whom he commended to the care of Madame de
+Grandville, (or rather Montmorenci,) during his absence.
+
+In five days thereafter, he reported himself to the marshal, and was
+then at liberty to attend to his private concerns. He found Heloise in
+the company of Henri and his mother, and the gloom depicted on their
+countenances presented a singular contrast to the radiant joy that
+sparkled in the eyes and smiled on the lips of the genial and
+warm-hearted old soldier. He kissed his daughter, saluted Madame de
+Grandville, and then, shaking the young guardsman warmly by the hand,
+exclaimed,--
+
+"Good news, Henri; I bring you a budget of them. The king has heard of
+your gallantry, and inquired into your story."
+
+"Heaven bless him!" exclaimed the mother.
+
+"The memory of your father," continued the baron, "has been vindicated
+by a parliamentry decree affirming his innocence. His forfeited
+estates are restored to his family; and I bring you, under the king's
+seal, your commission as full colonel in the French Guards, and
+letters patent of nobility, _Count_ Henri de Montmorenci!"
+
+Henri and his mother were nearly overwhelmed by this good news; while
+Heloise clung to her father's arm for support.
+
+"No fainting, girl," said the happy baron. "That will never do for a
+soldier's wife. Here, take her, count, make her happy--and let us hear
+no more of your volunteering on Forlorn Hopes--at least, during the
+honeymoon."
+
+We need not add that the baron's injunctions were implicitly obeyed.
+
+
+
+
+PERSONAL SATISFACTION.
+
+
+Mrs. Tubbs had been a very fine woman--she was still good looking at
+the period of which we write, but then--
+
+    "Fanny was younger once than she is now,
+    And prettier of course."
+
+She had been married some years. Tubbs was a gentleman farmer, and
+lived out in Roxbury, when land was cheaper there than it is now, and
+a man of moderate means could own a few acres within three miles of
+Boston State House. On retiring from the wholesale West India goods
+business, he had purchased a little estate in the vicinity of the
+Norfolk House, and raised vegetables and other "notions" with the
+usual success attendant upon the agricultural experiments of gentlemen
+amateurs; that is, his potatoes cost him about half a dollar a peck,
+and his quinces ninepence apiece. He had a greenhouse one quarter of a
+mile long, and kept a fire in it all the year round, at the suggestion
+of a rascally gardener, whose brother kept a wood and coal yard. We
+could tell some droll stories about Tubbs's gardening, if they were to
+the purpose. We will mention, however, that when he went into the
+vegetable business he was innocent as a lamb, and verdant as one of
+his own green peapods, and of course he made some curious mistakes. He
+was not aware that the infant bean, like the pious Ęneas, was "in the
+habit of carrying its father on its back," and so thinking that nature
+had made a mistake, he reversed the order of the young sprouts, and
+reinterred the aged beans. This was one of his many blunders. However,
+we have nothing to do with his gardening. We have said he was innocent
+as a lamb, but he was by no means so pacific; on the contrary, his
+temper was as inflammable as gun cotton--the slightest spark would set
+it in a blaze.
+
+To return to Mrs. Tubbs, whom we have most ungallantly left in the
+lurch since the first paragraph. She had been into Boston one day,
+shopping, and returned home in the omnibus. She sat between two young
+men. The one on her right was modest and well-behaved, while the other
+was entirely the reverse. He might have been drinking--he might have
+been partially insane--these are charitable suppositions; but at all
+events, he had the impertinence to address Mrs. Tubbs in a low tone,
+audible only to herself. He muttered some compliment to her
+appearance--talked a little nonsense--inoffensive in itself, but
+intolerable as coming from a stranger. Mrs. Tubbs made no reply, but
+she was glad to spring from the conveyance when the driver pulled up
+at the Norfolk House. To her great joy she espied the faithful Tubbs,
+attired in a _blouse_, and wheeling a barrow full of gravel down
+Bartlett Street, with all the dignity of a gentleman farmer, conscious
+of being a useful, if not an ornamental, member of society. She
+accosted him with,--
+
+"Tubbs, love, I've got something to tell you."
+
+Tubbs relinquished the handles of the barrow, and sat down in the
+gravel.
+
+"Mr. Tubbs!" screamed the lady, "you've got your best pantaloons on."
+
+"Never mind, my dear; out with your story, for I'm busy."
+
+"Mr. Tubbs! I've been insulted!"
+
+Mr. Tubbs's head instantly became as red as one of his own blood
+beets.
+
+"Who is the miscreant?" he yelled, jumping up.
+
+"A young man who sat next to me in the omnibus."
+
+"Describe him!"
+
+"Dark hair and eyes, with a black stock, light waistcoat, dark-colored
+coat and pantaloons--"
+
+"Which way did he go?" interrupted Mr. Tubbs.
+
+"Into the hourly office."
+
+"'Tis well! Mrs. T., I'll have his heart's blood!"
+
+"Now, T., be calm!" interposed his better half.
+
+"Mrs. T., I will be calm," was the dignified reply, "calm as the
+surface of Mount Ętna, on the eve of an eruption. Farewell, love, for
+a moment. Have an eye to the wheelbarrow while I have a settlement
+with this scoundrel!"
+
+With these words, Tubbs marched up the hill. He entered the hourly
+office, and looked round him. His first glance lighted on a young man
+who answered the description given by Mrs. Tubbs; but he wished to
+make assurance doubly sure, and so he accosted him politely,--
+
+"Fine growing weather, sir."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied the stranger.
+
+"Peas are doing finely," said Mr. Tubbs.
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"If the weather holds, we can plant corn next week."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"Pray, sir," continued Tubbs, "did you come out in the last coach?"
+
+"I did, sir."
+
+"Was there a lady in the coach?"
+
+"There was, sir. I recollect a lady sat next to me."
+
+"_You scoundrel! what did you mean by insulting my wife_?"
+
+This question was followed by a blow, which sent the young gentleman
+sprawling on the floor. Tubbs stood him up, and knocked him down again
+and again, like a man practising on a single pin in a bowling alley.
+The sufferer showed some fight, but Tubbs's blood was up, and he
+hammered down all opposition. The drivers looked on in admiration to
+see "Old Tubbs vollop the chap as had insulted his wife," and so he
+had it all his own way. He dragged the offender out of the office, and
+finished him off on the sidewalk. He was engaged in this laudable
+occupation, when his better half, tired of mounting guard over the
+wheelbarrow, appeared upon the field.
+
+"Mr. Tubbs!" she screamed.
+
+"Wait a minute, my dear. I've only done one side of his head."
+
+"But, Mr. Tubbs! _That wasn't the man_!"
+
+Tubbs suspended operations, and stood fixed in horror. The remains of
+the injured individual were taken into the hourly office. Then came
+remorse and apologies unaccepted and unacceptable--a lawyer's
+letter--an action for assault and battery, and heavy damages. The real
+offender had escaped, and was never heard of; the victim was the
+well-behaved young gentleman, who had sat on Mrs. Tubbs's right. Her
+description, which had answered for both, had occasioned the dilemma,
+which, while it proved an expensive lesson to Mr. Tubbs, was also an
+effectual one, and saved him from many a rash and hasty action, and
+induced him ever afterwards to adopt Colonel Crockett's golden maxim,
+"_Be always sure you're right, then go ahead_."
+
+
+
+
+THE CASTLE ON THE RHINE.
+
+
+In one of those old feudal castles, which, perched, like eagle nests,
+upon the picturesque hills that overhang
+
+    "The wide and winding Rhine,"
+
+and with their crumbling and ivy-grown towers, arrest the eyes of the
+delighted traveller, as he views them from the deck of the gliding
+steamer, there dwelt, some years ago, the Baron Von Rosenburg and his
+lady Mathilde. The baron was a very proud man, and continually
+boasting of his descent from a "long and noble line of martial
+ancestors," gentlemen who were wont, in the "good old times," to wear
+steel on head, back, and breast, and each of whom supported a score of
+retainers in his feudal castle. Where the money comes from to support
+a princely housekeeping, when the head of the family has no property
+or employment, is sometimes a mystery nowadays; but no such doubt
+attached to the resources of the baron's ancestors. These gentlemen,
+when short of provisions, would sally forth at the head of their
+followers, and capture the first drove of cattle they encountered,
+without stopping to inquire into the ownership. Sometimes they made
+excursions on the river, and levied contributions on the little barks
+of traders who often carried valuable cargoes from one Rhine town to
+another.
+
+But the privileges of the robber knights and bandit nobles were sadly
+shorn by the progressive spirit of modern civilization. With a total
+disregard of the immunities of chivalry, modern legislators declared
+that it was as great a crime for a baron to seize on a herd of cattle
+as for a peasant to steal a sheep. Hence the great families along the
+Rhine went into decay. The castles were dismantled, many noble names
+died out, very few remained, the representatives of the ancestral
+glory of olden times.
+
+Among them was the baron. He had been a soldier and a courtier in his
+youth, had spent some time abroad, and was about forty when he married
+a lady of the same age, and settled down in the old family castle of
+Rosenberg. Here he lorded it over the surrounding valley, the simple
+inhabitants of which, though exempt from all feudal obligations, yet
+in some sort regarded themselves as vassals of the baron. They made
+him presents of fish, accompanied him to the chase, and lent him a
+willing hand, whenever he required assistance at the castle.
+
+The baron, though he had the wherewithal to live comfortably enough,
+was yet a poor representative of the race he sprang from. His army
+consisted of a few farm servants, his cavalry of a ploughboy on a
+cart-horse, and his navy of a fishing boat. But, on the whole, he was
+happy. He passed his days either in trimming his vines or hunting, and
+his evenings in poring over mildewed parchments or books of heraldry,
+hunting up long pedigrees, and puffing a monstrous meerschaum till the
+atmosphere was as dense as the interior of a smokehouse. The lady
+Mathilde embroidered from morning till night.
+
+They had, however, a common source of grief. Fate had not blessed them
+with children. The lady yearned for the companionship of a daughter;
+the baron mourned at the prospect of the extinction of his name for
+want of a male heir.
+
+It was while pondering on this subject one day, as they were strolling
+out together, that the baron and his lady came upon the cottage of an
+old soldier named Karl Mueller, who cultivated a little vineyard not
+far from the castle.
+
+The old man was seated on a bench before his door, smoking, and so
+deeply plunged in revery, that he was not aware of the approach of
+visitors till the baron touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"In a brown study, Karl?" said the baron.
+
+"I have enough to think about," returned the soldier "I'm getting old,
+and one thing troubles me."
+
+"What's that, my good fellow?"
+
+"Why, you see, baron, I'm not alone here."
+
+"Not alone?"
+
+"No, sir--I--have--I have a little child here."
+
+"I never knew you were married, Karl."
+
+"Nor was I, your honor. For I always thought an infantry soldier ought
+to be in marching order, and never have more baggage than he could
+carry in his knapsack. No, no; the child is none of mine."
+
+"But it is related to you," said the baroness.
+
+"It is my grandchild, madam," replied the soldier, fixing his eyes on
+the lady; "and the child of as brave a man as ever faced the fire of
+the enemy. He might have been a field marshal, for the matter of that.
+I saw him at Oberstadt when the hussars went down to charge the
+enemy's light cavalry. Faith, madam, they made daylight shine through
+their ranks. Their curved sabres cut them up as the sickle does the
+corn. I saw him, the girl's father, madam, go into that affair with
+the hussars; but he came not out safe. It was pitiful to see his
+uniform all dabbled with blood, as he lay on the ground, and to see
+his pale lips quivering, as he prayed for water. I gave him the last
+drop in my canteen, and I swore I'd protect the child. But I fear I'm
+getting too old for the task."
+
+The baroness, whose eyes were filled with tears, turned to her
+husband, and asked,--
+
+"Shall we not give a shelter to the child of a brave man?"
+
+The baron nodded, and the proposal was accepted by Karl, who retired
+into his cottage, and immediately reappeared, bringing forth a
+beautiful girl of ten, with fair hair and blue eyes, and a form of
+graceful symmetry.
+
+"A girl! nonsense!" said the baron, in a tone of disappointment. But
+the baroness folded the child in her arms with rapture. The child
+responded to the caresses of the lady with equal ardor.
+
+So the little Adelaide was soon domesticated in the castle which her
+frolic spirit filled with gayety. The baroness renewed her youth in
+gazing upon hers, and the baron never scolded her, even when she took
+his pipe out of his mouth, or rummaged among his parchments.
+
+As she grew up to womanhood, she became more serious and thoughtful.
+She was anxious to learn every thing touching her father, but on this
+subject the baroness could give her no information; and Karl, her
+grandfather, seemed equally averse to speaking of it. When hard
+pressed, he promised to speak out at some future time.
+
+One day she was summoned in great haste to the cottage of old Karl.
+The old man had suddenly been taken ill, and required the presence of
+his granddaughter. It was evident, at a glance, that he was on his
+death bed.
+
+"Adelaide," said he, "forgive me, before I die, that I may depart in
+peace."
+
+"Forgive you, dear grandfather! am I not deeply indebted to you?"
+
+"I should have reposed more confidence in you; I should have spoken to
+you about your parents."
+
+"My father?" asked Adelaide.
+
+"Was a brave and good man. But of your mother--your good mother--she
+was--"
+
+Here a spasm interrupted his utterance, and he lay back on his pillow
+gasping for breath. After a brief space he seemed to revive again, and
+made strong efforts to express himself, but his breath failed him. He
+motioned to Adelaide to fetch him writing materials, and while she
+held a sheet of paper on a book before him, he essayed with feeble
+fingers to trace a sentence with a pen. But the rapid approach of
+death foiled all his endeavors to communicate a secret that evidently
+lay close to his heart; and while the young girl bent over him in an
+agony of grief, he gently sighed away his last. The baron and baroness
+found their _protégée_, an hour afterwards, still sorrowing by the
+bedside of her early friend and protector. With gentle violence they
+removed her from the chamber of death, and took her home to the
+castle, where they gave directions to the proper persons to take
+charge of the old soldier's remains, and inter them with that decent
+respect which was due to his character and station. Among his effects
+was found a will, in which he made Adelaide his heiress, bequeathing
+to her his little landed estate, and a small sum in gold, the produce
+of his toil and frugality. This event cast a gloom over the spirits of
+the young maiden, from which, however, her religious persuasions, the
+attention of her friends, and the elasticity of her youth, eventually
+relieved her.
+
+The old castle on the Rhine was gay once more, when Rudolph Ernstein,
+a nephew of the baron, a gay young captain of hussars, whose
+gallantry and beauty had given him reputation at Vienna, came to pay a
+long visit to his uncle. He was a high-spirited and accomplished young
+man, had served with distinction, was a devoted admirer of the ladies,
+and one of those military Adonises who are born to conquest. He was
+charmed to find domesticated beneath the old roof tree so fair and
+lovable a girl as Adelaide, and of course did his best to render his
+society agreeable to her. He sang to her songs of his own writing, to
+airs of his own composition, accompanied on his guitar; he told her
+tales of strange lands that he had visited, of cavalry skirmishes in
+which he had participated, sketched her favorite scenes in pencil, and
+offered to teach her the newest dances in vogue at Vienna. He was a
+dangerous companion to a young girl whose imagination needed but a
+spark to kindle it, and for a time she indulged in the wild hope that
+she had made a conquest of Rudolph. But then her reason told her, that
+even if he loved her, it would be impossible for a young man of family
+to offer his hand to an almost portionless girl, about whose origin a
+veil of mystery seemed wrapped. The names of her parents, even, had
+never been disclosed to her, by the lips of probably the only man who
+knew her history, and those lips were now cold and mute in death.
+Hence the little gleam of sunshine which had for a moment penetrated
+her heart was speedily quenched in a deeper darkness than that which
+reigned in it before, and she could not help viewing the visit of
+Rudolph as an ominous event.
+
+One morning, she was witness to a scene which dashed out the last
+faint glimmering of hope. They were all seated at a huge oaken table,
+from which the servants had just removed the apparatus of the morning
+meal.
+
+"Rudolph," said the baron, after lighting his pipe,--an operation of
+great solemnity and deliberation, and taking a few whiffs to make sure
+that its contents were duly ignited,--"Rudolph, do you know why I sent
+for you to Rosenburg?"
+
+"Why, sir," replied the hussar, "I suppose it was because you really
+have a sort of regard for an idle, good-for-nothing fellow, whose
+redeeming quality is an attachment to a very kind old uncle, and whose
+nonsense and good spirits are perhaps a partial compensation for the
+trouble he gives every body in this tumble-down old castle."
+
+"Tumble-down old castle!" exclaimed the baron, in high dudgeon, the
+latter part of the soldier's speech cancelling the former; "why, you
+jackanapes, it will stand for centuries. It resisted the cannon of
+Napoleon, and it bids defiance to the battering of time. Yes, sir,
+Rosenburg will stand long after your great-great-grandchildren are
+superannuated."
+
+"I am not likely to be blessed in the way you hint at, uncle," said
+the soldier, carelessly. "I am likely, for aught I see, to die a
+bachelor."
+
+"Nonsense!" said the baron. "What's to become of your family name? Do
+you think I will allow it to die out, like the Pumpernickels, the
+Snaphausens, and the Ollenstoffenburgers? No, boy. I sent for you to
+tell you that I have contracted for your hand with my friend the Baron
+Von Steinberg."
+
+"Really, sir, you dispose of me in a very cavalier way."
+
+"That's because you're too careless or lazy to look out for yourself,"
+retorted the baron. "But then you can have no possible objection to
+the present match. The fair Julia is just twenty--eyes, you dog--lips,
+you rascal--a shape, you blockhead, to bewitch an anchorite. And then
+she has the gelt--the money, my boy."
+
+"A commodity of which I happen to be minus," said the soldier.
+
+"Arn't you my heir?" asked the baron.
+
+"You are very kind," said the hussar, with a slight sigh.
+
+He glanced at Adelaide, but he read no sentiment on her calm and
+pensive countenance.
+
+"She's as cold as a glacier on the Donderberg!" he muttered to
+himself.
+
+"Well, sir--you haven't given me an answer," said the baron,
+impatiently.
+
+"My dear uncle," said the soldier, jumping up, and snatching his
+fowling-piece, "it's a glorious morning for sport; and I'm much
+mistaken if I don't add a half dozen brace of birds to your bill of
+fare to-day."
+
+"But the fair Julia Von Steinberg?" said the baron.
+
+"O! I forgot," said Rudolph. "I'm entirely in your hands. Do with me
+as you please. My profession, you know, has given me habits of
+obedience. I suppose I must sacrifice myself. Good morning."
+
+And away he went to enjoy his sport upon the mountains.
+
+"Young, lovely, and rich!" said poor Adelaide, with a sigh, when she
+had regained her room. "If this be true, she is indeed worthy of
+Ernstein. He will love her--they will be happy--and I--I can but wish
+them joy, and die."
+
+There was great preparation in the castle Von Rosenburg, that day
+week, for the reception of the prospective bride. Every thing was
+cleaned and furbished up, from battlement to dungeon keep. An old flag
+with the family arms was hoisted from the rampart, and the butler, who
+had served in the wars of the Alliance, mounted an old swivel on the
+ramparts with the intention of firing it off, on the approach of the
+old family carriage of the Von Steinbergs, Captain Rudolph Von
+Ernstein, in his splendid hussar uniform, looked the beau ideal of a
+soldier lover. Even the baron was rejuvenated by a court suit that had
+not seen the light since the nuptials of Maria Louisa and the Emperor
+Napoleon.
+
+At last the carriage appeared. The villagers and hangers on of the
+establishment hurrahed in the court yard as it drew up, the old butler
+applied the match to the priming of the swivel and was prostrated by
+the discharge, while the baron came near tumbling over his sword in
+his eagerness to welcome his old friend and his old friend's daughter.
+
+The Baron Von Steinberg alighted and bowed his thanks; while Captain
+Rudolph handed out the lovely Julia. As her light foot touched the
+pavement, Adelaide advanced to offer a bouquet; at one glance she
+appreciated the exquisite beauty of her rival, and dropping the
+flowers, retired to an obscure corner of the court yard to conceal her
+anguish and despair.
+
+The festive train swept into the castle. All was gayety and uproar
+within doors. The baron could scarce contain the transports of his
+joy; and Von Steinberg was equally excited. The excitement, however,
+seemed to be too much for the fair Julia, whose cheek was paler than
+the satin robe she wore, while Rudolph, perhaps from sympathy, was
+uneasy and agitated.
+
+At last the bell of the castle was rung for dinner, and the party
+proceeded to the great hall. But Adelaide did not make her appearance.
+Search was made for her; she was not in her apartment. An angry flush
+overspread the brow of old Rosenburg at this announcement, and after
+some minutes passed in waiting for her appearance, he ordered dinner
+to be served without her. The repast was not a very gay one,
+notwithstanding the efforts of the master of the house to make it so.
+Night had long fallen, and Adelaide did not reappear. The family, from
+being vexed, now became alarmed, and it was determined to go in search
+of her. Rudolph and the baron went forth with two servants and torches
+to scour the woods, after vainly searching through the castle. One of
+the men went on in advance. He had been gone but a short time when he
+came back speechless with grief and amazement. Rudolph and his uncle
+pushed forward through the thickets, and on the banks of a small
+stream, dammed up to form a lake, they found the bonnet and shawl of
+the missing girl.
+
+"Good God!" exclaimed Rudolph, "she has destroyed herself. I have
+noticed a strange wildness in her appearance for several days past; in
+a fit of mental aberration she has wandered away, and here found her
+death."
+
+A piercing scream was heard at this moment. The baroness, who had
+followed them, had recognized the garments of Adelaide.
+
+"My child! my child!" she shrieked, "my own! my beautiful! she is no
+more."
+
+"This is worse and worse," said the baron, wringing his hands. "This
+will make us all mad."
+
+But at this moment a boat was seen approaching. It was the miller, who
+brought with him the body of Adelaide, dripping as it had been drawn
+from the water. He laid her fair form upon the bank. The baroness, who
+could not be restrained, threw herself beside her, and kissed her pale
+lips. Rudolph, too, seized the cold hands.
+
+"She lives!" he exclaimed. "She is not lost to us!"
+
+"Rudolph--dear Rudolph!" murmured the poor girl.
+
+"My child! my child! she lives!" cried the baroness.
+
+And it was indeed so. She had thrown herself into the water, indeed,
+but the miller, who happened to be at hand, had flown to her rescue,
+and she was now, by the united efforts of her friends, restored to
+consciousness.
+
+"Dear, dear Adelaide!" cried the baroness; "your life repays me now
+for all my sufferings. Yes, dearest, you are my own, my only child.
+Yes, baron," she added, noticing the incredulous expression of her
+husband--"the supposed death of a daughter has wrung from a mother's
+heart the despairing cry that betrayed her secret. In former days, I
+married, secretly, Colonel Schonfeldt, a brave soldier of the emperor,
+against whom my parents cherished a deadly enmity. He fell upon the
+field of battle, and this poor girl, the fruit of our love, was
+committed to the hands of strangers, till such time as I could take
+her to my heart. I avow it without shame, nor can you, baron, whose
+noble qualities won my heart, reproach me with the love I bear this
+dear girl."
+
+"She is my child now," said the baron, "as well as yours. Let us take
+her back to the castle; she is a precious charge."
+
+"I will see to her," said Rudolph, "and it shall not be my fault if
+she ever have another protector."
+
+So the party regained the castle, where Von Steinberg and Julia were
+anxiously awaiting their return.
+
+When Adelaide had been carefully attended to, Rudolph sought his uncle
+and guests in the great hall.
+
+"Miss Julia Von Steinberg," said the soldier, "since confessions are
+the order of the night, I must place mine on record. I met you to-day
+in obedience to orders, believing my heart was my own. The event of
+to-night has told me too truly that I had unconsciously lost it. But I
+am a man of honor, and if you will accept my hand without my heart,
+it is yours."
+
+"Captain Ernstein," replied the beauty, "I thank you for your frank
+confession. I cannot possibly accept your hand without your heart.
+Nay--do not frown, father--I have a secret for your ear, and if you do
+not wish to wreck your daughter's happiness, you will urge me no
+further."
+
+Von Steinberg frowned, and pshawed, and pished, and then, clearing his
+voice, addressed the baron.
+
+"Come, Von Rosenberg," said he, "confess that we have been acting like
+a couple of old fools, in trying our hand at match making--it is a
+business for the young people themselves, and not for old soldiers
+like us. Say, shall we reduce the mutineers to obedience, or shall we
+let them have it their own way?"
+
+"Circumstances alter cases," answered the baron. "When I proposed for
+Julia's hand, I didn't know my wife had a daughter to marry. And if
+that were not the case, I am inclined to think the secret alluded to
+by the young lady, would prove an insuperable obstacle to the
+ratification of our treaty."
+
+This secret was no other than a love affair between the fair Julia and
+a certain count who had waltzed with her at the baths of Baden-Baden,
+the preceding summer. We are glad to say that the flirtation thus
+happily commenced ended in matrimony. As for Rudolph, he was shortly
+after united to the fair Adelaide, on which occasion the baron gave
+such a rouse as the old towers of Von Rosenberg had not known since
+the rollicking days of its first feudal masters. It was illuminated at
+every window and loophole, so that the waters of the Rhine rolled
+beneath it a sea of fire, or as if their channels were overflowed
+with generous Asmanshausen; and the old butler discharged his swivel
+so many times that he had to be taken down from the battlements and
+drenched with Rhenish to preserve his life.
+
+Thus ended all that is worthy commemorating in the modern history of
+the Castle on the Rhine.
+
+
+
+
+LOVE IN A COTTAGE.
+
+
+"Tell me, Charley, who is that fascinating creature in blue that
+waltzes so divinely?" asked young Frank Belmont of his friend Charles
+Hastings, as they stood "playing wallflower" for the moment, at a
+military ball.
+
+"Julia Heathcote," answered Charles, with a half sigh, "an old flame
+of mine. I proposed, but she refused me."
+
+"On what ground?"
+
+"Simply because I had a comfortable income. Her head is full of
+romantic notions, and she dreams of nothing but love in a cottage. She
+contends that poverty is essential to happiness--and money its bane."
+
+"Have you given up all hopes of her?"
+
+"Entirely; in fact, I'm engaged."
+
+"Then you have no objections to my addressing this dear, romantic
+angel?"
+
+"None whatever. But I see my _fiancée_--excuse me--I must walk through
+the next quadrille with her."
+
+Frank Belmont was a stranger in Boston--a New Yorker--immensely rich
+and fashionable, but his reputation had not preceded him, and Charley
+Hastings was the only man who knew him in New England. He procured an
+introduction to the beauty from one of the managers, and soon danced
+and talked himself into her good graces. In fact, it was a clear case
+of love at first sight on both sides.
+
+The enamoured pair were sitting apart, enjoying a most delightful
+_tźte-ą-tźte_. Suddenly Belmont heaved a deep sigh.
+
+"Why do you sigh, Mr. Belmont?" asked the fair Julia, somewhat pleased
+with this proof of sensibility. "Is not this a gay scene?"
+
+"Alas! yes," replied Belmont, gloomily; "but fate does not permit me
+to mingle habitually in scenes like this. They only make my ordinary
+life doubly gloomy--and even here I deem to see the shadow of a fiend
+waving me away. What right have I to be here?"
+
+"What fiend do you allude to?" asked Miss Heathcote, with increasing
+interest.
+
+"A fiend hardly presentable in good society," replied Belmont,
+bitterly. "One could tolerate a Mephistophiles--a dignified fiend,
+with his pockets full of money--but my tormentor, if personified,
+would appear with seedy boots and a shocking bad hat."
+
+"How absurd!"
+
+"It is too true," sighed Belmont, "and the name of this fiend is
+_Poverty_!"
+
+"Are you poor?"
+
+"Yes, madam. I am poor, and when I would fain render myself agreeable
+in the eyes of beauty--in the eyes of one I could love, this fiend
+whispers me, 'Beware! you have nothing to offer her but love in a
+cottage.'"
+
+"Mr. Belmont," said Julia, with sparkling eyes, and a voice of unusual
+animation, "although there are sordid souls in this world, who only
+judge of the merits of an individual by his pecuniary possessions, I
+am not one of that number. I respect poverty; there is something
+highly poetical about it, and I imagine that happiness is oftener
+found in the humble cottage than beneath the palace roof."
+
+Belmont appeared enchanted with this encouraging avowal. The next
+day, after cautioning his friend Charley to say nothing of his actual
+circumstances, he called on the widow Heathcote and her fair daughter
+in the character of the "poor gentleman." The widow had very different
+notions from her romantic offspring, and when Belmont candidly
+confessed his poverty on soliciting permission to address Julia, he
+was very politely requested to change the subject, and never mention
+it again.
+
+The result of all this manoeuvring was an elopement; the belle of
+the ball jumping out of a chamber window on a shed, and coming down a
+flight of steps to reach her lover, for the sake of being romantic,
+when she might just as well have walked out of the front door.
+
+The happy couple passed a day in New York city, and then Frank took
+his beloved to his "cottage."
+
+An Irish hack conveyed them to a miserable shanty in the environs of
+New York, where they alighted, and Frank, escorting the bride into the
+apartment which served for parlor, kitchen, and drawing room, and was
+neither papered nor carpeted, introduced her to his mother, much in
+the way Claude Melnotte presents Pauline. The old woman, who was
+peeling potatoes, hastily wiped her hands and face with a greasy
+apron, and saluted her "darter," as she called her, on both cheeks.
+
+"Can it be possible," thought Julia, "that this vulgar creature is my
+Belmont's mother?"
+
+"Frank!" screamed the old woman, "you'd better go right up stairs and
+take off them clothes--for the boy's been sent arter 'em more'n fifty
+times. Frank borried them clothes, ma'am," she added to Julia, by way
+of explanation, "to look smart when he went down east."
+
+The bridegroom retired on this hint, and soon reappeared in a pair of
+faded nankeen pantaloons, reaching to about the calf of the leg, a
+very shabby black coat, out at the elbows, a ragged black vest, and,
+instead of his varnished leather boots, a pair of immense cowhide
+brogans.
+
+"Now," said he, sitting quietly down by the cooking stove, "I begin to
+feel at home. Ah! this is delightful, isn't it, dearest?" and he
+warbled,--
+
+    "Though never so humble, there's no place like home."
+
+Julia's heart swelled so that she could not utter a word.
+
+"Dearest," said Frank, "I think you told me you had no objection to
+smoking?"
+
+"None in the least," said the bride; "I rather like the flavor of a
+cigar."
+
+"O, a cigar!" replied Belmont; "that would never do for a poor man."
+
+And O, horror! he produced an old clay pipe, and filling it from a
+little newspaper parcel of tobacco, began to smoke with a keen relish.
+
+"Dinner! dinner!" he exclaimed at length; "ah! thank you, mother; I'm
+as hungry as a bear. Codfish and potatoes, Julia--not very tempting
+fare--but what of that? our aliment is love!"
+
+"Yes, and by way of treat," added the old woman, "I've been and gone
+and bought a whole pint of Albany ale, and three cream cakes, from the
+candy shop next block."
+
+Poor Julia pleaded indisposition, and could not eat a mouthful. Before
+Belmont, however, the codfish and potatoes, and the ale, and cream
+cakes disappeared with a very unromantic and unlover-like velocity. At
+the close of the meal, a thundering double knock was heard at the
+door.
+
+"Come in!" cried Belmont.
+
+A low-browed man, in a green waistcoat, entered.
+
+"Now, Misther Belmont," he exclaimed, in a strong Hibernian accent,
+"are ye ready to go to work? By the powers! if I don't see ye sailed
+to-morrow on the shopboard, I'll discharge ye without a character--and
+ye shall starve on the top of that."
+
+"To-morrow morning, Mr. Maloney," replied Belmont, meekly, "I'll be at
+my post."
+
+"And it'll be mighty healthy for you to do that same," replied the man
+as he retired.
+
+"Belmont, speak--tell me," gasped Julia, "who is that man--that
+loafer?"
+
+"He is my employer," answered Belmont, smiling.
+
+"And his profession?"
+
+"He is a tailor."
+
+"And you?"
+
+"Am a journeyman tailor, at your service--a laborious and thankless
+calling it ever was to me--but now, dearest, as I drive the hissing
+goose across the smoking seam, I shall think of my own angel and my
+dear cottage, and be happy."
+
+That night Julia retired weeping to her room in the attic.
+
+"That 'ere counterpin, darter," said the old woman, "I worked with
+these here old hands. Ain't it putty? I hope you'll sleep well here.
+There's a broken pane of glass, but I've put one of Frank's old hats
+in it, and I don't think you'll feel the draught. There used to be a
+good many rats here, but I don't think they'll trouble you now, for
+Frank's been a pizinin' of 'em."
+
+Left alone, Julia threw herself into a chair, and burst into a flood
+of tears. Even Belmont had ceased to be attractive in her eyes--the
+stern privations that surrounded her banished all thoughts of love.
+The realities of life had cured her in one day of all her Quixotic
+notions.
+
+"Well, Julia, how do you like poverty and love in a cottage?" asked
+Belmont, entering in his bridal dress.
+
+"Not so well, sir, as you seem to like that borrowed suit," answered
+the bride, reddening with vexation.
+
+"Very well; you shall suffer it no longer. My carriage awaits your
+orders at the door."
+
+"Your carriage, indeed!"
+
+"Yes, dearest, it waits but for you, to bear us to Belmont Hall, my
+lovely villa on the Hudson."
+
+"And your mother?"
+
+"I have no mother, alas! The old woman down stairs is an old servant
+of the family."
+
+"Then you've been deceiving me, Frank--how wicked!"
+
+"It was all done with a good motive. You were not born to endure a
+life of privation, but to shine the ornament of an elegant and refined
+circle. I hope you will not love me the less when you learn that I am
+worth nearly half a million--that's the melancholy fact, and I can't
+help it."
+
+"O Frank!" cried the beautiful girl, and hid her face in his bosom.
+
+She presided with grace at the elegant festivities of Belmont Hall,
+and seemed to support her husband's wealth and luxurious style of
+living with the greatest fortitude and resignation, never complaining
+of her comforts, nor murmuring a wish for living in a cottage.
+
+
+
+
+THE CAREER OF AN ARTIST.
+
+     I woke up one morning and found myself
+     famous.--BYRON.
+
+
+Julian Montfort was a farmer's boy; bred up to the plough handle and
+cart tail. His father and mother were plain, honest people, of
+hard-working habits and limited ideas, and without the slightest dash
+of romance in their temperaments. Their house, their lands were
+unprepossessing in appearance. The soil was impoverished by long and
+illiberal culture; and old Montfort had a true old-fashioned prejudice
+against trees. Instead of smiling hedgerows, with here and there a
+weeping elm or plumy evergreen to cast their graceful shadows upon the
+pasture land, his acres were enclosed with harsh stone walls, or an
+unpicturesque Virginia fence with its zigzag of rude rails. The farmer
+had an equal prejudice against books, "book larnin', and book-larned
+men." Of course, with these ideas, Julian's education was limited to a
+few quarters' schooling under an old pedagogue, whose native language
+was Dutch, and who never took very kindly to the English tongue.
+Besides, teaching was only an episode with him; for his vocation was
+that of a clergyman, and he held forth on Sundays in alternate Dutch
+and English to his little congregation--as is still the custom in many
+of the small agricultural parishes in New York State, where the scene
+of our veritable story lies.
+
+Our hero, young Julian, early began to show a restiveness under the
+training he received, which sadly perplexed his plain matter-of-fact
+father. The latter could not conceive why the boy should sometimes
+leave his plough in the furrow, and sit upon a hillock, gazing
+curiously and admiringly upon a simple wild flower. He knew not why
+the youth should stand with his eyes fixed upon the western sky when
+it was pavilioned with crimson, and gold, and purple; or later yet,
+when, one by one, the stars came timidly forth and took their places
+in the darkening heaven. He shook his head at these manifestations,
+and confidently informed his help-mate that he feared the boy was "not
+right"--significantly touching, as he spoke, that portion of his
+anatomy where he fondly imagined a vast quantity of brain of very
+superior quality was safely stowed away, guarded by a sufficient
+quantity of skull to protect it against any accident. Neither he nor
+the good wife imagined, for a moment, that Julian was a genius, and
+that his talent, circumscribed by circumstances, was struggling for an
+outlet for its development.
+
+At last the divine spark within him was kindled into flame. An
+itinerant portrait painter came round, with his tools of trade, and
+did the dominie in brown and red, and the squire's daughter in
+vermilion and flake white, and set the whole village agog with his
+marvellous achievements. Julian cultivated his acquaintance, received
+some secret instructions in the A B C of art, and bargained for some
+drawing and painting materials. His aspirations had at length found an
+object. Long and painfully he labored in secret; but his advances were
+rapid, for he took nature as a model. At last he ventured to display
+his latest achievement--a small portrait of his father. It was first
+shown to his mother, and filled her with astonishment and delight. It
+is the privilege of woman, however circumstanced, to appreciate and
+applaud true genius. Of course, Moliere's housekeeper occurs to the
+reader as an illustration. The picture was next shown to the old man.
+He gazed at it with a sort of silent horror, puffing the smoke from
+his pipe in short, spasmodic jerks, and slowly shaking his head before
+he spoke.
+
+"Do you know it, father?" asked the young artist.
+
+"Know it!" exclaimed the old man. "Yes--yes--I see myself there like I
+was lookin' into a glass. There's my nose, and eyes, and mouth, and
+hair; yes, and there's my pipe. It ain't right--it can't be
+right--it's witchcraft. Satan must ha' helped you, boy--you couldn't
+never ha' done it without the aid of the evil one."
+
+This was a sad damper. But just then the dominie luckily happened in
+to take a pipe with his parishioner. He pronounced the work excellent,
+and satisfied his old friend's doubts as to the honesty of the
+transaction. Julian blessed the old man in his heart for the comfort
+he afforded.
+
+And now the fame of the young painter flew through the village. The
+tavern keeper ordered a head of General Washington for his sign board,
+the old one--originally a portrait of the Duke of Cambridge with the
+court dress painted out--not satisfying some of his critical
+customers. And for the blacksmith, Montfort painted a rampant black
+horse, prevented from falling backward by a solid tail. The stable
+keeper also gave him orders for sundry coats of arms to be depicted on
+wagon panels and sleigh dashers, so that the incipient artist had
+plenty of orders and not a little cash.
+
+But he soon grew tired of this local reputation. He panted for the
+association of kindred spirits; for the impulse and example to be
+found in some great centre of civilization; for refinement, fame--all
+that is dear to an ardent imagination. And so, one morning, he
+announced his intention of seeking his fortune in the city of New
+York.
+
+His mother was sad, but did not oppose his wishes; his father shook
+his head, as he always did when any thing was proposed--no matter
+what. The old gentleman seemed to derive great pleasure from shaking
+his head, and no one interfered with so harmless an amusement.
+
+"Goin' to York, hey?" said he, emitting sundry puffs of smoke. "The
+Yorkers are a curious set of people, boy. I read into a paper once't
+about how they car' on--droppin' pocket books, and sellin' brass
+watches for gold, and knockin' people down and stompin' onto 'em."
+
+"But the dominie thinks I might make money there," said the young man.
+
+"O, then you'd better go. The dominie's got a longer head than you or
+I, boy," said the old man.
+
+"Yes, father," said the youth, kindling with animation. "In New York I
+am sure to win fame and fortune. I shall come back, then, and buy you
+a better farm, and hire hands for you, so that you won't be obliged to
+work so hard--and you can set out trees."
+
+"Hain't no opinion of trees," said the old man, shaking his head.
+
+"Well, well, father, you shall have money, and do what you like with
+it; for my part I shall be content with fame."
+
+"Fame! what is that?" said the old man, laying down his pipe in
+bewilderment.
+
+"Fame! Do you ask what fame is?" exclaimed the romantic boy. But he
+paused, convinced in a moment of the perfect futility of attempting to
+convey an idea of the unsubstantial phantom to the old man's
+intellect. Perhaps the old farmer was the better philosopher of the
+two.
+
+But Julian gained his point, and departed for the great city--the goal
+of so many struggles, the grave of so many hopes. He was at first
+dazzled by the splendors of the artificial life, into the heart of
+which he plunged; and then, with a homesick feeling, he sighed for
+that verdurous luxury of nature he had left. He missed the trees--for
+he thought the shabby and rusty foliage of the Battery and Park hardly
+worthy of that name. But, in time to save him from utter
+disappointment and heart sickness, there opened on his vision the
+glorious dawning of the world of art. He passed from gallery to
+gallery, and from studio to studio, drinking in the beauties that
+unfolded before him with the eyes of his body and his soul. He was
+enraptured, dazzled, enchanted. Then he settled down to work in his
+humble room, economizing the scanty funds he had brought with him to
+the city. Like many young aspirants, he grasped, at first, at the most
+difficult subjects. He constantly groped for a high ideal. He would
+fly before he had learned to walk. With an imperfect knowledge of
+architecture and anatomy, and a limited stock of information, he would
+paint history--mythology. He sought to illustrate poetry, and dared
+attempt scenes from the Bible, Shakspeare, and Milton. He failed,
+though there were glimpses of grandeur and glory in his faulty
+attempts.
+
+Then he turned back, with a sickening feeling, to the elements of art,
+distasteful as he found them. It was hard to pore over rectangles and
+curves, bones and muscles, angles and measurements, after sporting
+with irregular forms and fascinating colors. He tried portraiture, but
+he had no feeling for the business. He could not transfigure the dull
+and commonplace heads he was to copy. He had not the nice tact that
+makes beauty of ugliness without the loss of identity. He could not
+ennoble vulgarians. The sordid man bore the stamp of baseness on his
+canvas. His pictures were too true; and truth is death to the portrait
+painter.
+
+He began to grow morbid in his feelings, and was fast verging to a
+misanthrope. His clothes grew shabby, and looked shabbier for his
+careless way of wearing them. He was often cold and hungry. There were
+times when he viewed with envy and hate the evidences of prosperity he
+saw about him. He railed against those pursuits of life which made men
+rich and prosperous. He began to think with the French demagogue, that
+"property was a theft," and to regard with great favor the socialistic
+doctrines then coming into vogue. The American social system he
+pronounced corrupt and rotten, and deserving to be uprooted and
+subverted. And this was the rustic boy, who, a few months before, had
+left his home so full of hope, and generous feeling, and high
+aspiration.
+
+There were times when he yearned for the humble scenes of his boyhood.
+But he was too proud to throw up his pencils and palette, and go back
+to the old farm house; and so he found a vent for his home feeling in
+painting some of the scenes of his earliest life--the rustic dances,
+the huskings, the haymakings, and junketings with which he was so
+familiar.
+
+One of these pictures--a rustic dance was the subject--he sent to a
+gilder's to be framed. He had consecrated three dollars to this
+purpose, and went one day to see how his commission had been executed.
+He found the picture framer, who was also a picture dealer, in his
+shirt sleeves, talking with a middle-aged gentleman, who was praising
+his performance.
+
+"Really a very clever thing," said the gentleman, scanning the
+painting through his gold-bowed eye glasses.
+
+"The composition, coloring, and light and shade, are admirable; but
+the life, animation, and naturalness of the figures make its great
+charm. Ah, why don't our artists study to produce life as it exists
+around them, and as they themselves know it and feel it, instead of
+giving us the gods and goddesses of a defunct and false religion, and
+scenes three thousand miles and years away?"
+
+"Mr. Greville," said the picture framer, "allow me to make you
+acquainted with the artist, Mr. Montfort; he's a next-door neighbor of
+yours--lives at No ----, Broadway."
+
+"Mr. Montfort," said the gentleman, warmly shaking the hand the artist
+shyly extended, "you found me admiring your work. And I'm sure I did
+not know I had so talented a neighbor. I shall be glad to be better
+acquainted with you. I presume your picture is for sale."
+
+"Not so, sir," replied the artist, coldly. "It is a reminiscence of
+earlier and happier days. It was painted for my own satisfaction, and
+I shall keep it as long as I have a place to hang it in. It is a
+common mistake, sir, with our patrons, to suppose they can buy our
+souls as well as our labor."
+
+Mr. Greville's cheek flushed; but as he glanced at the shabby exterior
+and wan face of the artist, his color faded, and he answered gently--
+
+"Believe me, Mr. Montfort, I am not one of the persons you
+describe--if, indeed, they exist elsewhere but in your imagination. I
+should be the last person to fail in sympathy for the high-toned
+feelings of an artist; for in early life I was thought to manifest a
+talent for art--and, indeed, I had a strong desire to follow the
+vocation."
+
+"And you abandoned it--you turned a deaf ear to the divine
+inspiration--you preferred wealth to glory--to be one of the vulgar
+many rather than to belong to the choice few. I congratulate you, Mr.
+Greville, on your taste."
+
+"You judge me harshly, Mr. Montfort," replied the gentleman,
+pleasantly. "I am hardly required to justify my choice of calling to a
+perfect stranger; and yet your very frankness induces me to say a word
+or two of the motives which impelled me. My parents were poor. An
+artist's life seemed to hold no immediate prospects of competence.
+They to whom I owed my being might die of want before I had
+established a reputation. I had an opportunity to enter commercial
+life advantageously. I prospered. I have lived to see the declining
+days of my parents cheered by every comfort, and to rear a family in
+comfort and opulence. One of my boys promises to make a good artist.
+Fortunately, I can bestow on him the means of following the bent of
+his inclination. Instead of being an indifferent painter myself, I am
+an extensive purchaser of works of art, so that my conscience acquits
+me of any very great wrong in the course I adopted."
+
+Montfort was silent; he was worsted in the argument.
+
+"Mr. Montfort," pursued the gentleman, after a pause, "my evenings are
+always at my disposal, and I like to surround myself with men of
+talent. I have already a large circle of acquaintances among artists,
+musicians, and literary men, and once a week they meet at my house; I
+shall be very happy to see you among us. To-night is my evening of
+reception--will you join us?"
+
+Proud and shy as he was, Montfort could not help accepting an
+invitation so frankly and pleasantly tendered. He promised to come.
+
+"One favor more," said Mr. Greville. "You won't sell that picture.
+Will you lend it to me for a day or two?"
+
+"I cannot refuse you, of course, Mr. Greville."
+
+"If you have the slightest objection, say so frankly," said the
+kind-hearted merchant.
+
+"I have not the slightest objection, Mr. Greville. It is entirely at
+your disposal."
+
+Mr. Greville was profuse in his thanks.
+
+"Shall I send it to your house?" said the picture framer.
+
+"No, Mr. Tennant," replied the merchant. "It is too valuable to be
+trusted out of my hands. I am personally responsible, and I fear that
+I am not rich enough to remunerate the artist, if any harm happens to
+it."
+
+With these words, bowing to the artist, Mr. Greville took the picture
+carefully under his arm, and left the shop, Montfort soon following.
+
+"Well, I declare," said the picture framer, when he was left alone,
+"artists is queer animils, and no mistake. Neglect 'em, and it makes
+'em as mad as a short-horned bull in fly time; coax 'em and pat 'em,
+and they lets fly their heels in your face. Seems to me, if I was an
+artist, I shouldn't be particular about being a hog, too. There ain't
+no sense in it. Now, it beats my notion all to pieces to see how Mr.
+Greville could talk so pleasantly and gentlemanly to that dratted
+Montfort, and he flyin' into his face all the time like a tarrier dog.
+I'd a punched his head for him, I would--if they'd had me up afore the
+Sessions for saltin' and batterin'. Consequently it's better to be a
+pictur' framer than a pictur' painter. Cause why?--a pictur' framer is
+a gentleman, and a pictur' painter is a hog."
+
+There was a good deal of truth in what Mr. Tennant said, mixed up with
+a good deal of uncharitableness. But what did he know of the _genus
+irritabile vatum_?
+
+Evening came; and after many misgivings, Montfort, in an eclectic
+costume, selected from his whole wardrobe, at a late hour, ventured
+to emerge from his humble domicile, and present himself at the
+rosewood portal of his aristocratic neighbor. He soon found himself in
+the dazzling drawing room, bewildered by the lights, and the splendor
+of the decoration and the furniture. Mr. Greville saw his
+embarrassment, and hastened to dispel it. He shook him warmly by the
+hand, and presented him to his lady and daughter, and then to a crowd
+of guests. A distinguished artist begged the honor of an introduction
+to him, and he soon found himself among people who understood him, and
+with whom he could converse at his ease. Though he was lionized, he
+was lionized by people who understood the sensitiveness of artistic
+natures. They flattered delicately and tastefully. Their incense
+excited, but did not intoxicate or suffocate. In one of the drawing
+rooms the gratified artist beheld his picture placed in an admirable
+light, the cynosure of all eyes, and the theme of all lips.
+
+"I am certainly very much indebted to you for placing it so
+advantageously," said the artist to his host. "It owes at least half
+its success to the arrangement of the light."
+
+"Do you hear that, Caroline?" asked Mr. Greville, turning to his
+beautiful daughter, who stood smiling beside him.
+
+"I was afraid I had made some mistake in the arrangement," said the
+beautiful girl, blushing with pleasure.
+
+Montfort attempted a complimentary remark, but his tongue failed him.
+He would have given worlds for the self-possession of some of the
+_nonchalant_ dandies he saw hovering around the peerless beauty. He
+was forced to content himself with awkwardly bowing his thanks.
+
+In the latter part of the evening, one of the rooms was cleared for a
+dance. Montfort was solicited to join in a quadrille, and a beautiful
+partner was even presented to his notice; but he wanted confidence
+and knowledge, and he had no faith in the integrity of the gaiter
+shoes he had vamped up for the occasion, so that he was forced to
+decline. This incident revived some of his morbid feelings that had
+begun to slumber, and he caught himself muttering something about the
+"frivolities of fashion."
+
+He thought to make his exit unnoticed; but Mr. Greville detected him,
+and urged him to repeat his visit.
+
+The next day, during his reception hours, several visitors called--an
+unheard-of thing. They glanced indifferently at his mythological
+daubs, but were enthusiastic in their praises of his rustic subjects.
+The day following, more visitors came. He was offered and accepted
+four hundred dollars for one of his cabinet pictures. In a word,
+orders flowed in upon him; he could hardly paint fast enough to supply
+the demand. He became rather fastidious in his dress--patronized the
+first tailors and boot makers, cultivated the graces, and took lessons
+in the waltz and polka. At Mr. Greville's, and some of the other
+houses he visited, he was remarked as being somewhat of a dandy. And
+this was Montfort the misanthrope--Montfort the socialist--Montfort
+the agrarian.
+
+An important episode in his career was an order to paint the portrait
+of Miss Caroline Greville. He had already had three or four sittings,
+and the picture was approaching completion; then the work suddenly
+ceased. Day after day the artist pleaded engagements. At the same time
+he discontinued his visits at the house.
+
+Mr. Greville, somewhat offended, called on Montfort for an
+explanation. He found his daughter's picture covered by a curtain.
+
+"My dear sir," said he, "how does it happen that you can't go on with
+that picture? My wife is very anxious about it."
+
+"I can never finish it," said the artist sadly.
+
+"How so, my young friend?"
+
+"Mr. Greville, I will be frank with you. I love your daughter; I, a
+poor artist, have dared to lift my eyes to the child of the opulent
+merchant. I have never in look or word, though, led her to divine my
+feelings--the secret is in my own keeping. But I cannot see her day
+after day--I cannot scan her beautiful and innocent features, or
+listen to the brilliant flow of her conversation, without agony. This
+has compelled me, sir, to suspend my work."
+
+"Mr. Julian Montfort," said the merchant, "you seem bent--excuse
+me--on making yourself miserable. You are no longer a poor artist; you
+have a fortune in your pencil. Your profession is now a surer thing
+than mine. There is no gentleman in the city who ought not to be proud
+of your alliance; and if you can make yourself acceptable to my
+daughter, why, take her and be happy."
+
+How Julian sped in his wooing may be inferred from the fact that, at a
+certain wedding ceremony in Grace Church, he performed the important
+part of bridegroom to the bride of Miss Caroline Greville; and after
+the usual quantity of hand shakings, and tears, and kisses, and all
+the usual efforts to make a wedding resemble a funeral as much as
+possible, Mr. and Mrs. Montfort took passage in one of the Havre
+steamers for an extensive tour upon the European continent.
+
+When they returned, Mr. Montfort's reputation rose higher than ever,
+of course, and he made money with marvellous rapidity. He is now as
+well known in Wall Street as in his studio, has a town and country
+house, is a strong conservative in politics, and talks very learnedly
+about the moneyed interest. He has made some efforts to transplant
+his good old father and mother to New York; but they prefer residing
+at his villa, and taking care of his Durham cattle and Suffolk pigs,
+and seeing that his "Cochin Chinas" and "Brahma Pootras" do not
+trample down the children when they go out to feed the poultry of a
+summer morning.
+
+
+
+
+SOUVENIRS OF A RETIRED OYSTERMAN IN ILL HEALTH.
+
+
+Samivel, my boy, always stick to the shop; and if ever you become a
+_millionhair_, like me, never be seduced by any womankind into
+enterin' fash'nable society, and moving among the circles of _bong
+tong_. (I have been obligated to study French without a master; 'cause
+the Upper Ten always talks in bad French, and so a word or two will
+slip in onawares, even ven talking to a friend--just as a bad oyster
+will sometimes make its way into a good stew, spite of the best
+artist.)
+
+I envies you, Samivel. You don't know what a treat it is to me to be
+admitted confidentially behind the counter, and to find myself
+surrounded once more by these here congenial bivalves. I can't escape
+from old associations. Oysters stare me in the face wherever I go.
+They're fash'nable, Samivel, and it's about the only think in fash'n
+as I reg'larly likes.
+
+The other day we gave a _derjerner_, (that's French for brekfax,
+Samivel,) which took place about dinner time, and consisted of several
+distinguished pussons of the city, and three or four Hungry'uns as
+came over in the last steamer--reg'lar rang-a-tangs, vith these 'ere
+yaller anchovies growin' onto their upper lips. The old ooman, or
+madame, as she calls herself, was on hand to receive--but I was out of
+the way. She was mightily flustered, for she know'd I could talk a
+little Dutch, and she wanted me for to interpret with the Hungry'uns.
+
+So she speaks up werry sharp, (the old ooman can speak werry sharp by
+times,) and says to my youngest, a boy,--
+
+"Where on airth _can_ your father be?"
+
+"O, daddy's in the sink room," says the young 'un, "a openin'
+eyesters."
+
+The whole _derjerner_ bust into a hoss larff--for these Upper Ten
+folks, Samivel,--betwixt you and me and the pump, my boy,--ain't got
+no more manners than hogs. The child was voted an _ongfong
+terriblee_--but it wor a fack. I had went down into the sink room, as
+a mere looker-on in Veneer, and I seen one of my _employees_ a making
+such botchwork of openin', hagglin' up his hands, and misusin' the
+oysters, than I off coat, tucked up sleeves, and went to work, and
+rolled 'em off amazin'--I tell you. The past rushed back on me--the
+familiar feel of the knife almost banished my dyspepsy--I lived--I
+breathed--I vas a oysterman again. Did I ever show you them lines I
+wrote into my darter's album? No. Vell, then, 'ere goes:--
+
+    TO AN UNOPENED OYSTER.
+
+    Thou liest fair within thy shell;
+      Thy charms no mortal eye can see;
+    And so, as Lamprey[A] says, of old
+      Was Wenus lodged--the fairest she.
+
+    But beauties such as yourn and hern
+      Were never born unseen to waste;
+    Like her, you're bound to come to light,
+      To gratify refinement's taste.
+
+    The fairest of the female race
+      To Ilium vent vith Priam's boy;
+    So the best oysters that I see
+      Are sent by railroad off to Troy.
+
+    Sleep on--sleep on--nor dream of woe
+      Until the horrid deed be done--
+    Then out and die, like Simile,[B]
+      In thy first glance upon the sun.
+
+[Footnote A: Probably Lempriere.]
+
+[Footnote B: Semele (?)]
+
+Well, and 'ows bizness, Samivel? You've got a good stand, and you're
+bound to succeed. But beware of the Cracker-Fiend. I'll tell you about
+him.
+
+There vas a chap as used to _patronize_ me that vas one of the
+hungriest customers you ever did see. He was werry shabbily dressed,
+and he looked for all the world like the picturs I've seen of
+Shakspeare's "lean and hungry Cashier."
+
+He used to come in, give his order, (generally a stew,) and then go
+and set down in a box and drop the curting. It allers looks suspicious
+for a customer to drop his curting _afore_ you bring him the
+oysters--_arterwards_ it's all perfectly proper, in course. Afore the
+stew was ready, he would call out--
+
+"Waiter! crackers!"
+
+The boy would hand him a basket; but when his stew was set before him,
+there warn't no crackers in _his_ box.
+
+So ve put him on a allowance of a dozen crackers, which is werry
+liberal, considerin' as pickles and pepper-sarce is throw'd in gratis.
+But he used to step out quietly and snake baskets of crackers outen
+other boxes, so's the other customers, as alvays conducted themselves
+like perfick gen'lemen, vas all the time a singing out, "Waiter! plate
+of crackers."
+
+Then we kept a boy a-watching of him, so's to keep him in his box
+till he'd eat his oysters, and then you had to keep a werry sharp eye
+on him ven he was paying, and you vas a-makin' change, els't you'd hev
+all the crackers took off the counter.
+
+One day arter he vas gone, ve found all the crackers missin' from one
+side of the room. Of course, ve suspected he done it, but how he done
+it vas as much a puzzle as the Spinks.
+
+Next day, arter ve got him into his box, ve vatched and listened. Ve
+heard a queer kind of sound, like a man trying to play the jewsharp
+vith his boots; and, sir, ve detected the cracker-fiend a climbin'
+over the partitions into the neighborin' boxes, and a collarin' all
+the crackers he could come acrost.
+
+Perhaps you think I vent into him like a knife into a Prince's Bay.
+But I didn't do no such think. I treated him werry perlite, and gin
+him two dollars, a keg of crackers, and a jar of pickled oysters, on
+condition he'd go and patronize some other establishment. Keep an eye
+open for him, Samivel.
+
+Be generous, Samivel, but don't carry generosity to XS, for an
+antidote I'm about to relate, out of my pusnol experience, illustrates
+the evil effex of excessive philanthrophy.
+
+A little gal used to come into my shop to buy oysters. I seen she was
+some kind of a foreigner, so I set her down for Dutch--as them vas the
+only foreigners I vas acquainted vith at the time. I artervards
+discovered she was French. She was werry thin, and as pale as a
+soft-shelled clam; there was a dark blue color under her eyes, like
+these here muscle shells. At first, she used to buy ninepence worth of
+oysters. Arter a while it came down to fourpence; and one day she
+only vanted two cents vorth. I asked her who they vas for, and she
+said,--
+
+"For my grandfather; he is very sick, sare."
+
+I followed her, and found out where her grandfather lived. So one
+night I opened four gallons of prime New Yorkers, put 'em in a kettle,
+took a lot of crackers and soft bread, and started for the
+Frenchman's. The little gal came to the door, and showed me up stairs.
+The poor old customer was all alone, in bed, and yaller as a blanket.
+He start up ven he see us, and exclaimed,--
+
+_"Ah! mon Dieu! Antoinette, priez le gentilhomme de 'asseoir."_
+
+The leetle gal offered me a stool, but I didn't set down.
+
+"Mounseer," said I, in some French manufactured for the occasion, "I
+havey broughtee you sommey oysteries," and I showed him the kittle,
+with the kiver off.
+
+I thought his eyes kind of vatered at the sight, but he sighed, and
+turnin' to the leetle gal, said,--
+
+_"Antoinette, dites ą Monsieur, que je n'ai plus d'argent--pas un
+sou."_
+
+I guessed it was something about money, so afore the leetle gal could
+translate it, I sang out,--
+
+"I don't want no money, Mounseer; these here are free gratis, for
+nothin' at all. I always treats my customers once in a while."
+
+That was a lie, Samivel--but never mind, I gin him a dozen, and the
+old fellur seemed to like 'em fust rate. Then I offered him some more,
+but he hung back. However I made him swallow 'em, and offered some to
+the leetle gal.
+
+"After grandpapa," said she.
+
+So I offered him some more.
+
+"No more, I zank you; I 'ave eat too moosh."
+
+I know'd he was only sogerin' out of delixy. So I says as perlite as
+possible,--
+
+"None of that, old fellur--catch hold. I fetched 'em for you, and I'm
+bound to see you eat 'em."
+
+"Sare, you are _too_ kind," said he; and he vent to vork again. Arter
+a spell, he stopped.
+
+"Don't like 'em--hey?" says I, pretendin' to be mad.
+
+"I sall prove ze contraire," said he, in a kind of die-away manner,
+and he went into 'em agin.
+
+Presently, he gin over, and fell back on his piller murmurin'--
+
+"Sare, you are too good."
+
+I gin the balance to the leetle gal, and told her to come round in the
+mornin', and I'd fill her kittle for her, adding that her grandfather
+would be all straight in the mornin'.
+
+Samivel! he _vas_ all straight in the morning, but just as stiff as a
+cold poker. The last two or three dozen finished him; his digestion
+wasn't strong enough for 'em, and he know'd it, but he eat himself to
+death out of politeness. The French are certingly the perlitest people
+on the face of the yairth.
+
+Howsever, I see him buried decently, and I adopted the leetle gal. She
+was well brung up and educated, and she larned my darters French--the
+real Simon Pure--for she was a Canadian, and her grandfather came from
+Gascony. But his fate vos a orful lesson. Benevolence, like an
+oyster-roast, is good for nothink if it's over done. And now, Samivel,
+my boy, _a-jew_, for I have a _sworray_ this evenin', and receive half
+Beacon Street. _A-jew._
+
+
+
+
+THE NEW YEAR'S STOCKINGS.
+
+
+"Never crosses his t's, nor dots his i's, and his n's and v's and r's
+are all alike!" said, almost despairingly, Mr. Simon Quillpen, the
+painstaking clerk of old Lawyer Latitat, as he sat late at night, on
+the last day of the year, digging away at the copy of a legal document
+his liberal patron and employer had placed in his hands in the early
+part of the evening. "Thank Heaven!" he added, laying down his pen,
+and consulting a huge silver bull's eye which he pulled from a
+threadbare fob, "I shall soon get through this job, and then, hey for
+roast potatoes and the charming society of Mrs. Q.!" And with this
+consolatory reflection, he resumed his work with redoubled energy.
+
+Mr. Quillpen was a little man; not so very little as to pass for a
+phenomenon, but certainly too small to be noticed by a recruiting
+grenadier sergeant. His nose was quite sharp and gave his mild, thin
+countenance, particularly as he carried his head a little on one side,
+a very bird-like air. He trod, too, gingerly and lightly, very like a
+sparrow or a tomtit; and, to complete the analogy, his head being
+almost always surmounted by a pen, he had a sort of crested,
+blue-jayish aspect, that was rather comical. Quillpen had a very
+little wife and three very little children, Bob, Chiffy, and the baby;
+the last the ultimate specimen of the _diminuendo_. It was well for
+them that they were so small, for Quillpen obtained his _starvelihood_
+by driving the quill for Mr. Latitat at four hundred dollars a year,
+to which Mrs. Quillpen added, from time to time, certain little sums
+derived from making shirts and overalls at the rate of about ten cents
+the million stitches.
+
+Whether Mr. Latitat was able to pay more was a question that never
+entered the minute brain of Simon Quillpen; for he had so humble an
+opinion of his own merits, and was always so contented and cheerful,
+that he regarded his salary as enormous, and was wont playfully to
+sign little confidential notes Croesus Quillpen and Girard Quillpen,
+and on rare convivial occasions would sometimes style himself Baron
+Rothschild. But this last title was very rarely indulged in, because
+it once sent his particular crony, a chuckle-headed clerk in the
+post-office, into a cachinnatory fit which was "rayther in the
+apoplectic line."
+
+"To return to our muttons." Simon dug away at his copying with an
+occasional reverential glance at a certain low oaken door, opening
+into the _penetralia_ of this abode of law and righteousness, behind
+which oaken door, at that very moment, sat Mr. Lucius Latitat, either
+deeply engaged in the solution of some vast legal problem, or
+calculating the interest on an outstanding note, or consulting with
+chuckling delight a list of mortgages to be foreclosed.
+
+Well--Quillpen finished his document, wiped his pen on a thick velvet
+butterfly, laid it in the rack above the ink, pushed back his chair
+from the table, withdrew the cambric sleeve from his right arm, and
+smoothed down his wristbands, having first put on his India rubber
+overshoes. The fact is, he was very anxious to get home, and he could
+not go without first seeing Mr. Latitat. The idea of knocking at Mr.
+Latitat's door on business of his own never once occurred to him. He
+would do that for a client, but not for himself. So he ventured on a
+series of low coughs, and finding no notice was taken of them, he
+dropped the poker into the coalhod, the most daring act he had ever
+perpetrated. The slight noise thus produced crashed on his guilty ears
+like thunder, or rather with the roar of a universal earthquake.
+Slight, however, as it was, it brought out Mr. Latitat from his
+interior.
+
+"What the deuse are you making such a racket for?" he exclaimed in
+tones that thrilled to the heart of his employee; then, without
+waiting for an answer, he slightly glanced at the table, and asked,
+"Have you got through that job?"
+
+"Yes'm--I mean, yes'r" replied the quivering Simon.
+
+"Well, then, you can go. I'm going myself. You blow out the lights and
+lock the room. And mind and be here early to-morrow morning. Nothing
+like beginning the New Year well. Good night."
+
+"Mr. Latitat, sir!" cried Quillpen, with desperate resolution, as he
+saw the great man about to disappear--"please, sir--could you let me
+have a little money to-night?"
+
+"Why! what do you want of money?" retorted the lawyer. "O! I 'spose
+you have a host of unpaid bills."
+
+"No, sir; no, sir; that's not it," Simon hastened to say. "I hain't
+got narry bill standing. I pay as I go. Cash takes the lot!"
+
+"None of your coarse, vulgar slang to me!" said Latitat. "Reserve it
+for your loose companions. If not to pay bills, what for?"
+
+"Please, sir,--we, that is Mrs. Q. and myself, want to put something
+in the children's stockings, sir."
+
+"Then put the children's legs in 'em!" said the lawyer with a grin. "I
+make no payments to be used for any such ridiculous purposes. Good
+night. Yet stay--take this letter--there's money in it--a large
+amount--put it in the post-office with your own hands as you go
+home."
+
+"And you can't let me have a trifle?" gasped Simon.
+
+"Not a cent!" snarled the lawyer; and he slammed the door behind him,
+and went heavily down the stairs.
+
+"I wonder how it feels to punch a man's head," said Simon, as he stood
+rooted to the spot where Mr. Latitat left him. "It's illegal--it's
+actionable--there are fines and penalties provided by the statute: but it
+seems as if there were cases that might justify the operation--morally. But
+then, again--what good would it do to punch his head? Punching his head
+wouldn't get me money--and if I was to try it, on finding that the licks
+didn't bring out the cash, I might be tempted to help myself to the cash,
+and that would be highway robbery; and when the punchee ventured to suggest
+that, the puncher might be tempted to silence him. O Lord! that's the way
+these murders in the first degree happen; and I think that I was almost on
+the point of taking the first step. I really think I look a little like
+Babe the pirate," added the poor man, glancing at his mild but disturbed
+features in the glass; "or like Captain Kidd, or leastways like Country
+McClusky--a regular bruiser!"
+
+Sitting down before the grate, and stirring it feebly with the poker,
+he tried to devise some feasible plan for supplying the vacuum in his
+treasury. He might borrow, but then all his friends were very poor,
+and particularly hard up--at this particular season of the year. The
+bull's eye watch might have been "spouted," if he had foreseen this
+contingency; but every avuncular relative was now at this hour of the
+night snug abed to a dead certainty. Purchasing on credit was not to
+be thought of, and the only toy shop which kept open late enough for
+his purchases, was kept by a man to whom he was totally unknown. Time
+galloped on, meanwhile, and the half-hour struck.
+
+"I'll slip that letter in the post-office, and then go home," said
+Simon sorrowfully, rising as he spoke, and grasping his inseparable
+umbrella.
+
+"Hallo! shipmate! where-away?" cried a hoarse voice. And Mr. Quillpen
+became aware of the presence of an "ancient mariner," enveloped in a
+very rough dreadnought, and finished off with a large amount of
+whiskers and tarpaulin.
+
+"I was going home, sir," replied Simon, with the deferential air of a
+very little to a very big man.
+
+"Ay--going to clap on hatches and deadlights. Well, tell me one
+thing--where-away may one find one Mr. Latitat--a shore-going cove, a
+regular land-shark, d'ye see?"
+
+"This is Mr. Latitat's office, sir," said Simon.
+
+"Ay--and is he within hail?"
+
+"No, sir, he has gone home."
+
+"Slipped his cable--hey? just my luck! Well, one might snooze
+comfortably on this here table--mightn't he? You can clear out, and
+I'll take care of the shop till morning."
+
+"That would be perfectly inadmissible, sir," said Simon, "the idea of
+a stranger's sleeping here!"
+
+"A stranger!" cried the sailor. "Why, shipmate, do you happen to know
+who I am? Look at me! Don't you find somewhat of a family likeness to
+Lucius in my old weather-beaten mug? Why, man-alive, I'm his
+brother,--his own blood brother! You must a heard him speak of me.
+Been cruising round the world in chase of Fortune, but could never
+overhaul her. Been sick, shipwrecked, and now come back as poor as I
+went. But Lucius has got enough for both of us. How glad he'll be to
+see me to-morrow, hey, old Ink-and-tape?"
+
+Simon had his doubts about that matter, but told the sailor to come in
+the morning, and see.
+
+"That I will," said the tar, "and start him up with a rousing Happy
+New Year! But I say, shipmate, I don't want to sleep in the
+watch-house. Have you never a shilling about your trousers?"
+
+Simon answered that he hadn't a cent.
+
+"Why, don't that brother of mine give you good wages?"
+
+"Enormous!" said Simon.
+
+"What becomes of it all?"
+
+"I spend it all--I'm very extravagant," said Simon, shaking his head.
+"And then, I'm sorry to say, your brother isn't always punctual in his
+payments. To-night, for instance, I couldn't get a cent from him."
+
+"Then I tell you what I'd do, shipmate," said the sailor,
+confidentially. "I'd overhaul some of his letters. Steam will loosen a
+wafer, and a hot knife-blade, wax. I'd overhaul his money-letters and
+pay myself. Ha! ha! do you take? Now, that letter you've got in your
+fin, my boy, looks woundy like a dokiment chock full of shinplasters.
+What do you say to making prize of 'em? wouldn't it be a jolly go?"
+
+"Stand off!" said Simon, assuming a heavy round ruler and a commanding
+attitude. "Don't you come anigh me, or there'll be a case of
+justifiable homicide here. How dare you counsel me to commit a robbery
+on your own brother? I wonder you ain't ashamed to look me in the
+face."
+
+"A chap as has cruised as many years as I have in the low latitudes
+ain't afraid to look any body in the face," answered the "ancient
+mariner," grimly. "I made you a fair offer, shipmate, and you
+rejected it like a long-shore jackass as you are. Good night to ye."
+
+Much to his relief, the sailor took himself off, and Simon, after
+locking and double locking his door, went to the post-office and
+deposited the letter with which he had been intrusted. As he lived a
+great way up on the Neck, he did not reach home until after all the
+clocks of the city had struck twelve, so that he was able to surprise
+his little wife, who was sitting up for him, with a "Happy New Year!"
+
+He cast a rueful eye at the line of stockings hung along the
+mantel-piece in the sitting room, and then sorrowfully announced to
+his wife his failure to obtain money of Mr. Latitat.
+
+"There'll be nothing for the stockings, Meg," said he, "unless what
+the poor children put in ours."
+
+"I am very sorry," said his wife, who bore the announcement much
+better than he anticipated; "but we'll have a happy New Year for all
+that."
+
+Simon's roasted potatoes were completely charred, he had been detained
+so late; but there was a little meal in the centre of each, and
+charcoal is not at all unhealthy. He went to bed, and in spite of his
+cares, slept the sleep of the just.
+
+A confused babbling awoke him at daylight. Master Bobby was standing
+on his stomach, Miss Chiffy was seated nearly on his head, and baby
+was crowing in its cradle. Happy New Years and kisses were exchanged.
+"O, dear papa and mamma!" cried Bobby, "what a beautiful horse I found
+in my stocking!"
+
+"And what a beautiful wax doll, with eyes that move, in mine," said
+Chiffy,--"and such a splendid rattle and coral in baby's. Now, pray go
+down and see what there is in yours."
+
+"This is some of your work, little woman," whispered Simon to his
+wife. But the little woman denied it emphatically. Much mystified, he
+hurried down to the breakfast room. The children had made the usual
+offering of very hard and highly-colored sugar plums; but in each of
+the two large stockings, stowed away at the bottom, was a roll of bank
+notes, five hundred dollars in each.
+
+"Somebody wants to ruin us!" cried Simon, bursting into tears. "This
+is stolen money, and they want to lay it on to us."
+
+"All I know about it," said Mrs. Quillpen, "is, that last night, just
+before you came home, a sailor man came here with all these things,
+and said they were for us, and made me promise to put them in the
+stockings, as he directed, and say nothing about his visit to you."
+
+"A sailor!" cried Simon--"I have it! I think I know who it is. Good
+by--I'll be back to breakfast directly."
+
+Simon ran to the office, and found, as he anticipated, Mr. Latitat
+there before him.
+
+"A happy New Year to you, sir," said he. "Have you seen your brother?"
+
+"I have not," replied Mr. Latitat.
+
+Simon then told him all that happened on the preceding night; the
+apparition of the sailor,--the temptation,--the money found in the
+stockings, in proof of which he showed the thousand dollars, and
+stating his fears that they had been stolen, offered to deposit the
+sum in his employer's hands.
+
+"Keep 'em, shipmate; they were meant for you!" exclaimed Mr. Latitat,
+suddenly and queerly, assuming the very voice and look of the nautical
+brother of the preceding evening.
+
+While Simon stared his eyes out of his head, Mr. Latitat informed him
+that he had no brother--that he had disguised himself for the purpose
+of putting his clerk's long-tried fidelity to a final test, and, that
+sustained triumphantly, had rewarded him in the manner we have seen.
+He told how, disgusted in early life by the treachery and ingratitude
+of friends and relations who had combined to ruin him, he had become a
+misanthrope and miser; how the spectacle of Simon's disinterested
+fidelity, rigid sense of honor, self-denial and cheerfulness, had won
+back his better nature; and he wound off, as he shook Quillpen warmly
+by the hand, by announcing that he had raised his salary to twelve
+hundred dollars per annum.
+
+The good news almost killed Simon. "Please your honor," said he,
+endeavoring to frame an appropriate reply,--"no--that ain't it--please
+your excellency--you've gone and done it--you've gone and done it! I
+was Baron Rothschild before, and now--no--I can't tell what I am--it
+isn't in no biographical dictionary, and I don't believe it's in the
+'Wealth of Nations!'"
+
+"Well, never mind," said Latitat, laughing, "go home and tell Mrs. Q.
+the office won't be open till to-morrow, and that I shall depend on
+dining with you all to-day."
+
+
+
+
+THE OBLIGING YOUNG MAN.
+
+
+"Cars ready for Boston and way stations!" shouted the conductor of a
+railroad train, as the steamhorse, harnessed for his twenty mile trip,
+stood chafing, snorting, and coughing, throwing up angry puffs of
+mingled gray and dingy vapor from his sturdy lungs. "Cars ready for
+Boston and way stations!"
+
+"O, yes!" replied a brisk young man, with a bright eye, peculiar
+smirk, spotted neckcloth, and gray gaiters with pearl buttons. "Cars
+ready for Boston and way stations. All aboard. Now's your time--quick,
+or you'll lose 'em. Now then, ma'am."
+
+"But, sir," remonstrated the old lady he addressed, and whom he was
+urging at the steps of a first class car.
+
+"O, never mind!" replied the brisk young man. "Know what you're going
+to say--too much trouble--none whatever, I assure you. Perfect
+stranger, true--but scriptural injunction, do as you'd be done by. In
+with you--ding! ding!--there's the bell--off we go."
+
+And so in fact they did go off at forty miles an hour.
+
+"But, sir," said the old lady, trembling violently.
+
+"I see," interrupted the OBLIGING YOUNG MAN; "want a
+seat--here it is--a great bargain--cars full--quick, or you'll lose
+it."
+
+"But, sir," said the old lady, with nervous trepidation, "I--I--wasn't
+going to Boston."
+
+"The deuce you weren't. Well, well, well, why couldn't you say so?
+Hullo! Conductor! Stop the cars!"
+
+"Can't do it," replied the conductor. "This train don't stop short of
+Woburn watering station."
+
+"Woburn watering station!" whimpered the old woman, wringing her
+hands. "O, what shall I do?"
+
+"Sit still; take it easy--no use crying for spilt milk; what can't be
+cured must be endured. I'll look out sharp; you might have saved
+yourself all this trouble."
+
+Away went the cars, racketting and oscillating, while the obliging
+young man was looking round for another recipient of his good
+services.
+
+"Ha!" he muttered to himself. "There's a poor young fellow quite
+alone. Lovesick, perhaps; pale cheek--sunken eye--never told his love;
+but let--Shakspeare--I'm his man! Must look out for the old woman.
+Here we are, ma'am, fifteen miles to Lowell--out with you--look out
+for the cars on the back track. Good by--pleasant trip!"
+
+Ding dong, went the bell again.
+
+"Hullo! here's her bundle! Catch, there--heads! All right--get on,
+driver!"
+
+And having tossed a bundle after the old woman, he resumed his seat.
+
+"Confound it!" roared a fat man in a blue spencer. "You're treading on
+my corns."
+
+"Beg pardon," said the obliging young man. "Bad things,
+corns,--'trifling sum of misery new added to the foot of your
+account;' old author--name forgotten. Never mind--drive on!"
+
+"But where's my bundle?" asked the fat man. "Conductor! Where's my
+bundle? Brown paper--red string. Saw it here a moment since."
+
+The conductor knew nothing about it. The obliging young man did. It
+was the same he had thrown out after the old woman.
+
+"You'll find it some where," he said, with a consolatory wink. "Can't
+lose a brown paper bundle. I've tried--often--always turned up; little
+boy sure to bring it. 'Here's your bundle, sir; ninepence, please.'
+All right--go ahead!"
+
+Here the obliging young man took his seat beside the pale-faced youth.
+
+"Ill health, sir?"
+
+"No, sir," replied the pale-faced youth, fidgeting.
+
+"Mental malady--eh?"
+
+The young man sighed.
+
+"See it all. Don't say a word, man! Cupid, heart from heart, forced to
+part. Flinty-hearted father?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Flinty-hearted mother?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Flinty-hearted aunt?"
+
+The lovesick young man sighed, and nodded assent.
+
+"Tell me the story. I'm a stranger--but my heart is here, sir."
+Whereupon the obliging young man referred to a watch pocket in his
+plaid vest, and nodded with a great deal of intelligence. "Tell me
+all--like to serve my fellows--no other occupation; out with it, as
+the doctor said to the little boy that swallowed his sister's
+necklace."
+
+The lovesick youth informed the obliging young man that he loved and
+was beloved by a young lady of Boston, whose aunt, acting as her
+guardian, opposed his suit. He was going to Boston to put a plan of
+elopement into operation. He had prepared two letters, one to the aunt
+renouncing his hopes, to throw her off her guard; the other to the
+young lady, appointing a meeting at the Providence cars. The
+difficulty was to get the letters delivered. This the obliging young
+man readily undertook to do in person. Both the aunt and niece bore
+the same name--Emeline Brown; but the aunt's letter was sealed with
+black, the niece's with red wax. The letters were delivered with many
+injunctions to the obliging young man, and the two new-made friends
+parted on the arrival of the cars in Boston.
+
+The Providence cars were just getting ready to start, when, amid all
+the bustle and confusion, a pale-faced young man "might have been
+seen," as Mr. James, the novelist, says, nervously pacing to and fro,
+and occasionally darting into Pleasant Street, and scrutinizing every
+approaching passenger and vehicle. At last, when there was but a
+single moment to spare, a hack drove up furiously, and a veiled lady
+hastily descended, and gave her hand to her expectant admirer.
+
+"Quick, Emeline, or we shall lose the train!"
+
+The enamoured couple were soon seated beside each other, and whirling
+away to Providence. The lady said little, but sat with downcast head
+and veiled face, apparently overwhelmed with confusion at the step she
+had taken. But it was enough for young Dovekin to know she was beside
+him, and he poured forth an unbroken stream of delicious nonsense,
+till the train arrived at its destination.
+
+In the station house the lady lifted her veil. Horror and confusion!
+It was the aunt! The obliging young man had delivered the wrong
+letter.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Miss Brown, "I am the person whom you qualified, in
+your letter intended for my niece, as a 'hateful hag, in whose eyes
+you were throwing dust'. What do you say to that, sir?"
+
+"Say!" replied the disconsolate Dovekin. "It's no use to say any
+thing; for it is my settled purpose to spring over the parapet of the
+railroad bridge and seek oblivion in a watery grave. But first, if I
+could find that obliging young man, I'd be the death of him."
+
+"No you wouldn't," said the voice of that interesting individual, as
+he made his appearance with a lady on his arm. "Here she is--take
+her--be happy. After I'd given the notes, mind misgave me--went back
+to the house--found the aunt gone--niece in tears--followed
+after--same train--last car--here she is!"
+
+"I hope this will be a lesson," said Dovekin.
+
+"So it is. Henceforth, I shall mind my own business; for every thing
+I've undertaken lately, on other folks' account, has gone amiss. Come,
+aunty, give your blessing--let 'em go. Train ready--I'm off--best of
+wishes--good by. Cars ready for Boston and way stations!--all aboard."
+
+The aunt gave her blessing; and this was the last that any of the
+party saw of the _Obliging Young Man_.
+
+
+
+
+EULALIE LASALLE.
+
+A STORY OF THE REIGN OF TERROR.
+
+    O, what was love made for if 'twas not for this,
+    The same amidst sorrow, and transport, and bliss?
+
+                                                 MOORE.
+
+
+The fanaticism of the French revolutionists had reached its height;
+the excitable population, intoxicated with power, and maddened by the
+vague dread of the retribution of despair, goaded on by profligate,
+ferocious, or insane leaders, was plunging into the most revolting and
+sanguinary excesses. The son of St. Louis had ascended to heaven, the
+beautiful and unfortunate Marie Antoinette had laid her head upon the
+block, the baby heir of the throne of the Capets was languishing in
+the hands of his keepers, and the Girondists, the true friends of
+republican liberty, were silenced by exile or the scaffold. In short,
+the Reign of Terror, the memorable sway of Robespierre, hung like a
+funeral pall upon the land which was fast becoming a vast cemetery.
+The provincial towns, faithful echoes of the central capital, were
+repeating the theme of horror with a thousand variations. Each
+considerable city had its guillotine, and where that instrument of
+punishment was wanting, the fusillade or the mitraille supplied its
+place.
+
+At this crisis, Eugene Beauvallon, a young merchant of Toulouse,
+presented himself one morning in the drawing room of Mademoiselle
+Eulalie Lasalle, an orphan girl of great beauty and accomplishment, to
+whom he had long been betrothed, and whom he would ere this have
+married but for the political troubles of the period. Eulalie was a
+graceful creature, slenderly and symmetrically formed, with soft blue
+eyes, and an exceedingly gentle expression, which was indicative of
+her character. She seemed too fair and fragile to buffet with the
+storms of life, and ill fitted to endure its troubles, created to be
+the idol of a drawing room, the fairy queen of a boudoir.
+
+Eugene was a handsome, manly fellow, of great energy and character.
+The revolution surprised him in the act of making a fortune; the
+whirlwind had stripped him of most of his property, but had yet left
+him liberty and life. He had contrived to avoid rendering himself
+obnoxious to the sansculottes without securing their confidence. The
+tri-colored cockade which he wore in his hat shielded him from the
+fatal epithet of aristocrat--a certain passport to the guillotine.
+
+Beauvallon then seated himself beside Eulalie, who was struck with the
+radiant expression of his countenance, and begged to know the reason
+of his joyous excitement.
+
+"I have good news to tell you," he said, gayly; "but we are not
+alone," he added, stopping short, as his eyes rested on the sinister
+face of an old woman, humbly attired, who was busily engaged in
+knitting, not far from the lovers.
+
+"O, don't mind poor old Mannette," said Eulalie. "The poor old
+creature is past hearing thunder. It is a woman, Eugene, I rescued
+from absolute starvation, and she is so grateful, and seems so
+desirous of doing something to render herself useful, that I am
+mortified almost at her sense of the obligation."
+
+"I hope she has not supplanted your pretty _femme de chambre_, Julie,
+of whom you threatened to be jealous. My admiration, I hope, has not
+cost the girl her place."
+
+"O, dear, no! I couldn't part with Julie!" replied Eulalie, laughing
+gayly. "But come, you must not tantalize me--what has occurred to make
+you so gay, at a time when every true Frenchman wears a face of
+mourning?"
+
+"The Marquis de Montmorenci is at liberty."
+
+"At liberty? How happened it that the Revolutionary Tribunal acquitted
+him?"
+
+"Acquitted him! Eulalie, does the tiger that has once tasted the blood
+of his prey permit him to escape? Is Robespierre more lenient than the
+beast of prey? No, Eulalie, he escaped by the aid of a true friend. He
+fled from Paris, reached Toulouse, and found shelter under my roof!"
+
+The cheek of Eulalie turned ashy pale. "Under your roof!" she
+faltered. "Do you know the penalty of sheltering a fugitive from
+justice?"
+
+"It is death upon the scaffold," answered the young merchant, calmly.
+"But better that a thousand times than the sin of ingratitude; the sin
+of turning a deaf ear to the claims of humanity."
+
+"My own noble Eugene!" exclaimed the young girl, enthusiastically,
+pressing her lover's hand. "Every day increases my love, my respect
+for you, and my sense of my own unworthiness. But you will never have
+to blush for the inferiority of your wife."
+
+"What do you mean, dearest?" inquired Eugene, with alarm.
+
+"This is no time for marriage," said Eulalie, sadly. "Images of death
+and violence meet our eyes whichever way they turn. We were born,
+Eugene, in melancholy times, and our loves are misplaced. We shall
+meet hereafter; on this earth, I fear, our destinies will never be
+united."
+
+"Prophetess of evil!" said Beauvallon, gayly. "Your rosy lips belie
+your gloomy augury. No, Eulalie, this dark cloud cannot forever
+overshadow the land--even now I think I can see glimpses of the blue
+sky. _Le bon temps viendra_,--the good time is coming,--and then,
+Eulalie, be sure that I will claim your promised hand."
+
+The conversation of the lovers had been so animated and interesting
+that they did not notice the moment when old Mannette had glided like
+a spectre from the apartment.
+
+Beauvallon lingered a while,--"parting is such sweet sorrow,"--and
+finally reluctantly tore himself from the presence of Eulalie,
+promising to see her again on the ensuing day, and let her know
+whatever had transpired in the interim.
+
+As he approached the street in which his store and house were
+situated, he heard the confused murmur of a multitude, and soon
+perceived, on turning the corner, that a very large crowd was
+collected outside his door. There were men and women--many of the
+former armed with pikes and sabres--the latter, the refuse of the
+populace, who appeared like birds of evil omen at every scene of
+violence and tumult.
+
+A hundred voices called out his name as he approached, and menacing
+gestures were addressed to him by the multitude.
+
+"Citizens," said the merchant, "what is the meaning of all this?"
+
+"You shall know, traitor," shrieked a palsied hag of eighty, whose
+lurid eyes had already gloated on every public execution that had
+taken place in Toulouse. "Here is Citizen Dumart of the revolutionary
+committee--ah, _he_ is a true friend of the people--he is no
+aristocrat in disguise! _Vive le Citoyen Dumart!_"
+
+"Long live Citizen Dumart! Down with the aristocrats!" shouted a
+hundred voices.
+
+The Citizen Dumart was a sallow-faced man, dressed in rusty black,
+wearing an enormous tri-colored cockade in his three-cornered hat,
+with a sash of the same color girt around his waist. His bloodshot
+eyes expressed a mixture of cowardice with ferocity. He was flanked by
+a couple of pikemen as hideous as the Afrites of Eastern romance.
+
+"Citizen Beauvallon," said he, in a voice whose tremor betrayed his
+native timidity, "I arrest you in the name of the revolutionary
+committee of Toulouse. Citizen Beauvallon, it is useless to resist the
+authority of the representatives of the people; if you have any
+concealed weapons about you, I advise you to surrender them. You see I
+stand here protected by the arms of the people."
+
+"I have no weapons," replied Beauvallon. "I have no sinister designs.
+I know not why I am arrested. Acquaint me with the charge, and
+confront me with my accusers."
+
+"Seize upon the prisoner!" cried Dumart to his satellites. And he
+breathed freer when he saw the merchant in the gripe of two muscular
+ruffians, whose iron hands compressed his wrists as if they were
+manacles.
+
+"Away with him!" screamed the hag who had spoken before. "Away with
+him to the revolutionary committee! Down with the aristocrats!"
+
+Followed by the imprecations of the crowd, Beauvallon was conducted to
+the town house, and in a very few moments was placed at the bar of the
+revolutionary committee--a body invested with the power of life and
+death. On his way thither he had found means to speak a word to an
+acquaintance in the crowd, and to beg him to inform Eulalie of what
+had happened.
+
+So soon as he had heard the accusation read, and knew that he was
+charged with the crime of aiding the Marquis de Montmorenci, a
+fugitive from justice, he felt that his situation was indeed critical;
+but mingled with his astonishment and dread was a curiosity to learn
+whence his denunciation could have proceeded--who could have lodged
+the information against him. He was not long kept in suspense, for the
+witness brought on the stand to confront him was no other than
+Mannette, the supposed deaf servant of Eulalie Lasalle, who had
+overheard his confession of the morning, and hastened to denounce him.
+Though his sentence was not immediately pronounced, and the decision
+of his case was deferred till the next day, Beauvallon felt that his
+doom was sealed.
+
+He was conveyed to a house in the vicinity of the town hall for
+confinement, as the prisons were all overstocked. His jailer was a man
+whom the merchant had formerly befriended, and whose heart was not
+inaccessible to emotions of pity, though he was above bribery, and
+evidently determined to execute his duty to the letter.
+
+"I have a favor to ask of you, my friend," said the prisoner, slipping
+a golden louis into his hand.
+
+"If it is one that I can grant without violating my duty," replied the
+jailer, returning the money to Beauvallon, "I will do so for the sake
+of old times, but not for gold."
+
+Beauvallon explained that he wished to send a note to Mlle. Lasalle,
+requesting her to visit him in prison--an interview which would
+probably be their last, and the jailer undertook readily to see the
+missive delivered, and to permit the visit. The note having been
+despatched, Beauvallon sat down to wait for the arrival of his
+mistress.
+
+The sad hours passed away,--but though he learned from the jailer that
+his errand had been performed, no Eulalie made her appearance.
+
+"She forsakes me!" he muttered bitterly. "The wounded deer is
+abandoned by the herd, and an unfortunate man is shunned by his
+fellows. Well, the dream was pleasant while it lasted--the regret of
+awakening can scarce be tedious--a few hours, and all the incidents of
+this transitory life will be forgotten. But Eulalie--whom I loved
+better than my life itself--it is hard to die without one word from
+thee."
+
+When on the following day Beauvallon was again taken before the
+revolutionary committee, he looked anxiously around the court room to
+see if he could discover the face of Eulalie among the spectators,
+many of whom were women. But he was disappointed. Her absence
+convinced him that she had abandoned him, and wholly absorbed by this
+reflection, he paid no attention to the formula of his trial. He was
+condemned to death, the sentence to be executed on the following day.
+
+"Mr. President," said he, rising, "I thank you, and I have merely one
+favor to ask. Anticipate the time of punishment--let it be to-day
+instead of to-morrow--let me go hence to the scaffold."
+
+"Your request is reasonable," replied the president, in a bland voice,
+"and if circumstances permitted, it would afford me the greatest
+pleasure to grant it. But the guillotine requires repair, and will not
+be in a condition to perform its functions until to-morrow, at which
+time, Citizen Beauvallon, at the hour of ten, A.M., you will have
+ceased to exist. Good night, and pleasant dreams!"
+
+This sally was received with roars of applause, and the unhappy
+prisoner was reconducted to the place of confinement.
+
+That night was a sleepless one. Beauvallon's arrest, his speedy trial
+and condemnation, the desertion of Eulalie, had followed each other
+with such stunning rapidity, that, until now, he had hardly time to
+reflect upon the dismal chain of circumstances--now they pressed upon
+his attention, and crowded his mind to overflowing. At midnight, as he
+lay tossing on his bed, upon which he had thrown himself without
+undressing, he thought he heard a confused noise in the apartment of
+the next house adjoining his. The noise increased. He placed his hand
+upon the wall, and felt it jar under successive shocks. Suddenly a
+current of air blew in upon him, and at the same time a faint ray of
+light streamed through an opening in the partition.
+
+"Courage!" said a soft voice. "The opening enlarges. Now, Julie!"
+
+Julie! Beauvallon was sure he heard the name, and yet uncertain
+whether or not he was dreaming.
+
+"Julie!" he exclaimed, cautiously.
+
+"Yes, monsieur--it is Julie--sure enough," answered a pleasant voice.
+
+"Then you, at least, have not forgotten me."
+
+"No one who has once known you can ever forget you. Courage! you will
+soon be free. Aid us if you can."
+
+"Then you are not alone?"
+
+"Have patience, and you will see."
+
+His own exertions, added to those of his friends without, soon enabled
+the prisoner to force his way into the next house; but there
+disappointment awaited him. Two soldiers in the uniform of the
+_gensdarmerie_ stood before him.
+
+"_On ne passe par ici_,--you can't pass here,"--said one.
+
+"What cruel mockery is this?" cried Beauvallon. "Is it not enough that
+I am condemned to death, but you must subject me to an atrocious
+pleasantry? This is refinement of cruelty."
+
+"It seems that our disguise is perfect, Julie," said the soldier who
+had not yet spoken. "Eugene does not know his best friends."
+
+In an instant the speaker was folded in the arms of Beauvallon. It was
+Eulalie herself, as bewitchingly beautiful in her uniform as in the
+habiliments of her sex. She hurriedly explained that the moment she
+heard of Eugene's arrest, she prepared to meet the worst contingency.
+She had already converted her money into cash. Learning the place of
+his imprisonment, she had hired, through the agency of another person,
+the adjoining house, which happened to be unoccupied. The task of
+making an aperture in the partition was an easy one--the difficulty of
+passing through the city was greater. The idea of military disguises
+then occurred. Julie and herself had already equipped themselves, and
+they were provided with a uniform for Beauvallon.
+
+Secured by this costume, the three fugitives ventured forth. In the
+great square of the city, workmen were busily employed in repairing
+the hideous engine of death, and Beauvallon passed, not without a
+shudder, beneath the very shadow of the guillotine, to which he had
+been doomed.
+
+Seated on the cold ground, beneath the fatal apparatus, was an old
+woman muttering to herself.
+
+"Good evening, citizens," said she. "We shall have a fine day for the
+show to-morrow. Look how the bonny stars are winking and blinking on
+the gay knife blade they've been sharpening. It will be darker and
+redder when the clock strikes ten again. Down with the aristocrats!"
+
+The fugitives needed no more to quicken their steps. They reached the
+frontiers in safety, and beyond the Rhine, in the hospitable land of
+Germany, the lovers were united; nor did they return to France till
+the star of Robespierre had set in blood, and the master mind of
+Napoleon had placed its impress on the destinies of France.
+
+
+
+
+THE OLD CITY PUMP.
+
+
+Many evenings since, we were passing up State Street late at night.
+State Street at midnight is a very different affair from State Street
+at high noon. The shadows of the tall buildings fall on a deserted
+thoroughfare; save where, here and there, a spectral bank watchman
+keeps ward over the granite sepulchres of golden eagles, and the
+flimsier representatives of wealth. The bulls and bears have retired
+to their dens, and East India merchants are invisible. Newsboys are
+nowhere, and every sound has died away. There stands the Old State
+House, peculiar and picturesque, rising with a look of other days, a
+relic of past time, against the deep blue sky, or webbing the full
+moon with the delicate tracery of its slender spars and signal
+halliards. And there stands--no! there stood the old Town Pump. But it
+is no more--_Ilium fuit_ was written on its forehead--it has been
+reformed out of office, its occupation has gone, its handle has been
+amputated, its body has been dissected, and there is nothing of it
+left.
+
+Yet on the evening to which we alluded in the beginning, the old pump
+was there, and crossing over from the Merchants Bank, we leaned
+against its handle, as one leans against the arm of an old friend, in
+a musing, idle mood. Presently we heard a gurgling sound and confused
+murmurs issuing from its lips--"like airy tongues that syllable men's
+names." Anon these murmurs shaped themselves into distinct
+articulations, and as we listened, wonderingly, the old pump spoke:--
+
+"Past twelve o'clock, and a moonlight night. All well, as I'm a pump.
+Nobody breaking into banks, and nobody kicking up rows--watchmen fast
+asleep, and every body quiet. But I can't sleep. No! the city
+government has murdered sleep! There's something heavy on my buckets,
+and I fear me, I'm a gone sucker! They thought I couldn't find out
+what they were up to--the municipal government--but I'm a deep one,
+and I know every thing that's going for'ard. What a jolly go, to be
+sure! They told me Mayor Bigelow hated proscription--but I knew it was
+gammon! He must follow the fashion, and Cochituate is all the go.
+There ain't no pumps now--it's all fountain! Pump water is full of
+animalculę, and straddle bugs don't exist in pond water--of course
+not. Nobody ever see young pollywogs and snapping turtles floating
+down stream in fly-time. Certainly not! I'm getting old--of course I
+am; that's the talk! I've been in office too long. Well, well, I know
+I'm rather asthmatic and phthisicky--but nobody ever knowed me to
+suck, even in the driest time. These living waters have welled up even
+from the time when the salt sea was divided from the land, and the
+rocks were cloven by the hand of Omnipotence, and the sweet spring
+came bursting upward from the fragrant earth, and light and flowers
+came together to welcome the birthday of the glad and glorious gift.
+Here, many a century back, the giant mastodon trod the earth into deep
+hollows, as he moved upon his sounding path. Then came another time.
+In the hollow of the three hills, the Indian raised his bark wigwam,
+and the smoke of his council fire curled up like a mist-wreath in the
+forest. Here the red man filled the wild gourd cup when he returned
+weary from the chase or the skirmish. And here, too, the Indian
+maiden smoothed her dark locks, and her lustrous, laughing eyes gazed
+upon the image of her own dusky beauty, mirrored on the surface of the
+wave. By and by the red man ceased to drink of my unfailing rill.
+Beings with pale faces came to me to quench their thirst; bearded lips
+were moistened with my diamond drops; and I looked up upon iron
+corselet and steel hauberk, and faces harder than either. But the old
+Puritans gave me form and substance--a 'local habitation and a name.'
+The spirit of the fountain was wedded to its present tabernacle. The
+dwellings of men sprang up around me in the place of the departing
+forest. I gave them all a cheerful welcome. If the colonists worked
+hard, I worked harder yet. I filled their pails and cups, and revived
+their failing hearts, and cheered their unremitting labors. They
+called me their friend. The pretty girls smiled upon me, as, under
+pretence of levying contributions on my treasures, they chatted with
+young men who gathered at my side. Then came a sterner period. I heard
+no more love tales--no more idle gossip. Men stood here, and spoke of
+deep wrong, of tyranny, of trampled rights, of resistance, of liberty!
+That was a word I had not heard since the red man drank of my
+unfettered tide. One night, there was a great gathering here. There
+were men and boys, a multitude. There was much angry talk and much
+confusion. Then I heard the roll of the drum and the regular tramp of
+an armed force. A band of British soldiers, all resplendent with
+scarlet, and gold, and burnished muskets that glittered in the
+moonbeams, were formed into line at the command of an officer, and
+confronted the dark array of citizens. Then came an angry
+discussion--orders on the part of the commander for the multitude to
+disperse, which were unheeded or disobeyed. Then that line of
+glittering tubes was levelled. I heard the fatal word "fire!" the
+flame leaped from the muzzles of the muskets, and the volley crashed
+and echoed in the street. Blood flowed upon the pavement--the blood of
+citizens mingled with my waters, and I was the witness of a fearful
+tragedy. In after times, I heard it named the Boston Massacre. Since
+then, I have seen hours of sunshine and triumph, of fun and frolic, of
+anger and rejoicing. My waters have laved the dust that it might not
+soil the uniform of Washington as he rode past on his snow-white
+charger, amid the acclamations of the multitude. I have seen Hull and
+his tars pass up the street, bearing the stripes and stars in triumph
+from the war of the ocean. I have heard long-winded orators spout over
+my head in emulation of my craft, "in one weak, washy, everlasting
+flood." I have seen many a military, many a civic pageant. The last I
+witnessed was, as Dick Swiveller remarks, a 'stifler.' It was that
+confounded Water Celebration. Republics _is_ ungrateful. I was
+forgotten on that occasion. Nobody drank at the old city pump. People
+sat on my head and stood on my nose, just as if I had no feelings. I
+heard a young lady in the gallery overhead say, 'Well, that horrid old
+pump will soon be out of the way now.' And a city father answered her,
+'Of course.' It was a workin' then--treason and fate, and all them
+things. I knew they were going to 'put me out of my misery,' as the
+saying goes. I'm getting superannuated--I heard 'em say so. Sometimes
+an office boy tastes a drop, and then turns up his nose,--as if it
+wasn't pug enough before,--and says, 'What horrid stuff! the
+Cochituate for my money!' General Washington's canteen was filled
+here--and he said, 'Delicious!' when he raised it to his lips. But he
+was no judge, of course not. Time was when I wasn't slow but I'm not
+fast enough for this generation. When folks write letters with
+lightning, and sail ships with tea-kettles, pumps can't come it over
+'em. Well, well, I'll hold out to the last--I'll make 'em carry me off
+and bury me decently at the city's expense, and perhaps some kind old
+friend will write my epitaph."
+
+The old pump was mute--the speech was ended--its "song had died into
+an echo." We passed on mournful and thoughtful. Republics are
+ungrateful--old friends are forgotten with a change of fashion, and
+there is a period to the greatness of town pumps as well as the glory
+of individuals.
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO PORTRAITS.
+
+
+"Beautiful! beautiful!" exclaimed Ernest Lavalle, as, throwing himself
+back in his chair, he contemplated, with eyes half shut, a lovely
+countenance that smiled on him from a canvas, to which he had just
+added a few hesitating touches. It was but a sketch--little more than
+outline and dead coloring, and a misty haze seemed spread over the
+face, so that it looked vision-like and intangible. The young
+painter's exclamation was not addressed to his workmanship--he was not
+even looking at that faint image; but, through its medium, was gazing
+on lineaments as rare and fascinating as ever floated through a poet's
+or an artist's dream. Deep, lustrous blue eyes, in whose depth
+sincerity and feeling lay crystallized; features as regular as those
+of a Grecian statue; a lip melting, ripe, and dewy, half concealing,
+half revealing, a line of pearls; soft brown hair, descending in waves
+upon a neck and shoulders of satin surface and Parian firmness. Such
+were some of the external traits of loveliness belonging to
+
+    "A creature not too bright and good
+    For human nature's daily food,"
+
+who had completely actualized the ideal of the young Parisian artist,
+into whose studio we have introduced our readers. The fair original,
+whose portrait is before us, was Rose d'Amour, a beautiful actress of
+one of the metropolitan theatres, who had just made her debut with
+distinguished success. There was quite a romance in her history. Of
+unknown parents, she had commenced her career--like the celebrated
+Rachel--as a street singer, and was looking forward to no more
+brilliant future, when her beauty, genius, and purity of character
+attracted the attention of a distinguished newspaper editor, by whose
+benevolent generosity she was enabled to prepare herself for the
+stage, by two or three years of assiduous study. The success of his
+protégée more than repaid the kind patron for his exertions and
+expenditure.
+
+A word of Ernest Lavalle, and it shall suffice. He was the son of a
+humble vine dresser in one of the agricultural departments of France.
+His talent for drawing, early manifested, attracted the notice of his
+parish priest, whose earnest representations induced his father to
+send the boy to Paris, and give him the advantages afforded by the
+capital for students of art. In the great city, Ernest allowed none of
+the attractions, by which he was surrounded, to divert him from the
+assiduous pursuit of his beloved art. His mornings were passed in the
+gallery of the Louvre, his afternoons in private study, and his
+evenings at the academy, where he drew from casts and the living
+model. The only relaxation he permitted himself, was an occasional
+excursion in the picturesque environs of the French capital; and he
+always took his sketch book with him, thus making even his pleasure
+subservient to his studies. Two prizes obtained, for a drawing and a
+picture, secured for him the patronage of the academy, at whose
+expense he was sent to Italy, to pursue his studies in the famous
+galleries of Rome and Florence. He returned with a mind imbued with
+the beauty and majesty of the works of those great masters, whose
+glory will outlive the canvas and marble which achieved it,
+determined to win for himself a niche in the temple of Fame, or perish
+in his laborious efforts to obtain it. At this time he was in his
+twenty-second year. A vigorous constitution was his heritage; and his
+rounded cheek glowed with the warm color of health. His strictly
+classical features were enhanced by the luxuriance of his hair, which
+he wore flowing in its native curls, while his full beard and mustache
+relieved his face from the charge of effeminacy.
+
+Ernest was yet engaged in the contemplation of the unfinished work--or
+rather in dreaming of the bright original--when a light tap was heard
+at his door. He opened it eagerly, and his poor studio was suddenly
+illuminated, as it were, by the radiant apparition of Rose d'Amour.
+She was dressed with a charming simplicity, which well became a sylph
+like form, that required no adventitious aid from art.
+
+"Good morning, Monsieur Lavalle!" said the beautiful actress,
+cheerfully, as she dropped gracefully into the _fauteuil_ prepared for
+her reception. "You find me in the best possible humor to-day, thanks
+to this bright morning sun, and to the success of last night. _Mon
+Dieu!_ so many bouquets! you can't think! Really, the life of an
+_artiste_ begins to be amusing. Don't you find it so, as a painter?"
+
+"I confess to you, mademoiselle, I have my moments of despondency."
+
+"With your fine talent! Think better of yourself. I hope, at least,
+that I have not been so unlucky as to surprise you in one of those
+inopportune moments."
+
+"Ah, mademoiselle," said the painter, "if it were so, one of your
+smiles would dispel the cloud in a moment."
+
+"Really!" replied the actress, gayly. "Are you quite sure there is no
+flattery in the remark? I am aware that flattery is an essential part
+of an artist's profession."
+
+"Not of a true artist's," replied Ernest. "The aim and end of all art
+is truth; and he who forgets it is untrue to his high mission."
+
+"True," said the lady. "Well, then, _faites votre possible_--as
+Napoleon said to his friend David--for I am anxious that this portrait
+shall be a _chef-d'oeuvre_. I design it for a present."
+
+"With such a subject before me," replied the painter "I could not
+labor more conscientiously, if the picture were designed for myself."
+
+The sitting passed away rapidly, for the artist; and he was surprised
+when the lady, after consulting her watch, rose hastily, and
+exclaimed, "That odious rehearsal! I must leave you--but you ought to
+be satisfied, for I have given you two hours of my valuable time.
+Adieu, then, until to-morrow."
+
+With a smile that seemed natural to her, the beautiful girl vanished,
+taking with her half the sunshine of the room.
+
+The painter continued his labor of love. Indeed, so absorbed was he in
+his employment, that he did not notice the entrance of a visitor,
+until he felt a light tap on his shoulder, accompanied by the words,--
+
+"Bravo, _mon cher_! You are getting on famously. That is Rose
+herself--as radiant as she appears on the stage, when the focus of a
+_lorgnette_ has excluded all the stupid and _ennuyantes_ figures that
+surround her."
+
+The speaker was Sir Frederic Stanley, an English baronet, now some
+months in Paris, where he had plunged into all the gayeties of the
+season. He was a handsome man, of middle age, whose features bore the
+impress of dissipation.
+
+"You know the original, then?" asked the painter, somewhat coldly.
+
+"Know her! My dear fellow, I don't know any body else, as the Yankees
+say. Why, I have the entry of the _Gaité_, and pass all my evenings
+behind the scenes. I flatter myself--but no matter. I have taken a
+fancy to that picture: what do you say to a hundred louis for it?"
+
+"It is not for me to dispose of it."
+
+"You have succeeded so well, you wish to keep it for yourself--eh?
+Double the price, and let me have it!"
+
+"Impossible, Sir Frederic. It is painted for Mlle. d'Amour herself,
+and she designs it for a present."
+
+"Say no more," said the baronet, with a self-satisfied smile. "I think
+I could name the happy individual."
+
+Ernest would not gratify his visitor by a question, and the latter,
+finding the artist reserved and _distrait_, suddenly recollected the
+races at Chantilly, and took his leave.
+
+"Can it be possible," thought the painter, "that Rose has suffered her
+affections to repose on that conceited, purse-proud, elderly
+Englishman? O, woman! woman! how readily you barter the wealth of your
+heart for a handful of gold!"
+
+Another tap at the door--another visitor! Really, Lavalle must be
+getting famous! This time it is a lady--a lady of surpassing
+loveliness--one of those well-preserved Englishwomen, who, at forty,
+are as attractive as at twenty. This lady was tall and stately, with
+elegant manners, and perhaps a thought of sadness in her expression.
+She gazed long and earnestly upon the portrait of Rose d'Amour.
+
+"It is a beautiful face!" she said, at length. "And one that
+indicates, I should think, goodness of heart."
+
+"She is an angel!" said the painter.
+
+"You speak warmly, sir," said the lady, with a sad smile.
+
+Ernest blushed, for he feared that he had betrayed his secret. The
+lady did not appear to notice his embarrassment, and passed to the
+occasion of her visit, which was to engage the young artist to paint
+her portrait--a task which he readily undertook, for he was pleased
+with, and interested in, his fair patroness. The picture was
+immediately commenced, and an hour fixed for a second sitting, on the
+next day. It was on that occasion that the fair unknown encountered
+the actress, and they retired in company.
+
+The two portraits were finished at the same time, and reflected the
+greatest credit upon the artist. They were varnished, framed, and paid
+for, but the painter had received no orders for their final
+disposition, when, one morning, he was waited on by the two ladies,
+who informed him that they should call upon him the following day,
+when the two portraits would be presented, in his study, to the
+persons for whom they were designed. The artist was enjoined to place
+them on two separate easels,--that of the actress to stand nearest the
+door of the studio, and both to be concealed by a curtain until the
+ladies should give the signal for their exposure. The portrait of the
+English lady, we will here remark, had, by her request, been hitherto
+seen only by the artist. There was a mystery in this arrangement,
+which piqued, excessively, the curiosity of the painter, and he was
+anxious to witness the _denouement_.
+
+The next day, at eleven o'clock, every thing was in readiness, and the
+painter awaited the solution of the mystery.
+
+The first person who presented himself was Sir Frederic Stanley. He
+was very radiant.
+
+"Congratulate me, _mon cher_," said he. "Read that."
+
+Ernest took an open note from his hand, and read as follows:--
+
+     "Be at the studio of Ernest Lavalle, to-morrow, at eleven.
+     You will there receive a present, which, if there be any
+     truth in man's vows, will certainly delight you.
+
+                                                 "Rose."
+
+The astonishment and disappointment of Ernest was at its height, when
+his door opened, and the actress entered, followed by a female,
+closely veiled.
+
+"You are true to your appointment, Sir Frederic," said the actress,
+gayly, "and your punctuality shall be rewarded."
+
+She advanced to the farther easel, and, lifting the curtain, disclosed
+the features of the English lady.
+
+"This is for you!" she said, laughing.
+
+"My wife! by all that's wonderful!" exclaimed the baronet.
+
+"Accompanied by the original!" said Lady Stanley, as she unveiled and
+advanced. "Sir Frederic! Sir Frederic! when you were amusing yourself,
+by paying unmeaning attentions to this young lady, I am afraid you
+forgot to tell her that you had a wife in England."
+
+"I thought it unnecessary," stammered the baronet.
+
+"How could you disturb the peace of mind of a young girl, when you
+knew you could not requite her affection?" continued Lady Stanley.
+
+"It was only a flirtation, to pass the time," said Sir Frederic; "but
+I acknowledge it was culpable. My dear Emeline, I thank you for your
+present. I shall ever cherish it as my dearest possession--next to
+yourself."
+
+"For you, sir," said the beautiful actress, turning to Ernest, "I
+cannot think of depriving you of your best effort. Take the portrait.
+I wish the subject were worthier." And she withdrew the curtain from
+her picture.
+
+"I am ungrateful," said Ernest, in a low and tremulous tone. "Much as
+I prize the picture, I can never be happy without the original."
+
+"Is it so?" replied the actress, in the same low tone of emotion;
+then, placing her hand timidly in his, she added, "The original is
+yours!"
+
+
+
+
+UNCLE OBED.
+
+A FULL LENGTH PORTRAIT IN PEN AND INK.
+
+
+Uncle Obed--we omit his family name for various reasons--lived away
+down east, in a small but flourishing village, where he occupied a
+snug house, and what with a little farming, a little fishing, a little
+hunting, and a little trading, contrived, not only to make both ends
+meet at the expiration of each year, but accumulated quite a little
+property.
+
+In personal appearance he was small, but muscular and wiry. He was far
+from handsome; a pug nose, set between a pair of gooseberry eyes, a
+long, straight mouth, a head of hair in which sandy red and iron gray
+were mixed together, did not give him a very fascinating aspect. He
+rarely smiled, but when he did, his smile was expressive of the
+deepest cunning.
+
+Uncle Obed had one grievous fault--an unhappy propensity for acquiring
+the property of others--"a natural proclivity," as General Pillow
+says, to stealing. The Spartans thought there was no harm in
+stealing--in fact that it was rather meritorious than otherwise,
+providing that it was never found out; and both in theory and
+practice, Uncle Obed was a thorough Spartan. A few of his exploits in
+this way will serve to show his extraordinary 'cuteness.
+
+A neighbor of his had a black heifer with a white face, which
+occasionally made irruptions into Uncle Obed's pasturage. One evening,
+Obed made a seizure of her, and tied her up in his barn. He then went
+to the owner of the animal.
+
+"Mr. Stagg," said he, "there's been a cantankerous heifer a breaking
+into my lot, and I've been a lookin' for her, and I've cotched her at
+last."
+
+"Well," said the unconscious Mr. Stagg, "I 'spose you're going to
+drive her to the pound."
+
+"No, I ain't," answered Uncle Obed, with the smile we have alluded to,
+"I know a trick worth two of that. I'm going to kill her; and if you
+won't say nothing to nobody, but'll come up to-night and help me, you
+shall hev the horns and hide for your trouble."
+
+"Done," said Mr. Stagg. "I'll come."
+
+In the mean time, Uncle Obed took a pot of black paint, and covered
+the white face of the heifer, so as to prevent recognition. The
+neighbor came up at night, and helped despatch his own "critter,"
+receiving the horns and hide for his pay, and laughing with Obed to
+think how cleverly the owner had been "done."
+
+The next day he missed his heifer, and called on Obed to ask if he had
+seen her.
+
+"I hain't seen her to-day," replied Uncle Obed, "but if you'll go to
+the tannery, where you sold that hide, and 'll just take the trouble
+to overhaul it, Mr. Stagg, prehaps you'll find out where your heifer
+is."
+
+_Pre_haps he did.
+
+On another occasion Uncle Obed appropriated--we scorn to charge him
+with stealing--a cow which had had the misfortune to lose her tail.
+Stepping into a tannery, he cut off a tail, and sewed it on to the
+fragment which yet decorated the hind quarters of the stolen animal.
+He then drove her along towards the next market, and having to cross a
+ferry, had just got on board the boat with his booty, when down came
+the owner of the missing cow, "bloody with spurring, fiery red with
+haste," and took passage on the same boat.
+
+He eyed his cow very sharply, while Uncle Obed stood quietly by,
+watching the result of the investigation.
+
+"That's a pretty good cow, ain't it?" said Uncle Obed.
+
+"Yes," replied the owner, "and if her tail was cut off, I could swear
+it was mine."
+
+Uncle Obed quietly took his knife out of his pocket, and cutting the
+tail short off _above_ where the false one was joined on, threw it
+into the river.
+
+"Now, neighbor," said he, triumphantly, "can you swear that's your
+cow?"
+
+"Of course not," said the owner. "But they look very much alike."
+
+After stealing something or other, we forget what, Uncle Obed was
+observed, and the sheriff was sent in pursuit of him, in hot haste,
+mounted on a fine and very fast horse. After a hard run, Uncle Obed
+halted at the edge of a rough piece of ground, pulled off his coat,
+and pulled down about a rod of stone wall, then quietly went to work
+building it up again, as if that was his regular occupation.
+
+Presently the sheriff came riding up on the spur, and reining in,
+asked Obed if he had seen a fellow running for his life.
+
+"Yes," said Obed, "I see him jest now streakin' it like a quarter hoss
+in _that_ direction," pointing off. "But he was pretty nigh blown, and
+I 'xpect you can catch him in about two minnits."
+
+"Well, just hold my horse," said the sheriff, "and I'll overhaul him."
+
+The sheriff scrambled over the stones and through the bushes in the
+direction indicated, and the moment he was out of sight, Uncle Obed
+jumped on the horse and rode off at the top of his speed. He rode his
+prize to a town a good ways off, and sold the horse for a hundred and
+fifty dollars.
+
+For some similar exploit, he was arrested and committed to jail in
+Essex county, to await his trial. But the prison being then in a
+process of repair, Uncle Obed, with other victims of the law, was
+incarcerated in the fort in Salem harbor. He made his escape, however,
+by crawling through the sewer, as Jack Sheppard did from Newgate
+prison. The sentinel on duty saw a mass of seaweed floating on the
+surface of the water. Now, this was nothing extraordinary, but it
+_was_ extraordinary for seaweed to float _against_ the tide. Uncle
+Obed's head was in that floating mass. He was hailed and ordered to
+swim back. He made no answer. A volley of musketry was discharged at
+him, but no boat being very handy, he got off and made his escape,
+very much after the manner of Rob Roy at the ford of Avondow.
+
+Uncle Obed had a famous black Newfoundland dog, worth from sixty to
+eighty dollars. When hard up, he used to take the dog about fifty or a
+hundred miles from home, where he was unknown, and sell him. No matter
+what the distance was, the dog always came back to his old master, who
+realized several hundred dollars by the repeated sales of him.
+
+Such were a few of the exploits of this departed worthy, actually
+vouched for by contemporaries. His passion for stealing was
+undoubtedly a monomania, for he was known in many cases to make
+voluntary restitution of articles that he had purloined, and his
+circumstances did not allow him the plea of necessity which palliates
+the errors of desperately poor rogues in every eye except that of the
+law.
+
+
+
+
+THE CASKET OF JEWELS.
+
+
+Mr. Luke Brandon was a Wall Street broker, of moderate business
+capacity, little education, and of plain manners, partaking of the
+rustic simplicity of his original employment--he was, in early life, a
+farmer in one of the western counties of New York. With less talent
+and more cunning, he might have become a very rich man, at short
+notice; but being brought up in an old-fashioned school of morality,
+he could never learn to dignify swindling by the epithet of smartness,
+nor consider overreaching his neighbor a "fair business transaction."
+Hence he plodded along the even tenor of his way, contented with
+moderate profits, and satisfied with the prospect of becoming
+independent by slow degrees.
+
+But in an evil hour, during a fortnight's relaxation at the Catskill
+Mountain House, this steady and respectable gentleman, at the mature
+age of thirty-five, quite an old bachelor indeed, fell desperately in
+love with a dashing girl of twenty, the orphan daughter of a bankrupt
+ship chandler. Miss Maria Manners was highly educated; that is, she
+could write short notes on perfumed billet paper, without making any
+orthographical or grammatical mistakes, had taken three quarters'
+lessons of a French barber, could work worsted lapdogs and embroider
+slippers, danced like a sylph, and played on the piano indifferently
+well. She had visited the Catskills on a matrimonial speculation, and
+made a dead set at poor Brandon. Of course with his experience in the
+ways of women, he fell a ready dupe to the fascinating wiles of Miss
+Manners. She kept him in an agony of suspense for a week, during every
+evening of which she waltzed with a young lieutenant of dragoons, who
+was playing billiards and drinking champagne on a sick leave, until
+she could hear from a fabulous guardian at Philadelphia, and obtain
+his consent to a sacrifice of her brilliant prospects--nothing a year
+and a very suspicious account at a fashionable milliner's.
+
+Mr. Brandon went down to the city, purchased a snug house, furnished
+it modestly, gave a liberal order on his tailor, and one memorable
+morning, might have been seen looking very uncomfortable, in a white
+satin stock and kids, beside a lady elegantly dressed in satin and
+blonde lace, while a portly clergyman pronounced his sentence in the
+shape of a marriage benediction.
+
+There was a snug wedding breakfast in the new house, at which were
+present several eminent apple speculators from Fulton market, two or
+three bank clerks, and a reporter for a weekly newspaper, who consumed
+a ruinous amount of sandwiches and bottled ale.
+
+Before the honeymoon was over, the bride began to display some of the
+less amiable features of her character. She sneered at the situation
+and simplicity of the establishment, and protested she was
+unaccustomed to that sort of style. She was perfectly sincere in this,
+for the defunct ship chandler had lived in a basement and two attic
+chambers.
+
+By dint of repeated persecutions, she induced her husband to move into
+a larger house; and finally, after the expiration of many years, we
+find them established in the upper part of the city, in a splendid
+mansion, looking out upon a fashionable square, with a little marble
+boy in front sitting on a brick, and spouting a stream of Croton
+through a clam shell.
+
+One morning, Mr. Brandon came home about eleven o'clock. On entering
+his front door, he beheld, lounging on a sofa, with the _Courrier des
+Etats Unis_ in his hand, Claude, the handsome French page of Mrs. B.
+
+"Where is Mrs. B.?" asked the elderly broker.
+
+"Madame is in her boudoir," replied the page; "but," he added, seeing
+his master move in that direction, "I do not know whether she is
+visible."
+
+"That I will ascertain myself, young gentleman," replied the broker,
+with a slight shade of irony in his tone. "But tell me, is there any
+one with her?"
+
+"Only M. Auguste Charmant," said the page.
+
+"That confounded Frenchman!" muttered the plebeian broker. "My Yankee
+house is turned topsyturvy by these foreigners. There's a French cook,
+and a French chambermaid, and the friend of the family is a Frenchman.
+I don't know what I'm eating, and I hardly understand a word that's
+said at my table. Sometimes, by way of change, they talk Italian
+instead of French. One might as well associate with a stack of
+monkeys. Out of the way, jackanapes."
+
+"Monsieur," said the page, with true Gallic dignity, "I was about to
+proceed to announce monsieur."
+
+"Monsieur can announce himself," replied Brandon, with the grin of a
+hyena; and proceeding up stairs, he entered the boudoir without
+knocking.
+
+Mrs. Brandon was lounging on a _fauteuil_, in an elegant morning
+toilet--literally plunged and embowered in costly Brussels lace. Her
+delicate, bejewelled fingers were playing with the petals of an
+exquisite bouquet. Thanks to a good constitution, a life of ease, an
+accomplished milliner and an incomparable dentist, the fair Maria,
+though the mother of a marriageable girl, was still a lovely and
+fascinating woman, and Brandon, as he gazed on her superb figure,
+almost forgave her absurd ambition and her ruinous extravagance.
+Still, when he glanced at his own anxious, emaciated, and careworn
+features, in the splendid Versailles mirror that hung opposite, his
+transitory pleasure gave way to stern and bitter feelings. He merely
+nodded to his wife, and bowed coldly to her companion, a young man
+attired in the height of fashion, with dark eyes and hair, and the
+most superb mustache imaginable.
+
+"Ah! my dear Meestare Brandon," said the dandy, "give me your hand. I
+congratulate you on such a _bonne fortune_--such good luck as has
+befallen you."
+
+"Explain yourself, sir," said the broker.
+
+"_Avec plaisir._ I have secured for you a box at the opera for the
+whole season--and for only five hundred dollars."
+
+The broker whistled.
+
+"Really nothing," said Mrs. Brandon; "only think--the best troupe we
+have yet had--a new _prima donna_ and a new _basso_."
+
+"Fiddlestick!" said the matter-of-fact husband. "What does it amount
+to?"
+
+"Brandon," said the lady with a true maternal dignity, "reflect upon
+the importance of the opera to the education of your daughter."
+
+"Nonsense!" said the broker, angrily. "My daughter Julia would please
+me much better if she cultivated a little common sense, and adopted
+the plain, republican manners fitted to the eventualities of her
+future life, instead of aping foreign fashions, and doing her best to
+denationalize her character."
+
+Monsieur Auguste Charmant shrugged his shoulders, Mrs. Brandon clasped
+her hands, and the former, rising said,--
+
+"_Au revoir_, madame, _au plaisir_, Monsieur Brandon. I will bid you
+good morning, and leave you to the pleasures of a conjugal
+_tźte-a-tźte_."
+
+Mr. Brandon rose and paced the room to and fro for several minutes
+after the departure of the Frenchman, narrowly eyed by Mrs. Brandon,
+who was anticipating a "scene," and preparing to meet it. In these
+contests the victory generally rested with the lady. The broker
+finally opened the door, and finding the page with ear glued against
+the keyhole, quietly took that young gentleman by the lobe of his left
+ear, and leading him to the head of the staircase, advised him, as a
+friend, to descend it as speedily as possible, before his gravitation
+was assisted by the application of an extraneous power. This
+accomplished, he returned to the boudoir, and locking the door, sat
+down beside his wife. The latter playfully tapped his cheek with her
+bouquet, but the broker took no notice of the coquettish action, and
+gloomily contemplating his gaiters, as if afraid to trust his eyes
+with the siren glances of his partner, commenced:--
+
+"Mrs. B., I want to have some serious talk with you."
+
+"You never have any other kind of small talk," retorted the lady. "You
+have a rare gift at sermonizing."
+
+Mr. Brandon passed over the sneer, and continued:--
+
+"You alluded just now to Julia; it is of her I wish to speak. Let me
+remind you of her future prospects, and ask you whether it be not time
+to change your system of educating her, and prepare her for a change
+of life. You will remember then, that, two years ago, with the
+consent of all parties, she was engaged to Arthur Merton, a very
+promising young dry goods merchant of Boston."
+
+"Only a retail merchant," said Mrs. Brandon.
+
+"A promising young merchant, the son of my old friend Jasper Merton.
+It was agreed between us that I should bestow ten thousand dollars on
+my daughter, and Merton an equal sum upon his son. In case of the
+failure of either party to fulfil the engagement, the father of the
+party was to forfeit to the aggrieved person the sum of ten thousand
+dollars. This very week, I expect my old friend and his son to ratify
+the contract. You know with what difficulty, owing to the enormous
+expenses of our mode of life, I have laid aside the stipulated sum;
+for in your hands, the hands of the mother of my child, I have lodged
+this sacred deposit."
+
+"Very true," said the lady, "and it is now in my secretary, under lock
+and key. But what an odious arrangement! How the contract and the
+forfeit smell of the shop!"
+
+"Don't despise the smell of the shop, Maria," said the broker, smiling
+gravely, "it is the smell of the shop that perfumes the boudoir."
+
+"And then Arthur Merton is such a shocking person," continued the
+lady; "really, no manners."
+
+"To my mind, Maria," said the broker, "his manners, plain, open, and
+frank, are infinitely superior to those of the French butterfly who is
+always fluttering at your elbow."
+
+"And if he is always fluttering at my elbow," retorted the lady, "it
+is because you are always away."
+
+"That is because I always have business," said the broker. "If we
+lived in less style, I should have more leisure. Ah! Maria! Maria! I
+fear that we are driving on too recklessly; the day of reckoning will
+come--we seem to be sailing prosperously now, but a shipwreck may
+terminate the voyage."
+
+"Not while I have the helm," said the lady. "Listen to me, Brandon.
+You know little of the philosophy of life. To command success, we must
+seem to have obtained it. To be rich, we must seem so. You have done
+well to follow my advice in one particular. You have taken a very
+prominent part in the present presidential canvass. There cannot fail
+to be a change of administration, and while you have been making
+yourself conspicuous in public, I have been electioneering for you in
+private. I have been feasting and petting the men who hold the winning
+cards in their hands. It is not for mere ostentation that I have
+invited to my _soirées_, the Hon. Mr. A., and Judge B., and Counsellor
+C."
+
+"I don't see what you're driving at," said the broker.
+
+"O, of course not. But when you find yourself a _millionnaire_, and
+all by the scheming of your wife, perhaps, B., you'd think there was
+some wisdom in what you are pleased to call my fashionable follies.
+But to make the matter plain--a change of administration occurs--you
+are the confidential friend of the secretary of the treasury--your
+talents as a financier are duly recognized--you have the management of
+the most important loans and contracts--you have four years, perhaps
+eight, to flourish in, and your fortune is made."
+
+"Ah!" said the broker, doubtfully.
+
+"If such success attends you, and there can be no doubt of it, how
+painful would be your reflections, if you thought that you had
+sacrificed your daughter's future in an alliance with a petty trader.
+I have arranged a brighter destiny for her--a marriage with a foreign
+nobleman."
+
+"I'd rather see her the wife of a Yankee peddler."
+
+"Out upon you!" cried the lady. "I tell you, your opposition will have
+little weight, Mr. B. Come to my _soirée_ this evening, and I will
+present you to Count Alfred de Roseville, an exile from France for
+political offences--only think, B., he was the intimate friend of
+Henry V."
+
+"And who vouches for this paragon?"
+
+"Our friend, Auguste."
+
+"_Your_ friend, Auguste, you mean."
+
+"I mean M. Charmant, the friend of the family."
+
+"And what does Julia think of this Phoenix?"
+
+"She adores him."
+
+"Alas! how her gentleness of nature must have been perverted! Well,
+well, Maria, in spite of myself, I cannot resolve to humble your
+pride, or thwart your schemes. I believe you love me and your
+daughter. Yet you are playing a desperate game--remember, our all is
+staked upon the issue."
+
+"And I'll await the hazard of the die," replied Mrs. B., as she kissed
+her husband fondly, and dismissed him with a wave of the hand.
+
+When Brandon came down into the hall, he was thunder-struck at meeting
+there three persons, whose appearance, after what had just passed up
+stairs in the boudoir, might well be considered inopportune. The first
+was uncle Richard Watkins, a relative of Mr. Brandon's, who resided in
+the country, and had become immensely rich by land speculations, and
+the others were Mr. Merton and his son. A pile of baggage announced
+that they were not mere callers.
+
+"Give us your hand, Luke," said uncle Richard, extending his enormous
+brown palm, "you ain't glad to see me, nor nothin', be you? Brought my
+trunk, valise, carpet bag, and hatbox, and cal'late to spend six
+weeks here. How's the old woman and the gal--pretty smart? Well,
+that's hearty."
+
+The broker shook the old man by the hand, and then turned to welcome
+with the best grace he could his friend Merton, and his proposed
+son-in-law.
+
+"You know what _we've_ come for," said the elder Merton, with a sly
+wink.
+
+"Pray walk into the drawing room," said the broker, and 'on hospitable
+thoughts intent,' he threw wide the door, and the party entered.
+
+Ah! unlucky Brandon! why didst thou not summon the French page to
+announce thy guests? Thou hadst then been spared a scene that might
+have figured in a comedy, and came near furnishing material for a
+tragedy.
+
+An elegant young man was kneeling at the feet of an elegant young
+lady. The former was Count Alfred de Roseville, the latter Miss Julia
+Brandon. The count started to his feet, the young lady blushed and
+shrieked. The count was the first to recover his voice and
+self-possession. Rushing to the broker, he exclaimed in broken
+English,--
+
+"O, my dear monsieur, how I moost glad to see you--your daughter--Mees
+Julie--she 'ave say--yais--yais--yais--to my ardent love suit--and now
+I have the honneur to salute her respectable papa."
+
+"O, father," said the terrified girl, "it was with mother's knowledge
+and consent."
+
+Brandon could not speak a word.
+
+"This lady, sir," said Merton, fiercely, advancing to the count, "is
+my affianced bride."
+
+"Your bride--eh?" cried the count, "when she has just come to
+say--yais--to my ardent love suit!"
+
+"What does the gal say? what does the gal say?" asked uncle Richard,
+interposing.
+
+"Speak, Julia," said her father, sternly, "and weigh well your words.
+I will not force you to fulfil a contract against your will--the
+penalty and contingency of such a refusal have been provided for--but
+pause before you reject the son of my old friend for a foreigner--a
+man with whom you can have had but a few days' acquaintance."
+
+Julia averted her eyes, and blushed scarlet, but placed her hand in
+that of the count just as her mother entered the apartment.
+
+"Enough," said young Merton, "I am satisfied. Come, father, let us
+retire--our presence here is only a burden. O, Julia!" he added, in a
+tone of deep feeling, "little did I expect this at your hands. I have
+looked forward to this meeting with the fondest hope. It is
+past--farewell--may you be happy."
+
+"I shall be very happy to see you again--nevair!" said the count.
+
+"O, as to that," said young Merton, approaching him, and addressing
+him in a low tone, "I think _you_, at least, have not seen the last of
+me, monsieur. At any rate, you shall hear from me soon."
+
+"I 'ave not nozzin to do nor not to say viz _canaille_," said the
+count.
+
+"Then, perhaps, it will be more agreeable to you, sir, to be
+horsewhipped in Broadway," said Merton.
+
+"Me! horsevhip! me! the friend of Henri V.! horreur!" cried the count.
+
+"Very good, monsieur, I have presented the alternative. Where may you
+be found?"
+
+"_Hōtel de Ville_--City Hotel."
+
+"_Au plaisir_, then _Count_ Alfred de Roseville," said Merton,
+glancing at the card the Frenchman handed him. "Come, father."
+
+"Mr. Brandon, I shall wait on you at your counting room in the course
+of the forenoon," said Mr. Merton, senior; "we have an account to
+settle together."
+
+And the father and son bowed themselves out of the room. Julia was so
+much agitated at the events which had just transpired, that she was
+compelled to retire to her room. Uncle Richard and Mr. and Mrs.
+Brandon remained upon the field of battle.
+
+"Well, Maria," said the broker, "the first act of the comedy has been
+played, in which you have assigned me a very insignificant and
+low-comedy part, but I don't think either of us has made a very
+distinguished figure in it. I hope the last act will redeem the
+first."
+
+The lady reddened, but made no reply.
+
+"Let us foot up the column to see what amount is to be carried
+forward," continued the broker. "Here's an old friendship dissolved--a
+worthy young man broken hearted--a suspicious suitor introduced into
+my family, and ten thousand dollars to be paid on demand. A very
+pretty morning's work."
+
+"It will come out right," said Mrs. Brandon.
+
+"As the boy remarked when he was gored by the cow's horn," observed
+uncle Richard, philosophically, as he extended his length upon an
+ottoman, including his boots in the enjoyment of the comfort of cut
+velvet.
+
+"I leave uncle Richard to your care, madam," said the broker, "while I
+go down in town to ascertain the value of my new son-in-law's paper
+upon 'change."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On an evening not long after the above scenes, the broker's house was
+brilliantly lighted up from basement to attic. Through the open hall
+door, at the head of the flight of marble steps, servants in livery
+were seen receiving the shawls and hats of the guests, as carriage
+after carriage deposited its brilliant contents at the house of the
+financier. Mingled with the black coats of the gentlemen, and the
+gossamer attire of the ladies, were seen the brilliant uniforms of
+officers of the army and navy. The crowd poured into the magnificent
+ball room, where, flanked by her husband, and by the indefatigable
+Monsieur Charmant, the lovely hostess received her guests with an
+elegance of manner truly aristocratic. The delicious waltzes of
+Strauss, performed by a German band, floated through the magnificent
+rooms. Glistening chandeliers poured down a flood of soft light on the
+fair faces and the polished ivory shoulders of the ladies. It was a
+scene of enchantment, and Mrs. Brandon revelled in the splendor that
+surrounded her and the incense that was offered. She was pleased at
+the distinguished appearance of her husband, pleased to see her
+daughter hanging on the arm of the French count, pleased at every
+thing but one. One object alone, like the black mask at the bridal of
+Hernani, marred the festivity, and created a discord in the midst of
+the harmony--that was uncle Richard, walking up and down the ball room
+in a meal-colored coat and cowhide boots.
+
+Various efforts were made to get possession of uncle Richard and lead
+him away into captivity. A whist table was suggested in an anteroom,
+an Havana was proposed in the library, but he "didn't want to play
+cards, and had just quit smoking," and so he paraded his coat and
+boots before the company, the "observed of all observers."
+
+Mrs. B. made the best of it, whispering confidentially that he was a
+distant connection, immensely rich, partially insane, but perfectly
+harmless. O, how dazzling was Mrs. Brandon that evening, in the
+beauty of her person and of her attire! She wore diamonds that were
+valued at ten thousand dollars.
+
+In the midst of the brilliant festivities, Mr. Brandon was suddenly
+summoned from the ball room. He presently returned, looking very pale,
+and beckoned his wife, who followed him into the library. Mr. Merton,
+senior, was there, with a very stern expression on his countenance.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Brandon.
+
+"The matter," said her husband, "is simply this--Mr. Merton leaves
+town to-night for Philadelphia, on special business, and having
+occasion for a large sum of money, requires the immediate payment of
+the ten thousand dollars which are due him for our violation of the
+marriage contract."
+
+"Yes, madam," said Mr. Merton, "and I called on your husband for it,
+and he referred me to you as having the deposit in your possession."
+
+"Wouldn't to-morrow do as well?" asked the lady anxiously.
+
+"No, madam, my necessity is urgent."
+
+"Go, Maria," said the broker, "and bring the money instantly. A debt
+like this admits of no postponement."
+
+"Alas! alas!" stammered the poor woman, "I have not this money by me.
+Surely, Mr. Brandon, you must be able to command it."
+
+"Not one dollar, madam," said the broker. "I would have spared you
+this explanation to-night, but you have brought it on yourself. This
+is our last night of factitious splendor--my affairs are in
+inextricable confusion--losses have this day come to light which
+complete my ruin--and to-morrow the world will know me as a bankrupt."
+
+Mrs. Brandon wrung her hands and sobbed bitterly.
+
+"But that is a grief for to-morrow," said the broker, sternly. "There
+is music and dancing, champagne and flowers, in the next room--enough
+glory for to-night. But this business of Mr. Merton's requires instant
+attention. What have you done with the ten thousand dollars? Have you
+dared to squander it?"
+
+"No, no," said Mrs. Brandon earnestly. "I am not so bad as that. I
+deposited it with Sandford, the jeweller, of whom I hired the casket
+of jewels to deck myself to-night."
+
+"Mr. Merton," said the broker, calmly, "I shall have to trouble your
+patience a little while longer. I will write instantly to Mr.
+Sandford, late as it is, and bid him bring the money here at once."
+
+After despatching the note, Brandon and his wife returned to the ball
+room. O, how insipid to the lady's ear seemed now the babble of her
+guests! The flowers had lost their perfume--the music its divine
+influence. Yet, with the serpent of remorse and anguish gnawing at her
+heart, she was forced to smile and seem happy and at ease. A half hour
+passed in this way seemed an age of torture; and when the messenger
+despatched by her husband had returned and summoned them again to the
+library, it gave her inexpressible relief.
+
+"O, Mr. Sandford!" she exclaimed to the jeweller, who was now added to
+the party, "how happy I am to see you! There is your casket--and here
+are your diamonds!" and she tore the jewels from her neck, ears, and
+wrists, and offered them to the jeweller.
+
+"Madam," said the jeweller, gravely, after having examined the gems,
+"these are not the articles I furnished you. I lent you a set of
+diamonds--these are paste!"
+
+"What is the meaning of this?" asked the broker sternly.
+
+"I know not. I cannot explain. O, Luke! Luke! I am innocent!" and Mrs.
+Brandon sunk fainting into a chair.
+
+When she had recovered her senses, Mr. Brandon asked,--
+
+"Did you make this arrangement in person?"
+
+"No," she replied; "it was through the mediation of Mr. Charmant."
+
+"Let's send for him," said Merton.
+
+"Stay," said the broker; "an idea has occurred to me. I have observed
+at times that this Monsieur Charmant had a good deal to say to your
+French page, my good lady."
+
+"It was he that recommended Claude," said Mrs. Brandon.
+
+"Then we will have Claude before us," said the broker.
+
+Claude soon made his appearance.
+
+"Claude," said Mrs. Brandon, "do you know any thing about this casket
+of jewels?"
+
+The boy changed color, but shook his head.
+
+"Now, my Christian friend," said the broker, "you need not tell us
+what you know about the jewels, if you are unwilling; but in case of
+your refusal, I shall send for a police officer, who will,
+undoubtedly, drum the whole affair out of you."
+
+The threat had the desired effect. The boy confessed that Charmant and
+De Roseville were impostors--that they were not even Frenchmen, but a
+brace of London thieves, who had picked up a knowledge of French
+during a professional tour on the continent, and who had emigrated to
+America for the purpose of introducing their art among our
+unsophisticated countrymen. Charmant had been a jeweller, and this
+enabled him to counterfeit the gems obtained of Mr. Sandford, which he
+purposed disposing of at the first favorable opportunity. The boy
+believed that Charmant had them about him at that moment. In England,
+Charmant was known as French Jack, and Roseville as Rusty Joe.
+
+"Go back to the ball room," said Mr. Merton to Brandon, "and take your
+wife with you. Mr. Sandford, you stay by the boy. I'll go for an
+officer."
+
+Brandon and his lady returned to the ball room, the latter somewhat
+relieved, but mortified at the deceptions which had been practised on
+her.
+
+In a few minutes a burly member of the police, with a very thick
+stick, and a very red handkerchief knotted round his neck, made his
+appearance, to the astonishment and consternation of the guests, amid
+whom the host and hostess alone testified no excitement or alarm.
+
+"Sarvant, ladies and gentlemen, sarvant," said the legal functionary,
+scraping his right boot, and plucking desperately at the brim of his
+hat. "Don't let me interrupt yer innercent amusement--sorry to
+intrude, as the bull said when he rushed into the china shop--but
+business before pleasure--now then, my hearty! how are you?"
+
+The last words were accompanied by a vigorous blow on the shoulder of
+M. Auguste Charmant, who was at that moment paying his attentions to a
+belle from Union Square.
+
+"_Monsieur me parle-t-il_?" exclaimed the dandy, with well-feigned
+astonishment.
+
+"O, nix the lingo, French Jack," said the officer, "or leastways
+patter Romany so's a cove can understand you. Fork over them are
+dimonds--or else it will go harder with you. The boy's peached, and
+the game's up--you were spotted long ago."
+
+With a smothered curse, French Jack dived his hand into his vest
+pocket and produced the stolen jewels. While this was enacting, the
+count had been quietly stealing to the door, but the vigilant officer
+had an eye upon his movements, and a hand upon his shoulder before he
+could escape.
+
+"Now I've got the pair of you," said the worthy man, chuckling
+apoplectically in the folds of his red handkerchief. "Now, don't ride
+rusty, Joe--for there's a small few of us outside with amazin' thick
+sticks, that might fall on your head and hurt you, if so be you
+happened to be rambustical."
+
+"Curse the luck!" muttered the thief, as with his companion he marched
+off.
+
+It may well be imagined that the scene dispersed the party in a hurry.
+They took French leave, like birds scattered by a sudden storm. Julia
+was carried to bed in hysterics, accompanied by her mother. Merton and
+the jeweller had disappeared, the three rogues had been taken into
+custody, and only Brandon and uncle Richard
+
+                   ----"trod alone
+    The banquet hall deserted."
+
+"Well, uncle," said the broker, bitterly, "the game's up. I have been
+ruined, stock and fluke, by letting my wife have her own way, and
+to-morrow I shall be a bankrupt."
+
+"No you won't," said uncle Richard.
+
+"Yes I shall," said the broker, angrily. "And Julia, abandoned by her
+lover, will be broken hearted."
+
+"No she won't," said uncle Richard.
+
+"Who's to prevent it?" asked the broker.
+
+"Uncle Richard," replied that personage. "What's the use of a friend,
+unless he's a friend in need. I've got plenty of money, and neither
+chick nor child in the world. I'll meet your liabilities with cash.
+Young Merton loves Julia in spite of her temporary alienation--he will
+gladly take her back. The rogues will get their deserts. Your wife,
+sick and ashamed of her fashionable follies, will gladly gin' up this
+house and the servants. You'll buy a little country seat on the
+Hudson, and I'll come and live with you."
+
+As every thing turned out exactly as uncle Richard promised and
+predicted, we have no occasion to enlarge on the fortunate subsiding
+of this "sea of troubles."
+
+
+
+
+ACTING CHARADES.
+
+     But, masters, remember that I am an ass; though it be not
+     written down, yet forget not that I am an
+     ass.--SHAKSPEARE, _Much Ado about Nothing._
+
+
+Many of our readers have doubtless witnessed, or perchance
+participated in, the amusement of acting charades--a divertisement
+much in vogue in social circles, and if cleverly done, productive of
+much mirth. To the uninitiated, a brief description of an acted
+charade may not be unacceptable. A word of two or more syllables is
+selected, each part of which must make sense by itself--as, for
+instance, the word inspector, which would be decomposed, thus; _inn
+spectre_. The company of performers would then extemporize a scene at
+a public house, leaving the spectators to guess at the first syllable,
+_inn_. The second scene would represent the terror occasioned by the
+apparition of a phantom, and give the second part of the word spectre.
+The third scene would represent the whole word, and would perhaps be a
+brigade inspector reviewing his troops, giving occasion for the humors
+of a Yankee militia training. Much ingenuity is required in the
+selection of a word, and in carrying out the representation, with
+appropriate dialogue, &c.
+
+Acting charades generally turns a house topsy turvy; wardrobes and
+garrets are ransacked for costumes and properties; hats, canes,
+umbrellas, and firearms are mustered, and old dresses that haven't
+seen the light for forty years are rummaged out as disguises for the
+actors in these extempore theatricals.
+
+In a certain circle in this city there was a knot of clever young
+people, of both sexes, strongly addicted to acting charades, and very
+happy in their execution. But they were unfortunately afflicted by an
+interloper,
+
+                  "Whose head
+    Was not of brains particularly full,"
+
+one of those geniuses who have a fatal facility for making blunders.
+Yet, with a pleasing unconsciousness of his deficiencies, he was
+always volunteering his services, and always expected, in this matter
+of acting charades, to be intrusted with the leading parts.
+
+One evening the usual coterie was assembled, charades were proposed,
+as usual, and the little knot of performers retired to the back
+drawing room, dropping the curtain behind them, and prepared for their
+performance, congratulating themselves that Mr. Blinks, the name of
+the marplot, was not on hand to spoil their sport. They selected the
+word _catastrophe_, and the curtain went up.
+
+A very pretty and lively young lady, who had been abroad, gave a very
+happy imitation of the almost inimitable Jenny Vertpré, in the French
+vaudeville of the "Cat metamorphosed to a Woman," in that scene where
+she betrays her original nature. She purred, she frolicked, she
+pounced on an imaginary mouse, caught it, tossed it up in the air, and
+went through all the manoeuvres of a veritable grimalkin. When the
+curtain fell, amidst roars of laughter and applause, the first
+syllable--cat--was whispered from mouth to mouth, among the audience.
+
+At this moment the hated Blinks arrived in the green-room.
+
+"What are you up to? Acting charades--eh? By Jove! I'm just in time.
+You must give me a part--can't get along without me. What's the word?"
+
+"No matter," said the young lady who had played the cat, with a wicked
+smile of intelligence. "Prompter, ring the curtain up. All you've got
+to do, Mr. Blinks, is to walk across the stage."
+
+"But where's my dress?"
+
+"What you have on. Appear in your own character."
+
+The curtain went up, and Blinks stalked across with his accustomed air
+of intolerable stupidity. Amidst smothered laughter, the audience
+guessed the second syllable of the charade--_ass_.
+
+The curtain went up for the third time. A group of Indian chiefs were
+located in a wigwam. A young brave entered, distinguished by the eagle
+plume and wampum belt, the bow and hatchet, and threw down at the feet
+of the eldest warrior a bundle of the scalps he had brought back from
+battle. A hum of approbation rose from the assembly. The curtain fell.
+The word _trophy_ had been thus indicated. The whole word was then
+represented by an appropriate scene from the close of a popular
+tragedy, and the spectators, cheering the performance, called out
+_catastrophe_ to the actors.
+
+"Well, they made out to guess it," said Blinks, when the curtain had
+fallen, for the last time. "But now it's all over, you made one
+confounded blunder."
+
+"What was that?" asked the wicked young lady.
+
+"You didn't act the second syllable."
+
+"No?"
+
+"No! indeed!" said Blinks, with a look of intense cunning. "You had
+_cat_ and _trophy_--but where was the _ass_?"
+
+"O, indeed!" said the young lady.
+
+"You see, ladies and gentleman," said Blinks, enjoying his triumph,
+"you can't get along without me. If I'd been here in the beginning,
+you'd have had the ass."
+
+"We certainly should," said the young lady, winking to her companions,
+who could hardly suppress their laughter.
+
+"And I move we repeat this charade to-morrow night," said Blinks--"and
+mind, I'm the ass."
+
+"Of course."
+
+"I'll get a costume and disguise myself."
+
+"Disguise yourself!" echoed his tormentor--"for Heaven's sake, don't
+do that--they'd never guess it."
+
+The next night the charade was ass-ass-in, and Blinks went on for the
+first two syllables. He was perfectly at home--"Richard himself
+again!" and the wicked young lady, in complimenting his performance,
+declared it was "_perfectly natural_."
+
+
+
+
+THE GREEN CHAMBER.
+
+
+In my younger days, "ghost stories" were the most popular narratives
+extant, and the lady or gentleman who could recite the most thrilling
+adventure, involving a genuine spiritual visitant, was sure to be the
+lion or lioness of the evening party he enlivened (?) with the dismal
+details. The elder auditors never seemed particularly horrified or
+terror-stricken, however much gratified they were, but the younger
+members would drink in every word, "supping full of horrors." After
+listening to one of these authentic narratives, we used to be very
+reluctant to retire to our dormitories, and never ventured to get into
+bed till we had examined suspicious-looking closets, old wardrobes,
+and, indeed, every nook and corner that might be supposed to harbor a
+ghost or a ghoul.
+
+Fortunately for the rising generation, these tales have gone out of
+fashion, and though some attempts to revive the taste have been
+made--as in the "Night Side of Nature"--such efforts have proved
+deplorable failures. The young people of to-day make light of ghosts.
+The spectres in the incantation scene of "Der Freyschutz" are received
+with roars of laughter, and even the statue in Don Giovanni seems
+"jolly," notwithstanding the illusive music of Mozart. We were about
+to remark that the age had outgrown superstition, but we remembered
+the Rochester knockings, and concluded to be modestly silent.
+
+One evening, many years since--it was a blustering December
+evening--the wind howling as it dashed the old buttonwood limbs in its
+fury against the parlor windows of the country house where a few of us
+were assembled to pass the winter holidays, we gathered before a
+roaring fire of walnut and oak, which made every thing within doors as
+cheery and comfortable as all without was desolate and dreary. The
+window shutters were left unfastened, that the bright lamplight and
+ruddy firelight might stream afar upon the wintry waste, and perhaps
+guide some benighted wayfarer to a hospitable shelter.
+
+We shall not attempt to describe the group, as any such portrait
+painting would not be germane to the matter more immediately in hand.
+Suffice it to say, that one of the youngsters begged aunt Deborah, the
+matron of the mansion, to tell us a ghost story,--"a real ghost story,
+aunt Deborah,"--for in those days we were terribly afraid of
+counterfeits, and hated to hear a narrative where the ghost turned out
+in the end to be no ghost after all, but a mere compound of flesh and
+blood like ourselves.
+
+Aunt Deborah smiled at our earnestness, and tantalized our impatience
+by some of those little arts with which the practised story-teller
+enhances the value and interest of her narrative. She tapped her
+silver snuffbox, opened it deliberately, took a very delicate pinch of
+the Lundy Foot, shut the box, replaced it in her pocket, folded her
+hands before her, looked round a minute on the expectant group, and
+then began.
+
+I shall despair of imparting to this cold pen-and-ink record of her
+story the inimitable conversational grace with which she embellished
+it. It made an indelible impression on my memory, and if I have never
+before repeated it, it was from a lurking fear that--though the old
+lady assured us it was "not to be found in any book or newspaper"--it
+might have found its way into print. However, as twenty years have
+elapsed, and I have never yet met with it in type, I will venture to
+give the outlines of the narrative.
+
+Major Rupert Stanley, a "bold dragoon" in the service of his majesty
+George III., found himself, one dark and blustering night in autumn,
+riding towards London on the old York road. He had supped with a
+friend who lived at a village some distance off the road, and he was
+unfamiliar with the country. Though not raining, the air was damp, and
+the heavy, surcharged clouds threatened every moment to pour down
+their contents. But the major, though a young man, was an old
+campaigner; and with a warm cloak wrapped about him, and a good horse
+under him, would have cared very little for storm and darkness, had he
+felt sure of a good bed for himself, and comfortable quarters for his
+horse, when he had ridden far enough for the strength of his faithful
+animal. A good horseman cares as much for the comfort of his steed as
+for his own ease. To add to the discomfort of the evening, there was
+some chance of meeting highwaymen; but Major Stanley felt no
+uneasiness on that score, as, just before leaving his friend's house,
+he had examined his holster pistols, and freshly primed them. A brush
+with a highwayman would enhance the romance of a night journey.
+
+So he jogged along; but mile after mile was passed, and no twinkling
+light in the distance gave notice of the appearance of the wished-for
+inn. The major's horse began to give unmistakable evidence of
+distress--stumbling once or twice, and recovering himself with
+difficulty. At last, a dim light suddenly appeared at a turn of the
+road. The horse pricked up his ears, and trotted forward with spirit,
+soon halting beside a one-story cottage. The major was disappointed,
+but he rode up to the door and rapped loudly with the but of his
+riding whip. The summons brought a sleepy cotter to the door.
+
+"My good friend," said the major, "can you tell me how far it is to
+the next inn?"
+
+"Eh! it be about zeven mile, zur," was the answer, in the broad
+Yorkshire dialect of the district.
+
+"Seven miles!" exclaimed the major, in a tone of deep disappointment,
+"and my horse is already blown! My good fellow, can't you put my horse
+somewhere, and give me a bed? I will pay you liberally for your
+trouble."
+
+"Eh! goodness zakes!" said the rustic. "I be nought but a ditcher!
+There be noa plaze to put the nag in, and there be only one room and
+one bed in the cot."
+
+"What _shall_ I do?" cried the major, at his wits' end.
+
+"I'll tell 'ee, zur," said the rustic, scratching his head violently,
+as if to extract his ideas by the roots. "There be a voine large house
+on the road, about a moile vurther on. It's noa an inn, but the
+colonel zees company vor the vun o' the thing--'cause he loikes to zee
+company about 'un. You must 'a heard ov him--Colonel Rogers--a' used
+to be a soger once."
+
+"Say no more," cried the major. "I _have_ heard of this hospitable
+gentleman; and his having been in the army gives me a sure claim to
+his attention. Here's a crown for your information, my good friend.
+Come, Marlborough!"
+
+Touching his steed with the spur, the major rode off, feeling an
+exhilaration of spirits which soon communicated itself to the horse. A
+sharp trot of a few minutes brought him to a large mansion, which
+stood unfenced, like a huge caravansery, by the roadside. He made for
+the front door and, without dismounting, plied the large brass knocker
+till a servant in livery made his appearance.
+
+"Is your master up?" asked the major.
+
+"I am the occupant of this house," said a venerable gentleman, making
+his appearance at the hall door.
+
+"I am a benighted traveller, sir," said the major, touching his hat,
+"and come to claim your well-known hospitality. Can you give me a bed
+for the night? I am afraid my four-footed companion is hardly able to
+carry me to the next inn."
+
+"I cannot promise you a bed, sir," said the host, "for I have but one
+spare bed in the house."
+
+"And that----" said the major.
+
+"Happens to be in a room that does not enjoy a very pleasing
+reputation. In short, sir, one room of my house is haunted; and that
+is the only one, unfortunately, that I can place at your disposal
+to-night."
+
+"My dear sir," said the major, springing from his horse, and tossing
+the bridle to the servant, "you enchant me beyond expression! A
+haunted chamber! The very thing--and I, who have never seen a ghost!
+What luck!"
+
+The host shook his head gravely.
+
+"I never knew a man," he said, "to pass a night in that chamber
+without regretting it."
+
+Major Stanley laughed as he took his pistols from the holster pipes.
+"With these friends of mine," he said, "I fear neither ghost nor
+demon."
+
+Colonel Rogers showed his guest into a comfortable parlor, where a
+seacoal fire was burning cheerfully in a grate, and refreshments most
+welcome to a weary traveller stood upon a table.
+
+"Mine host" was an old campaigner, and had seen much service during
+the war of the American revolution, and he was full of interesting
+anecdotes and descriptions of adventures. But while Major Stanley was
+apparently listening attentively to the narrative of his hospitable
+entertainer, throwing in the appropriate ejaculations of surprise and
+pleasure at the proper intervals, his whole attention was in reality
+absorbed by a charming girl of twenty, the daughter of the colonel,
+who graced the table with her presence. Never, he thought, had he seen
+so beautiful, so modest, and so ladylike a creature; and she, in turn,
+seemed very favorably impressed with the manly beauty and frank
+manners of their military guest.
+
+At length she retired. The colonel, who was a three-bottle man, and
+had found a listener to his heart, was somewhat inclined to prolong
+the session into the small hours of the morning, but finding that his
+guest was much fatigued, and even beginning to nod in the midst of his
+choicest story, he felt compelled to ask him if he would not like to
+retire. Major Stanley replied promptly in the affirmative, and the old
+gentleman, taking up a silver candlestick, ceremoniously marshalled
+his guest to a large, old-fashioned room, the walls of which being
+papered with green, gave it its appellation of the "Green Chamber." A
+comfortable bed invited to repose; a cheerful fire was blazing on the
+hearth, and every thing was cosy and quiet. The major looked round him
+with a smile of satisfaction.
+
+"I am deeply indebted to you, colonel," said he, "for affording me
+such comfortable quarters. I shall sleep like a top."
+
+"I am afraid not," answered the colonel, shaking his head gravely. "I
+never knew a guest of mine to pass a quiet night in the Green
+Chamber."
+
+"I shall prove an exception," said the major, smiling. "But I must
+make one remark," he added, seriously. "It is ill sporting with the
+feelings of a soldier; and should any of your servants attempt to play
+tricks upon me, they will have occasion to repent it." And he laid
+his heavy pistol on the lightstand by his bedside.
+
+"My servants, Major Stanley," said the old gentleman, with an air of
+offended dignity, "are too well drilled to dare attempt any tricks
+upon my guests. Good night, major."
+
+"Good night, colonel."
+
+The door closed. Major Stanley locked it. Having done so, he took a
+survey of the apartment. Besides the door opening into the entry,
+there was another leading to some other room. There was no lock upon
+this second door, but a heavy table, placed across, completely
+barricaded it.
+
+"I am safe," thought the major, "unless there is a storming party of
+ghosts to attack me in my fastness. I think I shall sleep well."
+
+He threw himself into an arm chair before the fire, and watching the
+glowing embers, amused himself with building castles in the air, and
+musing on the attractions of the fair Julia, his host's daughter. He
+was far enough from thinking of spectral visitants, when a very slight
+noise struck on his ear. Glancing in the direction of the inner door,
+he thought he saw the heavy table glide backwards from its place.
+Quick as thought, he caught up a pistol, and challenged the intruder.
+There was no reply--but the door continued to open, and the table to
+slide back. At last there glided into the room a tall, graceful
+figure, robed in white. At the first glance, the blood curdled in the
+major's veins; at the second, he recognized the daughter of his host.
+Her eyes were wide open, and she advanced with an assured step, but it
+was very evident she was asleep. Here was the mystery of the Green
+Chamber solved at once. The young girl walked to the fireplace and
+seated herself in the arm chair from which the soldier had just
+risen. His first impulse was to vacate the room, and go directly and
+alarm the colonel. But, in the first place, he knew not what apartment
+his host occupied, and in the second, curiosity prompted him to watch
+the _dénouement_ of this singular scene. Julia raised her left hand,
+and gazing on a beautiful ring that adorned one of her white and taper
+fingers, pressed it repeatedly to her lips. She then sank into an
+attitude of repose, her arms drooping listlessly by her sides.
+
+The major approached her, and stole the ring from her finger. His
+action disturbed, but did not awaken her. She seemed to miss the ring,
+however, and, after groping hopelessly for it, rose and glided through
+the doorway as silently as she had entered. She had no sooner retired
+than the major replaced the table, and drawing a heavy clothes press
+against it, effectually guarded himself against a second intrusion.
+
+This done, he threw himself upon the bed, and slept soundly till a
+late hour of the morning. When he awoke, he sprang out of bed, and ran
+to the window. Every trace of the storm had passed away, and an
+unclouded sun was shining on the radiant landscape. After performing
+the duties of his toilet, he was summoned to breakfast, where he met
+the colonel and his daughter.
+
+"Well, major, and how did you pass the night?" asked the colonel,
+anxiously.
+
+"Famously," replied Stanley. "I slept like a top, as I told you I
+should."
+
+"Then, thank Heaven, the spell is broken at last," said the colonel,
+"and the White Phantom has ceased to haunt the Green Chamber."
+
+"By no means," said the major, smiling; "the White Phantom paid me a
+visit last night, and left me a token of the honor."
+
+"A token!" exclaimed the father and daughter in a breath.
+
+"Yes, my friends, and here it is." And the major handed the ring to
+the old gentleman.
+
+"What's the meaning of this, Julia?" exclaimed the colonel. "This ring
+I gave you last week!"
+
+Julia uttered a faint cry, and turned deadly pale.
+
+"The mystery is easily explained," said the major. "The young lady is
+a sleep-walker. She came into my room before I had retired, utterly
+unconscious of her actions. I took the ring from her hand, that I
+might be able to convince you and her of the reality of what I had
+witnessed."
+
+The major's business was not pressing, and he readily yielded to the
+colonel's urgent request to pass a few days with him. Their mutual
+liking increased upon better acquaintance, and in a few weeks the
+White Phantom's ring, inscribed with the names of Rupert Stanley and
+Julia Rogers, served as the sacred symbol of their union for life.
+
+
+
+
+HE WASN'T A HORSE JOCKEY.
+
+
+It was at the close of a fine, autumnal afternoon, that a
+simple-looking traveller, attired in a homespun suit of gray, and
+wearing a broad-brimmed, Quaker-looking hat, drove up to the door of
+the Spread Eagle Tavern, in the town of B----, State of Maine, kept by
+Major E. Spike, and ordered refreshments for himself and horse. There
+was nothing particular about the traveller, except his air of
+simplicity; but his horse was a character. The animal was at least
+thirty years of age, and was as gaunt as Rosinante, and would have
+been a dear bargain at fifteen dollars. The traveller acknowledged
+that he had been taken in somewhat when he bought the animal, for he
+"wasn't a horse jockey," and "did'nt know much about critters!"
+However, he added, "that if he had good luck in his trip down east,
+[he was agent for a Hartford Life Assurance Company,] he meant to pick
+up something handsome in the way of horse flesh to take home with
+him." After communicating his name and business, and sundry other
+particulars, with a frankness which, while it satisfied the curiosity,
+excited the contempt of Major Spike, the stranger, whom we shall call
+Zebulon Smith, departed.
+
+He had a business call to make on the widow Stebbins, who lived about
+three miles off, in a very old, unfinished, shingled house, of immense
+extent, in the centre of an unfenced lot, the chief products of which
+were rocks, brambles, and barberry bushes.
+
+"Keep much stock, Miss Stebbins?" said he, as, having transacted his
+business, he prepared to resume his journey.
+
+"Why, no," said she; "I'm a lone woman, and hain't got no help; so I
+keep only a cow and that 'ere colt. I wish I could sell him, for I
+ain't got nobody to break him in properly."
+
+Zebulon looked at the colt. He was a limpsey, long-legged, shaggy
+animal, with a ewe-neck, drooping head, and little, undecided tail,
+completely knotted up with burs; but then he was only five years old.
+
+"Heow'll yeou trade, Miss Stebbins?" asked the agent. "I've a mind to
+take the critter, if you'll trade even, though I don't know the pints
+of a horse. I ain't a horse jockey. Heowever, you're a lone woman, and
+I want to oblige you. You hain't got nobody to break the colt for you,
+and here's my hoss would suit you to a T. He's a nice family hoss."
+
+"Heow old is he?" asked Mrs. Stebbins.
+
+"He's _risin'_ six years," said Zebulon, and so he was.
+
+"He looks pretty well along," said the widow. "How much boot will you
+give me?"
+
+"Boot!" exclaimed Zebulon. "O, if you talk about boot, I'm off. I
+ain't no horse jockey, but I know I'm flingin' my hoss--good old
+hoss--away by tradin' even. But generosity and consideration for
+widders--specially good-lookin' ones--was allers a failin' in my
+family."
+
+"I don't know as I had orter," said the widow, thoughtfully; "if Mr.
+Stebbins was alive, you wouldn't get the colt so cheap, for he sot
+every thing by him. He's sot his pedigree down in the births, deaths,
+and marriages, in our family Bible. He allers said, poor man, he was
+goin' to make a great hoss."
+
+"That 'ere was an optical delusion," said the agent; "he warn't never
+a goin' to make a great hoss, and he won't never be a great hoss. I
+know so much, if I ain't a horse jockey. Come, now, what say? Shall I
+ungear, and leave my critter, or put on the string and be a
+travellin'?"
+
+"You may have the colt," said the widow, bursting into tears, and
+retiring, unable to witness the consummation of the sacrifice.
+
+"Come, young Burtail," said Zebulon, addressing the colt. "It's time
+you was sot to work. I don't know whether you ever had a collar over
+your darned ewe-neck or not. I don't see how any thing short of a
+crooked-neck squash could fit it; but I'll try mine on." And with
+these words he harnessed up the colt, and leaving his old "hoss" with
+the widow, drove on his way rejoicing.
+
+About fifteen miles farther east, he stopped and put up at a tavern,
+where he made an arrangement to leave the colt for a week, hiring the
+landlord's horse to pursue his journey. He gave directions to have the
+colt fed high in the interim, to have his tail nicked and put in
+pulleys, his head checked up, and his coat carefully shaved according
+to the new practice. A very astute hostler promised that every thing
+should be done according to his directions, and to his perfect
+satisfaction.
+
+Accordingly, in a week's time, when Zebulon came back, he hardly knew
+his bargain. The colt was fat as a hog. His sides shone like silver;
+his mane was neatly trimmed; his tail was crimped, and rose and fell
+in a graceful curve; and he carried his head as proudly as an Arabian.
+
+With the metamorphosed animal in the fills, the agent drove back to
+the Spread Eagle, and put up for the night. In the morning, he ordered
+his team, and paid his bill. Major Spike, who was great on horses,
+standing at the front door, was struck with the appearance of his
+guest's "cattle."
+
+"Been buying a new hoss?" said the major.
+
+"Yes; I thought I'd try one, though I ain't a horse jockey," answered
+the agent, making an excuse to examine the buckles of his harness.
+
+"Don't want to sell him, do you?" said the major.
+
+"Why, no, major, I reckon not. I expect he'll suit me fust rate. I'm
+doin' pooty well, now, and can afford to hev' somethin' nice. I
+calklate to keep him."
+
+"I don't like his color," said the major.
+
+"Well, I do," said Zebulon, getting into his wagon. "Good mornin',
+major."
+
+"Hold on," said the major. "I've got a hoss I want to show you. Jake,
+bring out the bay, and let Mr. Smith have a squint at him."
+
+The hostler brought out a square-built, chunky, bay horse, in fine
+condition, and looking like a capital roadster.
+
+"What do you think of _that_ hoss, Mr. Smith?" asked the major,
+triumphantly.
+
+"Pretty fair hoss," said the agent. "But I tell you I'm no judge of
+horses; I ain't a horse jockey."
+
+"Well, now, I tell you what," said the major; "I'm a darned fool for
+doin' of it; but when I take a fancy, I don't mind expense to gratify
+it. I'm willing to swap hosses even with you."
+
+"Even!" screamed the agent. "Now, major, that's a good one. I ain't a
+horse jockey. I don't know the value of the critters; but I ain't
+altogether a reg'lar, soft-headed, know-nothin' fool; and if I had a
+mind to part with this 'ere splendiferous animal, I should want boot."
+
+"You're a hard one," said the major; "but as fur as twenty
+dollars----"
+
+"Twenty dollars! get out," said the agent, indignantly. "G'lang, Bob!"
+and he actually started his team.
+
+"Hold on!" roared the major. "What do you want?"
+
+"Say forty, and I'll do it--no, I won't," said the agent.
+
+"You said you would. It's a bargain. You said forty, didn't he, Jake?"
+
+The hostler could not deny it.
+
+"Well, you're the hardest customer _I_ ever see!" muttered the agent,
+as he got out of the wagon. "This is the wust mornin's work I ever
+did. Let me have your old bay, and be a travellin'. You'd hev' a
+fellur's eye teeth afore he knowed it, ef you wanted 'em."
+
+The major chuckled as he counted out forty dollars and handed them to
+the agent. He eagerly assisted the hostler to ungear the coveted
+horse; and when the bay was harnessed up, did not urge the agent to
+stop, and the latter drove off, looking as melancholy as if he had
+buried all his relations.
+
+The major drove out with his new purchase that very day; but his
+performance did not equal his expectations. However, as an experienced
+horse jockey, he knew that great allowances are to be made for a green
+horse, and he promised to train him up to "2.50," at the least. But
+before one week had passed over his head, his expectations were all
+dashed. There was no "go" in the animal. His nose dropped to the
+ground, his tail slunk, and his toes dug into the gravel as if he was
+boring for water. The major had to confess that he had been completely
+taken in.
+
+"That infernal rascal!" said he; "I wish I could catch him here
+again."
+
+"You ain't very likely to," remarked Jake, the hostler, dryly.
+
+"Why so? Do you know any thing about him? Did you ever see him
+before?"
+
+"Ever see him! why, he came from the same place that I did."
+
+"Where's that?"
+
+"Meredith Bridge."
+
+"Meredith Bridge!" exclaimed the landlord. "And he said he wasn't a
+horse jockey. O, what an ass I was."
+
+"Very true," said the hostler.
+
+"Any how, you never saw the horse before?" said the landlord.
+
+"Never see the horse before!" exclaimed Jake. "Why, Lord bless you, I
+know'd him soonsever I sot eyes on him. He's Miss Stebbins's colt."
+
+"And you never told me of this, you scoundrel!"
+
+"I want a goin' to spile a trade," said the hostler. "And then I've
+heard you say so often that nobody could take you in on a hoss, that I
+thought it warnt no use."
+
+"The cussed swindler!" said the major. "After havin' shaved every body
+he came across, he went and shaved a hoss, and put him off on
+me--_me_, the greatest hossman in the State of Maine. The next chap
+from Meredith Bridge that comes into these diggins, I'll get a fight
+out of and lick him, jest as sure as my name's Elnathan Spike!"
+
+
+
+
+FUNERAL SHADOWS.
+
+A MYSTERY.
+
+
+The wind was howling and moaning through the almost deserted streets
+of Boston, on a chilly evening of September, as a young man of medium
+height and slight figure drew a faded and threadbare black cloak
+around him, pulled his fur cap down on his forehead to shelter his
+eyes from the cutting wind, and strode down Washington Street in a
+northerly direction, with a rapid and impatient step. Arrived at the
+door of a house of moderate pretensions, he entered hastily. We shall
+follow him to the third story, enter with him a large and wholly dark
+apartment, and watch him while he kindles a fire on the ample hearth
+stone. A pale-blue flame flickers hesitatingly among the wood, and
+conjures up from the walls around strange shapes and countenances
+bathed in the indistinct and lurid light. And now the flame grows
+brighter, and the heavy furniture in the apartment flings strange
+shadows, horizontal, diagonal, and perpendicular; and the pictures on
+the wall (for we are in a painter's studio) looked quite as vague and
+vapory as the projected shadows. It is not difficult to imagine some
+of these faces endowed with vitality, and so wild and startling are
+many of them that the wavering shadows seem to belong to them, and to
+be their strangely-animated limbs.
+
+The painter lit a lamp, and then a huge meerschaum filled with
+fragrant tobacco, his nightly solace and daily inspiration. While the
+smoke wreaths slowly ascended to the ceiling, he wove his Gothic
+fancies, and saw, in the blue clouds that hovered over him, embryo
+designs and groups that he afterwards transferred to canvas.
+
+Malise Grey was an artist of great but peculiar talent--a fine
+draughtsman, an admirable colorist, but his imagination was of a
+Gothic cast, and he delighted in strange, fantastical, and
+supernatural subjects. He had travelled much in Germany, and his mind
+was imbued with the superstitions and legends of that storied land.
+These he loved to illustrate with his pencil, and his walls were
+covered with German scenes and subjects, from the "Witches' Sabbath"
+to the "Castled Crag of Drachenfels." Portraits he painted from
+necessity, not choice; but he was too true an artist for the million.
+The sleek hypocrite wore not on his canvas the deceptive look of
+holiness that bore him on through life to wealth and honor, but the
+crafty, sensual smile, the libertine eye, and lips that indicated the
+secret phases of his character. Imbecile beauty saw her index in the
+painted mirror. Folly stood convicted by the pencil. It was frequently
+remarked, that you might learn more of a man from a glance at his
+portrait than from months' companionship with the original. Malise
+Grey was not popular--but he lived for his art, and bread and water
+satisfied his earthly cravings.
+
+The meerschaum fairly smoked out, the artist drew from a dusty pile of
+canvases one on which he had painted a family group. It was a fancy
+piece. An old man lay upon his death bed, over which bent a weeping
+wife and a sorrowing and lovely child. The face of the latter was one
+of unearthly beauty, and Raphael or Titian might not have disdained
+the painting of those glistening blue eyes, and the falling sunbeams
+of that golden hair. The painter had poured out his soul upon that
+angelic countenance and perfect figure.
+
+"It is my ideal," said the artist, "and, by the mystic whisper of the
+heart, by the bright teaching of the star that rules my destiny, by
+the forbidden lore of which I have drank deeply, I know that the ideal
+of each mind is the reflex of the actual, and with the true artist
+fancy is existence!"
+
+The meerschaum was again filled, and Malise Grey contemplated his
+picture. The smoke wreaths rolled around it, but it shone out luminous
+and starlike. Its harmony was like the silent melody of the spheres,
+and its musical radiance dispelled the remembrance of all his
+sufferings, and lulled him like the melody of falling waters. When, at
+length, he drew his poor couch from its recess, and threw himself upon
+it, he left the picture full in sight, and continued to watch it by
+the fading firelight till its last luminous point disappeared with the
+blaze, and slumber closed his lids to make its memory brighter.
+
+The next morning was clear and sparkling; the first rays of the sun
+were like fiery rubies on the walls of the studio.
+
+The painter sprang to his feet. "The dream!" he cried. "My heart did
+not deceive me. The spirits are at work for its accomplishment."
+
+He went forth to take his daily walk. There were times when an
+appalling dread of insanity smote his heart, and once the expression
+of a friend at the recital of one of his wildest fantasies led him
+into a train of reflection and self-examination which shook his very
+soul. For a time he forsook his studio, and went abroad into the gay
+world and formed fashionable acquaintances; but he went back to his
+lonely room and his hermit life at the expiration of a few weeks,
+convinced that the madness of art was preferable to the madness of
+society. And it was a painful thing for him to go abroad, for no one
+sympathized with him. His mind dwelt either on the shadowy past, or
+the yet more shadowy future. He held no communion with the present.
+So, on the occasion we have referred to, after a hurried walk, he
+returned to his room, the door of which he had left unlocked. A veiled
+lady sat before his easel. She rose upon his entrance. His heart beat
+high with anticipations. The lady thus addressed him:--
+
+"Malise Grey, we have known each other in the land of dreams!" and
+removing her veil, she pointed with her left hand to the picture,
+while she extended her right to the painter. The ideal and the actual
+stood before him. A strange light gleamed upon the painter's mind, and
+he spoke as if prompted by some unseen power.
+
+"Esther Vaughan, by this token do I know you." He took her hand, and
+added, "By the mystic spell that drew us to each other, I conjure you
+here to plight your troth to me for weal and woe."
+
+"My father died shortly after that picture was painted," replied the
+maiden, "and my mother--my poor mother--soon followed him. The spirit
+summons commanded me to seek you out. I have obeyed."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A strange marriage was solemnized in the Old King's Chapel. The bride
+wore no rose or orange flower in her braided hair, and a long, black
+veil enveloped her from head to foot. In fact, her entire raiment, and
+that of the bridegroom, was of the same ghastly hue; and the ceremony
+was performed beneath the light of torches, which threw their funeral
+glare upon the mortuary tablets and reliefs that decorate the interior
+of the sacred edifice. As the newly-married pair were about to step
+into the carriage at the door, a thin figure in black approached the
+bride, and laid its hand upon her arm. The countenance was not
+visible. The bride uttered a sharp cry of pain and terror, and the
+figure instantly stepped back.
+
+"Hold up your torch, there, sexton," cried the painter; "some one has
+insulted the bride."
+
+A tall figure was seen stealing away through the tombstones in the
+churchyard, to which he had probably gained access through a breach in
+the wall, at that time wholly ruinous.
+
+It is not our intention to describe the happiness of Malise Grey and
+his strangely-found and strangely-wedded bride. Enough to say, it was
+like all the circumstances that composed his existence--dream-like and
+strange. So vivid were his dreams and reveries, that he often wondered
+whether they were not the actual, and his marriage life the imaginary,
+part of his existence. He could not give himself up to enjoyment; and
+sometimes, when his young wife would have lavished on him the wealth
+of her innocent caresses, he turned from her moodily, and muttered,
+"What have I to do with a spirit bride? When the sun rises, these
+shadows will disperse."
+
+Esther Grey had often solicited her husband to paint her portrait,
+since the likeness in the family picture showed her under the
+influence of grief. She wished a record of her happiness. Grey set
+about complying with her request. He assumed the task in a moment of
+inspired and fresh feeling, and went to work with heart and soul. His
+sketch was instantaneously executed, and then
+
+    "His touches they flew like leaves in a storm;
+    And the pure pearly white, and the carnation warm,
+    Contending in harmony, glowed."
+
+Suddenly he threw down his pencil, and paced the apartment to and fro
+with rapid strides. "The doomed look!" he muttered, "the doomed look!
+Esther, I can paint no more to-day."
+
+But the morrow found him early at his task. A few hours' work
+completed a portrait which, for fidelity of likeness, harmony of
+accessories, and felicity of coloring, was almost unsurpassable. Yet
+the painter refused to have it framed, and concealed it from view
+behind a curtain in his studio.
+
+A day or two afterwards, a stranger called upon the artist. He was a
+tall, thin man, attired in a threadbare suit of black bombazine. He
+was frightfully pale. His jaws were prominent, and the sallow,
+shrunken skin clung close to every muscle of his countenance. His
+dark, sunken, and glossy eyes had an unearthly expression, and his air
+was melancholy in the extreme. A nameless chill came over the painter
+as he surveyed the aspect of his unknown visitor. The stranger coldly
+surveyed the productions of the artist, and honored them with a few
+brief comments. At length he paused before the veiled picture, and
+said, "This picture of your wife belongs to me."
+
+The painter was so strong a believer in the supernatural, had been
+subject to so many inexplicable influences, that he felt no surprise
+at the stranger's naming the subject of the veiled picture without
+uncovering it. But he repeated, sternly, "Belongs to you? What mean
+you by that remark?"
+
+"I mean it is, or will be mine, by purchase."
+
+"Not so."
+
+"Then you will not sell it?"
+
+"I will not part with it at any price."
+
+The stranger smiled, but not sneeringly or sarcastically The
+expression of his countenance was mournful in the extreme, and
+likewise unpleasant, because the parting of his shrivelled lips
+displayed his large, yellow teeth in unpleasant relief. He opened the
+door, but paused upon the threshold.
+
+"You will not part with it?"
+
+"Once more, no!" replied the painter.
+
+"No matter; the original will soon be mine."
+
+The door closed rapidly behind his noiseless steps. A vague terror
+shot through the soul of the artist.
+
+When Esther Vaughan came to the dwelling of the painter, she was
+radiant with a health which had triumphed over sorrow and long
+watching, but the seeds of disease now fastened upon her frame, and
+she sunk under its influence, growing daily feebler. The almost
+distracted husband employed the best physicians in the city, and under
+their efforts Esther, for a while, seemed to revive. One day, in
+solemn conclave, they decided that the patient would live, and
+announced the intelligence to the poor painter, as he sat in his
+lonely studio, with much pomposity and emphasis. At the time of this
+announcement, the painter was standing opposite the open door through
+which the physicians had just entered. At the moment when a smile of
+gratified love was lighting up his intelligent countenance, his eyes,
+looking beyond the group of visitors, caught in the corridor those of
+the strange bidder for the veiled picture. The unknown shook his head
+slowly and mournfully, then turned and retired.
+
+"Stop him, gentlemen," cried the painter, bursting through the group
+of leeches; "he is a deadly enemy!"
+
+The physicians looked at each other, smiled darkly, and shook their
+heads.
+
+"Poor Grey!" said an old doctor.
+
+"Mad?" asked the youngest of the group.
+
+"The cell, the chain, and scourge would be a wholesome prescription,"
+said the first speaker.
+
+Such were the tender mercies of science to madness in the eighteenth
+century.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a hushed midsummer night. The hum of busy footsteps had long
+since died away, and the twinkling lights had faded, one by one, from
+the huge bulk of the metropolis. To the lonely night watcher, there
+was enough of light in the mild effulgence of the moon to distinguish
+whether the pale invalid woke or slumbered; whether the repose of the
+dead was inviolate, or invaded by noisome things that move abroad only
+in darkness. And midway between life and death, so motionless that you
+would say she belonged to the dark realm of the latter, so lovely that
+the former still seemed to claim her own, lay the earth-born love of
+the painter, with her ethereal essence yet hovering near the beloved
+of her soul. The painter sat by the bedside, with her thin, pale hand
+clasped in his. He had listened to her last accents; he had heard her
+call him, in the fervor of her affection, "her beautiful, her own;"
+and he knew that, ere the unseen clock had recorded the death of
+another hour, the feeble pulse that fluttered beneath his fingers
+would have ceased to beat. Yet, with all this, his eyes were tearless,
+and his heart less heavy than in those dark dreams which had
+foreshadowed this event. In weal or woe, his prophetic dreams seemed
+even more impressive than the realities which followed them.
+
+It appeared as if there were a magnetic influence in the touch of the
+dying hand; that the soul of Esther, bathed in the dawning light of
+the better world, had communicated a portion of its brightness to his
+own. So the hours wore on; the feeble pulse yet beat, but fainter and
+fainter. At last, through the open window which commanded a view of
+the east, the brightening streaks of dawn appeared; in the leaves of a
+solitary tree, that stood amid a wilderness of brick hard by, was
+heard the faint, tremulous twitter of a bird waiting but a ruddier ray
+to launch forth upon his dewy pinions. A smile, like a ray of light,
+dawned upon the countenance of Esther. She pointed to a shadowy alcove
+in the chamber, and the painter's eye, following the indication,
+detected the figure of his mysterious and prophetic visitor. But the
+countenance of the unknown was milder, softer; a veil of brightness
+had fallen upon the more repulsive lineaments, and when the broad
+daylight beamed into the apartment, his image melted into the ray,
+like a rain-drop into a sunny sea. A thrill ran through the painter's
+frame; he gazed upon the face of Esther; it was that of death.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+An unfinished painting rests upon an easel; it is a glimpse of
+paradise. In the centre is a focus of almost intolerable splendor, the
+luminous veil of the Inconceivable and Infinite; while towards it, as
+if drawn by a vortex of glory, yet held in suspense when too near,
+hovers a cloud of radiant forms and faces, their souls, pure and
+beatified, beaming from their countenances, all full of adoration,
+intelligence, and bliss. The painter sat before it, giving the last
+touches with a feeble yet graceful hand. A light seemed to stream upon
+him from the picture, and lit up his pale, inspired countenance.
+
+The door opened, yet the painter turned not from his task; he heard no
+footstep, yet he knew that the messenger--no longer feared, but hoped
+for--was standing at his side.
+
+"One touch more," he said, softly. "Thus 'tis done, and bravely done!"
+
+He turned--the mysterious messenger was truly there. But as the
+painter gazed, the herald's form was transfigured; his poor garments
+had given place to shining raiments; his countenance beamed glory and
+goodness; effulgent wings expanded their snowy plumage from his
+glorious shoulders, and on his forehead shone a star like that of
+morning. He touched the mortal hand that throbbed to meet his clasp;
+the last film fell from the painter's eye, and he saw, with ecstasy,
+no horrid phantom, but AZRAEL, the Angel of Death, great,
+beautiful, and good.
+
+
+
+
+THE LATE ELIAS MUGGS,
+
+CAPTAIN IN THE M. V. M.
+
+
+Elias Muggs is no more! Hepzibah Muggs is a widow; a stranger has
+purchased the stock of West India goods, and the Bluetown Fusileers
+are commanded by the first lieutenant. These are sad changes.
+
+It is not a little remarkable that though Captain Elias Muggs was not
+born in the same year as the Duke of Wellington, (though, by the way,
+every body else seems to have been,) yet he died about the same time.
+There was a striking similarity between their characters and
+positions. The Iron Duke was commander-in-chief of the allied forces
+at the battle of Waterloo, and Elias Muggs was commander of the
+Bluetown Fusileers. If Elias Muggs had been born on the other side of
+the water, he probably would have been the Duke of Wellington; and if
+the Duke of Wellington had been born here, he would probably have been
+Elias Muggs. This proposition may appear a metaphysical subtlety to
+obtuse minds, but to ours it seems as clear as mud.
+
+When such a man dies, he must not be permitted to depart
+
+    "Without the meed of one melodious tear."
+
+His loss is a national loss. Nature seems to have intended him for
+President of the United States, but "left him two drinks behind;"
+whence we may conclude that Nature is a humbug, a conclusion
+practically arrived at by most artists, living and dead.
+
+Elias Muggs, from his tenderest years, was devoted to groceries and
+glory. His venerable schoolmistress, who has outlived her illustrious
+pupil, and is now supported by the town whose founders were formed by
+her care, and who laid the foundation of our hero's greatness by the
+powerful application of birch at the seat of learning, assured us, in
+a recent interview, that the military propensities of Muggs were
+developed at an early age. She observed that it was impossible to fix
+his attention on the classic page of Noah Webster when the Bluetown
+Fusileers were passing the school house with drum and fife, and that
+the motive of his first experiment at "hooking jack" was a desire to
+attend a country muster in the neighboring town. She added, that she
+distinctly remembered having confiscated a box of tin soldiers with
+which he was amusing himself, and that he threatened to "punch her
+eye" if she did not release the unconscious prisoners of war on
+_parole_. These are very important facts.
+
+We are unable to state the precise age at which Elias entered the
+service--but the town clerk of Bluetown places it at twenty-one. He
+went through the different grades with great rapidity, and was finally
+chosen captain in a warmly-contested election. There is no question
+that he would have been elected unanimously, without difficulty, had
+there not existed a great doubt in the _corps_ (Captain Muggs, by the
+way, always pronounced this word, and spelled it, _corpse_) of his
+ability to "treat;" whereas his adversary was distinguished for
+possessing a "pocket full of rocks," and a willingness "to treat every
+body." The success of our hero, under the circumstances, was purely
+owing to military merit. The moment he was chosen, he took the field
+at the head of his command. Admiring Bluetown gazed approvingly upon
+his swallow-tailed coat, his tall plume, his shining battle blade, his
+plated scabbard, worsted sash, and low-heeled, cowhide boots. The
+fair, who are ever ready to award their smiles to chivalry, were
+unanimous in their approval, and Deacon Dogget's daughter was heard to
+murmur, "O, what a pooty soger 'lias makes!" "Upon this hint he spake"
+a few days afterwards, and in due time they were married. But enough
+of that--our essay treats of war, not love.
+
+In his "first field," Captain Muggs displayed his extraordinary
+knowledge of tactics. He it was who first discovered the method of
+"dressing" a line, by backing it up against a curbstone. He also
+divested military science of many pedantic terms, which tend only to
+confuse the young conscript, and dampen the military ardor of the
+patriot soldier. He substituted the brief and soldierly words of
+command, "haw!" "gee!" and "whoa!" for "left," "right," and "halt."
+His spirited "let her rip!" was an infinite improvement on the "fire"
+of the Steuben manual. The object of the commander is to make himself
+understood readily by his men, and in this Captain Muggs was perfectly
+successful.
+
+The greatest commanders have been famous for their terse eloquence.
+Napoleon said to his troops in Egypt, "Soldiers, from the summit of
+these pyramids twenty centuries look down on you this day." Scott, in
+Mexico, said to Smith's brigade, "Brave rifles, you have been baptized
+in fire, and have come out steel." And Muggs, at Bluetown, after the
+last manoeuvre, said, "Feller sogers, that 'ere was prime--and now
+less adjourn to the tavern and likker up at my expense." It is
+questionable whether any speech of Napoleon or Scott ever excited more
+enthusiasm.
+
+The company adjourned to the tavern, and after plentifully refreshing
+with long nines, pigtail, New England, and crackers, departed with
+three cheers for the "cap'n." We would fain draw a veil over what
+followed. But a strict regard for truth compels us to "speak right out
+in meetin'." All great men have their weaknesses. Cęsar was not
+immaculate. Alexander the Great died of _mania a potu_. There was no
+Maine liquor law at the time of which we speak. There was not even a
+temperance society in all Bluetown.
+
+Captain Muggs was in the green and salad days of youth. He was flushed
+with military success, young, ardent, and imprudent.
+
+He retired to a private room with the commissioned officers of his
+"corps," and left a liberal order at the bar. Healths were drank,
+songs sung, patriotic and otherwise, more otherwise than patriotic,
+and the "fast and furious" fun was driven into the small hours of the
+morning. When the bill was presented, Captain Muggs was without funds;
+and his gallant subordinates, on the bare suggestion of a loan,
+incontinently vanished. Captain Muggs intimated something about
+credit. The landlord shook his head. Captain Muggs was grieved, and
+the landlord consulted the flytraps on the ceiling, still extending
+his open hand, with the palm upwards, in the direction of the officer.
+Finding the publican obdurate, the captain proposed to leave his
+uniform and equipments in pawn, and the offer was accepted.
+
+And here let us pause to contemplate the moral greatness of this act.
+Those insignia of rank were as dear to Muggs as the apple of his eye.
+They were to him what the sceptre and crown were to Napoleon. It was
+like tugging at his heartstrings to unfasten the belt and sash, and
+lay the sword upon the table. Marsyas suffered not more when Apollo
+removed his skin than Muggs did when the landlord stripped off his
+coat and epaulets. When the hat and plume were laid upon the altar of
+offended Mammon, Muggs uttered a deep groan, and departed in his shirt
+sleeves. If we were a great historical painter, we should prefer this
+subject to that of Washington resigning his commission as
+commander-in-chief of the revolutionary army.
+
+The same integrity distinguished Captain Muggs throughout his life.
+When, some years afterwards, he received a letter from a lawyer,
+stating that, in case he did not immediately satisfy a certain claim
+of five years' standing, legal measures would be adopted to enforce
+payment, he remitted the sum in question without a murmur.
+
+Personal courage is not deemed indispensable to great commanders.
+Marlborough is said to have trembled on the battle field. It is the
+part of the officer to command--of the men to execute. But Muggs was
+as valiant as he was wise. On a field day, when a certain turbulent
+apple woman persisted in encroaching on the lines, Captain Muggs
+charged her in person, unsupported by his troops, upset her apple
+stall, and expelled her from the lines. Such achievements are of rare
+occurrence.
+
+On every parade day, Muggs was "thar." In every sham fight he was
+first and foremost. He was always loudest in proclaiming the "dooty of
+the milingtary to support the civil power." Yet in the great riot
+caused by the illegal impounding of Steve Gubbins's bull, when
+Bluetown was divided against itself, her constabulary force and
+"specials" ignominiously beaten and routed, Captain Muggs, with an
+heroic deafness to the call of glory and the selectmen, from a
+reluctance to shed the blood of his fellow-citizens, refused to call
+out his company, and concealed himself in a hayloft till the affray
+was over, the pound completely demolished, and the bull rescued from
+the minions of the law.
+
+The loss of such a man is irreparable. What a president he would have
+made! Magnanimity, self-denial, punctuality, eloquence, popularity,
+military glory--why, he had all the elements of success. But our
+heroes are fast passing away. Muggs is gone, and we must make up our
+minds to be governed by mere statesmen!
+
+
+
+
+THE SOLDIER'S WIFE.
+
+
+It was a fine night in the autumn of the year 1805, and the stars
+shone as brilliantly over the gay city of Paris as if they had burned
+in an Italian heaven. The cumbrous mass of the palace of the
+Tuileries, instead of lying like a dark leviathan in the shadows of
+the night, blazed with light in all its many-windowed length; for the
+soldier emperor, the idol of his subjects, that night gave a grand
+ball and reception to the world. Troops in full uniform were under
+arms, and the great lamps of the court yard gazed brightly on the
+channelled bayonets and polished musket barrels of the sentinels.
+Carriage after carriage drew up at the great portal, and emitted
+beautiful ladies, brilliantly attired, and marshals and staff officers
+blazing with embroidery; for Napoleon, simple and unostentatious in
+his own person, well knew the importance of surrounding himself with a
+brilliant court; and the people, even the rude and ragged denizens of
+the Faubourgs St. Antoine and St. Marceau, as they hung upon the iron
+railing and scanned the splendid dresses of the guests as they
+alighted from their carriages, were well pleased to see that a throne
+created by themselves could vie in splendor with the old hereditary
+seats of loyalty that existed in spite of the execrations of the
+million. They marked with pleasure the arms of some of the ancient
+Bourbon nobility on the panels of some of the glittering equipages,
+for all the aristocracy of France had not joined the banners of her
+adversaries.
+
+Within the walls of the palace, in the reception room, the scene was
+yet more dazzling. The draperies of the throne, at the foot of which
+stood Josephine, more impressive from her native and winning
+loveliness than the splendor of the priceless diamonds that decked her
+brow and neck, and the emperor in the simple attire of a gentleman,
+with no distinctive ornament save the grand cross of the Legion of
+Honor: the draperies of the throne, we say, no longer presented the
+golden lilies of the Bourbon, but the golden bees of Napoleon--symbols
+of the industry and perseverance which had raised him to his rank. The
+eye, as it roamed around the brilliant circle, encountered few of
+those vapid faces which make the staple of the surroundings of an
+hereditary throne. Every epaulet that sparkled there graced the
+shoulder of a man who had won his grade by exposure, gallantry, and
+intellect. There was the scarred veteran of the Sambre and the Meuse,
+heroes who had crossed "that terrible bridge of Lodi" in the path of
+the French tricolor and the face of the withering fire of Austrian
+batteries--dim eyes that had been blighted by the burning sands of
+Egypt, warriors who had braved the perils of the Alps, and the dangers
+of the plains of Lombardy.
+
+Somewhat apart from the brilliant circle, in the embrasure of one of
+the deep and lofty windows, stood a young officer, in conversation
+with a beautiful young woman. The latter was attired in white satin,
+and the rich lace veil that half hid the orange flower in her hair,
+and descended gracefully over her faultless shoulders, proclaimed her
+to be a bride. And the young soldier, her companion? The radiant pride
+and joy that beamed from his fine dark eye, the animation of his
+manner, and the tenderness of his tone, as he addressed the lady,
+emphatically proclaimed the bridegroom. Such, indeed, were the
+relations of Colonel Lioncourt and Leonide Lasalle, who had that day
+only lost her maiden appellation at the altar of Notre Dame.
+
+So absorbed was the young colonel in the conversation, that it was
+only after he had been twice addressed that he turned and noticed the
+proximity of a third person.
+
+"Sorry to interrupt you, colonel," said the new comer, a young man
+with dark lowering brows, deep-set eyes, and a sinister expression,
+heightened by a sabre cut that traversed his left cheek diagonally,
+"but his majesty desires to speak to you."
+
+"_Au revoir_, Leonide," said the young colonel to his bride; "I will
+join you again in a few moments. The emperor is laconic enough in his
+communications. Meanwhile, I leave you to the care of my friend."
+
+The emperor was already impatient, and the moment the colonel appeared
+he grasped his arm familiarly, and led him aside, while the immediate
+group of courtiers fell back respectfully, and out of earshot.
+
+"Colonel," said Napoleon, "I have news--great news. The enemies of
+France will not give us a moment's repose. It is no longer England
+alone that threatens us. I could have crushed England, had she met me
+single handed. In a month my eagles would have lighted on the tower of
+London. Russia, Austria, and Sweden have joined her. Our frontier is
+threatened by half a million men. Lioncourt, you are brave and trusty,
+and I will tell you what I dare communicate to few. My movements must
+be as secret as the grave. Paris must not suspect them. What do you
+think I propose doing?"
+
+"To strengthen the frontier by concentrating your troops on different
+points, sire."
+
+Napoleon smiled.
+
+"No, Lioncourt; we will beard the lion in his den. I have broken up
+the camp at Boulogne. I will rush at once into the heart of Germany. I
+will separate the enemy's columns from each other. The first division
+that marches against me shall be outflanked, attacked in the rear, and
+cut to pieces. One after another they shall fall before me. In three
+months I shall triumph over the coalition. I shall dictate terms of
+peace from the field of battle. Lioncourt, they are short sighted.
+They know nothing of me yet. They fancy that my heart is engaged in
+these frivolous pomps and gayeties with which I amuse the people--that
+I have become enervated by 'Capuan delights.' But you know me better.
+You know that my throne is the back of my war horse--that the sword is
+my sceptre, cannon my diplomatists. I wished for peace--they have
+elected war; on their heads be the guilt and the bloodshed."
+
+He paused, out of breath with the rapidity of his utterance. Colonel
+Lioncourt waited respectfully till he should recommence.
+
+"Colonel," he said, at last, in a tone of sadness, a melancholy shade
+passing over his fine features, "they have described me as a
+sanguinary monster. History will do me justice. History will attest
+that I never drew the sword without just cause--that I returned it to
+its scabbard on the earliest opportunity. Not on my soul the guilt of
+slaughtered thousands, of villages burned, of peasants driven from
+their homes, of fields ravaged, of women widowed, and children
+orphaned. My whole soul yearns for peace. I would build my true
+greatness on the promulgation of just laws, the culture of religion
+and intellect, the triumphs of agriculture, and the arts of peace. But
+I must obey my destiny. Europe must be ploughed by the sword. The
+struggle is between civilization and barbarism, freedom and despotism,
+the Frank and the Cossack. But I prate too long. Colonel, I sent for
+you to pronounce a hard sentence. Your regiment of hussars is already
+under arms. You must march to-night--instantly."
+
+"Sire," said Lioncourt, with a sigh. "This news will kill my poor
+wife."
+
+"Josephine shall console her," said the emperor. "I would have
+informed you earlier, but St. Eustache, your lieutenant colonel, whom
+I now see talking with madame, advised me not to do so."
+
+"I thank him," muttered Lioncourt bitterly.
+
+"You have no time to lose. I counsel you to leave the presence
+quietly. Let your wife learn that you have marched by a letter. Better
+that than the agony of parting. I know something of human, and
+particularly feminine, nature. Adieu, colonel. Courage and good
+fortune."
+
+And so saying, the emperor glided easily back to the circle he had
+left. Lioncourt's brain reeled under the blow he had received. He
+gazed upon his wife as she stood radiant, beautiful, and unsuspicious,
+under a glittering chandelier, with the same feelings with which a man
+takes his last look of the shore as he sinks forever in the
+treacherous wave. In another moment he was gone. The sentries
+presented arms as he passed out of the palace. His orderly was in the
+court yard holding his charger by the bridle. The colonel threw
+himself into the saddle, and was soon at the head of the regiment. The
+trumpets and kettledrums were mute--for such were the general orders
+and the regiment rode out of the city in silence, broken only by the
+heavy tramping of the horses' hoofs, and the clanking of scabbards
+rebounding from their flanks. As they passed out of one of the gates,
+the lieutenant colonel, St. Eustache, joined the column at a gallop,
+and reported to his commander.
+
+St. Eustache had been a lover of Leonide Lasalle, had proposed for her
+hand, and been rejected. Still, he had not utterly ceased to love her,
+but his desire of possession was now mingled with a thirst of
+vengeance. He both hated and loved the beautiful Leonide, while he
+regarded his fortunate rival and commanding officer with feelings of
+unmitigated hatred. Yet he had art enough to conceal his guilty
+feelings and guilty projects. While he rode beside the colonel, his
+thoughts ran somewhat in this vein:--
+
+"Well, at least I have succeeded in marring their joy. Lioncourt's
+triumph over me was short lived. He may never see his bride again. He
+is venturesome and rash. We have sharp work before us, or I'm very
+much mistaken, and Colonel Eugene Lioncourt may figure in the list of
+killed in the first general engagement. Then I renew my suit, and if
+Leonide again reject me, there's no virtue in determination."
+
+While the colonel's regiment was slowly pursuing its way, the
+festivities at the Tuileries were drawing to a close. Madame Lioncourt
+wondered very much at the absence of her husband, and still more so
+when the guests began to depart, and he did not reappear to escort her
+to her carriage. It was then that the empress honored her with an
+interview, and, with tears in her beautiful eyes, informed her of her
+husband's march in obedience to orders. The poor lady bore bravely up
+against the effect of this intelligence so long as she was in the
+presence of the emperor and empress; but when alone in her carriage,
+on her way to her now solitary home, she burst into a flood of tears,
+and it seemed as if her very heart were breaking. The next morning
+brought a short but kind note from her husband. It was overflowing
+with affection and full of hope. The campaign, conducted by Napoleon's
+genius, he thought, could not fail to be brief, and he should return
+with new laurels, to lay them at the feet of his lovely bride. This
+little note was treasured up by Leonide as if it had been the relic of
+a saint, and its words of love and promise cheered her day after day
+in the absence of her husband.
+
+At last, news came to the capital from the seat of war. The battle of
+Austerlitz had been fought and won. The cannon thundered from the
+Invalides, Paris blazed with illuminations, and the steeples reeled
+with the crashing peals of the joy bells. No particulars came at
+first; many had been killed and wounded; but the French eagles were
+victorious, and this was all the people at first cared for.
+Lioncourt's regiment had covered itself with glory, but no special
+mention was made of him in the first despatches.
+
+At last, one morning, a visitor was announced to Madame Lioncourt, and
+she hastily descended to her salon to receive him. St. Eustache
+advanced to meet her. She eagerly scanned his countenance as he held
+out his hand. It was grave and sombre. A second glance showed her a
+black crape sword knot on the hilt of his sabre. She fainted and sank
+upon the floor before St. Eustache could catch her in his arms. He
+summoned her maid, and the latter, with the assistance of another
+servant, bore her mistress from the apartment.
+
+St. Eustache paced the room to and fro, occasionally raising his eyes
+to contemplate the rich gilded ceiling, the paintings and statuettes,
+which adorned the _salon_.
+
+"Some style here!" he muttered. "And they say she has this in her own
+right. Lioncourt left her some funds, I fancy. Young, beautiful, rich;
+by Jove, she is a prize."
+
+His meditations were interrupted by the return of Madame Lioncourt,
+who motioned her visitor to be seated, and sank into a _fauteuil_
+herself. She was pale as marble, and her eyes were red with recent
+tears, but her voice was calm and firm as she said,--
+
+"I need hardly ask you, sir, if my poor husband has fallen. I could
+read ill news in your countenance as soon as you appeared. Were you
+near him when he fell?"
+
+"I was beside him, madame. We were charging the flying Russians. Our
+horses, maddened with excitement, had carried us far in advance of our
+column, when suddenly we were surrounded by a group of horsemen, who
+took courage and rallied for a moment. Lioncourt was carrying death in
+every blow he dealt, when a Russian cavalry officer, discharging his
+pistol at point blank distance, shot him dead from the saddle. I saw
+no more, for I was myself wounded and swept away in the torrent of the
+fight. But he is dead. Even if that pistol shot had not slain him, the
+hoofs of his own troopers, as they rushed madly forward in pursuit of
+the enemy, would have trampled every spark of life out of his bosom."
+
+Leonide wrung her hands.
+
+"But you, at least, recovered his--his remains?"
+
+"Pardon, madame. I instituted a search for our colonel's body where he
+fell. But the spot had already been visited by marauders. All the
+insignia of rank had disappeared; and in the mangled heap of stripped
+and mutilated corpses, it was impossible to distinguish friend from
+foe."
+
+The widowed bride groaned deeply as she covered her face with her
+handkerchief and rocked to and fro on her seat.
+
+"Madame," said St. Eustache, "I will no longer intrude upon your
+grief. When time has somewhat assuaged the poignancy of your
+affliction, I will again call on you to tender my respectful
+sympathies."
+
+Time wore on, and with it brought those alleviations it affords to
+even the keenest sorrow. The assiduity of friends compelled Madame
+Lioncourt to lay aside her widow's weeds, and reappear in the great
+world of fashion. There, whatever may have been her secret sorrow, she
+learned to wear the mask of a smiling exterior, and even to appear
+gayest among the gay, as if she sought forgetfulness in the wildest
+excitement and most frivolous amusement.
+
+During all this time, St. Eustache, who had got a military appointment
+at Paris, was ever at her side. It was impossible for her to avoid
+him. He escorted her to her carriage when she left a ball room; he was
+the first to claim her hand when she entered. He was so respectful, so
+sad, so humble, that it was impossible to take offence at his
+assiduities, and she even began to like him in spite of former
+prejudices. Though it was evident that the freedom of her hand had
+renewed his former hopes, still no words of his ever betrayed their
+revival; only sometimes a suppressed sigh, the trembling of his hand
+as it touched hers, gave evidence that could not be mistaken.
+
+Affairs were in this condition, when a brother of Leonide, Alfred
+Lasalle, a young advocate from the provinces, came to establish
+himself in Paris. He at once became the protector and guardian of his
+sister, and, as such, conceived the same violent dislike to St.
+Eustache that Leonide had formerly entertained towards him. St.
+Eustache, after many fruitless attempts to conciliate the brother,
+gave it up in despair. Still, whenever Alfred's affairs called him
+away, he supplied his place with the young widow.
+
+At this time, play sometimes ran very high in the salons of the
+capital; and Leonide rose from the _écarté_ table one night, indebted
+to St. Eustache in the sum of a thousand crowns.
+
+"Call on me to-morrow," said Leonide, with a flushed face, "and I will
+repay you."
+
+St. Eustache was pretty well acquainted with the affairs of the young
+widow. He knew that she had been living on her capital for some time,
+and that she had reached the limit of her resources. He knew that it
+was utterly impossible for her to raise a thousand crowns in
+twenty-four hours. She must, therefore, he thought, cancel her debt by
+her hand. This was the alternative to which he had been manoeuvring
+to bring her; therefore he entered her salon the next day with the air
+of a victor. He was no longer covetous of wealth; he had prospered in
+his own speculations, and was immensely rich; the hand of Leonide,
+even without her heart, was now all he sought.
+
+Madame Lioncourt received him with the easy assurance of a woman of
+the world. He, on his part, advanced with the grace of a French
+courtier.
+
+"You came to remind me, sir," said the lady, "that I was unfortunate
+at play last night."
+
+"No, madame," said St. Eustache, "it is yourself who reminds me of it.
+Pardon me, I am somewhat acquainted with your circumstances. I know
+that you are no longer as rich as you are beautiful----"
+
+"Sir!"
+
+"Pardon the allusion, madam; I did not intend to insult you, but only
+to suggest that the payment of money was not the only method of
+cancelling a debt."
+
+"I do not understand you, sir."
+
+"Leonide, it is time that you did understand me!" cried St. Eustache,
+impetuously. "It is time that I should throw off the mask and assert
+my claim to your hand. I loved you once--I love you still. You are now
+in my power. You cannot pay me the money you owe me; but you can make
+me happy. Your hand----"
+
+"Colonel St. Eustache," said the lady, coldly, as she rose and handed
+him a pocket book, "be good enough to count those notes."
+
+St. Eustache ran over them hastily.
+
+"A thousand crowns, madame," he said.
+
+"Then the debt is cancelled. Never renew the proposal of this morning.
+Good day, sir."
+
+With a haughty inclination of the head, she swept out of the room.
+
+"Never renew the proposal of this morning!" said St. Eustache to
+himself. "A thousand furies! It shall be renewed to-night. She will be
+at the masquerade at the opera house. I have bribed her chambermaid,
+and know her dress. She shall hear me plead my suit. I have dared too
+much, perilled too much, to give her up so easily."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Amidst the gay crowd at the opera house was a light figure in a pink
+domino, attended by one in black. Not to make a mystery of these
+characters, they were Madame Lioncourt and her brother.
+
+"Dear Alfred," said the lady, "I am afraid you impoverished yourself
+to aid me in extricating myself from the toils of my persevering
+suitor."
+
+"Say nothing of it, Leonide," replied Alfred. "Your liberty is cheaply
+purchased by the sacrifice."
+
+"Lady, one word with you," said a low voice at her side.
+
+She turned, and beheld a pilgrim with scrip, staff, and cross, and
+closely masked.
+
+"Twenty, if you will, reverend sir," she replied gayly. "But methinks
+this is a strange scene for one of your solemn vocation."
+
+"The true man," replied the mask, "finds something to interest him in
+every scene of life. Wherever men and women assemble in crowds, there
+is always an opportunity for counsel and consolation. The pious
+pilgrim should console the sad; and are not the saddest hearts found
+in the gayest throngs?"
+
+"True, true," replied Leonide, with a deep sigh.
+
+"But you, at least, are happy, lady," said the pilgrim.
+
+"Happy! Could you see my face, you would see a mask more impenetrable
+than this velvet one I wear. It is all smiles," she whispered. "But,"
+she added, laying her hand on her bosom,--
+
+    "'I have a silent sorrow here,
+      A grief I'll ne'er impart;
+    It heaves no sigh, it sheds no tear,
+      But it consumes my heart.'"
+
+"Can it be possible!" cried the pilgrim. "You have the reputation of
+being one of the gayest of the Parisian ladies."
+
+"Then you know me not."
+
+"I know you by name, Madame Lioncourt."
+
+"Then you should know that name represents a noble and gallant
+heart--the life of my own widowed bosom. You should know that
+Lioncourt, the bravest of the brave, the truest of the true, lies in
+a nameless grave at Austerlitz, the very spot unknown."
+
+"I too was at Austerlitz," said the pilgrim, in a deep voice.
+
+"You were at Austerlitz!"
+
+"Yes, madame, in the--hussars."
+
+"It was my husband's regiment."
+
+"Yes, madame. I was for a long time supposed to be dead. My comrades
+saw me fall, and I was reported for dead. Faith, I came near dying.
+But I fell into the hands of some good people, though they were
+Austrians, and they took good care of me, and cured my wounds; and
+here I am at last."
+
+"Ah! why," exclaimed Madame Lioncourt, "may this not have been the
+fate of your colonel? Why may not he too have survived the carnage,
+and been preserved in the same manner? His body was never recognized."
+
+"Very possibly Lioncourt may still be living."
+
+"Yet St. Eustache told me he was dead."
+
+"He is a false traitor!" cried the pilgrim. "Leonide!" cried he, with
+thrilling emphasis, "you have borne bad news; can you bear good?"
+
+"God will give me strength to bear good tidings," cried the lady.
+
+"Then arm yourself with all your energy," said the stranger.
+"Lioncourt lives."
+
+"Lives!" said Leonide, faintly, grasping the arm of the stranger to
+support herself from falling.
+
+"Courage, madame; I tell you the truth. He lives."
+
+"Then take me to him. The crisis is past. I can bear to meet him;
+nothing but delay will kill me now!" cried the lady, hurriedly.
+
+"He stands beside you!" said the stranger.
+
+A long, deep sigh, and Leonide lay in the arms of the pilgrim, who was
+still masked. But she recovered herself with superhuman energy, and
+said,--
+
+"Come, come, I must see you. I must kneel at your feet. I must clasp
+your hands; my joy--my love--my life!"
+
+"Room, room, there!" cried a seneschal. "The emperor!"
+
+"Dearest Leonide," whispered a voice in her ear, "I resolved to see
+you again to-night, in spite of your prohibition to renew my suit."
+
+"Then wait here beside me; do not leave me," answered the lady, as she
+recognized St. Eustache.
+
+"That will I not, dearest," was the fervent reply.
+
+Napoleon, with Josephine leaning on his arm, advanced through the
+broad space cleared by the attendants, and when he had taken up a
+position in the centre of the hall, near Lioncourt and his bride, St.
+Eustache and Lasalle, gave the signal for the company to unmask. As
+they obeyed, and every face was uncovered, his quick glance caught the
+pale and handsome features of the young cavalry colonel.
+
+"What!" he exclaimed, impetuously. "Can the grave give up its dead? Do
+our eyes deceive us? Is this indeed Lioncourt, whom we left dead upon
+the field of Austerlitz? Advance, man, and satisfy our doubts."
+
+Lioncourt advanced, and the emperor laid his hand upon his arm.
+
+"You are pale as a ghost, man; but still you're flesh and blood. Give
+an account of yourself. Speak quickly; don't you see these ladies are
+dying of curiosity? and, faith, so I am too," he added, smiling.
+
+"Sire," said the colonel, "you will, perhaps, remember ordering my
+regiment in pursuit of the flying Russians?"
+
+"Perfectly well; and they performed the service gallantly. Their rear
+was cut to pieces."
+
+"St. Eustache and I rode side by side," pursued the colonel.
+
+"Here is St. Eustache," cried the emperor, beckoning the officer to
+advance.
+
+"My dear colonel!" cried St. Eustache, embracing his old commander.
+
+"Go on, colonel," cried the emperor, stamping his foot impatiently.
+
+"We hung upon the flying rear of the enemy, sabring every man we
+overtook. Faith, I hardly know what happened afterwards," said the
+colonel, pausing.
+
+"Take up the thread of the story, St. Eustache," said the emperor;
+"don't let it break off here."
+
+"Well, sire," said St. Eustache, drawing, a long breath, "as the
+colonel and I were charging side by side, cutting right and left,
+separated from our men by the superior speed of our horses, a Russian
+officer wheeled and shot the colonel from his saddle."
+
+"That was how it happened, Lioncourt," said the emperor. "Now go on.
+Afterwards----"
+
+"When I came to my senses, sire," resumed Lioncourt, gloomily, "I
+found myself in the hands of some Austrian peasants. I had been
+plundered of my epaulets and uniform, and they took me for a common
+soldier. But they carried me to their cottage, and dressed my wound,
+and eventually I got well."
+
+"But where were you wounded, colonel?" asked the emperor.
+
+"A pistol ball had entered behind my left shoulder, and came out by my
+collar bone."
+
+"_Behind_ your left shoulder!" cried Napoleon. "And yet you were
+facing the enemy. How was that?"
+
+"Because," said the colonel, sternly, "a Frenchman, a soldier, an
+officer, a disappointed rival, took that opportunity of assassinating
+me, and shot me with his own hostler pistol."
+
+"His name!" shouted the emperor, quivering with passion, "his name; do
+you know him?"
+
+"Well.--It was Lieutenant Colonel St. Eustache!"
+
+All eyes were turned on St. Eustache. His knees knocked together, his
+eyes were fixed, cold drops of perspiration stood on his forehead. But
+in all that circle of indignant eyes, the detected criminal saw only
+the eagle orbs of the emperor, that pierced to his very soul.
+
+"Is this charge true?" asked Napoleon, quickly, quivering with one of
+his tremendous tornadoes of passion.
+
+St. Eustache could not answer; but he nodded his head.
+
+"Your sword!" cried the emperor.
+
+Mechanically the criminal drew his sabre; he had thrown off his
+domino, and now stood revealed in the uniform he disgraced, and
+offered the hilt to the emperor. Napoleon clutched it, and snapped the
+blade under foot. Then, tearing off his epaulets, he threw them on the
+floor, stamped on them, and beckoning to an officer who stood by,
+gasped out,--
+
+"A guard, a guard!"
+
+In a few minutes the tramp of armed men was heard in the saloon, and
+the wretched culprit was removed.
+
+"_General_ Lioncourt," said the emperor to his recovered officer,
+"your new commission shall be made out to-morrow. In the mean while
+the lovely Leonide shall teach you to forget your trials."
+
+The assemblage broke up. Lioncourt, his wife, and her faithful brother
+retired to their now happy home.
+
+The next day was fixed for the trial of the guilty St. Eustache before
+a court martial--a mere formal preliminary to his execution, for he
+had confessed his crime; but it appeared that during the preceding
+night he had managed to escape.
+
+Flying from justice, the wretched criminal reached one of the bridges
+that span the Seine. Climbing to the parapet, he gazed down into the
+dark and turbid flood, now black as midnight, that rolled beneath the
+yawning arch. There was no star in the sky, and here and there only a
+dim light twinkled, reflected in the muddy wave. Daylight was
+beginning to streak the east with sickly rays. Soon the great city
+would be astir. Soon hoarse voices would be clamoring for the traitor,
+the assassin, the dastard, who, in the hour of victory, had raised his
+hand against a brother Frenchman. Soon, if he lingered, his ears would
+be doomed to hear the death penalty--soon the muskets, whose fire he
+had so often commanded, would be levelled against his breast. All was
+lost,--all for which he had schemed and sinned,--the applause of his
+countrymen, the favor of his emperor, the love of Leonide. At least,
+he would disappoint Paris of a spectacle. He would die by his own act.
+A sudden spring, a heavy plunge, a few bubbles breaking on the black
+surface, and the wretched criminal was no more!
+
+Days afterwards, a couple of soldiers, lounging into La Morgue, the
+dismal receptacle where bodies are exposed for identification,
+recognized in a pallid and bloated corpse the remains of the late
+lieutenant colonel of the ----th hussars.
+
+Lioncourt learned his fate, but it threw no shadow over his bright and
+cloudless happiness.
+
+
+
+
+A KISS ON DEMAND.
+
+
+It was a very peculiar sound, something like the popping of a
+champagne cork, something like the report of a small pocket pistol,
+but exactly like nothing but itself. It was a kiss.
+
+A kiss implies two parties--unless it be one of those symbolical
+kisses produced by one pair of lips, and wafted through the air in
+token of affection or admiration. But this particular kiss was
+genuine. The parties in the case were Mrs. Phebe Mayflower, the
+newly-married wife of honest Tom Mayflower, gardener to Mr. Augustus
+Scatterly, and that young gentleman himself. Augustus was a
+good-hearted, rattle-brained spendthrift, who had employed the two or
+three years which had elapsed since his majority in "making ducks and
+drakes" of the pretty little fortune left him by his defunct sire.
+There was nothing very bad about him, excepting his prodigal habits,
+and by these he was himself the severest sufferer. Tom, his gardener,
+had been married a few weeks, and Gus, who had failed to be at the
+wedding, and missed the opportunity of "saluting the bride," took it
+into his head that it was both proper and polite that he should do so
+on the first occasion of his meeting her subsequently to that
+interesting ceremony. Mrs. Mayflower, the other party interested in
+the case, differed from him in opinion, and the young landlord kissed
+her in spite of herself. But she was not without a champion, for at
+the precise moment when Scatterly placed his audacious lips in contact
+with the blooming cheek of Mrs. M., Tom entered the garden and beheld
+the outrage.
+
+"What are you doing of, Mr. Scatterly?" he roared.
+
+"O, nothing, Tom, but asserting my rights! I was only saluting the
+bride."
+
+"Against my will, Tommy," said the poor bride, blushing like a peony,
+and wiping the offended cheek with her checked apron.
+
+"And I'll make you pay dear for it, if there's law in the land," said
+Tom.
+
+"Poh, poh! don't make a fool of yourself," said Scatterly.
+
+"I don't mean to," answered the gardener, dryly.
+
+"You're not seriously offended at the innocent liberty I took?"
+
+"Yes I be," said Tom.
+
+"Well, if you view it in that light," answered Scatterly, "I shall
+feel bound to make you reparation. You shall have a kiss from my
+bride, when I'm married."
+
+"That you never will be."
+
+"I must confess," said Scatterly, laughing, "the prospect of repayment
+seems rather distant. But who knows what will happen? I may not die a
+bachelor, after all. And if I marry--I repeat it, my dear fellow--you
+shall have a kiss from my wife."
+
+"No he shan't," said Phebe. "He shall kiss nobody but me."
+
+"Yes he shall," said Scatterly. "Have you got pen, ink, and paper,
+Tom?"
+
+"To be sure," answered the gardener. "Here they be, all handy."
+
+Scatterly sat down and wrote as follows:--
+
+     "THE WILLOWS, August --, 18--.
+
+     "Value received, I promise to pay Thomas Mayflower or order,
+     one kiss on demand.
+
+     "AUGUSTUS SCATTERLY."
+
+"There you have a legal document," said the young man, as he handed
+the paper to the grinning gardener. "And now, good folks, good by."
+
+"Mistakes will happen in the best regulated families," and so it
+chanced that, in the autumn of the same year, our bachelor met at the
+Springs a charming belle of Baltimore, to whom he lost his heart
+incontinently. His person and address were attractive, and though his
+prodigality had impaired his fortune, still a rich old maiden aunt,
+who doted on him, Miss Persimmon Verjuice, promised to do the handsome
+thing by him on condition of his marrying and settling quietly to the
+management of his estate. So, under these circumstances, he proposed,
+was accepted, and married, and brought home his beautiful young bride
+to reside with Miss Verjuice at the Willows.
+
+In the early days of the honeymoon, one fine morning, when Mr. and
+Mrs. Scatterly and the maiden aunt were walking together in the
+garden, Tom Mayflower, dressed in his best, made his appearance,
+wearing a smile of most peculiar meaning.
+
+"Julia," said Augustus, carelessly, to his young bride, "this is my
+gardener, come to pay his respects to you--honest Tom Mayflower, a
+very worthy fellow, I assure you."
+
+Mrs. Scatterly nodded condescendingly to the gardener who gazed upon
+her with the open eyes of admiration. She spoke a few words to him,
+inquired about his wife, his flowers, &c., and then turned away with
+the aunt, as if to terminate the interview.
+
+But Tom could not take his eyes off her, and he stood, gaping and
+admiring, and every now and then passing the back of his hand across
+his lips.
+
+"What do you think of my choice, Tom?" asked Scatterly,
+confidentially.
+
+"O, splendiferous!" said the gardener.
+
+"Roses and lilies in her cheeks--eh?" said Scatterly.
+
+"Her lips are as red as carnations, and her eyes as blue as
+larkspurs," said the gardener.
+
+"I'm glad you like your new mistress; now go to work, Tom."
+
+"I beg pardon, Mr. Scatterly; but I called to see you on business."
+
+"Well--out with it."
+
+"Do you remember any thing about saluting the bride?"
+
+"I remember I paid the customary homage to Mrs. Mayflower."
+
+"Well, don't you remember what you promised in case of your marriage?"
+
+"No!"
+
+Tom produced the promissory note with a grin of triumph. "It's my turn
+now, Mr. Scatterly."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean to kiss Mrs. Scatterly."
+
+"Go to the deuse, you rascal!"
+
+"O, what is the matter?" exclaimed both the ladies, startled by
+Scatterly's exclamation, and turning back to learn the cause.
+
+"This fellow has preferred a demand against me," said Scatterly.
+
+"A legal demand," said the gardener, sturdily; "and here's the
+dokiment."
+
+"Give it to me," said the old maid aunt. Tom handed her the paper with
+an air of triumph.
+
+"Am I right?" said he.
+
+"Perfectly, young man," replied Miss Verjuice; "only, when my nephew
+married, I assumed all his debts; and I am now ready myself to pay
+your claim."
+
+"Fairly trapped, by Jupiter!" exclaimed Scatterly, in an ecstasy of
+delight.
+
+"Stop, stop!" cried the unhappy gardener, recoiling from the withered
+face, bearded lip, and sharp nose of the ancient spinster; "I
+relinquish my claim--I'll write a receipt in full."
+
+"No, sir," said Scatterly; "you pressed me for payment this
+moment--and you shall take your pay, or I discharge you from my
+employ."
+
+"I am ready," said the spinster, meekly.
+
+Tom shuddered--crawled up to the old lady--shut his eyes--made up a
+horrible face, and kissed her, while Mr. and Mrs. S. stood by,
+convulsed with laughter.
+
+Five minutes afterwards, Tom entered the gardener's lodge, pale, weak,
+and trembling, and sank into a chair.
+
+"Give me a glass of water, Phebe!" he gasped.
+
+"Dear, what has happened?" asked the little woman.
+
+"Happened! why that cussed Miss Verjuice is paying Mr. Scatterly's
+debts."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, I presented my promissory note--he handed it to
+her--and--and--O murder!--_I've been kissing the old woman!_"
+
+Phebe threw her arms about his neck, and pressed her lips to his, and
+Thomas Mayflower then and there solemnly promised that he would
+nevermore have any thing to do with KISSES ON DEMAND!
+
+
+
+
+THE RIFLE SHOT.
+
+A MADMAN'S CONFESSION.
+
+
+It is midnight. The stealthy step of the restless maniac is no longer
+heard in the long, cheerless corridors; the ravings of the incurable
+cannot penetrate the deep walls of the cells in which their despair is
+immured; even the guardians of the establishment are asleep. Without,
+what silence! The branches of the immemorial trees hang pendulous and
+motionless; the last railway train, with its monster eyes of light,
+has thundered by. The neighboring city seems like one vast mausoleum,
+over which the silent stars are keeping watch and ward, and weeping
+silvery dew like angels' tears. Only crime and despair are sleepless.
+
+To my task. They allow me a lamp. They are not afraid that the
+_madman_ will fire his living tomb and perish in the ruins. Wise men
+of science! Cunning readers of the human heart, your decrees are
+infallible. I am mad. But perhaps some eager individual whose eyes
+shall rest upon these pages will pronounce a different sentence;
+perhaps he may know how to distinguish _crime_ from _madness_.
+
+A vision of my youth comes over me--a happy boyhood--a tree-embowered
+home, babbling brooks, fertile lawns--a father's blessing--a mother's
+kiss that was both joy and blessing--a brother's brave and tender
+friendship--and first love, that dearest, sweetest, holiest charm of
+all. O God! that those things were and are not! It is agony to recall
+them.
+
+Pass, too, the brief Elysian period of wedded love. Julia sleeps well
+in her woodland grave. I was false to her memory.
+
+If my boyhood were happy, my manhood was a melancholy one. A morbid
+temperament, fostered by indulgence, dropped poison even in the cup of
+bliss. I loved and I hated with intensity.
+
+To my widowed home came, after the death of my wife, my fair cousin
+Amy, and my young brother Norman. Both were orphans like myself. Amy
+was a glorious young creature--my antithesis in every respect. She was
+light hearted, I was melancholy; she was beautiful, I ill favored; she
+was young, I past the middle age of life, arrived at that period when
+philosophers falsely tell us that the pulses beat moderately, the
+blood flows temperately, and the heart is tranquil. Fools! the fierce
+passions of the soul belong not to the period of youth or early
+manhood. But let my story illustrate my position.
+
+Amy filled my lonely home with mirth and music. She rose with the
+lark, and carolled as wildly and gayly the livelong day, till, like a
+child tired of play, she sank from very exhaustion on her pure and
+peaceful couch. Norman was her playmate. In early manhood he retained
+the buoyant and elastic spirit of his youth. His was one of those
+natures which never grow old. Have you ever noticed one of those aged
+men, whose fresh cheeks and bright eyes, and ardent sympathy with all
+that is youthful and animated, belie the chronicle of Time? Such might
+have been the age of Norman, had not----But I am anticipating.
+
+Between my cold and exhausted nature and Amy's warm, fresh heart, you
+might have supposed that there could have been no union. Yet she
+loved me warmly and well--loved me as a friend and father. I returned
+her pure and innocent affection with a fierce passion. I longed to
+possess her. The memory of her I had loved and lost was but as the
+breath on the surface of a steel mirror, which heat displaces and
+obliterates.
+
+I was not long in perceiving the exact state of her feelings towards
+me, and with that knowledge came the instantaneous conviction of her
+fondness for my brother, so well calculated to inspire a young girl's
+love. I watched them with the keen and angry eyes of jealousy. I
+followed them in their walks; I played the eavesdropper, and caught up
+the words of their innocent conversation, endeavoring to turn them to
+their disadvantage. By degrees I came to hate Norman; and what equals
+in intensity a brother's hate? It surpasses the hate of woman.
+
+In the insanity of my passion--then I was insane indeed--I sought to
+rival my brother in all those things in which he was my superior. He
+was fond of field sports, and a master of all athletic exercises; he
+was fond of bringing home the trophies of his manly skill and
+displaying them in the eyes of his mistress. He could bring down the
+hawk from the clouds, or arrest the career of the deer in full spring.
+I practised shooting, and failed miserably. His good-natured smile at
+my maladroitness I treasured up as a deadly wrong. While he rode
+fearlessly, I trembled at the thought of a leap. He danced gracefully
+and lightly; my awkward attempts at waltzing made both Amy and her
+lover smile.
+
+But in mental accomplishments I was the superior of Norman; and in my
+capacity of teacher both to Amy and my brother, I had ample
+opportunity of displaying the powers of my mind.
+
+Amy was gifted with quick intelligence; Norman was a dull scholar.
+What pleasure I took in humbling him in the eyes of his mistress! what
+asperity and scorn I threw into my pedantic rebukes! Norman was
+astonished and wounded at my manner. As he was in a good degree
+dependent on me, as he owed to me his nurture, sustenance, and
+training, I took full advantage of our relative position. With
+well-feigned earnestness and sorrow, I exaggerated my pecuniary
+embarrassments, and pointed out to him the necessity of his providing
+for himself, suggesting, with tears in my eyes, that he must adopt
+some servile trade or calling, as his melancholy deficiencies
+precluded the possibility of his success in any other line.
+
+Norman had little care for money. Before the fatal advent of Amy, I
+had supplied him freely with the means of gratifying his tastes; but
+when I found that he expended his allowance in presents for his fair
+cousin, on the plea of hard necessity I restricted his supplies, and
+finally limited him to a pittance, which only a feeble regard for the
+memory of our indulgent mother forced me to grant.
+
+One day--I remember it well--he came to me with joy depicted in his
+countenance, and displayed a recent purchase, the fruits of his forced
+economy. It was a fine rifle; and he urged me and Amy to come and see
+him make a trial of the weapon. I rebuked him for his extravagance
+with a sharpness which brought tears into his eyes--but I consented to
+witness the trial. His first shot centered the target. He loaded
+again, and handed the weapon to me. My bullet was nowhere to be found.
+Norman's second shot lapped his first. Mine was again wide of the
+mark. Norman laughed thoughtlessly. Amy looked grave, for with a
+woman's quickness she had guessed at the truth of my feelings. I cut
+the scene short by summoning both to their studies. That morning
+Norman, whose thoughts were with his rifle, blundered sadly in his
+mathematics, and I rebuked him with more than my usual asperity.
+
+Be it understood that my character stood high with the world. I was
+not undistinguished in public life, and had the rare good fortune to
+conciliate both parties. I was a working man in many charitable and
+philanthropic societies. I was a member of a church, and looked up to
+as a model of piety. As a husband and brother, I was held up as an
+example. I had so large a capital of character, I could deal in crime
+to an unlimited amount.
+
+Some days after the occurrence just related, I was alone with my
+brother in the library.
+
+"Come, Norman," said I, "leave those stupid books. Study is a poor
+business for a young free heart like yours. Leave books for old age
+and the rheumatism."
+
+Norman sprang up joyously. "With all my heart, brother; I'm with you
+for a gallop or a ramble."
+
+"I'm but a poor horseman, and an indifferent walker," I answered.
+"What do you say to a little rifle practice? I should like to try to
+mend my luck."
+
+Norman's rifle was in his hand in a moment, and whistling his favorite
+spaniel, he sallied forth with me into the bright, sunshiny autumnal
+day. We hied to a hollow in the woods where he had set up a target. He
+made the first shot--a splendid one--and then reloaded the rifle.
+
+"Take care," said he, "how you handle the trigger; you know the lock
+is an easy one--I am going to have it altered." And he went forward to
+set the target firmer in the ground, as his shot had shaken it.
+
+He was twenty paces off--his back turned towards me. I lifted the
+rifle, and covered him with both sights. It was the work of a moment.
+My hand touched the trigger. A sharp report followed--the puff of
+blue smoke swirled upward--and my brother fell headlong to the ground.
+The bullet had gone crashing through his skull. He never moved.
+
+A revulsion of feeling instantly followed. All the love of former
+years--all the tender passages of our boyhood--rushed through my brain
+in an instant. I flew to him and raised him from the earth. At sight
+of his pale face, beautiful in death, of his long bright locks dabbled
+in warm blood, I shrieked in despair. A mother bewailing her first
+born could not have felt her loss more keenly, or mourned it more
+wildly. Two or three woodmen rushed to the spot. They saw, as they
+supposed, the story at a glance. One of those accidents so common to
+the careless use of firearms--and I was proverbially unacquainted with
+their use--had produced the catastrophe. We were borne home, for I had
+fainted, and was as cold and lifeless as my victim. What passed during
+a day or two I scarcely remember. Something of strange people in the
+house--of disconnected words of sympathy--of a coffin--a funeral--a
+pilgrimage to the woodland cemetery, where my parents and my wife
+slept--are all the memory records of those days.
+
+Then I resumed the full possession of my senses. Amy's pale face and
+shadowy form were all that were left of _her_--my brother's seat at
+the table and the fireside were empty. But his clothes, his picture,
+his riding cap and spurs, a thousand trifles scattered round, called
+up his dread image every day to the fratricide. His dog left the house
+every morning, and came not back till evening. One day he was found
+dead in the graveyard where his master had been laid.
+
+Amy clung to me with despairing love. She _would_ talk of the lost
+one. She _would_ find every day in me some resemblance to him.
+Perhaps she would even have wedded in me the memory of the departed.
+But that thought was too horrible. I loved her no longer.
+
+Friends came to condole with me. Every word of sympathy was a barbed
+arrow. I could bear it no longer. Conscience stung me not to madness,
+but confession. I repelled sympathy--I solicited denunciation. I told
+them I was my brother's murderer. I forced my confession on every one
+who would hear it. Then it became rumored about that my "fine mind,"
+so they phrased it, had given way beneath the weight of sorrow. I was
+regarded with fear. A physician of my acquaintance made me a friendly
+visit, and shook his head when he heard my story. One day this
+gentleman invited me to ride in his carriage. He left me here. Society
+believes me mad--that I am not, is to me a miracle.
+
+O ye wise ones of the earth,--legislators of the land,--would ye
+avenge the blood that has been spilt by violence on the ruthless
+murderer, would ye inflict punishment upon him, spare and slay him
+not. Take down the gallows, and in its place erect your prisons doubly
+strong, for there, within their ever-during walls of granite, lies the
+hell of the villain who has robbed his brother of his life.
+
+
+
+
+THE WATER CURE.
+
+
+Since the introduction of the limpid waters of Lake Cochituate into
+the goodly city of Boston, the water commissioners have had their
+hands full of business, for the various accidents incidental to the
+commencement of the service, the bursting of pipes, the demands for
+payments of damages, applications for accommodations, &c., have
+rendered the offices no sinecures.
+
+The other day, a poorly but decently-dressed Irish woman entered the
+office of the commissioners on Washington Street, and walked up to the
+head clerk.
+
+"Well, my good woman, what do you want?"
+
+"I want to see the dochthor."
+
+"The doctor! what doctor?"
+
+"How should I know his name, and me niver seeing him?"
+
+"This is the water commissioner's office, my good woman."
+
+"Ah! and sure I've hard of the wonderful cures you've made. If my poor
+Teddy had been alive at this moment, he wouldn't have been dead the
+day."
+
+"O, you want the water brought into your house."
+
+"Sure and I'd like that same."
+
+"Well, where do you live?"
+
+"Broad Strate--near Purchase Strate--it's a small cellar I have to
+myself. I used to take boarders; but it's poorly I am, and I can't
+work as I used to, dochthor."
+
+"Well, haven't you got any water?"
+
+"Divil a bit. I have to take my pail and go to Bread Strate for it."
+
+"And the water doesn't come into your cellar?"
+
+"Sure it comes into me cellar sometimes--but it's as salt as brine;
+it's the say water. I've tried to drink it, but it made me sick. O,
+I'm bad, dochthor, dear; if you think the water'll cure me, tell me
+where I can get it."
+
+"You've got the pipes down your way?"
+
+"I've got the pipes, dochthor, dear--but sorrow a bit of tibaccy. Do
+you think smoking is good for the rheumatiz?"
+
+"There's some mistake here," said the clerk; "what's that you've got
+in your hand?"
+
+"They tould me to bring this bit ov pasteboord here, sure."
+
+The clerk took it. It was a dispensary ticket. He explained the
+mistake, and told the applicant where she should go to obtain medicine
+and advice.
+
+"No, dochthor, dear--it's no mistake--it's the water cure I'm after.
+Sure it's the blissid wather that saves us. There was Pat Murphy that
+brak his leg when he fell with a hod of bricks aff the ladder in Say
+Strate, and they put a bit of wet rag round it, and the next wake he
+was dancing a jig to the chune of Paddy Rafferty, at the ball given by
+the Social Burial Society. And there was my sister Molly's old man,
+Phelim, that was took bad wid the fever--and he drank walth of
+whiskey, but it never did him a bit of good--but when he lift off the
+whiskey, and drank nothin' but wather, he came round in a wake. O,
+dochthor, let me have the blissid water."
+
+"You must see your landlord about that."
+
+"You wouldn't sind me to him, dochthor."
+
+"I'm no doctor, good woman," said the clerk, now thoroughly annoyed,
+"and you've come to the wrong shop, as I told you."
+
+"How do you use the water?" inquired the woman.
+
+"Why, you turn the cock and let it on--in this way," said the clerk,
+letting a little Cochituate into a basin. "There, go along now, and go
+to the doctor's, as I have directed you."
+
+"Sorrow a dochthor I go to but the water dochthor, this blissid day,"
+said the woman, and she left the office.
+
+She repaired to her cellar in no enviable frame of mind. She was sick
+and discouraged, and labored under the impression that she had been to
+the right place, but they had imposed upon her, from an unwillingness
+to aid her. In the mean while, however, during her absence, a service
+pipe had been admitted into her premises by the landlord, though she
+was not aware of the fact. She became acquainted with it soon enough,
+however. The next morning, about four o'clock, as she lay on the
+floor, bemoaning her hard fate and the neglect of the "dochthor," she
+heard a rushing noise. The water pipe had burst, and a stream, like a
+fountain, was now steadily falling into the cellar.
+
+"Bless their hearts!" exclaimed the old woman, "they haven't forgotten
+the poor. The dochthor's sent the water at last--and I must lie still
+and take it."
+
+The first shock of the invading flood was a severe one.
+
+"Millia murther!" she exclaimed, "how could it is! Dochthor, dear,
+couldn't ye have let me had it a thrifle warmer?"
+
+The water continued to pour in, and she was thoroughly soaked. Under
+the belief that the doctor must be somewhere about, superintending the
+operation, but keeping himself out of sight from motives of delicacy,
+she continued to address him.
+
+"There! dochthor, dear. Blessings on ye! That'll do for this time.
+It's could I am! Stop it, dochthor! I've had enough! It's too good for
+the likes of me. I fale betther, dochthor; I won't throuble ye more,
+dochthor; many thanks to ye, dochthor! do ye hear? It's drowning I
+am!"
+
+By this time she had risen, and was standing ankle deep in water. As
+the element was still rising, and the "dochthor" failed to make his
+appearance, the poor woman climbed upon a stool, which was soon
+insulated by the tide. From this she managed to escape in a large
+bread trough, and ferried herself over to a shelf, where she lay in
+comparative safety, watching the rising of the waters.
+
+What would have been her fate, if she had remained alone, it is
+impossible to say. After some time the noise of waters alarmed the
+neighbors; they came to see what was the matter, and finally succeeded
+in rescuing the tenant of the cellar from the threatened deluge. She
+was comfortably cared for by a fellow-countrywoman, and a regular
+dispensary physician sent for. Wonderful to relate, the shock of the
+cold bath had accomplished one of those accidental cures, of which
+many are recorded in the history of rheumatic disorders; and in a few
+days, the sufferer was on her legs again. Furthermore, her sickness
+had proved the means of interesting several benevolent individuals in
+her fate, and by their assistance she was established in a little
+shop, where she is making an honest penny, and laying by something
+against a rainy day. This she all attributes to the "blissid wather,"
+and, in her veneration for the element, has totally abjured whiskey,
+and signed the pledge, an act which gives assurance of her future
+fortune.
+
+
+
+
+THE COSSACK.
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+                    I'd give
+    The Ukraine back again to live
+    It o'er once more, and be a page,
+    The happy page, who was the lord
+    Of one soft heart and his own sword.
+
+                                   MAZEPPA.
+
+Count Willnitz was striding to and fro in the old hall of his
+ancestral castle, in the heart of Lithuania. Through the high and
+narrow Gothic windows the light fell dimly into the cold apartment,
+just glancing on the massive pillars, and bringing into faint relief
+the dusty banners and old trophies of arms that hung along the walls,
+for the wintry day was near its close. The count was a dark-browed,
+stern-featured man. His cold, gray eyes were sunken in their orbits;
+and deep lines were drawn about his mouth, as if some secret grief
+were gnawing at his vitals. And, indeed, good cause existed for his
+sorrow; for, but a few days previously, he had lost his wife. They had
+buried the countess at midnight, as was the custom of the family, in
+the old, ancestral vault of the castle. Vassal and serf had waved
+their torches over the black throat of the grave, and the wail of
+women had gone up through the rocky arches. Still the count had been
+seen to shed no tear. An old warrior, schooled in the stern academy
+of military life, he had early learned to conquer his emotions;
+indeed, there were those who said that nature, in moulding his
+aristocratic form, had forgotten to provide it with a heart; and this
+legend found facile credence with the cowering serfs who owned his
+sway, and the ill-paid soldiers who followed his banner. The last male
+descendant of a long and noble line, he was ill able to maintain the
+splendor of his family name; for his dominions had been "curtailed of
+their fair proportion," and his finances were in a disordered state.
+
+As, like Hardicanute in the old ballad,
+
+    "Stately strode he east the wa',
+    And stately strode he west,"
+
+there entered a figure almost as grim and stern as himself. This was
+an old woman who now filled the office of housekeeper, having
+succeeded to full sway on the death of the countess, the young
+daughter of the count being unable or unwilling to assume any care in
+the household.
+
+"Well, dame," said the count, pausing in his walk, and confronting the
+old woman, "how goes it with you, and how with Alvina? Still sorrowing
+over her mother's death?"
+
+"The tears of a maiden are like the dews in the morning, count,"
+replied the old woman. "The first sunbeam dries them up."
+
+"And what ray of joy can penetrate the dismal hole?" asked the count.
+
+"Do you remember the golden bracelet you gave your lady daughter on
+her wedding day?" inquired the old woman, fixing her keen, gray eye on
+her master's face as she spoke.
+
+"Ay, well," replied the count; "golden gifts are not so easily
+obtained, of late, that I should forget their bestowal But what of the
+bawble?"
+
+"I saw it in the hands of the page Alexis, when he thought himself
+unobserved."
+
+"How!" cried the count, his cheek first reddening, and then becoming
+deadly pale with anger; "is the blood of the gitano asserting its
+claim? Has he begun to pilfer? The dog shall hang from the highest
+battlement of the castle!"
+
+"May it not have been a free gift, sir count?" suggested the hideous
+hag.
+
+"A free gift! What mean you? A love token? Ha! dare you insinuate? And
+yet her blood is----"
+
+"Hush! walls have sometimes ears," said the old woman, looking
+cautiously around. "The gypsy child you picked up in the forest is now
+almost a man; your daughter is a woman. The page is beautiful; they
+have been thrown much together. Alvina is lonely, romantic----"
+
+"Enough, enough!" said the count, stamping his foot. "I will watch
+him. If your suspicions be correct----" He paused, and added between
+his clinched teeth, "I shall know how to punish the daring of the dog.
+Away!"
+
+The old woman hobbled away, rubbing her skinny hands together, and
+chuckling at the prospect of having her hatred of the young countess
+and the page, both of whom had excited her malevolence, speedily
+gratified.
+
+Count Willnitz was on the eve of a journey to Paris with his daughter.
+They were to start in a day or two. This circumstance brought on the
+adventure we shall speedily relate.
+
+Between Alexis, the beautiful page whom the late countess had found
+and fancied among a wandering Bohemian horde, and the high-born
+daughter of the feudal house, an attachment had sprung up, nurtured
+by the isolation in which they lived, and the romantic character and
+youth of the parties. About to be separated from his mistress for a
+long time, the page had implored her to grant him an interview, and
+the lovers met in an apartment joining the suite of rooms appropriated
+to the countess, and where they were little likely to be intruded
+upon. In the innocence of their hearts, they had not dreamed that
+their looks and movements had been watched, and they gave themselves
+up to the happiness of unrestrained converse. But at the moment when
+the joy of Alexis seemed purest and brightest, the gathering thunder
+cloud was overhanging him. At the moment when, sealing his pledge of
+eternal fidelity and memory in absence, he tremblingly printed a first
+and holy kiss upon the blushing cheek of Alvina, an iron hand was laid
+upon his shoulder, and, torn ruthlessly from the spot, he was dashed
+against the wall, while a terrible voice exclaimed,--
+
+"Dog, you shall reckon with me for this!"
+
+Alvina threw herself at her father's feet.
+
+"Pardon--pardon for Alexis, father! I alone am to blame."
+
+"Rise! rise!" thundered the count. "Art thou not sufficiently
+humiliated? Dare to breathe a word in his favor, and it shall go hard
+with thy minion. Punishment thou canst not avert; say but a word, and
+that punishment becomes death; for he is mine, soul and body, to have
+and to hold, to head or to hang--my vassal, my slave! What ho, there!"
+
+As he stamped his foot, a throng of attendants poured into the room.
+
+"Search me that fellow!" cried the count, pointing with his finger to
+Alexis.
+
+A dozen officers' hands examined the person of Alexis, one of them,
+more eager than the rest, discovered a golden bracelet, and brought it
+to the count.
+
+"Ha!" cried the count, as he gazed upon the trinket; "truly do I
+recognize this bawble. Speak, dog! when got'st thou this?"
+
+Alvina was about to speak, and acknowledge that she had bestowed it;
+but before she could utter a syllable, the page exclaimed,--
+
+"I confess all--I stole it."
+
+"Enough!" cried the count. "Daughter, retire to your apartment."
+
+"Father!" cried the wretched girl, wringing her hands.
+
+"Silence, countess!" cried the count, with terrific emphasis.
+"Remember that I wield the power of life and _death_!"
+
+Casting one look of mute agony at the undaunted page, the hapless lady
+retired from the room.
+
+"Zabitzki," said the count, addressing the foremost of his attendants,
+"take me this thieving dog into the court yard, and lay fifty stripes
+upon his back. Then bear him to the dungeon in the eastern turret that
+overlooks the moat; there keep him till you learn my further
+pleasure."
+
+The page was brave as steel. His cheek did not blanch, nor did his
+heart quail, as he heard the dreadful sentence. His lips uttered no
+unmanly entreaty for forgiveness; but, folding his arms, and drawing
+up his elegant figure to its full height, he fixed his eagle eye upon
+the count, with a glance full of bitter hatred and mortal defiance.
+And afterwards, when submitting to the ignominious punishment, with
+his flesh lacerated by the scourge, no groan escaped his lips that
+might reach the listening ear of Alvina. He bore it all with Spartan
+firmness.
+
+Midnight had struck when the young countess, shrouded in a cloak, and
+bearing a key which she had purchased by its weight in gold, ascended
+to the eastern turret, resolved to liberate the prisoner. The door
+swung heavily back on its rusted hinges as she cautiously entered the
+dungeon. Drawing back the slide from a lantern she carried in her left
+hand, she threw its blaze before her, calling out at the same time,
+"Alexis!"
+
+No voice responded.
+
+"They have murdered him!" she murmured, as she rushed forward and
+glanced wildly around her.
+
+The cell was empty. She sprang to the grated window. The bars had been
+sawn through and wrenched apart, with the exception of one, from which
+dangled a rope made of fragments of linen and blanket twisted and
+knotted together. Had Alexis escaped, or perished in the attempt? The
+moat was deep and broad; but the page was a good swimmer and a good
+climber, and his heart was above all proof. There was little doubt in
+the mind of his mistress that fortune had favored him. Sinking on her
+knees, she gave utterance to a fervent thanksgiving to the almighty
+Power which had protected the hapless boy, and then retired to her
+couch to weep in secret. The next day the castle rang with the escape
+of Alexis. Messengers were sent out in pursuit of him in every
+direction; but a fall of snow in the latter part of the night
+prevented the possibility of tracking him, and even the dogs that the
+count put upon the scent were completely baffled. The next day the
+count and his daughter started on their journey.
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+    For time at last sets all things even;
+      And if we do but watch the hour,
+      There never yet was human power
+    Which could evade, if unforgiven,
+      The patient search and vigil long
+      Of him who treasures up a wrong.
+
+                                 BYRON.
+
+
+Years had passed away. The storm of war had rolled over the country,
+and the white eagle of Poland had ceased to wave over an independent
+land. Count Willnitz and his daughter had returned to the old castle;
+the former stern and harsh as ever, the latter completely in the power
+of an inexorable master. She had received no tidings of Alexis, and
+had given him up as lost to her forever. Her father, straightened in
+his circumstances and menaced with ruin, had secured relief and safety
+by pledging his daughter's hand to a wealthy nobleman, Count Radetsky,
+who was now in the castle awaiting the fulfilment of the bargain.
+
+"Go, my child," said the count, with more gentleness than he usually
+manifested in his manner. "You must prepare yourself for the altar."
+
+"Father," said the young girl, earnestly, "does he know that I love
+him not?"
+
+"I have told him all, Alvina."
+
+"And yet he is willing to wed me!" She raised her eyes to heaven,
+rose, and slowly retired to her room.
+
+Louisa, the old woman presented in the first scene of our tale, decked
+the unfortunate girl in her bridal robes, and went with her to the
+chapel, where her father and Radetsky awaited her. An old priest
+mumbled over the ceremony, and joined the hands of the bride and
+bridegroom. The witnesses were few--only the vassals of the count; and
+no attempt at festivity preceded or followed the dismal ceremony.
+
+Alvina retired to her chamber when it was over, promising to join her
+bridegroom at the table in a few moments. The housekeeper accompanied
+her.
+
+"I give you joy, Countess Radetsky," said the old woman.
+
+"I sorely need it," was the bitter answer. "I have sacrificed myself
+to the duty I owe my sole surviving parent."
+
+The old woman rubbed her hands and chuckled as she noted the tone of
+anguish in which these words were uttered.
+
+"I can now speak out," she said. "After long years of silence, the
+seal is removed from my lips. I can now repay your childish scorn, and
+bitter jests, by a bitterer jest than any you have yet dreamed of.
+Countess Radetsky----"
+
+"Spare me that name," said the countess.
+
+"Nay, sweet, it is one you will bear through life," said the hag, "and
+you had better accustom yourself early to its sound. Know, then, my
+sweet lady, that the count, my master, had no claims on your
+obedience."
+
+"How?"
+
+"He is a childless man. He found you an abandoned orphan. Struck with
+your beauty, he brought you to his lady, and, though they loved you
+not, they adopted you, with a view to making your charms useful to
+them when you should have grown up. The count has amply paid himself
+to-day for all the expense and trouble you have put him to. He has
+sold you to an eager suitor for a good round price. Ha, ha!"
+
+"And you knew this, and never told me!" cried the hapless girl.
+
+"I was bound by an oath not to reveal the secret till you were
+married. And I did not love you enough to perjure myself."
+
+"Wretch--miserable wretch!" cried Alvina. "Alas! to what a fate have I
+been doomed! Ah! why did they not let me rather perish than rear me to
+this doom? My heart is given to Alexis--my hand to Radetsky!"
+
+"Go down, sweet, to your bridegroom," said the old woman, who was
+totally deaf to her complaints, "or he will seek you here."
+
+Alvina descended to the banquet hall, uncertain what course to pursue.
+Escape appeared impossible, and what little she knew of Radetsky
+convinced her that he was as pitiless and base as her reputed father.
+She sank into a seat, pale, inanimate, and despairing.
+
+At that moment, ere any one present could say a word, a man, white
+with terror, rushed into the hall, and stammered out,--
+
+"My lord count!"
+
+"What is it, fellow? Speak!"
+
+"The Cossacks!" cried the man. And his information was confirmed by a
+loud hurrah, or rather yell, that rose without.
+
+"Raise the drawbridge!" cried the count. "Curses on it!" he added, "I
+had forgotten that drawbridge and portcullis, every means of defence,
+were gone long ago."
+
+"The Cossacks are in the court yard!" cried a second servant, rushing
+in.
+
+"A thousand curses on the dogs!" cried Radetsky, drawing his sword.
+"Count, look to your child; I will to the court yard with your
+fellows, to do what we may."
+
+By this time the court yard of the castle was filled with uproar and
+turmoil. The clashing of swords was mingled with pistol shots and
+groans, the shouts of triumph and the shrieks of despair. Alvina, left
+alone by her father and Radetsky, trembled not at the prospect of
+approaching death; she felt only joy at her deliverance from the arms
+of a hated bridegroom. But when the crackling of flames was heard,
+when a lurid light streamed up against the window, when wreaths of
+smoke began to pour in from the corridors, the instinct of
+self-preservation awakened in her breast, and almost unconsciously she
+shrieked aloud for help.
+
+Her appeal was answered unexpectedly. A tall, plumed figure dashed
+into the room; a vigorous arm was thrown around her waist, and she was
+lifted from her feet. Her unknown preserver, unimpeded by her light
+weight, passed into the corridor with a fleet step. The grand
+staircase was already on fire, but, drawing his furred cloak closely
+around her, the stranger dashed through the flames, and bore her out
+into the court yard. Almost before she knew it, she was sitting behind
+him on a fiery steed. The rider gave the animal the spur, and he
+dashed through the gate, followed by a hundred wild Cossacks, shouting
+and yelling in the frenzy of their triumph.
+
+Gratitude for an escape from a dreadful death was now banished from
+Alvina's mind by the fear of a worse fate at the hands of these wild
+men.
+
+"You have saved my life," she said to her unknown companion; "do not
+make that life a curse. Take pity on an unfortunate and sorely
+persecuted girl. I have no ransom to pay you; but free me, and you
+will earn my daily prayers and blessings."
+
+"Fear nothing," answered a deep and manly voice. "No harm is intended
+thee; no harm shall befall thee. I swear it on the word of a Cossack
+chieftain."
+
+Alvina was tranquillized at once by the evident sincerity of the
+assurance.
+
+"You are alone now in the world," pursued the stranger "I strove to
+save your bridegroom, but he fell before I reached him."
+
+"I loved him not," answered Alvina, coldly; "I mourn him not."
+
+"You may hate me for the deed," said the stranger, "and I would fain
+escape that woe; but here I vouch it in the face of heaven, Count
+Willnitz fell by my hand. My sabre clove him to the teeth. Years had
+passed, but I could not forget that he once laid the bloody scourge
+upon my back."
+
+"Alexis!" cried Alvina, now recognizing her preserver.
+
+"Yes, dear but unfortunate girl," cried the Cossack leader, turning
+and gazing on the young girl, "I feel that thou art lost to me
+forever. I have slain thy father. Love for thee should have stayed my
+hand; but I had sworn an oath of vengeance, and I kept my vow."
+
+"Alexis," whispered Alvina, "he was not my father. He was my bitterest
+enemy. Nor am I nobly born. Like you, I am an orphan."
+
+"Say you so?" shouted the Cossack. "Then thou art mine--mine and
+forever--joy of my youth--blessing of my manhood!"
+
+"Yes, thine--thine only."
+
+"But bethink thee, sweetest," said the Cossack; "I lead a strange wild
+life."
+
+"I will share it with thee," said Alvina, firmly.
+
+"My companions are rude men."
+
+"I shall see only thee."
+
+"My home is the saddle, my palace the wide steppe."
+
+"With thee, Alexis, I could be happy any where."
+
+"Then be it so," said the Cossack, joyously. "What ho!" he shouted, at
+the top of his ringing, trumpet-like voice. "Comrades, behold your
+hetman's bride!"
+
+From mouth to mouth the words of the Cossack chieftain were repeated,
+and oft as they were uttered wild shouts of joy rose from the bearded
+warriors; for they had loved the gallant Alexis from the moment when,
+a wayworn, famished, and bleeding fugitive, he came among them. They
+galloped round and round the hetman and his fair companion in dizzying
+circles, like the whirling leaves of autumn, firing their pistols,
+brandishing their lances and sabres, and making the welkin ring with
+their terrific shouts. Alvina clung, terrified, to the waist of her
+lover, and he finally silenced the noisy demonstrations by a wave of
+his hand. Then, under his leadership, and in more regular order, the
+formidable band of horsemen pursued their march to those distant
+solitudes where happiness awaited their chieftain and his bride.
+
+
+
+
+MARRIED FOR MONEY.
+
+
+"Jack Cleveland!" exclaimed a fast young man in a drab driving coat
+with innumerable capes, (it was twenty years ago, reader, in the palmy
+days of Tom and Jerry and tandem teams,) as he encountered an equally
+fast young man in Cornhill; "what's the matter with you?"
+
+"It's all over, Frank; I've gone and done it."
+
+"Gone and done what, you spooney?"
+
+"Proposed."
+
+"Proposed what?--a match at billiards, a trot on the milldam, or a
+main of cocks?"
+
+"Pooh!--something more serious," said Cleveland, gravely; "I've
+offered myself."
+
+"Offered yourself? To whom?"
+
+"Widow--Waffles--shy name--never mind--soon changed--one hundred and
+fifty thousand--cool, eh?--age forty--good looks--married for
+money--sheriff would have it--no friends--pockets to let--pays my
+debts--sets me up--house in Beacon Street--carriage--can't help it."
+
+"You're a candidate for Bedlam," said Frank; "I've a great mind to
+order you a strait jacket."
+
+"Be my bridesman--see me off--eh?" asked Cleveland.
+
+"Yes, yes, of course--it will be great fun."
+
+And so it was. Jack Cleveland was united to the widow Waffles in Trinity
+Church, and a smashing wedding it was. The party that followed it was, to
+use Cleveland's own expressions, "a crusher--all Boston invited--all Africa
+waiting--wax lights--champagne--music--ices--pretty girls--a bang-up
+execution."
+
+During the honeymoon Jack Cleveland was all attention to his bride,
+(_il faut soigner les anciennes_,) but he promised to indemnify
+himself by taking full and complete liberty so soon as that
+interesting period of time had been brought to a close. Besides, his
+chains sat lightly at first; for the widow was one of those splendid
+Lady Blessington kind of women, who at forty have just arrived at the
+imperial maturity of their charms, and she was deeply enamoured of the
+young gentleman whom she had chosen for her second partner in the
+matrimonial speculation. Moreover, she paid the debts of the fast
+young man with an exemplary cheerfulness. The only drawback to this
+gush of felicity was that her property was "tied up;" not a cent could
+Cleveland handle except by permission of his lady. Then she kept him
+as close to her apron strings as she did her Blenheim spaniel; she
+required him to obey her call as promptly as her coachman. Galling to
+his pride though it was, he was even forced to go a shopping with her;
+and the elegant Cleveland, who once thought it degrading to carry an
+umbrella, might be seen loaded with bandboxes, or nonchalantly lilting
+bundles of cashmere shawls. The only difference between Mrs.
+Cleveland's husband and her footman was that he received wages; but
+then the footman could leave when he chose, and there the parallel
+ended. Jack's habits had to submit to a rigid and inexorable
+censorship. "Those odious cigars" were prohibited, and then "his list
+of friends" was challenged. Frank Aikin, the bridesman, was tolerated
+the longest of all, and then he was "bluffed off" by Mrs. Cleveland,
+who determined to make her husband a domestic man. It was the old
+story of Hercules and Omphale modernized to suit the times.
+
+Jack began to think the happiest day of his life had made him the most
+miserable dog alive, and, like Sir Peter Teazle, "had lost all comfort
+in the world before his friends had done wishing him joy." But his
+debts were paid--that was a great consolation. Several streets in
+Boston, which were blocked up by creditors, as those of London were to
+the respected Mr. Richard Swiveller, were now opened by the magic wand
+of matrimony. He could exhibit his "Hyperion curls" in Washington
+Street, without any fear of a gentle "reminder" in the shape of a tap
+upon the shoulder.
+
+One morning, however, a lady was ushered up into the splendid drawing
+room in Beacon Street, being announced as Madame St. Germain. She was
+a showy French woman, about the same age as Mrs. Cleveland, and the
+latter waited with some curiosity to learn the object of her visit.
+
+"You are Mrs. Cleveland, I believe," said the French woman.
+
+Mrs. Cleveland bowed in her stateliest manner.
+
+"You have undertaken, I learn, to pay the debts of Monsieur Cleveland,
+contracted before your marriage."
+
+Mrs. Cleveland bowed again.
+
+"I hold a note of his drawn in my favor for a thousand dollars,
+payable at sight, with interest, dated two years back."
+
+"What was it given for?" asked Mrs. Cleveland, with some asperity.
+
+"Pardon me, madam--I cannot state that without the permission of your
+husband."
+
+Mrs. Cleveland applied her hand vigorously to a bell-pull
+communicating with her husband's dressing room.
+
+He made his presence in a splendid _robe de chambre_ and a Turkish cap
+with a gold tassel.
+
+"This woman," said his better half, "says you owe her a thousand
+dollars."
+
+"Monsieur cannot deny it," said the French woman, fixing her keen
+black eyes on the thunder-struck Cleveland.
+
+"It's all right--pay her up!" said Mr. Cleveland.
+
+"Not till I know what the debt was incurred for."
+
+"I can't tell you," said Mr. Cleveland.
+
+"I insist," said Mrs. Cleveland, stamping her foot.
+
+"Then I won't tell--if you die!" said the rebellious Cleveland.
+
+"I shall trouble you, ma'am, to leave my house," said the irritated
+mistress of the mansion. "Not one farthing on that note do you get out
+of me."
+
+"Then I shall be under the unpleasant necessity of taking legal
+measures to obtain the debt," said the French woman, rising. "Mr.
+Cleveland, I wish you very much happiness with your amiable lady."
+
+There was a storm--a regular equinoctial gale--after the departure of
+Madame St. Germain. Mrs. Cleveland was very provoking, and Mr.
+Cleveland indulged in epithets unbecoming a scholar and a gentleman.
+That night the "happy couple" luxuriated in separate apartments. The
+next day came a lawyer's letter, then a civil process, and finally Mr.
+John Cleveland was marched off to Leverett Street jail, where, after
+giving due notice to his creditor and obtaining bail, he was allowed
+the benefit of the "limits," with the privilege of "swearing out," at
+the expiration of thirty days.
+
+Jack engaged lodging at a little tavern, on the limits, where he found
+Frank Aikin, who had run through _his_ "pile," and a few kindred
+spirits of the fast young men school enacting the part of "gentlemen
+in difficulties." Cigars, champagne, and cards were ordered, and Jack
+became a fast young man once more. Towards the small hours of the
+morning, he forgot having married a widow, and thinking himself a
+bachelor, he proposed the health of a certain Miss Julia Vining, which
+was drank with three times three. The next morning, he sat down to a
+capital breakfast, with more fast young men, and for a whole week he
+enjoyed himself _en garēon_, without once thinking of the forsaken
+Dido in Beacon Street.
+
+One day, however, when he had exhausted his cash and credit, and a
+racking headache induced him to regret the speed of his late life, a
+carriage rattled up to the door of the tavern, his own door was
+shortly after thrown open, and a lady flung herself into his arms.
+Mrs. Cleveland looked really fascinating.
+
+"Come home, my dear Jack," said she, bursting into tears; "I've been
+so lonely without you."
+
+"Not so fast, Mrs. Cleveland," said the young gentleman, as he
+perceived his power. "I'm very happy where I am. I can't go back
+except on certain conditions."
+
+"Name them, dearest."
+
+"I'm to smoke as many cigars as I please."
+
+"Granted."
+
+"Not to carry any more bandboxes or tomcats."
+
+"Granted."
+
+"To give a dinner party to the 'boys' once in a while."
+
+"Granted--granted. And I've paid your note, and opened a cash account
+for you at the bank."
+
+"You are an angel," said Cleveland; "and now it's all over--that note
+was given Madame St. Germain for tuition of a young girl, Miss Julia
+Vining, whom I educated with the romantic notion of making her my
+wife, when she should arrive at a suitable age, at which period she
+ran off with a one-eyed French fiddler, and is now taking in sewing at
+191st Street, New York."
+
+The happy pair went home in their carriage, and we never heard of any
+differences between them. Mrs. Cleveland wears very well, and Mr.
+Cleveland is now an alderman, remarkable chiefly for the ponderosity
+of his person, and the heaviness of his municipal harangues. "Sich is
+life."
+
+
+
+
+THE EMIGRANT SHIP.
+
+
+On a summer's day, some years ago, business brought me to one of the
+wharves of this city, at the moment when a ship from Liverpool had
+just arrived, with some two hundred and fifty emigrants, men, women,
+and children, chiefly Irish. Much as I had heard and read of the
+condition of many of the poor passengers, I never fully realized their
+distresses until I personally witnessed them.
+
+Under the most favorable circumstances, the removal of families from
+the land of their birth is attended by many painful incidents. About
+to embark upon a long and perilous voyage, to seek the untried
+hospitalities of a stranger soil, the old landmarks and associations
+which the heartstrings grasp with a cruel tenacity are viewed through
+the mist of tears and agony.
+
+The old church--the weather-worn homestead--the ancient school house,
+the familiar play ground, and more sadly dear than all, the green
+graveyard, offer a mute appeal "more eloquent than words." But when to
+these afflictions of the heart are added the pangs of physical
+suffering and privation; when emigrants, in embarking, embark their
+all in the expenses of the voyage, and have no hope, even for
+existence, but in a happy combination of possible chances; when near
+and dear ones must be left behind, certainly to suffer, and probably
+to die,--the pangs of separation embrace all that can be conceived of
+agony and distress.
+
+The emigrant ship whose arrival we witnessed had been seventy odd days
+from port to port. Her passengers were of the poorest class. Their
+means had been nearly exhausted in going from Dublin to Liverpool, and
+in endeavors to obtain work in the latter city, previous to bidding a
+reluctant but eternal farewell to the old country. They came on board
+worn out--wan--the very life of many dependent on a speedy passage
+over the Atlantic. In this they were disappointed. The ship had
+encountered a succession of terrific gales; it had leaked badly, and
+they had been confined, a great part of the voyage, to their narrow
+quarters between decks, herded together in a noisome and pestilential
+atmosphere, littered with damp straw, and full of filth.
+
+What marvel that disease and death invaded their ranks? One after
+another, many died and were launched into the deep sea. The ship
+entered Fayal to refit, and there that clime of endless summer proved
+to the emigrants more fatal than the blast of the upas-poisoned valley
+of Java. The delicious oranges, and the mild Pico wine, used liberally
+by the passengers, sowed the seeds of death yet more freely among
+their ranks. On the passage from Fayal, the mortality was dreadful,
+but at length, decimated and diseased, the band of emigrants arrived
+at Boston.
+
+It was a summer's day--but no cheering ray of light fell upon the
+spires of the city. The sky was dark and gloomy; the bay spread out
+before the eye like a huge sheet of lead, and the clouds swept low and
+heavily over the hills and house tops.
+
+After the vessel was moored, all the passengers who were capable of
+moving, or of being moved, came up or were brought up on deck. We
+scanned their wan and haggard features with curiosity and pity.
+
+Here was the wreck of an athletic man. His eyes, deep-sunken in their
+orbits, were nearly as glassy as those of a corpse; his poor attire
+hung loosely on his square shoulders. His matted beard rendered his
+sickly, greenish countenance yet more wan and livid. He crawled about
+the deck _alone_--his wife and five children, they for whom he had
+lived and struggled, for whose sake he was making a last desperate
+exertion, had all been taken from him on the voyage. We addressed him
+some questions touching his family.
+
+"They are all gone," said he, "the wife and the childer. The last
+one--the babby--died this mornin'--she lies below. They're best off
+where they are."
+
+In another place sat a shivering, ragged man, the picture of despair.
+A few of his countrymen, who had gathered round him, offered him some
+food. He might have taken it eagerly some days before. _Now_ he gazed
+on vacancy, without noticing their efforts to induce him to take some
+nourishment. Still they persevered, and one held a cooling glass of
+lemonade to his parched lips.
+
+Seated on the after hatchway was a little boy who had that morning
+lost both his parents. He shed no tear. Familiarity with misery had
+deprived him of that sad consolation.
+
+We passed on to a group of Irishmen gathered round an old gray-haired
+man lying at length upon the forward deck. One of them was kneeling
+beside him.
+
+"Father, father!" said he, earnestly, "rouse up, for the love of
+Heaven. See here--I've brought ye some porridge--tak a sup ov it--it
+will give ye heart and life."
+
+"Sorrow a bit of life's left in the old man any how. Lave him alone,
+Jamie."
+
+"Lift him ashore," said the mate--"he wants air."
+
+The dying man was carefully lifted on the wharf, and laid down upon a
+plank. His features changed rapidly during the transit. His head now
+fell back--the pallid hue of death invaded his lips--his lower jaw
+relaxed--the staring eyeballs had no speculation in them--a slight
+shudder convulsed his frame. The son kneeled beside him; closed his
+eyes--it was all over. And there, in the open air, with no covering to
+shield his reverend locks from the falling rain, passed away the soul
+of the old man from its earthly tabernacle.
+
+The hospital cart arrived. Busy agents lifted into it, with
+professional _sang froid_, crippled age and tottering childhood. But
+all the spectators of this harrowing scene testified, by their
+expressions, sympathy and sorrow, one low-browed ruffian alone
+excepted.
+
+"Serves 'em right ----d ----n 'em!" said he, savagely. "Why don't they
+stay at home in their own country, and not come here to take the bread
+out of honest people's mouths?"
+
+Honest, quotha? If ever "flat burglary" and "treason dire" were
+written on a man's face, it stood out in staring capitals upon that
+Cain-like brow.
+
+But there were lights as well as shadows to the picture. Out of that
+grim den of death, out of that floating lazar house, there came a few
+blooming maidens and stalwart youths, like fair flowers springing from
+the rankness of a charnel. Their sorrows were but for the misfortunes
+of others; and even these were a while forgotten in the joy of meeting
+near and dear relatives, and old friends upon the shore of the
+promised land. They went their way rejoicing, and with them passed the
+solitary ray of sunshine that streamed athwart the dark horrors of the
+emigrant ship, like the wandering pencil of light that sometimes
+visits the condemned cell of a prison.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST OF THE STAGE COACHES.
+
+A FRAGMENT OF A CLUB-ROOM CONVERSATION.
+
+
+"Did you ever," said the one-eyed gentleman, fixing his single sound
+optic upon us with an intensity which made it glow like one of the
+coals in the grate before us, "did you ever hear how I met with this
+misfortune?"
+
+"What misfortune, sir?"
+
+"The misfortune which made a Cyclops of me--the loss of my left eye."
+
+"Never, sir. Pray how was it?"
+
+"Put out by the cinder of a locomotive," growled the one-eyed
+gentleman, seizing the poker and stirring up the fire viciously. "Bad
+things these railroads, sir," he added, when he had demolished a huge
+fragment of sea coal. "Only last week--little boy playing on bank in
+his father's garden--little dog ran on the track--boy went down to
+call him off--express train came along--forty-five miles an hour and
+no stoppages--ran over boy and dog--agonized parents sought for the
+remains--nothing found except one shoe, the buckle of his hatband, and
+brass collar of the dog."
+
+"Extraordinary!"
+
+"No, sir; not extraordinary," said the one-eyed gentleman. "I maintain
+it's a common occurrence. Sir, I keep a railroad journal at home, as
+large as a family Bible. It is filled with brief accounts--_brief_,
+mind you--of railroad accidents. Next year I shall have to buy another
+book."
+
+"Then you are a decided enemy of railroads?"
+
+"Decided!" said the one-eyed gentleman. "Their prevalence and extent
+is a proof that the age is lapsing into barbarism. Ah! you remember
+the stage coaches?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Well, sir," said the one-eyed gentleman, warmly, "travelling was
+travelling in those days; sir, it was a pleasure. The coaches were fast
+enough for any reasonable man; ten miles an hour, including stoppages.
+Ah!" he added, smacking his lips, "what a fine thing it was to start on
+a journey of a glorious October morning, when every thing looked bright
+and smiling! You mounted to the box or the roof, well wrapped up in your
+greatcoat and shawl, with your trunk safely strapped upon the rack
+behind. The driver was a man of substance--solid, of a gravity tempered
+with humor, a giant in a brown box-coat, with gray hat and mittens. How
+he handled the ribbons and took his cattle through Elm Street! How the
+long bridges rumbled and thundered as we bowled along away, away into
+the country! The country! it _was_ the country then; inhabited by
+country people, not peopled with a mixed society of farmers and cits,
+six o' one and half a dozen of t'other. How nicely we glided along!
+There were birds, in those days, singing by the roadside; now the
+confounded locomotives have scared them all off. By and by we came to a
+tavern. Out rushed a troop of hostlers and keepers skilled in horse
+flesh. The cattle were just allowed to wet their lips, water was dashed
+on their legs and feet, and then, after the parcels and papers had been
+tossed off, away we went again. Five miles farther on, we pulled up to
+change. The fresh team was led out, bright, shining, and glittering, in
+tip-top condition. The driver descended to stretch his legs and
+personally superintend the putting to of the fresh horses. When he
+mounted the box again, his experienced eye glanced rapidly at the team,
+and then, with an 'all right--let 'em go!' we were on the road once
+more."
+
+The one-eyed gentleman paused, after this flow of eloquence, and gazed
+pensively into the midst of the glowing coals. After a few moments'
+silence, he resumed:--
+
+"Rather a singular occurrence happened to me last year on the 14th of
+October, about half past twelve, P.M. I am thus particular about
+dates, because this event is one that forms an era in my life. I had
+been driving across the country in my gig, to visit a friend who had
+recently moved upon a farm. The localities were new to me, and the
+roads blind. Guideboards were few, and human beings fewer. In short, I
+got astray, and hadn't the remotest conception of what part of the
+country I was in. It was a cold, cloudy day, with a sort of drizzling
+Scotch mist that wet one to the bone. I plodded along in hopes of soon
+reaching some tavern, where I could bait my horse and get some dinner
+for myself. All at once, at a turn of the road, just after having
+crossed the Concord River, I perceived a stage coach coming towards
+me. I had heard no noise of wheels or horses' feet; but there it was.
+The road was narrow, and the coachman pulled up to let me work my way
+past. The vehicle was a queer old affair, that looked as if it had
+been dug out of some antediluvian stable yard. The curtains were brown
+with age and dust, and riddled with holes; the body was bare and
+worm-eaten, and the springs perfectly green with mould. The horses
+were thin and lank, and the harness in as sorry a condition as the
+coach. The driver's clothes, which were very old fashioned, hung about
+him in loose folds, and he gazed upon me with a strange, stony stare
+that was absolutely appalling; yet his lips unclosed as I worked past
+him, and he exclaimed in a harsh, croaking voice, 'One eye!' Thereupon
+two or three queer people poked their heads out of the coach window.
+There was one old woman with false teeth, in an unpleasant state of
+decay, and a voice like a parrot. 'One eye!' she shrieked, as she
+gazed on me with an eye as stony as the coachman. A pale, simpering
+miss smirked in my face, and cried, 'One eye!' and a military
+gentleman, with a ghastly frown, hissed forth the same words. I should
+have scrutinized the queer coach and the queer people closer, had not
+my horse--my good, old, quiet, steady horse--seized the bit in his
+mouth and started off at a dead run. I tried to saw him up, but it was
+no use; he ran for a couple of miles, and did not slacken till he had
+brought me to the door of an old, decayed tavern, where I resigned him
+to the charge of a lame hostler, and made my way into the house in
+search of the landlord. I found him at last--a poor, poverty-pinched
+man, who had been ruined by the railroad. He complained bitterly of
+the hard times. 'But,' said I, 'you must have some custom; the stage
+coaches----' 'Bless your soul,' replied he, 'there hasn't been a coach
+on this road for fifteen years.' 'What do you, mean?' said I; 'I met a
+coach and passengers two miles back, near the river.' The landlord
+turned pale. 'What day is this?' he asked. 'The 14th of October.' 'The
+14th of October!' cried the landlord; 'I remember that date well. That
+day, fifteen years since, was the last trip of the old mail coach. It
+left here, with Bill Snaffle, the driver, and three insides, a
+military man, an old woman, and a young lady. They were never heard of
+after they left here. Their trail was followed as far as the bridge.
+It is supposed that the horses got frightened at something, and backed
+off into the Concord River. But I have heard,' added the landlord, in
+a hollow whisper, 'that on this anniversary the ghost of that coach
+and company may be seen upon the turnpike. More, I will tell you, in
+confidence, that I have seen them myself.' After this I was convinced
+that I had been favored--if favor it may be called--with a spiritual
+visitation."
+
+The one-eyed gentleman looked me full in the face, as if to say, "What
+do you think of it?" It was useless to argue with him; so I only shook
+my head. He nodded his in a very mysterious manner, and fell to poking
+the fire with redoubled activity; and I bade him good night, and left
+him to pursue his occupation.
+
+
+
+
+THE SEXTON OF ST. HUBERT'S.
+
+A STORY OF OLD ENGLAND.
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE QUEEN OF THE MAY.
+
+
+In a remote region in the northern part of England, the people still
+cherish an attachment to old usages and sports, and hold the
+observance of Christmas, May-day, and other time-honored festivals, a
+sacred obligation. One village, in particular, is famous for its
+May-day sports, which, as the curate is a little withered antiquary,
+are conducted with great ceremony and fidelity to old authorities. The
+May-pole is brought home, garlanded, and decked with ribbons, to the
+sound of pipe and tabor, surrounded by a laughing throng of sturdy
+yeomen and buxom maidens. It is erected on the great green, in the
+centre of the village, to the universal delight of old and young, and
+the dancing commences round it with high glee. The scene presented is
+like that described by Goldsmith,--
+
+    "Where all the village train, from labor free,
+    Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree;
+    While many a pastime circled in the shade,
+    The young contending as the old surveyed;
+    And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground,
+    And sleights of art and feats of strength went round."
+
+It was a delightful spring, that of 17--, and a softer sky never
+before smiled upon the village-green of Redwood, upon the 1st of May;
+and among the merry damsels dancing round the May-pole, no heart was
+happier, and no step was lighter, than that of Margaret Ellis, who,
+for the first time, joined in the sports of the day. She was a child
+of May, and this was the sixteenth anniversary of her birthday. A gay
+brunette, her sparkling eyes had all the fire and the mirth of the
+sunny and passionate south, while no lighter or more delicate foot
+than hers could have been found upon the merry green. A rich bloom
+mantled on her cheek, her lips were fresh and red, and her regular
+teeth, displayed as she panted in the dance, were white as unsullied
+snow. A tight little bodice, and a milk-white frock, set off the
+charms of her person in the best manner. Then there was an air of
+gayety and innocence about her which delighted every good-natured
+observer; and all the villagers allowed that Margaret Ellis deserved
+the tiara of flowers that crowned her Queen of the May. She blushed at
+the tokens of good will and approbation, as she placed her hand in
+that of a young and rustic stranger, who led her off triumphantly at
+the head of the dancers. The youth was fair-haired, ruddy, athletic,
+and active; and those who saw them in the dance could not help
+acknowledging that they were a lovely pair.
+
+There was one who regarded them with eyes of jealous displeasure. This
+was a man of forty, of a handsome face and figure, but swarthy,
+dark-haired, and melancholy. He bent over the seat upon which old
+Farmer Ellis and his dame were seated, and whispered, "Do you know the
+young man who is dancing with your daughter?"
+
+"Ah! he be a right good young mon, I warrant me," said the dame. "He
+do come fra the next county. William Evans, he calls himself."
+
+"He calls himself!--umph!" muttered the person who had first spoken.
+"But what do others call him? Who knows any thing about him? Who can
+vouch for his character? I would not suffer a daughter of mine to be
+gadding about, and dancing with a stranger."
+
+"Whoy, for the matter o' that," said Farmer Ellis, "you were nought
+but a stranger yourself, when you first did come to see us, Maister
+Pembroke. We didn't know you were the sexton of St. Hubert's. And yet
+you turned out a right good friend to me, mon; for when ye first knew
+me, things were deadly cross wi' me. What wi' the rot among my sheep,
+and the murrain among my cattle, I were all but ruined. Short crops
+and a hard landlord are bitter bad things. But you were the salvation
+of me, and I'll work my fingers to the bone, but what you shall have
+your own again, John Pembroke."
+
+"There is one way in which you can liquidate your debt."
+
+"Name it, Maister Pembroke," said the farmer, eagerly.
+
+"No matter," muttered the sexton, and a hollow sigh escaped his lips.
+"I had an idea, but it is gone. Touching the stranger, in whom you
+both repose such confidence. In what manner does he earn his daily
+bread?"
+
+"Whoy," said the farmer, "in the way that Adam did, mon. He do say he
+is a gardener."
+
+"A likely tale!" ejaculated the sexton. "Look at his hands. Why, his
+fingers are delicate and white. Your gardener has horny fingers, and a
+palm of iron."
+
+"Dang it! so they be!" cried Ellis. "Well, I never noticed that afore.
+Whoy, dame, he may be an impostor And though he be so cruel koind,
+and deadly fond of the girl, now, he may forsake--may----"
+
+"Look at, them, now," said the sexton of St. Hubert's. "See how he
+grasps her hand; and how, as he whispers his soft, insinuating
+flattery in her ear, she blushes and smiles upon him. Damnation!"
+
+"Whoy, John!" exclaimed Dame Ellis; "what would the rector say to hear
+thee? Thou art surely distraught."
+
+And now, as Margaret, flushed and panting with exercise, was suffering
+her partner to lead her towards her seat, her father beckoned her to
+approach.
+
+"Come hither, girl," said he. The smiling maiden obeyed. "Margaret,"
+said the old man, "thou knowest I love thee. I ha' always been cruel
+koind to thee, and so has thy mother, girl. If any harm was to happen
+to thee, I should take it desperately to heart. I should, indeed. It
+would kill thy father, Margaret. Now, William Evans may be a good
+young man, and he may not; but we must beware of strangers. Wait till
+we have tried him a bit. Many a handsome nag turns out a vicious one.
+So it be my pleasure, and the dame's, that thou dost not dance any
+more to-day wi' William Evans; and even if he speaks to thee, be a
+little offish loike to him."
+
+The poor girl sighed. "I hope, sir," said she, glancing at the sexton,
+"that no person possessed of an unhappy and suspicious temper has been
+prejudicing you against poor William. I hope Mr. Pembroke----"
+
+"Hush, girl--hush!" cried Ellis. "Doant thee say a word against that
+man. But for him we mought all ha' been beggars. Do as I bid thee,
+girl, and doan't thee ask no questions; for you know I've got no head
+to argury."
+
+Margaret slowly sank into a seat. The sexton leaned over her, and
+addressed to her some commonplace remarks, to all of which she
+returned answer in monosyllables. When the music recommenced a lively
+air, William advanced, and solicited her hand for the next dance. Poor
+Margaret bent her eyes upon the ground, and falteringly refused.
+Thinking he could not have heard her rightly, Evans again asked the
+question, and received, a second time, the same answer. For a moment
+his countenance expressed astonishment; the next there was a look of
+grief, and then his lip curled, and drawing himself up proudly, he
+stalked away. He was followed by the sexton of St. Hubert's, who
+overtook him, and laid his hand upon his shoulder. William turned
+fiercely, and endeavored to shake off the grasp.
+
+"Young man," said the sexton, "you are discovered!"
+
+"Discovered!" exclaimed William. "What do you mean?"
+
+"You understand me," said the sexton; "your manners, your language,
+your figure, contradict the story you have fabricated. Margaret shall
+never be your victim. With her your boasted arts are valueless!"
+
+"If you were a gentleman----" said William.
+
+"Ha, ha!" laughed the sexton of St. Hubert's. "Is this the resentment
+of a rustic? Go, young man; you have exposed yourself."
+
+"Remove your hand!" said the young man; "and think it unusual
+forbearance on my part, that I do not chastise you as you deserve. We
+shall meet again, and with a sterner greeting." So they parted.
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE GYPSY CAMP.
+
+
+The clear, unshadowed sun, as it declined towards the western verge of
+the horizon, shone brightly upon the gypsy encampment, a few miles
+from Redwood. The wandering tribe had displayed their proverbial
+taste, in their selection of a spot wherein to pitch their tents. A
+green and glossy pasture was partly surrounded by a luxuriant forest
+of ancient oaks, which supplied the crew with firewood; while a
+beautiful and clear stream, the pride and boast of the county, curved
+into the waving grass land, and kept it ever fresh and verdant. Here
+and there its silvery bosom reflected a small tent, or the figure of
+an idler, bending over the bank, with fishing rod in hand, a perfect
+picture of patience and philosophy. Half a dozen tents served to
+accommodate the gregarious fraternity; and though the sail cloths
+which composed them were worn and weather-beaten, yet their brown hues
+harmonized well with the rich tints of the landscape, and showed
+distinct enough against the dark background of the forest. As the
+shades of the evening darkened the ancestral trees, a line of fire was
+lit up, the flames of which glared ruddily against the huge trunks of
+the woodland, and played and flickered in the rippling stream. Huge
+kettles, suspended on forked sticks, were beginning to send up a
+savory steam; and several swarthy beings, lounging round the fires,
+occasionally fed them, or basking in the blaze, watched the bubbling
+of the caldrons with intense anxiety. Even the king of the gypsies
+observed the preparations for supper with an eager air, which ill
+assorted with his lofty forehead and reverend white beard. Every
+moment some stroller would come in with a pilfered fowl, or a basket
+of eggs; and each addition to the feast was hailed with shouts of
+applause by the swarthy crew.
+
+Somewhat remote from this scene of bustle and noise, at the door of a
+small tent, sat two female gypsies. One of these was the queen, an
+aged crone, who, though bent with age and care, and wrinkled by time
+and the indulgence of vehement passions, yet prided herself upon the
+unfrosted darkness of her raven tresses, which fell over her shoulders
+in profusion. A turban of rich crimson cloth crowned her head, and a
+shawl of the same color and material was wrapped around her shoulders.
+Her skinny hands were supported by a silver-headed staff, which was
+covered with quaint carvings. Her gown was of dark serge, and her
+shoes were pointed, and turned up in the Oriental fashion, and
+garnished with broad silver buckles. She sat apart, and the rising
+moon shone down upon her dusky figure, and threw her wild features
+into bold relief. At her feet sat a beautiful girl, with dark Grecian
+features, and a full, voluptuous form. She, too, had long, flowing,
+raven tresses, into which were twisted strings of pearl. From a
+necklace of topaz hung a little silver crucifix, resting upon a full
+and heaving bust, to which was fitted a close jacket, made of
+deep-blue cloth, and fastened together with loops and silver buttons.
+Her soft and round arms were naked, save at the shoulders, and her
+wrists were encircled with tarnished gold bracelets. Her white
+petticoat was short enough to display a well-turned ankle, and a small
+foot, encased in neat black slippers. Her features, dark and
+sun-browned, showed to more advantage in the pale moonlight than they
+would have done in the broad blaze of day. The gypsy girl sat at the
+feet of the queen, and looking up in her face, listened attentively to
+her discourse.
+
+"Myra," said the queen of the gypsies, "do you love him yet?"
+
+"Love him!" repeated the girl. "Yes, mother--passionately. To obtain
+his hand--his heart, I would peril every thing!"
+
+"Strange and mysterious passion!" said the crone, "which defies reason
+and law. Many years agone I loved with the same intense devotion. The
+same fiery blood courses in your veins; the same contempt of
+obstacles. Yet the man I loved was nobler and prouder than the sexton
+of St. Hubert's. We lived among the Gitanos of Spain, when we were
+wedded. Five sons I bore to the partner of my cares. Where are they?
+One followed his father to the gibbet; a second hurled defiance at his
+enemies, as he perished in the flames of an _auto da fe_; the third
+and fourth died in the galleys; the fifth--the fifth, Myra--my best
+beloved, my brave, my beautiful, received his death wound in defending
+me from outrage. _You are his child!_ Judge, then, how I love you, my
+daughter. You love the sexton of St. Hubert's--he shall marry you."
+
+"Ah, mother!" said the gypsy girl, "I fear me he is lost. He is the
+accepted lover of Margaret Ellis. She did love a young stranger; but
+the sexton of St. Hubert's has Farmer Ellis in his debt, and
+threatened to throw him in jail, if the latter did not grant him the
+hand of his daughter. He has done so, and the wedding day is fixed.
+Alas! before he saw his May-day queen, he loved me, and promised to
+marry me. Often beneath that very moon, mother, has he sat and told me
+his love. When I smiled at his protestations, he would speak of his
+wealth, and tell me of hidden stores of gold, for a thrifty and a
+rich man is the sexton of St. Hubert's. I do not love him less because
+he does not frown upon our wandering tribe, but has lax principles
+that suit the fiery passions of our race. I know not in what consists
+the art by which he won me; it is enough for me to know that I am
+devoted to him. Alas! that knowledge is too much, since he has owned
+the fascination of the Queen of the May."
+
+"Enough said, daughter!" cried the crone. "Before the altar he shall
+marry you. He shall love you better than he loves the May queen. What
+are her attractions when compared to yours? Praise from the old is
+little to the young; yet let me say that I have wandered east and
+west, north and south; have seen the Georgian and Sicilian maids, have
+seen the dark-haired girls of Naples, and the donnas of Madrid; yet
+never did these aged eyes rest on a finer form or face than yours, my
+daughter."
+
+The gypsy girl smiled.
+
+"Ay," said the old woman, "now you look lovelier than ever. That smile
+is like a sunbeam to my heart; it thaws the frost of age. Believe me,
+Myra, the sexton of St. Hubert's shall adore you."
+
+"Then you must have love charms," said the gypsy girl, blushing.
+
+"Love charms I have," said the old woman, "and those of wondrous
+potency. We are a favored race, Myra. Descended from the old
+Egyptians, we inherit their mysterious learning. To a few among us,
+the queens and magi of our tribes, there has come down a knowledge of
+charms and medicine, and some of the secrets of astrology. Go, Myra;
+leave me. I will provide for your peace. Yes, yes, I have love charms.
+I have them!"
+
+The gypsy girl smiled, rose, kissed the hand of her grandmother, and
+then bounded away like a fawn.
+
+"Poor child!" muttered the old woman, when alone; "she must not die of
+a broken heart. Love charms, did she say! Yes--I have them for fools;
+but the love charm I shall use to give her joy is poison. The
+betrothed bride of the sexton of St. Hubert's lies ill of an unknown
+malady. The physicians cannot do her good, for she is sick of a
+wounded heart. To-night the sexton of St. Hubert's, who has faith in
+my skill, comes to seek a remedy. He shall have one. Does he think to
+spurn the poor gypsy girl? He is mistaken. He plighted his troth to
+her in the silence of the forest; they broke a piece of gold across a
+running brook; they swore truth and fidelity! One has broken the oath,
+but it shall be sworn anew. None but Myra shall wed the sexton of St.
+Hubert's!"
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+RETRIBUTION.
+
+
+It was a fierce and stormy night. The wind howled around the houses of
+Redwood, and wherever a shutter had lost its fastening, it flapped to
+and fro with a frequent and alarming sound. The rain, too, descended
+in torrents, and flooded the streets of the village, while ever and
+anon heavy peals of thunder and vivid flashes of lightning increased
+the terror of the night. In the house of Farmer Ellis a few persons
+were assembled to witness the bridal of the sexton of St. Hubert's.
+The bridegroom was as one excited by wine, for there was a wild
+radiance in his eyes and an unwonted smile upon his lips, and he
+occasionally gave utterance to some jest, and when it failed of
+producing the expected mirth, his own laugh sounded hollow and
+strange. The bride, too, so pearly pale, in her white dress, with
+white roses in her hair, seemed like the bride of Corinth in the
+German tale. A few of the guests, huddled anxiously together,
+whispered among themselves, "It is a churchyard bridal."
+
+Still the cake and wine went round, and the strange laugh of the
+bridegroom was more frequent. The night wore on, and the arrival of
+the clergyman was prolonged far beyond the expected time. At length he
+came, and the ceremony was about to take place, when the bride
+suddenly sank in the arms of her companions. They raised her, and
+applied the usual remedies resorted to in cases of fainting, but the
+vital spark itself had fled.
+
+In the depth of a stormy night, the sexton of St. Hubert's sought the
+queen of the gypsies. He was mounted on an active horse, and
+accompanied by the sheriff of the county and a few resolute men, well
+mounted and armed to the teeth. As he approached the river which
+bounded the gypsy camp upon one side, the sexton looked in vain for a
+guiding light--no fires blazed upon the green, no hidden glare was
+reflected in the mirror of the stream. Still he spurred on his horse,
+and followed hard by his companions, gallantly forded the stream and
+crossed the open meadows. The tents had all been struck, and no sound
+was heard in that deserted place, except the rushing of the boisterous
+wind and the tinkling of the raindrops as they fell upon the river.
+The parties reined up their horses, and the sexton and the sheriff
+held a brief conference together. While they were yet conversing, a
+broad and brilliant blaze shot up from the centre of the forest,
+illuminating a wide and well-trodden path which led directly to the
+light. The first flash of radiance dazzled the eyes of the horsemen,
+but when they became accustomed to the glare, they beheld distinctly
+several wild forms lounging around the fire, evidently unconscious of
+the approach of danger.
+
+"Now is our time, my lads," said the sheriff, in a low tone. "Forward,
+and we shall have them all."
+
+Every rowel was instantly employed, and the party pushed forward at a
+gallop. Bowing their heads to avoid the swaying branches, they bent
+over their horses' necks in the intense ardor of pursuit. The sheriff
+and the sexton rode side by side, and had nearly attained their
+object, when their horses fell suddenly, and threw them to the ground
+with violence. In fine, the whole party had stumbled upon pitfalls dug
+for them, and not a horseman of the troop escaped an overthrow. While
+they were rolling on the ground, entangled in the stirrups, and
+receiving severe injuries from the struggling horses, a shrill cry
+arose from the depth of the woods, and a dozen stout ruffians set upon
+them, seized, and pinioned them. The sexton and the sheriff were
+conducted by two of the gang to the presence of the gypsy queen, who
+sat upon a rude form raised upon the trunk of a huge oak, and
+sheltered by an ample awning of oiled cloth. The sheriff's followers
+were borne away in another direction. The wild woman and her wilder
+attendants were perfectly distinct in the ruddy firelight, though the
+whole scene had, to the eyes of the victims, the appearance of a
+vision of night.
+
+"Well, sirs," said the queen, "you came to see us, and you have found
+us. Have you not some message for us? You myrmidon of the law, have
+you no greeting for the queen of the gypsies?"
+
+The sheriff looked at the queen and then at her attendants. They were
+fierce-looking, unshorn fellows, with butchers' knives stuck in their
+rope girdles, and seemed but to await a nod from her tawny majesty to
+employ their formidable weapons.
+
+"Have you nothing for us?" asked the dark lady.
+
+"Nothing," said the sheriff, faintly.
+
+"Ho, ho!" laughed the wrinkled crone. "The man of law is forgetful.
+You, _Dommerar_, search him, and see if he speaks the truth."
+
+A sandy-haired little fellow advanced at the summons, and rifled the
+pockets of the sheriff with a dexterity which proved him an adept in
+the business. A teacher of music would have envied his fingering.
+Having caused the pockets of the sheriff to disgorge, he thus, in the
+canting language, enumerated their contents:--
+
+"The _moabite's ribbin runs thin_, (the sheriff's cash runs low.) He
+has no _mint_, (gold,) and only a _mopus_ or two."
+
+"Fool!" said the queen, "has he no paper?"
+
+"Ay, ay, missus, here's his _fiddle_," (writ,) was the answer.
+
+"Give it me," cried the queen. "Here, you _patrico_, our eyes are bad.
+Read this scrawl, and acquaint us with the contents."
+
+The _patrico_, or hedge priest, a fellow in a rusty, black suit, with
+a beard of three weeks' growth, bleared eyes, and a red, Bardolph
+nose, took the writ, which he had more difficulty in reading than Tony
+Lumpkin, when he received the letter of Hastings. At first, he held it
+upside down, then reversed it, looking at it at arm's length, and then
+gave it a closer scrutiny. He finally gave it as his opinion, that it
+empowered the _queer-cuffin_ (so he termed the sheriff) to seize upon
+the so called queen of the gypsies, accused of the crime of murder,
+and also to apprehend her followers. When he had concluded, the old
+crone snatched the writ from his hand, and, tearing it to pieces,
+flung the fragments into the face of the sheriff.
+
+"Take him away," said she, "and leave us alone with the sexton of St.
+Hubert's. Guard him well, for we wish to show him how we administer
+justice among us. We will be judge and jury, and our _upright man_
+shall be the executioner."
+
+She waved her tawny hand with the air of a princess dismissing her
+courtiers, and her mandate was obeyed. She was left alone with the
+sexton of St. Hubert's. Looking him steadily in the face, she said,--
+
+"John Pembroke, I give you joy of your marriage."
+
+"Wretched woman!" said the sexton, "you poisoned her. By your hand she
+died."
+
+"You are mistaken," answered the old woman, with a bitter smile. "She
+is not dead, but sleepeth. You see the devil can quote Scripture. It
+was my first intention to have poisoned her; but my second thoughts
+were better. So, instead of the medicine you sought, I gave you a
+powerful narcotic, which has thrown her into a deep sleep. She lies,
+at this moment, you know, in the chapel of St. Hubert's. There are
+flowers on her coffin, and there is a shroud around her. If I am not
+very much mistaken, about this hour she awakes."
+
+"And perishes! Fiend in human shape, how you have deceived me! At this
+hour, remote from help, my Margaret is dying."
+
+"She is not your Margaret, neither is she dying," said the crone.
+"Listen to me. I sent a trusty messenger to him that Margaret
+loves--to him who loves her fondly and faithfully--and if all things
+have gone as well as I anticipate, by this time she is in his arms.
+The draught she drank is harmless."
+
+"Cursed deceiver!" cried the sexton, struggling frantically to free
+himself from the ligatures which bound him. "You have done an accursed
+deed. You have deprived me of my betrothed bride."
+
+"Your betrothed bride!" said the queen of the gypsies. "Behold her!"
+She waved her hand, and Myra stood before the sexton of St. Hubert's.
+"There she stands," said the gypsy. "Have you forgotten that your
+troth is plighted to her? The bride and the priest are ready. Man of
+guilt and passion, wed her you may, wed her you must!"
+
+"Never!" cried the sexton. "When I sought your lawless crew to indulge
+my love of revelling and pleasure, the person of Myra lighted a fire
+in my breast. But it was an unholy flame. I will never marry her. Let
+her live--live to be branded with infamy and disgrace!"
+
+"Ha!" cried the crone, rising from her seat. "Is it so? Speak, Myra!
+child of my heart, is it so?"
+
+The gypsy girl clasped her hands together, and hung her head in shame.
+Her cheeks were suffused with crimson; then they became deadly pale,
+and she sank lifeless on the ground.
+
+"You have killed her!" shrieked the gypsy queen, "and dearly shall you
+rue it."
+
+She placed a whistle to her lips, and blew a shrill blast. But she
+received a far different answer than she had anticipated; for one of
+the sheriff's men had succeeded in escaping from the hands of the
+gypsy crew, and galloped to the neighboring town, where a troop of
+horse was quartered. The commanding officer instantly repaired to the
+gypsy camp, where he arrived in time to apprehend the crew before
+they had committed any act of violence. The sexton of St. Hubert's did
+not long survive this night, and Myra became a maniac. The fate of the
+lovers we shall next describe.
+
+When the lover of Margaret received the message of the queen of the
+gypsies, he repaired to the spot where his mistress lay, to all
+appearance, in the arms of death. But life had not departed; and even
+as he hung gazing over her, a faint color mounted to her cheek, and
+her bosom began to heave beneath her white garment. He raised her in
+his arms, bore her to the air, and she revived. When her senses were
+fully restored, she consented to guard against another separation by
+marrying her lover and savior. William had provided a humble
+post-chaise to convey his bride far from the scene of her past perils
+and temptations. They journeyed by slow stages to the north, and at
+the close of a few days entered a romantic village. The lover
+bridegroom pointed out a gray and noble old pile, the turrets of which
+rose lofty above the waving trees of an ancient park. He asked if she
+should like to visit it. She replied in the affirmative, and they
+drove, unchallenged, through the gateway and along a noble avenue
+shaded by huge oaks. When they reached the portals of the building,
+the post-boy stopped the horses, dismounted, threw open the door of
+the chaise, and let down the steps. William lifted his companion from
+her seat in his arms.
+
+"Margaret," said he, "look up. This is Woodley Castle, and you are
+Lady Armitage."
+
+
+
+
+JACK WITHERS.
+
+
+Every body liked Jack Withers. He was a handsome, active young fellow
+of five-and-twenty, of a good family, an orphan, who came into
+possession of thirty thousand dollars when he came of age. In this age
+of California gold, when fortunes are made by shovelling dust, and the
+wonders of Aladdin's treasure house are realized by men of no capital
+but pickaxes and muscles, thirty thousand dollars does not seem a
+prodigious sum. Yet our great-grandfathers retired from business on
+that amount, and were thought, at least, comfortably well off; and
+even nowadays, thirty thousand dollars, judiciously managed, will keep
+a man out of the poorhouse, and give him a clean shirt and a leg of
+mutton for his lifetime. But poor Jack was not a judicious manager,
+and a tandem team and champagne suppers, with a shooting-box and turf
+speculations, soon made ducks and drakes of a little fortune. Thus at
+twenty-five, our friend Jack was _minus_; or, in the elegant
+phraseology of the day, "a gentleman at large with pockets to let."
+
+When a man's riches have taken wings and _vamosed_, when all his old
+uncles are used up, and he has no prospective legacy to fall back
+upon, he is generally cut by the acquaintances of his prosperous days.
+The memory of "what he used to was" is seldom cherished, and the
+unhappy victim of prodigality discovers to his sorrow, that
+
+    "'Tis a very good world that we live in,
+    To lend, or to spend, or to give in;
+    But to beg, or to borrow, or get a man's own,
+    'Tis the very worst world, sir, that ever was known."
+
+Jack, however, was not destined to drink the cup of this bitter
+experience. He was just as popular and just as much courted without a
+penny in his pocket, as he was when he possessed the means to be
+extravagant, when he
+
+    "Spread to the liberal air his silken sails,
+    And lavished guineas like a Prince of Wales."
+
+The secret of his prodigious popularity was his obliging disposition.
+His time and talents--and he had plenty of the former, and no lack of
+the latter--were always at the service of his friends; and though the
+idlest dog in the world when his own affairs were in question, in the
+cause of his friends he was the busiest man alive. Thus he fairly won
+his dinners, his rides, his drives, and his opera tickets--they were
+trifling commissions on his benevolent transactions.
+
+"Jack," one fellow would say, "my horse is too confoundedly high
+strung, and only half broke. He threw me yesterday."
+
+"I'll ride him for you, Bill," would be the ready reply; "give me your
+spurs, and I'll give him a lesson."
+
+And away he would go, without a thought of his neck, to mount a
+restive rascal that had half killed the rough rider of a cavalry
+regiment.
+
+"Jack," another would say, "I've got an awkward affair on hand with
+Lieutenant ----; he fancies I've insulted him, and has thrown out dark
+hints about coffee and pistols."
+
+"Make yourself perfectly easy, my boy; I'll bring him to reason or
+fight him myself."
+
+So Jack had his hands full of business. Well, one dreary, desolate
+afternoon in March, when the barbs of all the vanes in the city were
+looking pertinaciously eastward, and people were shivering over
+anthracite grates, Jack Withers "might have been seen," as James would
+say, seated in the little back parlor of the coffee room in School
+Street, sipping Mocha with his particular friend Bill Bliffins, who
+had an especial claim upon his kindness, from the fact that he had
+already extricated Bill from scrapes innumerable.
+
+Mocha is a great prompter of social and kindly feelings, and prompts,
+in _tźte-ą-tźtes_, to that unreserved confidence on one part, and that
+obliging interest on the other, which unite two congenial and kindred
+spirits in adamantine bonds.
+
+"Jack," said Bill, smiting the marble table emphatically, "you are my
+best friend."
+
+"Pooh, pooh! you flatter me," said Jack, blushing like a peony; "I've
+never done any thing for you."
+
+"Yes, you have, and you know it," persisted Bliffins. "Didn't you
+fight Lieutenant Jenkins, of the Salamander, when I ought to have
+fought him myself? Haven't you endorsed my notes when nobody else
+would back my paper?"
+
+"I'll do it again, my boy," said Jack, with a gush of enthusiastic
+feeling.
+
+"Ahem! your name on short or long paper isn't exactly what it used to
+be," said Bill, rather unfeelingly, perhaps.
+
+"True, true," returned Jack, in a more subdued tone; "I haven't got
+many friends left in the synagogues."
+
+"But what you have done, Jack," continued Bliffins, with enthusiasm,
+"emboldens me to trespass yet further on your patience."
+
+"With all my heart," said Jack; and there was no reservation implied
+in the hearty tone in which the words were uttered.
+
+"Then listen to my story, as the postilion of Longjumeau sings. Hear
+me for my cause, and be silent that you may hear."
+
+"I'll be mute as the codfish in the House of Representatives."
+
+"Well, then," said Bill, in a solemn tone, "I'm dead broke."
+
+"Dead broke?"
+
+"Yes; I'm running on my last hundred."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"True, though, for all that. Yet my circumstances are not so
+desperate, either. There's a vacant clerkship in the secretary of
+state's office; and the governor has been sounded, and I think he
+might be disposed to give it to me."
+
+"Go to him at once, then, my dear boy. If he wants any reference, send
+him to me. I'll endorse your character, as I used to your paper when
+my name was worth something on 'change. Go to him at once."
+
+"It's easy to say it, Jack; but the fact is, that I have such a
+confounded hesitating address that I fear I should make an unfavorable
+impression, and ruin my cause; whereas, if a plausible, voluble fellow
+like yourself could get his ear and plead for me, my appointment would
+be certain. Now will you----"
+
+"Call on the governor? With all my heart--consider the thing settled."
+
+"That's not all; you must be my advocate in another quarter. I'm over
+head and ears in love with Juliet Trevor--Trapp & Trevor--W. I. Goods,
+wholesale. You know the firm?"
+
+"Like a book."
+
+"I want you to see the girl and the old people; I haven't confidence
+to propose in person. You can do it for me?"
+
+"With all my heart. I give you joy of the clerkship and the
+girl--they're yours."
+
+"I'm eternally obliged, Jack."
+
+"Not the least, my boy--always ready to serve my friends. By the way,
+have you got any money about your clothes? I invited you to take
+coffee, but I forgot my purse in my other trousers--no change, you
+know."
+
+"There, get this V changed," said Bliffins, handing him a bank note.
+
+Jack took the note and walked up to the counter.
+
+"Coffee and pie for two, my dear" said he to the attendant. "It's all
+right--you know me--pay next time--Withers and friend. Come, Bill,
+I've fixed it."
+
+"But the change!" said Bill.
+
+"Never mind the change--morrow do as well. By, by,--_au revoir_."
+
+"Remember the governor!"
+
+"All right, my boy."
+
+"And Juliet!"
+
+"Make yourself easy."
+
+So they parted. The next day, Jack sent in his card to the governor at
+the Adams House, and followed the pasteboard before the message could
+be returned. The governor received his visitor with his usual
+urbanity.
+
+"Good quarters, governor!" said Jack, looking round him as he dropped
+into a rocking chair, and tapped his boot with his walking stick.
+"Chief magistrate of the commonwealth--well lodged--people pay--all
+right."
+
+The governor was much amused at the coolness of his guest, and waited
+patiently to learn his business. He was not kept long in suspense.
+
+"Governor," said Jack, "I come to solicit your favor not on my behalf,
+but in the cause of friendship--sacred friendship--holy bond of two
+congenial hearts, &c.--but you know all that. My friend, sir, William
+Bliffins--unfortunate young man--reduced in circumstances--good
+family--good blood--grandfather in the revolution--soil of Bunker Hill
+irrigated with the blood of Bliffins--but you know all that--run
+through his fortune--on the town--not a penny--hard case."
+
+"Do you solicit charity, sir, for your friend?"
+
+"Not exactly--official favor--vacant clerkship--secretary's
+office--make him comfortable--but you know all that."
+
+"Really, sir, you run on at such a rate----"
+
+"Way I've got--few leading points all you want--time precious--money
+(old saw)--Bliffins--clerkship--don't you take?"
+
+"I think I recollect the name, now. But I must inquire into the
+character of the applicant. How did he lose his fortune?"
+
+"Unbounded benevolence--heart like an ox--bigger--endorsing notes for
+friends--founding hospitals for indigent Africans--temperance
+movement--philanthropy expensive--but you know all that."
+
+"The office in question requires a good penman. Can your friend write
+well?"
+
+"Splendid hand--copperplate--_currente calamo_--shine in your eyes."
+
+"Have you a specimen of his penmanship?"
+
+"Cords at home--some in pocket. Here you have it! no, that's my
+washerwoman's bill. Ah, here it is!" and Jack pulled out a crumpled
+note, and placed it before the governor.
+
+The governor scanned the document curiously, and with great difficulty
+deciphered the following words, which he read silently:--
+
+"Dear Jack,--Fashion has been beaten, and I lost on the mare. I shall
+back Tom Hyer to the extent of my pile. He is training finely. Bricks
+has a couple of Santa Anna's game cocks for me, on board the Raritan,
+at Lewis's wharf. Can you run down and get 'em from the steward? Yrs,
+&c."
+
+The governor smiled as he handed back the note, but made no remark.
+
+"Where can I communicate with you, sir?" he asked.
+
+"Dog and Thistle, Blackstone Street. I'll write my address."
+
+So Jack wrote his address card, (by the way, he wrote a splendid
+hand,) and took his leave of the governor.
+
+From the Adams House he posted to Louisburg Square, where the Trevors
+were living in great style. Slightly acquainted with Miss Trevor, he
+found no difficulty in being admitted to her presence. After rattling
+over a few commonplace topics, he came to the object of his mission.
+
+"Have you seen Bliffins lately?"
+
+"Not very," replied the fair one, languidly.
+
+"Dying, ma'am, dying."
+
+"Is it possible? What's the matter, sir?"
+
+"Love--desperation--patience on a monument couldn't sit there
+forever--heart ache--only one thing to save him."
+
+"Indeed! and what is that?"
+
+"He loves you, madam, passionately, devotedly, enormously--Petrarch,
+Abelard, lukewarm lovers in comparison. Throws himself at your
+feet--save him!--marry him quick! or you'll lose him!--say yes."
+
+"Sir, my father will communicate with you," said the lady, rising to
+terminate the interview.
+
+"Dog and Thistle, Blackstone Street," said Jack, and bowed himself
+away.
+
+The next day Jack and Bill were again seated together in a small room
+at the Dog and Thistle, waiting the result of the obliging operations
+of the former. In a few moments a waiter brought in a note,
+superscribed John Withers, Esq. Jack tore it open, and read as
+follows:--
+
+     "Sir,--In answer to your application yesterday, I am sorry
+     to return you an unfavorable reply; but the chirography of
+     the person you recommended, to say nothing of other
+     considerations, unfits him for the vacancy in question.
+     Having made inquiries with regard to yourself, and finding
+     that you are in circumstances which might render employment
+     acceptable, while your conduct proves that you have
+     sincerely repented of the follies of your early years, I
+     have concluded to request your acceptance of the office
+     yourself. If you accept the offer, please report yourself
+     to-morrow.
+
+"Yours, respectfully,
+---- ----,
+"Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."
+
+"You're an impostor!" shouted Bliffins. "Is this your friendship?"
+
+"I can't help it," said Jack, ruefully. "I'm innocent--I did the best
+I could for you."
+
+"How did he know any thing about my penmanship?"
+
+"I showed him this note," said the unhappy Jack, producing the
+document.
+
+"That note? You've ruined me! Do you know what it was about?"
+
+"I'd forgotten."
+
+"Why, it was all about horseracing, pugilism, and cock fighting, you
+jackass!"
+
+"Letter for Mr. Bliffins!" said the waiter, entering with another
+epistle. Bliffins read it aloud.
+
+     "Mr. William Bliffins.
+
+     "Sir: In answer to application of your friend, yesterday,
+     for daughter's hand, have to reply for daughter, and say
+     that the honor is respectfully declined. Had you obtained
+     the office you applied for, might have treated with you.
+     Daughter requests me to say that she could not have done so
+     in any case.
+
+"Your ob't servant,
+J. TREVOR."
+
+     "P.S. Please hand the enclosed to Mr. Withers."
+
+The "enclosed" was an invitation to a grand ball given by the Trevors
+on the ensuing night.
+
+After overwhelming his friend with anathemas, Bliffins rushed wildly
+from the Dog and Thistle, and enlisted in the second dragoons.
+
+Jack Withers, who had never before looked out for number one, now
+became so "obliging" as to take care of that neglected personage. He
+became a praiseworthy clerk, and a steady man of business. He went to
+the ball and polked himself into the good graces of Miss Juliet
+Trevor. The old gentleman and lady smiled upon their loves, and in
+due time he was united to the object of his affections, securing
+thereby a handsome and amiable wife, and an independent fortune, which
+she insisted on settling upon her husband on the wedding day. There is
+no fear of Jack's relapsing into his old habits of extravagance; and
+while he is still as popular as ever, he never neglects his own
+affairs for those of other people.
+
+
+
+
+THE SILVER HAMMER.
+
+
+The sun was sinking in the west, and gilding with its slant beams a
+pastoral landscape, as a young soldier, weary and footsore, slowly
+toiled along a lonely road that ran parallel with the course of the
+bright and winding Seine. A dusty foraging cap rested on his dark
+locks, and his youthful form bent beneath the weight of a well-filled
+knapsack. Pierre Lacour had served with honor in that glorious little
+band of heroes, which, under the leadership of the youthful Bonaparte,
+had crossed the snow-clad Alps, and fallen like an avalanche upon the
+plains of Lombardy, sweeping before it the veteran troops of Austria,
+and astonishing all Europe by unparalleled audacity and unexampled
+success. Pierre had marched farther on that day than he had ever done
+while following the colors of his regiment--but he was on his way
+home, and he longed to see his mother, his fair young sister Maria,
+and a lovely maiden, named Estelle, dearer to his heart than all
+beside. They had news of his coming,--at least, Maria and his mother
+had,--and he had sent them in advance, by a sure hand, a large amount
+of money, his share of the spoils of battle honorably won--enough, in
+short, to give a dowry to his sister, and enable him to demand the
+reward of all his toils and dangers--the hand of his betrothed.
+
+His heart beat quick as he climbed the last vine-clad hill which
+separated him from his native valley. A few steps more would bring him
+to the summit, whence his eye would rest on the neat whitewashed
+cottage, with its surrounding palings, and trim garden; and there,
+perhaps, at the rustic gate, he should see the well-known figures of
+his mother and sister. Far as he had travelled, he sprang up the
+ascent with a buoyant step, and soon gained the eminence. The cottage
+lay full in view, but though it was the usual hour for preparing the
+evening meal, no blue smoke wreath curled upward from the chimney. A
+vague presentiment of evil weighed upon his heart. Hastening to dispel
+the dark and chilling fears that came thick upon him, he hurried down
+the slope, and soon passed through the garden and stood within the
+cottage. He called aloud--no voice responded to his cry. He rushed
+into the little room, which served at once for kitchen and parlor. It
+was empty--no fire burned upon the hearth. The humble furniture was in
+strange disarray. The casement, which looked out upon the garden was
+shattered. The walls and floor were charred and blackened with smoke,
+as if the house had taken fire and been saved with difficulty. Pierre
+sprang up stairs. In neither of the chambers could he find the loved
+ones whom he sought--only the same scene of confusion and desolation.
+Turning in dismay from the spectacle, he rushed out of the cottage to
+make his way to the nearest neighbors, and inquire into this appalling
+mystery. As he hurried along--his brain whirling, his footsteps
+uncertain and unsteady--he stumbled against an aged man of venerable
+appearance, who was coming in the opposite direction. The young
+soldier halted, and touching his cap, begged pardon for his
+involuntary rudeness.
+
+"My poor Pierre," said the old man, "I know too well the cause of your
+forgetfulness."
+
+The soldier looked up and recognized the familiar and benevolent
+features of the good priest of the village, his old tutor and pastor.
+
+"Father," he said, pointing to the cottage, "you have been there--you
+know all--tell me--where are they?"
+
+The old man's eyes filled with tears, as he shook his head, and laid
+his hand kindly on the young man's shoulder.
+
+"Pierre," said he, "you have read 'whom the Lord loveth he
+chasteneth?'"
+
+The soldier bowed his head.
+
+"Pierre," exclaimed the good priest, "let us sit down on this bank.
+You are a good and brave boy. You can face danger, and I have sought
+to furnish you weapons to wage war against sorrow and trial."
+
+"You have been a father to me, sir," replied the young soldier,
+complying with the invitation of his pastor, and taking a seat beside
+him. "I will endeavor to listen calmly to all you have to communicate.
+Where are my mother and sister?"
+
+"Pierre," said the old man, "arm yourself with all your fortitude. You
+will never see your mother more till you meet her in that happier
+world, where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at
+rest."
+
+Pierre groaned deeply, and covering his face with his hands, rocked
+his body to and fro as he burst into an agony of tears. The priest
+sought not to interrupt him, but turned away his own weeping
+countenance, for the anguish of the youth was too painful to
+contemplate.
+
+At last the poor soldier looked up and spoke again: "What of my poor
+sister?"
+
+"I know nothing," replied the priest; "she is gone whither, none can
+tell. A great crime has been committed. By whom, none knows, save God
+and the perpetrator thereof. You sent home a large sum of money to
+your mother. She was so overjoyed at your good fortune, that she made
+no secret of its reception, though I cautioned her against speaking of
+it. A fortnight ago, the village was alarmed by the cry of fire. Your
+cottage was seen to be in flames. The neighbors hastened thither and
+extinguished the blaze. In the smoke and confusion it was not
+perceived at first that murder, as well as incendiarism, had done its
+foul work." The priest paused, overcome with agitation.
+
+"On! on!" shouted Pierre, "I can bear it all now!"
+
+"Your poor mother was the victim," continued the priest; "she lay on
+the hearthstone dead and bleeding. Her bureau had been broken open and
+rifled of its contents."
+
+"My sister! my sister!" cried the soldier.
+
+"She was gone. The whole surrounding country was searched, but nothing
+was discovered."
+
+"Maria! Maria! could gold have tempted _you_? No! no!--dog that I am,
+to suspect you! Misery has driven me mad!" cried the soldier, dashing
+his hand against his forehead.
+
+"The whole dreadful crime," said the old priest, "is shrouded in a
+mystery as appalling as death itself. But God does not permit such
+deeds to slumber undetected or unavenged. Sooner or later they are
+brought to light."
+
+"May I prove the instrument of detection!" said the soldier. "Some of
+the coins that I sent my poor murdered mother were marked--I could
+recognize them again. Father, you shall take me to my mother's grave.
+One prayer there--one word with Estelle--and then I will go to Paris;
+it is the resort of every criminal, and thence it sends forth its
+crime-blackened ruffians to desecrate this fair earth with horror.
+Come, father, come--my mother's grave--lead me there at once!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Years passed away. Save by two or three persons, the crime which had
+desecrated the hearthstone of a humble village home was forgotten in
+those great historical events, of which Europe and France were then
+the theatres. In those days of bloodshed and battle, of victory and
+triumph, Pierre Lacour, who had commenced his military career as a
+brave young soldier, might have risen to the highest honors, had he
+followed the victorious eagles of his emperor. Why might not he rise
+as well as Murat, Ney, Lannes, or a hundred others? The epaulets of a
+colonel, nay, the baton of a marshal of France, were prizes within the
+reach of the lowliest, provided he had the head to plan and the heart
+to execute daring and chivalric deeds. But his heart no longer bounded
+like a war horse to the charge of the trumpet and the roll of the
+drum. He lived for one purpose--to discover the assassin of his mother
+and the sister, of whom nothing had been heard since the dreadful
+night of murder and conflagration. To facilitate his purposes, he had
+procured himself to be enrolled in the unrivalled police force of
+Fouché. That wily minister had no more able assistant under his
+command, and none in that fraternity (of which many were miscreants,
+who had purchased impunity for crime by selling the lives and
+liberties of former accomplices and comrades) who could compare with
+him for purity of life and elevation of motive. To punish evil for the
+sake of society, was the aim of the young police officer. None more
+untiring or intelligent than he in ferreting out the perpetrators of
+deeds of violence. In the criminals whose arrest he effected, and
+whose conviction he secured, he expected, constantly, to find some
+cognizant of the offence which had thrown so black a shadow over his
+life. He read with eager avidity the dying confessions of the
+condemned. He caught eagerly every syllable that fell from the lips of
+men, who, standing on the brink of eternity, seemed to be impressed
+with the necessity of revealing truth. But for years his expectations
+were baffled.
+
+At last, all Paris was thrown into commotion by the murder of a
+Colonel Belleville, an officer who had served with distinction in the
+grand army, and who was found dead, one morning, in a room at house
+number 96 Rue La Harpe. The only mark of violence discovered by the
+surgeons was a dark, purple spot, about the size of a five-franc
+piece, on the left temple. The police were apprised that, on the
+morning of the day before, a slight young man, with fair hair and
+polished address, giving his name as Adolph Belmont, had hired the
+room at number 96 Rue La Harpe, and paid a week's rent in advance. It
+further appeared that, in the evening, just after the close of the
+performances at the opera, this young man had come home in company
+with an officer of the army. After the lapse of about an hour, the
+young man, Belmont, left the house, telling the porter he should
+return in a few minutes. But he never reappeared. About ten o'clock in
+the morning, the porter went up to his room, and found the door
+locked. He knocked and called, without receiving any answer. Looking
+through the keyhole, he saw the feet and legs of a man, in military
+boots and pantaloons, lying on the floor. Much alarmed and disturbed,
+he sought out a commissary of police, and that functionary, breaking
+open the door, discovered the body of Colonel Belleville. This tragedy
+excited an unusual sensation. Even the emperor heard of it, and, from
+his private purse provided a large sum of money to be paid as a reward
+to the discoverer of the perpetrator of this fearful crime.
+
+Not many days after this occurrence, and while it yet remained
+shrouded in mystery, another murder roused the excitable population of
+Paris to a frenzy of anxiety and horror. An army commissary, named
+Captain Eugene Descartes, was found dead in his lodgings, in the Rue
+Richelieu, with the same fatal purple mark on the left temple.
+
+Yet a third murder was perpetrated in the Boulevard des Italiens. A
+banker, named Monval, was, in this instance, the victim. His left
+temple bore the fatal discoloration of the size of a five-franc piece;
+but, although he had a large sum of money on his person, and wore a
+costly watch and many valuable trinkets, and though articles of high
+price abounded in his sumptuously-furnished apartment, not an article,
+as his steward testified, was missing.
+
+On the morning of the announcement of this last crime in the Moniteur,
+the minister of police received a summons from the emperor to attend
+him. He found him in his private cabinet, pacing to and fro in high
+excitement. His face was more colorless than ever, except that an
+angry hectic spot burned upon each cheek. As the minister entered, the
+emperor turned upon him, and exclaimed,--
+
+"Fouché, what is the meaning of all this? Is this Paris, and are we
+living in the nineteenth century? It appears that there is no security
+for life in our capital. Mr. Fouché, if such crimes can be committed
+with impunity, there is an end of all things; and if you cannot ferret
+out the perpetrators of such atrocities as these, it is time for you
+to vacate your position. I must appoint a new minister of police."
+
+"Sire," replied the minister, "how much time will you give me to
+discover the assassin?"
+
+"One week," replied the emperor.
+
+"I thank your majesty," replied the minister, bowing. "In one week,
+you shall have the assassin's head, or my resignation."
+
+"Good," said the emperor; "and to stimulate the activity of your
+people, I hereby authorize you to offer a reward of twenty thousand
+francs, for the detection of the assassin of the Rue La Harpe, the Rue
+Richelieu, and the Boulevard, if it prove, as I imagine, that one
+individual perpetrated these crimes, or five thousand francs each, if
+there were three criminals. Good day, Mr. Fouché; let me have a report
+of your doings without delay."
+
+The secret of Mr. Fouché's confident promise to detect the assassin
+was the reliance he placed in the activity, daring, and intelligence
+of Pierre Lacour. He sent for him, and related his conversation with
+the emperor, enlarging on the munificent reward promised by Napoleon.
+
+"I am poor," said Lacour, "but higher motives than hopes of reward
+stimulate me to perform this duty. Yet, should I be successful, a sum
+of money like this would enable me to wed one, who, though I
+voluntarily offered to release her from her engagement has loved me as
+well in my misfortunes as in happier times. In one week, therefore,
+Mr. Fouché, I will enable you to redeem your pledge to the emperor."
+
+Four days passed away, and yet the minister of police heard nothing
+from Lacour. But the young man had not been inactive; and once or
+twice he had obtained, what he considered, traces of the person
+calling himself Belmont, the supposed assassin of the Rue la Harpe,
+and, by presumption, of the other murders; but these traces led to no
+result.
+
+Whether in search of diversion, or that a vague hope whispered to him
+that he might obtain some intelligence by so doing, Lacour, on the
+fifth night after his interview with the minister, went to a masked
+ball at the grand opera house, in the costume of an officer of the
+Fusilier Guard, which chance led him to select. Weary of the noise and
+confusion, sad and discouraged, he had withdrawn from the crowded
+circle of dancers, when some one touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"Captain Lassalle," said a sweet musical voice, "you are known, though
+the uniform you wear is not that of your own corps."
+
+Lacour turned with the intention of correcting the mistake, when a
+secret impulse restrained the disavowal. The person who addressed him
+was a slight young man, fashionably dressed, with no other disguise
+than a half-mask of black velvet, which did not conceal his light
+hair.
+
+"I perceive you know me," said Lacour, favoring the mistake; "though
+you have the advantage of me. I cannot possibly conjecture whom I am
+addressing."
+
+The masked laughed lightly.
+
+"Perhaps it would be of no use for me to unmask," was the reply; "but
+if I tell you I have something of importance to communicate to
+you--something in reference to your application to the emperor for
+preferment, you may be disposed to listen to me."
+
+"With all my heart."
+
+"I see you are tired of this noisy scene," said the mask, "and so in
+faith am I. Besides, this is no place to talk of business. What say
+you to a moonlight walk to my lodgings, in the Rue Montmartre? There
+we can discuss our affairs over a glass of champagne."
+
+"I will willingly accompany you," said Lacour, "if you will give me a
+few minutes to speak to a friend, with whom I had a previous
+appointment."
+
+"Make haste, then," said the mask; "you will find me here for fifteen
+minutes."
+
+Lacour hastened to the nearest post, and made himself known to the
+commandant.
+
+"Quick!" said he, "I want a sergeant and a dozen _gens d'armes_. In
+fifteen minutes I shall leave the opera house, in company with a young
+man, for the Rue Montmartre. Let the squad follow us without appearing
+to do so. Keep in the shadow of the houses. We shall enter a house. As
+soon as the door has closed, demand instant admittance of the porter.
+Let the sergeant follow hard upon my heels, and wait outside the door
+of whatever room I enter. At a call from me, let him be ready to burst
+in and secure the person with whom I am in company."
+
+As soon as he had given these directions, the police officer hastened
+back to the opera house, where the mask was still awaiting him. Arm in
+arm they left the hall, and chatting familiarly, entered the Rue
+Montmartre, and soon arrived at an old house of seven stories, to
+which they were admitted by the porter. Lacour's heart beat as he
+accompanied his guide, in the dark, up three pairs of stairs--but
+before he had reached the head of the third flight, he heard the
+street door open and shut below, and knew that the sergeant had obeyed
+his directions, and that help was at hand in case his suspicions
+proved true.
+
+The mask opened the door of a room, and ushered in his guest. It was a
+small, boudoir-like apartment, and exquisitely furnished. Silken
+hangings fell over gold arrows, from the ceiling to the floor.
+Tapestry carpets, soft as velvet, covered the floor. Rich ottomans,
+superb mirrors, marble tables, and pictures, were crowded together. A
+soft light was diffused through the apartment by an alabaster
+shade-lamp. An intoxicating perfume loaded the atmosphere, and even
+oppressed the senses. Lacour, as he sank upon the sofa, felt overcome
+by a strange languor. The mask sat close beside him.
+
+"Captain," said the mask, in a musical, insinuating voice, "have you
+ever loved?"
+
+"Before I answer this question," replied Lacour, "I must first know
+what prompts you thus to catechize me."
+
+"Because," replied the unknown, "I have deceived you--because I am a
+woman--one who has long known and loved you, till an uncontrollable
+desire to make this confession has compelled her to a step that you
+will blame, and, perhaps, despise her for."
+
+Lacour was puzzled, and remained silent for a few moments.
+
+"I see," said the mask, with a sigh, "you despise me for my very
+boldness. Yet, I am a lady of rank and reputation, and my affection
+for you is as pure as that of maiden can be."
+
+"Fair lady," said Lacour, "if such you be indeed, you must permit me
+to request you to remove that envious mask."
+
+"It may not be," replied the stranger, with a laugh. "Ask that, or
+presume to remove this shield, and I vanish like a fairy or a phantom.
+But if you promise to be very obedient, I may give you hopes of
+disclosing my face--perhaps my name--at our next interview. But in
+reward for your submission to my behest, I will allow you, like a
+benignant sovereign, to do homage to my ungloved hand."
+
+She withdrew her kid glove, and presented, playfully, a hand so white,
+so delicately veined, and small, that Lacour could no longer doubt
+that he was addressing a lady. He raised the hand respectfully to his
+lips. But he felt now that his suspicions were groundless, and that he
+did wrong in deceiving a person, who, however romantic and
+unjustifiable her behavior might seem, was still one entitled to
+respect and honor. But as he was framing an apology for taking
+advantage of her mistaking him, the stranger suddenly sprang upon him
+like a tigress. The delicate hand he had just kissed now compressed
+his throat like an iron vice; the other suddenly brandished in the air
+a small _silver hammer_, while a fierce voice hissed in his ear,
+"Lassalle! your hour has come! Belleville, Descartes, and Monval, have
+gone before you to answer for their crimes. You are the fourth, and
+last. Die, villain!"
+
+But Lacour struggled free, and shouted for help. The door fell with a
+crash; the soldiers poured in, and the female assassin was secured and
+disarmed. Eager to unravel the mystery, the police officer tore the
+mask from the face of the unknown, and recognized in the wild and
+inflamed features of the assassin of the Rue La Harpe, the Rue
+Richelieu, and the Boulevard des Italiens, his sister, Maria Lacour!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But Maria Lacour died not on the scaffold. She was saved from that
+doom by unquestionable proofs of insanity. Her sad story was learned
+afterwards from various sources, and corroborated, in the most
+important particulars, by Captain Lassalle, who was arrested for a
+criminal offence shortly after the above incident, and made a full
+confession of his guilt. It appeared, then, that the house of the
+widow Lacour, a short time before the opening of our story, had been
+broken into by four villains, named Belleville, Descartes, Monval, and
+Lassalle. They were all men of bad habits, and urgently necessitous,
+but yet of decent education and family. Hearing a noise in the
+kitchen, Maria descended only in time to witness the death pangs of
+the mother. The three first-named ruffians, demons who had murdered to
+rob, wished to destroy this witness of their guilt, but the fourth
+interceded, and her life was spared. But the horror of the deed
+overthrew her reason. She fled from the house that night a maniac;
+whither she wandered, how she was cared for, for a long time was and
+must ever remain a mystery. She finally, it seems, became in a degree
+tranquillized, found her way to Paris, and there she supported herself
+by her extraordinary skill as an embroideress.
+
+But it was conjectured that her memory of early events had gone. The
+casual sight of one of the assassins, all of whom had prospered and
+risen in the world, revived the recollection of that one fearful night
+of horror, and with it came to her disordered brain the thirst of
+vengeance. It did not appear that for a moment she had dreamed of
+appealing to the interposition of the law. To execute a summary
+vengeance, personally, was her terrible resolve. With a cunning that
+often supplies the loss of reason with the insane, she contrived
+snares, into which three of the assassins fell, and, with the singular
+implement her fancy had suggested, was the means of their death.
+Chance led to the failure of her plan for punishing the last of the
+assassins, Lassalle, and to her discovery by her brother.
+
+Immediately after her arrest and examination, on proof of the
+condition of her mind, she was conveyed to a private asylum, and
+carefully attended to. Fortunately, her madness here assumed a happier
+phase. She took great pleasure in seeing her brother, and appeared to
+have forgotten that her mother was no more, asking him every day how
+soon their mother would come and take her back to the country. But the
+trials she had undergone had undermined her health. She sank very
+rapidly, and soon breathed her last.
+
+Lacour only remained long enough in the service of the police to
+effect the arrest, and witness the condemnation of Lassalle, the last
+of the four assassins, who escaped the silver hammer of the maniac
+girl, to die by the hand of the executioner.
+
+The sorrows he had experienced would have blighted the heart and
+sapped the life of Pierre Lacour, but for the love of one who had
+proved true to him through all his trials. Some months after the death
+of his sister, he married his faithful Estelle, and retired to a small
+and well-stocked farm, for which he was indebted to the generosity of
+the emperor; and he lived long enough, if not to forget his sorrows,
+at least to find consolation in the bosom of his family.
+
+
+
+
+THE CHRIST CHURCH CHIMES.
+
+
+It was a cold winter evening. The chill blast came sweeping from the
+chain of hills that guard our city on the north, laden with the cold
+breath of a thousand leagues of ice and snow. There was a sharp, polar
+glitter in the myriad stars that wheeled on their appointed course
+through the dark blue heaven, in whose expanse no single cloud was
+visible. Howling through the icy streets came the strong, wild north
+wind, tearing in its fierce frenzy the sailcloth awnings into tatters,
+swinging the public-house signs, and shaking the window shutters, like
+a bold burglar bent on the perpetration of crime. Then onward, onward
+it sped over the dark steel-colored bay, and out to the wild, wide,
+open sea, to do battle with the sails of the stanch barks that were
+struggling towards a haven.
+
+But within, the good people of Boston were stoutly waging battle
+against the common enemy on this bitter Christmas eve. In some of the
+old-fashioned houses at the North End, inhabited by old-fashioned
+people, the ruddy light that streamed through the parlor windows on
+the street announced that huge fires of oak and hickory were blazing
+on the ample hearths. But in far the greater number of dwellings, the
+less genial, but more powerful anthracite was contending with the
+wintry elements.
+
+In an upper room of an old, crazy, wooden house, a poor woman, thinly
+clad, sat sewing beside a rusty, sheet-iron stove, poorly supplied
+with chips. She had been once eminently handsome, and but for the
+wanness and hollowness of her face, would have appeared so still.
+
+Two little boys, of eight and nine years of age, were warming
+themselves, or seeking to warm themselves, at the stove, before
+retiring to their little bed in a small room adjoining.
+
+"Isn't this nice, mother?" said the younger, a bright, black-eyed boy.
+"Didn't I get a nice lot of chips to-day?"
+
+"Yes, dearest, you are always a good and industrious boy," said the
+mother, snatching a moment from her work to imprint a kiss upon his
+forehead.
+
+"Poor pa' will have a nice fire to warm him when he comes home," said
+the elder boy.
+
+At this allusion to the child's father, the mother burst into tears.
+The countenances of both the children fell. They knew too well the
+cause of their mother's bitter sorrow--the same cause had blighted
+their own young hearts and clouded their innocent lives--their father
+was a drunkard! Hence it was that, bright and intelligent as they
+were, they could not go to school--they were too ragged for that--and
+their time was required on the wharves to pick up fuel and such scraps
+of provision as are scattered from the sheaves of the prosperous and
+prodigal. For this reason, too, the mother had carefully forborne to
+remind the children that this was Christmas eve. But they knew it too
+well, and they contrasted its gloominess and sorrow with the
+well-remembered anniversaries when this was a season of delight--the
+eve of promised pleasures, of feasts, of dances, and of presents. With
+this thought in their hearts they silently kissed their mother, and
+retired to their little bed, committing themselves to "Our Father who
+art in heaven," while the poor mother toiled on, listening with dread
+for the returning footsteps of her husband.
+
+The husband and father, whose return was thus dreaded, had worked late
+at night in the shop of the carpenter who had given him temporary
+employment, and who was to pay him this evening. Five or six dollars
+were coming to him, more than he had earned honestly for a long while,
+and his hand shook with eagerness as his employer counted out his
+wages. As he put on his hat to leave the shop, he observed his
+fellow-workmen, who were all sober and steady men, eying him with sad,
+inquiring looks; he almost ran out of the shop.
+
+"I know what they mean," he said to himself. "But what is it to them
+how I spend my money--the prying busy-bodies! I'm not a slave--I have
+a right to do what I please with my own. Whew! how cutting the wind
+is! A glass or two of hot whiskey toddy will be just the thing!"
+
+Without one thought of his toiling wife and neglected children, the
+poor, infatuated man hastened towards a grocery with the intention of
+slaking his morbid thirst. At the moment his foot was on the
+threshold, out from the belfry of Christ Church, ringing clear in the
+frosty air, streamed a tide of sweet and solemn music. Simple, yet
+touching, was the melody of those sacred bells, chiming forth the
+advent of the blessed Christmas time. And as the song of the bells
+fell upon his ear, it awakened in the drunkard a thousand memories of
+happier, because better days. The comfortable dwelling, the quiet,
+neat parlor, with its Christmas dressings, the sweet face of his wife,
+the merry laugh of his bright-eyed children--all flashed back vividly
+upon his mind. He recked not of the bitter blast--he forgot his late
+purpose--he could wish those sweet bells to play on forever. But they
+ceased.
+
+"It was a voice from heaven!" said the man, as the tears rolled down
+his cheeks. "Surely God has blessed those Christ Church chimes. I'll
+never more drink one drop. This money shall go to my family, every
+cent of it. It is not too late yet to buy provision for to-morrow, and
+some comfortable things for the children."
+
+It was late that night when the watching wife heard the step of her
+husband on the staircase. It was as slow and heavy as usual; but how
+relieved, how astonished, how grateful she felt, when the door opened,
+and he came in, happy, sober, bearing a huge basket filled with
+provisions, and threw down a parcel containing stockings, comforters,
+and mittens for the children, not forgetting some simple Christmas
+wreaths, and some of those condiments which children love.
+
+The next day was a happy one indeed for the mother and the little
+boys--a merry Christmas that reminded them of old times, and gave them
+assurance of a happy future. May we not hope that the effect we have
+attributed to the Christ Church chimes is not a solitary instance of
+the power of music?
+
+
+
+
+THE POLISH SLAVE.
+
+
+Gayly opened the bright summer morning on the gray feudal turrets of
+Castle Tekeli, the residence of the old Count Alexis Tekeli, that
+crowned a rocky eminence, and was embosomed in the deep secular
+forests of Lithuania. The court yard was a scene of joyous noise and
+gay confusion; for the whole household was mustering for the chase.
+Half a dozen horses, gaily caparisoned, were neighing, snorting, and
+pawing the ground with hot impatience; a pack of stanch hounds, with
+difficulty restrained by the huntsmen, mingled their voices with the
+neighing of the steeds, while the slaves and relatives of the family
+were all busy in preparation for the day's sport.
+
+Count Alexis was the first in the saddle; aged, but hale and vigorous,
+he was alert and active as a young man of five-and-twenty.
+
+"Where are my daughters?" he exclaimed, impatiently, as he drew on his
+buff gantlets. "The sun is mounting apace, and we should not lose the
+best portion of the day."
+
+As if in reply to his question, a tall, dark-haired girl, of elegant
+figure and stately bearing, appeared by his side, and with the
+assistance of a groom, mounted her prancing gray palfrey.
+
+"This is well, Anna," said the count. "But where is Eudocia? She must
+not keep us waiting."
+
+"Eudocia declines to be of our party, father," replied the girl.
+
+"Pshaw!" said the old man; "she will never have your color in her
+cheeks, if she persist in moping in her chamber, reading old legends
+and missals, and the rhymes of worthless minnesingers. But let her go;
+I have one daughter who can live with the hunt, and see the boar at
+bay without flinching. Sound, bugle, and forward!"
+
+Amid the ringing of silver curb chains, the baying of hounds, and the
+enlivening notes of the bugle, the cavalcade and the train of footmen
+swept out of the court yard, and descending the winding path, plunged
+into the heart of the primeval forest. The dogs and the beaters darted
+into the thick copsewood, and soon the shouts of the huntsmen and the
+fierce bay of the dogs announced that a wild boar had been found and
+started. On dashed the merry company, Count Alexis leading on the
+spur. The lady Anna soon found herself alone, but she pressed her
+palfrey in the direction of the sounds of the chase as they receded in
+the distance. Suddenly she found herself in a small clearing, and drew
+her rein to rest her panting steed. She had not remained long in her
+position, when she heard, opposite to her, a crashing among the
+branches, and the next moment a huge wild boar, maddened with pursuit,
+and foaming with rage, broke into the opening and sprang directly
+towards her. Her horse, terrified at the apparition, reared so
+suddenly that he fell backwards, throwing his rider heavily, and
+narrowly missing crushing her. Springing to his feet, he dashed wildly
+away with flying mane and rein, while the lady lay at the mercy of the
+infuriated animal, faint and incapable of exertion.
+
+At that critical moment, a young man, in the livery of the count,
+dashed before the prostrate form of the lady, and dropping on one
+knee, levelled his short spear, and sternly received the charge of the
+boar. Though the weapon was well directed, it shivered in the grasp of
+the young huntsman; and though he drew his short sword with the
+rapidity of thought, the boar was upon him. The struggle was short and
+fierce, and the young huntsman succeeded in slaying the monster, but
+not until he had received a severe wound in the arm from the tusks of
+the boar. Heedless of his sufferings, however, he ran to a neighboring
+rivulet, and filling his cap with water, returned and sprinkled the
+face of the fainting girl. In a few moments she revived.
+
+Her first words, uttered with a trembling voice, were,--
+
+"Where--where is the wild boar?"
+
+"There, lady," said the huntsman, pointing to the grizzly monster.
+"His career is ended."
+
+"And it is you who have saved my life," exclaimed Anna, with a
+grateful smile.
+
+"I did my duty, lady," answered the huntsman.
+
+"But who are you, sir? Let me, at least, know your name that I may
+remember you in my prayers."
+
+"My name is Michael Erlitz; though your eyes, lady, may never have
+dwelt on one so lowly as myself, I am ever in your father's train when
+he goes to the chase. I am Count Tekeli's _slave_," he added, casting
+his eyes on the ground.
+
+"A slave? and so brave--so handsome!" thought the lady Anna; but she
+gave no utterance to the thought.
+
+At this moment the count rode up, followed by two or three of his
+retainers, and throwing himself from his horse, clasped his daughter
+in his arms.
+
+"My child, my child!" he exclaimed; "thank God, you are alive! I saw
+your horse dash past me riderless, and flew to your assistance. But
+there is blood upon your dress."
+
+"It is my blood!" said the slave, calmly.
+
+"Yours, Michael?" cried the count, looking round him. "Now I see it
+all--the dead boar, the broken spear, your bleeding arm. You saved my
+daughter's life at the risk of your own!"
+
+"The life of a slave belongs to his master and his master's family,"
+answered Michael, calmly. "Of what value is the existence of a serf?
+He belongs not to himself. He is of no more account than a horse or a
+hound."
+
+"Say not so," said Count Alexis, warmly. "Michael, you are a slave no
+longer. I will directly make out your manumission papers. In the mean
+time you shall do no menial service; you shall sit at my board, if you
+will; and be my friend, if you will accept my friendship."
+
+The eagle eye of the young huntsman kindled with rapture. He essayed
+to speak, but the words died upon his tongue. Falling on his knees, he
+seized the count's hand, and pressed it to his lips and heart. Tekeli
+raised him from his humble posture.
+
+"Michael," said he, "henceforth kneel only to your Maker. And now to
+the castle; your hurt needs care."
+
+"Willingly," said the young man, "would I shed the best blood in my
+body to obtain my freedom."
+
+"Ho, there!" said the count to his squire; "dismount, and let Michael
+have your horse; and bring after us Michael's dearly-earned hunting
+trophy. He has eclipsed us all to-day."
+
+Michael was soon in the saddle, riding next to the lady Anna, who,
+from time to time, turned her countenance, beaming with gratitude,
+upon him, and addressed him words of encouragement and kindness; for
+her proud and imperious nature was entirely subdued and changed, for
+the time, by the service he had rendered her.
+
+When the cavalcade reached the castle, they found the lady Eudocia,
+the count's eldest daughter, waiting to receive them. She heard the
+recital of the morning's adventure with deep interest; but a keen
+observer would have noticed that she seemed less moved by the
+recollection of her sister's danger, than by the present condition of
+the wounded huntsman. It was to her care that he was committed, as she
+was skilled in the healing art, having inherited the knowledge from
+her mother. She compelled Michael to give up all active employment,
+and, in the course of a few weeks, succeeded in effecting a complete
+restoration of the wounded arm.
+
+Count Tekeli treated the young man with the kindness of a father,
+losing all his aristocratic prejudices in a generous sense of
+gratitude. Splendidly attired, promised an honorable career in arms,
+if he chose to adopt the military profession, his whole future changed
+by a fortunate accident, Michael was happy in the intimacy of the two
+sisters. He now dared to aspire to the hand of her whom he had saved,
+and whom he loved with all the intensity of a passionate nature. Thus
+weeks and months rolled on like minutes, and he only awaited the
+delivery of his manumission papers to join the banner of his
+sovereign.
+
+One day--an eventful day, indeed, for him--he received from Eudocia,
+the elder sister, a message, inviting him to meet her in a summer
+house that stood in a small garden connected with the castle. Punctual
+to the hour named, he presented himself before her.
+
+"Michael," said she, extending her hand to him, "I sent for you to
+tell you a secret."
+
+Her voice was so tremulous and broken, that the young man gazed
+earnestly into her face, and saw that she had been weeping, and now
+with difficulty suppressed her tears.
+
+"Nay," said she, smiling feebly; "it will not be a secret long, for I
+must tell it to my father as soon as he returns from court with the
+royal endorsement to your manumission. I am going to leave you all."
+
+"To leave us, lady?"
+
+"Yes; I am going to take the veil."
+
+"You, so beautiful, so young! It cannot be."
+
+"Alas! youth, beauty, are insufficient to secure happiness. The world
+may be a lonely place, even to the young and beautiful; the cloister
+is a still and sacred haven on the road to a better world."
+
+"And what has induced you to take this step? I have not noticed
+hitherto any trace of sorrow or weariness in your countenance."
+
+"You were studying a brighter page--the fair face of my sister. Start
+not, Michael; I have divined your secret. She loves you, Michael; she
+loves you with her whole soul. You will wed her and be happy; while
+I----" She turned away her face to conceal her tears.
+
+The young man heard only the blissful prediction that concerned
+himself; he noted not the pangs of her who uttered it.
+
+"Dearest lady!" he exclaimed, "you have rendered me the happiest of
+men;" and dropping on his knees, he seized her hand and covered it
+with kisses.
+
+"Hark!" said Eudocia, in alarm; "footsteps! We are surprised; I must
+not be seen here!" and with these words she fled.
+
+Michael sprang to his feet. Before him stood the younger daughter of
+Count Alexis, her eyes flashing fire, her whole frame quivering with
+passion. He advanced and took her hand, but she flung it from him
+fiercely.
+
+"Slave!" she exclaimed, "dare you pollute with your vile touch the
+hand of a high-born dame--the daughter of your master?"
+
+"Anna, what means this passion?" cried Michael, in astonishment.
+
+"Silence, slave!" cried the imperious woman. "What ho, there!" she
+added, stamping her foot; "who waits?"
+
+Half a dozen menials sprang to her call.
+
+"Take me this slave to the court yard!" she cried vehemently; "he has
+been guilty of misbehavior. Let him taste the knout; and woe be to you
+if you spare him. Away with him! Rid me of his hateful presence!"
+
+While Michael was subjected to this hateful punishment, the vindictive
+girl, still burning with passion, sought her sister. What passed
+between them may be conjectured from what follows.
+
+Michael, released from the hands of the menials, stood, with swelling
+heart and burning brow, in one of the lofty apartments of the castle.
+He had felt no pain from the lash, but the ignominy of the punishment
+burned in his very soul, consuming the image that had been in his
+inner heart for years. The scales had fallen from his eyes, and he now
+beheld the younger daughter of the count in all the deformity of her
+moral nature--proud, imperious, passionate, and cruel.
+
+A door opened--a female, with dishevelled hair, and a countenance of
+agony, rushed forward and threw herself at his feet, embracing his
+knees convulsively. It was Anna!
+
+"O Michael!" she cried, "forgive me, forgive me! I shall never forgive
+myself for the pain I inflicted upon you."
+
+"I have suffered no pain," replied Michael, coldly. "Or if I did, it
+is the duty of a slave to suffer pain. You reminded me this morning
+that I was still a slave."
+
+"No, no! It is _I_ that am _your_ slave!" cried the lady. "Your
+slave--body and soul. Behold! I kiss your feet in token of submission,
+my lord and master! Michael, I love you--I adore you! I would follow
+you barefoot to the end of the world. Let me kiss your burning wounds;
+and O, forgive--forgive me!"
+
+Michael raised her to her feet, and gazed steadily in her countenance.
+
+"Lady," said he, "I loved you years ago, when, as a boy, I was only
+permitted to gaze on you, as we gaze upon the stars, that we may
+worship, but never possess. It was this high adoration that refined
+and ennobled my nature; that, in the mire of thraldom, taught me to
+aspire--taught me that, though a slave, I was yet a man. Through your
+silent influence, I was enabled to refine my manners, to cultivate my
+mind, and to fit myself for the freedom which bounteous Heaven had in
+store for me."
+
+"Yes, yes!" replied Anna. "You have made yourself all that can render
+a woman happy. There is not a noble in the land who can boast of
+accomplishments like yours; and you are beautiful as a virgin's dream
+of angels."
+
+"These are flattering _words_, lady."
+
+"They come from the heart, Michael."
+
+"You have told me what I am, lady. Now hear what I require in the
+woman I would wed. She must be beautiful, for beauty should ever mate
+with beauty; high born, for the lowly of birth are aspiring, and never
+wed their equals; yet above all, gentle, womanly, kind, forgiving,
+affectionate. No unsexed Semiramis or Zenobia for me."
+
+"I will make myself all that you desire, Michael."
+
+"We cannot change our natures," replied Michael, coldly.
+
+"But you will forgive me?"
+
+"I am not now in a condition to answer you. Smarting with indignation
+I can ill suppress, I cannot command the calmness requisite to reply
+in fit terms to the generous confidence of a high-born lady. Retire to
+your apartment, lady, for your father is expected momently, and I must
+see him first alone."
+
+Anna kissed the hand of the slave, and retired slowly. A few moments
+afterwards the gallop of a horse was heard entering the court yard,
+and this sound was followed by the appearance of Count Alexis, who
+threw himself into the arms of Michael, and pressed him to his heart.
+
+"Joy, joy, Michael!" he exclaimed. "You are now free--as free as air!
+Here are the documents; my slave no longer--my friend always. And as
+soon as you choose to join the service, you can lead a troop of the
+royal cavaliers."
+
+Michael poured out his thanks to his generous master.
+
+"And now," said the count, "to touch upon a matter nearer still to my
+heart. Since the adventure in the forest, I have loved you as a son.
+To make you such in reality would be to crown my old age with
+happiness. My daughters are acknowledged to be beautiful, fitting
+mates for the proudest of the land. I offer you the hand of her you
+can love the best; make your election, and I doubt not her heart will
+second my wishes and yours."
+
+"My noble friend," said Michael, "I accept your offer gratefully. You
+have made me the happiest of men. You will pardon me, I know, when I
+confess that I have dared to raise my eyes to one of your daughters.
+Without your consent the secret should have been hidden forever in my
+own heart, even had it consumed it."
+
+Count Tekeli shook the hand of the young man warmly, and then summoned
+his two daughters. They obeyed promptly. Both were agitated, and bent
+their eyes upon the floor.
+
+"Count Tekeli," said Michael, speaking in a calm, clear voice, "I have
+a word to say to this your younger daughter, the lady Anna."
+
+As her name was uttered, the young girl raised her eyes, inquiringly,
+to the face of the speaker.
+
+"Lady, but now," said Michael, "you solicited my forgiveness on your
+knees."
+
+"What!" cried the count, the blood mounting to his temples; "a
+daughter of mine solicit on her knees forgiveness of one so late my
+more than vassal--my slave! What is the meaning of this?"
+
+"It means," cried Michael, kindling as he spoke, "that this morning,
+during your absence, count,--nay, a half hour before your return,
+this, your younger daughter, in a moment of ill-founded jealousy and
+rage, usurping your virtual rights,--rights you had yourself
+annulled,--doomed me to the knout!--yea, had me scourged by menials in
+the court yard of your castle!"
+
+"How," cried the count, addressing his daughter, "dared you commit
+this infamy on the person of my friend--the savior of your life?"
+
+"I did, I did!" cried Anna, wringing her hands.
+
+"And you asked me to forgive you," said Michael. "You offered me your
+hand, and begged me to accept it. My answer is, Never, never, never!
+The moment you laid the bloody scourge upon my back, you lost your
+hold upon my heart forever! I were less than a man could I forgive
+this outrage on my manhood. I saved your life--you repaid it with the
+lash. It is not the lash that wounds, it is the shame. The one eats
+into the living flesh, the other into the living heart. Were you ten
+times more lovely than you are, you would ever be a monster in my
+eyes."
+
+The tears that coursed freely down the cheeks of the lady Anna ceased
+to fall as Michael ceased to speak. A deep red flush mounted to her
+temples, and her eyes, so lately humid, shot forth glances like those
+of an angry tigress. She turned to the count.
+
+"Father," said she, "will you permit a base-born slave to use such
+language to your daughter?"
+
+"Silence!" said the old man. "His heart is nobler than yours. More
+measured terms could not have passed his lips. I should have despised
+him had he felt and said less. Get thee to thy chamber, and in
+penitence and prayer relieve thy conscience of the sin thou hast
+committed."
+
+The lady Anna retired from the apartment with a haughty air and
+measured step.
+
+"Lady," said Michael, approaching Eudocia, "between your sister and
+myself there is a gulf impassable. If ever I can forgive her, it must
+be when those sweet and tender eyes, that speak a heart all steeped in
+gentleness and love, have smiled upon my hopes, and made me at peace
+with all the world. Dearest Eudocia, will you accept the devotion of
+my heart and life?"
+
+He took her hand; it trembled in his grasp, but was not withdrawn. She
+struggled for composure a moment, and then, resting her head upon his
+shoulder, wept for joy.
+
+The nuptials of Michael and Eudocia were soon celebrated. A brilliant
+assemblage graced the old castle on the occasion; but long before the
+solemnization, the count's younger daughter had fled to a convent to
+conceal her anger and despair.
+
+
+
+
+OBEYING ORDERS.
+
+
+The "oldest inhabitant" perfectly remembers the Widow Trotter, who
+used, many years ago, to inhabit a small wooden house away down in
+Hanover Street, in somewhat close proximity to Salutation Alley. Well,
+this widow was blessed with a son, who, like Goldsmith, and many other
+men distinguished in after life, was the dunce of his class. Numerous
+were the floggings which his stupidity brought upon him, and the road
+to knowledge was with him truly a "wale of tears."
+
+One day he came home, as usual, with red eyes and hands.
+
+"O, you blockhead!" screamed his mother,--she was a bit of a virago,
+Mrs. Trotter was,--"you've ben gettin' another lickin', I know."
+
+"O, yes," replied young Mr. Trotter; "that's one uv the reg'lar
+exercises--lickin' me. 'Arter I've licked Trotter,' sez the master,
+'I'll hear the 'rithmetic class.' But, mother, to change the subject,
+as the criminal said, when he found the judge was getting personal, is
+there enny arrand I can do for you?"
+
+"Yes," grumbled the widow; "only you're so eternal slow about every
+thing you undertake--go get a pitcher of water, and be four years
+about it, will ye?"
+
+Bob Trotter took the pitcher, and wended his way in the direction of
+the street pump; but he hadn't got far when he encountered his
+friend, Joe Buffer, the mate of a vessel, issuing from his house,
+dragging a heavy sea chest after him.
+
+"Come Bob," said Joe, "bear a hand, and help us down to Long Wharf
+with this."
+
+"Well, so I would," answered Bob, "only you see mother sent me arter a
+pitcher o' water."
+
+"What do you care about your mother--she don't care for you? Come
+along."
+
+"Well," said Bob, "first let me hide the pitcher where I can find it
+again."
+
+With these words he stowed away his earthenware under a flight of
+stone steps, and accompanied his friend aboard his ship. The pilot was
+urging the captain to cast off, and take advantage of the tide and
+wind, but the latter was awaiting the arrival of a boy who had shipped
+the day before, wishing no good to his eyes for the delay he had
+occasioned.
+
+At last he turned to Bob, and said,--
+
+"What do you say, youngster, to shipping with me? I'll treat you well,
+and give you ten dollars a month."
+
+"I should like to go," said Bob, hesitatingly. "But my mother----"
+
+"Hang your mother!" interrupted the captain. "She'll be glad to get
+rid of you. Come--will you go?"
+
+"I hain't got no clothes."
+
+"Here's a chestfull. That other chap was just your size; they'll fit
+you to a T."
+
+"I'll go."
+
+"Cast off that line there!" shouted the captain; and the ship fell off
+with the tide, and was soon standing down the bay with a fair wind,
+and every stitch of canvas set. She was bound for the northwest coast,
+_via_ Canton, and back again, which was then called the "double
+voyage," and usually occupied about four years.
+
+In the mean while, the non-appearance of Bob seriously alarmed his
+mother. A night passed, and the town crier was called into requisition
+a week, when she gave him up, had a note read for her in meeting, and
+went into mourning.
+
+Just four years after these occurrences the ship returned to port, and
+Bob and his friend were paid off. The wages of the widow's son
+amounted to just four hundred and eighty dollars, and he found, on
+squaring his accounts with the captain, that his advances had amounted
+to the odd tens, and four hundred dollars clear were the fruits of his
+long cruise.
+
+As he walked in the direction of his mother's house, in company with
+Joe, he scanned with a curious eye the houses, the shops, and the
+people that he passed. Nothing appeared changed; the same signs
+indicated an unchanging hospitality on the part of the same landlords,
+the same lumpers were standing at the same corners--it seemed as if he
+had been gone only a day. With the old sights and sounds, Bob's old
+feelings revived, and he almost dreaded to see, debouching from some
+alley, a detachment of boys sent by his ancient enemy, the
+schoolmaster, to know why he had been playing truant, and to carry him
+back to receive the customary walloping.
+
+When he was quite near home, he said,--
+
+"Joe, I wonder if any body's found that old pitcher."
+
+He stooped down, thrust his arm under the stone steps, and withdrew
+the identical piece of earthenware he had deposited there just four
+years ago.
+
+Having rinsed and filled it at the pump, he walked into his mother's
+house, and found her seated in her accustomed arm chair. She looked
+at him for a minute, recognized him, screamed, and exclaimed,--
+
+"Why, Bob! where _have_ you been? What have you been doing?"
+
+"Gettin' that pitcher o' water," answered Bob, setting it upon the
+table. "I always obey orders--you told me to be four years about it,
+and I was."
+
+
+
+
+THE DEACON'S HORSE.
+
+
+As you turn a corner of the road, passing the base of a huge hill of
+granite all overgrown with ivy and scrub oak, the deacon's house comes
+full in sight. It is a quaint old edifice of wood, whose architecture
+proclaims it as belonging to the ante-revolutionary period. Innocent
+of paint, its dingy shingles and moss-grown roof assimilated with the
+gray tint of the old stone fences and the granite boulders that rise
+from the surrounding pasture land. The upper story projects over the
+lower one, and in the huge double door that gives entrance to the hall
+there are traces of Indian bullets and tomahawks, reminiscences of
+that period when it was used as a blockhouse and served as a fortalice
+to protect the inhabitants of the surrounding district, who fled
+hither for protection from the vengeful steel and lead of the
+aborigines. On one side of the mansion is an extensive apple orchard
+of great antiquity, through which runs a living stream, whose babble
+in the summer solstice, mingled with the hum of insects, is the most
+refreshing sound to which the ear can listen. On the other side is one
+of those old-fashioned wells, whose "old oaken bucket" rises to the
+action of a "sweep." Two immemorial elm trees, in a green old age,
+shadow the trim shaven lawn in front. Opposite the house, on the other
+side of the road, is a vast barn, whose open doors, in the latter part
+of July, afford a glimpse of a compact mass of English hay, destined
+for the sustenance of the cattle in the dreary months of winter. We
+must not forget the huge wood pile, suggestive of a cheerful fireside
+in the long winter evenings.
+
+But where is the deacon's horse? Last year, and for the past twenty
+years preceding, you could hardly pass of a summer evening, without
+noticing an old gray quietly feeding by the roadside, lazily brushing
+off, with his long switch tail, the hungry flies that fastened on his
+flanks. The landscape is nothing without the old horse. The deacon
+reared him on the homestead. When a yearling he used to come regularly
+to the back door and there receive crusts of bread, crumbs of cake,
+and other delicacies, the free gifts of the children to their pet. He
+was the most wonderful colt that ever was--as docile as the house dog.
+When stray poultry trespassed on the grounds, he would lay his little
+ears back, and putting his nose close to the ground, curling up his
+lips and showing his white teeth, drive the marauders from the
+premises with such a "scare," that they would refrain from their
+incursions for a week to come. But he was incapable of injuring a
+living thing.
+
+When old enough for use, he submitted to the discipline of bit and
+bridle without a single opposing effort. And what a fine figure he
+made in harness! How smartly he trotted off to church carrying the
+whole family behind him in a Dearborn wagon! How proud was his
+carriage when he bore the deacon on his back!
+
+The old man once made a long journey on horseback, to visit a brother
+who lived in the northern part of New England. A great portion of the
+way there was only a bridle path to follow through the woods, and this
+was frequently obstructed by fallen trees. When the impediment was
+merely a bare trunk, the gallant gray cleared it gayly at a flying
+leap; when the tree was encumbered with branches, he clambered over
+it like a wild cat. Once the deacon was obliged to dismount, and crawl
+on his hands and knees through the dense branches; the sagacious horse
+imitated his example, and worked his way through like a panther.
+
+But age came upon the good gray. His sight began to fail--his knees to
+falter. His teeth were entirely worn away.
+
+After a bitter struggle the deacon concluded to replace him by a
+younger horse. Life had become a burden to the old family servant, of
+which it was a mercy to relieve him. Yet, even then, the deacon was
+reluctant to give a positive order for his execution.
+
+One day he called his eldest son to him.
+
+"Abijah," said he, "I'm going over to W., to get that colt I was
+speaking about. While I am gone I want you to _dispose_ of the poor
+old gray. I shouldn't like to sell him to any body that would abuse
+him."
+
+He could say no more--but Abijah understood him. When his father had
+gone, he went into the meadow, and dug a deep pit, beside which he
+placed the sods at first removed by the spade. He then carefully
+loaded his rifle and called to the old gray. The poor animal, who was
+accustomed to obey the voice of every member of the family, feebly
+neighed and tottered to the brink of the pit. The young man threw a
+handkerchief over the horse's eyes, and placing the muzzle of the
+rifle to his ear, fired. The poor old horse fell, without a groan,
+into the grave which had been prepared for him. With streaming eyes,
+Abijah threw the earth over the remains of his playmate, and then
+carefully replaced the sod.
+
+When the deacon returned with his fine new horse, he manifested no
+elation at his purchase, nor, though he perceived that the stall was
+empty, did he trust himself to make any inquiries respecting the old
+gray. Only the family noticed, that in the course of the afternoon, in
+wandering through the meadow, he came upon the new-made grave, and
+though the sods had been carefully replaced, he evidently noticed
+traces of the spade, and suspected the cause, for he tried the soil
+with his foot, and was also observed to pass the back of his hand
+across his eyes. But he never alluded to his old servant.
+
+If there be men who can smile at the grief of a family for the loss of
+an animal who has been long endeared to them by service and
+association, be assured that their hearts are not in the right place;
+and that they are individuals who would exhibit a like callousness to
+the loss of human friends.
+
+
+
+
+THE CONTRABANDISTA.
+
+A TALE OF THE PACIFIC COAST.
+
+
+Night was setting in--a clear, starlight night--as a small armed brig
+was working her way into a little bay upon the western coast of
+Mexico. She was a trim-built craft, and not too deeply laden to
+conceal the symmetry of her dark and exquisitely-modelled hull. The
+cleanness of her run, the elegance of her lines, the rake of her
+slender masts, and the cut of her sails, showed her, at a glance, to
+be a Baltimore-built clipper--at the time of which we speak--some
+years ago--the fastest thing upon the ocean. She was working to
+windward against a light breeze, and hence was unable to exhibit any
+thing of her qualities, though a seaman's eye would have decided at a
+glance that she could sail like a witch. The Zanthe, for that was the
+name inscribed in gilt letters on her stern and sideboards, might have
+been a dangerous customer in a brush, for her armament consisted of
+ten brass eighteens, and her crew of sixty picked seamen--an abundance
+of men to work the brig, and serve her batteries with satisfaction and
+credit.
+
+Not to keep the reader any longer in suspense with regard to her
+character and purpose, we will inform him that the Zanthe was a
+smuggler, and for some years had been engaged in the illegal game of
+defrauding the revenue of the Mexican republic. She was commanded by a
+Scotchman named Morris, and her first mate was a Yankee, answering to
+the hail of Pardon G. Simpkins, as gallant a fellow and as good a
+seaman as ever trod a plank. It was her custom to land contraband
+goods at different points upon the coast where lighters were kept
+concealed, and where the merchandise was taken charge of by the
+shore-gang, a numerous and well-appointed body of picked men, mounted
+and armed to the teeth, and provided with a large number of mules for
+transporting the goods into the interior. The merchandise, lightered
+off from the brig, was hidden in the _chaparral_, if it came on shore
+before the mule trains were ready, and it was piled up with
+combustibles, in such a manner that, should the _vigilantes_ surprise
+them in sufficient numbers to effect a seizure, and overcome
+resistance, a match thrown among the booty secured its destruction in
+a few moments. A smoke by day and a fire by night, upon the shore, was
+the signal for the brig to approach and come to anchor.
+
+The Zanthe, as we before said, slowly worked her way to her anchorage.
+One by one, her white sails, on which the last flush of the sunset
+fires had just faded, were all furled, and, her anchors dropped, she
+swung round with the tide, and rode in safety. A Bengola light was
+displayed for a moment from the foretop, and answered by another from
+the shore.
+
+"All right, cap'n," said the mate, walking aft to where Morris was
+standing, near the wheel. "The critters have seen us, and that are
+firework means that there aint no vigilantes round abeout. I spose we
+shall hev the lighters along side airly in the mornin'."
+
+"Yes," said the captain. "I wonder whether Don Martinez is with the
+shore gang."
+
+"Not knowin', can't say," replied the mate. "Most likely he is,
+howsomdever--'cause our cargo is vallable, and he'd be likely to look
+after it."
+
+"You know, Pardon," said the captain, "this is to be our last voyage."
+
+"Edxactly," answered the mate.
+
+"And I hope it will turn out well for the owners. For my part, I'm
+tired of this life. Circumstances induced me to adopt it; but I can't
+say that in my conscience I have ever approved it."
+
+"Why, cap'n, you astonish me!" exclaimed the mate. "You don't mean to
+say that you think it's any harm to cheat the greasers."
+
+"Yes I do," replied the captain, shaking his head. "And I think the
+aggravation of the offence is, that I am an adopted citizen of the
+republic of the stars and stripes. I am engaged in defrauding the
+government of a sister republic."
+
+"A pretty sort er sister republic," replied the mate, disdainfully. "A
+poor, miserable set of thievin', throat-cuttin', monte-playin',
+cattle-stealin', bean-eatin' griffins. If our government had had any
+spunk, we'd have pitched into 'em long ago. And it was only because
+they're weaker than we be, that we haven't licked 'em into spun yarn."
+
+"But suppose, Pardon, we should be (a chance that, thank Heaven, has
+never yet occurred) overhauled by one of their revenue cutters."
+
+"The little Zanthe could walk away from her like a racer from a plough
+horse."
+
+"But, supposing we were surprised, and lay where we couldn't run."
+
+"Cap'n," said Pardon, glancing along the grim batteries of the Zanthe,
+"do you see them are lovely bull dogs? And them are sturdy Jacks
+what's a sittin' on the breeches of the guns? What on airth was they
+made for? A couple of broadsides, starboard and larboard, would settle
+the hash of the smartest revenue cutter that ever dipped her fore foot
+in the water."
+
+"And the after thought would never trouble you, Pardon?"
+
+"Never! 'shelp me, Bob," replied the mate, energetically. "Greasers
+isn't human bein's. Besides, it's all fair play, life for life, and
+the gentleman with the single fluke tail take the loser. Haint they
+set a price on our heads? Eight thousand dollars on your'n, and five
+thousand on mine? I never was worth five thousand down at Portland;
+but if they've marked me up too high, it's their own look out. They'll
+never be called upon to pay it. But this sellin' a fellur's head
+standin', like a lot of firewood, is excessively aggravatin', and gets
+a fellur's mad up. But, hallo, cap'n, here comes a shore boat. I'll
+bet it's Don Martinez."
+
+A row boat, manned by eight Mexicans, with a muffled figure in the
+stern sheets, now pulled out for the brig, and soon lay alongside. On
+being challenged, a preconcerted watchword was given in reply, and the
+oars being shipped, a couple of boat hooks held the boat fast at the
+foot of the starboard side-ladder. This done, the person in the stern
+sheets arose and prepared to ascend the brig's side.
+
+"Petticoats, by thunder!" muttered the mate. "What does this mean,
+cap'n?"
+
+Captain Morris was evidently surprised at the sex of his visitor, but
+he assisted and welcomed her on board with the frank courtesy of a
+seaman. The light of a battle lantern that stood upon the harness
+cask, displayed the dark but handsome features of a young Mexican
+seńorita, whose small and graceful hand, sparkling with rings,
+gathered her silken _rebosa_ around her symmetrical figure, in folds
+that would have enchanted an artist.
+
+"Seńor captain," said she, "I bear you a message from Martinez. He
+bade me tell you to land half your cargo here to-morrow, as before
+agreed upon. The remainder goes to Santa Rosara, fifty miles to the
+northward, where he awaits you with a chosen band."
+
+"Seńorita," replied the captain, with hesitation, "it were ungallant
+to express a doubt. But ours is a perilous business, and on the mere
+word of a stranger--though that stranger be an accomplished lady----"
+
+"O, I come furnished with credentials, seńor," interrupted the lady,
+with a smile; "there is a letter from Martinez."
+
+Captain Morris hastily perused the letter which the lady handed him.
+Its contents vouched for her fidelity, and, intimating that the lady
+was a dear friend of his, and likely to be soon intimately connected
+with him, committed her to the charge of the captain, and requested
+him to bring her on to Santa Rosara on board the brig.
+
+Morris immediately expressed his sense of the honor done him, and
+escorted the seńorita below, where he abandoned his state room and
+cabin to her use. Pardon G. Simpkins walked his watch in great ill
+humor, muttering to himself incessantly.
+
+"What in the blazes keeps these here women folks continually emergin'
+from their aliment and mixin' into other spheres? They're well enough
+ashore, but on soundin's and blue water they beat old Nick. And aboard
+a _contrabandista_, too! It's enough to make a Quaker kick his
+grandmother. Howsomdever, Morris is just soft-headed fool enough to
+like it, and think it all fine fun. I shouldn't wonder if he was ass
+enough to get spliced one of these days, and take his wife to sea. I
+think I see a doggarytype of myself took as mate of a vessel that
+sails with a cap'n's wife aboard."
+
+And, chuckling at this idea, he put an extra quid in his mouth, and
+ruminated in a better frame of mind.
+
+In the morning, Mr. Simpkins turned out betimes to prepare for the
+landing of a portion of the cargo; and he was busied in this duty,
+when an incident occurred that might well have startled a less ready
+and self-possessed man than the mate of the Zanthe.
+
+Suddenly rounding the headland on the north, a cutter, with the
+Mexican flag flying at her mizzen peak, and the muzzles of her guns
+gleaming through the port holes, came in view of the astonished mate.
+She stood into the bay, till within rifle shot of the bow of the
+Zanthe, when she dropped her sails and came to anchor.
+
+As she accomplished this manoeuvre, the mate mustered the crew, run
+out his guns, which were all shotted, and then quietly roused the
+captain and brought him on deck.
+
+"That looks a little wicked, cap'n," said the mate, pointing at the
+revenue cutter.
+
+The captain shook his head.
+
+"Now, cap'n," said the mate, briskly, "just speak the word, and I'll
+give him my starboard battery before the slow-motioned critter fires a
+gun."
+
+"No, no," said the captain; "wait!"
+
+Mr. Simpkins looked fixedly at the captain, thrust his hands deep into
+the pockets of his pea jacket, and sitting down on the breech of a
+gun, whistled Yankee Doodle in such slow time that it sounded like a
+dead march.
+
+In another minute, a barge was lowered from the side of the Mexican
+cutter, and manned with armed sailors, while an officer in uniform
+took his seat in the stern sheets.
+
+The barge pulled alongside, Captain Morris neither hailing nor
+offering to take any action in the premises. Leaving only a boatkeeper
+in the barge, the Mexican officer, followed by his crew, sprang up the
+ladder, and bounding on deck, struck his drawn sword on the capstan,
+and announced the Zanthe as his prize.
+
+"To whom shall I have the honor of surrendering?" asked Captain
+Morris, touching his hat.
+
+"My name," said the officer, glancing from a paper he held in his
+hand, as he spoke, "is Captain Ramon Morena, of the Vengador cutter.
+You, I presume, are Captain Morris, of the Zanthe."
+
+Morris bowed.
+
+"And you are Pardon G. Simpkins, I suppose," said the Mexican,
+addressing the mate.
+
+"Pardon G. Simpkins--five thousand dollars," replied that gentleman.
+
+"Captain Morena," said Morris, "before we proceed to business, do me
+the favor to walk into my cabin. While we are below," he added, "I
+trust your men will be ordered not to maltreat my poor fellows."
+
+The Mexican captain glanced, with some surprise, at the formidable
+array of men upon the deck of the Zanthe, and then, after a few words
+in Spanish to his boat's crew, followed the captain and mate into the
+cabin.
+
+Captain Morena was a very fine looking man of thirty, with magnificent
+hair and mustaches, and wore a very showy uniform. He threw himself
+carelessly upon the transom, and laid his sword upon the cabin table,
+while Morris and the mate seated themselves on camp stools.
+
+"Seńor capitan," said Morris, "I trust, though it be early in the day,
+that you have no objection to take a glass of wine with me."
+
+The Mexican assented to the proposition, and the steward produced a
+bottle, glasses, and cigars.
+
+"Your health, capitan," said Morris, with a courteous smile; "and may
+you ever be as successful as on the present occasion."
+
+"Muchas gracias seńor," replied the Mexican; "you bear the loss of
+your brig very good humoredly. What may she be worth?"
+
+"She cost thirty thousand dollars in Baltimore," replied Morris.
+
+"You must regret to lose her."
+
+"That admits no question, seńor."
+
+"But that is of minor importance, compared with your other loss."
+
+"What loss?"
+
+"The loss of your life. I fear nothing can save you or your friend
+here. Yet, perhaps, intercession may do something. I suppose you would
+prefer being shot to hanging from the yard-arm."
+
+"Decidedly," answered Morris.
+
+"Or working for life on the highway, with a ball and chain, you would
+think preferable to both."
+
+"Cap'n Morris," said the mate, speaking in English, "it strikes me
+that our friend in the hairy face is a leetle grain out in his
+reckoning; 'pears to me, that instead of our bein' in his power, he's
+in ourn. Just say the word, and I'll gin the Vengador a broadside
+that'll sink her in the shiver of a main topsail."
+
+"You are right, Pardon," said the captain, smiling; "the gentleman has
+missed a figure, certainly. Captain Morena," he added, speaking in
+Spanish, "you have made a small mistake; you are _my_ prisoner, sir.
+Nay, start not; you are completely in my power. Dare but to breathe
+another word of menace, or offer to resist me, and the Vengador shall
+go to Davy Jones. Pass me that sword."
+
+Morena, taken by surprise, obeyed.
+
+"Gi' me his toastin' fork, cap'n," said the mate, "and I'll lock it up
+in my state room;" which was done almost as soon as said.
+
+"And now, Captain Morena," said Morris, "just walk on deck and explain
+matters to your people, and then I'll show you how fast a Yankee crew
+and Mexican lightermen can unload a contrabandista."
+
+They adjourned to the deck, and the Mexican captain was compelled to
+remain an inactive witness, while boat load after boat load of
+contraband goods was landed under his own eyes, and the very guns of
+his cutter. When the work was finished, Captain Morris approached
+Morena, and said,--
+
+"Captain, I have a word to say to you. I am going up the coast fifty
+miles, to land the remainder of my cargo at Santa Rosara. Give me your
+word that you will not follow and molest me, that you will not breathe
+a word of what you have seen and heard, and I will restore your sword
+and release you on _parole_."
+
+The revenue captain gave the required pledge, and his sword was
+restored; after which his men were permitted to man the barge.
+
+"And now, captain, one bumper at parting," said the hospitable Morris.
+"The steward has just opened a fresh bottle, and besides I have a
+pleasant surprise for you."
+
+As they entered the cabin, Morena started back and uttered an
+exclamation as his eyes fell on the beautiful face and graceful figure
+of the Mexican seńorita, who had taken her seat at the table.
+
+"Maria!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Yes," replied the lady, with sparkling eyes and heightened color. "I
+have escaped your power. The man who basely sought to coerce my
+inclinations has been baffled, and ere another sun has set, I shall be
+the bride of the smuggler Martinez."
+
+"Malediction!" cried the Mexican.
+
+"Come, come, cap'n," said the mate, "take a horn, and settle your
+proud stomach."
+
+"Never," said the Mexican. "A curse on all of ye!" and he sprang to
+the deck, threw himself into his barge, and was soon aboard of the
+cutter.
+
+As the clipper brig, with all her canvas set, and her larboard tacks
+aboard, bowed gracefully to the freshening breeze, and bowled away
+under the stern of the Mexican cutter, the mate said to the captain,--
+
+"Cap'n, I wish you'd just let me give that fellur a broadside, if it
+was only just to clean the guns, afore I run 'em in."
+
+"No, no," replied the captain, smiling, "honor bright, my boy. We'll
+keep our word to him."
+
+"That's more than he'll do to us," answered the mate, "or I don't know
+the natur of a greaser. One broadside from our starboard battery would
+settle him, and save all future trouble, and make every thing pleasant
+and comfortable on all sides."
+
+But Captain Morris would not listen to reason, and so the guns were
+secured, and the ports closed, and the little Zanthe went bounding on
+her course to Santa Rosara.
+
+She came to anchor in a deep bay which she entered at nightfall, and
+almost immediately a shore boat, under the command of Martinez,
+boarded the brig. The meeting between the smuggler and his bride was
+so affectionate, as to call a tear even into the eye of Mr. Pardon G.
+Simpkins. The smuggler laughed loudly when he heard of the
+discomfiture of Captain Morena, the discarded suitor of the seńorita
+Maria.
+
+The next day all hands were employed in landing the remainder of the
+cargo, and at night a very worthy and accommodating priest came off
+from the shore, and united Martinez and Maria in the bonds of holy
+matrimony. The nuptials were celebrated with great rejoicings and
+revelry, and the fun was kept up till a late hour of the night, when
+the happy couple retired to the cabin.
+
+The first faint streaks of dawn were beginning to appear in the east,
+when the ever vigilant ear of the mate, who never took a wink of sleep
+while the brig was lying on shore, detected the cautious plunge of
+oars, and soon he descried a barge pulling towards the brig.
+
+"Catch a weazle asleep," said the Yankee to himself; "these greasers
+don't know as much as a farrer hen." And without arousing the captain,
+he quietly mustered the crew, and with as little noise as possible,
+the guns were run out upon the starboard side, which the boat was fast
+approaching.
+
+A moment after he hailed. No answer was given, but the light of the
+lanterns flashed on the arms of a large body of men, and the mate
+recognized the figure of the captain of the Vengador in the stern
+sheets.
+
+"Sheer off," shouted the mate, "or by the shade of Gin'ral Jackson,
+I'll blow you all to Davy Jones."
+
+"Pull for your lives," shouted the voice of Morena; and the boat
+bounded towards the brig.
+
+"Fire!" cried the mate.
+
+Crash went the guns! The iron hurtled through the air, and the
+splintering of wood, as the metal struck the barge, was distinctly
+heard amid the groans and shrieks of the vigilantes.
+
+In one moment it was all over. Morris and Martinez rushed to the deck.
+
+"What's the matter, Pardon?" asked the former.
+
+"Nothin', cap'n--cap'n, nothin'," answered the mate. "Only there aint
+quite so many greasers in the world at present, as there was five
+minutes since. Morena broke his parole, and tried to board us by
+surprise, and I gin' him my starboard battery--that's all."
+
+"Then I'm off for blue water!" cried the captain.
+
+"And I for the mountains!" said Martinez. "The mules are all packed
+and the horses saddled. The vigilantes must wear sharp spurs if they
+catch us."
+
+It was a hurried parting--that of the smuggler and his bride with the
+captain and mate of the Zanthe. But they got safely on shore, and the
+whole band effected their escape.
+
+The Zanthe spread her wings, and some days afterwards was crossing the
+equator. She was never known again as a free trader. The captain and
+mate had both "made their piles," and after arriving at the Atlantic
+states retired from sea. Pardon G. Simpkins took up his residence in
+Boston, and during the late war with Mexico, was very prominent in his
+denunciations of that republic, and very liberal in his donations to
+the Massachusetts regiment, to the members of which his parting
+admonition was, to "give them greasers fits."
+
+
+
+
+THE STAGE-STRUCK GENTLEMAN.
+
+
+Few amateurs of the drama have passed through their town lives,
+without having been, at some one period of their career, what is
+called stage struck, afflicted with a maniacal desire to make a "first
+appearance," to be designated in posters as a "YOUNG GENTLEMAN OF
+THIS CITY," in connection with one Mr. Shakspeare, the "author of
+certain plays." The stage-struck youth is easily recognized by certain
+symptoms which manifest themselves at an early stage of the disorder.
+He is apt to pass his hand frequently through his "horrent locks," to
+frown darkly without any possible reason, and to look daggers at his
+landlady when invited to help himself to brown-bread toast. His voice,
+in imitation of the "Boy," the "Great American tragedian," alternates
+between the deep bass of a veteran porker and the mellifluous tenor of
+a "pig's whisper." He is apt to roll his eyes quickly from side to
+side, to gasp and heave his chest most unaccountably. He reads nothing
+of the papers but the theatrical advertisements and critiques. He has
+an acquaintance with two or three fourth-rate stock actors and a scene
+shifter, and is consequently "up" in any amount of professional
+information and slang, which he retails to every one he meets, without
+regard to the taste or time of his auditors. Have you seen the new
+drama of the Parricidal Oysterman? If you have, you must agree with
+him it is the greatest affair old Pel. has ever brought out; if you
+have not, you must submit to his contemptuous pity for your ignorance.
+For a person who passes his evenings in the society of books and
+friends, or in the country, the stage-struck gentleman has the most
+profound contempt. How one can live without nightly inhaling the odor
+of gas and orange peel, is to him a mystery inexplicable. He is aided
+and abetted in his practices by the sympathy and example of other
+stage-struck youths, all "foredoomed their fathers' soul to cross,"
+all loathing their daily avocations for the time being, all spending
+their earnings, or borrowings, or stealings, on bits of pasteboard
+that admit them to their nightly banquet. The stage struck always copy
+the traits of the leading actor of the hour, whoever he may be, and
+grunt and bluster in imitation of "Ned"--meaning Forrest--or quack and
+stutter _ą la_ "Bill"--that is, Macready--as the wind of popular favor
+veers and changes. It is curious, at a representation of the
+"Gladiator," to winnow these young gentlemen from the mass by the lens
+of an opera glass. There you may see the knit brows, the high shirt
+collars, the folded arms, the pursed-up lips, the hats drawn down over
+the eyes, that are the certain indications of the stage-struck
+Forrestians.
+
+If, after the performance, fate and a designing oysterman place you in
+the next box to three or four of these geniuses, you will, unless very
+much of a philosopher, be disgusted, for the time being, with human
+nature. Their paltry imitations, their miserable brayings, their
+misquotations from Shakspeare, their mendacious accounts of interviews
+with the "Boy," will be enough to drive you mad. Some such thing as
+the following will occur:--
+
+_Waiter._ Here are your oysters, _gentlemen_; ("a slight shade of
+irony in the emphasis.")
+
+_Stage-struck Youth, No. 1_, (in a deep guttural tone.) "Let em come
+in--we're armed!"
+
+_Stage-struck Youth, No. 2_, (to waiter.) "Red ruffian, retire!"
+
+_Stage-struck Youth, No. 3_, (to Stage-struck Youth, No. 4.) "How are
+you _now_, Dick?"
+
+_Stage-struck Youth, No. 4._ "Richard's himself again!"
+
+_O, Dii immortales!_ can these things be? In other words, _can_ such
+_animals_ exist?
+
+It has been calculated by a celebrated mathematician, that out of
+every fourteen dozen of these stage-struck young gentlemen, one
+actually makes a first appearance. This event causes an enormous
+flutter in the circle of aspirants from which the promotion takes
+place. As the eventful night approaches, the most active and
+enterprising among them besiege the newspapers with elaborate puffs of
+their _confrčre_, a column long, and are astonished and enraged that
+editors exclude them entirely, or exscissorize them to a dozen lines.
+Of what importance is the foreign news, in comparison with the first
+appearance of Bill Smithy in the arduous character of Hamlet? Has
+Colonel Greene no sympathy with struggling genius? Or is it the result
+of an infernal plot of the actors to put down competition, and sustain
+a professional monopoly?
+
+The stage-struck young gentleman has passed through the fiery ordeal
+of "rehearsals," has been duly pushed and shaken into his "suit of
+sables," glittering with steel bugles, his hands have been adorned
+with black kids, his plumed hat rests upon his brow, his rapier
+dangles at his side. The curtain goes up and he is pushed upon the
+stage. His first appearance is the signal for a thundering round of
+generous applause, in which his faithful fellow-Forrestians are
+leading _claquers_. But the audience soon discover that he is a "guy"
+escaped from the _surveillance_ an anxious mother. The stage-struck
+young gentleman is "goosed." Storms of hisses or bursts of ironical
+applause greet every sentence that he utters, and the curtain finally
+falls on his disgrace. This generally cures the disease of which we
+have been speaking. A night of agony, a week of pain, and the young
+gentleman, disenchanted and disenthralled, looks back upon his
+temporary mania with feelings of humiliation and surprise, cuts his
+aiders and abettors, and betakes himself seriously to the rational
+business of life.
+
+But there are some stage-struck gentlemen whom nothing can convince of
+their total unfitness for the stage. You may hiss them night after
+night, you may present them with bouquets of carrots, and wreaths of
+cabbage leaves and onions, and leather medals, and services of tin
+plate; and if you find them "insensible to kindness," you may try
+brickbats--but in vain. They will cling to the stage for life--living,
+or rather starving, as _attachés_ to some theatre, the signal for
+disturbance whenever they present themselves; detected by the lynx
+eyes of the public, whether disguised as Roman citizens or Neapolitan
+brigands, and severely punished for incompetency by heaped-up insult
+and abuse. These men live and die miserably; yet, doubtless, their
+lives are checkered with rays of hope; they regard themselves as
+martyrs, and die with the secret consciousness that they have "acted
+well their parts."
+
+
+
+
+THE DIAMOND STAR;
+
+OR,
+
+THE ENGLISHMAN'S ADVENTURE.
+
+A STORY OF VALENCIA.
+
+
+In a fine summer night in the latter half of the seventeenth century,
+(the day and year are immaterial,) Clarence Landon, a handsome and
+high-spirited young Englishman, who had been passing some time in the
+south of Spain, was standing on the banks of the Guadalquiver, in the
+environs of the ancient city of Valencia, watching with anxious eyes
+the fading sails of a small felucca, just visible in the golden rays
+of the rising moon, as, catching a breath of the freshening western
+breeze, they bore the light craft out upon the blue bosom of the
+Mediterranean. Though the scene was one of surpassing beauty, though
+the air was balmy, and came to his brow laden with the fragrance of
+the orange, the myrtle, and the rose, the expression of the young
+man's face was melancholy in the extreme.
+
+"Too late!" he muttered to himself; "too late! It is hard, after
+having ventured so much for them, that I should have been baffled in
+my attempt to escape with them. However, they are safe and happy. If
+this breeze holds, they will soon pass Cape St. Martin. Dear Estella,
+how I value this pledge of your friendship and gratitude."
+
+And the young man, after raising to his lips a small diamond star,
+attached to a golden chain, deposited the trinket in his bosom, and
+then, with a parting glance at the distant vessel, turned homewards in
+the direction of the city gates.
+
+Absorbed in his own reflections, he did not notice that his footsteps
+were dogged by a tall figure, muffled in a black cloak, which pursued
+him in the moonlight, like his shadow, and left him only when he
+entered his _posada_.
+
+Landon spent some time in his room in reading and arranging letters
+and papers; and when the clock of a neighboring cathedral sounded the
+hour of eleven, threw himself upon his bed without undressing, and was
+soon asleep. From a disturbed and unrefreshing slumber, crowded with
+vexatious visions, he was suddenly and rudely roused by a rough hand
+laid upon his shoulder. He started upright in bed, and gazed around
+him with astonishment. His chamber was filled by half a dozen
+sinister-looking men, robed entirely in black, in whom he recognized,
+not without a shudder, the dreaded familiars of the Holy Office, the
+officials of the Inquisitorial Tribune. His first impulse was to grope
+for his arms; but his sword and pistols had been removed. A rough
+voice bade him arise and follow, and he had no choice but to obey the
+mandate. Preceded and followed by the familiars, who were all armed,
+as he judged by the clash of steel that attended each footstep, though
+no weapons were apparent, he descended the staircase, came out upon
+the street, and was conducted through many a winding lane and passage
+to a low-browed arch, which opened into the basement story of a huge
+embattled building, that rose like a fortress before him. The
+conductor of the band halted here, and knocking thrice upon an oaken
+door, studded with huge iron nails, it was opened silently, and the
+party entered a dark, subterranean passage of stone, lighted only by
+a smoky cresset lamp swinging in a recess.
+
+After passing through this corridor, Landon was conducted into a huge
+vaulted hall, dimly illuminated by the branches of an iron chandelier,
+by whose light he discovered in front of him a raised platform, on
+which were seated three men, robed in black, while before them, at a
+table, sat two others, similarly attired, with writing implements
+before them. On the platform was planted a huge banner, the blazon on
+the folds of which was a wooden cross, flanked by a branch of olive
+and a naked sword, the motto being, "_Exurge, Domine, et judica causam
+tuam._" _Rise, Lord, and judge thy cause._ It wanted neither this
+formidable standard, nor the implements of torture scattered around,
+to convince the young Englishman that he stood in the halls of the
+Inquisition.
+
+After being permitted to stand some time before the judges, that his
+mind might be impressed with the terrors of the place, the principal
+Inquisitor addressed him, demanding his name.
+
+"Clarence Landon," was the reply.
+
+"Your birthplace?"
+
+"London, England."
+
+"Your age?"
+
+"Twenty-five years."
+
+"Occupation?"
+
+"I am a gentleman of fortune, with no pursuit but that of knowledge
+and pleasure."
+
+"You are accused," said the judge, "of having aided and abetted a
+countryman of yours, named Walter Hamilton, in seducing and carrying
+off Estella Martinez, a lady of a noble house, and a sister of St.
+Ursula. How say you, guilty or not guilty?"
+
+"I am not guilty--I am not capable of the infamy with which you charge
+me."
+
+"He refuses to confess," said the judge, turning to a familiar, the
+sworn tormentor. "We must try the question. Sanchez, is the rack
+prepared?"
+
+The man addressed was a brawny, muscular ruffian, with a livid and
+forbidding countenance, whose dark eyes sparkled with pleasure as he
+bowed assent to the interrogation.
+
+"Hold!" cried Landon. "The truth can no longer harm any but myself;
+and though you may inflict death upon me, you shall not enjoy the
+fiendish satisfaction of mutilating my limbs with your horrid
+enginery. I did aid Hamilton, not indeed in ruining an injured maiden,
+but in rescuing from the thraldom she abhorred a lovely lady whom
+Providence formed to make the happiness of an honorable man. By this
+time Estella is a happy bride."
+
+"Her joys will be shortened," said the inquisitor, frowning. "They
+cannot long elude the power of Rodrigo d'Almonte, at once judge of the
+Holy Office and governor of Valencia."
+
+"Moderate your transports, governor," replied the Englishman, boldly;
+"the fugitives are beyond your reach. This very night a swift-winged
+felucca bore them away from these accursed shores, to a land of
+liberty and happiness."
+
+The brow of Rodrigo grew black as night.
+
+"Insolent!" he answered; "you have outraged and set at naught the
+authority of church and state; your life shall pay the forfeit."
+
+"Be it so," replied Landon, folding his arms; "but let me tell you,
+that for every drop of blood shed, my country will demand a life. The
+cross of St. George protects the meanest subject of the English
+crown."
+
+Rodrigo d'Almonte made no reply, but waving his hand, Landon was
+removed from the tribunal and thrown into a dungeon on the same floor
+with the hall of torture.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Towards the close of a sultry summer day, the narrow streets of
+Valencia wore an aspect of unusual activity and life, filled, as they
+were, with representatives of every class of citizens. The tide of
+human beings seemed to be setting in one direction, towards a plaza,
+or square, in the centre. The Alameda was deserted by its fashionable
+promenaders; and young and old--all, indeed, who were not
+bedridden--were at length congregated in the square. The attraction
+was soon explained; for in the centre of the plaza was seen a lofty
+platform of wood, on which was erected a stout stake or pillar, to
+which was affixed an iron chain and ring. Around this were heaped, to
+the height of several feet, huge fagots of dry wood, ready for the
+torch. A large body of men-at-arms kept the crowd back from a large
+open space around the platform. These preparations were made, so the
+popular rumor ran, for the punishment of a young Englishman, who had
+aided a Spanish nun in the violation of her vows.
+
+The numerous bells of the city were tolling heavily; and at length,
+after the patience of the populace had been nearly exhausted, the head
+of a column of men, marching in slow time, was seen to enter upon the
+plaza. First came the governor's guard, their steel caps and cuirasses
+and halberds polished like silver. After these, walked the officials
+of the Inquisition, and some friars of the order of St. Dominic,
+surrounding the unfortunate Landon, who wore the _corazo_, or pointed
+cap, upon his head, and the _san benito_, a robe painted all over
+with flames and devils, typifying the awful fate which awaited him. He
+ascended the scaffold with a firm step, while the _cortége_ ranged
+themselves around it; and the governor of Valencia, mounted on a
+splendid barbed charger, and wearing his inquisitorial robes over his
+military uniform, rode into the square, amid the _vivas_ of the crowd
+and the presented arms of the troops, and made a sign for the ceremony
+to proceed.
+
+As an officer, appointed for the purpose, was about to read the
+sentence, a great tumult arose in the square, and attracted the
+attention of all the spectators.
+
+"What is the meaning of this, Alvarez?" asked the governor, addressing
+one of his lieutenants.
+
+"The people, please your excellency, have got hold of Isaac, the rich
+Jew, and insist on his beholding the august spectacle of the _auto da
+fe_."
+
+"The unbelieving dog has never liked these brave shows," answered the
+governor, with a grim smile, "since his well-beloved brother,
+Issachar, expiated his heresy on this spot in the great auto, when we
+burned twenty of his tribe before the king. Beshrew my heart! he
+abuses my clemency in permitting him to hold house and gold here in
+Valencia. He shall behold the execution! Make room there, and drag him
+into the heart of the hollow square."
+
+The cruel order was obeyed; and the old Jew, who was a mild and
+venerable-looking man, was forced into the centre of the plaza, whence
+he could have a full view of the horrid scene about to be enacted.
+
+But the indignities to which he had been subjected aroused a latent
+spark of fire even in the soul of the aged Hebrew. He lifted up his
+voice and cried aloud:--
+
+"Spaniards! Christians! are ye men, or are ye brutes? Fear ye not the
+vengeance of Heaven, when ye enact deeds that would make the savage
+blush? Think ye that Heaven will long withhold its vengeance from
+atrocities that cry aloud to it night and day--that the innocent blood
+ye have spilt will sink, unavenged, into the earth? Fear and tremble,
+for the hour of wrath and woe is at hand!"
+
+The energy and eloquence with which he spoke sent a strange thrill of
+terror through the crowd. The governor, alone insensible to fear,
+shouted from his saddle:--
+
+"Tremble for yourself, Isaac! for, by the rood! if you dare question
+the justice of the Holy Office, you shall share the fate of yonder
+prisoner."
+
+"I fear not the wrath of man," replied the Jew; "fear you the wrath of
+Heaven!"
+
+And at this moment, as if in vindication of his words, a heavy clap of
+thunder, that shook the city like the discharge of a park of
+artillery, broke upon the ear; and one of those sudden storms, so
+common in southerly latitudes, rolled up its dark masses of clouds,
+and the light of day was suddenly quenched, as in an eclipse. Vivid
+flashes of lightning lit the upturned and terror-stricken faces of the
+cowering multitude. At the same time, the wind howled fiercely through
+the streets that debouched upon the plaza, and tore the plumage that
+waved and tossed upon the helmets of the soldiery.
+
+"Executioner!" roared the governor, whose high, stern tones of
+military command were heard above the roar of the sudden tornado, "do
+your duty! Set fire to the fagots!"
+
+The order was obeyed; the torch was applied, and already a quivering,
+lurid flame shot up at the feet of the luckless Landon, when the storm
+burst forth with ungovernable fury. The scaffolding was blown down,
+the fragments scattered, and the rain, descending in torrents,
+instantly quenched both torch and fagot. The vast crowd was thrown
+into utter confusion; the terrified horses of the cavalry plunged
+madly among the footmen; hundreds fell and were trampled under foot;
+and prayers, shrieks, and imprecations filled the darkened air.
+
+Landon was unhurt amid the wreck of the sacrificial pyre. A ray of
+hope shot up in his heart. Scrambling out of the ruins, unobserved and
+unpursued, he fled down the nearest lane with the utmost speed.
+Anxious to obtain shelter, he, without even a thought, climbed a
+garden wall; once within which he was safe, for a moment, from
+pursuit. Rushing through a shaded alley of the garden, he found
+himself at the door of a large and splendid house. Almost without a
+hope of finding it yield, he tried the handle, and the door opened.
+Silently and swiftly he ascended a large, stone staircase, and took
+refuge in the first apartment which he found before him. A beautiful
+young girl, the only occupant of the room, starting at the fearful
+apparition of a stranger flying for his life, in the robe of the _san
+benito_, fell upon her knees and crossed herself repeatedly, as her
+dark eyes were fixed in terror on the intruder.
+
+"Lady!" cried Landon, "for the love of that Being whom we both
+worship, though in a different form, take pity on a wretched
+fellow-being. Save me! save me!"
+
+"You are accursed and condemned," she answered, rising and recoiling.
+
+"I am! I am!--but you know my offence. If you ever loved yourself, you
+know how to pardon it. Think of the horrid fate which awaits me, if
+you are pitiless."
+
+The lady paused and reflected, Landon watching the expression of her
+countenance with the most intense anxiety. At length her brow cleared
+up; there was an expression of sweetness about her rosy lips that
+revived hope in the heart of the fugitive.
+
+"I will save you if I can," she answered.
+
+"Heaven's best blessing on you for the word!" exclaimed the
+Englishman.
+
+"But you have come to a dangerous place for shelter and safety," she
+continued, sadly. "Do you know whose house this is? It is the dwelling
+of my father, Don Rodrigo d'Almonte, the governor of Valencia."
+
+Landon started back in terror, but he instantly recovered from that
+feeling.
+
+"You, then," he said, "are Donna Florinda, in praise of whose beauty
+and goodness all Valencia is eloquent. I feel that I am safe in your
+hands."
+
+"I will never betray you," said the lady. "You are safe here. It is my
+bed chamber," she continued, blushing; "but I resign it to you--sure,
+from your countenance, that you are a cavalier of honor, who will
+never give me cause to repent of the step."
+
+"Be sure of that."
+
+"Swear it," she said, "upon this trinket, which my father took from
+your person in the hall of the Inquisition."
+
+Landon took from Florinda's hand the diamond star given him by
+Estella, and thus mysteriously restored, and pressed it to his lips.
+
+"By this talisman," he said, "by this token, which I prize so highly,
+I pledge myself not to abuse your confidence, but to repay the
+priceless service you render me by a life of gratitude."
+
+"You may remain here, then, for the present," said Florinda, "till I
+can think what can be done for you."
+
+"If I can only make my way to the house of the English ambassador,"
+replied Landon, "I think I can count upon my safety."
+
+Donna Florinda, after lighting a lamp, (for it was now nightfall,)
+and setting upon a table some wine and fruit, left the chamber,
+locking the door behind her.
+
+Descending to the garden, she went directly to a secluded arbor,
+embowered in foliage, at no great distance from the house.
+
+"Cesareo!" she whispered.
+
+A young cavalier, who was concealed in the arbor, instantly advanced,
+and clasped her in his arms.
+
+"Dear Florinda," he cried, "I feared that you would disappoint me. But
+we have yet some happy moments to pass together."
+
+"Not a moment, Cesareo," replied the lady; "my father will soon
+return. I come to beg you to retire instantly, and await another
+opportunity of meeting."
+
+"You are anxious to get rid of me!" replied the cavalier.
+
+"Not so; my father will soon return, and he will be sure to inquire
+for me directly."
+
+"Well, then," said the lover, "if it must be so, go you to the house,
+and leave me the solitary pleasure of watching the window of the room
+gladdened by your presence."
+
+"No, no, Cesareo," cried Florinda, in terror, "that must not be."
+
+As she said this, her eyes were instinctively turned to the window of
+her room, and Cesareo's followed the same direction. The shadow of
+Landon's figure, as it passed between the lamp and the window, was
+seen defined distinctly on the curtain.
+
+"By Heaven!" cried Cesareo, "there is a man in your bed chamber!"
+
+"My father!" said Florinda.
+
+"You told me in your last breath that he had not returned. You are
+playing me false, Florinda. You have a lover, and a favored one."
+
+"No, no!" cried the agonized girl. "It is nothing, believe me--trust
+not appearances. I will explain all."
+
+But at this moment the distant clang of trumpets and kettledrums was
+heard, announcing the governor's return.
+
+"I must begone!" cried Florinda; "believe me, I am faithful;" and with
+these words she fled into the house.
+
+"The dream is over!" said Cesareo. "But I will have vengeance on my
+rival;" and he left the garden, muttering curses, and grasping the
+cross hilt of his sword.
+
+Florinda flew to her chamber.
+
+"Fly!" she cried to Landon. "I have sheltered you at the risk of my
+reputation--my father is returning, and you must leave this house. A
+jealous lover may denounce me, and both of us be ruined forever.
+Farewell; climb the wall at the back of the garden, and take refuge in
+the next house. I will still watch over you."
+
+Landon obeyed, and made his escape from the governor's garden just as
+Don Rodrigo was entering his court yard. He crossed another small
+garden, and entered a small house at the extremity, the door of which
+was unbarred, and again found refuge in a room on the first floor,
+where he concealed himself behind a screen.
+
+He had not been here long before he heard footsteps entering the room,
+and the voices of two persons in conversation, one of whom was
+evidently a female, and the other an old man.
+
+"Dear father!" said the female, "I am rejoiced to see that you are
+returned. You never go forth in this city that you do not leave me
+trembling for your safety."
+
+"I have passed through much peril, Miriam," replied the man. "Snares
+and violence have beset my path. I went to carry the gold and the
+silver I had promised to Jacob, the goldsmith, when, lo! I was beset
+by the ungodly rabble."
+
+"Dear father!"
+
+"Yea! and they dragged me to their place of skulls--even to their
+accursed Golgotha, where the blood of mine only brother was drunken by
+the ravening flames, and where thirty of our brethren perished because
+they believed in the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob."
+
+"And did they force you to witness the _auto da fe_?"
+
+"They brought me to the place, Miriam--but there the spirit of
+prophecy descended upon me, and I lifted up my voice and denounced
+their abominations, even as the prophet of old did the iniquities of
+the Egyptian king. And lo! Miriam, there was a miracle wrought. The
+voice of Heaven spake in thunder to rebuke their impious
+bloodthirstiness. The floodgates of heaven were opened, and the rain
+descended in mighty torrents, and quenched the Moloch fires kindled by
+the Christians. And a great wind arose, and the scaffold was
+destroyed, and the goodly youth that stood thereupon was saved from
+the death of fire as the multitude were scattered."
+
+"And lives he, father?"
+
+"I fear not," answered the old man, sadly. "For if he were not crushed
+by the falling scaffold, yet verily the cruel swords of the troopers
+and the men-at-arms must have sought out his young life."
+
+At this moment, Landon stepped from his concealment.
+
+"No, my friends," said he, "I yet live to thank Heaven for its
+providential care. I have even found a friend in the household of my
+bitter enemy, for Donna Florinda d'Almonte sheltered me, and commended
+me to your roof."
+
+He now had time to scan the persons of his hosts. The elder, Isaac,
+the Jew, was, as we described him on his appearance in the plaza, a
+man of venerable appearance, with a mild and noble countenance,
+wearing the long beard and flowing robes of his race. His daughter,
+Miriam, had the commanding beauty, the dark eyes, the flowing hair,
+and the bold features of the daughters of Israel. She was richly clad
+in robes of silk, and many a jewel of price gleamed in the raven
+tresses of her hair.
+
+"Thou art safe beneath this roof," said the Hebrew, "for Donna
+Florinda, though the daughter of the man of tiger blood, hath yet
+befriended us and ours, and for her sake as well as for thine, thou
+art welcome."
+
+Landon thanked his new friends for their hospitable pledges.
+
+"I would fain," said the old Hebrew, "give thee garments more fitting
+than the accursed robe that wraps thy youthful limbs. But of a truth I
+have none of Spanish fashion, and the Jewish gabardine is almost as
+fatal to the wearer as the robe of the _san benito_."
+
+"Here comes Reuben," said Miriam. "Welcome home, dear brother."
+
+A handsome youth of sixteen entered at this moment, and saluted his
+father, his sister, and the stranger. He bore a bundle in his arms.
+
+"I was charged," he said, "by the lady Florinda, to bear this packet
+to the stranger I should find here. It contains a Spanish dress. She
+bid me say," he continued, addressing Landon, "that when you have put
+on these habiliments, you can repair with me to the governor's garden
+at midnight. The waiting maid and confidant will conduct you through
+the house to the street, and once there you can make your way to the
+English ambassador's."
+
+After thanking the youthful messenger, Landon was shown to an
+apartment, where he was left alone to change his dress. Donna Florinda
+had supplied him with a plain but handsome cavalier's suit, including
+mantle, hat, and plume, and in addition to these, a good sword. Landon
+hailed this latter gift with joy, and buckled the belt with trembling
+eagerness. He drew the weapon, and found it to be a Toledo blade of
+the best temper. He kissed the sword with ecstasy.
+
+"Welcome!" he cried, "old friend! With you I can cut through odds, and
+at least sell my life dearly, if I fall again into the hands of the
+Philistines."
+
+Returning to his new friends, he sat down to a hearty meal which they
+had prepared for him, and to which he did an Englishman's justice. At
+the hour of twelve, his young friend Reuben signified his readiness to
+accompany him on his adventure.
+
+"Farewell!" he cried; "I owe you a debt that nothing can repay. But
+believe me that your kindness will always dwell in the heart of
+Clarence Landon."
+
+Reuben and the Englishman were soon in the governor's garden. It was
+pitch dark, and they advanced cautiously, groping their way. All at
+once Landon stumbled against some person.
+
+"Is it you, Reuben?" said he, in a low tone.
+
+But he was instantly grasped by the throat. Dealing his unknown
+assailant a blow with his clinched hand, which made him release his
+hold, the Englishman instantly drew his sword and threw himself on
+guard. His steel was crossed by another blade, and a fierce encounter
+ensued, the combatants being practised swordsmen, and guided, in the
+dark, by what swordsmen term the "perception of the blade." Reuben had
+made his escape, and gone to inform his father of this new disaster.
+The struggle was brief, for the antagonist of Landon, closing at the
+peril of his life, and being a man of herculean strength, wrested the
+sword from the Englishman's grasp, and held him at his mercy.
+
+"Now, dog!" whispered the victor, "have you any thing to offer why I
+should not take your life as a minion of the tyrant Rodrigo?"
+
+"I scorn to ask my life of an unknown assassin," replied Landon; "but
+I am no minion of Rodrigo's, and I was even now seeking to escape his
+clutches."
+
+"If there was light here," said the stranger, "I could see whether you
+lied, friend, by your looks. You may be palming off a tale upon me.
+How did you propose to escape Rodrigo?"
+
+"By making my way through his house," answered Landon.
+
+"A likely tale. How are you to gain access to his house?"
+
+"A waiting maid was to let me in."
+
+"Well, I'll test your veracity. I have your life in my hands. You are
+unarmed; I have rapier and dagger. The experiment costs me nothing."
+
+"It would be idle in me to interrogate you," said Landon; "it would be
+idle to ask who you are."
+
+"I will answer you frankly," replied the stranger; "I am one of those
+freebooters whose fortunes are their swords. If I were in Rodrigo's
+power, my life would not be worth five minutes' purchase; and yet I am
+seeking him to-night."
+
+"You speak in riddles."
+
+"Perhaps; but be silent now, if you value your life, and follow me."
+
+The stranger, still retaining a firm grasp upon the luckless Landon,
+approached a door which led into the governor's house, showing, in
+their progress, a perfect acquaintance with the labyrinthian alleys of
+the garden. They halted, and a female voice spoke in a whisper,
+saying, "Here's the key."
+
+The stranger grasped it, and dragging Landon into the house, instantly
+locked the door behind him. A dark lantern was placed on the floor of
+the corridor; the stranger told Landon to take this up, and precede
+him up stairs. Landon obeyed, the stranger following close behind, and
+giving him whispered directions as to his course.
+
+Having reached a certain door, the stranger took the light and entered
+a chamber, followed by the wondering Englishman. The walls of the room
+were heavily draped, and upon a huge bed the governor of Valencia was
+reclining, buried in a deep slumber.
+
+"He sleeps!" whispered the stranger in the ear of Landon; "he sleeps,
+as if he had never shed blood--as if the head of my brother had never
+fallen on the block by the hand of his bloody executioner. He will
+soon sleep sounder."
+
+"What mean you?" asked Landon.
+
+"Wait and see," was the reply.
+
+The stranger cautiously lifted the light in his left hand, bending
+over the sleeper, while with his right he drew a broad, sharp poniard
+from his belt, and raised it in the act to strike. But just as it was
+descending, Landon caught the assassin's arm, and shouted in his
+loudest tones,--
+
+"Don Rodrigo, wake!"
+
+"Baffled!" cried the ruffian, with an oath. "You shall pay with your
+life for interfering."
+
+The governor sprang from his bed in time to witness the deadly
+struggle between Landon and the midnight assassin. It was short and
+decisive, for as the robber was aiming a blow at his antagonist, the
+latter changed the direction, and it was buried to the hilt in his
+own heart. He fell, and died without a groan. The noise of the
+struggle had aroused the household, and the servants came pouring into
+the room with lights, accompanied by Donna Florinda, who was agonized
+with terror.
+
+"Dear father!" she cried, rushing into the governor's arms, "what does
+this mean?"
+
+"It means," replied Don Rodrigo, "that this ruffian, who had sworn to
+take my life because I had condemned his brother to death for manifold
+misdeeds, has been slain in the attempt by this young man."
+
+"And do you recognize your generous savior?" exclaimed the daughter.
+"Behold! it is the young Englishman you condemned to perish at the
+stake. O father!" And she explained the manner in which Landon had
+been enabled to save the governor's life.
+
+"Young man," said the governor, addressing Landon with deep emotion,
+"a mightier Power than the hand of man is visible in this. For the
+life you have saved I will repay you in the same manner. I insure you
+a full and free pardon, and you shall not have it to say that Don
+Rodrigo d'Almonte, bad as he has been represented, was a monster of
+ingratitude."
+
+And he kept his word. Landon soon after set sail for England, in
+company with the Hebrew family who had sheltered him, and there, in
+due time, was united to the lovely Miriam, with whose beauty he had
+been impressed on first sight. In England, he rejoined Hamilton and
+his Spanish bride, to secure whose happiness he had perilled his own
+life; and he always preserved Estella's diamond star as a memorial of
+his adventures in Valencia. Soon after his arrival he received a
+letter from Donna Florinda, announcing her marriage to Cesareo, whose
+jealousy had been so signally excited by Landon's shadow on the
+window curtain. When Don Rodrigo died, he was buried with all the
+honors due to a soldier, a governor, and an eminent member of that
+mild and benevolent institution, the Spanish Inquisition.
+
+
+
+
+THE GAME OF CHANCE.
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+At nightfall, on an autumnal evening, when the stars were just
+beginning to twinkle overhead like diamonds on a canopy of azure, two
+young men were standing together, engaged in conversation on the steps
+of the Black Eagle, a fashionable hotel in one of the principal
+streets of the gay and celebrated city of Vienna. One of them wore the
+rich uniform of an Austrian hussar; the other was clad in the civic
+costume of a gentleman.
+
+"So, all is completed at the ministry of war, except the signature of
+the commission, and the payment of the purchase money?" said the
+soldier.
+
+"Exactly so."
+
+"And to-morrow, then," continued the hussar, "I am to congratulate you
+on the command of a company, and salute you as Captain Ernest
+Walstein."
+
+The last speaker was Captain Christian Steinfort, an officer who had
+seen some two years' service.
+
+"Ah! my boy!" continued he, twirling his jet black mustache, "your
+uniform will be a passport to the smiles of the fair. But you already
+seem to have made your way to the good graces of Madame Von Berlingen,
+the rich widow who resides at this hotel."
+
+"Bah! she is forty," answered Ernest, carelessly.
+
+"But in fine preservation, and a beauty for all that," said Captain
+Steinfort. "The Baron Von Dangerfeld was desperately in love with her;
+but within a few days, the widow seems rather to have cut him. You are
+the happy man, after all."
+
+"Undeceive yourself, my dear Christian," said Ernest, blushing; "I
+have only flirted with the handsome widow. My hand is already engaged
+to a charming girl, Meena Altenburg, the playmate of my infancy,
+adopted and brought up by my good father. I am to marry her as soon as
+I get my company."
+
+"And what is to support you, Captain Ernest?"
+
+"My pay, of course, and the income of the moderate dowry my father,
+who is well enough off for a farmer, proposes to give his favorite.
+So, you see my lot in life is settled."
+
+"Precisely so," replied the captain. "But since you are free this
+evening, I engage you to pass it with me. Have you got any money about
+you?"
+
+"A good deal. Besides the price of my company, which is safely stowed
+away in bank notes in this breast pocket, I have a handful of ducats
+about me, with which I propose purchasing some trinkets for my bride.
+But I have a gold piece or two that I can spare, if----"
+
+"Poh! poh! I'm well enough provided," answered the captain. "You know
+this is pay day. Come along."
+
+"But whither?"
+
+"You shall see."
+
+With these words, the captain thrust his arm within that of his
+companion, and the pair walked off at a rapid rate. After passing
+through several streets, Steinfort halted, and rang at the door of a
+stately mansion. It was opened by a servant in handsome livery, and
+the young gentlemen entered and went up stairs.
+
+Walstein soon found himself in a scene very different from any of
+which he had ever dreamed of in his rustic and simple life upon his
+father's farm. Around a large table, covered with cloth, were seated
+more than a dozen persons of different ages, all so intent upon what
+was going forward, that the captain and his friend took their seats
+unnoticed. At the head of the table sat a man in a gray wig, with a
+pair of green spectacles upon his nose, before whom lay a pile of
+gold, and who was busily engaged in paying and receiving money, and in
+giving an impetus to a small ivory ball, which spun at intervals its
+appointed course. Walstein soon learned that this was a
+_rouge-et-noir_ table. The gentleman in the gray wig was the banker.
+
+"Make your game, gentlemen," said this individual, "while the ball
+spins. Your luck's as good as mine. It's all luck, gentlemen, at
+rouge-et-noir. Rouge-et-noir, gentlemen, the finest in all the world.
+Black wins; it's yours, sir--twenty ducats, and you've doubled it.
+Make your game--black or red."
+
+"Try your fortune, Ernest," said the captain. Ernest mechanically put
+down a few ducats on the red.
+
+"Red wins," said the banker, in the same monotonous tone. "Make your
+game, gentlemen, while the ball rolls."
+
+Why need we follow the fortunes of Ernest on this fatal evening, as he
+yielded, step by step, to the seduction to which he was now exposed
+for the first time in his life? Long after Steinfort left the gambling
+house, he continued to play. His luck turned. He had soon lost all his
+winnings, and the money set apart for his bridal presents. Still the
+ball rolled, and he continued to stake. He had broken the package of
+bank notes, the money he had received from his father for the
+purchase of his commission; and though he saw bill after bill swept
+away before his eyes, he continued to play, in the desperate hope of
+winning back his losses. At length his last ducat was gone. He rose
+and left the room, the last words ringing in his ears being,--
+
+"Make your game, gentlemen, while the ball rolls."
+
+Despairing and heart-stricken, the young man sought his hotel and his
+chamber. On the staircase he encountered Madame Von Berlingen, but he
+saw her not. His eyes were glazed. He did not notice or return her
+salutation. He threw himself upon his bed without undressing, and
+towards morning fell into an unrefreshing and dream-peopled slumber.
+
+When he arose, late the next day, he looked at himself in the glass,
+but scarcely recognized his own face, so changed was he by the mental
+agonies he had undergone. When he had paid some little attention to
+his toilet, he received a message from Madame Von Berlingen,
+requesting the favor of an interview in her apartments. He
+mechanically obeyed the summons, though ill fitted to sustain a
+conversation with a lady.
+
+The widow requested him to be seated.
+
+"Mr. Walstein," said she, with a smile, "you are growing very
+ungallant. I met you last night upon the staircase; but though I spoke
+to you, you had not a word or a nod for me."
+
+"Last night, madam," answered the unfortunate young man, "I was beside
+myself. O madam, if you knew all!"
+
+"I do know all," replied the lady.
+
+"What! that I had been gambling--that I had thrown away--yes, those
+are the words--every ducat of the money my poor father furnished me
+with to purchase my commission?"
+
+"Yes, I know all that. But the loss is not irreparable."
+
+"Pardon me, madam. My father, though reputed wealthy, is unable to
+furnish me with a similar sum, even if I were base enough to accept it
+at his hands."
+
+"But if some friend were to step forward."
+
+"Alas! I know none."
+
+"Mr. Walstein," said the lady, "I am rich. A loan of the requisite
+amount would not affect me in the least."
+
+"O madam!" cried the young man, "if you would indeed save me by such
+generosity, you would be an angel of mercy."
+
+"What is the amount of your loss?" inquired the lady, calmly, as she
+unlocked her desk.
+
+"Three thousand ducats," answered Ernest. "But I can give you no
+security for the payment."
+
+"Your note of hand is sufficient," said the lady, handing the young
+man a package of notes. "Please to count those, and see if the sum is
+correct. Here are writing materials."
+
+Ernest did as he was bid--counted the money, and then sat down at the
+desk.
+
+"Write at my dictation," said the lady.
+
+Ernest took up a pen and commenced.
+
+"The date," said the lady.
+
+Ernest wrote it.
+
+"Received of Anna Von Berlingen the sum of three thousand ducats."
+
+Ernest wrote and repeated, "three thousand ducats."
+
+"In consideration whereof, I promise to marry the aforesaid Anna Von
+Berlingen."
+
+"To marry you?" exclaimed Ernest.
+
+"Ay--to marry me!" said the lady. "Am I deformed--am I ugly--am I
+poor?"
+
+"I cannot do it--you know not the reason that induces me to refuse."
+
+"Then go home to your father and confess your guilt."
+
+Ernest reflected a few moments. He could not go home to his father
+with the frightful tale. It was a question between suicide and
+marriage--he signed the paper.
+
+"Now then, baron," said the widow to herself, as she carefully secured
+the promise, "you cannot say that you broke the heart of Anna by your
+cruelty. Take the money, Ernest," she added aloud; "go and purchase
+your commission."
+
+Ernest obeyed. His dreams of yesterday morning had all been dissipated
+by his own act; he felt a degraded and broken-spirited criminal. He
+had sold himself for gold.
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+"Here comes Captain Ernest!" cried a youthful voice. And a beautiful,
+blue-eyed girl of nineteen stood at the garden gate of a pretty farm
+house, watching the approach of a horseman, who, gayly attired in a
+hussar uniform, was galloping up the road. At her shout of delight, a
+sturdy old gray-haired man came forth and stood beside her.
+
+"Captain Ernest!" he repeated. "That sounds well. When I was of his
+age, I only carried a musket in the ranks. I never dreamed then that a
+son of mine could ever aspire to the epaulet."
+
+Ernest, waving his hand to Meena Altenburg and his father, rode past
+them to the stable, where he left his horse. He then rushed into the
+farm house where his father met him.
+
+"What is the meaning of this, boy?" he said. "How wild and haggard you
+look! And you have avoided Meena--and this, too, upon your wedding
+day."
+
+"My wedding day--O Heavens! I shall die," said the young man, sinking
+into a seat.
+
+As soon as he could collect himself, he told his father that he could
+not marry Meena, and the reason--he had pledged himself to another.
+The old man, who was the soul of honor, burst forth in violent
+imprecations, and drove him from his presence. As he left the house,
+the unfortunate young man encountered a person whom he at once
+recognized as the Baron Von Dangerfeld, the reputed suitor of Madame
+Von Berlingen.
+
+"I have been looking for you, Captain Walstein," said the baron,
+sternly.
+
+"And you have found me," answered the young man, shortly.
+
+"Yes--and I thank Heaven you wear that uniform. It entitles you to
+meet a German noble, and answer for your conduct."
+
+"I am answerable for my conduct to no living man," retorted Ernest.
+
+"You wear a sword."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Very well--if you refuse to give satisfaction for the injury you have
+done me, in robbing me of my mistress, I will proclaim you a coward in
+the presence of the regiment upon parade."
+
+"O, make yourself easy on that score, baron," answered Ernest. "Life
+is of too little worth for me to think of shielding it. If you will
+step with me into the shadow of yonder grove, we can soon regulate our
+accounts."
+
+The two men walked silently to the appointed spot, and without any
+preliminary, drew their swords and engaged in combat. The struggle was
+not of long duration, for Ernest wounded his adversary in the sword
+arm, and disarmed him.
+
+"Are you satisfied?" he asked.
+
+"I must be so for the present," replied the baron, sullenly. "When I
+recover, you shall hear from me again."
+
+"As you please," said Ernest, coldly. "In the mean time, suffer me to
+bind up your arm."
+
+The young man bandaged the wound of his adversary, and as he faltered
+from the loss of blood, led him towards the farm house. As they
+approached it, two ladies advanced to meet them--one of them was
+Meena, the other Madame Von Berlingen.
+
+"Dangerfeld wounded!" cried the latter, bursting into tears--"O, I
+have been the cause of this: forgive me--forgive me, Dangerfeld, or
+you will kill me."
+
+"You forget, madame, that you belong to another."
+
+"I am yours only--I can never love another. Nor does the person you
+allude to," added the lady, turning to Ernest, "cherish any attachment
+to me."
+
+"My only feeling for you, madame," said Ernest, with meaning, "would
+be gratitude, were a certain paper destroyed."
+
+"What is the meaning of all this?" asked the father of Ernest, coming
+forward.
+
+"It means," said Ernest, tearing to atoms the promissory note he
+received from the widow's hands, "that I had very ugly dreams last
+night--I dreamed that I played at rouge-et-noir, and lost all the
+money you gave me to purchase my commission with, and then that I made
+up the loss by promising----"
+
+"Hush!" said the widow, laying her finger on her lips.
+
+"Then it was all a dream," said the old man.
+
+"Look at my uniform," replied the captain.
+
+"And what did you mean in the story you told me just now?" asked the
+old man.
+
+"Forget it, father," said Ernest. "Dear Meena, look up, my love. It is
+our wedding day; and if you do but smile, I'm the happiest dog that
+wears a sabre and a doliman."
+
+That very day two weddings were celebrated in the farm house, those of
+Captain Ernest Walstein with the Fraulein Meena Altenburg, and Baron
+Von Dangerfeld with the yet beautiful and wealthy widow. The captain
+never tried his luck again at any GAME OF CHANCE.
+
+
+
+
+THE SOLDIER'S SON.
+
+
+Many, many years ago, at the close of a sultry summer's day, a man of
+middle age was slowly toiling up a hill in the environs of the
+pleasant village of Aumont, a small town in the south of France. The
+wayfarer was clad in the habiliments of a private of the infantry of
+the line; that is to say, he wore a long-skirted, blue coat, faced
+with red, much soiled and stained; kerseymere breeches that were once
+white, met at the knee by tattered gaiters of black cloth, an old
+battered chapeau, and a haversack, which he carried slung over his
+right shoulder, on a sheathed sabre. From time to time, he paused and
+wiped the heavy drops of perspiration that gathered constantly upon
+his forehead.
+
+"Courage, Franēois, courage," said the soldier to himself; "a few
+paces more, and you will reach home. Ah, this is sufficiently
+fatiguing, but nothing to the sands of Egypt. May Heaven preserve my
+eyesight long enough to see my home--my wife--my brave boy Victor,
+once more! Grant me but that, kind Heaven, and I think I will repine
+at nothing that may happen further."
+
+It will be seen from the above, that Franēois Bertrand belonged to the
+army which had recently covered itself with glory in the Egyptian
+campaign, under the command of General Bonaparte, a name already
+famous in military annals. He had fought like a hero in the battle of
+the Pyramids, when the squares of the French infantry repulsed the
+brilliant cavalry of Murad Bey, and destroyed the flower of the
+Mamelukes by the deadly fire of their musketry. Wounded in that
+memorable battle, he was afterwards attacked by the ophthalmia of the
+country; but his eyesight, though impaired, was not yet utterly
+destroyed. Honorably discharged, he had just arrived at Marseilles,
+from Egypt, and was now on his way home, eager to be folded in the
+arms of his beloved wife and his young son. So the soldier toiled
+bravely up the hill, for he knew that the white walls of his cottage
+and the foliage of his little vineyard would be visible in the valley
+commanded by the summit.
+
+At length he reached the brow of the hill, and gazed eagerly in the
+direction of his humble home; but O, agony, it was gone! In its place,
+a heap of blackened ruins lay smouldering in the sunlight that seemed
+to mock its desolation. Fatigue--weakness--were instantly forgotten,
+and the soldier rushed down the brow of the hill to the scene of the
+disaster. At the gate of his vineyard, he was met by little Victor, a
+boy of ten.
+
+"A soldier!" cried the boy, who did not recognize his father. "O sir,
+you come back from the wars, don't you? Perhaps you can tell me
+something about my poor papa?"
+
+"Victor, my boy, my dear boy! don't you know me?" cried the poor
+soldier; and he strained his son convulsively in his arms.
+
+"O, I know you now, my dear, dear papa," said the boy, sobbing. "I
+knew you by the voice--but how changed you are! Why, your mustaches
+are turned gray."
+
+"Victor, Victor, where is your mother?" gasped the soldier.
+
+"Poor mamma!" said the boy.
+
+"Speak--I charge you, boy."
+
+"She is dead."
+
+"Dead!" Franēois fell to the ground as if a bullet had passed through
+his brain. When he recovered his senses, he saw Victor kneeling beside
+him, and bathing his head with cold water, which he had brought in his
+hat from a neighboring spring. In a few words, the child told him
+their cottage had taken fire in the night, and been burned to the
+ground, and his mother had perished in the flames.
+
+A kind cottager soon made his appearance, and conducted the
+unfortunate father and son to his humble cabin. Here they passed the
+night and one or two days following. During that time, Franēois
+Bertrand neither ate nor slept, but wept over his misfortune with an
+agony that refused all consolation. On the third day only he regained
+his composure; but it was only to be conscious of a new and
+overwhelming misfortune. His eyesight was gone. The agony of mind he
+had suffered, and the tears he had shed, had completed the ravages of
+his disorder.
+
+"Where are you, Victor?" said the soldier.
+
+"Here, by your side, father; don't you see me?"
+
+"Alas! no, my boy. I can see nothing. Give me your little hand. Your
+poor father is blind."
+
+The agonizing sobs of the boy told him how keenly he appreciated his
+father's misfortune.
+
+"Dry your eyes, Victor;" said the soldier. "Remember the instructions
+of your poor mother, how she taught you to submit with resignation to
+all the sufferings that Providence sees fit to inflict upon us in this
+world of sorrow. Henceforth you must see for both of us; you will be
+my eyes, my boy."
+
+"Yes, father; and I will work for you and support you."
+
+"You are too young and delicate, Victor. We must beg our bread."
+
+"_Beg_, father?"
+
+"Yes, you shall guide my footsteps. There are good people in the world
+who will pity my infirmities and your youth. When they see my ragged
+uniform, they will say, 'There is one of the braves who upheld the
+honor of France upon the burning sands of Egypt,' and they will not
+fail to drop a few sous into the old soldier's hat. Come, Victor, we
+must march. We have been too long a burden on our poor neighbor.
+_Courage, mon enfant, le bon temps viendra._"
+
+And so the boy and his father set forth upon their wanderings. Neither
+asked alms; but when seated by the roadside, under the shadow of an
+overhanging tree, the passer-by would halt, and bestow a small sum
+upon the worn and blind soldier. Victor was devoted to his father, and
+Heaven smiled upon his filial affection. Though denied the society and
+sports so dear to his youth, he was always cheerful and happy in the
+accomplishment of his task. Often did his innocent gayety beguile his
+father into a temporary forgetfulness of his sufferings. Then he would
+place his hand upon the boy's head, and stroking his soft, curling
+locks, smile sweetly as his sightless eyes were turned towards him,
+and commence some stirring narrative of military adventure.
+
+In this way, days, weeks, months, and even years rolled by. They were
+every where well received and kindly treated; and all their physical
+wants were supplied. But the old soldier often sighed to think of the
+burden his misfortunes imposed upon his boy, and of his wearing out
+his young life without congenial companionship, without instruction,
+without a future beyond the life of a mendicant. He often prayed in
+secret that death might liberate, his little guide from his voluntary
+service.
+
+One day, Franēois was seated alone on a stone by the roadside, Victor
+having gone to the neighboring village on an errand, when he suddenly
+heard a carriage stop beside him. The occupant, a man of middle age,
+alighted, and approached the soldier.
+
+"Your name," said the stranger, "is, I think, Franēois Bertrand."
+
+"The same."
+
+"A soldier of the army of Egypt?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And that pretty boy who guides you is your son?"
+
+"He is--Heaven bless him!"
+
+"Amen! But has it never occurred to you, my friend, that you are doing
+him great injustice in keeping him by you at an age when he ought to
+be getting an education to enable him to push his way in the world?"
+
+"Alas! sir, I have often thought of it. But what could supply his
+place? and then, who would befriend and educate him?"
+
+"His place might be supplied by a dog--and for his protector, I,
+myself, who have no son, should be glad to adopt and educate him."
+
+His son's place supplied by a dog! The thought was agony. And to part
+with Victor! The idea was as cruel as death itself. The old soldier
+was silent.
+
+"You are silent, my friend. Has my offer offended you?"
+
+"No sir--no. But you will pardon a father's feelings."
+
+"I respect them--and I do not wish to hurry you. Take a day to think
+of my proposition, and to inform yourself respecting my character and
+position. I am a merchant. My name is Eugene Marmont, and I reside at
+No. 17 Rue St. Honoré, Paris. I will meet you at this spot to-morrow
+at the same hour, and shall then expect an answer. _Au revoir._" He
+placed a golden louis in the hand of the soldier, and departed.
+
+A little reflection convinced Bertrand that it was his duty to accept
+the merchant's offer. But cruel as was the task of reconciling himself
+to parting with his son, that of inducing Victor to acquiesce in the
+arrangement was yet more difficult. It required the exercise of
+authority to sever the ties that bound the son to the father. But it
+was done--Victor resigned his task to a little dog that was procured
+by the merchant, and after an agonizing farewell was whirled away in
+Marmont's carriage.
+
+Years passed on. Victor outstripped all his companions at school, and
+stood at the head of the military academy; for he was striving to win
+a name and fortune for his father. The good Marmont, from time to
+time, endeavored to obtain tidings of the soldier; but the latter had
+purposely changed his usual route, and, satisfied that his son was in
+good hands, felt a sort of pride in not intruding his poverty and
+misfortunes on the notice of Victor's new companions. The boy,
+himself, was much distressed at not seeing or hearing from his father;
+but he kept struggling on, saying to himself, "_Courage, Victor--le
+bon temps viendra_--the good time will come."
+
+On the death of Marmont, he entered the army as a sub-lieutenant, and
+fought his way up to a captaincy under the eye of the emperor. At the
+close of a brilliant campaign he was invited to pass a few weeks at
+the chateau of a general officer named Duvivier, a few leagues from
+Paris. The company there was brilliant, composed of all that was most
+beautiful, talented, and distinguished in the circle in which the
+general moved. But the "star of that goodly company" was Julie
+Duvivier, the youthful and accomplished daughter of the general. Many
+distinguished suitors contended for the honor of her hand; but the
+moment Victor appeared, they felt they had a formidable rival. The
+belle of the chateau could not help showing her decided preference for
+him, though, with a modesty and delicacy natural to his position, he
+refrained from making any decided advances.
+
+One night, however, transported beyond himself by passion, he betrayed
+the secret of his heart to Julie, as he led her to her seat after an
+intoxicating waltz. The reception of his almost involuntary avowal was
+such as to convince him that his affection was returned. But he felt
+that he had done wrong--and a high sense of honor induced the young
+soldier immediately to seek the general, and make him a party to his
+wishes.
+
+He found him alone in the embrasure of a window that opened on the
+garden of the chateau.
+
+"General," said he, with military frankness, "I love your daughter."
+
+The general started, and cast a glance of displeasure on the young
+man.
+
+"I know you but slightly, Captain Bertrand," he answered, "but you are
+aware that the man who marries my daughter must be able to give her
+her true position in society. Show me the proofs of your nobility and
+wealth, and I will entertain your proposition."
+
+"Alas!" answered the young soldier in a faltering voice, "I feel that
+I have erred--pity me--forgive me--I was led astray by a passion too
+strong to be controlled. I have no name--and my fortune is my sword."
+
+The general bowed coldly, and the young soldier passed out into the
+garden. It was a brilliant moonlight evening. Every object was defined
+as clearly as if illuminated by the sun's rays. Removing his chapeau,
+that the night air might cool his fevered brow, he was about to take
+his favorite seat beside the fountain where he had passed many hours
+in weaving bright visions of the future, when he perceived that it was
+already occupied. An old man in a faded military uniform sat there,
+with a little dog lying at his feet. One glance was sufficient--the
+next instant Victor folded his father in his arms.
+
+"Father!" "My boy!" The words were interrupted by convulsive sobs.
+
+After the first passionate greeting was over, the old man passed his
+hand over his son's dress, and a smile of joy was revealed by the
+bright moonbeams.
+
+"A soldier! I thought I heard the clatter of your sabre," said the old
+man. "Where did you get these epaulets?"
+
+"At Austerlitz, father--they were given me by the emperor."
+
+"Long live the emperor!" said the old man. "He never forgets his
+children."
+
+"No, father. For when he gave me my commission, he said, thoughtfully,
+'Bertrand! your name is familiar.' 'Yes, sire--my father served under
+the tricolor.' 'I remember--he was one of my old Egyptians.' And
+then--father--then he gave me the cross of the legion--and told me,
+when I found you, to affix it to your breast in his name."
+
+"It is almost too much!" sighed the old soldier, as the young officer
+produced the cross and attached it to his father's breast.
+
+"And now," said the young man, "give me your hand as of old, dear
+father, and let me lead you."
+
+"Whither?"
+
+"Into the saloon of the chateau, to present you to General Duvivier
+and his guests."
+
+"What! in my rags! before all that grand company?"
+
+"Why not, father? The ragged uniform of a brave soldier who bears the
+cross of honor on his breast is the proudest decoration in the world.
+Come, father."
+
+Leading his blind father, young Bertrand reėntered the saloon he had
+so lately left, and went directly to the general, who was standing,
+surrounded by his glittering staff.
+
+"General," said he, "_here_ is my title of nobility--my father is all
+the wealth I possess in the world."
+
+Tears started to the general's eyes, and he shook the old soldier
+warmly by the hand. Then beckoning to Julie, he led her to Victor, and
+placed her trembling hand in his.
+
+"Let this dear girl," said he, "make amends for my coldness a moment
+since. A son so noble hearted is worthy of all happiness."
+
+In a word, Captain, afterwards Colonel, Bertrand married the general's
+daughter, and the happiness of their fireside was completed by the
+constant presence of the good old soldier, to whose self-denial Victor
+owed his honors and domestic bliss.
+
+
+
+
+TAKING CHARGE OF A LADY.
+
+
+The steamer Ben Franklin--it was many years ago, reader--was just on
+the point of leaving her dock at Providence, when a slender, pale
+young man, with sandy whiskers and green eyes, who had just safely
+stowed away his valise, honorably paid his fare, and purchased a
+supper ticket, and now stood on the upper deck, leaning on his blue
+cotton umbrella in a mild attitude of contemplation, was accosted by a
+benevolent-looking old gentleman, in gold-bowed spectacles, upon whose
+left arm hung a feminine, in a bright mazarine blue broadcloth
+travelling habit, with a gold watch at her waist, and a green veil
+over her face, with the (to a timid young man) startling question
+of,--
+
+"Pray, sir, will you be so kind as to take charge of a lady?"
+
+The slender young man with the blue cotton umbrella blushed up to the
+roots of his sandy hair, but he bowed deeply and affirmatively.
+
+"We were disappointed in not meeting a friend, sir," continued the
+benevolent-looking old gentleman, "and so I had to trust to chance for
+finding an escort to Fanny. Only as far as New York, sir; my daughter
+will give you very little trouble. She's a strong-minded, independent
+woman, sir, and abundantly able to take care of herself; but I don't
+like the idea of ladies travelling alone. If the boat sinks, sir,
+she's abundantly able to swim ashore. Good by, Fanny."
+
+"Father," said the lady in the blue habit, in a deep and mellow
+baritone,--rather a queer voice for a woman, though,--"a parting
+salute!" She threw back her veil, displaying a pair of piercing black
+eyes, kissed the paternal cheek, veiled the black eyes a moment with a
+lace-bordered handkerchief, as her sire descended the gang plank,--his
+exit being deprived of dignity by the sudden withdrawal of the
+board,--and then placed her arm within that of the sandy-haired young
+gentleman, and began walking him up and down the promenade deck.
+
+"Isn't this delightful?" said she. "O, what can exceed the pleasure of
+travelling, when one has a sympathizing friend as a companion!" And
+she rather pressed the arm of her companion. She was strong-handed as
+well as strong-minded.
+
+Mr. Brown, for that was the name of the timid young gentleman with the
+sandy hair and the blue cotton umbrella, was not particularly
+susceptible, for he had already lost his heart to a sandy-haired young
+lady, who resided in New York; and, besides, he didn't like
+strong-minded women; so he asked, very unromantically, but sensibly,
+if the happy parent of the lady in the blue habit had purchased her a
+ticket.
+
+"I believe--I am certain that he did not," was the reply. "Father is
+so forgetful!"
+
+"I'll do it myself then, ma'am--if you'll excuse me a moment. What
+name?"
+
+"Brown," said the lady.
+
+"My own name!" cried the young man.
+
+"Is it possible?" cried the blue beauty. "What a coincidence! How
+striking! charming!"
+
+She made no offer of money, and Brown invested his own funds in a
+passage and supper ticket.
+
+"You dear creature!" cried the lady, when he handed them to her, "you
+are very attentive. But there was no necessity for this supper ticket.
+I am the least eater in the world."
+
+She said nothing about the cost of the tickets; and how could Brown
+broach the subject?
+
+"There's that bell, at last!" she cried, when the supper bell rang;
+"do let's hurry down, Brown, for people are so rude and eager on board
+steamboats, that unless you move quick you lose your chance."
+
+Brown was hurried along by his fair friend, and she struggled through
+the crowd till she headed the column and got an excellent seat at the
+table. Our sandy-haired friend had exalted opinions of the delicacy of
+female appetites; he had never helped ladies at a ball, or seen them
+in a pantry at luncheon time, and fancied they fed as lightly as
+canary birds. He was rather glad to hear Fanny make that remark about
+the supper ticket on the promenade deck. But now he found she could
+eat. The cold drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead as he
+watched the evidences of her voracity. She was helped four times, by
+the captain, to beefsteak--no miniature slices either, but huge, broad
+cubes of solid flesh. A dish of oysters attracted her eye, and she
+gobbled them up every one. Toast and hot bread disappeared before her
+ravenous appetite. Sponge and pound cake were despatched with fearful
+celerity. She took up the attention of one particular nigger, and he
+looked weary and collapsed when the supper was finished.
+
+Yet, after all this, Fanny paraded the deck, and had the heart to talk
+about the "orbs of heaven," and Shelley, and Byron, and Tennyson, and
+Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Fanny Ellsler, and Schiller. Brown was very
+glad when she retired to the lady's cabin.
+
+The morning he rose late, purposely to avoid her till the boat touched
+the wharf. He engaged a carriage and hunted up the lady's baggage;
+fortunately there was not much of it. This done, he escorted her on
+shore, and handed her into the coach.
+
+"Now, then," said the one-eyed driver,--he had recently lost his eye
+in a fight, on the first night of his return from Blackwell's
+Island,--"where away? Oyster House, Merrikin, or Globe?"
+
+"Where are you going, madam?" asked Brown.
+
+"Where are _you_ going?" asked the lady.
+
+"To the American, ma'am."
+
+"What a coincidence!" exclaimed the lady, rolling up her black eyes.
+
+"American House, driver."
+
+"All right--in with you!" cried the one-eyed man, as he pitched Brown
+headlong into the coach, slammed the rickety door on him, sprang to
+his box, and lashed his sorry steeds into a gallop. In due time they
+arrived, and a room was engaged for the lady, and one for her
+cavalier.
+
+Brown went up town as soon as he had dressed, to see his sweetheart,
+taking particular care to say nothing of his namesake, the fair Fanny.
+
+The next day he was promenading Broadway with Miss S., when he was
+confronted, opposite St. Paul's, by a furious man, with black
+whiskers, who halted directly in his path.
+
+"Do you call yourself Brown?" asked the furious man, furiously.
+
+"That's my name, sir," said the sandy-haired young gentleman, meekly.
+
+"It's _my_ name, sir," shouted the furious man. "John Brown. Now you
+know who I am. Do you know Mrs. Brown?"
+
+"I don't know," stammered the unfortunate young man with sandy hair.
+
+"Who did you come from Providence with? answer me that!" roared the
+furious man, getting as black as his whiskers with apoplectic rage.
+
+"I--I took charge of a lady, certainly," stammered the guiltless but
+confounded young man.
+
+"You took charge of Mrs. Brown, sir--Fanny Sophonisba Brown, sir, who
+has left my bed and board without provocation, sir,--_vide_ the
+Providence papers, sir,--left me, sir, because I didn't approve of her
+strong-minded goings on, sir, her woman's-rights meetings, sir, and
+her nigger colonizations, sir, and her--but that's enough, sir."
+
+Here Miss Sumker, who was a mild, freckled-faced girl, dropped the arm
+of her companion, and meekly sat down on a doorstep, and covered her
+face with a handkerchief.
+
+"Mr. Brown, sir!" cried our poor young friend, finally plucking up a
+spirit.
+
+"Go it, lemons!" shouted a listening drayman, as he hung over the
+scene from one of his cart stakes.
+
+"Captain Brown," suggested the furious man, with smothered rage.
+
+"Well then, _Captain_ Brown," said Brown, 2d., spitefully, "the lady
+you allude to is a total stranger to me. She was put under my care by
+a benevolent-looking old gentleman, with gold-bowed spectacles, and
+she has already cost me ten dollars, money advanced on her account."
+
+"All persons are forbidden to trust the same, as I will pay no debts
+of her contracting," said the furious man, with gleams of unmitigated
+ferocity and savage exultation.
+
+"Then I'm done brown, that's all," said the young man, gloomily. "As
+for Mrs. Fanny Sophonisba Brown, I never want to see her face again.
+She is at the American House, and you can recover her by proving
+property and paying charges. And, for my part, I hope I may be kicked
+to death by grasshoppers if ever I take charge of a lady again."
+
+This was the largest speech, probably, that the sandy-haired young man
+had ever made in his life. It was a regular "stunner," though. It
+convinced Miss Sumker, who had for a moment thought of withdrawing the
+light of her freckles from him forever, and who now hastened to
+replace her arm in his; and it convinced Captain Brown, who became
+suddenly as mild as moonbeams, shook his new acquaintance by the hand,
+and declared him a "fine young fellow."
+
+But the drayman was disgusted at the affair ending without a fight,
+and expressed his feelings, as he laid the lash across his horse, by
+the single exclamation, "Pickles!" thereby insinuating that the
+nauseous sweetness of the reconciliation required a strong dash of
+acidity to neutralize its flavor.
+
+The captain regained his strong-minded wife, and our sandy-haired
+friend went home with Miss Sumker, metamorphosed into Mrs. Brown,
+having "taken charge" of her for life.
+
+
+
+
+THE NEW YEAR'S BELLS.
+
+
+How the wind blew on the evening of the 31st December, in the
+year--but no matter for the date. It came roaring from the north,
+fraught with the icy chillness of those hyperborean regions that are
+lost to the sunlight for six months, the realm of ice-ribbed caverns,
+and snow mountains heaped up above the horizon in the cold and
+cheerless sky. On it came, that northern blast, howling and tearing,
+and menacing with destruction every obstacle that crossed its path. It
+dashed right through a gorge in the mountains, and twisted the arms of
+the rock-rooted hemlock and the giant oak, as if they were the twigs
+of saplings. Then it swept over the wild, waste meadows, rattling the
+frozen sedge, and whirling into eddies the few dry leaves that
+remained upon the surface of the earth. Next it invaded the principal
+street of the quaint old village, and played the mischief with the
+tall elms and the venerable buttonwoods that stood on either side like
+sentinels guarding the highway. How the old gilt lion that swung from
+the sign post of the tavern, hanging like a malefactor in irons, was
+shaken and disturbed! Backwards and forwards the animal was tossed,
+like a bark upon the ocean. Now he seemed as if about to turn a
+somerset and circumnavigate the beam from which he hung, creaking and
+groaning dismally all the while, like an unhappy soul in purgatory.
+The loose shutters of the upper story of the tavern chattered like
+the teeth of a witch-ridden old crone. But cheerful fires of hickory
+and maple were burning within doors; a merry group was gathered in the
+old oak parlor, and little recked the guests of the elemental war
+without. In fact, they knew nothing of it, till the driver of the
+village stage coach, making his appearance with a few flakes of snow
+on his snuff-colored surtout, announced, as he expanded his broad
+hands to the genial blaze, that it was a "wild night out of doors."
+
+But on--on sped the wild wind, driving the snow flakes before it as a
+victorious army sweeps away the routed skirmishers and outposts of the
+enemy. Away went the night wind on its wild errand, reaching at last a
+solitary cottage on the outskirts of the village. Here it revelled in
+unwonted fury, ripping up the loose shingles from the moss-grown
+rooftree, and forcing an entrance through many a yawning crevice.
+
+The scene within the cottage presented a strange and painful contrast
+to the interior of most of the comfortable houses in the flourishing
+village through which we have been hurrying on the wings of the cold
+north wind. The room was scantily furnished. There were two or three
+very old-fashioned, rickety, straw-bottomed chairs, an oaken stool or
+two, and a pine table. The hour hand of a wooden clock on the mantel
+piece pointed to eleven. A fire of chips and brushwood was smouldering
+on the hearth. In one corner of the room, near the fireplace, on a
+heap of straw, covered with a blanket, two little boys lay sleeping in
+each other's arms. Crouched near the table, her features dimly lighted
+by a tallow candle, sat a woman advanced in life, clad in faded but
+cleanly garments, whose hollow cheeks and sunken eye told a painful
+tale of sorrow and destitution. Those sad eyes were fixed anxiously
+and imploringly upon the stern, grim face of a hard-featured old man,
+who, with hat pulled over his shaggy gray eyebrows, was standing,
+resting on a stout staff, in the centre of the floor.
+
+"So, you haven't got any money for me," said the old man, in the
+harshest of all possible voices.
+
+"Alas! no, Mr. Wurm--if I had I should have brought it to you long
+ago," answered the poor woman. "I had raked and scraped a little
+together--but the sickness of these poor children--poor William's
+orphans--swept it all away--I haven't got a cent."
+
+"So much the worse for you, Mrs. Redman," answered the old man,
+harshly. "I've been easy with you--I've waited and waited--trusting
+your promises. I can't wait any longer. I want the money."
+
+"You want the money! Is it possible? Report speaks you rich."
+
+"It's false--false!" said the old man, bitterly. "I'm poor--I'm
+pinched. Ask the townspeople how I live. Do I look like a rich man?
+No, no! I tell you I want my dues--and I will have 'em."
+
+"I can't pay you," said the woman, sadly.
+
+"Then you must abide the consequences!"
+
+"What consequences?"
+
+"I've got an execution--that's all," said the hardhearted landlord.
+
+"An execution! what's that?"
+
+"A warrant to take all your goods."
+
+"My goods!" said the poor woman, looking round her with a melancholy
+smile. "Why I have nothing but what few things you see in this room.
+You surely wouldn't take those."
+
+"I'll take all I can get."
+
+"And leave me here with the bare walls."
+
+"No, no! you walk out of this to-morrow."
+
+"In the depth of winter! You cannot be so hardhearted."
+
+"We shall see that."
+
+"I care not for myself; but what is to become of these poor children?"
+
+"Send 'em to work in the factory."
+
+"But they are just recovering from sickness; they are too young to
+work. O, where, where can we go?"
+
+"To the poorhouse," said the landlord, fiercely.
+
+The poor woman rose, and approaching the landlord's feet, fell upon
+her knees, clasped her hands, and looked upward in his stern and
+unrelenting face.
+
+"Israel Wurm," she said, "has your heart grown as hard as the nether
+millstone? Have you forgotten the days of old lang syne? O, remember
+that we were once prosperous and happy; remember that misfortune and
+not sin has reduced me and mine to the deplorable state in which you
+find us. Remember that my husband was your early friend--your
+schoolfellow--your playmate. Remember that when he was rich and you
+poor, he gave you from his plenty--freely--bountifully--not gave with
+the expectation of a return; his gifts were bounties, not loans."
+
+"Therefore I owed him nothing," said the obdurate miser, turning away.
+
+"You shall hear me out," said the woman, starting to her feet. "I ask
+for a further delay; I ask you to stay the hard hand of the law. You
+profess to be a Christian; I demand justice and mercy in the name of
+those sleeping innocents, my poor grandchildren, whose father is in
+heaven. You _shall_ be merciful."
+
+"Heyday!" exclaimed the miser; "this is fine talk, upon my word. You
+_demand_ justice, do you? Well, you shall have it. The law is on my
+side, and I will carry it out to the letter."
+
+"Then," said the outraged woman, stretching forth her trembling hand,
+"the curse of the widow and the orphan shall be upon you. Sleeping or
+waking, it shall haunt you; and on your miserable death bed, when the
+ugly shapes that throng about the pillow of the dying sinner shall
+close around you, our malediction shall weigh like lead upon you, and
+your palsied lips shall fail to articulate the impotent prayer for
+that mercy to yourself which you denied to others. And now begone.
+This house is mine to-night, at least. Afflict it no longer with your
+presence. Go forth into the night; it is not darker than your
+benighted soul, nor is the north wind one half so pitiless as you."
+
+With a bitter curse upon his lips, but trembling and dismayed in spite
+of himself, Israel Wurm left the presence of the indignant victim of
+his cruelty, and turned his footsteps in the direction of his home.
+His _home_! It scarcely deserved the name. There was no fire there to
+thaw his chilled and trembling frame--no light to gleam athwart the
+darkness, and send forth its pilgrim rays to meet him and guide his
+footsteps to his threshold. No wife, no children, waited eagerly his
+return. It was the miser's home--dark, desolate, stern, and repulsive.
+Its deep cellars, its thick walls held hidden stores of gold, and
+notes, and bonds, but there were garnered up no treasures of the
+heart.
+
+The miser's path lay through the churchyard, a desolate place enough
+even in the gay noon of a midsummer day, now doubly repulsive in the
+wild midnight of midwinter. The wall was ruinous. The black iron
+gateway frowned, naked and ominous. The field of death was crowded
+with headstones of slate, and innumerable mounds marked the
+resting-place of many generations. The snow was now gathering fast
+over the dreary and desolate abode, as the miser stumbled along the
+beaten pathway, bending against the blast and drift. A strange
+numbness and drowsiness crept over him. He no longer felt the cold; an
+uncontrollable desire of slumber possessed him. He sat down upon a
+flat tombstone, and soon lost all consciousness of his actual
+situation.
+
+Suddenly he saw before him the well-known figure of the old sexton of
+the village, busily occupied in digging a grave. The winter had passed
+away; it was now midsummer. The birds were singing in the trees, and
+from the far green meadows sounded the low of cattle, and the tinkling
+of sheep bells. Even the graveyard looked no longer desolate, for on
+many of the little hillocks bright flowers were springing into bloom
+and verdure, attesting the affection that outlived death, and
+decorating with living bloom the precincts of decay.
+
+"My friend, for whom are you digging that grave?" asked Israel.
+
+The sexton looked up from his work, but did not seem to recognize the
+spokesman.
+
+"For a man that died last night; he is to be buried to-day."
+
+"Methinks this haste is somewhat indecorous," said Israel Wurm.
+
+"O, for the matter of that," said the sexton, "the sooner this
+fellow's out of the way the better. There's nobody to mourn for him."
+
+"Is he a pauper, then?"
+
+"O no! he was immensely rich."
+
+"And had he no relations--no friends?"
+
+"For relations, he had a nephew, who inherits all his property. The
+young dog will make the money fly, I tell you. As for friends, he had
+none. The poor dreaded him--the good despised him; for he was a
+hardhearted, selfish, griping man. In a word, he was a MISER," said the
+sexton.
+
+"A miser," faltered the trembling dreamer; "what was his name?"
+
+"Israel Wurm," replied the sexton.
+
+Graveyard and sexton faded away; in their place arose a splendid grove
+of trees--a clearing--a village school house. Two boys were sauntering
+along the roadside, engaged in serious, childish talk. One was fair,
+with golden locks; the other dark-haired and grave of aspect. Israel
+started, for in the latter he recognized himself--a boy of fifty years
+ago.
+
+"Israel," said the golden-haired boy, "it's 'lection day to-morrow;
+we'll hire Browning's horse and chaise, and go to Boston, and have a
+grand time on the Common, seeing all the shows."
+
+"You forget, Mark," said the dark-haired boy, sadly, "that I have no
+money."
+
+"What of that?" replied the other; "I have a pocket full; and what's
+mine is yours, you know. Come, cheer up, you'll one day he as rich as
+I am; and then it will be your turn to treat, you know. I can afford
+to be generous, and so would you be, if you had the means."
+
+Then the shadow passed from the face of the dark-haired boy, and a
+smile lighted up his countenance, and the two schoolfellows passed on
+their way together.
+
+Grove and school house passed away, melting into another scene like
+one of the dissolving views. Israel stood before a huge illuminated
+screen, in the midst of a gaping company of sight seers. He could see
+nothing but a confused mass of heads, vaguely lighted by the rays
+from that vast screen. It was some kind of an exhibition.
+
+"Now, ladies and gentlemen," said a strange voice issuing from the
+darkness, "we shall show you the wonders of the oxy-hydrogen
+microscope; natural objects magnified five thousand times. Look and
+behold the proboscis of the common house fly."
+
+Israel gazed with the rest, and soon a huge object, resembling the
+trunk of a monster elephant, appeared on the illuminated disk. It
+passed away.
+
+"Now, ladies and gentlemen," said the voice, "look well to the
+illuminated screen. What do you see now?"
+
+"Nothing!" was the universal and indignant answer.
+
+"I thought so," replied the voice. "Yet you have before you a miser's
+soul magnified five thousand times; a million such would not produce
+an image on the screen."
+
+The illuminated disk grew dark and disappeared; then a lurid light
+seemed to fill all space; and soon huge billows of flames rolled
+upward, and writhed and twisted together like a myriad of gigantic
+serpents. Shrieks and howls of anguish issued from the fiery mass, but
+above all was heard the startling clangor of a bell.
+
+"Halloo! who's this?" cried a voice that evidently issued from a set
+of powerful human lungs. The miser felt himself roughly shaken by the
+shoulder, and awoke.
+
+"What's the noise?--fire?" he asked; for the bell he had heard in his
+dream now jarred upon his waking senses.
+
+"Fire! no!" said the man who had awakened him--the butcher of the
+village. "It's the boys ringing in the new year. By the way, I wish
+you a happy new year, Mr. Wurm."
+
+"A happy new year, Mr. Wurm," said the schoolmaster for he, too, was
+present.
+
+"A happy new year," said Farmer Harrowby.
+
+"And a happy new year" chorused a dozen other voices. It was great fun
+wishing a miser a happy new year.
+
+"Thank you, neighbors; I wish you a thousand," replied Israel,
+cheerfully.
+
+"How came you asleep there?" asked Farmer Harrowby. "Why, you might
+have perished in the drift."
+
+"I was overcome by drowsiness," answered Israel. "I was very cold; I'd
+been to make a call on Widow Redman, and the poor soul was out of
+wood. By the way, farmer, the first thing after sunrise, I want you to
+be sure to gear up your ox team, and take a cord of your best hickory
+and pitch pine to the widow."
+
+"And who'll pay me?" asked the farmer, doubtfully.
+
+"I will, to be sure," answered Israel. "Have not I got money enough?
+Here--hold your hand;" and he put a handful of silver in the farmer's
+honest palm. "And you, Mr. Wilkins," he added, addressing the butcher,
+"take her the best turkey you've got, and half a pig, with my
+compliments, and a happy new year to her."
+
+"And how about that execution?" asked the constable, who was round
+with the rest, 'seeing the old year out and the new year in.'
+
+"Confound the execution! Don't let me hear another word about it,"
+said Israel, magnanimously. "And now, neighbors," he added, "I owe you
+something for your good wishes; come along with me to the Golden Lion,
+and I'll give you the best supper the tavern affords. Hurrah! New year
+don't come but once in a twelvemonth."
+
+We will be bound that a merrier party never left a churchyard, even
+after a funeral, nor a merrier set ever sat down to a festal board,
+than that which gathered to greet the hospitality of Israel Wurm. In
+the course of the evening, an old Scotch gardener gave it as his
+opinion that the "miser was _fey_." (When a man suddenly changes his
+character, as when a spendthrift becomes saving, or a niggard
+generous, the Scotch say that he is _fey_, and consider the change a
+forerunner of sudden death.)
+
+"No, my friends," said Israel, overhearing the remark, "I am not
+_fey_; and I mean to live a long while, Heaven willing, for I have
+just learned that the true secret of enjoying life is to do good to
+others. I had a dream to-night which has, I trust, made me a wiser and
+better man. The miser lies buried in yonder churchyard; Israel Wurm, a
+new man, has risen in his place; and as far as my means go, I intend
+that this shall be a happy new year to every one of my acquaintances."
+
+Israel was as good as his word, and never relapsed into his old
+habits. The widow and the orphan children were provided for by his
+bounty; he gave liberally to every object of charity. Hospitals,
+schools, and colleges were the recipients of his bounty; and when he
+died, in the fulness of years, the blessings of old and young followed
+him to his last resting-place in the old churchyard where he had
+dreamed the mysterious dream, and been awakened to a better life by
+the pealing of the NEW YEAR'S BELLS.
+
+
+
+
+THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW.
+
+
+"O, this is beautiful--beautiful indeed!" cried a young and silvery
+voice, musical as fairy bells heard at midnight. "How white this snowy
+drapery hangs upon the roofs of these bright palaces!" and the
+speaker, a gay boy, danced trippingly along, following in the
+footsteps of an old, gray-bearded man who was tottering before him.
+
+The old man turned. "You call that snowy drapery beautiful?" said he.
+
+"Yes--it is like the raiment of a bride," said the boy.
+
+"To me it seems a shroud thrown over the grave of buried hopes,"
+answered the old man.
+
+"But what are these joy bells ringing for?" said the boy.
+
+"For a death and for a birth!" replied the old man.
+
+"You speak riddles."
+
+"I speak truth. The same sounds have a different import to different
+ears. To mine there is a death knell in these tremulous vibrations of
+the air."
+
+"You are very old, father--and age has cankered you."
+
+"A twelvemonth since, young child of Time," replied the old man, "I
+was like you."
+
+"A twelvemonth! Your back is bent, your locks are silvery, your voice
+is tremulous. How is this?"
+
+"Wrinkles and gray hairs are the work of sorrows, not of years. Eyes
+that are weary of the sight of suffering grow dim apace."
+
+"But hark!" said the youth. "Hear you not that music--the peals of
+laughter that come from yonder illuminated house? It is a wedding
+festival."
+
+"Yes," replied the old man, sadly. "A twelvemonth since, I heard the
+same sounds in the same house. There was music and feasting--it was,
+as now, a wedding festival. Where is the bride? Go to yonder
+churchyard. You will find her name inscribed on a simple stone. If you
+pass out of the city to the north, you will see some huge buildings of
+brick, towering upon an eminence. If you linger by the garden wall you
+will hear shrieks and curses, the howls of despair, the ravings of
+hopeless lunacy. The husband is there--the victim of his own evil
+passions--a raving maniac."
+
+"Away with these croaking reminiscences!" cried the younger voice.
+"Let the music peal--let the dance go on. The wine is red within the
+cup."
+
+"Yes--and the deadly serpent lurks below."
+
+"Then the world is all desolate!" cried the New Year.
+
+"No! there are green spots in the desert!" said the Old Year; "but
+beware of deeming it all fairyland! But a little while and you will
+follow me. But the end is not here--after Time, Eternity! There
+suffering and sin are unknown. There each departed spirit, after
+making the circuit of its appointed sphere, shall rise to a higher and
+a higher, while boundless love and wisdom illuminate all, radiating
+from a centre whose brightness no human senses can conceive."
+
+The old man was gone. The joyous bells had rung his requiem. The young
+heir was enthroned--and with mingled hope and foreboding commenced the
+reign of 1853.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage,
+and Other Tales, by Francis A. Durivage
+
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and
+Other Tales, by Francis A. Durivage
+
+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: The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales
+
+Author: Francis A. Durivage
+
+Release Date: February 3, 2006 [EBook #17669]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THREE BRIDES, LOVE IN A ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Sankar Viswanathan,
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<h1>THE<br />
+
+THREE BRIDES,<br />
+
+LOVE IN A COTTAGE,</h1>
+
+<h3>AND<br />
+
+OTHER TALES</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h2>FRANCIS A. DURIVAGE.</h2>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>BOSTON:<br />
+SANBORN, CARTER, BAZIN &amp; CO.,</h3>
+<h4>25 &amp; 29 CORNHILL.</h4>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="center">Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by</p>
+
+<p class="center">F.A. DURIVAGE,</p>
+
+<p class="center">In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h4>TO</h4>
+
+<h2>MY MOTHER,</h2>
+
+<h3>THE FIRST TO ENCOURAGE MY EFFORTS,</h3>
+
+<h3>AND THE MOST INDULGENT OF MY CRITICS,</h3>
+
+<h2>THIS VOLUME</h2>
+
+<h3>IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.</h3>
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The volume here submitted to the public is composed of selections from
+my contributions to the columns of the American press. The stories and
+sketches were written, most of them, in the intervals of relaxation
+from more serious labor and the daily business of life; and they would
+be suffered to disappear in the Lethe that awaits old magazines and
+newspapers, had not their extensive circulation, and the partial
+judgment of friends,&mdash;for I must not omit the stereotyped plea of
+scribblers,&mdash;flattered me that their collection in a permanent form
+would not prove wholly unacceptable. Some of these articles were
+published anonymously, or under the signature of "The Old 'Un," and
+have enjoyed the honor of adoption by persons having no claim to their
+paternity; and it seems time to call home and assemble these vagabond
+children under the paternal wing. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The materials for the tales were gathered from various sources: some
+are purely imaginative, some authentic, not a few jotted down from
+oral narrative, or derived from the vague remembrance of some old play
+or adventure; but the form at least is my own, and that is about all
+that a professional story-teller, gleaning his matter at random, can
+generally lay claim to.</p>
+
+<p>Some of these sketches were originally published in the Boston "Olive
+Branch," and many in Mr. Gleason's popular papers, the "Flag of Our
+Union," and the "Pictorial Drawing-Room Companion." Others have
+appeared in the "New York Mirror," the "American Monthly Magazine,"
+the New York "Spirit of the Times," the "Symbol," and other magazines
+and papers.</p>
+
+<p>Should their perusal serve to beguile some hours of weariness and
+illness, as their composition has done, I shall feel that my labor has
+not been altogether vain; while the moderate success of this venture
+will stimulate me to attempt something more worthy the attention of
+the public.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">
+FRANCIS A. DURIVAGE.<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="TABLE_OF_CONTENTS" id="TABLE_OF_CONTENTS"></a>TABLE OF CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<table  summary="Contents">
+<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td class="tocpg" >PAGE</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td>&nbsp;</td>
+  <td class="tocpg" >&nbsp;</td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_GOLDSMITHS_DAUGHTER">THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER.</a></td><td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#PHILETUS_POTTS">PHILETUS POTTS.</a></td><td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_GONDOLIER">THE GONDOLIER.</a></td><td class="tocpg" ><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_SURRENDER_OF_CORNWALLIS">THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_THREE_BRIDES">THE THREE BRIDES.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#CALIFORNIA_SPECULATION">CALIFORNIA SPECULATION.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_FRENCH_GUARDSMAN">THE FRENCH GUARDSMAN.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#PERSONAL_SATISFACTION">PERSONAL SATISFACTION.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_CASTLE_ON_THE_RHINE">THE CASTLE ON THE RHINE.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#LOVE_IN_A_COTTAGE">LOVE IN A COTTAGE.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_CAREER_OF_AN_ARTIST">THE CAREER OF AN ARTIST.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#SOUVENIRS_OF_A_RETIRED_OYSTERMAN_IN_ILL_HEALTH">SOUVENIRS OF A RETIRED OYSTERMAN IN ILL HEALTH.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_NEW_YEARS_STOCKINGS">THE NEW YEAR'S STOCKINGS.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_OBLIGING_YOUNG_MAN">THE OBLIGING YOUNG MAN.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#EULALIE_LASALLE">EULALIE LASALLE.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_OLD_CITY_PUMP">THE OLD CITY PUMP.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_TWO_PORTRAITS">THE TWO PORTRAITS.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_147">147</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#UNCLE_OBED">UNCLE OBED.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_155">155</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_CASKET_OF_JEWELS">THE CASKET OF JEWELS.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#ACTING_CHARADES">ACTING CHARADES.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_GREEN_CHAMBER">THE GREEN CHAMBER.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_182">182</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#HE_WASNT_A_HORSE_JOCKEY">HE WASN'T A HORSE JOCKEY.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#FUNERAL_SHADOWS">FUNERAL SHADOWS.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_LATE_ELIAS_MUGGS">THE LATE ELIAS MUGGS.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_207">207</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_SOLDIERS_WIFE">THE SOLDIER'S WIFE.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#A_KISS_ON_DEMAND">A KISS ON DEMAND.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_RIFLE_SHOT">THE RIFLE SHOT.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_WATER_CURE">THE WATER CURE.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_COSSACK">THE COSSACK.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#MARRIED_FOR_MONEY">MARRIED FOR MONEY.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_260">260</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_EMIGRANT_SHIP">THE EMIGRANT SHIP.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_LAST_OF_THE_STAGE_COACHES">THE LAST OF THE STAGE COACHES.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_271">271</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_SEXTON_OF_ST_HUBERTS">THE SEXTON OF ST. HUBERT'S.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#JACK_WITHERS">JACK WITHERS.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_SILVER_HAMMER">THE SILVER HAMMER.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_CHRIST_CHURCH_CHIMES">THE CHRIST CHURCH CHIMES.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_POLISH_SLAVE">THE POLISH SLAVE.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#OBEYING_ORDERS">OBEYING ORDERS.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_331">331</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_DEACONS_HORSE">THE DEACON'S HORSE.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_335">335</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_CONTRABANDISTA">THE CONTRABANDISTA.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_339">339</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_STAGE-STRUCK_GENTLEMAN">THE STAGE-STRUCK GENTLEMAN.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_351">351</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_DIAMOND_STAR">THE DIAMOND STAR.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_355">355</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_GAME_OF_CHANCE">THE GAME OF CHANCE.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_373">373</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_SOLDIERS_SON">THE SOLDIER'S SON.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_382">382</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#TAKING_CHARGE_OF_A_LADY">TAKING CHARGE OF A LADY.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_391">391</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_NEW_YEARS_BELLS">THE NEW YEAR'S BELLS.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_397">397</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr><td ><a href="#THE_OLD_YEAR_AND_THE_NEW">THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW.</a></td>
+<td class="tocpg"><a href="#Page_407">407</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_GOLDSMITHS_DAUGHTER" id="THE_GOLDSMITHS_DAUGHTER"></a>THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER.</h2>
+
+<h3>A LEGEND OF MADRID.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Many, many years ago, in those "good old times" so much bepraised by
+antiquaries and the <i>laudatores temporis acti</i>,&mdash;the good old times,
+that is to say, of the holy office, of those magnificent <i>autos</i> when
+the smell of roasted heretics was as sweet a savor in the nostrils of
+the faithful, as that of Quakers done remarkably brown was to our
+godly Puritan ancestors,&mdash;there dwelt in the royal city of Madrid a
+wealthy goldsmith by the name of Antonio Perez, whose family&mdash;having
+lost his wife&mdash;consisted of a lovely daughter, named Magdalena, and a
+less beautiful but still charming niece, Juanita. The housekeeping and
+the care of the girls were committed to a starched old duenna, Donna
+Margarita, whose vinegar aspect and sharp tongue might well keep at a
+distance the boldest gallants of the court and camp. For the rest,
+some half dozen workmen and servitors, and a couple of stout Asturian
+serving wenches made up the establishment of the wealthy artisan. As
+the chief care of the latter was to accumulate treasure, his family,
+while they were denied no comfort, were debarred from luxury, and,
+perhaps, fared the better from this very frugality of the master. Yet
+in the stable, which occupied a portion of the basement story of his
+residence,&mdash;the other half being devoted to the <i>almacen</i>, or
+store,&mdash;there were a couple of long-tailed Flemish mares, and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
+heavy, lumbering chariot; and in the rear of the house a garden,
+enclosed on three sides with a stone wall, and comprising arbors, a
+fountain, and a choice variety of fruits and flowers.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, the goldsmith's daughter and her cousin sat in their
+apartment, on the second story, peeping out through the closed
+"jalousies," or blinds, into the twilight street, haply on the watch
+for some gallant cavalier, whose horsemanship and costume they might
+admire or criticize. Seeing nothing there, however, to attract their
+attention, they turned to each other.</p>
+
+<p>"Juanita," said the goldsmith's daughter, "I believe I have secured an
+admirer."</p>
+
+<p>"An admirer!" exclaimed the pretty cousin. "If your father and dame
+Margarita didn't keep us cooped here like a pair of pigeons, we should
+have, at least, twenty apiece. But what manner of man is this
+ph&oelig;nix of yours? Is he tall? Has he black eyes, or blue? Is he
+courtier or soldier?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is tall," replied Magdalena, smiling; "but for his favor, or the
+color of his eyes, or quality, I cannot answer. His face and figure
+shrouded in a cloak, his <i>sombrero</i> pulled down over his eyes, he
+takes up his station against a pillar of the church whenever I go to
+San Ildefonso with my duenna, and watches me till mass is ended. I
+have caught him following our footsteps. But be he gentle or simple,
+fair or dark, I know not."</p>
+
+<p>"A very mysterious character!" cried Juanita, laughing, "like unto the
+bravo of some Italian tale. Jesu Maria!" she exclaimed, springing to
+the window, "what goodly cavalier rides hither? His mantle is of
+three-pile velvet, and he wears golden spurs upon his heels. And with
+what a grace he sits and manages his fiery genet! Pray Heaven your
+suitor be as goodly a cavalier." <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Magdalena gazed forth upon the horseman, and her heart silently
+confessed that the praises of her cousin were well bestowed. As the
+cavalier approached the goldsmith's house, he checked the impatient
+speed of his horse, and gazed upward earnestly at the window where the
+young girls sat.</p>
+
+<p>"Magdalena!" cried the mischievous Juanita, "old Margarita is not here
+to document us, and I declare your beauty shall have one chance." As
+she spoke she threw open the blind, and exposed her lovely and
+blushing cousin to the gaze of the cavalier.</p>
+
+<p>Ardently and admiringly he gazed upon her dark and faultless features,
+and then raising his plumed hat, bowed to his very saddle bow, and
+rode on, but turned, ever and anon, till he was lost in the distance
+and gradual darkening of the street.</p>
+
+<p>"Mutual admiration!" cried the gay Juanita, clapping her hands. "Thank
+me for the stratagem. Yon cavalier is, without a doubt, the mysterious
+admirer of San Ildefonso."</p>
+
+<p>Don Julio Montero&mdash;for that was the name of the cavalier&mdash;returned
+again beneath the casement, and again saw Magdalena. He also made some
+purchases of the old goldsmith, and managed to speak a word with his
+fair daughter in the shop; and in spite of the duenna, billets were
+exchanged between the parties. The very secrecy with which this little
+intrigue was managed, the mystery of it, influenced the imagination of
+Magdalena and increased the violence of her attachment, and loving
+with all the fervor of her meridian nature, she felt that any
+disappointment would be her death.</p>
+
+<p>One evening, as her secret suitor was passing along a narrow and
+unfrequent street, a light touch was laid upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> his shoulder, and
+turning, he perceived a tall figure, muffled in a long, dark cloak.</p>
+
+<p>"Senor Montero," said the stranger, "one word with you." And then,
+observing that he hesitated, he threw open his cloak, and added, "Nay,
+senor, suspect not that my purpose is unfriendly; you see I have no
+arms, while you wear both rapier and dagger. I merely wish to say a
+few words on a matter of deep import to yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Your name, senor," replied the other, "methinks should precede any
+communication you have to make me, would you secure my confidence."</p>
+
+<p>"My name, senor, I cannot disclose."</p>
+
+<p>"Umph! a somewhat strange adventure!" muttered the young cavalier.
+"However, friend, since such you purport to be, say your say, and that
+right briefly, for I have affairs of urgency on my hands."</p>
+
+<p>"Briefly, then, senor. You have cast your eyes on the daughter of
+Antonio Perez, the rich goldsmith?"</p>
+
+<p>"That is my affair, methinks," replied the cavalier, haughtily. "By
+what right do you interfere with it? Are you brother or relative of
+the fair Magdalena?"</p>
+
+<p>"Neither, senor; but I take a deep interest in your affairs; and I
+warn you, if your heart be not irretrievably involved, to withdraw
+from the prosecution of your addresses. To my certain knowledge,
+Magdalena is beloved by another."</p>
+
+<p>"What of that, man? A fair field and no favor, is all I ask."</p>
+
+<p>"But what if <i>she</i> loves another?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ha!" exclaimed the cavalier. "Can she be sporting with me?&mdash;playing
+the coquette? But no! I will not believe it, at least upon the say so
+of a stranger. I must have proofs."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Pray, senor, have you never observed upon the lady's fair arm a
+turquoise bracelet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yea, have I," replied the cavalier; "by the same token that she has
+promised it to me as a <i>gage d'amour</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you recognize the bracelet?" cried the stranger, holding up, as he
+spoke, the ornament in question. "Or, if that convince you not, do you
+recognize this tress of raven hair&mdash;this bouquet that she wore upon
+her bosom yesternight?"</p>
+
+<p>"That I gave her myself!" cried the cavalier. "By Heaven! she has
+proved false to me. But I must know," he added, fiercely, "who thou
+art ere thou goest hence. I must have thy secret, if I force it from
+thee at the dagger's point. Who art thou? speak!"</p>
+
+<p>"Prithee, senor, press me not," said the stranger, drawing his cloak
+yet closer about him, and retreating a pace or two.</p>
+
+<p>"Who art thou?" cried the cavalier, menacingly, and striding forward
+as the other receded.</p>
+
+<p>"One whose name breathed in thine ear," replied the other, "would
+curdle thy young blood with horror."</p>
+
+<p>Julio laughed loud and scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, by Saint Iago! thou art some juggling knave&mdash;some impish
+charlatan, who seeks to conceal his imposture in the garb of mystery
+and terror. Little knowest thou the mettle of a Castilian heart. Thy
+name?"</p>
+
+<p>The stranger stooped forward, and whispered a word or two in the ear
+of his companion. The young man recoiled, while his cheek turned from
+the glowing tinge of health and indignation to the hue of ashes; and,
+as he stood, rooted to the spot in terror and dismay, the stranger
+threw the hem of his cloak over his shoulder, and glided away like a
+dark shadow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Julio's heart was so far enlisted in favor of Magdalena, that it cost
+him a severe struggle to throw her off as utterly unworthy of his
+attachment, but pride came to his rescue, and he performed his task.
+He wrote a letter, in which, assigning no cause for the procedure, he
+calmly, coldly, contemptuously renounced her hand, and told her that
+henceforth, should they meet, it must be as strangers.</p>
+
+<p>This unexpected blow almost paralyzed Magdalena's reason. It was to be
+expected of her temperament that her anguish should be in proportion
+to her former rapture. At first stunned, she roused to the paroxysm of
+wild despair. Henceforth, if she lived, her life, she felt, would be
+an utter blank. Passion completely overmastering her reason, she
+resolved to destroy herself. This fearful resolution adopted, her
+excitement ceased. She became calm&mdash;calm as the senseless stone; no
+tremors shook her soul, no remorse, no regret.</p>
+
+<p>She was seated alone, one evening, at that very window whence she had
+first beheld her false suitor, and bitter memories were crowding on
+her brain, when the door of her apartment opened, and closed again
+after admitting her old duenna, Margarita. The old woman approached
+with a stealthy, cat-like step, and sitting down beside the maiden,
+and gazing inquisitively into her dim eyes, said, in a whining voice,
+intended to be very winning and persuasive,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What ails my pretty pet? Is she unwell?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not unwell," replied Magdalena, coldly, rousing herself to the
+exertion of conversing, with an effort.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, my darling," said the old woman, in the same whining tone, "I am
+sure that something is the matter with you. You look feverish."</p>
+
+<p>"I am well, Margarita; let that suffice."</p>
+
+<p>"And feel no regret for the false suitor, hey?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Magdalena turned upon her quickly&mdash;almost fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you know of him?"</p>
+
+<p>"All! all!" cried the old woman, while her gray eyes flashed with
+exultation.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you know him for a false and perjured villain!" cried the
+beautiful Spaniard.</p>
+
+<p>"I know him for an honorable cavalier; true as the steel of his Toledo
+blade!" retorted the duenna. "I speak riddles, Magdalena, but I will
+explain myself. Do you think I can forget your insults, jeers, and
+jokes? Do you think I knew not when you mocked me behind my back, or
+sought to trick me before my face? You little knew, when you and your
+gay-faced cousin were making merry at my expense, what wrath you were
+storing up against the day of evil. But I come of a race that never
+forgets or forgives; there is some of the blood of the wild Zingara
+coursing in these shrivelled veins&mdash;a love of vengeance, that is
+dearer than the love of life. I watched your love intrigue from the
+very first. I saw that it bade fair to end in happiness. Don Julio was
+wealthy and well born, and his intentions were honorable. After
+indulging your romantic spirit by a secret wooing, he would have
+openly claimed you of your father, and the old man would have been but
+too proud to give his consent. Now came the moment for revenge. I
+traduced you to your lover, making use of an agent who was wholly
+mine. Trifles produce conviction when once the faith of jealous man is
+shaken. A few toys&mdash;a turquoise bracelet, a lock of hair, a bunch of
+faded flowers&mdash;sufficed to turn the scale; and now, were an angel of
+heaven to pronounce you true, Don Julio would disbelieve the
+testimony. Ha, ha! am I not avenged?"</p>
+
+<p>"And was it," said Magdalena, in a low, pathetic voice,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>&mdash;"was it for
+a few jests,&mdash;a little childish chafing against restraint, that you
+wrecked the happiness of a poor young girl,&mdash;blighted her hopes, and
+broke her heart? Woman&mdash;fiend! dare you tell me this?" she cried,
+kindling into passion with a sudden transition. "Avaunt! begone! Leave
+my sight, you hideous and evil thing! But take with you my bitter
+curse&mdash;no empty anathema! but one that will cling to you like the
+garment of flame that wraps the doomed heretic! Begone! accursed
+wretch&mdash;hideous in soul as you are abhorrent and repulsive in person."</p>
+
+<p>Cowed, but muttering wrathful words, the stricken wretch hurried out
+of the apartment, into which Juanita instantly rushed.</p>
+
+<p>"Magdalena, what means this?" she cried. "I heard you uttering fearful
+threats against old Margarita. Calm yourself; you are strangely
+excited."</p>
+
+<p>"O Juanita, Juanita!" cried Magdalena, the tears starting from her
+eyes, and wringing her fair hands. "If you knew all&mdash;if you knew the
+wrong that woman has done me; but not now&mdash;not now; leave me, good
+cousin,&mdash;leave me!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are not well, dearest," said Juanita; "take my advice, go to bed
+and repose. To-morrow you will be calm, and to-morrow you shall tell
+me all."</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow! to-morrow!" muttered Magdalena. "Well, well; to-morrow you
+will find me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I will waken you, and sit at your bedside, and laugh your griefs
+away. Good night, Magdalena!"</p>
+
+<p>"Farewell, dearest!" said the heart-stricken girl; and Juanita left
+the chamber.</p>
+
+<p>Before a silver crucifix, Magdalena knelt in prayer.</p>
+
+<p>"Father of mercies, blessed Virgin, absolve me of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> sin&mdash;if sin it
+be to rush unbidden to the presence of my Judge! My burden is too
+great to bear!"</p>
+
+<p>She rose from her knees, took from a cupboard a goblet of Venetian
+glass, and a flask of Xeres wine. Into the goblet she first dropped
+the contents of a paper she took from her bosom, and then filled it to
+the brim with wine. She had already stretched forth her hand to the
+fatal glass, when she heard her name called by her father.</p>
+
+<p>"He would give me a good-night kiss," said the wretched girl. "I must
+receive it with pure lips. I come, dear father,&mdash;I come."</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely had she left her chamber when the old duenna again stole into
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>"If I could only find one of the gallant's letters," she muttered to
+herself, "I could arm her father's mind against her; and then if madam
+tried to get me turned away, she would have her labor for her pains.
+What have we here? A flask of Xeres, as I live! So ho, senorita! Is
+this the source of your inspiration when you berate your betters? I
+declare it smells good; the jade is no bad judge of wine!"</p>
+
+<p>As she spoke, the old woman, who had no particular aversion to the
+juice of the grape, hurriedly drank off the contents of the goblet,
+and immediately filled it up again from the flask.</p>
+
+<p>"There! she'll be no wiser," said she, with a cunning leer. "And now I
+must hurry off. I would not have the young baggage find me here for a
+month's wages!"</p>
+
+<p>Margarita effected her retreat just in time. Magdalena returned, after
+having, as she supposed, seen her poor father for the last time.</p>
+
+<p>Had not despair completely overmastered the reason of the poor girl,
+she would have shrunk from the idea of com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>mitting suicide. But misery
+had completely, though temporarily, wrecked her intellect. She felt no
+horror, no remorse at the deed she was about to commit. With a steady
+hand she raised the goblet to her lips, and then drank the fatal
+draught, as she supposed it, to the last dregs.</p>
+
+<p>"I must sleep now," she said, with a deep sigh. "I shall never wake
+again." And throwing herself, dressed as she was, upon her couch, she
+soon fell into a deep slumber.</p>
+
+<p>How long her senses were steeped in oblivion, she could not tell. But
+she was awakened by shrill screams, and started to her feet in terror.</p>
+
+<p>"Where am I?" she exclaimed. "Are those the cries of the condemned? Am
+I indeed in another world?"</p>
+
+<p>"But louder and louder came the shrieks, and now she recognized the
+tones as those of the old duenna. Deeply as the woman had wronged her,
+Magdalena's feminine nature could not be insensible to her distress.
+She sprang down the stairway, and now stood by the bedside of the
+duenna, over which Juanita was already bending.</p>
+
+<p>"What <i>is</i> the matter?" she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"The wine! the wine! the flask of Xeres! the Venetian goblet! I am
+poisoned!" cried the old woman, as she writhed in agony.</p>
+
+<p>The truth instantly flashed on the preternaturally-sharpened intellect
+of Magdalena. Her own immunity from pain confirmed the fatal
+supposition.</p>
+
+<p>"Good God!" she cried, in tones of unutterable anguish, "I have killed
+her!"</p>
+
+<p>The exclamation caught the keen ear of the malignant hag, suffering as
+she was. She raised herself up on her elbow, and pointing with her
+skinny finger to the horror-stricken girl, she screamed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes; you have murdered me! Send for a leech,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> a priest, an
+officer of justice! Do not let that wretch escape! She gave me a
+poisoned draught! she knew it&mdash;she confesses it! Ha, ha! I shall not
+die unavenged!"</p>
+
+<p>These fearful words caught the ear of Don Antonio, as, having hastily
+dressed himself, he rushed into the room. They caught the ear, too, of
+a curious servitor, who flew to the alguazil before he summoned priest
+and chirurgeon.</p>
+
+<p>In less than an hour afterwards, the old beldam had breathed her last,
+but not before she had made her false deposition to the officer of
+justice; not before she had learned that a paper containing evidence
+of poison had been found in Magdalena's room; not before she had seen
+the hapless girl arrested; and then she died with a lie and a smile of
+hideous triumph on her lips.</p>
+
+<p>We cannot attempt to describe the anguish of the old goldsmith, and
+the despair of Juanita, as they beheld Magdalena torn from their arms
+to be carried before a judge for examination, and thence to be cast
+into prison. Believing in her innocence, and confident that it would
+be established in the eyes of the world, they longed for the dread
+ordeal of the trial. The hour came, but only to crush their hearts
+within them. The guilt was fixed by circumstantial evidence on the
+unfortunate Magdalena. Poor Juanita was forced to testify to the facts
+of a quarrel between her cousin and the hapless duenna, and to violent
+language used by the former to the latter. A paper which had contained
+poison had been found in the apartment of the accused. Her own hasty
+confession of guilt, the dying declaration of the victim added</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i7">"&mdash;confirmation strong<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As proofs of Holy Writ."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Magdalena was condemned to die. In that supreme<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> hour, when her
+protestations of innocence had proved of no avail, the film fell from
+the organs of her mental vision. Knowing herself guilty of
+premeditated suicide, she saw in the established charge of murder a
+dreadful retribution. To make her peace with Heaven in the solitude of
+the prison cell, was now all that she desired. She had proved the
+worthlessness of life, and now she prepared herself to die. But her
+tortures were not ended. Julio, her lost lover, demanded an interview
+with her, and when, after listening to her sad tale, he renewed his
+vows of love, and expressed his firm belief in her innocence, earth
+once more bloomed attractive to her eyes; life became again dear to
+her at the very moment she was condemned to surrender it. Her
+execution was fixed for the next day, at the hour of noon. At that
+hour, she was to take her last look of her father, her cousin, her
+lover&mdash;the last look of God's blessed earth.</p>
+
+<p>The morning came. She had passed the night in prayer, and it found her
+firm and resigned. In the heart of a true woman there lies a reserve
+of courage that shames the prouder boast of man. She may not face
+death on the battle-field with the same defying front; but when it
+comes in a more appalling form and scene, she shrinks not from the
+dread ordeal. When man's foot trembles on the scaffold, woman stands
+there serene, unwavering, and self-sustained.</p>
+
+<p>One hour before the appointed time, the door of Magdalena's cell
+opened, and a tall figure, wrapped in a dark cloak, with a slouched
+hat and sable plume, stood before her. It was the same who had gazed
+on her so often in the church of San Ildefonso, the same who had
+encountered Julio in the narrow street with proofs of her alleged
+falsity. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Is the hour arrived?" asked Magdalena, calmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," replied the stranger, in a deep tone. "Can you not see the
+prison clock through the bars of your cell door? Look; it lacks yet an
+hour of noon."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, sir, you come to announce the arrival of the holy father,&mdash;of
+my friends."</p>
+
+<p>"They will be here anon," said the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not," said Magdalena, in the same calm tone she had before
+employed, "see you now for the first time."</p>
+
+<p>"Beautiful girl!" cried the stranger; "no! I have for months haunted
+you like your shadow. Your fair face threw the first gleams of
+sunshine into my heart that have visited it from early manhood. I love
+you, Magdalena!"</p>
+
+<p>"This is no hour and no place for words like these," replied the
+captive, coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay!" cried the stranger, with sudden energy. "Beautiful girl, I come
+to save you!"</p>
+
+<p>"To save me!" cried Magdalena, a sudden, wild hope springing in her
+breast,&quot;&mdash;to save me! It is well done. Believe me, I am innocent. You
+have bribed the jailer to open my prison doors; you have contrived
+some means of evasion. I know not&mdash;I care not what. I shall be freed!
+I shall clasp my father's knees once more. I shall go forth into the
+blessed air and light of heaven. God bless you, whoever you are, for
+your words of hope!"</p>
+
+<p>"You shall go forth, if you will," replied the stranger; "but openly,
+in the face and eyes of man. At my word the prison bars will fall, the
+keys will turn, the gates will be unbarred. I have a royal pardon!"</p>
+
+<p>"Give it me! give it me!" almost shrieked Magdalena.</p>
+
+<p>"It is bestowed on one condition: that you become my wife."</p>
+
+<p>"That I become your wife!" repeated Magdalena, as if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> she but half
+comprehended the words. "Forsake poor Julio! And yet the bribe, to
+escape a death of infamy, to save my father's gray hairs from going
+down to a dishonored grave! Speak! who are you, with power to save me
+on these terms?"</p>
+
+<p>The stranger tossed aside his sable hat and plume, and dropped his
+cloak, and stood before her in a rich dress of black velvet, trimmed
+with point lace, a broadsword belted to his waist. He was a man of
+middle age, of a fine, athletic figure, and handsome face, but there
+was an indescribable expression in his dark eyes, in the stern lines
+about his handsome mouth, that affected the gazer with a strange,
+shuddering horror.</p>
+
+<p>"Peruse me well, maiden," said the stranger. "I am not deformed. I am
+as other men. If there be no glow in my cheek, still the blood that
+flows through my veins is healthy and untainted. Moreover, though I be
+not noble, my character is stainless. If to be the wife of an honest
+man is not too dear a purchase for your life, accept my hand, and you
+are saved."</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" cried Magdalena, intense curiosity mastering her even
+in that moment.</p>
+
+<p>"I am the executioner of Madrid!" replied the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>Magdalena covered her face with her hands, and uttered a low cry of
+horror.</p>
+
+<p>"I am the executioner of Madrid!" repeated he. "I have never committed
+crime in my life, though my blade has been reddened with the blood of
+my fellow-creatures. Yet no man takes my hand,&mdash;no man breaks bread or
+drinks wine with me. I, the dread minister of justice, a necessity of
+society, like the soldier on the rampart, or the priest at the altar,
+am a being lonely, abhorred, accursed. Yet I have the feelings, the
+passions of other men. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> what maiden would listen to the suit of
+one like me? What father would give his daughter to my arms? None,
+none! And, therefore, the state decrees that when the executioner
+would wed, he must take to his arms a woman doomed to death. I loved
+you, Magdalena, hopelessly, ere I dreamed the hour would ever arrive
+when I might hope to claim you. That hour has now come. I offer you
+your life and my hand. You must be my bride, or my victim!"</p>
+
+<p>"Your victim! your victim!" cried Magdalena. "Death a thousand times,
+though a thousand times undeserved, rather than your foul embrace!"</p>
+
+<p>"You have chosen. Your blood be on your own head!" cried the
+executioner, stamping his foot. "You die unshriven and unblessed!"</p>
+
+<p>"At least, abhorred ruffian," cried Magdalena, "I have some little
+time for preparation! The hour has not yet arrived."</p>
+
+<p>"Has it not?" cried the executioner. "Behold yon clock!"</p>
+
+<p>And as her eyes were strained upon the dial, he strode out of the
+cell, and seizing the hands, advanced them to the hour of noon. Then,
+at a signal from his hand, the prison bell began to toll.</p>
+
+<p>"Mercy; mercy!" cried Magdalena, as he rejoined her. "Slay me not
+before my time!"</p>
+
+<p>But the hand of the ruffian already grasped her arm, and he dragged
+her forth into the corridor.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment, however, a loud shout arose, and a group of officials,
+escorting the goldsmith and Julio, waving a paper in his hand, rushed
+breathlessly along the passage.</p>
+
+<p>"Saved, saved!" cried Magdalena. "Hither, hither, father, Julio!"</p>
+
+<p>The executioner had wreathed his hand in her dark,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> flowing tresses;
+already his dreadful weapon was brandished in the air, when it was
+crossed by the bright Toledo blade of the young cavalier, and flew
+from his grasp, clanging against the prison wall.</p>
+
+<p>"Unhand her, dog!" cried Julio, "or die the death!"</p>
+
+<p>Sullenly the executioner released his hold, and sullenly listened to
+the royal pardon.</p>
+
+<p>Magdalena was soon beneath her father's roof,&mdash;soon in the arms of her
+cousin Juanita. Long did she resist the importunities of Julio; for
+though innocent in fact, judicially she stood convicted of a capital
+offence. But as time rolled on,&mdash;as her innocence became the popular
+belief,&mdash;she finally relented, accepted his hand, and beneath the
+beautiful sky of Italy, forgot, or remembered only as a dream, the
+perils and sorrows of her early life.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="PHILETUS_POTTS" id="PHILETUS_POTTS"></a>PHILETUS POTTS.</h2>
+
+<h3>A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Philetus Potts is dead. Like Grimes, he was a "good old man!" A true
+gentleman of the old school, he clung to many of the fashions of a
+by-gone period with a pertinacity, which, to the eyes of the
+thoughtless, savored somewhat of the ludicrous. It was only of late
+years that he relinquished his three-cornered hat; to breeches,
+buckles, and hair powder he adhered to the last. He was also partial
+to pigtails, though his earliest was shorn from his head by a
+dangerous rival, who cut him out of the good graces of Miss Polly
+Martine, a powdered beauty of the past century, by amputating his cue;
+while his latest one was sacrificed on the altar of humanity&mdash;but
+thereby hangs a tale.</p>
+
+<p>If Mr. Potts was behind his age in dress, he was in advance of it in
+sentiment. In his breast the milk of human kindness never curdled, and
+his intelligent mind was ever actively employed in devising ways and
+means to alleviate the sufferings of humanity, and to change the
+hearts of evil doers. His comprehensive kindness included the brute
+creation as well as mankind, in the circle of his active sympathy.</p>
+
+<p>We remember an instance of his sympathy for animals. We had been
+making an excursion into the country. It was high noon of a sultry
+summer day; eggs were cooking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> in the sun, and the mercury in the
+thermometer stood at the top of the tube. Passing out of a small
+village, we passed a young lady pleasantly and coolly attired in
+white, and carrying a sunshade whose grateful shadow melted into the
+cool, clear olive of her fine complexion.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Potts sighed, for she reminded him of Miss Polly Martine at the
+same age; and Polly Martine reminded him of parasols by some recondite
+association. Mr. Potts remembered the first umbrella that was brought
+into Boston. He always carried one that might have been the first, it
+was so venerable, yet whole and decent, like an old gentleman in good
+preservation. It was a green silk one, with a plain, mahogany handle,
+and a ring instead of a ferrule, and very large. Discoursing of
+umbrellas, we came upon a cow. Mr. Potts was fond of cows&mdash;grateful to
+them&mdash;always spoke of them with respect. This particular cow inhabited
+a small paddock by the roadside, which was enclosed by a Virginia
+fence, and contained very little grass, and no provision for shade and
+shelter. So the cow stood in the sunshine, with her head resting on
+the fence, and her tongue lolling out of her mouth, and her large,
+intelligent eyes fixed on the far distance, where a herd of kine were
+feasting knee-deep in a field of clover, beside a running brook,
+overshadowed by magnificent walnut trees.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor thing!" said Mr. Potts; and he stopped short and looked at the
+cow.</p>
+
+<p>The cow looked at Mr. Potts. One had evidently magnetically influenced
+the other.</p>
+
+<p>"She is a female, like the lady we encountered," said Mr. Potts,
+"but," added he, with a burst of feeling, "she has no parasol!"</p>
+
+<p>The assertion was indisputable. It was a truism,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> cows are never
+provided with parasols,&mdash;but then great men are famous for uttering
+truisms, and we venerated Mr. Potts for following the example.</p>
+
+<p>"It is now twelve o'clock!" said Mr. Potts, consulting his repeater.
+"At half past four, the shadow of the buttonwood will fall into this
+poor animal's pasture. Four hours and a half of torture, rendered more
+painful by the contemplation of the luxuries of her remote companions!
+It is insufferable!"</p>
+
+<p>Then Mr. Potts, with a genial smile on his Pickwickian countenance,
+expanded his green silk umbrella, mounted the fence, on which he sat
+astride, and patiently held the umbrella over the cow's head for the
+space of four and a half mortal hours. The action was sublime. I
+regret to add that the animal proved ungrateful, and, when Mr. Potts
+closed his umbrella on the shadow of the buttonwood relieving guard,
+facilitated his descent from the Virginia fence by an ungraceful
+application of her horns to the amplitude of his venerable person.</p>
+
+<p>It was in the summer following, that the incident I am about to relate
+occurred. It was fly-time,&mdash;I remember it well. We were again walking
+together, when we came to a wall-eyed horse, harnessed to a dog's meat
+cart, and left standing by his unfeeling master while he indulged in
+porter and pipes in a small suburban pothouse, much affected by
+Milesians. The horse was much annoyed by flies, and testified his
+impatience and suffering by stamping and tossing his head. Mr. Potts
+was the first to notice that the poor animal had no tail,&mdash;for the two
+or three vertebr&aelig; attached to the termination of the spine could
+hardly be supposed to constitute a tail proper. The discovery filled
+him with horror. A horse in fly-time without a tail! The case was
+worse than that of the cow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And here I am!" exclaimed the great and good man, in a tone of the
+bitterest self-reproach, "luxuriating in a pigtail which that poor
+creature would be glad of!"</p>
+
+<p>With these words he produced a penknife, and placing it in my hands,
+resolutely bade me amputate his cue. I did so with tears in my eyes,
+and placed the severed ornament in the hands of my companion. With a
+piece of tape he affixed it to the horse's stump, and the gush of
+satisfaction he felt at seeing the first fly despatched by the
+ingenious but costly substitute for a tail, must have been, I think,
+an adequate recompense for the sacrifice.</p>
+
+<p>I think it was in that same summer that Mr. Potts laid before the
+Philanthropic and Humane Society, of which he was an honorable and
+honorary member, his "plan for the amelioration of the condition of
+no-tailed horses in fly-time, by the substitution of feather dusters
+for the natural appendage, to which are added some hints on the
+grafting of tails with artificial scions, by a retired farrier in ill
+health."</p>
+
+<p>During the last year of his life, Mr. Potts offered a prize of five
+thousand dollars for the discovery of a harmless and indelible white
+paint, to be used in changing the complexion of the colored
+population, to place them on an equality with ourselves, or for any
+chemical process which would produce the same result.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Potts proposed to substitute for capital punishment, houses of
+seclusion for murderers, where, remote from the world, in rural
+retreats, they might converse with nature, and in the cultivation of
+the earth, or the pursuit of botany, might become gradually softened
+and humanized. At the expiration of a few months' probation, he
+proposed to restore them to society.</p>
+
+<p>A criminal is an erring brother. The object of punish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>ment is
+reformation, and not vengeance. Hence, Mr. Potts proposed to supply
+our prisoners with teachers of languages, arts and sciences, dancing
+and gymnastics. Every prison should have, he contended, a billiard
+room and bowling saloon, a hairdresser, and a French cook.
+Occasionally, accompanied by proper officers, the convicts should be
+taken to the Italian Opera, or allowed to dance at Papanti's. The
+object would be so to refine their tastes that they should shrink from
+theft and murder, simply because they were ungentlemanly. Readmitted
+to society, these gentlemen would give tone to the upper classes.</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Potts has gone in the midst of his schemes of usefulness. The
+tailless quadruped, the shedless cow, the unwhitewashed African, the
+condemned felon, the unhappy prisoner, actually treated as if he were
+no gentleman, in him have lost a friend. When shall we see his like
+again? Echo answers, Probably not for a very long period.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_GONDOLIER" id="THE_GONDOLIER"></a>THE GONDOLIER.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O, rest thee here, my gondolier,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rest, rest, while up I go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To climb yon light balcony's height<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">While thou keep'st watch below.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! if high Heaven had tongues as well<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As starry eyes to see&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O, think what tales 'twould hate to tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of wandering youths like me.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p ><span style="margin-left: 17em;" class="smcap">Moore.</span></p>
+
+
+<p>The traveller of to-day who visits Venice sees in that once splendid
+city nothing but a mass of mouldering palaces, the melancholy remains
+of former grandeur and magnificence; but few tokens to remind him that
+she was once the queen of the Adriatic, the emporium of Europe. But at
+the period of which we write the "sea Cybele" was in the very zenith
+of her brilliancy and power.</p>
+
+<p>It was the season of carnival, and nowhere else in Italy were the
+holidays celebrated with such zest and magnificence. By night millions
+of lamps burned in the palace windows, rivalling the splendors of the
+firmament, and reflected in the still waters of the lagoons like
+myriads of stars. Night and day music was resounding. There were
+regattas, balls, and festas, and the entire population seemed to have
+gone mad with gayety, and to have lost all thought of the Council of
+Ten, the Bridge of Signs, and the poniards of the bravoes.</p>
+
+<p>On a bright morning of this holiday season, a group of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> young
+gondoliers, attired in their gayest costume, were sitting at the head
+of a flight of marble steps that led up from one of the canals,
+waiting for their fares. A cavalier and lady, both gayly attired, and
+both masked, had just alighted from a gondola and passed the boatman
+on their way to some rendezvous.</p>
+
+<p>The gondolier who had conducted them, an old, gray-headed,
+hard-looking fellow, had pocketed his fee, nodded his thanks, and
+pushed off again from the landing.</p>
+
+<p>"There goes old Beppo," said one of the gondoliers on shore. "He will
+make a good day's work of it. I can swear I saw the glitter of gold in
+his hand just now."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes!" said another. "Let him alone for making his money. And
+what he makes, he keeps. He's a close-fisted old hunks."</p>
+
+<p>"And what is he so scrimping and saving for?" asked a third. "He is
+unmarried&mdash;he has no children."</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;but he is to be married," said the first.</p>
+
+<p>"How! the man's past sixty."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, comrade, but he will not be the first old fellow who has taken a
+young wife in his dotage. Have you never heard that he has a young
+ward, beautiful as an angel, whom he keeps cooped up as tenderly as a
+brooding dove in his tumble-down old house on the Canal Orfano? Nobody
+but himself has ever set eyes on her to my knowledge."</p>
+
+<p>"There you're mistaken, Stefano," said a young man, who had not
+hitherto spoken. He was a fine, dashing, handsome young fellow of
+twenty-six, in a holiday suit of crimson and gold, with a fiery eye,
+long, curling locks, and a mustache as black as jet.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's hear what Antonio Giraldo has to say about the matter!" cried
+his companions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Simply this," said the young man. "I have seen the imprisoned fair
+one&mdash;the peerless Zanetta&mdash;for such is her name. She is lovely as the
+day; and for her voice&mdash;why&mdash;<i>Corpo di Bacco</i>! La Gianina, the prima
+donna, is a screechowl to <i>my</i> nightingale."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Your</i> nightingale! Bravo!" cried Stefano, in a tone of mocking
+irony. "What can you know about her voice?"</p>
+
+<p>"Simply this, Master Stefano," replied the young gondolier. "When
+floating beneath her window in my gondola, I have addressed her in
+such rude strains of melody as I best knew how to frame. She has
+replied in tones so liquid and pure that the angels might have
+listened."</p>
+
+<p>"By Heaven! the fellow's in love!" cried Stefano.</p>
+
+<p>"Long live music and love!" cried Antonio. "What were life worth
+without them?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're in excellent spirits!" cried Stefano.</p>
+
+<p>"And why shouldn't a man be, on his wedding day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mad as a march hare," cried Stefano.</p>
+
+<p>"Mark me," said Antonio. "That girl shall never marry old Beppo&mdash;my
+word for it. She hates him."</p>
+
+<p>"She'll elope with some noble, then."</p>
+
+<p>"To be cast off to wither when he is tired of her charms? No! the
+bridegroom for Zanetta is a gondolier."</p>
+
+<p>"With all my heart," said Stefano. "But come, comrades, it is no use
+waiting here. Let us to our gondolas, and row for St. Marks. You'll
+come with us, Antonio."</p>
+
+<p>"Not I&mdash;my occupation's gone."</p>
+
+<p>"How so?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have sold my gondola."</p>
+
+<p>"Sold your gondola."</p>
+
+<p>"Ay&mdash;that was my word."</p>
+
+<p>"But why?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I wanted money."</p>
+
+<p>"Your gondola was the means of earning it."</p>
+
+<p>"Very true&mdash;but I had occasion for a certain sum at once."</p>
+
+<p>"And why not have recourse to our purses, Antonio? Light as they are,
+we would have made it up by contributions among us."</p>
+
+<p>"I doubted not your kindness&mdash;but my self-respect would not permit me
+to ask your aid. Good by, comrades; we shall meet again to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow. <i>Addio</i>!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>There was a brilliant masquerade that evening at the palazzo of Count
+Giulio Colonna. Invitations had been issued to all the world, and all
+the world was present. The finest music, the richest wines, the most
+splendid decorations were lavished on the occasion. Perhaps, among
+that brilliant company, there was more than one plebeian, who, under
+cover of the masque, and employing the license common at these
+saturnalia, had intruded himself unbidden.</p>
+
+<p>Old Beppo, the gondolier, was in attendance at the vestibule of the
+palace, feasting his avaricious eyes on the glimpses of wealth and
+luxury he noted within doors, when a gentleman in rich costume, and
+wearing a mask, beckoned him to one side, and desired a moment's
+interview.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know me?" was the first question asked by the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"No, signor," replied the old gondolier.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know these gentlemen?" asked the mask, slipping a couple of
+gold pieces into the miser's hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly," replied the boatman, grinning. "What are your lordship's
+commands?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is your gondola in waiting?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, signor. It lies below, moored to the landing."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis well; hast thou any scruples about aiding in a love intrigue?"</p>
+
+<p>"None in the world, signor."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll make a confidant of you."</p>
+
+<p>"I will be all secrecy, signor."</p>
+
+<p>"Briefly then, gondolier," said the mask, "I am in love with a very
+charming young person."</p>
+
+<p>"Well."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;and this young person loves me in return."</p>
+
+<p>"Good; and you are going to marry her."</p>
+
+<p>"Not so fast, gondolier. She has an old guardian, who, at the age of
+sixty, or more, has been absurd enough&mdash;only think of it&mdash;to propose
+to marry her himself."</p>
+
+<p>"The absurd old fool!" cried Beppo, not without some twinges, for he
+thought of his own projects with regard to Zanetta.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then," said the mask, "I have resolved to run away with her
+to-night. I have the opportunity&mdash;for she is here in the Palazzo
+Colonna. Now will and can you aid me? I will recompense you
+liberally."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! my lord&mdash;your lordship has come to the right market," said the
+old sinner. "I'm used to affairs of this kind. Has your lordship a
+priest engaged?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have not."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I can recommend one. Hard by is a chapel dedicated to Our Lady,
+where there is a very worthy man, accustomed to affairs of this kind,
+who will tie the knot for a moderate fee, without asking any
+impertinent questions."</p>
+
+<p>"His name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Father Dominic."</p>
+
+<p>"Good! he is the man for us&mdash;and you are the prince<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> of gondoliers.
+Get your gondola ready, and I will rejoin you at the foot of the
+stairs with the lady in a moment."</p>
+
+<p>Old Beppo hastened to prepare his gondola, and while so doing,
+muttered to himself,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well&mdash;this is a good night's work. I'm getting old, and I must
+soon retire from business. Every stroke of luck like this helps on the
+day when I shall call Zanetta mine. So, there's another old fool to be
+duped to-night! Serve him right! Why don't he keep his treasure under
+lock and key, as I do? But men will never learn wisdom. Here they
+come."</p>
+
+<p>The young cavalier reappeared upon the marble steps, leading a lady,
+masked and veiled, but whose elastic step and graceful bearing seemed
+to designate her as one moving in the highest circles. The young
+lovers took their seats in the centre of the light craft, and drew the
+curtains round them, while Beppo pushed off, and his vigorous oar soon
+sent the shallop dancing over the waters of the lagoon. After a few
+moments the motion ceased, and Beppo informed his patron that they had
+arrived at their place of destination. After making the boat fast, the
+gondolier landed, and entered the small chapel which stood on the
+brink of the canal. In a few moments he returned, and informed the
+masked cavalier that all was prepared. The gentleman then handed out
+the lady, and both entered the chapel, Beppo keeping guard without, to
+prevent or give notice of any intrusion.</p>
+
+<p>The marriage ceremony was performed very rapidly by Father Dominic,
+for he was just going to bed when the gondola arrived, and was duly
+anxious to despatch his business, that he might consign his wearied
+limbs to rest.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it all over?" whispered Beppo, in the ear of the cavalier, as he
+came out with his lady.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"All right," replied the mask, in the same tone of voice. "But one
+thing perplexes me. I have no place that I can call my home, to-night.
+The lady will be missed; my palace will be watched&mdash;I should incur the
+risk of swords crossing and bloodshed, if I sought to take her
+thither, to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"If my house were not so very humble," said the gondolier,
+hesitatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"The very thing," said the mask, joyfully. "No matter how humble the
+roof, provided that it shelter us. To-morrow we can arrange matters
+for flight, or for remaining."</p>
+
+<p>"Then get into the gondola, my lord, and I will row you thither in a
+few minutes."</p>
+
+<p>The party re&euml;mbarked, and soon reached the gondolier's residence.
+After fastening his craft, he unlocked his door; and striking a light,
+conducted his distinguished guests up stairs. As he passed one of the
+chamber doors, the old gondolier, addressing the masked lady as he
+pointed to it, said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"You have made a moonlight flitting, to-night, signora, and I wish you
+joy of your escape. But if you had been as safely kept as a precious
+charge I have in this room, you would never have stood before the
+altar to-night, with your noble bridegroom."</p>
+
+<p>"You forget that 'love laughs at locksmiths,'" said the cavalier.</p>
+
+<p>At the door of their apartments, the old man, before bidding them good
+night, pausing, said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, signor, but I would fain know the name of the noble
+cavalier I have had the honor of serving to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"You shall know to-morrow," replied the mask. "<i>Buona notte</i>, Beppo.
+Remember it's carnival time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The next morning Beppo was up betimes, anxious to learn the mystery
+connected with the married couple. He was not kept long in suspense.
+His patron of the preceding evening soon made his appearance, but
+masked as before.</p>
+
+<p>"Beppo!" said the stranger, "you rendered me an inestimable service
+last night."</p>
+
+<p>"You rewarded me handsomely, signor, and I shall never regret it."</p>
+
+<p>"Give me your word then, that you will never upbraid me with the
+service I imposed on you."</p>
+
+<p>"I give you my word," said the old man, surprised; "but why do you
+exact it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because," said the stranger, raising his mask, "I am no Venetian
+noble, but simply Antonio Giraldi, a gondolier like yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"You! Antonio Giraldi! And the lady&mdash;?"</p>
+
+<p>"Was your ward, Zanetta. You locked her chamber door, and took the
+house key with you&mdash;but a ladder of ropes from a lady's balcony is as
+good as a staircase; and as I told you last night, 'love laughs at
+locksmiths.'"</p>
+
+<p>Of course old Beppo stormed and swore, as irascible old gentlemen are
+very apt to do in similar circumstances, but he ended by forgiving the
+lovers, as that was the only act in his power. He not only forgave
+them, but gave up his gondola to the stronger hands of Antonio, and
+settled a handsome portion on Zanetta; nor did he ever regret his
+generosity, for they proved grateful and affectionate, and were the
+stay and solace of his declining years. Such is the veritable history
+of a carnival incident of the olden days of Venice.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_SURRENDER_OF_CORNWALLIS" id="THE_SURRENDER_OF_CORNWALLIS"></a>THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS.</h2>
+
+<h3>A MILITARY SKETCH.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was a great day for Dogtown, being no other than the anniversary of
+the annual militia muster; and on this occasion not only the Dogtown
+Blues were on parade upon the village green, but the entire regiment
+of which they formed a part, commanded by the gallant Colonel
+Zephaniah Slorkey, postmaster and variety-store keeper, was to engage
+in a sham fight, representing the surrender of Cornwallis. There was
+no attempt at historical costume, but it was understood that Slorkey,
+with his cowhide boots and rusty plated spurs, his long,
+swallow-tailed blue coat, and threadbare chapeau with a cock's tail
+feather in it, mounted on his seventy-five dollar piebald mare,
+promoted from the plough and "dump cart," was the representative of
+General Washington. Major Israel Ryely, his second in command, a
+native of the rival village of Hardscrabble, was to figure as Lord
+Cornwallis; and the selection was the more appropriate, since the
+private relations of these two great men were any thing but amicable,
+and they espoused opposite sides in politics. Dr. Galenius Jalap, an
+apothecary and surgeon of the regiment, a man with a hatchet face,
+hook nose, and thin, weeping whiskers, the color of sugar gingerbread,
+undertook the character of La Fayette at very short notice, and a very
+dim conception of the character he had.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The entire population of Dogtown and Hardscrabble turned out to
+witness the stupendous military operations of the day. On the American
+side were the Dogtown Blues, with four companies of ununiformed
+militia, armed with rifles, fowling pieces, and rusty muskets, and
+typifying the continental army. Their artillery consisted of two light
+field pieces, served by a select band of volunteers. These pieces were
+posted on an eminence commanding the entire plain. At the foot of this
+hill, Colonel Slorkey drew up his troops in line of battle, his left
+wing protected by an impassable frog pond, and his right resting on a
+large piggery, whose extent prevented the enemy from turning his flank
+in that direction.</p>
+
+<p>On the descent of an opposing eminence, likewise strengthened by two
+guns, Major Ryely placed the Hardscrabble Guards, the Sheet Iron
+Riflemen, the Mudhollow Invincibles, the Dandelion Fireeaters, and the
+Scrufftown Sharpshooters. A thousand bright eyes, from the commanding
+eminences, looked down on the serried ranks of bayonets, the
+brazen-throated artillery, the panoplied plough horses, the plumed
+commanders, the rustling banners, and all the "pomp, pride, and
+circumstance of glorious war."</p>
+
+<p>Preliminaries being thus settled, the commanding officers put spurs to
+their horses, and met in the centre of the plain, there saluting with
+their scythe-blade swords.</p>
+
+<p>"Major Ryely," said the colonel, rising in his stirrups, "the
+follerin' are the odder of pufformances: we open with eour
+artillery&mdash;you reply with yourn. Under kiver of eour guns we advance
+to the attack. You do the same to meet us&mdash;firin' like smoke. Arter a
+sharp scrimmedge you retire&mdash;send us a flag of truce with terms&mdash;and
+finally lay down your arms."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The major bowed till his ostrich feather touched the mane of his
+wall-eyed plough horse, then turned bridle, and regained his ranks at
+a gait something between a stumble and a rack. The representative of
+General Washington rejoined his men at a hard trot, rising two feet
+from his saddle at every concussion of his bony steed.</p>
+
+<p>"Fellur sogers!" roared the temporary father of his country; "yonder
+stands Cornwallis and his redcoats&mdash;only they haint got red coats,
+partickerlarly them in blue swaller-tails. We air bound to lick
+'em&mdash;hurrah for our side! Go inter 'em like a thousand of bricks
+fallin' off 'n a slated rufe. The genius of Ammerikin liberty, in the
+shape of the carnivorous eagle, soarin' aloft on diluted pillions,
+seems to mutter <i>E Pluribus Unum</i>&mdash;we are one of 'em! Hail Columby
+happy land! Sing Yankee Doodle that fine tune&mdash;cry havock! and let
+looset the dogs of war."</p>
+
+<p>Then commenced the horror of the sham fight. The continental guns
+opened in thunder tones. The British artillery hurled back their
+terrific echoes. Bang! bang! boom! boom! The canopy of heaven was
+stained with the sulphurous smoke. The drummers rattled away on their
+sheepskins&mdash;the fifers distended their cheeks till they resembled
+blown bladders. In the midst of all this noise and tumult, the
+undaunted Slorkey, and the indomitable Jalap, rushed to and fro, with
+clanking scabbards, and brandished scythe blades, twin thunderbolts of
+war.</p>
+
+<p>"Forrard march!" roared Slorkey. With the yell of demons, his fierce
+followers advanced to the onset, firing their blank cartridges with
+desperate valor.</p>
+
+<p>Equally alert were Major Ryely and his followers.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Their swords were a thousand, their bosoms were one." </p></div>
+
+<p>Their faces begrimed with powder, their eyes gleaming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> with ferocity,
+they descended to the plain&mdash;an avalanche of heroes. The soul of
+Headly would have swelled within him had he seen them.</p>
+
+<p>For more than one hour that deadly consumption of blank cartridges
+endured, and then Ryely and his troops retired in good order.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," said the major, "old Slorkey wants us to gin out&mdash;send a flag
+of truce&mdash;a white pocket handkerchief on a beanpole&mdash;and propose to
+surrender. But it goes agin my grit for Hardscrabble to cave in to
+Dogtown, when we could knock the hindsights off 'em, if we was only a
+mind to."</p>
+
+<p>"Hurray for the major!" responded the Hardscrabblers.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got a grudge agin the kurnil," said the major, "and if you'll
+stand by me, I'll take it out of 'em. What say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Agreed!" was the spontaneous response.</p>
+
+<p>While Slorkey was waiting for the covenanted flag of truce, he saw the
+hated Ryely rise in his stirrups, and heard his stentorian voice roar
+out the word, "Charge!"</p>
+
+<p>A deafening shout answered his appeal. In an instant Hardscrabble and
+its allies were down on Dogtown and its defenders. The latter stood it
+for a moment, but Ryely knocked the colonel off his horse, the surgeon
+had his nose pulled, the Dogtown Blues justified their name by their
+looks, and, seized with a sudden panic, fled&mdash;fled ingloriously from
+their native training field. The audacious outrage was
+consummated&mdash;history was violated&mdash;and General Washington was beaten
+by Cornwallis.</p>
+
+<p>Dire were the threats against Ryely uttered by the colonel, as he was
+carried home on a shutter; nothing short of a court martial was his
+slightest menace. But no court<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> martial ever took place. The military
+pride and glory of Dogtown were wounded to the quick; the force of
+popular opinion compelled Slorkey to resign, and to consummate his
+chagrin, his treacherous rival was chosen colonel of the regiment. So
+unstable are human honors&mdash;so ungrateful are republics.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_THREE_BRIDES" id="THE_THREE_BRIDES"></a>THE THREE BRIDES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Towards the close of a chilly afternoon, in the latter part of last
+November, I was travelling in New Hampshire on horseback. The road was
+solitary and rugged, and wound along through gloomy pine forests and
+over abrupt and stony hills. Several circumstances conduced to my
+discomfort. I was not sure of my way; I had a hurt in my bridle hand,
+and evening was approaching, heralded by an icy rain and a cold,
+searching wind. I felt a sinking of spirits which I could not dispel
+by rapid riding; for my horse, fatigued by a long day's journey,
+refused to answer spur and whip with his usual animation. In an hour
+after, I was convinced that I had mistaken my road, and night
+surprised me in the forest. I had been in more unpleasant situations;
+so I adopted my usual expedient of letting the reins fall upon my
+courser's neck. He, however, blundered on, with his nose drooping to
+the ground, stumbling every moment, though ordinarily as surefooted as
+a roebuck. So we plodded on for a mile, while the landscape grew
+darker and darker. At length, finding my horse less intelligent or
+more despairing than myself, I resumed the rein, and endeavored to
+cheer my brute companion. To tell the truth, I stood in need of
+something exhilarating myself. The sombre air of the eternal pines
+struck a deathly gloom to my heart, as one by one they seemed to rise
+on my path, like threatening genii extending their scathed limbs to
+meet me. The rain, fine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> and cold, bedewed me from head to foot, and I
+question if a more miserable pair of animals ever threaded their way
+through the mazes of an enchanted forest. I thought of the comfortable
+home I had left for my forlorn pleasure excursion, of that cheerful
+hearth around which my family were gathered, of wine, music, love, and
+the thousand endearments I had left behind, and then I gazed into the
+recesses of the shadowy wood that closed about me, almost in despair.
+I began to dread the apparition of some giant intruder, and was
+seriously meditating the production of a pair of pistols, when my
+quick glance caught the glimmer of distant lights, twinkling through
+some opening in the trees, and darting a beam of hope upon the
+wanderer's soul. My reins were instantly grasped, and my rowels were
+struck into the sides of my charger. He snorted, pricked up his ears,
+erected his head, and sprang forth in an uncontrollable gallop. Up
+hill and down hill I pricked my gallant gray; and when the forest was
+past, and his hoofs glinted on the stones of a street leading through
+a small village, I felt an animation that I cannot well describe. A
+creaking signboard, swinging in the wind on rusty irons, directed me
+to the only inn of the village. It was a two-story brick building,
+standing a little back from the road. I drew rein at the door, and
+dismounted my weary nag. My loud vociferations summoned to my side a
+bull dog, cursed with a most unhappy disposition, and a hostler whose
+temper was hardly more amiable. He took my horse with an air of surly
+indifference, and gruffly directed me to the bar room.</p>
+
+<p>This apartment was tenanted by half a dozen rough farmers, rendered
+savage and morose by incessantly imbibing alcohol; and by the
+proprietor of the tavern, a bluff man, with a portly paunch, a hard
+gray eye, and a stern Caledonian lip. He welcomed me without much
+frankness or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> cordiality, and I sank into a wooden settle, eyed by the
+surly guests of mine host, and the subject of sundry muttered remarks.
+The group, as it was lighted up by the strong red glare of the fire,
+had certainly a bandit appearance, which, however delightful to a
+Salvator Rosa, was by no means inviting to a traveller who had sought
+the bosom of the hills for pleasure. After making a few remarks, which
+elicited only monosyllables in answer, I relapsed into silence; from
+which, however, I was soon aroused by the entrance of the surly
+hostler, who in no very gracious manner informed me that my horse was
+lame, and likely to be sick. This intelligence produced a visit to the
+stable, and the conviction that I could not possibly resume my journey
+on the ensuing day; which was somewhat disagreeable to a man who had
+taken up a decided prejudice against the inn and all its inmates.</p>
+
+<p>Having succeeded in procuring a private room and a fire, I ignited an
+execrable cigar, (ah, how unlike thy <i>principes</i>, dear S.,) and
+endeavored to lose myself in the agreeable occupation of castle
+building while supper was preparing. Alas! my fancy came not at my
+call. I had lost my power of abstraction&mdash;the realities around me were
+too engrossing. Ere the dying shriek of a majestic rooster had ceased
+to sound in my ear, his remains were served upon my table, together
+with a cup or two of very villanous gunpowder tea, and a pitcher of
+cider, with coarse bread and butter <i>ad libitum</i>. Supper was soon
+despatched, and in answer to a bell, lightly touched, a
+vinegar-visaged waiting-maid, of the interesting age of forty-five,
+entered and removed the scarcely touched viands&mdash;the <i>rudis
+indigestaque moles</i>. I ventured to address her, with a request that I
+might be supplied with a few books, to enable me to while away the
+evening. I anticipated a literary feast from the readiness with which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+she rushed from the room; but she reappeared, bringing only Young's
+Night Thoughts, (very greasy,) a volume of tales with the catastrophes
+torn out, a set of plays consisting only of first acts, and an odd
+number of the Eclectic Magazine. This was sufficiently provoking; but
+I read a few pages, and tried a second cigar, and made the tour of the
+apartment, examining a family mourning-piece worked in satin, a
+genealogical tree done in worsted, and a portrait of the mutton-headed
+landlord and his snappish wife. I counted the ticks of the clock for
+half an hour, and was finally reduced to the forlorn expedient of
+seeing likenesses in the burning embers. When the clock struck nine, I
+rang for slippers and a guide to my bed room, and the landlord
+appeared, candle in hand, to usher me to my sleeping apartment. As I
+followed him up the creaking staircase, and along the dark upper
+entry, I could not help regretting that fancy was unable to convert
+him into the seneschal of a baronial mansion, and the room to which I
+was going a haunted chamber. It seemed as if my surly host had the
+power of divining what was passing in my mind, for when he had ushered
+me into the room, and placed the candle on the light stand, he said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you'll sleep comfortable, for there ain't many rats here, sir.
+And as for the ghost they say frequents this chamber, I believe that's
+all in my eye, though, to be sure, the window does look out on the
+burial ground."</p>
+
+<p>"Umph! a comfortable prospect."</p>
+
+<p>"Very, sir; you have a fine view of the squire's new tomb and the
+poorhouse, with a wing of the jail behind the trees. And I've stuck my
+second-best hat in that broken pane of glass, and there's a chest of
+drawers to set against the door; so you'll be warm and free from
+intrusion. I wish you good night, sir."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>All that night I was troubled with strange dreams, peopled by phantoms
+from the neighboring churchyard; but a <i>bona fide</i> ghost I cannot say
+I saw. In the morning I rose very early, and took a look from the
+window, but the prospect was very uninviting. The churchyard was a
+bleak, desolate place, overgrown with weeds, and studded with slate
+stones, bounded by a ruinous brick wall, and having an entrance
+through a dilapidated gateway. One or two melancholy-looking cows were
+feeding on the rank herbage that sprang from the unctuous soil,
+spurning many a <i>hic jacet</i> with their cloven hoofs. But afar, in the
+most distant part of the field, I espied the figure of a man who was
+busily occupied in digging a grave. There was something within that
+impelled me to stroll forth and accost him. I dressed, descended, and
+having ordered breakfast, left the inn, clambered over the ruinous
+wall, and stood within the precincts of the burial-place. The spot had
+evidently been used for the purposes of sepulture for a number of
+years, for the ground rose into numerous hillocks, and I could hardly
+walk a step without stumbling upon some grassy mound. Even where the
+perishable gravestones had been shattered by the hand of time, the
+length of the elevations enabled me to judge of the age of the
+deceased. This slight swell rose over the remains of some beloved
+child, who had been committed to the dust with only the simple
+ceremonies of the Protestant faith, bedewed by the tears of parents,
+and blessed by the broken voice of farewell affection. This mound, of
+larger dimension, was heaped above the giant frame of manhood. Some
+sturdy tiller of the soil, or rough dweller in the forest, perhaps cut
+off by a sudden casualty, had been laid here in his last leaden
+sleep&mdash;no more to start at the rising beam of the sun, no more to rush
+to the glorious excitement of the hunt, no more to pant in noonday
+toil. Over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> whole field of the dead there seemed to brood the
+spirit of desolation. Stern heads, rudely chiselled, from the grave
+stones, and frightful emblems met the eye at every turn. Here was none
+of that simple elegance with which modern taste loves to invest the
+memorials of the departed; no graceful acacias, or nodding elms, or
+sorrowing willows shed their dews upon the turf&mdash;every thing spoke of
+the bitterness of parting, of the agony of the last hour, of the
+passing away from earth&mdash;nothing of the reunion in heaven!</p>
+
+<p>I passed on to where the grave digger was pursuing his occupation. He
+answered my morning salutation civilly enough, but continued intent
+upon his work. He was a man of about fifty years of age, spare, but
+strong, with gray hair, and sunken cheeks, and certain lines about the
+mouth which augured a propensity to indulge in dry jest, though the
+sternness of his gray eye seemed to contradict the tacit assertion.</p>
+
+<p>"An unpleasant morning, sir, to work in the open air," said I.</p>
+
+<p>"He that regardeth the clouds shall not reap," replied the grave
+digger, still plying his spade. "Death stalks abroad fair day and foul
+day, and we that follow in his footsteps must prepare for the dead,
+rain or shine."</p>
+
+<p>"A melancholy occupation."</p>
+
+<p>"A fit one for a moralist. Some would find a pleasure in it. Deacon
+Giles, I am sure, would willingly be in my place now."</p>
+
+<p>"And why so?"</p>
+
+<p>"This grave is for his wife," replied the grave digger, looking up
+from his occupation with a dry smile that wrinkled his sallow cheek
+and distorted his shrunken lips. Perceiving that his merriment was not
+infectious, he resumed his employment, and that so assiduously, that
+in a very short<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> time he had hollowed the last resting-place of Deacon
+Giles's consort. This done, he ascended from the trench with a
+lightness that surprised me, and walking a few paces from the new-made
+grave, sat down upon a tombstone, and beckoned me to approach. I did
+so.</p>
+
+<p>"Young man," said he, "a sexton and a grave digger, if he is one who
+has a zeal for his calling, becomes something of an historian,
+amassing many a curious tale and strange legend concerning the people
+with whom he has to do, living and dead. For a man with a taste for
+his profession cannot provide for the last repose of his fellows
+without taking an interest in their story, the manner of their death,
+and the concern of the relatives who follow their remains so tearfully
+to the grave."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," replied I, taking a seat beside the sexton, "methinks you
+could relate some interesting tales."</p>
+
+<p>Again the withering smile that I had before observed passed over the
+face of the sexton, as he answered,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I am no story teller, sir; I deal in fact, not fiction. Yes, yes, I
+could chronicle some strange events. But of all things I know, there
+is nothing stranger than the melancholy history of the three brides."</p>
+
+<p>"The three brides?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay. Do you see three hillocks yonder, side by side? There they sleep,
+and will till the last trumpet comes wailing and wailing through the
+heart of these lone hills, with a tone so strange and stirring, that
+the dead will start from their graves at its first awful note. Then
+will come the judgment and the retribution. But to my tale. Look
+there, sir; on yonder hill you may observe a little isolated house,
+with a straggling fence in front, and a few stunted apple trees on the
+ascent behind it. It is sadly out of repair now, and the garden is all
+overgrown with weeds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> and brambles, and the whole place has a desolate
+appearance. If the wind were high now, you might hear the old crazy
+shutters flapping against the sides, and the wind tearing the gray
+shingles off the roof. Many years ago, there lived in that house an
+old man and his son, who cultivated the few acres of arable land which
+belong to it.</p>
+
+<p>"The father was a self-taught man, deeply versed in the mysteries of
+science, and, as he could tell the name of every flower that blossomed
+in the wood and grew in the garden, and used to sit up late of nights
+at his books, or reading the mystic story of the starry heavens, men
+thought he was crazed or bewitched, and avoided him, and even hated
+him, as the ignorant ever shun and dread the gifted and enlightened. A
+few there were, and among others the minister, and lawyer, and
+physician of the place, who showed some willingness to afford him
+countenance; but they soon dropped his acquaintance, for they found
+the old man somewhat reserved and morose, and, moreover, their vanity
+was wounded by discovering the extent of his knowledge. To the
+minister he would quote the Fathers and the Scriptures in the original
+tongues and showed himself well armed with the weapons of polemical
+controversy. He astonished the lawyer by his profound acquaintance
+with jurisprudence; and the physician was surprised at the extent of
+his medical knowledge. So they all deserted him, and the minister,
+from whom the old man differed in some trifling points of doctrine,
+spoke very slightingly of him; and by and by all looked upon the
+self-educated farmer with eyes of aversion. But he little cared for
+that, for he derived his consolation from loftier resources, and in
+the untracked paths of science found a pleasure as in the pathless
+woods! He instructed his son in all his lore&mdash;the languages,
+literature, history, philosophy, science, were unfolded, one by one,
+to the en<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>thusiastic son of the solitary. Years rolled away, and the
+old man died. He died when a storm convulsed the face of nature, when
+the wind howled around his shattered dwelling, and the lightning
+played above the roof; and though he went to heaven in faith and
+purity, the vulgar thought and said that the evil one had claimed his
+own in the thunder and commotion of the elements. I cannot paint to
+you the grief of the son at his bereavement. He was, for a time, as
+one distracted. The minister came and muttered a few cold and hollow
+phrases in his ear, and a few neighbors, impelled by curiosity to see
+the interior of the old man's dwelling, came to his funeral. With a
+proud and lofty look the son stood beside the departed in the midst of
+the band of hypocritical mourners, with a pang at his heart, but a
+serenity on his brow. He thanked his friends for their kindness,
+acknowledged their courtesy, and then strode away from the grave to
+bury his grief in the privacy of his deserted dwelling.</p>
+
+<p>"He found, at first, the solitude of the mansion almost insupportable,
+and he paced the echoing floors from morning till night, in all the
+agony of woe and desolation, vainly imploring Heaven for relief. It
+came to him first in the guise of poetic inspiration. He wrote with a
+wonderful ease and power. Page after page came from his prolific pen,
+almost without an effort; and there was a time when he dreamed (vain
+fool!) of immortality. Some of his productions came before the world.
+They were praised and circulated, and inquiries were set on foot in
+the hope of discovering the author. He, wrapped in the veil of
+impenetrable obscurity, listened to the voice of applause, more
+delicious because it was obtained by stealth. From the obscurity of
+yonder lone mansion, and from this remote<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> region, to send forth lays
+which astonished the world, was, indeed, a triumph to the visionary
+bard.</p>
+
+<p>"His thirst for fame was gratified, and now he began to yearn for the
+companionship of some sweet being of the other sex, to share the
+laurels he had won, to whisper consolation in his ear in moments of
+despondency, and to supply the void which the death of his old father
+had occasioned. He would picture to himself the felicity of a refined
+intercourse with a highly intellectual and beautiful woman, and, as he
+had chosen for his motto, <i>What has been done may still be done</i>, he
+did not despair of success. In this village lived three sisters, all
+beautiful and all accomplished. Their names were Mary, Adelaide, and
+Madeleine. I am far enough past the age of enthusiasm, but never can I
+forget the beauty of those young girls. Mary was the youngest, and a
+fairer-haired, more laughing damsel never danced upon a green.
+Adelaide, who was a few years older, was dark haired and pensive; but
+of the three, Madeleine, the eldest, possessed the most fire, spirit,
+cultivation, and intellectuality. Their father was a man of taste and
+education, and, being somewhat above vulgar prejudices, permitted the
+visits of the hero of my story. Still he did not altogether encourage
+the affection which he found springing up between Mary and the poet.
+When, however, he found that her affections were engaged, he did not
+withhold his consent from her marriage, and the recluse bore to his
+solitary mansion the young bride of his affections. O sir, the house
+assumed a new appearance within and without. Roses bloomed in the
+garden, jessamines peeped through its lattices, and the fields about
+it smiled with the effects of careful cultivation. Lights were seen in
+the little parlor in the evening, and many a time would the passenger
+pause by the garden gate to listen to strains<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> of the sweetest music,
+breathed by choral voices from the cottage. If the mysterious student
+and his wife were neglected by their neighbors, what cared they? Their
+endearing and mutual affection made their home a little paradise. But
+death came to Eden. Mary fell suddenly sick, and, after a few hours'
+illness, died in the arms of her husband and her sister Madeleine.
+This was the student's second heavy affliction.</p>
+
+<p>"Days, months, rolled on, and the only solace of the bereaved was to
+sit with the sisters of the deceased, and talk of the lost one. To
+Adelaide, at length, he offered his widowed heart. She came to his
+lone house like the dove, bearing the olive branch of peace and
+consolation. Their bridal was not one of revelry and mirth, for a sad
+recollection brooded over the hour. Yet they lived happily; the
+husband again smiled, and, with a new spring, the roses again
+blossomed in their garden. But it seemed as if a fatality pursued this
+singular man. When the rose withered and the leaf fell, in the mellow
+autumn of the year, Adelaide, too, sickened and died, like her younger
+sister, in the arms of her husband and of Madeleine.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps you will think it strange, young man, that, after all, the
+wretched survivor stood again at the altar. But he was a mysterious
+being, whose ways were inscrutable, who, thirsting for domestic bliss,
+was doomed ever to seek and never to find it. His third bride was
+Madeleine. I well remember her. She was a beauty, in the true sense of
+the word. It may seem strange to you to hear the praise of beauty from
+such lips as mine; but I cannot help expatiating upon hers. She might
+have sat upon a throne, and the most loyal subject, the proudest peer,
+would have sworn the blood within her veins had descended from a
+hundred kings. She was a proud creature, with a tall, commanding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
+form, and raven tresses, that floated, dark and cloud-like, over her
+shoulders. She was a singularly-gifted woman, and possessed of rare
+inspiration. She loved the widower for his power and his fame, and she
+wedded him. They were married in that church. It was on a summer
+afternoon&mdash;I recollect it well. During the ceremony, the blackest
+cloud I ever saw overspread the heavens like a pall, and, at the
+moment when the <i>third bride</i> pronounced her vow, a clap of thunder
+shook the building to the centre. All the females shrieked, but the
+bride herself made the response with a steady voice, and her eyes
+glittered with wild fire as she gazed upon her bridegroom. He remarked
+a kind of incoherence in her expressions as they rode home-ward, which
+surprised him at the time. Arrived at his house, she shrunk upon the
+threshold: but this was the timidity of a maiden. When they were alone
+he clasped her hand&mdash;it was as cold as ice! He looked into her face.</p>
+
+<p>"Madeleine," said he, "what means this? your cheeks are as pale as
+your wedding gown!" The bride uttered a frantic shriek.</p>
+
+<p>"My wedding gown!" exclaimed she; "no, no&mdash;this&mdash;this is my sister's
+shroud! The hour for confession has arrived. It is God that impels me
+to speak. To win you I have lost my soul! Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;I am a murderess!
+She smiled upon me in the joyous affection of her young heart&mdash;but I
+gave her the fatal drug! Adelaide twined her white arms about my neck,
+but I administered the poison! Take me to your arms: I have lost my
+soul for you, and mine must you be!"</p>
+
+<p>"She spread her long, white arms, and stood like a maniac before him,"
+said the sexton, rising, in the excitement of the moment, and assuming
+the attitude he described;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> "and then," continued he, in a hollow
+voice, "at that moment came the thunder and the flash, and the guilty
+woman fell dead upon the floor!" The countenance of the narrator
+expressed all the horror that he felt.</p>
+
+<p>"And the bridegroom," asked I; "the husband of the destroyer and the
+victims&mdash;what became of him?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>He stands before you</i>!" was the thrilling answer.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CALIFORNIA_SPECULATION" id="CALIFORNIA_SPECULATION"></a>CALIFORNIA SPECULATION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mose Jenkins did not take the California fever when it first broke
+out; for he was, as he acknowledged himself, "slow-motioned," and his
+skull was of such formidable thickness, that it required a good many
+months for an idea to penetrate into his brain. In the interim, he
+delved and digged away on a corner of his father's farm, having leased
+the land of the old gentleman, and purchased his time of the same
+respectable individual for the purpose of working it. But to work a
+farm where the rocks are so near together, that the sheep's noses have
+to be sharpened before they can graze between them, is not a very
+profitable business; and Mose, by dint of hard thinking, arrived at
+the conclusion that there might possibly be some other occupation less
+laborious and quite as lucrative.</p>
+
+<p>"Confound these granite rocks!" he exclaimed, one day, as he was
+ploughing, after he had broken his trace chains for a second time;
+"they hev another kind er rocks in Calliforny. Jehosaphat! If I was
+only <i>thar</i>. There a fellur hez to dig; but he gets pretty good
+wages&mdash;five thousand dollars a month is middlin', not to say fair."</p>
+
+<p>In short, Mose Jenkins made up his mind to go to San Francisco, having
+got the wherewithal to carry him in a packet to the land of promise.
+Fearful of opposition, he communicated his project neither to the
+author of his days, the venerable Zephaniah Jenkins, nor to the
+beloved of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> heart, Miss Prudence Salter, a cherry-cheeked damsel
+in a state of orphanage; but wrote down to a friend in Boston to
+secure a passage. He reserved his communications to the very last
+moment, when he was all ready for starting. His father gave him his
+blessing; Prudence was more difficult to manage.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a breach of promise case," said she, "I don't believe you mean
+to marry me arter all."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I do, ye silly critter," said Mose. "I'll come and make you Mrs.
+Jenkins; but I want to get the rocks first."</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't there rocks enough here?" asked Prudence, simply.</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh! I mean the rocks what folks carries in their pockets, an'
+treats every body with&mdash;all sollid gold."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe half them stories," said Prudence, contemptuously.</p>
+
+<p>"They're as true as gospil," said Mose, "'cause I see it in a paper.
+And there's Curnil Hateful Slowboy, that went from here last
+year&mdash;you'd ort to know him, Prudence, coz he was one of your old
+beaux&mdash;wall, now, they say he's one of the richest men in Calliforny.
+I tell you I'm bound to make my fortin' there."</p>
+
+<p>"And so am I," said Prudence, resolutely.</p>
+
+<p>"You!" exclaimed Mose.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I'm bound to go, too; and I'll follow you in the next ship, else
+you'll be green enough to marry one of them 'ere Ingine gals."</p>
+
+<p>"Prudence, you're spunk!" exclaimed Mose, in terms of the warmest
+admiration. "Good by! And I swow I'll marry you jest as soon as you
+set foot in Calliforny."</p>
+
+<p>Not to amplify on details, our adventurer landed there safely, and
+was, of course, like all verdant voyagers, much<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> surprised at the
+tariff of prices subjected to his notice. The porter who carried his
+trunk to the hotel charged him ten dollars; and though that same hotel
+was a leaky tent, a plate of tough beef was charged seventy-five
+cents, and a watery potato fifty. Business was very dull, too, at the
+moment of his arrival; the accounts from the mines were disastrous,
+and every thing announced an approaching crisis. Moses confided his
+griefs to Colonel Hateful Slowboy, his fellow-townsman, who was really
+one of the richest men in California, winding up with lamentations
+over the expected arrival of Prudence, whom he had promised to marry.</p>
+
+<p>"What kin I do with a wife," said he, "when I can't support myself,
+even?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very true," said the colonel. "Now, if it were me, the case would be
+very different."</p>
+
+<p>"Prudence done all the courtin' herself, curnil," said our hero,
+sulkily. "I never should have offered if it hadn't been for her. I
+kinder like 'er pretty well, though: she's a sort of pretty nice gal."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Mose," said the colonel, "what do you say to giving up your
+claim?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eh?" said Mose, pricking up his ears.</p>
+
+<p>"What'll you take for your right and title&mdash;cash down&mdash;no questions
+asked?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wall, I dunnow," said Mose, opening his jackknife and picking up a
+chip. "Prudence is a pretty nice gal, as you said, curnil."</p>
+
+<p>"As <i>you</i> said, Mr. Jenkins."</p>
+
+<p>"Wall, it's all the same. The critter's very fond of me and so be I of
+her. I had plaguy hard work, I tell you, to get her consent."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Come, come," said the colonel, "you want to drive a hard bargain with
+me. I'm willing to give you a fair price, say twenty thousand; but I
+don't want to be swindled."</p>
+
+<p>"Say twenty-five thousand and take her, curnil."</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;twenty."</p>
+
+<p>"Cash down?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cash down."</p>
+
+<p>"Done."</p>
+
+<p>"The money's ready whenever Prudence is."</p>
+
+<p>In a few days another ship from Boston came in, and Prudence was among
+the first to land. Mose met her with very little ardor, the colonel
+remaining in the background. After some little conversation, the young
+lady reminded her lover of their agreement.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't do it, Prudence; I've swore off&mdash;I've jined the old bachelor
+society."</p>
+
+<p>"But you promised me," screamed Prudence.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't help that; you can't get a verdict here for breaches of
+promise; there ain't no law here; every body goes on his own
+individual hook."</p>
+
+<p>"You cruel monster, why can't you marry me?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Cause."</p>
+
+<p>"'Cause what?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Cause," said Mose, retreating to a safe distance, "<i>I've traded you
+away</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Slowboy was at hand to catch the fair one as she came near
+falling. He was her old beau, and he knew the weak points of her
+character; moreover he had splendid red whiskers and a million of
+money&mdash;she married him, partly from ambition and partly from revenge.</p>
+
+<p>The moment they were united, Moses set sail for the United States,
+with his twenty thousand dollars, and ar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>rived back safely. When asked
+how he had accumulated such a sum in so short a time, he answered,
+"trading," and when questioned about the prospects of the El Dorado,
+would answer, with a grin, that it was a "great country for women."
+And this was the end of his California speculation.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_FRENCH_GUARDSMAN" id="THE_FRENCH_GUARDSMAN"></a>THE FRENCH GUARDSMAN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>With the army of Marshal Saxe, encamped near Fontenoy ready to give
+battle to the allies, there were not a few ladies, who, impelled by a
+chivalric feeling, or personally interested in the fate of some of the
+combatants, had followed the troops to witness the triumph of the
+French arms. Their presence was at once the incitement and reward of
+valor, for what soldier would not fight with tenfold gallantry when he
+knew that his exploits were witnessed by the eyes of her he loved as
+wife, mistress, or mother, and whose safety or honor, perhaps,
+depended on his prowess?</p>
+
+<p>Among those most distinguished for their beauty was the youthful
+Heloise, the lovely daughter of the Baron de Clairville, a French
+general officer. The <i>beaux yeux</i> of the demoiselle had enslaved more
+than one young officer, but of the host of suitors none could boast
+with reason of encouragement, except Henri de Grandville, and Raoul,
+Count de St. Prix, both commanding companies in the French Guards.
+Both were handsome and accomplished young men, and both had yet their
+spurs to win upon the field of battle. They had been fast friends
+until the pursuit of the same lady had created a sort of estrangement
+between them. Little was known of Henri de Grandville previous to his
+reception of his commission in the guards. He had been brought up by
+his mother in an old provincial chateau, and though his manners and
+education were those of a gentle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>man, still he seemed but little
+acquainted with the world, and above all ignorant of the lighter
+accomplishments of the courtier. Perhaps this very simplicity of
+manner and frankness of character, contrasting so strangely with the
+fashionable affectations of the court, endeared him to his comrades,
+and strongly prepossessed Heloise de Clairville in his favor. His
+rival was of a different stamp. Raoul de St. Prix was a dashing,
+brilliant officer, brave as steel, but fond of dress, reckless,
+dissipated, and extravagant. Yet his faults were those of his age, and
+belonged to the circumstances by which he was surrounded. The Baron de
+Clairville, while he left his daughter free to make her election, yet,
+as a plain, blunt soldier, rather than a courtier, secretly inclined
+to favor the pretensions of Henri. Still, his treatment of the two
+young guardsmen was the same, for they gave equal promise of military
+gallantry.</p>
+
+<p>It was on the eve of the battle of Fontenoy that Henri sought an
+interview with Heloise, who occupied a gay pavilion near her father's
+tent. He found her alone and weeping.</p>
+
+<p>"Mademoiselle," said he, "you are unhappy. Will you permit a friend to
+inquire the cause of your sorrow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Can you ask me, Monsieur de Grandville! Of the thousands of brave men
+who lie down to-night in peaceful slumber, how many sleep their last
+sleep on earth! How many eyes, that will witness to-morrow's sun
+arise, will be closed forever before it goes down at evening! O, what
+a dreadful business is this trade of war! My poor father, he never
+cares for himself, he never asks his men to go where he is unwilling
+to lead. I fear for his safety in the deadly conflict of to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"If the devotion of one faithful follower can save him, lady,"
+answered Henri, "be assured of his safety. I would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> pour out the blood
+in my veins as freely as water to shield the father of Heloise de
+Clairville."</p>
+
+<p>"But you&mdash;you&mdash;Henri&mdash;Monsieur de Grandville&mdash;you think nothing of
+your own life."</p>
+
+<p>"If I fall," answered the young soldier, "my poor mother will weep
+bitterly for her only son, though he perish on the field of honor. But
+who else will shed a tear for the poor guardsman?"</p>
+
+<p>"Henri!" exclaimed the young girl, reproachfully, and the soft eyes
+she raised to his were filled with tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it possible?" cried the young soldier. "Can my fate awaken even a
+momentary interest in the heart of the loveliest, the gentlest of her
+sex? Ah, why do you render life so dear to me at the moment I must
+peril it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Believe me," answered Heloise, drying her tears, "that I would not
+hold you back, when honor beckons you. It is to such hands as yours
+that the honor of the golden lilies is committed. I am the daughter of
+a soldier, and though these tears confess my sex, I honor bravery when
+it is displayed in a good cause. I honor the soldier as much as I
+detest the duellist."</p>
+
+<p>"Then listen to one whose sword was never stained with his brother's
+blood. I had thought to go to the field with my secret concealed in my
+own breast, but something impels me to speak out. I love you,
+Heloise&mdash;I have dared to love&mdash;to adore you."</p>
+
+<p>The fair girl blushed till her very temples were crimsoned over with
+eloquent blood. The young soldier threw himself at her feet, and
+taking the fair hand she abandoned to him, covered it with kisses; nor
+did he rise till he had received confirmation of his new-born hopes,
+and knew that, for good or ill, the heart of Heloise was irrevocably
+his. Finally, he was compelled to tear himself away,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> but he carried
+to his tent a feeling of delicious joy which steeled his mind against
+all thought of the chances of the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>The moments passed away in delirious revery, but at length he was
+interrupted by St. Prix.</p>
+
+<p>The count was in the worst of humors&mdash;his brow was dark with passion,
+and he threw himself into a seat, and flung his plumed hat on the
+table with an energy that betrayed the violence of his emotions.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter, Raoul?" asked Henri. "Has Saxe changed his plans?
+Do we fall back instead of advancing?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, thank God! there will be plenty of throat-cutting to-morrow, and
+the French Guards have the post of honor."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Henri, joyfully.</p>
+
+<p>"You seem in excellent spirits to-night, Captain Henri de Grandville."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could say as much of you, Captain Raoul de St. Prix."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me the cause of your felicity."</p>
+
+<p>"Enlighten me respecting your ill humor."</p>
+
+<p>"Willingly, on condition that you will explain your satisfaction."</p>
+
+<p>"Agreed."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then&mdash;you know the marked preference&mdash;marked preference, I
+say&mdash;always shown me by Mademoiselle Heloise de Clairville."</p>
+
+<p>"I will not dispute with you&mdash;go on."</p>
+
+<p>"You must have been blinded by absurd hopes not to have noticed it;
+every officer in the army looked to me as the <i>futur</i> of the lady.
+Well, sir, encouraged and led on by this siren, I made my proposals to
+her to-night. <i>Ventre St. Gris</i>! I had engaged to settle with my
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
+creditors out of her marriage portion."</p>
+
+<p>"Go on&mdash;go on&mdash;this is excellent, St. Prix."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, she rejected me&mdash;me, the Count de St. Prix. A prior
+engagement, forsooth! I wish to Heaven I knew the fellow! Before
+sunrise he should have more button holes in his doublet than ever his
+tailor made."</p>
+
+<p>"Captain St. Prix," replied Henri, "you have not far to look. In me
+behold the fortunate suitor. Come, come; confess that your pride, and
+not your heart, was engaged in the affair. The game was fairly played;
+the stakes are mine."</p>
+
+<p>"This trifling will not pass muster with me, sir," said the count,
+sternly. "Know&mdash;if you knew it not before&mdash;that Raoul de St. Prix
+never fixed his eye on a prize that he did not obtain, or missing it,
+failed to punish his successful rival. You are a soldier, and you
+understand me, sir," he added, touching his sword knot with his gloved
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"This is midsummer madness, Raoul," answered Henri, with good temper.
+"Had I been unsuccessful, painful, fatal as the disappointment would
+have been, I should have resigned the lady to you without a struggle."</p>
+
+<p>"That shows the difference between a gentleman and a <i>parvenu</i>,"
+retorted St. Prix.</p>
+
+<p>"A <i>parvenu</i>!" cried De Grandville, starting to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Who knows you? Whence came you? You are an intruder in our
+ranks."</p>
+
+<p>"I bear the king's commission."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and have not courage enough to sustain it. I have defied you to
+your teeth, and you refuse to fight."</p>
+
+<p>"My principles are opposed to duelling. In the words of the lady whose
+preference honors me, 'I honor the soldier as much as I detest the
+duellist.' Besides, has not the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> marshal strictly forbidden duels in
+the camp? Conscience, reason, authority, every consideration forbids
+my acceptance of the challenge."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," said St. Prix, "you shall submit to an indignity that
+disgraces a French gentleman forever." And raising his sheathed sword,
+he struck De Grandville with the flat of the scabbard.</p>
+
+<p>Henri's sword instantly flashed in the lamplight, and St. Prix drawing
+his rapier, they were instantly engaged in deadly combat. Both were
+expert swordsmen, and while one fought with the ferocity of hatred and
+disappointment, the arm of the other was nerved by a sense of wrong.
+The metallic ring of their blades was unintermitted, for neither
+paused to take breath, but, with teeth set and eyes glaring, thrust,
+parried, advanced, and fell back in the fierce ardor of the combat. At
+last, De Grandville, seeing an opportunity, sent his adversary's blade
+whirling through the air, and drawing back his weapon, prepared to
+thrust it through his breast.</p>
+
+<p>"Strike!" said St. Prix; "you have vanquished me in love and in arms,
+and there is nothing left me but to die."</p>
+
+<p>"Die, then, but on the field of battle, brave Raoul," said de
+Grandville, "and since I have deprived you of your sword, take mine; I
+shall be honored by the exchange."</p>
+
+<p>"Hold!" said a stern voice; and turning, Henri beheld with confusion
+the countenance of Marshal Saxe, who, attended by a file of
+musketeers, had entered the tent at the close of the duel. "You will
+give up your sword to this officer, Captain de Grandville," added he,
+pointing to a commissioned officer by whom he was accompanied. "Count
+de St. Prix, you will pick up your weapon, also, and surrender it.
+Officers who forget themselves so far as to seek each other's lives
+upon the eve of battle, with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> enemy before them, are unworthy of
+command. This is matter for the provost marshal."</p>
+
+<p>And the old soldier seated himself at the table, and eyed the
+offenders angrily and sternly.</p>
+
+<p>"May it please your excellency," said St. Prix, "I alone deserve to
+suffer. I insulted the gentleman, and forced him to fight."</p>
+
+<p>"Forced him to fight?" said the marshal. "Hadn't he read the orders of
+the day?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not claim your clemency, marshal," said Henri. "I committed this
+fault with my eyes open. But a man cannot always command his
+passions."</p>
+
+<p>"That's true, my lad. But what were you fighting about?"</p>
+
+<p>"A woman, your excellency," said St. Prix.</p>
+
+<p>"A woman! fools! a woman that's not to be had without fighting for
+isn't worth having. Well, well&mdash;boys will be boys. I pardon you on two
+conditions. In the first place, you must shake hands." Henri and Raoul
+advanced and joined their hands. "And in the next place, that you give
+a good account of yourselves to-morrow. <i>Sacre nom de Dieu</i>! I can ill
+spare two lads of spirit from the guards. And now," said the marshal,
+rising, after restoring their swords to the officers, "good night,
+gentlemen; and plenty of hard knocks to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>The next day witnessed one of those terrible encounters, whose
+sanguinary prints make a more indelible impression on the page of
+history than the records of the more generous deeds of peaceful life.
+The greatest gallantry was displayed on both sides, and on the part of
+the French no officers were more distinguished for their valor than
+the two guardsmen whose encounter on the previous evening we have just
+related. Raoul de St. Prix, in the early part<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> of the engagement, fell
+sword in hand at the head of his company, thus meeting with honor a
+fate he had earnestly desired. Henri de Grandville, in the course of
+the day, found himself in command of the regiment, every officer of
+higher rank having fallen. When the carnage had ceased, he laid a
+stand of captured colors at the feet of the commander-in-chief, and
+was complimented by Marshal Saxe at the head of the army, receiving
+assurance that his gallantry should be at once reported to the king.</p>
+
+<p>Flushed with triumph, the young guardsman flew to the presence of his
+mother, to receive her embrace and recount in modest terms the story
+of his deeds. She rejoiced in his safety, and sympathized with his
+joy. But all at once, as he made her the confident of other hopes, and
+enlarged on the prospect of his speedy union with Heloise de
+Clairville, her countenance changed, and her eyes became suffused with
+tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Henri," said she, "I knew nothing of this. Why did you not
+sooner apprise me of this fatal passion?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fatal passion, dear mother! Why do you thus characterize the love I
+bear to the purest, the most beautiful of her sex?"</p>
+
+<p>"She is, indeed, all that you paint her, Henri; but you must learn the
+hard task of renouncing your hopes. You can never marry her."</p>
+
+<p>"And why so? Do you refuse your consent?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! no. But the Baron de Clairville&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He regards me with a favorable eye. I have reason to think he knows
+of my attachment to his daughter, and approves of it. Even now, his
+congratulations had a marked meaning, which could hardly be
+ambiguous."</p>
+
+<p>"But a fatal, an insurmountable barrier lies between you and the
+object of your hopes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Do not keep me in suspense," cried the young soldier, "Explain this mystery, I implore you."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you fortitude to listen to a dreadful secret, the possession of
+which has well nigh destroyed the life of your mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"God will give me strength to bear any stroke," replied Henri. "Thanks
+to your instruction and example, I have schooled myself to suffer,
+unrepining, whatever Providence, in its infinite wisdom, sees fitting
+to inflict. If I have a soul for the dangers of the field, I have
+also, I think, the courage to confront those trials that pierce the
+heart with keener agonies than any the steel of a foeman can inflict.
+Fear not to task me beyond my strength."</p>
+
+<p>"I will be as brief as possible," said the lady. "Your father, Henri,
+was of noble birth and possessed of fortune. My own share of the
+world's goods was small, and yet it was on this pittance alone that we
+were sustained, till the exertions of a generous friend procured you,
+under the name of De Grandville, (my maiden name,) a commission in the
+guards."</p>
+
+<p>"Then De Grandville was not the name of my father."</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;he belonged to the noble house of Montmorenci. The early years of
+our married life were passed in happiness that I always feared was too
+great to be enduring. It was brought to a bitter and miserable end.
+Deadly enemies&mdash;for the best and noblest have their foes&mdash;conspired
+against your father, and he was accused&mdash;falsely accused, mark me&mdash;of
+treason to his king and country. I will not tell you by what forgery
+and perjury he was made to appear guilty&mdash;but he was convicted&mdash;and
+sentenced&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Sentenced!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, sentenced, and suffered. He died by the hands of <i>Monsieur de
+Paris</i>!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"<i>Monsieur de Paris</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"The executioner!"</p>
+
+<p>Henri uttered a piercing cry, and covered his face with his hands. He
+remained a long time in this attitude, his frame convulsed by the
+agonies of grief, while his mother watched, with streaming eyes, the
+effect of her communication. At length he removed his hands, and
+raised his head. His countenance was deadly pale,&mdash;the only indication
+of the train of emotions which had just convulsed him,&mdash;but his look
+was firm and high.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother," said he, pressing her hand, "I thank you. It was better to
+learn this dreadful secret from your lips than from the words of
+another. Henceforth we will live for each other&mdash;we shall have a
+common sorrow and a common fate. I pray you to excuse me for a few
+moments. I will soon rejoin you, but I have first a duty to perform."</p>
+
+<p>The young guardsman passed from his mother's presence to that of the
+Baron de Clairville.</p>
+
+<p>"Welcome, welcome! my brave boy," said the old soldier. "You have
+fairly won your spurs."</p>
+
+<p>"Sir, you flatter me," replied Henri, gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all. Saxe himself says that more distinguished gallantry never
+fell beneath his notice."</p>
+
+<p>"You think then, baron, I can claim a post of honor and danger in the
+next engagement?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can lead the Forlorn Hope if you like."</p>
+
+<p>"Enough, baron. I came to ask your forgiveness."</p>
+
+<p>"My forgiveness!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, for having wronged you unconsciously so lately as last
+evening."</p>
+
+<p>"Wronged me, and how, strange boy? you talk in riddles."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Last evening, sir, on the eve of battle, which might well,
+considering what followed, have been my last of life, I sought your
+daughter. Her manner, some unguarded words she dropped, emboldened me
+to declare a secret which I had hitherto kept fast locked in my
+breast. I threw myself at her feet, and told her that I loved her."</p>
+
+<p>"And she&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Confessed that she loved me in return."</p>
+
+<p>"Henri! my boy&mdash;my son&mdash;my hero! this news makes me young again! it
+gladdens my old heart like the shout of victory upon a stricken field.
+Is this your offence? I freely pardon it."</p>
+
+<p>"You know not all, baron. You knew that I was a poor and obscure
+soldier of fortune."</p>
+
+<p>"The man who has distinguished himself as you have done this day,
+might claim the hand of an emperor's daughter."</p>
+
+<p>"Baron, between me and Heloise there lies a black shadow&mdash;a memory&mdash;a
+horror, which forbids our meeting. The very name I bear does not
+belong to me."</p>
+
+<p>"And how may you be named, young man, if not De Grandville?"</p>
+
+<p>"Henri de Montmorenci," replied the young soldier.</p>
+
+<p>"De Montmorenci!" cried the baron. "That is a noble and historic name.
+The house of Montmorenci has been well represented in the field."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>And on the scaffold</i>!" added Henri, with deep emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"The scaffold!" exclaimed the baron. "Yes, yes; I remember now a
+dreadful tragedy. But <i>he</i> suffered unjustly."</p>
+
+<p>"No matter," answered Henri. "The ignominious punishment remains a
+stain upon our escutcheon. Men will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> point to me as the son of a
+condemned and executed traitor. Could I forget for a moment the
+tragedy which has rendered my poor mother an animated image of death,
+the finger of the world would recall my wandering thoughts to the
+horrors of the fact. The scaffold, with all its bloody paraphernalia,
+would rise up before me."</p>
+
+<p>"Henri, you are too sensitive," said the baron. "The best and bravest
+of France (alas for our history!) have closed their lives upon the
+scaffold. I believe your father innocent. If it were otherwise, you
+have redeemed the honor of your race. You deserve my daughter's
+hand&mdash;take her and be happy."</p>
+
+<p>"Make her the companion of my agony! Never."</p>
+
+<p>"Come with me," said the baron; "her smiles shall dispel these gloomy
+fantasies."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no! urge me not," said the young guardsman. "Let me return to my
+poor mother. She has need of all my consolation. I renounce forever my
+ill-fated attachment. Heaven, for its own wise purposes, has chosen to
+afflict me. Farewell, baron; I thank you for your kindness&mdash;your
+generous friendship. You and Heloise will soon learn that Henri de
+Montmorenci is no more. After the next battle, if you seek me out, you
+will find me where the French dead lie thickest on the field."</p>
+
+<p>"Noble-hearted fellow!" cried the baron, when Henri had left him. "He
+ought to be a field marshal."</p>
+
+<p>"Marshal Saxe requests your immediate presence, baron," said an
+aide-de-camp, presenting himself with a salute.</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur de Baron," said the commander-in-chief, when De Clairville
+had obeyed the summons, "I have chosen you to carry my despatches to
+the king; you will find yourself honorably mentioned therein, and I
+think the favor of royalty will reward your merit."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The baron bowed low as he received the despatches from the hand of the
+marshal, and was soon ready for the journey, first taking a hasty
+farewell of his daughter, whom he commended to the care of Madame de
+Grandville, (or rather Montmorenci,) during his absence.</p>
+
+<p>In five days thereafter, he reported himself to the marshal, and was
+then at liberty to attend to his private concerns. He found Heloise in
+the company of Henri and his mother, and the gloom depicted on their
+countenances presented a singular contrast to the radiant joy that
+sparkled in the eyes and smiled on the lips of the genial and
+warm-hearted old soldier. He kissed his daughter, saluted Madame de
+Grandville, and then, shaking the young guardsman warmly by the hand,
+exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Good news, Henri; I bring you a budget of them. The king has heard of
+your gallantry, and inquired into your story."</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven bless him!" exclaimed the mother.</p>
+
+<p>"The memory of your father," continued the baron, "has been vindicated
+by a parliamentry decree affirming his innocence. His forfeited
+estates are restored to his family; and I bring you, under the king's
+seal, your commission as full colonel in the French Guards, and
+letters patent of nobility, <i>Count</i> Henri de Montmorenci!"</p>
+
+<p>Henri and his mother were nearly overwhelmed by this good news; while
+Heloise clung to her father's arm for support.</p>
+
+<p>"No fainting, girl," said the happy baron. "That will never do for a
+soldier's wife. Here, take her, count, make her happy&mdash;and let us hear
+no more of your volunteering on Forlorn Hopes&mdash;at least, during the
+honeymoon."</p>
+
+<p>We need not add that the baron's injunctions were implicitly obeyed.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="PERSONAL_SATISFACTION" id="PERSONAL_SATISFACTION"></a>PERSONAL SATISFACTION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mrs. Tubbs had been a very fine woman&mdash;she was still good looking at
+the period of which we write, but then&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Fanny was younger once than she is now,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And prettier of course."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>She had been married some years. Tubbs was a gentleman farmer, and
+lived out in Roxbury, when land was cheaper there than it is now, and
+a man of moderate means could own a few acres within three miles of
+Boston State House. On retiring from the wholesale West India goods
+business, he had purchased a little estate in the vicinity of the
+Norfolk House, and raised vegetables and other "notions" with the
+usual success attendant upon the agricultural experiments of gentlemen
+amateurs; that is, his potatoes cost him about half a dollar a peck,
+and his quinces ninepence apiece. He had a greenhouse one quarter of a
+mile long, and kept a fire in it all the year round, at the suggestion
+of a rascally gardener, whose brother kept a wood and coal yard. We
+could tell some droll stories about Tubbs's gardening, if they were to
+the purpose. We will mention, however, that when he went into the
+vegetable business he was innocent as a lamb, and verdant as one of
+his own green peapods, and of course he made some curious mistakes. He
+was not aware that the infant bean, like the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> pious &AElig;neas, was "in the
+habit of carrying its father on its back," and so thinking that nature
+had made a mistake, he reversed the order of the young sprouts, and
+reinterred the aged beans. This was one of his many blunders. However,
+we have nothing to do with his gardening. We have said he was innocent
+as a lamb, but he was by no means so pacific; on the contrary, his
+temper was as inflammable as gun cotton&mdash;the slightest spark would set
+it in a blaze.</p>
+
+<p>To return to Mrs. Tubbs, whom we have most ungallantly left in the
+lurch since the first paragraph. She had been into Boston one day,
+shopping, and returned home in the omnibus. She sat between two young
+men. The one on her right was modest and well-behaved, while the other
+was entirely the reverse. He might have been drinking&mdash;he might have
+been partially insane&mdash;these are charitable suppositions; but at all
+events, he had the impertinence to address Mrs. Tubbs in a low tone,
+audible only to herself. He muttered some compliment to her
+appearance&mdash;talked a little nonsense&mdash;inoffensive in itself, but
+intolerable as coming from a stranger. Mrs. Tubbs made no reply, but
+she was glad to spring from the conveyance when the driver pulled up
+at the Norfolk House. To her great joy she espied the faithful Tubbs,
+attired in a <i>blouse</i>, and wheeling a barrow full of gravel down
+Bartlett Street, with all the dignity of a gentleman farmer, conscious
+of being a useful, if not an ornamental, member of society. She
+accosted him with,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Tubbs, love, I've got something to tell you."</p>
+
+<p>Tubbs relinquished the handles of the barrow, and sat down in the
+gravel.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Tubbs!" screamed the lady, "you've got your best pantaloons on."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, my dear; out with your story, for I'm busy."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Tubbs! I've been insulted!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tubbs's head instantly became as red as one of his own blood
+beets.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is the miscreant?" he yelled, jumping up.</p>
+
+<p>"A young man who sat next to me in the omnibus."</p>
+
+<p>"Describe him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Dark hair and eyes, with a black stock, light waistcoat, dark-colored
+coat and pantaloons&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Which way did he go?" interrupted Mr. Tubbs.</p>
+
+<p>"Into the hourly office."</p>
+
+<p>"'Tis well! Mrs. T., I'll have his heart's blood!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now, T., be calm!" interposed his better half.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. T., I will be calm," was the dignified reply, "calm as the
+surface of Mount &AElig;tna, on the eve of an eruption. Farewell, love, for
+a moment. Have an eye to the wheelbarrow while I have a settlement
+with this scoundrel!"</p>
+
+<p>With these words, Tubbs marched up the hill. He entered the hourly
+office, and looked round him. His first glance lighted on a young man
+who answered the description given by Mrs. Tubbs; but he wished to
+make assurance doubly sure, and so he accosted him politely,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Fine growing weather, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," replied the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"Peas are doing finely," said Mr. Tubbs.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>"If the weather holds, we can plant corn next week."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>"Pray, sir," continued Tubbs, "did you come out in the last coach?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did, sir."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Was there a lady in the coach?"</p>
+
+<p>"There was, sir. I recollect a lady sat next to me."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>You scoundrel! what did you mean by insulting my wife</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>This question was followed by a blow, which sent the young gentleman
+sprawling on the floor. Tubbs stood him up, and knocked him down again
+and again, like a man practising on a single pin in a bowling alley.
+The sufferer showed some fight, but Tubbs's blood was up, and he
+hammered down all opposition. The drivers looked on in admiration to
+see "Old Tubbs vollop the chap as had insulted his wife," and so he
+had it all his own way. He dragged the offender out of the office, and
+finished him off on the sidewalk. He was engaged in this laudable
+occupation, when his better half, tired of mounting guard over the
+wheelbarrow, appeared upon the field.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Tubbs!" she screamed.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute, my dear. I've only done one side of his head."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Mr. Tubbs! <i>That wasn't the man</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Tubbs suspended operations, and stood fixed in horror. The remains of
+the injured individual were taken into the hourly office. Then came
+remorse and apologies unaccepted and unacceptable&mdash;a lawyer's
+letter&mdash;an action for assault and battery, and heavy damages. The real
+offender had escaped, and was never heard of; the victim was the
+well-behaved young gentleman, who had sat on Mrs. Tubbs's right. Her
+description, which had answered for both, had occasioned the dilemma,
+which, while it proved an expensive lesson to Mr. Tubbs, was also an
+effectual one, and saved him from many a rash and hasty action, and
+induced him ever afterwards to adopt Colonel Crockett's golden maxim,
+"<i>Be always sure you're right, then go ahead</i>."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_CASTLE_ON_THE_RHINE" id="THE_CASTLE_ON_THE_RHINE"></a>THE CASTLE ON THE RHINE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>In one of those old feudal castles, which, perched, like eagle nests,
+upon the picturesque hills that overhang</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"The wide and winding Rhine,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>and with their crumbling and ivy-grown towers, arrest the eyes of the
+delighted traveller, as he views them from the deck of the gliding
+steamer, there dwelt, some years ago, the Baron Von Rosenburg and his
+lady Mathilde. The baron was a very proud man, and continually
+boasting of his descent from a "long and noble line of martial
+ancestors," gentlemen who were wont, in the "good old times," to wear
+steel on head, back, and breast, and each of whom supported a score of
+retainers in his feudal castle. Where the money comes from to support
+a princely housekeeping, when the head of the family has no property
+or employment, is sometimes a mystery nowadays; but no such doubt
+attached to the resources of the baron's ancestors. These gentlemen,
+when short of provisions, would sally forth at the head of their
+followers, and capture the first drove of cattle they encountered,
+without stopping to inquire into the ownership. Sometimes they made
+excursions on the river, and levied contributions on the little barks
+of traders who often carried valuable cargoes from one Rhine town to
+another.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But the privileges of the robber knights and bandit nobles were sadly
+shorn by the progressive spirit of modern civilization. With a total
+disregard of the immunities of chivalry, modern legislators declared
+that it was as great a crime for a baron to seize on a herd of cattle
+as for a peasant to steal a sheep. Hence the great families along the
+Rhine went into decay. The castles were dismantled, many noble names
+died out, very few remained, the representatives of the ancestral
+glory of olden times.</p>
+
+<p>Among them was the baron. He had been a soldier and a courtier in his
+youth, had spent some time abroad, and was about forty when he married
+a lady of the same age, and settled down in the old family castle of
+Rosenberg. Here he lorded it over the surrounding valley, the simple
+inhabitants of which, though exempt from all feudal obligations, yet
+in some sort regarded themselves as vassals of the baron. They made
+him presents of fish, accompanied him to the chase, and lent him a
+willing hand, whenever he required assistance at the castle.</p>
+
+<p>The baron, though he had the wherewithal to live comfortably enough,
+was yet a poor representative of the race he sprang from. His army
+consisted of a few farm servants, his cavalry of a ploughboy on a
+cart-horse, and his navy of a fishing boat. But, on the whole, he was
+happy. He passed his days either in trimming his vines or hunting, and
+his evenings in poring over mildewed parchments or books of heraldry,
+hunting up long pedigrees, and puffing a monstrous meerschaum till the
+atmosphere was as dense as the interior of a smokehouse. The lady
+Mathilde embroidered from morning till night.</p>
+
+<p>They had, however, a common source of grief. Fate had not blessed them
+with children. The lady yearned for the companionship of a daughter;
+the baron mourned at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> the prospect of the extinction of his name for
+want of a male heir.</p>
+
+<p>It was while pondering on this subject one day, as they were strolling
+out together, that the baron and his lady came upon the cottage of an
+old soldier named Karl Mueller, who cultivated a little vineyard not
+far from the castle.</p>
+
+<p>The old man was seated on a bench before his door, smoking, and so
+deeply plunged in revery, that he was not aware of the approach of
+visitors till the baron touched him on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"In a brown study, Karl?" said the baron.</p>
+
+<p>"I have enough to think about," returned the soldier "I'm getting old,
+and one thing troubles me."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that, my good fellow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you see, baron, I'm not alone here."</p>
+
+<p>"Not alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir&mdash;I&mdash;have&mdash;I have a little child here."</p>
+
+<p>"I never knew you were married, Karl."</p>
+
+<p>"Nor was I, your honor. For I always thought an infantry soldier ought
+to be in marching order, and never have more baggage than he could
+carry in his knapsack. No, no; the child is none of mine."</p>
+
+<p>"But it is related to you," said the baroness.</p>
+
+<p>"It is my grandchild, madam," replied the soldier, fixing his eyes on
+the lady; "and the child of as brave a man as ever faced the fire of
+the enemy. He might have been a field marshal, for the matter of that.
+I saw him at Oberstadt when the hussars went down to charge the
+enemy's light cavalry. Faith, madam, they made daylight shine through
+their ranks. Their curved sabres cut them up as the sickle does the
+corn. I saw him, the girl's father, madam, go into that affair with
+the hussars; but he came not out safe. It was pitiful to see his
+uniform all dabbled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> with blood, as he lay on the ground, and to see
+his pale lips quivering, as he prayed for water. I gave him the last
+drop in my canteen, and I swore I'd protect the child. But I fear I'm
+getting too old for the task."</p>
+
+<p>The baroness, whose eyes were filled with tears, turned to her
+husband, and asked,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Shall we not give a shelter to the child of a brave man?"</p>
+
+<p>The baron nodded, and the proposal was accepted by Karl, who retired
+into his cottage, and immediately reappeared, bringing forth a
+beautiful girl of ten, with fair hair and blue eyes, and a form of
+graceful symmetry.</p>
+
+<p>"A girl! nonsense!" said the baron, in a tone of disappointment. But
+the baroness folded the child in her arms with rapture. The child
+responded to the caresses of the lady with equal ardor.</p>
+
+<p>So the little Adelaide was soon domesticated in the castle which her
+frolic spirit filled with gayety. The baroness renewed her youth in
+gazing upon hers, and the baron never scolded her, even when she took
+his pipe out of his mouth, or rummaged among his parchments.</p>
+
+<p>As she grew up to womanhood, she became more serious and thoughtful.
+She was anxious to learn every thing touching her father, but on this
+subject the baroness could give her no information; and Karl, her
+grandfather, seemed equally averse to speaking of it. When hard
+pressed, he promised to speak out at some future time.</p>
+
+<p>One day she was summoned in great haste to the cottage of old Karl.
+The old man had suddenly been taken ill, and required the presence of
+his granddaughter. It was evident, at a glance, that he was on his
+death bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Adelaide," said he, "forgive me, before I die, that I may depart in
+peace."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Forgive you, dear grandfather! am I not deeply indebted to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should have reposed more confidence in you; I should have spoken to
+you about your parents."</p>
+
+<p>"My father?" asked Adelaide.</p>
+
+<p>"Was a brave and good man. But of your mother&mdash;your good mother&mdash;she
+was&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Here a spasm interrupted his utterance, and he lay back on his pillow
+gasping for breath. After a brief space he seemed to revive again, and
+made strong efforts to express himself, but his breath failed him. He
+motioned to Adelaide to fetch him writing materials, and while she
+held a sheet of paper on a book before him, he essayed with feeble
+fingers to trace a sentence with a pen. But the rapid approach of
+death foiled all his endeavors to communicate a secret that evidently
+lay close to his heart; and while the young girl bent over him in an
+agony of grief, he gently sighed away his last. The baron and baroness
+found their <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;e</i>, an hour afterwards, still sorrowing by the
+bedside of her early friend and protector. With gentle violence they
+removed her from the chamber of death, and took her home to the
+castle, where they gave directions to the proper persons to take
+charge of the old soldier's remains, and inter them with that decent
+respect which was due to his character and station. Among his effects
+was found a will, in which he made Adelaide his heiress, bequeathing
+to her his little landed estate, and a small sum in gold, the produce
+of his toil and frugality. This event cast a gloom over the spirits of
+the young maiden, from which, however, her religious persuasions, the
+attention of her friends, and the elasticity of her youth, eventually
+relieved her.</p>
+
+<p>The old castle on the Rhine was gay once more, when Rudolph Ernstein,
+a nephew of the baron, a gay young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> captain of hussars, whose
+gallantry and beauty had given him reputation at Vienna, came to pay a
+long visit to his uncle. He was a high-spirited and accomplished young
+man, had served with distinction, was a devoted admirer of the ladies,
+and one of those military Adonises who are born to conquest. He was
+charmed to find domesticated beneath the old roof tree so fair and
+lovable a girl as Adelaide, and of course did his best to render his
+society agreeable to her. He sang to her songs of his own writing, to
+airs of his own composition, accompanied on his guitar; he told her
+tales of strange lands that he had visited, of cavalry skirmishes in
+which he had participated, sketched her favorite scenes in pencil, and
+offered to teach her the newest dances in vogue at Vienna. He was a
+dangerous companion to a young girl whose imagination needed but a
+spark to kindle it, and for a time she indulged in the wild hope that
+she had made a conquest of Rudolph. But then her reason told her, that
+even if he loved her, it would be impossible for a young man of family
+to offer his hand to an almost portionless girl, about whose origin a
+veil of mystery seemed wrapped. The names of her parents, even, had
+never been disclosed to her, by the lips of probably the only man who
+knew her history, and those lips were now cold and mute in death.
+Hence the little gleam of sunshine which had for a moment penetrated
+her heart was speedily quenched in a deeper darkness than that which
+reigned in it before, and she could not help viewing the visit of
+Rudolph as an ominous event.</p>
+
+<p>One morning, she was witness to a scene which dashed out the last
+faint glimmering of hope. They were all seated at a huge oaken table,
+from which the servants had just removed the apparatus of the morning
+meal.</p>
+
+<p>"Rudolph," said the baron, after lighting his pipe,&mdash;an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> operation of
+great solemnity and deliberation, and taking a few whiffs to make sure
+that its contents were duly ignited,&mdash;"Rudolph, do you know why I sent
+for you to Rosenburg?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, sir," replied the hussar, "I suppose it was because you really
+have a sort of regard for an idle, good-for-nothing fellow, whose
+redeeming quality is an attachment to a very kind old uncle, and whose
+nonsense and good spirits are perhaps a partial compensation for the
+trouble he gives every body in this tumble-down old castle."</p>
+
+<p>"Tumble-down old castle!" exclaimed the baron, in high dudgeon, the
+latter part of the soldier's speech cancelling the former; "why, you
+jackanapes, it will stand for centuries. It resisted the cannon of
+Napoleon, and it bids defiance to the battering of time. Yes, sir,
+Rosenburg will stand long after your great-great-grandchildren are
+superannuated."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not likely to be blessed in the way you hint at, uncle," said
+the soldier, carelessly. "I am likely, for aught I see, to die a
+bachelor."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" said the baron. "What's to become of your family name? Do
+you think I will allow it to die out, like the Pumpernickels, the
+Snaphausens, and the Ollenstoffenburgers? No, boy. I sent for you to
+tell you that I have contracted for your hand with my friend the Baron
+Von Steinberg."</p>
+
+<p>"Really, sir, you dispose of me in a very cavalier way."</p>
+
+<p>"That's because you're too careless or lazy to look out for yourself,"
+retorted the baron. "But then you can have no possible objection to
+the present match. The fair Julia is just twenty&mdash;eyes, you dog&mdash;lips,
+you rascal&mdash;a shape, you blockhead, to bewitch an anchorite. And then
+she has the gelt&mdash;the money, my boy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A commodity of which I happen to be minus," said the soldier.</p>
+
+<p>"Arn't you my heir?" asked the baron.</p>
+
+<p>"You are very kind," said the hussar, with a slight sigh.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced at Adelaide, but he read no sentiment on her calm and
+pensive countenance.</p>
+
+<p>"She's as cold as a glacier on the Donderberg!" he muttered to
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir&mdash;you haven't given me an answer," said the baron,
+impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear uncle," said the soldier, jumping up, and snatching his
+fowling-piece, "it's a glorious morning for sport; and I'm much
+mistaken if I don't add a half dozen brace of birds to your bill of
+fare to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"But the fair Julia Von Steinberg?" said the baron.</p>
+
+<p>"O! I forgot," said Rudolph. "I'm entirely in your hands. Do with me
+as you please. My profession, you know, has given me habits of
+obedience. I suppose I must sacrifice myself. Good morning."</p>
+
+<p>And away he went to enjoy his sport upon the mountains.</p>
+
+<p>"Young, lovely, and rich!" said poor Adelaide, with a sigh, when she
+had regained her room. "If this be true, she is indeed worthy of
+Ernstein. He will love her&mdash;they will be happy&mdash;and I&mdash;I can but wish
+them joy, and die."</p>
+
+<p>There was great preparation in the castle Von Rosenburg, that day
+week, for the reception of the prospective bride. Every thing was
+cleaned and furbished up, from battlement to dungeon keep. An old flag
+with the family arms was hoisted from the rampart, and the butler, who
+had served in the wars of the Alliance, mounted an old swivel on the
+ramparts with the intention of firing it off, on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> approach of the
+old family carriage of the Von Steinbergs, Captain Rudolph Von
+Ernstein, in his splendid hussar uniform, looked the beau ideal of a
+soldier lover. Even the baron was rejuvenated by a court suit that had
+not seen the light since the nuptials of Maria Louisa and the Emperor
+Napoleon.</p>
+
+<p>At last the carriage appeared. The villagers and hangers on of the
+establishment hurrahed in the court yard as it drew up, the old butler
+applied the match to the priming of the swivel and was prostrated by
+the discharge, while the baron came near tumbling over his sword in
+his eagerness to welcome his old friend and his old friend's daughter.</p>
+
+<p>The Baron Von Steinberg alighted and bowed his thanks; while Captain
+Rudolph handed out the lovely Julia. As her light foot touched the
+pavement, Adelaide advanced to offer a bouquet; at one glance she
+appreciated the exquisite beauty of her rival, and dropping the
+flowers, retired to an obscure corner of the court yard to conceal her
+anguish and despair.</p>
+
+<p>The festive train swept into the castle. All was gayety and uproar
+within doors. The baron could scarce contain the transports of his
+joy; and Von Steinberg was equally excited. The excitement, however,
+seemed to be too much for the fair Julia, whose cheek was paler than
+the satin robe she wore, while Rudolph, perhaps from sympathy, was
+uneasy and agitated.</p>
+
+<p>At last the bell of the castle was rung for dinner, and the party
+proceeded to the great hall. But Adelaide did not make her appearance.
+Search was made for her; she was not in her apartment. An angry flush
+overspread the brow of old Rosenburg at this announcement, and after
+some minutes passed in waiting for her appearance, he ordered dinner
+to be served without her. The repast was not a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> very gay one,
+notwithstanding the efforts of the master of the house to make it so.
+Night had long fallen, and Adelaide did not reappear. The family, from
+being vexed, now became alarmed, and it was determined to go in search
+of her. Rudolph and the baron went forth with two servants and torches
+to scour the woods, after vainly searching through the castle. One of
+the men went on in advance. He had been gone but a short time when he
+came back speechless with grief and amazement. Rudolph and his uncle
+pushed forward through the thickets, and on the banks of a small
+stream, dammed up to form a lake, they found the bonnet and shawl of
+the missing girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Good God!" exclaimed Rudolph, "she has destroyed herself. I have
+noticed a strange wildness in her appearance for several days past; in
+a fit of mental aberration she has wandered away, and here found her
+death."</p>
+
+<p>A piercing scream was heard at this moment. The baroness, who had
+followed them, had recognized the garments of Adelaide.</p>
+
+<p>"My child! my child!" she shrieked, "my own! my beautiful! she is no
+more."</p>
+
+<p>"This is worse and worse," said the baron, wringing his hands. "This
+will make us all mad."</p>
+
+<p>But at this moment a boat was seen approaching. It was the miller, who
+brought with him the body of Adelaide, dripping as it had been drawn
+from the water. He laid her fair form upon the bank. The baroness, who
+could not be restrained, threw herself beside her, and kissed her pale
+lips. Rudolph, too, seized the cold hands.</p>
+
+<p>"She lives!" he exclaimed. "She is not lost to us!"</p>
+
+<p>"Rudolph&mdash;dear Rudolph!" murmured the poor girl.</p>
+
+<p>"My child! my child! she lives!" cried the baroness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And it was indeed so. She had thrown herself into the water, indeed,
+but the miller, who happened to be at hand, had flown to her rescue,
+and she was now, by the united efforts of her friends, restored to
+consciousness.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear, dear Adelaide!" cried the baroness; "your life repays me now
+for all my sufferings. Yes, dearest, you are my own, my only child.
+Yes, baron," she added, noticing the incredulous expression of her
+husband&mdash;"the supposed death of a daughter has wrung from a mother's
+heart the despairing cry that betrayed her secret. In former days, I
+married, secretly, Colonel Schonfeldt, a brave soldier of the emperor,
+against whom my parents cherished a deadly enmity. He fell upon the
+field of battle, and this poor girl, the fruit of our love, was
+committed to the hands of strangers, till such time as I could take
+her to my heart. I avow it without shame, nor can you, baron, whose
+noble qualities won my heart, reproach me with the love I bear this
+dear girl."</p>
+
+<p>"She is my child now," said the baron, "as well as yours. Let us take
+her back to the castle; she is a precious charge."</p>
+
+<p>"I will see to her," said Rudolph, "and it shall not be my fault if
+she ever have another protector."</p>
+
+<p>So the party regained the castle, where Von Steinberg and Julia were
+anxiously awaiting their return.</p>
+
+<p>When Adelaide had been carefully attended to, Rudolph sought his uncle
+and guests in the great hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Julia Von Steinberg," said the soldier, "since confessions are
+the order of the night, I must place mine on record. I met you to-day
+in obedience to orders, believing my heart was my own. The event of
+to-night has told me too truly that I had unconsciously lost it. But I
+am a man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> of honor, and if you will accept my hand without my heart,
+it is yours."</p>
+
+<p>"Captain Ernstein," replied the beauty, "I thank you for your frank
+confession. I cannot possibly accept your hand without your heart.
+Nay&mdash;do not frown, father&mdash;I have a secret for your ear, and if you do
+not wish to wreck your daughter's happiness, you will urge me no
+further."</p>
+
+<p>Von Steinberg frowned, and pshawed, and pished, and then, clearing his
+voice, addressed the baron.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Von Rosenberg," said he, "confess that we have been acting like
+a couple of old fools, in trying our hand at match making&mdash;it is a
+business for the young people themselves, and not for old soldiers
+like us. Say, shall we reduce the mutineers to obedience, or shall we
+let them have it their own way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Circumstances alter cases," answered the baron. "When I proposed for
+Julia's hand, I didn't know my wife had a daughter to marry. And if
+that were not the case, I am inclined to think the secret alluded to
+by the young lady, would prove an insuperable obstacle to the
+ratification of our treaty."</p>
+
+<p>This secret was no other than a love affair between the fair Julia and
+a certain count who had waltzed with her at the baths of Baden-Baden,
+the preceding summer. We are glad to say that the flirtation thus
+happily commenced ended in matrimony. As for Rudolph, he was shortly
+after united to the fair Adelaide, on which occasion the baron gave
+such a rouse as the old towers of Von Rosenberg had not known since
+the rollicking days of its first feudal masters. It was illuminated at
+every window and loophole, so that the waters of the Rhine rolled
+beneath it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> a sea of fire, or as if their channels were overflowed
+with generous Asmanshausen; and the old butler discharged his swivel
+so many times that he had to be taken down from the battlements and
+drenched with Rhenish to preserve his life.</p>
+
+<p>Thus ended all that is worthy commemorating in the modern history of
+the Castle on the Rhine.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="LOVE_IN_A_COTTAGE" id="LOVE_IN_A_COTTAGE"></a>LOVE IN A COTTAGE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Tell me, Charley, who is that fascinating creature in blue that
+waltzes so divinely?" asked young Frank Belmont of his friend Charles
+Hastings, as they stood "playing wallflower" for the moment, at a
+military ball.</p>
+
+<p>"Julia Heathcote," answered Charles, with a half sigh, "an old flame
+of mine. I proposed, but she refused me."</p>
+
+<p>"On what ground?"</p>
+
+<p>"Simply because I had a comfortable income. Her head is full of
+romantic notions, and she dreams of nothing but love in a cottage. She
+contends that poverty is essential to happiness&mdash;and money its bane."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you given up all hopes of her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Entirely; in fact, I'm engaged."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you have no objections to my addressing this dear, romantic
+angel?"</p>
+
+<p>"None whatever. But I see my <i>fianc&eacute;e</i>&mdash;excuse me&mdash;I must walk through
+the next quadrille with her."</p>
+
+<p>Frank Belmont was a stranger in Boston&mdash;a New Yorker&mdash;immensely rich
+and fashionable, but his reputation had not preceded him, and Charley
+Hastings was the only man who knew him in New England. He procured an
+introduction to the beauty from one of the managers, and soon danced
+and talked himself into her good graces. In fact, it was a clear case
+of love at first sight on both sides.</p>
+
+<p>The enamoured pair were sitting apart, enjoying a most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> delightful
+<i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;te</i>. Suddenly Belmont heaved a deep sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you sigh, Mr. Belmont?" asked the fair Julia, somewhat pleased
+with this proof of sensibility. "Is not this a gay scene?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! yes," replied Belmont, gloomily; "but fate does not permit me
+to mingle habitually in scenes like this. They only make my ordinary
+life doubly gloomy&mdash;and even here I deem to see the shadow of a fiend
+waving me away. What right have I to be here?"</p>
+
+<p>"What fiend do you allude to?" asked Miss Heathcote, with increasing
+interest.</p>
+
+<p>"A fiend hardly presentable in good society," replied Belmont,
+bitterly. "One could tolerate a Mephistophiles&mdash;a dignified fiend,
+with his pockets full of money&mdash;but my tormentor, if personified,
+would appear with seedy boots and a shocking bad hat."</p>
+
+<p>"How absurd!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is too true," sighed Belmont, "and the name of this fiend is
+<i>Poverty</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"Are you poor?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, madam. I am poor, and when I would fain render myself agreeable
+in the eyes of beauty&mdash;in the eyes of one I could love, this fiend
+whispers me, 'Beware! you have nothing to offer her but love in a
+cottage.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Belmont," said Julia, with sparkling eyes, and a voice of unusual
+animation, "although there are sordid souls in this world, who only
+judge of the merits of an individual by his pecuniary possessions, I
+am not one of that number. I respect poverty; there is something
+highly poetical about it, and I imagine that happiness is oftener
+found in the humble cottage than beneath the palace roof."</p>
+
+<p>Belmont appeared enchanted with this encouraging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> avowal. The next
+day, after cautioning his friend Charley to say nothing of his actual
+circumstances, he called on the widow Heathcote and her fair daughter
+in the character of the "poor gentleman." The widow had very different
+notions from her romantic offspring, and when Belmont candidly
+confessed his poverty on soliciting permission to address Julia, he
+was very politely requested to change the subject, and never mention
+it again.</p>
+
+<p>The result of all this man&oelig;uvring was an elopement; the belle of
+the ball jumping out of a chamber window on a shed, and coming down a
+flight of steps to reach her lover, for the sake of being romantic,
+when she might just as well have walked out of the front door.</p>
+
+<p>The happy couple passed a day in New York city, and then Frank took
+his beloved to his "cottage."</p>
+
+<p>An Irish hack conveyed them to a miserable shanty in the environs of
+New York, where they alighted, and Frank, escorting the bride into the
+apartment which served for parlor, kitchen, and drawing room, and was
+neither papered nor carpeted, introduced her to his mother, much in
+the way Claude Melnotte presents Pauline. The old woman, who was
+peeling potatoes, hastily wiped her hands and face with a greasy
+apron, and saluted her "darter," as she called her, on both cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"Can it be possible," thought Julia, "that this vulgar creature is my
+Belmont's mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"Frank!" screamed the old woman, "you'd better go right up stairs and
+take off them clothes&mdash;for the boy's been sent arter 'em more'n fifty
+times. Frank borried them clothes, ma'am," she added to Julia, by way
+of explanation, "to look smart when he went down east."</p>
+
+<p>The bridegroom retired on this hint, and soon reappeared in a pair of
+faded nankeen pantaloons, reaching to about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> calf of the leg, a
+very shabby black coat, out at the elbows, a ragged black vest, and,
+instead of his varnished leather boots, a pair of immense cowhide
+brogans.</p>
+
+<p>"Now," said he, sitting quietly down by the cooking stove, "I begin to
+feel at home. Ah! this is delightful, isn't it, dearest?" and he
+warbled,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Though never so humble, there's no place like home."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Julia's heart swelled so that she could not utter a word.</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest," said Frank, "I think you told me you had no objection to
+smoking?"</p>
+
+<p>"None in the least," said the bride; "I rather like the flavor of a
+cigar."</p>
+
+<p>"O, a cigar!" replied Belmont; "that would never do for a poor man."</p>
+
+<p>And O, horror! he produced an old clay pipe, and filling it from a
+little newspaper parcel of tobacco, began to smoke with a keen relish.</p>
+
+<p>"Dinner! dinner!" he exclaimed at length; "ah! thank you, mother; I'm
+as hungry as a bear. Codfish and potatoes, Julia&mdash;not very tempting
+fare&mdash;but what of that? our aliment is love!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and by way of treat," added the old woman, "I've been and gone
+and bought a whole pint of Albany ale, and three cream cakes, from the
+candy shop next block."</p>
+
+<p>Poor Julia pleaded indisposition, and could not eat a mouthful. Before
+Belmont, however, the codfish and potatoes, and the ale, and cream
+cakes disappeared with a very unromantic and unlover-like velocity. At
+the close of the meal, a thundering double knock was heard at the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>"Come in!" cried Belmont.</p>
+
+<p>A low-browed man, in a green waistcoat, entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Misther Belmont," he exclaimed, in a strong Hi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>bernian accent,
+"are ye ready to go to work? By the powers! if I don't see ye sailed
+to-morrow on the shopboard, I'll discharge ye without a character&mdash;and
+ye shall starve on the top of that."</p>
+
+<p>"To-morrow morning, Mr. Maloney," replied Belmont, meekly, "I'll be at
+my post."</p>
+
+<p>"And it'll be mighty healthy for you to do that same," replied the man
+as he retired.</p>
+
+<p>"Belmont, speak&mdash;tell me," gasped Julia, "who is that man&mdash;that
+loafer?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is my employer," answered Belmont, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"And his profession?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is a tailor."</p>
+
+<p>"And you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Am a journeyman tailor, at your service&mdash;a laborious and thankless
+calling it ever was to me&mdash;but now, dearest, as I drive the hissing
+goose across the smoking seam, I shall think of my own angel and my
+dear cottage, and be happy."</p>
+
+<p>That night Julia retired weeping to her room in the attic.</p>
+
+<p>"That 'ere counterpin, darter," said the old woman, "I worked with
+these here old hands. Ain't it putty? I hope you'll sleep well here.
+There's a broken pane of glass, but I've put one of Frank's old hats
+in it, and I don't think you'll feel the draught. There used to be a
+good many rats here, but I don't think they'll trouble you now, for
+Frank's been a pizinin' of 'em."</p>
+
+<p>Left alone, Julia threw herself into a chair, and burst into a flood
+of tears. Even Belmont had ceased to be attractive in her eyes&mdash;the
+stern privations that surrounded her banished all thoughts of love.
+The realities of life had cured her in one day of all her Quixotic
+notions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, Julia, how do you like poverty and love in a cottage?" asked
+Belmont, entering in his bridal dress.</p>
+
+<p>"Not so well, sir, as you seem to like that borrowed suit," answered
+the bride, reddening with vexation.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; you shall suffer it no longer. My carriage awaits your
+orders at the door."</p>
+
+<p>"Your carriage, indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dearest, it waits but for you, to bear us to Belmont Hall, my
+lovely villa on the Hudson."</p>
+
+<p>"And your mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have no mother, alas! The old woman down stairs is an old servant
+of the family."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you've been deceiving me, Frank&mdash;how wicked!"</p>
+
+<p>"It was all done with a good motive. You were not born to endure a
+life of privation, but to shine the ornament of an elegant and refined
+circle. I hope you will not love me the less when you learn that I am
+worth nearly half a million&mdash;that's the melancholy fact, and I can't
+help it."</p>
+
+<p>"O Frank!" cried the beautiful girl, and hid her face in his bosom.</p>
+
+<p>She presided with grace at the elegant festivities of Belmont Hall,
+and seemed to support her husband's wealth and luxurious style of
+living with the greatest fortitude and resignation, never complaining
+of her comforts, nor murmuring a wish for living in a cottage.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_CAREER_OF_AN_ARTIST" id="THE_CAREER_OF_AN_ARTIST"></a>THE CAREER OF AN ARTIST.</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>I woke up one morning and found myself
+famous.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Byron.</span> </p></div>
+
+
+<p>Julian Montfort was a farmer's boy; bred up to the plough handle and
+cart tail. His father and mother were plain, honest people, of
+hard-working habits and limited ideas, and without the slightest dash
+of romance in their temperaments. Their house, their lands were
+unprepossessing in appearance. The soil was impoverished by long and
+illiberal culture; and old Montfort had a true old-fashioned prejudice
+against trees. Instead of smiling hedgerows, with here and there a
+weeping elm or plumy evergreen to cast their graceful shadows upon the
+pasture land, his acres were enclosed with harsh stone walls, or an
+unpicturesque Virginia fence with its zigzag of rude rails. The farmer
+had an equal prejudice against books, "book larnin', and book-larned
+men." Of course, with these ideas, Julian's education was limited to a
+few quarters' schooling under an old pedagogue, whose native language
+was Dutch, and who never took very kindly to the English tongue.
+Besides, teaching was only an episode with him; for his vocation was
+that of a clergyman, and he held forth on Sundays in alternate Dutch
+and English to his little congregation&mdash;as is still the custom in many
+of the small agricultural parishes in New York State, where the scene
+of our veritable story lies.</p>
+
+<p>Our hero, young Julian, early began to show a restiveness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> under the
+training he received, which sadly perplexed his plain matter-of-fact
+father. The latter could not conceive why the boy should sometimes
+leave his plough in the furrow, and sit upon a hillock, gazing
+curiously and admiringly upon a simple wild flower. He knew not why
+the youth should stand with his eyes fixed upon the western sky when
+it was pavilioned with crimson, and gold, and purple; or later yet,
+when, one by one, the stars came timidly forth and took their places
+in the darkening heaven. He shook his head at these manifestations,
+and confidently informed his help-mate that he feared the boy was "not
+right"&mdash;significantly touching, as he spoke, that portion of his
+anatomy where he fondly imagined a vast quantity of brain of very
+superior quality was safely stowed away, guarded by a sufficient
+quantity of skull to protect it against any accident. Neither he nor
+the good wife imagined, for a moment, that Julian was a genius, and
+that his talent, circumscribed by circumstances, was struggling for an
+outlet for its development.</p>
+
+<p>At last the divine spark within him was kindled into flame. An
+itinerant portrait painter came round, with his tools of trade, and
+did the dominie in brown and red, and the squire's daughter in
+vermilion and flake white, and set the whole village agog with his
+marvellous achievements. Julian cultivated his acquaintance, received
+some secret instructions in the A B C of art, and bargained for some
+drawing and painting materials. His aspirations had at length found an
+object. Long and painfully he labored in secret; but his advances were
+rapid, for he took nature as a model. At last he ventured to display
+his latest achievement&mdash;a small portrait of his father. It was first
+shown to his mother, and filled her with astonishment and delight. It
+is the privilege of woman, however circumstanced, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> appreciate and
+applaud true genius. Of course, Moliere's housekeeper occurs to the
+reader as an illustration. The picture was next shown to the old man.
+He gazed at it with a sort of silent horror, puffing the smoke from
+his pipe in short, spasmodic jerks, and slowly shaking his head before
+he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know it, father?" asked the young artist.</p>
+
+<p>"Know it!" exclaimed the old man. "Yes&mdash;yes&mdash;I see myself there like I
+was lookin' into a glass. There's my nose, and eyes, and mouth, and
+hair; yes, and there's my pipe. It ain't right&mdash;it can't be
+right&mdash;it's witchcraft. Satan must ha' helped you, boy&mdash;you couldn't
+never ha' done it without the aid of the evil one."</p>
+
+<p>This was a sad damper. But just then the dominie luckily happened in
+to take a pipe with his parishioner. He pronounced the work excellent,
+and satisfied his old friend's doubts as to the honesty of the
+transaction. Julian blessed the old man in his heart for the comfort
+he afforded.</p>
+
+<p>And now the fame of the young painter flew through the village. The
+tavern keeper ordered a head of General Washington for his sign board,
+the old one&mdash;originally a portrait of the Duke of Cambridge with the
+court dress painted out&mdash;not satisfying some of his critical
+customers. And for the blacksmith, Montfort painted a rampant black
+horse, prevented from falling backward by a solid tail. The stable
+keeper also gave him orders for sundry coats of arms to be depicted on
+wagon panels and sleigh dashers, so that the incipient artist had
+plenty of orders and not a little cash.</p>
+
+<p>But he soon grew tired of this local reputation. He panted for the
+association of kindred spirits; for the impulse and example to be
+found in some great centre of civilization; for refinement, fame&mdash;all
+that is dear to an ardent imagi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>nation. And so, one morning, he
+announced his intention of seeking his fortune in the city of New
+York.</p>
+
+<p>His mother was sad, but did not oppose his wishes; his father shook
+his head, as he always did when any thing was proposed&mdash;no matter
+what. The old gentleman seemed to derive great pleasure from shaking
+his head, and no one interfered with so harmless an amusement.</p>
+
+<p>"Goin' to York, hey?" said he, emitting sundry puffs of smoke. "The
+Yorkers are a curious set of people, boy. I read into a paper once't
+about how they car' on&mdash;droppin' pocket books, and sellin' brass
+watches for gold, and knockin' people down and stompin' onto 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"But the dominie thinks I might make money there," said the young man.</p>
+
+<p>"O, then you'd better go. The dominie's got a longer head than you or
+I, boy," said the old man.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father," said the youth, kindling with animation. "In New York I
+am sure to win fame and fortune. I shall come back, then, and buy you
+a better farm, and hire hands for you, so that you won't be obliged to
+work so hard&mdash;and you can set out trees."</p>
+
+<p>"Hain't no opinion of trees," said the old man, shaking his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, father, you shall have money, and do what you like with
+it; for my part I shall be content with fame."</p>
+
+<p>"Fame! what is that?" said the old man, laying down his pipe in
+bewilderment.</p>
+
+<p>"Fame! Do you ask what fame is?" exclaimed the romantic boy. But he
+paused, convinced in a moment of the perfect futility of attempting to
+convey an idea of the unsubstantial phantom to the old man's
+intellect. Perhaps the old farmer was the better philosopher of the
+two.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But Julian gained his point, and departed for the great city&mdash;the goal
+of so many struggles, the grave of so many hopes. He was at first
+dazzled by the splendors of the artificial life, into the heart of
+which he plunged; and then, with a homesick feeling, he sighed for
+that verdurous luxury of nature he had left. He missed the trees&mdash;for
+he thought the shabby and rusty foliage of the Battery and Park hardly
+worthy of that name. But, in time to save him from utter
+disappointment and heart sickness, there opened on his vision the
+glorious dawning of the world of art. He passed from gallery to
+gallery, and from studio to studio, drinking in the beauties that
+unfolded before him with the eyes of his body and his soul. He was
+enraptured, dazzled, enchanted. Then he settled down to work in his
+humble room, economizing the scanty funds he had brought with him to
+the city. Like many young aspirants, he grasped, at first, at the most
+difficult subjects. He constantly groped for a high ideal. He would
+fly before he had learned to walk. With an imperfect knowledge of
+architecture and anatomy, and a limited stock of information, he would
+paint history&mdash;mythology. He sought to illustrate poetry, and dared
+attempt scenes from the Bible, Shakspeare, and Milton. He failed,
+though there were glimpses of grandeur and glory in his faulty
+attempts.</p>
+
+<p>Then he turned back, with a sickening feeling, to the elements of art,
+distasteful as he found them. It was hard to pore over rectangles and
+curves, bones and muscles, angles and measurements, after sporting
+with irregular forms and fascinating colors. He tried portraiture, but
+he had no feeling for the business. He could not transfigure the dull
+and commonplace heads he was to copy. He had not the nice tact that
+makes beauty of ugliness without the loss of identity. He could not
+ennoble vulgarians. The sordid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> man bore the stamp of baseness on his
+canvas. His pictures were too true; and truth is death to the portrait
+painter.</p>
+
+<p>He began to grow morbid in his feelings, and was fast verging to a
+misanthrope. His clothes grew shabby, and looked shabbier for his
+careless way of wearing them. He was often cold and hungry. There were
+times when he viewed with envy and hate the evidences of prosperity he
+saw about him. He railed against those pursuits of life which made men
+rich and prosperous. He began to think with the French demagogue, that
+"property was a theft," and to regard with great favor the socialistic
+doctrines then coming into vogue. The American social system he
+pronounced corrupt and rotten, and deserving to be uprooted and
+subverted. And this was the rustic boy, who, a few months before, had
+left his home so full of hope, and generous feeling, and high
+aspiration.</p>
+
+<p>There were times when he yearned for the humble scenes of his boyhood.
+But he was too proud to throw up his pencils and palette, and go back
+to the old farm house; and so he found a vent for his home feeling in
+painting some of the scenes of his earliest life&mdash;the rustic dances,
+the huskings, the haymakings, and junketings with which he was so
+familiar.</p>
+
+<p>One of these pictures&mdash;a rustic dance was the subject&mdash;he sent to a
+gilder's to be framed. He had consecrated three dollars to this
+purpose, and went one day to see how his commission had been executed.
+He found the picture framer, who was also a picture dealer, in his
+shirt sleeves, talking with a middle-aged gentleman, who was praising
+his performance.</p>
+
+<p>"Really a very clever thing," said the gentleman, scanning the
+painting through his gold-bowed eye glasses.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The composition, coloring, and light and shade, are admirable; but
+the life, animation, and naturalness of the figures make its great
+charm. Ah, why don't our artists study to produce life as it exists
+around them, and as they themselves know it and feel it, instead of
+giving us the gods and goddesses of a defunct and false religion, and
+scenes three thousand miles and years away?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Greville," said the picture framer, "allow me to make you
+acquainted with the artist, Mr. Montfort; he's a next-door neighbor of
+yours&mdash;lives at No &mdash;&mdash;, Broadway."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Montfort," said the gentleman, warmly shaking the hand the artist
+shyly extended, "you found me admiring your work. And I'm sure I did
+not know I had so talented a neighbor. I shall be glad to be better
+acquainted with you. I presume your picture is for sale."</p>
+
+<p>"Not so, sir," replied the artist, coldly. "It is a reminiscence of
+earlier and happier days. It was painted for my own satisfaction, and
+I shall keep it as long as I have a place to hang it in. It is a
+common mistake, sir, with our patrons, to suppose they can buy our
+souls as well as our labor."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Greville's cheek flushed; but as he glanced at the shabby exterior
+and wan face of the artist, his color faded, and he answered gently&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Believe me, Mr. Montfort, I am not one of the persons you
+describe&mdash;if, indeed, they exist elsewhere but in your imagination. I
+should be the last person to fail in sympathy for the high-toned
+feelings of an artist; for in early life I was thought to manifest a
+talent for art&mdash;and, indeed, I had a strong desire to follow the
+vocation."</p>
+
+<p>"And you abandoned it&mdash;you turned a deaf ear to the divine
+inspiration&mdash;you preferred wealth to glory&mdash;to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> one of the vulgar
+many rather than to belong to the choice few. I congratulate you, Mr.
+Greville, on your taste."</p>
+
+<p>"You judge me harshly, Mr. Montfort," replied the gentleman,
+pleasantly. "I am hardly required to justify my choice of calling to a
+perfect stranger; and yet your very frankness induces me to say a word
+or two of the motives which impelled me. My parents were poor. An
+artist's life seemed to hold no immediate prospects of competence.
+They to whom I owed my being might die of want before I had
+established a reputation. I had an opportunity to enter commercial
+life advantageously. I prospered. I have lived to see the declining
+days of my parents cheered by every comfort, and to rear a family in
+comfort and opulence. One of my boys promises to make a good artist.
+Fortunately, I can bestow on him the means of following the bent of
+his inclination. Instead of being an indifferent painter myself, I am
+an extensive purchaser of works of art, so that my conscience acquits
+me of any very great wrong in the course I adopted."</p>
+
+<p>Montfort was silent; he was worsted in the argument.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Montfort," pursued the gentleman, after a pause, "my evenings are
+always at my disposal, and I like to surround myself with men of
+talent. I have already a large circle of acquaintances among artists,
+musicians, and literary men, and once a week they meet at my house; I
+shall be very happy to see you among us. To-night is my evening of
+reception&mdash;will you join us?"</p>
+
+<p>Proud and shy as he was, Montfort could not help accepting an
+invitation so frankly and pleasantly tendered. He promised to come.</p>
+
+<p>"One favor more," said Mr. Greville. "You won't sell that picture.
+Will you lend it to me for a day or two?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot refuse you, of course, Mr. Greville."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"If you have the slightest objection, say so frankly," said the
+kind-hearted merchant.</p>
+
+<p>"I have not the slightest objection, Mr. Greville. It is entirely at
+your disposal."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Greville was profuse in his thanks.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I send it to your house?" said the picture framer.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Mr. Tennant," replied the merchant. "It is too valuable to be
+trusted out of my hands. I am personally responsible, and I fear that
+I am not rich enough to remunerate the artist, if any harm happens to
+it."</p>
+
+<p>With these words, bowing to the artist, Mr. Greville took the picture
+carefully under his arm, and left the shop, Montfort soon following.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I declare," said the picture framer, when he was left alone,
+"artists is queer animils, and no mistake. Neglect 'em, and it makes
+'em as mad as a short-horned bull in fly time; coax 'em and pat 'em,
+and they lets fly their heels in your face. Seems to me, if I was an
+artist, I shouldn't be particular about being a hog, too. There ain't
+no sense in it. Now, it beats my notion all to pieces to see how Mr.
+Greville could talk so pleasantly and gentlemanly to that dratted
+Montfort, and he flyin' into his face all the time like a tarrier dog.
+I'd a punched his head for him, I would&mdash;if they'd had me up afore the
+Sessions for saltin' and batterin'. Consequently it's better to be a
+pictur' framer than a pictur' painter. Cause why?&mdash;a pictur' framer is
+a gentleman, and a pictur' painter is a hog."</p>
+
+<p>There was a good deal of truth in what Mr. Tennant said, mixed up with
+a good deal of uncharitableness. But what did he know of the <i>genus
+irritabile vatum</i>?</p>
+
+<p>Evening came; and after many misgivings, Montfort, in an eclectic
+costume, selected from his whole wardrobe, at a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> late hour, ventured
+to emerge from his humble domicile, and present himself at the
+rosewood portal of his aristocratic neighbor. He soon found himself in
+the dazzling drawing room, bewildered by the lights, and the splendor
+of the decoration and the furniture. Mr. Greville saw his
+embarrassment, and hastened to dispel it. He shook him warmly by the
+hand, and presented him to his lady and daughter, and then to a crowd
+of guests. A distinguished artist begged the honor of an introduction
+to him, and he soon found himself among people who understood him, and
+with whom he could converse at his ease. Though he was lionized, he
+was lionized by people who understood the sensitiveness of artistic
+natures. They flattered delicately and tastefully. Their incense
+excited, but did not intoxicate or suffocate. In one of the drawing
+rooms the gratified artist beheld his picture placed in an admirable
+light, the cynosure of all eyes, and the theme of all lips.</p>
+
+<p>"I am certainly very much indebted to you for placing it so
+advantageously," said the artist to his host. "It owes at least half
+its success to the arrangement of the light."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you hear that, Caroline?" asked Mr. Greville, turning to his
+beautiful daughter, who stood smiling beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"I was afraid I had made some mistake in the arrangement," said the
+beautiful girl, blushing with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>Montfort attempted a complimentary remark, but his tongue failed him.
+He would have given worlds for the self-possession of some of the
+<i>nonchalant</i> dandies he saw hovering around the peerless beauty. He
+was forced to content himself with awkwardly bowing his thanks.</p>
+
+<p>In the latter part of the evening, one of the rooms was cleared for a
+dance. Montfort was solicited to join in a quadrille, and a beautiful
+partner was even presented to his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> notice; but he wanted confidence
+and knowledge, and he had no faith in the integrity of the gaiter
+shoes he had vamped up for the occasion, so that he was forced to
+decline. This incident revived some of his morbid feelings that had
+begun to slumber, and he caught himself muttering something about the
+"frivolities of fashion."</p>
+
+<p>He thought to make his exit unnoticed; but Mr. Greville detected him,
+and urged him to repeat his visit.</p>
+
+<p>The next day, during his reception hours, several visitors called&mdash;an
+unheard-of thing. They glanced indifferently at his mythological
+daubs, but were enthusiastic in their praises of his rustic subjects.
+The day following, more visitors came. He was offered and accepted
+four hundred dollars for one of his cabinet pictures. In a word,
+orders flowed in upon him; he could hardly paint fast enough to supply
+the demand. He became rather fastidious in his dress&mdash;patronized the
+first tailors and boot makers, cultivated the graces, and took lessons
+in the waltz and polka. At Mr. Greville's, and some of the other
+houses he visited, he was remarked as being somewhat of a dandy. And
+this was Montfort the misanthrope&mdash;Montfort the socialist&mdash;Montfort
+the agrarian.</p>
+
+<p>An important episode in his career was an order to paint the portrait
+of Miss Caroline Greville. He had already had three or four sittings,
+and the picture was approaching completion; then the work suddenly
+ceased. Day after day the artist pleaded engagements. At the same time
+he discontinued his visits at the house.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Greville, somewhat offended, called on Montfort for an
+explanation. He found his daughter's picture covered by a curtain.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear sir," said he, "how does it happen that you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> can't go on with
+that picture? My wife is very anxious about it."</p>
+
+<p>"I can never finish it," said the artist sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"How so, my young friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Greville, I will be frank with you. I love your daughter; I, a
+poor artist, have dared to lift my eyes to the child of the opulent
+merchant. I have never in look or word, though, led her to divine my
+feelings&mdash;the secret is in my own keeping. But I cannot see her day
+after day&mdash;I cannot scan her beautiful and innocent features, or
+listen to the brilliant flow of her conversation, without agony. This
+has compelled me, sir, to suspend my work."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Julian Montfort," said the merchant, "you seem bent&mdash;excuse
+me&mdash;on making yourself miserable. You are no longer a poor artist; you
+have a fortune in your pencil. Your profession is now a surer thing
+than mine. There is no gentleman in the city who ought not to be proud
+of your alliance; and if you can make yourself acceptable to my
+daughter, why, take her and be happy."</p>
+
+<p>How Julian sped in his wooing may be inferred from the fact that, at a
+certain wedding ceremony in Grace Church, he performed the important
+part of bridegroom to the bride of Miss Caroline Greville; and after
+the usual quantity of hand shakings, and tears, and kisses, and all
+the usual efforts to make a wedding resemble a funeral as much as
+possible, Mr. and Mrs. Montfort took passage in one of the Havre
+steamers for an extensive tour upon the European continent.</p>
+
+<p>When they returned, Mr. Montfort's reputation rose higher than ever,
+of course, and he made money with marvellous rapidity. He is now as
+well known in Wall Street as in his studio, has a town and country
+house, is a strong conservative in politics, and talks very learnedly
+about the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> moneyed interest. He has made some efforts to transplant
+his good old father and mother to New York; but they prefer residing
+at his villa, and taking care of his Durham cattle and Suffolk pigs,
+and seeing that his "Cochin Chinas" and "Brahma Pootras" do not
+trample down the children when they go out to feed the poultry of a
+summer morning. </p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="SOUVENIRS_OF_A_RETIRED_OYSTERMAN_IN_ILL_HEALTH" id="SOUVENIRS_OF_A_RETIRED_OYSTERMAN_IN_ILL_HEALTH"></a>SOUVENIRS OF A RETIRED OYSTERMAN IN ILL HEALTH.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Samivel, my boy, always stick to the shop; and if ever you become a
+<i>millionhair</i>, like me, never be seduced by any womankind into
+enterin' fash'nable society, and moving among the circles of <i>bong
+tong</i>. (I have been obligated to study French without a master; 'cause
+the Upper Ten always talks in bad French, and so a word or two will
+slip in onawares, even ven talking to a friend&mdash;just as a bad oyster
+will sometimes make its way into a good stew, spite of the best
+artist.)</p>
+
+<p>I envies you, Samivel. You don't know what a treat it is to me to be
+admitted confidentially behind the counter, and to find myself
+surrounded once more by these here congenial bivalves. I can't escape
+from old associations. Oysters stare me in the face wherever I go.
+They're fash'nable, Samivel, and it's about the only think in fash'n
+as I reg'larly likes.</p>
+
+<p>The other day we gave a <i>derjerner</i>, (that's French for brekfax,
+Samivel,) which took place about dinner time, and consisted of several
+distinguished pussons of the city, and three or four Hungry'uns as
+came over in the last steamer&mdash;reg'lar rang-a-tangs, vith these 'ere
+yaller anchovies growin' onto their upper lips. The old ooman, or
+madame, as she calls herself, was on hand to receive&mdash;but I was out of
+the way. She was mightily flustered, for she know'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> I could talk a
+little Dutch, and she wanted me for to interpret with the Hungry'uns.</p>
+
+<p>So she speaks up werry sharp, (the old ooman can speak werry sharp by
+times,) and says to my youngest, a boy,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Where on airth <i>can</i> your father be?"</p>
+
+<p>"O, daddy's in the sink room," says the young 'un, "a openin'
+eyesters."</p>
+
+<p>The whole <i>derjerner</i> bust into a hoss larff&mdash;for these Upper Ten
+folks, Samivel,&mdash;betwixt you and me and the pump, my boy,&mdash;ain't got
+no more manners than hogs. The child was voted an <i>ongfong
+terriblee</i>&mdash;but it wor a fack. I had went down into the sink room, as
+a mere looker-on in Veneer, and I seen one of my <i>employees</i> a making
+such botchwork of openin', hagglin' up his hands, and misusin' the
+oysters, than I off coat, tucked up sleeves, and went to work, and
+rolled 'em off amazin'&mdash;I tell you. The past rushed back on me&mdash;the
+familiar feel of the knife almost banished my dyspepsy&mdash;I lived&mdash;I
+breathed&mdash;I vas a oysterman again. Did I ever show you them lines I
+wrote into my darter's album? No. Vell, then, 'ere goes:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">TO AN UNOPENED OYSTER.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thou liest fair within thy shell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy charms no mortal eye can see;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so, as Lamprey<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> says, of old<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was Wenus lodged&mdash;the fairest she.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But beauties such as yourn and hern<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Were never born unseen to waste;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like her, you're bound to come to light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To gratify refinement's taste.<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The fairest of the female race<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To Ilium vent vith Priam's boy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So the best oysters that I see<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Are sent by railroad off to Troy.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sleep on&mdash;sleep on&mdash;nor dream of woe<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Until the horrid deed be done&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then out and die, like Simile,<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In thy first glance upon the sun.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Probably Lempriere.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Semele (?)</p></div>
+
+<p>Well, and 'ows bizness, Samivel? You've got a good stand, and you're
+bound to succeed. But beware of the Cracker-Fiend. I'll tell you about
+him.</p>
+
+<p>There vas a chap as used to <i>patronize</i> me that vas one of the
+hungriest customers you ever did see. He was werry shabbily dressed,
+and he looked for all the world like the picturs I've seen of
+Shakspeare's "lean and hungry Cashier."</p>
+
+<p>He used to come in, give his order, (generally a stew,) and then go
+and set down in a box and drop the curting. It allers looks suspicious
+for a customer to drop his curting <i>afore</i> you bring him the
+oysters&mdash;<i>arterwards</i> it's all perfectly proper, in course. Afore the
+stew was ready, he would call out&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Waiter! crackers!"</p>
+
+<p>The boy would hand him a basket; but when his stew was set before him,
+there warn't no crackers in <i>his</i> box.</p>
+
+<p>So ve put him on a allowance of a dozen crackers, which is werry
+liberal, considerin' as pickles and pepper-sarce is throw'd in gratis.
+But he used to step out quietly and snake baskets of crackers outen
+other boxes, so's the other customers, as alvays conducted themselves
+like perfick gen'lemen, vas all the time a singing out, "Waiter! plate
+of crackers."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p><p>Then we kept a boy a-watching of him, so's to keep him in his box
+till he'd eat his oysters, and then you had to keep a werry sharp eye
+on him ven he was paying, and you vas a-makin' change, els't you'd hev
+all the crackers took off the counter.</p>
+
+<p>One day arter he vas gone, ve found all the crackers missin' from one
+side of the room. Of course, ve suspected he done it, but how he done
+it vas as much a puzzle as the Spinks.</p>
+
+<p>Next day, arter ve got him into his box, ve vatched and listened. Ve
+heard a queer kind of sound, like a man trying to play the jewsharp
+vith his boots; and, sir, ve detected the cracker-fiend a climbin'
+over the partitions into the neighborin' boxes, and a collarin' all
+the crackers he could come acrost.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps you think I vent into him like a knife into a Prince's Bay.
+But I didn't do no such think. I treated him werry perlite, and gin
+him two dollars, a keg of crackers, and a jar of pickled oysters, on
+condition he'd go and patronize some other establishment. Keep an eye
+open for him, Samivel.</p>
+
+<p>Be generous, Samivel, but don't carry generosity to XS, for an
+antidote I'm about to relate, out of my pusnol experience, illustrates
+the evil effex of excessive philanthrophy.</p>
+
+<p>A little gal used to come into my shop to buy oysters. I seen she was
+some kind of a foreigner, so I set her down for Dutch&mdash;as them vas the
+only foreigners I vas acquainted vith at the time. I artervards
+discovered she was French. She was werry thin, and as pale as a
+soft-shelled clam; there was a dark blue color under her eyes, like
+these here muscle shells. At first, she used to buy ninepence worth of
+oysters. Arter a while it came down to fourpence; and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> one day she
+only vanted two cents vorth. I asked her who they vas for, and she
+said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"For my grandfather; he is very sick, sare."</p>
+
+<p>I followed her, and found out where her grandfather lived. So one
+night I opened four gallons of prime New Yorkers, put 'em in a kettle,
+took a lot of crackers and soft bread, and started for the
+Frenchman's. The little gal came to the door, and showed me up stairs.
+The poor old customer was all alone, in bed, and yaller as a blanket.
+He start up ven he see us, and exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>"Ah! mon Dieu! Antoinette, priez le gentilhomme de 'asseoir."</i></p>
+
+<p>The leetle gal offered me a stool, but I didn't set down.</p>
+
+<p>"Mounseer," said I, in some French manufactured for the occasion, "I
+havey broughtee you sommey oysteries," and I showed him the kittle,
+with the kiver off.</p>
+
+<p>I thought his eyes kind of vatered at the sight, but he sighed, and
+turnin' to the leetle gal, said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>"Antoinette, dites &agrave; Monsieur, que je n'ai plus d'argent&mdash;pas un
+sou."</i></p>
+
+<p>I guessed it was something about money, so afore the leetle gal could
+translate it, I sang out,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want no money, Mounseer; these here are free gratis, for
+nothin' at all. I always treats my customers once in a while."</p>
+
+<p>That was a lie, Samivel&mdash;but never mind, I gin him a dozen, and the
+old fellur seemed to like 'em fust rate. Then I offered him some more,
+but he hung back. However I made him swallow 'em, and offered some to
+the leetle gal.</p>
+
+<p>"After grandpapa," said she.</p>
+
+<p>So I offered him some more.</p>
+
+<p>"No more, I zank you; I 'ave eat too moosh."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>I know'd he was only sogerin' out of delixy. So I says as perlite as
+possible,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"None of that, old fellur&mdash;catch hold. I fetched 'em for you, and I'm
+bound to see you eat 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"Sare, you are <i>too</i> kind," said he; and he vent to vork again. Arter
+a spell, he stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't like 'em&mdash;hey?" says I, pretendin' to be mad.</p>
+
+<p>"I sall prove ze contraire," said he, in a kind of die-away manner,
+and he went into 'em agin.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, he gin over, and fell back on his piller murmurin'&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Sare, you are too good."</p>
+
+<p>I gin the balance to the leetle gal, and told her to come round in the
+mornin', and I'd fill her kittle for her, adding that her grandfather
+would be all straight in the mornin'.</p>
+
+<p>Samivel! he <i>vas</i> all straight in the morning, but just as stiff as a
+cold poker. The last two or three dozen finished him; his digestion
+wasn't strong enough for 'em, and he know'd it, but he eat himself to
+death out of politeness. The French are certingly the perlitest people
+on the face of the yairth.</p>
+
+<p>Howsever, I see him buried decently, and I adopted the leetle gal. She
+was well brung up and educated, and she larned my darters French&mdash;the
+real Simon Pure&mdash;for she was a Canadian, and her grandfather came from
+Gascony. But his fate vos a orful lesson. Benevolence, like an
+oyster-roast, is good for nothink if it's over done. And now, Samivel,
+my boy, <i>a-jew</i>, for I have a <i>sworray</i> this evenin', and receive half
+Beacon Street. <i>A-jew.</i></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_NEW_YEARS_STOCKINGS" id="THE_NEW_YEARS_STOCKINGS"></a>THE NEW YEAR'S STOCKINGS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Never crosses his t's, nor dots his i's, and his n's and v's and r's
+are all alike!" said, almost despairingly, Mr. Simon Quillpen, the
+painstaking clerk of old Lawyer Latitat, as he sat late at night, on
+the last day of the year, digging away at the copy of a legal document
+his liberal patron and employer had placed in his hands in the early
+part of the evening. "Thank Heaven!" he added, laying down his pen,
+and consulting a huge silver bull's eye which he pulled from a
+threadbare fob, "I shall soon get through this job, and then, hey for
+roast potatoes and the charming society of Mrs. Q.!" And with this
+consolatory reflection, he resumed his work with redoubled energy.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Quillpen was a little man; not so very little as to pass for a
+phenomenon, but certainly too small to be noticed by a recruiting
+grenadier sergeant. His nose was quite sharp and gave his mild, thin
+countenance, particularly as he carried his head a little on one side,
+a very bird-like air. He trod, too, gingerly and lightly, very like a
+sparrow or a tomtit; and, to complete the analogy, his head being
+almost always surmounted by a pen, he had a sort of crested,
+blue-jayish aspect, that was rather comical. Quillpen had a very
+little wife and three very little children, Bob, Chiffy, and the baby;
+the last the ultimate specimen of the <i>diminuendo</i>. It was well for
+them that they were so small, for Quillpen obtained his <i>starvelihood</i>
+by driving the quill for Mr. Latitat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> at four hundred dollars a year,
+to which Mrs. Quillpen added, from time to time, certain little sums
+derived from making shirts and overalls at the rate of about ten cents
+the million stitches.</p>
+
+<p>Whether Mr. Latitat was able to pay more was a question that never
+entered the minute brain of Simon Quillpen; for he had so humble an
+opinion of his own merits, and was always so contented and cheerful,
+that he regarded his salary as enormous, and was wont playfully to
+sign little confidential notes Cr&oelig;sus Quillpen and Girard Quillpen,
+and on rare convivial occasions would sometimes style himself Baron
+Rothschild. But this last title was very rarely indulged in, because
+it once sent his particular crony, a chuckle-headed clerk in the
+post-office, into a cachinnatory fit which was "rayther in the
+apoplectic line."</p>
+
+<p>"To return to our muttons." Simon dug away at his copying with an
+occasional reverential glance at a certain low oaken door, opening
+into the <i>penetralia</i> of this abode of law and righteousness, behind
+which oaken door, at that very moment, sat Mr. Lucius Latitat, either
+deeply engaged in the solution of some vast legal problem, or
+calculating the interest on an outstanding note, or consulting with
+chuckling delight a list of mortgages to be foreclosed.</p>
+
+<p>Well&mdash;Quillpen finished his document, wiped his pen on a thick velvet
+butterfly, laid it in the rack above the ink, pushed back his chair
+from the table, withdrew the cambric sleeve from his right arm, and
+smoothed down his wristbands, having first put on his India rubber
+overshoes. The fact is, he was very anxious to get home, and he could
+not go without first seeing Mr. Latitat. The idea of knocking at Mr.
+Latitat's door on business of his own never once occurred to him. He
+would do that for a client, but not for himself. So he ventured on a
+series of low coughs, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> finding no notice was taken of them, he
+dropped the poker into the coalhod, the most daring act he had ever
+perpetrated. The slight noise thus produced crashed on his guilty ears
+like thunder, or rather with the roar of a universal earthquake.
+Slight, however, as it was, it brought out Mr. Latitat from his
+interior.</p>
+
+<p>"What the deuse are you making such a racket for?" he exclaimed in
+tones that thrilled to the heart of his employee; then, without
+waiting for an answer, he slightly glanced at the table, and asked,
+"Have you got through that job?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes'm&mdash;I mean, yes'r" replied the quivering Simon.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then, you can go. I'm going myself. You blow out the lights and
+lock the room. And mind and be here early to-morrow morning. Nothing
+like beginning the New Year well. Good night."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Latitat, sir!" cried Quillpen, with desperate resolution, as he
+saw the great man about to disappear&mdash;"please, sir&mdash;could you let me
+have a little money to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why! what do you want of money?" retorted the lawyer. "O! I 'spose
+you have a host of unpaid bills."</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir; no, sir; that's not it," Simon hastened to say. "I hain't
+got narry bill standing. I pay as I go. Cash takes the lot!"</p>
+
+<p>"None of your coarse, vulgar slang to me!" said Latitat. "Reserve it
+for your loose companions. If not to pay bills, what for?"</p>
+
+<p>"Please, sir,&mdash;we, that is Mrs. Q. and myself, want to put something
+in the children's stockings, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Then put the children's legs in 'em!" said the lawyer with a grin. "I
+make no payments to be used for any such ridiculous purposes. Good
+night. Yet stay&mdash;take this letter&mdash;there's money in it&mdash;a large
+amount&mdash;put<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> it in the post-office with your own hands as you go
+home."</p>
+
+<p>"And you can't let me have a trifle?" gasped Simon.</p>
+
+<p>"Not a cent!" snarled the lawyer; and he slammed the door behind him,
+and went heavily down the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder how it feels to punch a man's head," said Simon, as he stood
+rooted to the spot where Mr. Latitat left him. "It's illegal&mdash;it's
+actionable&mdash;there are fines and penalties provided by the statute: but
+it seems as if there were cases that might justify the
+operation&mdash;morally. But then, again&mdash;what good would it do to punch
+his head? Punching his head wouldn't get me money&mdash;and if I was to try
+it, on finding that the licks didn't bring out the cash, I might be
+tempted to help myself to the cash, and that would be highway robbery;
+and when the punchee ventured to suggest that, the puncher might be
+tempted to silence him. O Lord! that's the way these murders in the
+first degree happen; and I think that I was almost on the point of
+taking the first step. I really think I look a little like Babe the
+pirate," added the poor man, glancing at his mild but disturbed
+features in the glass; "or like Captain Kidd, or leastways like
+Country McClusky&mdash;a regular bruiser!"</p>
+
+<p>Sitting down before the grate, and stirring it feebly with the poker,
+he tried to devise some feasible plan for supplying the vacuum in his
+treasury. He might borrow, but then all his friends were very poor,
+and particularly hard up&mdash;at this particular season of the year. The
+bull's eye watch might have been "spouted," if he had foreseen this
+contingency; but every avuncular relative was now at this hour of the
+night snug abed to a dead certainty. Purchasing on credit was not to
+be thought of, and the only toy shop which kept open late enough for
+his purchases, was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> kept by a man to whom he was totally unknown. Time
+galloped on, meanwhile, and the half-hour struck.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll slip that letter in the post-office, and then go home," said
+Simon sorrowfully, rising as he spoke, and grasping his inseparable
+umbrella.</p>
+
+<p>"Hallo! shipmate! where-away?" cried a hoarse voice. And Mr. Quillpen
+became aware of the presence of an "ancient mariner," enveloped in a
+very rough dreadnought, and finished off with a large amount of
+whiskers and tarpaulin.</p>
+
+<p>"I was going home, sir," replied Simon, with the deferential air of a
+very little to a very big man.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay&mdash;going to clap on hatches and deadlights. Well, tell me one
+thing&mdash;where-away may one find one Mr. Latitat&mdash;a shore-going cove, a
+regular land-shark, d'ye see?"</p>
+
+<p>"This is Mr. Latitat's office, sir," said Simon.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay&mdash;and is he within hail?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir, he has gone home."</p>
+
+<p>"Slipped his cable&mdash;hey? just my luck! Well, one might snooze
+comfortably on this here table&mdash;mightn't he? You can clear out, and
+I'll take care of the shop till morning."</p>
+
+<p>"That would be perfectly inadmissible, sir," said Simon, "the idea of
+a stranger's sleeping here!"</p>
+
+<p>"A stranger!" cried the sailor. "Why, shipmate, do you happen to know
+who I am? Look at me! Don't you find somewhat of a family likeness to
+Lucius in my old weather-beaten mug? Why, man-alive, I'm his
+brother,&mdash;his own blood brother! You must a heard him speak of me.
+Been cruising round the world in chase of Fortune, but could never
+overhaul her. Been sick, shipwrecked, and now come back as poor as I
+went. But Lucius has got<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> enough for both of us. How glad he'll be to
+see me to-morrow, hey, old Ink-and-tape?"</p>
+
+<p>Simon had his doubts about that matter, but told the sailor to come in
+the morning, and see.</p>
+
+<p>"That I will," said the tar, "and start him up with a rousing Happy
+New Year! But I say, shipmate, I don't want to sleep in the
+watch-house. Have you never a shilling about your trousers?"</p>
+
+<p>Simon answered that he hadn't a cent.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, don't that brother of mine give you good wages?"</p>
+
+<p>"Enormous!" said Simon.</p>
+
+<p>"What becomes of it all?"</p>
+
+<p>"I spend it all&mdash;I'm very extravagant," said Simon, shaking his head.
+"And then, I'm sorry to say, your brother isn't always punctual in his
+payments. To-night, for instance, I couldn't get a cent from him."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I tell you what I'd do, shipmate," said the sailor,
+confidentially. "I'd overhaul some of his letters. Steam will loosen a
+wafer, and a hot knife-blade, wax. I'd overhaul his money-letters and
+pay myself. Ha! ha! do you take? Now, that letter you've got in your
+fin, my boy, looks woundy like a dokiment chock full of shinplasters.
+What do you say to making prize of 'em? wouldn't it be a jolly go?"</p>
+
+<p>"Stand off!" said Simon, assuming a heavy round ruler and a commanding
+attitude. "Don't you come anigh me, or there'll be a case of
+justifiable homicide here. How dare you counsel me to commit a robbery
+on your own brother? I wonder you ain't ashamed to look me in the
+face."</p>
+
+<p>"A chap as has cruised as many years as I have in the low latitudes
+ain't afraid to look any body in the face," answered the "ancient
+mariner," grimly. "I made you a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> fair offer, shipmate, and you
+rejected it like a long-shore jackass as you are. Good night to ye."</p>
+
+<p>Much to his relief, the sailor took himself off, and Simon, after
+locking and double locking his door, went to the post-office and
+deposited the letter with which he had been intrusted. As he lived a
+great way up on the Neck, he did not reach home until after all the
+clocks of the city had struck twelve, so that he was able to surprise
+his little wife, who was sitting up for him, with a "Happy New Year!"</p>
+
+<p>He cast a rueful eye at the line of stockings hung along the
+mantel-piece in the sitting room, and then sorrowfully announced to
+his wife his failure to obtain money of Mr. Latitat.</p>
+
+<p>"There'll be nothing for the stockings, Meg," said he, "unless what
+the poor children put in ours."</p>
+
+<p>"I am very sorry," said his wife, who bore the announcement much
+better than he anticipated; "but we'll have a happy New Year for all
+that."</p>
+
+<p>Simon's roasted potatoes were completely charred, he had been detained
+so late; but there was a little meal in the centre of each, and
+charcoal is not at all unhealthy. He went to bed, and in spite of his
+cares, slept the sleep of the just.</p>
+
+<p>A confused babbling awoke him at daylight. Master Bobby was standing
+on his stomach, Miss Chiffy was seated nearly on his head, and baby
+was crowing in its cradle. Happy New Years and kisses were exchanged.
+"O, dear papa and mamma!" cried Bobby, "what a beautiful horse I found
+in my stocking!"</p>
+
+<p>"And what a beautiful wax doll, with eyes that move, in mine," said
+Chiffy,&mdash;"and such a splendid rattle and coral in baby's. Now, pray go
+down and see what there is in yours."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"This is some of your work, little woman," whispered Simon to his
+wife. But the little woman denied it emphatically. Much mystified, he
+hurried down to the breakfast room. The children had made the usual
+offering of very hard and highly-colored sugar plums; but in each of
+the two large stockings, stowed away at the bottom, was a roll of bank
+notes, five hundred dollars in each.</p>
+
+<p>"Somebody wants to ruin us!" cried Simon, bursting into tears. "This
+is stolen money, and they want to lay it on to us."</p>
+
+<p>"All I know about it," said Mrs. Quillpen, "is, that last night, just
+before you came home, a sailor man came here with all these things,
+and said they were for us, and made me promise to put them in the
+stockings, as he directed, and say nothing about his visit to you."</p>
+
+<p>"A sailor!" cried Simon&mdash;"I have it! I think I know who it is. Good
+by&mdash;I'll be back to breakfast directly."</p>
+
+<p>Simon ran to the office, and found, as he anticipated, Mr. Latitat
+there before him.</p>
+
+<p>"A happy New Year to you, sir," said he. "Have you seen your brother?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have not," replied Mr. Latitat.</p>
+
+<p>Simon then told him all that happened on the preceding night; the
+apparition of the sailor,&mdash;the temptation,&mdash;the money found in the
+stockings, in proof of which he showed the thousand dollars, and
+stating his fears that they had been stolen, offered to deposit the
+sum in his employer's hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep 'em, shipmate; they were meant for you!" exclaimed Mr. Latitat,
+suddenly and queerly, assuming the very voice and look of the nautical
+brother of the preceding evening.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>While Simon stared his eyes out of his head, Mr. Latitat informed him
+that he had no brother&mdash;that he had disguised himself for the purpose
+of putting his clerk's long-tried fidelity to a final test, and, that
+sustained triumphantly, had rewarded him in the manner we have seen.
+He told how, disgusted in early life by the treachery and ingratitude
+of friends and relations who had combined to ruin him, he had become a
+misanthrope and miser; how the spectacle of Simon's disinterested
+fidelity, rigid sense of honor, self-denial and cheerfulness, had won
+back his better nature; and he wound off, as he shook Quillpen warmly
+by the hand, by announcing that he had raised his salary to twelve
+hundred dollars per annum.</p>
+
+<p>The good news almost killed Simon. "Please your honor," said he,
+endeavoring to frame an appropriate reply,&mdash;"no&mdash;that ain't it&mdash;please
+your excellency&mdash;you've gone and done it&mdash;you've gone and done it! I
+was Baron Rothschild before, and now&mdash;no&mdash;I can't tell what I am&mdash;it
+isn't in no biographical dictionary, and I don't believe it's in the
+'Wealth of Nations!'"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, never mind," said Latitat, laughing, "go home and tell Mrs. Q.
+the office won't be open till to-morrow, and that I shall depend on
+dining with you all to-day."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_OBLIGING_YOUNG_MAN" id="THE_OBLIGING_YOUNG_MAN"></a>THE OBLIGING YOUNG MAN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Cars ready for Boston and way stations!" shouted the conductor of a
+railroad train, as the steamhorse, harnessed for his twenty mile trip,
+stood chafing, snorting, and coughing, throwing up angry puffs of
+mingled gray and dingy vapor from his sturdy lungs. "Cars ready for
+Boston and way stations!"</p>
+
+<p>"O, yes!" replied a brisk young man, with a bright eye, peculiar
+smirk, spotted neckcloth, and gray gaiters with pearl buttons. "Cars
+ready for Boston and way stations. All aboard. Now's your time&mdash;quick,
+or you'll lose 'em. Now then, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>"But, sir," remonstrated the old lady he addressed, and whom he was
+urging at the steps of a first class car.</p>
+
+<p>"O, never mind!" replied the brisk young man. "Know what you're going
+to say&mdash;too much trouble&mdash;none whatever, I assure you. Perfect
+stranger, true&mdash;but scriptural injunction, do as you'd be done by. In
+with you&mdash;ding! ding!&mdash;there's the bell&mdash;off we go."</p>
+
+<p>And so in fact they did go off at forty miles an hour.</p>
+
+<p>"But, sir," said the old lady, trembling violently.</p>
+
+<p>"I see," interrupted the <span class="smcap">obliging young man</span>; "want a
+seat&mdash;here it is&mdash;a great bargain&mdash;cars full&mdash;quick, or you'll lose
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"But, sir," said the old lady, with nervous trepidation, "I&mdash;I&mdash;wasn't
+going to Boston."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The deuce you weren't. Well, well, well, why couldn't you say so?
+Hullo! Conductor! Stop the cars!"</p>
+
+<p>"Can't do it," replied the conductor. "This train don't stop short of
+Woburn watering station."</p>
+
+<p>"Woburn watering station!" whimpered the old woman, wringing her
+hands. "O, what shall I do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sit still; take it easy&mdash;no use crying for spilt milk; what can't be
+cured must be endured. I'll look out sharp; you might have saved
+yourself all this trouble."</p>
+
+<p>Away went the cars, racketting and oscillating, while the obliging
+young man was looking round for another recipient of his good
+services.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha!" he muttered to himself. "There's a poor young fellow quite
+alone. Lovesick, perhaps; pale cheek&mdash;sunken eye&mdash;never told his love;
+but let&mdash;Shakspeare&mdash;I'm his man! Must look out for the old woman.
+Here we are, ma'am, fifteen miles to Lowell&mdash;out with you&mdash;look out
+for the cars on the back track. Good by&mdash;pleasant trip!"</p>
+
+<p>Ding dong, went the bell again.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo! here's her bundle! Catch, there&mdash;heads! All right&mdash;get on,
+driver!"</p>
+
+<p>And having tossed a bundle after the old woman, he resumed his seat.</p>
+
+<p>"Confound it!" roared a fat man in a blue spencer. "You're treading on
+my corns."</p>
+
+<p>"Beg pardon," said the obliging young man. "Bad things,
+corns,&mdash;'trifling sum of misery new added to the foot of your
+account;' old author&mdash;name forgotten. Never mind&mdash;drive on!"</p>
+
+<p>"But where's my bundle?" asked the fat man. "Conductor! Where's my
+bundle? Brown paper&mdash;red string. Saw it here a moment since."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The conductor knew nothing about it. The obliging young man did. It
+was the same he had thrown out after the old woman.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll find it some where," he said, with a consolatory wink. "Can't
+lose a brown paper bundle. I've tried&mdash;often&mdash;always turned up; little
+boy sure to bring it. 'Here's your bundle, sir; ninepence, please.'
+All right&mdash;go ahead!"</p>
+
+<p>Here the obliging young man took his seat beside the pale-faced youth.</p>
+
+<p>"Ill health, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," replied the pale-faced youth, fidgeting.</p>
+
+<p>"Mental malady&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>The young man sighed.</p>
+
+<p>"See it all. Don't say a word, man! Cupid, heart from heart, forced to
+part. Flinty-hearted father?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Flinty-hearted mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Flinty-hearted aunt?"</p>
+
+<p>The lovesick young man sighed, and nodded assent.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me the story. I'm a stranger&mdash;but my heart is here, sir."
+Whereupon the obliging young man referred to a watch pocket in his
+plaid vest, and nodded with a great deal of intelligence. "Tell me
+all&mdash;like to serve my fellows&mdash;no other occupation; out with it, as
+the doctor said to the little boy that swallowed his sister's
+necklace."</p>
+
+<p>The lovesick youth informed the obliging young man that he loved and
+was beloved by a young lady of Boston, whose aunt, acting as her
+guardian, opposed his suit. He was going to Boston to put a plan of
+elopement into operation. He had prepared two letters, one to the aunt
+renouncing his hopes, to throw her off her guard; the other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> to the
+young lady, appointing a meeting at the Providence cars. The
+difficulty was to get the letters delivered. This the obliging young
+man readily undertook to do in person. Both the aunt and niece bore
+the same name&mdash;Emeline Brown; but the aunt's letter was sealed with
+black, the niece's with red wax. The letters were delivered with many
+injunctions to the obliging young man, and the two new-made friends
+parted on the arrival of the cars in Boston.</p>
+
+<p>The Providence cars were just getting ready to start, when, amid all
+the bustle and confusion, a pale-faced young man "might have been
+seen," as Mr. James, the novelist, says, nervously pacing to and fro,
+and occasionally darting into Pleasant Street, and scrutinizing every
+approaching passenger and vehicle. At last, when there was but a
+single moment to spare, a hack drove up furiously, and a veiled lady
+hastily descended, and gave her hand to her expectant admirer.</p>
+
+<p>"Quick, Emeline, or we shall lose the train!"</p>
+
+<p>The enamoured couple were soon seated beside each other, and whirling
+away to Providence. The lady said little, but sat with downcast head
+and veiled face, apparently overwhelmed with confusion at the step she
+had taken. But it was enough for young Dovekin to know she was beside
+him, and he poured forth an unbroken stream of delicious nonsense,
+till the train arrived at its destination.</p>
+
+<p>In the station house the lady lifted her veil. Horror and confusion!
+It was the aunt! The obliging young man had delivered the wrong
+letter.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," said Miss Brown, "I am the person whom you qualified, in
+your letter intended for my niece, as a 'hateful hag, in whose eyes
+you were throwing dust'. What do you say to that, sir?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Say!" replied the disconsolate Dovekin. "It's no use to say any
+thing; for it is my settled purpose to spring over the parapet of the
+railroad bridge and seek oblivion in a watery grave. But first, if I
+could find that obliging young man, I'd be the death of him."</p>
+
+<p>"No you wouldn't," said the voice of that interesting individual, as
+he made his appearance with a lady on his arm. "Here she is&mdash;take
+her&mdash;be happy. After I'd given the notes, mind misgave me&mdash;went back
+to the house&mdash;found the aunt gone&mdash;niece in tears&mdash;followed
+after&mdash;same train&mdash;last car&mdash;here she is!"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope this will be a lesson," said Dovekin.</p>
+
+<p>"So it is. Henceforth, I shall mind my own business; for every thing
+I've undertaken lately, on other folks' account, has gone amiss. Come,
+aunty, give your blessing&mdash;let 'em go. Train ready&mdash;I'm off&mdash;best of
+wishes&mdash;good by. Cars ready for Boston and way stations!&mdash;all aboard."</p>
+
+<p>The aunt gave her blessing; and this was the last that any of the
+party saw of the <i>Obliging Young Man</i>.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="EULALIE_LASALLE" id="EULALIE_LASALLE"></a>EULALIE LASALLE.</h2>
+
+<h3>A STORY OF THE REIGN OF TERROR.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">O, what was love made for if 'twas not for this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The same amidst sorrow, and transport, and bliss?<br /></span>
+</div></div><p class="sig">
+<span class="smcap">Moore.</span>
+</p>
+
+
+<p>The fanaticism of the French revolutionists had reached its height;
+the excitable population, intoxicated with power, and maddened by the
+vague dread of the retribution of despair, goaded on by profligate,
+ferocious, or insane leaders, was plunging into the most revolting and
+sanguinary excesses. The son of St. Louis had ascended to heaven, the
+beautiful and unfortunate Marie Antoinette had laid her head upon the
+block, the baby heir of the throne of the Capets was languishing in
+the hands of his keepers, and the Girondists, the true friends of
+republican liberty, were silenced by exile or the scaffold. In short,
+the Reign of Terror, the memorable sway of Robespierre, hung like a
+funeral pall upon the land which was fast becoming a vast cemetery.
+The provincial towns, faithful echoes of the central capital, were
+repeating the theme of horror with a thousand variations. Each
+considerable city had its guillotine, and where that instrument of
+punishment was wanting, the fusillade or the mitraille supplied its
+place.</p>
+
+<p>At this crisis, Eugene Beauvallon, a young merchant of Toulouse,
+presented himself one morning in the drawing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> room of Mademoiselle
+Eulalie Lasalle, an orphan girl of great beauty and accomplishment, to
+whom he had long been betrothed, and whom he would ere this have
+married but for the political troubles of the period. Eulalie was a
+graceful creature, slenderly and symmetrically formed, with soft blue
+eyes, and an exceedingly gentle expression, which was indicative of
+her character. She seemed too fair and fragile to buffet with the
+storms of life, and ill fitted to endure its troubles, created to be
+the idol of a drawing room, the fairy queen of a boudoir.</p>
+
+<p>Eugene was a handsome, manly fellow, of great energy and character.
+The revolution surprised him in the act of making a fortune; the
+whirlwind had stripped him of most of his property, but had yet left
+him liberty and life. He had contrived to avoid rendering himself
+obnoxious to the sansculottes without securing their confidence. The
+tri-colored cockade which he wore in his hat shielded him from the
+fatal epithet of aristocrat&mdash;a certain passport to the guillotine.</p>
+
+<p>Beauvallon then seated himself beside Eulalie, who was struck with the
+radiant expression of his countenance, and begged to know the reason
+of his joyous excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"I have good news to tell you," he said, gayly; "but we are not
+alone," he added, stopping short, as his eyes rested on the sinister
+face of an old woman, humbly attired, who was busily engaged in
+knitting, not far from the lovers.</p>
+
+<p>"O, don't mind poor old Mannette," said Eulalie. "The poor old
+creature is past hearing thunder. It is a woman, Eugene, I rescued
+from absolute starvation, and she is so grateful, and seems so
+desirous of doing something to render herself useful, that I am
+mortified almost at her sense of the obligation."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope she has not supplanted your pretty <i>femme de chambre</i>, Julie,
+of whom you threatened to be jealous. My admiration, I hope, has not
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
+cost the girl her place."</p>
+
+<p>"O, dear, no! I couldn't part with Julie!" replied Eulalie, laughing
+gayly. "But come, you must not tantalize me&mdash;what has occurred to make
+you so gay, at a time when every true Frenchman wears a face of
+mourning?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Marquis de Montmorenci is at liberty."</p>
+
+<p>"At liberty? How happened it that the Revolutionary Tribunal acquitted
+him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Acquitted him! Eulalie, does the tiger that has once tasted the blood
+of his prey permit him to escape? Is Robespierre more lenient than the
+beast of prey? No, Eulalie, he escaped by the aid of a true friend. He
+fled from Paris, reached Toulouse, and found shelter under my roof!"</p>
+
+<p>The cheek of Eulalie turned ashy pale. "Under your roof!" she
+faltered. "Do you know the penalty of sheltering a fugitive from
+justice?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is death upon the scaffold," answered the young merchant, calmly.
+"But better that a thousand times than the sin of ingratitude; the sin
+of turning a deaf ear to the claims of humanity."</p>
+
+<p>"My own noble Eugene!" exclaimed the young girl, enthusiastically,
+pressing her lover's hand. "Every day increases my love, my respect
+for you, and my sense of my own unworthiness. But you will never have
+to blush for the inferiority of your wife."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, dearest?" inquired Eugene, with alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"This is no time for marriage," said Eulalie, sadly. "Images of death
+and violence meet our eyes whichever way they turn. We were born,
+Eugene, in melancholy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> times, and our loves are misplaced. We shall
+meet hereafter; on this earth, I fear, our destinies will never be
+united."</p>
+
+<p>"Prophetess of evil!" said Beauvallon, gayly. "Your rosy lips belie
+your gloomy augury. No, Eulalie, this dark cloud cannot forever
+overshadow the land&mdash;even now I think I can see glimpses of the blue
+sky. <i>Le bon temps viendra</i>,&mdash;the good time is coming,&mdash;and then,
+Eulalie, be sure that I will claim your promised hand."</p>
+
+<p>The conversation of the lovers had been so animated and interesting
+that they did not notice the moment when old Mannette had glided like
+a spectre from the apartment.</p>
+
+<p>Beauvallon lingered a while,&mdash;"parting is such sweet sorrow,"&mdash;and
+finally reluctantly tore himself from the presence of Eulalie,
+promising to see her again on the ensuing day, and let her know
+whatever had transpired in the interim.</p>
+
+<p>As he approached the street in which his store and house were
+situated, he heard the confused murmur of a multitude, and soon
+perceived, on turning the corner, that a very large crowd was
+collected outside his door. There were men and women&mdash;many of the
+former armed with pikes and sabres&mdash;the latter, the refuse of the
+populace, who appeared like birds of evil omen at every scene of
+violence and tumult.</p>
+
+<p>A hundred voices called out his name as he approached, and menacing
+gestures were addressed to him by the multitude.</p>
+
+<p>"Citizens," said the merchant, "what is the meaning of all this?"</p>
+
+<p>"You shall know, traitor," shrieked a palsied hag of eighty, whose
+lurid eyes had already gloated on every public execution that had
+taken place in Toulouse. "Here is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> Citizen Dumart of the revolutionary
+committee&mdash;ah, <i>he</i> is a true friend of the people&mdash;he is no
+aristocrat in disguise! <i>Vive le Citoyen Dumart!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Long live Citizen Dumart! Down with the aristocrats!" shouted a
+hundred voices.</p>
+
+<p>The Citizen Dumart was a sallow-faced man, dressed in rusty black,
+wearing an enormous tri-colored cockade in his three-cornered hat,
+with a sash of the same color girt around his waist. His bloodshot
+eyes expressed a mixture of cowardice with ferocity. He was flanked by
+a couple of pikemen as hideous as the Afrites of Eastern romance.</p>
+
+<p>"Citizen Beauvallon," said he, in a voice whose tremor betrayed his
+native timidity, "I arrest you in the name of the revolutionary
+committee of Toulouse. Citizen Beauvallon, it is useless to resist the
+authority of the representatives of the people; if you have any
+concealed weapons about you, I advise you to surrender them. You see I
+stand here protected by the arms of the people."</p>
+
+<p>"I have no weapons," replied Beauvallon. "I have no sinister designs.
+I know not why I am arrested. Acquaint me with the charge, and
+confront me with my accusers."</p>
+
+<p>"Seize upon the prisoner!" cried Dumart to his satellites. And he
+breathed freer when he saw the merchant in the gripe of two muscular
+ruffians, whose iron hands compressed his wrists as if they were
+manacles.</p>
+
+<p>"Away with him!" screamed the hag who had spoken before. "Away with
+him to the revolutionary committee! Down with the aristocrats!"</p>
+
+<p>Followed by the imprecations of the crowd, Beauvallon was conducted to
+the town house, and in a very few moments was placed at the bar of the
+revolutionary committee<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>&mdash;a body invested with the power of life and
+death. On his way thither he had found means to speak a word to an
+acquaintance in the crowd, and to beg him to inform Eulalie of what
+had happened.</p>
+
+<p>So soon as he had heard the accusation read, and knew that he was
+charged with the crime of aiding the Marquis de Montmorenci, a
+fugitive from justice, he felt that his situation was indeed critical;
+but mingled with his astonishment and dread was a curiosity to learn
+whence his denunciation could have proceeded&mdash;who could have lodged
+the information against him. He was not long kept in suspense, for the
+witness brought on the stand to confront him was no other than
+Mannette, the supposed deaf servant of Eulalie Lasalle, who had
+overheard his confession of the morning, and hastened to denounce him.
+Though his sentence was not immediately pronounced, and the decision
+of his case was deferred till the next day, Beauvallon felt that his
+doom was sealed.</p>
+
+<p>He was conveyed to a house in the vicinity of the town hall for
+confinement, as the prisons were all overstocked. His jailer was a man
+whom the merchant had formerly befriended, and whose heart was not
+inaccessible to emotions of pity, though he was above bribery, and
+evidently determined to execute his duty to the letter.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a favor to ask of you, my friend," said the prisoner, slipping
+a golden louis into his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"If it is one that I can grant without violating my duty," replied the
+jailer, returning the money to Beauvallon, "I will do so for the sake
+of old times, but not for gold."</p>
+
+<p>Beauvallon explained that he wished to send a note to Mlle. Lasalle,
+requesting her to visit him in prison&mdash;an interview which would
+probably be their last, and the jailer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> undertook readily to see the
+missive delivered, and to permit the visit. The note having been
+despatched, Beauvallon sat down to wait for the arrival of his
+mistress.</p>
+
+<p>The sad hours passed away,&mdash;but though he learned from the jailer that
+his errand had been performed, no Eulalie made her appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"She forsakes me!" he muttered bitterly. "The wounded deer is
+abandoned by the herd, and an unfortunate man is shunned by his
+fellows. Well, the dream was pleasant while it lasted&mdash;the regret of
+awakening can scarce be tedious&mdash;a few hours, and all the incidents of
+this transitory life will be forgotten. But Eulalie&mdash;whom I loved
+better than my life itself&mdash;it is hard to die without one word from
+thee."</p>
+
+<p>When on the following day Beauvallon was again taken before the
+revolutionary committee, he looked anxiously around the court room to
+see if he could discover the face of Eulalie among the spectators,
+many of whom were women. But he was disappointed. Her absence
+convinced him that she had abandoned him, and wholly absorbed by this
+reflection, he paid no attention to the formula of his trial. He was
+condemned to death, the sentence to be executed on the following day.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. President," said he, rising, "I thank you, and I have merely one
+favor to ask. Anticipate the time of punishment&mdash;let it be to-day
+instead of to-morrow&mdash;let me go hence to the scaffold."</p>
+
+<p>"Your request is reasonable," replied the president, in a bland voice,
+"and if circumstances permitted, it would afford me the greatest
+pleasure to grant it. But the guillotine requires repair, and will not
+be in a condition to perform its functions until to-morrow, at which
+time, Citi<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>zen Beauvallon, at the hour of ten, A.M., you will have
+ceased to exist. Good night, and pleasant dreams!"</p>
+
+<p>This sally was received with roars of applause, and the unhappy
+prisoner was reconducted to the place of confinement.</p>
+
+<p>That night was a sleepless one. Beauvallon's arrest, his speedy trial
+and condemnation, the desertion of Eulalie, had followed each other
+with such stunning rapidity, that, until now, he had hardly time to
+reflect upon the dismal chain of circumstances&mdash;now they pressed upon
+his attention, and crowded his mind to overflowing. At midnight, as he
+lay tossing on his bed, upon which he had thrown himself without
+undressing, he thought he heard a confused noise in the apartment of
+the next house adjoining his. The noise increased. He placed his hand
+upon the wall, and felt it jar under successive shocks. Suddenly a
+current of air blew in upon him, and at the same time a faint ray of
+light streamed through an opening in the partition.</p>
+
+<p>"Courage!" said a soft voice. "The opening enlarges. Now, Julie!"</p>
+
+<p>Julie! Beauvallon was sure he heard the name, and yet uncertain
+whether or not he was dreaming.</p>
+
+<p>"Julie!" he exclaimed, cautiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, monsieur&mdash;it is Julie&mdash;sure enough," answered a pleasant voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you, at least, have not forgotten me."</p>
+
+<p>"No one who has once known you can ever forget you. Courage! you will
+soon be free. Aid us if you can."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you are not alone?"</p>
+
+<p>"Have patience, and you will see."</p>
+
+<p>His own exertions, added to those of his friends without, soon enabled
+the prisoner to force his way into the next house; but there
+disappointment awaited him. Two<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> soldiers in the uniform of the
+<i>gensdarmerie</i> stood before him.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>On ne passe par ici</i>,&mdash;you can't pass here,"&mdash;said one.</p>
+
+<p>"What cruel mockery is this?" cried Beauvallon. "Is it not enough that
+I am condemned to death, but you must subject me to an atrocious
+pleasantry? This is refinement of cruelty."</p>
+
+<p>"It seems that our disguise is perfect, Julie," said the soldier who
+had not yet spoken. "Eugene does not know his best friends."</p>
+
+<p>In an instant the speaker was folded in the arms of Beauvallon. It was
+Eulalie herself, as bewitchingly beautiful in her uniform as in the
+habiliments of her sex. She hurriedly explained that the moment she
+heard of Eugene's arrest, she prepared to meet the worst contingency.
+She had already converted her money into cash. Learning the place of
+his imprisonment, she had hired, through the agency of another person,
+the adjoining house, which happened to be unoccupied. The task of
+making an aperture in the partition was an easy one&mdash;the difficulty of
+passing through the city was greater. The idea of military disguises
+then occurred. Julie and herself had already equipped themselves, and
+they were provided with a uniform for Beauvallon.</p>
+
+<p>Secured by this costume, the three fugitives ventured forth. In the
+great square of the city, workmen were busily employed in repairing
+the hideous engine of death, and Beauvallon passed, not without a
+shudder, beneath the very shadow of the guillotine, to which he had
+been doomed.</p>
+
+<p>Seated on the cold ground, beneath the fatal apparatus, was an old
+woman muttering to herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Good evening, citizens," said she. "We shall have a fine day for the
+show to-morrow. Look how the bonny<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> stars are winking and blinking on
+the gay knife blade they've been sharpening. It will be darker and
+redder when the clock strikes ten again. Down with the aristocrats!"</p>
+
+<p>The fugitives needed no more to quicken their steps. They reached the
+frontiers in safety, and beyond the Rhine, in the hospitable land of
+Germany, the lovers were united; nor did they return to France till
+the star of Robespierre had set in blood, and the master mind of
+Napoleon had placed its impress on the destinies of France. </p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_OLD_CITY_PUMP" id="THE_OLD_CITY_PUMP"></a>THE OLD CITY PUMP.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Many evenings since, we were passing up State Street late at night.
+State Street at midnight is a very different affair from State Street
+at high noon. The shadows of the tall buildings fall on a deserted
+thoroughfare; save where, here and there, a spectral bank watchman
+keeps ward over the granite sepulchres of golden eagles, and the
+flimsier representatives of wealth. The bulls and bears have retired
+to their dens, and East India merchants are invisible. Newsboys are
+nowhere, and every sound has died away. There stands the Old State
+House, peculiar and picturesque, rising with a look of other days, a
+relic of past time, against the deep blue sky, or webbing the full
+moon with the delicate tracery of its slender spars and signal
+halliards. And there stands&mdash;no! there stood the old Town Pump. But it
+is no more&mdash;<i>Ilium fuit</i> was written on its forehead&mdash;it has been
+reformed out of office, its occupation has gone, its handle has been
+amputated, its body has been dissected, and there is nothing of it
+left.</p>
+
+<p>Yet on the evening to which we alluded in the beginning, the old pump
+was there, and crossing over from the Merchants Bank, we leaned
+against its handle, as one leans against the arm of an old friend, in
+a musing, idle mood. Presently we heard a gurgling sound and confused
+murmurs issuing from its lips&mdash;"like airy tongues that syllable men's
+names." Anon these murmurs shaped themselves<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> into distinct
+articulations, and as we listened, wonderingly, the old pump spoke:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Past twelve o'clock, and a moonlight night. All well, as I'm a pump.
+Nobody breaking into banks, and nobody kicking up rows&mdash;watchmen fast
+asleep, and every body quiet. But I can't sleep. No! the city
+government has murdered sleep! There's something heavy on my buckets,
+and I fear me, I'm a gone sucker! They thought I couldn't find out
+what they were up to&mdash;the municipal government&mdash;but I'm a deep one,
+and I know every thing that's going for'ard. What a jolly go, to be
+sure! They told me Mayor Bigelow hated proscription&mdash;but I knew it was
+gammon! He must follow the fashion, and Cochituate is all the go.
+There ain't no pumps now&mdash;it's all fountain! Pump water is full of
+animalcul&aelig;, and straddle bugs don't exist in pond water&mdash;of course
+not. Nobody ever see young pollywogs and snapping turtles floating
+down stream in fly-time. Certainly not! I'm getting old&mdash;of course I
+am; that's the talk! I've been in office too long. Well, well, I know
+I'm rather asthmatic and phthisicky&mdash;but nobody ever knowed me to
+suck, even in the driest time. These living waters have welled up even
+from the time when the salt sea was divided from the land, and the
+rocks were cloven by the hand of Omnipotence, and the sweet spring
+came bursting upward from the fragrant earth, and light and flowers
+came together to welcome the birthday of the glad and glorious gift.
+Here, many a century back, the giant mastodon trod the earth into deep
+hollows, as he moved upon his sounding path. Then came another time.
+In the hollow of the three hills, the Indian raised his bark wigwam,
+and the smoke of his council fire curled up like a mist-wreath in the
+forest. Here the red man filled the wild gourd cup when he returned
+weary from the chase or the skirmish. And here,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> too, the Indian
+maiden smoothed her dark locks, and her lustrous, laughing eyes gazed
+upon the image of her own dusky beauty, mirrored on the surface of the
+wave. By and by the red man ceased to drink of my unfailing rill.
+Beings with pale faces came to me to quench their thirst; bearded lips
+were moistened with my diamond drops; and I looked up upon iron
+corselet and steel hauberk, and faces harder than either. But the old
+Puritans gave me form and substance&mdash;a 'local habitation and a name.'
+The spirit of the fountain was wedded to its present tabernacle. The
+dwellings of men sprang up around me in the place of the departing
+forest. I gave them all a cheerful welcome. If the colonists worked
+hard, I worked harder yet. I filled their pails and cups, and revived
+their failing hearts, and cheered their unremitting labors. They
+called me their friend. The pretty girls smiled upon me, as, under
+pretence of levying contributions on my treasures, they chatted with
+young men who gathered at my side. Then came a sterner period. I heard
+no more love tales&mdash;no more idle gossip. Men stood here, and spoke of
+deep wrong, of tyranny, of trampled rights, of resistance, of liberty!
+That was a word I had not heard since the red man drank of my
+unfettered tide. One night, there was a great gathering here. There
+were men and boys, a multitude. There was much angry talk and much
+confusion. Then I heard the roll of the drum and the regular tramp of
+an armed force. A band of British soldiers, all resplendent with
+scarlet, and gold, and burnished muskets that glittered in the
+moonbeams, were formed into line at the command of an officer, and
+confronted the dark array of citizens. Then came an angry
+discussion&mdash;orders on the part of the commander for the multitude to
+disperse, which were unheeded or disobeyed. Then that line of
+glittering tubes was levelled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> I heard the fatal word "fire!" the
+flame leaped from the muzzles of the muskets, and the volley crashed
+and echoed in the street. Blood flowed upon the pavement&mdash;the blood of
+citizens mingled with my waters, and I was the witness of a fearful
+tragedy. In after times, I heard it named the Boston Massacre. Since
+then, I have seen hours of sunshine and triumph, of fun and frolic, of
+anger and rejoicing. My waters have laved the dust that it might not
+soil the uniform of Washington as he rode past on his snow-white
+charger, amid the acclamations of the multitude. I have seen Hull and
+his tars pass up the street, bearing the stripes and stars in triumph
+from the war of the ocean. I have heard long-winded orators spout over
+my head in emulation of my craft, "in one weak, washy, everlasting
+flood." I have seen many a military, many a civic pageant. The last I
+witnessed was, as Dick Swiveller remarks, a 'stifler.' It was that
+confounded Water Celebration. Republics <i>is</i> ungrateful. I was
+forgotten on that occasion. Nobody drank at the old city pump. People
+sat on my head and stood on my nose, just as if I had no feelings. I
+heard a young lady in the gallery overhead say, 'Well, that horrid old
+pump will soon be out of the way now.' And a city father answered her,
+'Of course.' It was a workin' then&mdash;treason and fate, and all them
+things. I knew they were going to 'put me out of my misery,' as the
+saying goes. I'm getting superannuated&mdash;I heard 'em say so. Sometimes
+an office boy tastes a drop, and then turns up his nose,&mdash;as if it
+wasn't pug enough before,&mdash;and says, 'What horrid stuff! the
+Cochituate for my money!' General Washington's canteen was filled
+here&mdash;and he said, 'Delicious!' when he raised it to his lips. But he
+was no judge, of course not. Time was when I wasn't slow but I'm not
+fast enough for this gen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>eration. When folks write letters with
+lightning, and sail ships with tea-kettles, pumps can't come it over
+'em. Well, well, I'll hold out to the last&mdash;I'll make 'em carry me off
+and bury me decently at the city's expense, and perhaps some kind old
+friend will write my epitaph."</p>
+
+<p>The old pump was mute&mdash;the speech was ended&mdash;its "song had died into
+an echo." We passed on mournful and thoughtful. Republics are
+ungrateful&mdash;old friends are forgotten with a change of fashion, and
+there is a period to the greatness of town pumps as well as the glory
+of individuals.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_TWO_PORTRAITS" id="THE_TWO_PORTRAITS"></a>THE TWO PORTRAITS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Beautiful! beautiful!" exclaimed Ernest Lavalle, as, throwing himself
+back in his chair, he contemplated, with eyes half shut, a lovely
+countenance that smiled on him from a canvas, to which he had just
+added a few hesitating touches. It was but a sketch&mdash;little more than
+outline and dead coloring, and a misty haze seemed spread over the
+face, so that it looked vision-like and intangible. The young
+painter's exclamation was not addressed to his workmanship&mdash;he was not
+even looking at that faint image; but, through its medium, was gazing
+on lineaments as rare and fascinating as ever floated through a poet's
+or an artist's dream. Deep, lustrous blue eyes, in whose depth
+sincerity and feeling lay crystallized; features as regular as those
+of a Grecian statue; a lip melting, ripe, and dewy, half concealing,
+half revealing, a line of pearls; soft brown hair, descending in waves
+upon a neck and shoulders of satin surface and Parian firmness. Such
+were some of the external traits of loveliness belonging to</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"A creature not too bright and good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For human nature's daily food,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>who had completely actualized the ideal of the young Parisian artist,
+into whose studio we have introduced our readers. The fair original,
+whose portrait is before us, was Rose d'Amour, a beautiful actress of
+one of the metropoli<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>tan theatres, who had just made her debut with
+distinguished success. There was quite a romance in her history. Of
+unknown parents, she had commenced her career&mdash;like the celebrated
+Rachel&mdash;as a street singer, and was looking forward to no more
+brilliant future, when her beauty, genius, and purity of character
+attracted the attention of a distinguished newspaper editor, by whose
+benevolent generosity she was enabled to prepare herself for the
+stage, by two or three years of assiduous study. The success of his
+prot&eacute;g&eacute;e more than repaid the kind patron for his exertions and
+expenditure.</p>
+
+<p>A word of Ernest Lavalle, and it shall suffice. He was the son of a
+humble vine dresser in one of the agricultural departments of France.
+His talent for drawing, early manifested, attracted the notice of his
+parish priest, whose earnest representations induced his father to
+send the boy to Paris, and give him the advantages afforded by the
+capital for students of art. In the great city, Ernest allowed none of
+the attractions, by which he was surrounded, to divert him from the
+assiduous pursuit of his beloved art. His mornings were passed in the
+gallery of the Louvre, his afternoons in private study, and his
+evenings at the academy, where he drew from casts and the living
+model. The only relaxation he permitted himself, was an occasional
+excursion in the picturesque environs of the French capital; and he
+always took his sketch book with him, thus making even his pleasure
+subservient to his studies. Two prizes obtained, for a drawing and a
+picture, secured for him the patronage of the academy, at whose
+expense he was sent to Italy, to pursue his studies in the famous
+galleries of Rome and Florence. He returned with a mind imbued with
+the beauty and majesty of the works of those great masters, whose
+glory will outlive the canvas and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> marble which achieved it,
+determined to win for himself a niche in the temple of Fame, or perish
+in his laborious efforts to obtain it. At this time he was in his
+twenty-second year. A vigorous constitution was his heritage; and his
+rounded cheek glowed with the warm color of health. His strictly
+classical features were enhanced by the luxuriance of his hair, which
+he wore flowing in its native curls, while his full beard and mustache
+relieved his face from the charge of effeminacy.</p>
+
+<p>Ernest was yet engaged in the contemplation of the unfinished work&mdash;or
+rather in dreaming of the bright original&mdash;when a light tap was heard
+at his door. He opened it eagerly, and his poor studio was suddenly
+illuminated, as it were, by the radiant apparition of Rose d'Amour.
+She was dressed with a charming simplicity, which well became a sylph
+like form, that required no adventitious aid from art.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning, Monsieur Lavalle!" said the beautiful actress,
+cheerfully, as she dropped gracefully into the <i>fauteuil</i> prepared for
+her reception. "You find me in the best possible humor to-day, thanks
+to this bright morning sun, and to the success of last night. <i>Mon
+Dieu!</i> so many bouquets! you can't think! Really, the life of an
+<i>artiste</i> begins to be amusing. Don't you find it so, as a painter?"</p>
+
+<p>"I confess to you, mademoiselle, I have my moments of despondency."</p>
+
+<p>"With your fine talent! Think better of yourself. I hope, at least,
+that I have not been so unlucky as to surprise you in one of those
+inopportune moments."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, mademoiselle," said the painter, "if it were so, one of your
+smiles would dispel the cloud in a moment."</p>
+
+<p>"Really!" replied the actress, gayly. "Are you quite sure there is no
+flattery in the remark? I am aware that flattery is an essential part
+of an artist's profession."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Not of a true artist's," replied Ernest. "The aim and end of all art
+is truth; and he who forgets it is untrue to his high mission."</p>
+
+<p>"True," said the lady. "Well, then, <i>faites votre possible</i>&mdash;as
+Napoleon said to his friend David&mdash;for I am anxious that this portrait
+shall be a <i>chef-d'&oelig;uvre</i>. I design it for a present."</p>
+
+<p>"With such a subject before me," replied the painter "I could not
+labor more conscientiously, if the picture were designed for myself."</p>
+
+<p>The sitting passed away rapidly, for the artist; and he was surprised
+when the lady, after consulting her watch, rose hastily, and
+exclaimed, "That odious rehearsal! I must leave you&mdash;but you ought to
+be satisfied, for I have given you two hours of my valuable time.
+Adieu, then, until to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>With a smile that seemed natural to her, the beautiful girl vanished,
+taking with her half the sunshine of the room.</p>
+
+<p>The painter continued his labor of love. Indeed, so absorbed was he in
+his employment, that he did not notice the entrance of a visitor,
+until he felt a light tap on his shoulder, accompanied by the words,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Bravo, <i>mon cher</i>! You are getting on famously. That is Rose
+herself&mdash;as radiant as she appears on the stage, when the focus of a
+<i>lorgnette</i> has excluded all the stupid and <i>ennuyantes</i> figures that
+surround her."</p>
+
+<p>The speaker was Sir Frederic Stanley, an English baronet, now some
+months in Paris, where he had plunged into all the gayeties of the
+season. He was a handsome man, of middle age, whose features bore the
+impress of dissipation.</p>
+
+<p>"You know the original, then?" asked the painter, somewhat coldly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Know her! My dear fellow, I don't know any body else, as the Yankees
+say. Why, I have the entry of the <i>Gait&eacute;</i>, and pass all my evenings
+behind the scenes. I flatter myself&mdash;but no matter. I have taken a
+fancy to that picture: what do you say to a hundred louis for it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is not for me to dispose of it."</p>
+
+<p>"You have succeeded so well, you wish to keep it for yourself&mdash;eh?
+Double the price, and let me have it!"</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible, Sir Frederic. It is painted for Mlle. d'Amour herself,
+and she designs it for a present."</p>
+
+<p>"Say no more," said the baronet, with a self-satisfied smile. "I think
+I could name the happy individual."</p>
+
+<p>Ernest would not gratify his visitor by a question, and the latter,
+finding the artist reserved and <i>distrait</i>, suddenly recollected the
+races at Chantilly, and took his leave.</p>
+
+<p>"Can it be possible," thought the painter, "that Rose has suffered her
+affections to repose on that conceited, purse-proud, elderly
+Englishman? O, woman! woman! how readily you barter the wealth of your
+heart for a handful of gold!"</p>
+
+<p>Another tap at the door&mdash;another visitor! Really, Lavalle must be
+getting famous! This time it is a lady&mdash;a lady of surpassing
+loveliness&mdash;one of those well-preserved Englishwomen, who, at forty,
+are as attractive as at twenty. This lady was tall and stately, with
+elegant manners, and perhaps a thought of sadness in her expression.
+She gazed long and earnestly upon the portrait of Rose d'Amour.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a beautiful face!" she said, at length. "And one that
+indicates, I should think, goodness of heart."</p>
+
+<p>"She is an angel!" said the painter.</p>
+
+<p>"You speak warmly, sir," said the lady, with a sad smile.</p>
+
+<p>Ernest blushed, for he feared that he had betrayed his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> secret. The
+lady did not appear to notice his embarrassment, and passed to the
+occasion of her visit, which was to engage the young artist to paint
+her portrait&mdash;a task which he readily undertook, for he was pleased
+with, and interested in, his fair patroness. The picture was
+immediately commenced, and an hour fixed for a second sitting, on the
+next day. It was on that occasion that the fair unknown encountered
+the actress, and they retired in company.</p>
+
+<p>The two portraits were finished at the same time, and reflected the
+greatest credit upon the artist. They were varnished, framed, and paid
+for, but the painter had received no orders for their final
+disposition, when, one morning, he was waited on by the two ladies,
+who informed him that they should call upon him the following day,
+when the two portraits would be presented, in his study, to the
+persons for whom they were designed. The artist was enjoined to place
+them on two separate easels,&mdash;that of the actress to stand nearest the
+door of the studio, and both to be concealed by a curtain until the
+ladies should give the signal for their exposure. The portrait of the
+English lady, we will here remark, had, by her request, been hitherto
+seen only by the artist. There was a mystery in this arrangement,
+which piqued, excessively, the curiosity of the painter, and he was
+anxious to witness the <i>denouement</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The next day, at eleven o'clock, every thing was in readiness, and the
+painter awaited the solution of the mystery.</p>
+
+<p>The first person who presented himself was Sir Frederic Stanley. He
+was very radiant.</p>
+
+<p>"Congratulate me, <i>mon cher</i>," said he. "Read that."</p>
+
+<p>Ernest took an open note from his hand, and read as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p><div class="blockquot"><p>"Be at the studio of Ernest Lavalle, to-morrow, at eleven.
+You will there receive a present, which, if there be any
+truth in man's vows, will certainly delight you. </p></div>
+
+<p class="sig1">
+"Rose."
+</p>
+
+<p>The astonishment and disappointment of Ernest was at its height, when
+his door opened, and the actress entered, followed by a female,
+closely veiled.</p>
+
+<p>"You are true to your appointment, Sir Frederic," said the actress,
+gayly, "and your punctuality shall be rewarded."</p>
+
+<p>She advanced to the farther easel, and, lifting the curtain, disclosed
+the features of the English lady.</p>
+
+<p>"This is for you!" she said, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"My wife! by all that's wonderful!" exclaimed the baronet.</p>
+
+<p>"Accompanied by the original!" said Lady Stanley, as she unveiled and
+advanced. "Sir Frederic! Sir Frederic! when you were amusing yourself,
+by paying unmeaning attentions to this young lady, I am afraid you
+forgot to tell her that you had a wife in England."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought it unnecessary," stammered the baronet.</p>
+
+<p>"How could you disturb the peace of mind of a young girl, when you
+knew you could not requite her affection?" continued Lady Stanley.</p>
+
+<p>"It was only a flirtation, to pass the time," said Sir Frederic; "but
+I acknowledge it was culpable. My dear Emeline, I thank you for your
+present. I shall ever cherish it as my dearest possession&mdash;next to
+yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"For you, sir," said the beautiful actress, turning to Ernest, "I
+cannot think of depriving you of your best effort. Take the portrait.
+I wish the subject were worthier." And she withdrew the curtain from
+her picture.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I am ungrateful," said Ernest, in a low and tremulous tone. "Much as
+I prize the picture, I can never be happy without the original."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it so?" replied the actress, in the same low tone of emotion;
+then, placing her hand timidly in his, she added, "The original is
+yours!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="UNCLE_OBED" id="UNCLE_OBED"></a>UNCLE OBED.</h2>
+
+<h3>A FULL LENGTH PORTRAIT IN PEN AND INK.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Uncle Obed&mdash;we omit his family name for various reasons&mdash;lived away
+down east, in a small but flourishing village, where he occupied a
+snug house, and what with a little farming, a little fishing, a little
+hunting, and a little trading, contrived, not only to make both ends
+meet at the expiration of each year, but accumulated quite a little
+property.</p>
+
+<p>In personal appearance he was small, but muscular and wiry. He was far
+from handsome; a pug nose, set between a pair of gooseberry eyes, a
+long, straight mouth, a head of hair in which sandy red and iron gray
+were mixed together, did not give him a very fascinating aspect. He
+rarely smiled, but when he did, his smile was expressive of the
+deepest cunning.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Obed had one grievous fault&mdash;an unhappy propensity for acquiring
+the property of others&mdash;"a natural proclivity," as General Pillow
+says, to stealing. The Spartans thought there was no harm in
+stealing&mdash;in fact that it was rather meritorious than otherwise,
+providing that it was never found out; and both in theory and
+practice, Uncle Obed was a thorough Spartan. A few of his exploits in
+this way will serve to show his extraordinary 'cuteness.</p>
+
+<p>A neighbor of his had a black heifer with a white face,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> which
+occasionally made irruptions into Uncle Obed's pasturage. One evening,
+Obed made a seizure of her, and tied her up in his barn. He then went
+to the owner of the animal.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Stagg," said he, "there's been a cantankerous heifer a breaking
+into my lot, and I've been a lookin' for her, and I've cotched her at
+last."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said the unconscious Mr. Stagg, "I 'spose you're going to
+drive her to the pound."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I ain't," answered Uncle Obed, with the smile we have alluded to,
+"I know a trick worth two of that. I'm going to kill her; and if you
+won't say nothing to nobody, but'll come up to-night and help me, you
+shall hev the horns and hide for your trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"Done," said Mr. Stagg. "I'll come."</p>
+
+<p>In the mean time, Uncle Obed took a pot of black paint, and covered
+the white face of the heifer, so as to prevent recognition. The
+neighbor came up at night, and helped despatch his own "critter,"
+receiving the horns and hide for his pay, and laughing with Obed to
+think how cleverly the owner had been "done."</p>
+
+<p>The next day he missed his heifer, and called on Obed to ask if he had
+seen her.</p>
+
+<p>"I hain't seen her to-day," replied Uncle Obed, "but if you'll go to
+the tannery, where you sold that hide, and 'll just take the trouble
+to overhaul it, Mr. Stagg, prehaps you'll find out where your heifer
+is."</p>
+
+<p><i>Pre</i>haps he did.</p>
+
+<p>On another occasion Uncle Obed appropriated&mdash;we scorn to charge him
+with stealing&mdash;a cow which had had the misfortune to lose her tail.
+Stepping into a tannery, he cut off a tail, and sewed it on to the
+fragment which yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> decorated the hind quarters of the stolen animal.
+He then drove her along towards the next market, and having to cross a
+ferry, had just got on board the boat with his booty, when down came
+the owner of the missing cow, "bloody with spurring, fiery red with
+haste," and took passage on the same boat.</p>
+
+<p>He eyed his cow very sharply, while Uncle Obed stood quietly by,
+watching the result of the investigation.</p>
+
+<p>"That's a pretty good cow, ain't it?" said Uncle Obed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied the owner, "and if her tail was cut off, I could swear
+it was mine."</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Obed quietly took his knife out of his pocket, and cutting the
+tail short off <i>above</i> where the false one was joined on, threw it
+into the river.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, neighbor," said he, triumphantly, "can you swear that's your
+cow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not," said the owner. "But they look very much alike."</p>
+
+<p>After stealing something or other, we forget what, Uncle Obed was
+observed, and the sheriff was sent in pursuit of him, in hot haste,
+mounted on a fine and very fast horse. After a hard run, Uncle Obed
+halted at the edge of a rough piece of ground, pulled off his coat,
+and pulled down about a rod of stone wall, then quietly went to work
+building it up again, as if that was his regular occupation.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the sheriff came riding up on the spur, and reining in,
+asked Obed if he had seen a fellow running for his life.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Obed, "I see him jest now streakin' it like a quarter hoss
+in <i>that</i> direction," pointing off. "But he was pretty nigh blown, and
+I 'xpect you can catch him in about two minnits."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, just hold my horse," said the sheriff, "and I'll overhaul him."</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff scrambled over the stones and through the bushes in the
+direction indicated, and the moment he was out of sight, Uncle Obed
+jumped on the horse and rode off at the top of his speed. He rode his
+prize to a town a good ways off, and sold the horse for a hundred and
+fifty dollars.</p>
+
+<p>For some similar exploit, he was arrested and committed to jail in
+Essex county, to await his trial. But the prison being then in a
+process of repair, Uncle Obed, with other victims of the law, was
+incarcerated in the fort in Salem harbor. He made his escape, however,
+by crawling through the sewer, as Jack Sheppard did from Newgate
+prison. The sentinel on duty saw a mass of seaweed floating on the
+surface of the water. Now, this was nothing extraordinary, but it
+<i>was</i> extraordinary for seaweed to float <i>against</i> the tide. Uncle
+Obed's head was in that floating mass. He was hailed and ordered to
+swim back. He made no answer. A volley of musketry was discharged at
+him, but no boat being very handy, he got off and made his escape,
+very much after the manner of Rob Roy at the ford of Avondow.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Obed had a famous black Newfoundland dog, worth from sixty to
+eighty dollars. When hard up, he used to take the dog about fifty or a
+hundred miles from home, where he was unknown, and sell him. No matter
+what the distance was, the dog always came back to his old master, who
+realized several hundred dollars by the repeated sales of him.</p>
+
+<p>Such were a few of the exploits of this departed worthy, actually
+vouched for by contemporaries. His passion for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> stealing was
+undoubtedly a monomania, for he was known in many cases to make
+voluntary restitution of articles that he had purloined, and his
+circumstances did not allow him the plea of necessity which palliates
+the errors of desperately poor rogues in every eye except that of the
+law.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_CASKET_OF_JEWELS" id="THE_CASKET_OF_JEWELS"></a>THE CASKET OF JEWELS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Luke Brandon was a Wall Street broker, of moderate business
+capacity, little education, and of plain manners, partaking of the
+rustic simplicity of his original employment&mdash;he was, in early life, a
+farmer in one of the western counties of New York. With less talent
+and more cunning, he might have become a very rich man, at short
+notice; but being brought up in an old-fashioned school of morality,
+he could never learn to dignify swindling by the epithet of smartness,
+nor consider overreaching his neighbor a "fair business transaction."
+Hence he plodded along the even tenor of his way, contented with
+moderate profits, and satisfied with the prospect of becoming
+independent by slow degrees.</p>
+
+<p>But in an evil hour, during a fortnight's relaxation at the Catskill
+Mountain House, this steady and respectable gentleman, at the mature
+age of thirty-five, quite an old bachelor indeed, fell desperately in
+love with a dashing girl of twenty, the orphan daughter of a bankrupt
+ship chandler. Miss Maria Manners was highly educated; that is, she
+could write short notes on perfumed billet paper, without making any
+orthographical or grammatical mistakes, had taken three quarters'
+lessons of a French barber, could work worsted lapdogs and embroider
+slippers, danced like a sylph, and played on the piano indifferently
+well. She had visited the Catskills on a matrimonial specu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>lation, and
+made a dead set at poor Brandon. Of course with his experience in the
+ways of women, he fell a ready dupe to the fascinating wiles of Miss
+Manners. She kept him in an agony of suspense for a week, during every
+evening of which she waltzed with a young lieutenant of dragoons, who
+was playing billiards and drinking champagne on a sick leave, until
+she could hear from a fabulous guardian at Philadelphia, and obtain
+his consent to a sacrifice of her brilliant prospects&mdash;nothing a year
+and a very suspicious account at a fashionable milliner's.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brandon went down to the city, purchased a snug house, furnished
+it modestly, gave a liberal order on his tailor, and one memorable
+morning, might have been seen looking very uncomfortable, in a white
+satin stock and kids, beside a lady elegantly dressed in satin and
+blonde lace, while a portly clergyman pronounced his sentence in the
+shape of a marriage benediction.</p>
+
+<p>There was a snug wedding breakfast in the new house, at which were
+present several eminent apple speculators from Fulton market, two or
+three bank clerks, and a reporter for a weekly newspaper, who consumed
+a ruinous amount of sandwiches and bottled ale.</p>
+
+<p>Before the honeymoon was over, the bride began to display some of the
+less amiable features of her character. She sneered at the situation
+and simplicity of the establishment, and protested she was
+unaccustomed to that sort of style. She was perfectly sincere in this,
+for the defunct ship chandler had lived in a basement and two attic
+chambers.</p>
+
+<p>By dint of repeated persecutions, she induced her husband to move into
+a larger house; and finally, after the expiration of many years, we
+find them established in the upper part of the city, in a splendid
+mansion, looking out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> upon a fashionable square, with a little marble
+boy in front sitting on a brick, and spouting a stream of Croton
+through a clam shell.</p>
+
+<p>One morning, Mr. Brandon came home about eleven o'clock. On entering
+his front door, he beheld, lounging on a sofa, with the <i>Courrier des
+Etats Unis</i> in his hand, Claude, the handsome French page of Mrs. B.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Mrs. B.?" asked the elderly broker.</p>
+
+<p>"Madame is in her boudoir," replied the page; "but," he added, seeing
+his master move in that direction, "I do not know whether she is
+visible."</p>
+
+<p>"That I will ascertain myself, young gentleman," replied the broker,
+with a slight shade of irony in his tone. "But tell me, is there any
+one with her?"</p>
+
+<p>"Only M. Auguste Charmant," said the page.</p>
+
+<p>"That confounded Frenchman!" muttered the plebeian broker. "My Yankee
+house is turned topsyturvy by these foreigners. There's a French cook,
+and a French chambermaid, and the friend of the family is a Frenchman.
+I don't know what I'm eating, and I hardly understand a word that's
+said at my table. Sometimes, by way of change, they talk Italian
+instead of French. One might as well associate with a stack of
+monkeys. Out of the way, jackanapes."</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur," said the page, with true Gallic dignity, "I was about to
+proceed to announce monsieur."</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur can announce himself," replied Brandon, with the grin of a
+hyena; and proceeding up stairs, he entered the boudoir without
+knocking.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brandon was lounging on a <i>fauteuil</i>, in an elegant morning
+toilet&mdash;literally plunged and embowered in costly Brussels lace. Her
+delicate, bejewelled fingers were playing with the petals of an
+exquisite bouquet. Thanks to a good constitution, a life of ease, an
+accomplished milliner<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> and an incomparable dentist, the fair Maria,
+though the mother of a marriageable girl, was still a lovely and
+fascinating woman, and Brandon, as he gazed on her superb figure,
+almost forgave her absurd ambition and her ruinous extravagance.
+Still, when he glanced at his own anxious, emaciated, and careworn
+features, in the splendid Versailles mirror that hung opposite, his
+transitory pleasure gave way to stern and bitter feelings. He merely
+nodded to his wife, and bowed coldly to her companion, a young man
+attired in the height of fashion, with dark eyes and hair, and the
+most superb mustache imaginable.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! my dear Meestare Brandon," said the dandy, "give me your hand. I
+congratulate you on such a <i>bonne fortune</i>&mdash;such good luck as has
+befallen you."</p>
+
+<p>"Explain yourself, sir," said the broker.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Avec plaisir.</i> I have secured for you a box at the opera for the
+whole season&mdash;and for only five hundred dollars."</p>
+
+<p>The broker whistled.</p>
+
+<p>"Really nothing," said Mrs. Brandon; "only think&mdash;the best troupe we
+have yet had&mdash;a new <i>prima donna</i> and a new <i>basso</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Fiddlestick!" said the matter-of-fact husband. "What does it amount
+to?"</p>
+
+<p>"Brandon," said the lady with a true maternal dignity, "reflect upon
+the importance of the opera to the education of your daughter."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" said the broker, angrily. "My daughter Julia would please
+me much better if she cultivated a little common sense, and adopted
+the plain, republican manners fitted to the eventualities of her
+future life, instead of aping foreign fashions, and doing her best to
+denationalize her character."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Monsieur Auguste Charmant shrugged his shoulders, Mrs. Brandon clasped
+her hands, and the former, rising said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Au revoir</i>, madame, <i>au plaisir</i>, Monsieur Brandon. I will bid you
+good morning, and leave you to the pleasures of a conjugal
+<i>t&ecirc;te-a-t&ecirc;te</i>."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brandon rose and paced the room to and fro for several minutes
+after the departure of the Frenchman, narrowly eyed by Mrs. Brandon,
+who was anticipating a "scene," and preparing to meet it. In these
+contests the victory generally rested with the lady. The broker
+finally opened the door, and finding the page with ear glued against
+the keyhole, quietly took that young gentleman by the lobe of his left
+ear, and leading him to the head of the staircase, advised him, as a
+friend, to descend it as speedily as possible, before his gravitation
+was assisted by the application of an extraneous power. This
+accomplished, he returned to the boudoir, and locking the door, sat
+down beside his wife. The latter playfully tapped his cheek with her
+bouquet, but the broker took no notice of the coquettish action, and
+gloomily contemplating his gaiters, as if afraid to trust his eyes
+with the siren glances of his partner, commenced:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. B., I want to have some serious talk with you."</p>
+
+<p>"You never have any other kind of small talk," retorted the lady. "You
+have a rare gift at sermonizing."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brandon passed over the sneer, and continued:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"You alluded just now to Julia; it is of her I wish to speak. Let me
+remind you of her future prospects, and ask you whether it be not time
+to change your system of educating her, and prepare her for a change
+of life. You will remember then, that, two years ago, with the
+consent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> of all parties, she was engaged to Arthur Merton, a very
+promising young dry goods merchant of Boston."</p>
+
+<p>"Only a retail merchant," said Mrs. Brandon.</p>
+
+<p>"A promising young merchant, the son of my old friend Jasper Merton.
+It was agreed between us that I should bestow ten thousand dollars on
+my daughter, and Merton an equal sum upon his son. In case of the
+failure of either party to fulfil the engagement, the father of the
+party was to forfeit to the aggrieved person the sum of ten thousand
+dollars. This very week, I expect my old friend and his son to ratify
+the contract. You know with what difficulty, owing to the enormous
+expenses of our mode of life, I have laid aside the stipulated sum;
+for in your hands, the hands of the mother of my child, I have lodged
+this sacred deposit."</p>
+
+<p>"Very true," said the lady, "and it is now in my secretary, under lock
+and key. But what an odious arrangement! How the contract and the
+forfeit smell of the shop!"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't despise the smell of the shop, Maria," said the broker, smiling
+gravely, "it is the smell of the shop that perfumes the boudoir."</p>
+
+<p>"And then Arthur Merton is such a shocking person," continued the
+lady; "really, no manners."</p>
+
+<p>"To my mind, Maria," said the broker, "his manners, plain, open, and
+frank, are infinitely superior to those of the French butterfly who is
+always fluttering at your elbow."</p>
+
+<p>"And if he is always fluttering at my elbow," retorted the lady, "it
+is because you are always away."</p>
+
+<p>"That is because I always have business," said the broker. "If we
+lived in less style, I should have more leisure. Ah! Maria! Maria! I
+fear that we are driving on too<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> recklessly; the day of reckoning will
+come&mdash;we seem to be sailing prosperously now, but a shipwreck may
+terminate the voyage."</p>
+
+<p>"Not while I have the helm," said the lady. "Listen to me, Brandon.
+You know little of the philosophy of life. To command success, we must
+seem to have obtained it. To be rich, we must seem so. You have done
+well to follow my advice in one particular. You have taken a very
+prominent part in the present presidential canvass. There cannot fail
+to be a change of administration, and while you have been making
+yourself conspicuous in public, I have been electioneering for you in
+private. I have been feasting and petting the men who hold the winning
+cards in their hands. It is not for mere ostentation that I have
+invited to my <i>soir&eacute;es</i>, the Hon. Mr. A., and Judge B., and Counsellor
+C."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see what you're driving at," said the broker.</p>
+
+<p>"O, of course not. But when you find yourself a <i>millionnaire</i>, and
+all by the scheming of your wife, perhaps, B., you'd think there was
+some wisdom in what you are pleased to call my fashionable follies.
+But to make the matter plain&mdash;a change of administration occurs&mdash;you
+are the confidential friend of the secretary of the treasury&mdash;your
+talents as a financier are duly recognized&mdash;you have the management of
+the most important loans and contracts&mdash;you have four years, perhaps
+eight, to flourish in, and your fortune is made."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" said the broker, doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"If such success attends you, and there can be no doubt of it, how
+painful would be your reflections, if you thought that you had
+sacrificed your daughter's future in an alliance with a petty trader.
+I have arranged a brighter destiny for her&mdash;a marriage with a foreign
+nobleman."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'd rather see her the wife of a Yankee peddler."</p>
+
+<p>"Out upon you!" cried the lady. "I tell you, your opposition will have
+little weight, Mr. B. Come to my <i>soir&eacute;e</i> this evening, and I will
+present you to Count Alfred de Roseville, an exile from France for
+political offences&mdash;only think, B., he was the intimate friend of
+Henry V."</p>
+
+<p>"And who vouches for this paragon?"</p>
+
+<p>"Our friend, Auguste."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Your</i> friend, Auguste, you mean."</p>
+
+<p>"I mean M. Charmant, the friend of the family."</p>
+
+<p>"And what does Julia think of this Ph&oelig;nix?"</p>
+
+<p>"She adores him."</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! how her gentleness of nature must have been perverted! Well,
+well, Maria, in spite of myself, I cannot resolve to humble your
+pride, or thwart your schemes. I believe you love me and your
+daughter. Yet you are playing a desperate game&mdash;remember, our all is
+staked upon the issue."</p>
+
+<p>"And I'll await the hazard of the die," replied Mrs. B., as she kissed
+her husband fondly, and dismissed him with a wave of the hand.</p>
+
+<p>When Brandon came down into the hall, he was thunder-struck at meeting
+there three persons, whose appearance, after what had just passed up
+stairs in the boudoir, might well be considered inopportune. The first
+was uncle Richard Watkins, a relative of Mr. Brandon's, who resided in
+the country, and had become immensely rich by land speculations, and
+the others were Mr. Merton and his son. A pile of baggage announced
+that they were not mere callers.</p>
+
+<p>"Give us your hand, Luke," said uncle Richard, extending his enormous
+brown palm, "you ain't glad to see me, nor nothin', be you? Brought my
+trunk, valise, carpet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> bag, and hatbox, and cal'late to spend six
+weeks here. How's the old woman and the gal&mdash;pretty smart? Well,
+that's hearty."</p>
+
+<p>The broker shook the old man by the hand, and then turned to welcome
+with the best grace he could his friend Merton, and his proposed
+son-in-law.</p>
+
+<p>"You know what <i>we've</i> come for," said the elder Merton, with a sly
+wink.</p>
+
+<p>"Pray walk into the drawing room," said the broker, and 'on hospitable
+thoughts intent,' he threw wide the door, and the party entered.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! unlucky Brandon! why didst thou not summon the French page to
+announce thy guests? Thou hadst then been spared a scene that might
+have figured in a comedy, and came near furnishing material for a
+tragedy.</p>
+
+<p>An elegant young man was kneeling at the feet of an elegant young
+lady. The former was Count Alfred de Roseville, the latter Miss Julia
+Brandon. The count started to his feet, the young lady blushed and
+shrieked. The count was the first to recover his voice and
+self-possession. Rushing to the broker, he exclaimed in broken
+English,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"O, my dear monsieur, how I moost glad to see you&mdash;your daughter&mdash;Mees
+Julie&mdash;she 'ave say&mdash;yais&mdash;yais&mdash;yais&mdash;to my ardent love suit&mdash;and now
+I have the honneur to salute her respectable papa."</p>
+
+<p>"O, father," said the terrified girl, "it was with mother's knowledge
+and consent."</p>
+
+<p>Brandon could not speak a word.</p>
+
+<p>"This lady, sir," said Merton, fiercely, advancing to the count, "is
+my affianced bride."</p>
+
+<p>"Your bride&mdash;eh?" cried the count, "when she has just come to
+say&mdash;yais&mdash;to my ardent love suit!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What does the gal say? what does the gal say?" asked uncle Richard,
+interposing.</p>
+
+<p>"Speak, Julia," said her father, sternly, "and weigh well your words.
+I will not force you to fulfil a contract against your will&mdash;the
+penalty and contingency of such a refusal have been provided for&mdash;but
+pause before you reject the son of my old friend for a foreigner&mdash;a
+man with whom you can have had but a few days' acquaintance."</p>
+
+<p>Julia averted her eyes, and blushed scarlet, but placed her hand in
+that of the count just as her mother entered the apartment.</p>
+
+<p>"Enough," said young Merton, "I am satisfied. Come, father, let us
+retire&mdash;our presence here is only a burden. O, Julia!" he added, in a
+tone of deep feeling, "little did I expect this at your hands. I have
+looked forward to this meeting with the fondest hope. It is
+past&mdash;farewell&mdash;may you be happy."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be very happy to see you again&mdash;nevair!" said the count.</p>
+
+<p>"O, as to that," said young Merton, approaching him, and addressing
+him in a low tone, "I think <i>you</i>, at least, have not seen the last of
+me, monsieur. At any rate, you shall hear from me soon."</p>
+
+<p>"I 'ave not nozzin to do nor not to say viz <i>canaille</i>," said the
+count.</p>
+
+<p>"Then, perhaps, it will be more agreeable to you, sir, to be
+horsewhipped in Broadway," said Merton.</p>
+
+<p>"Me! horsevhip! me! the friend of Henri V.! horreur!" cried the count.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, monsieur, I have presented the alternative. Where may you
+be found?"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>H&ocirc;tel de Ville</i>&mdash;City Hotel."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Au plaisir</i>, then <i>Count</i> Alfred de Roseville," said Mer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>ton,
+glancing at the card the Frenchman handed him. "Come, father."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Brandon, I shall wait on you at your counting room in the course
+of the forenoon," said Mr. Merton, senior; "we have an account to
+settle together."</p>
+
+<p>And the father and son bowed themselves out of the room. Julia was so
+much agitated at the events which had just transpired, that she was
+compelled to retire to her room. Uncle Richard and Mr. and Mrs.
+Brandon remained upon the field of battle.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Maria," said the broker, "the first act of the comedy has been
+played, in which you have assigned me a very insignificant and
+low-comedy part, but I don't think either of us has made a very
+distinguished figure in it. I hope the last act will redeem the
+first."</p>
+
+<p>The lady reddened, but made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Let us foot up the column to see what amount is to be carried
+forward," continued the broker. "Here's an old friendship dissolved&mdash;a
+worthy young man broken hearted&mdash;a suspicious suitor introduced into
+my family, and ten thousand dollars to be paid on demand. A very
+pretty morning's work."</p>
+
+<p>"It will come out right," said Mrs. Brandon.</p>
+
+<p>"As the boy remarked when he was gored by the cow's horn," observed
+uncle Richard, philosophically, as he extended his length upon an
+ottoman, including his boots in the enjoyment of the comfort of cut
+velvet.</p>
+
+<p>"I leave uncle Richard to your care, madam," said the broker, "while I
+go down in town to ascertain the value of my new son-in-law's paper
+upon 'change."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>On an evening not long after the above scenes, the broker's house was
+brilliantly lighted up from basement to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> attic. Through the open hall
+door, at the head of the flight of marble steps, servants in livery
+were seen receiving the shawls and hats of the guests, as carriage
+after carriage deposited its brilliant contents at the house of the
+financier. Mingled with the black coats of the gentlemen, and the
+gossamer attire of the ladies, were seen the brilliant uniforms of
+officers of the army and navy. The crowd poured into the magnificent
+ball room, where, flanked by her husband, and by the indefatigable
+Monsieur Charmant, the lovely hostess received her guests with an
+elegance of manner truly aristocratic. The delicious waltzes of
+Strauss, performed by a German band, floated through the magnificent
+rooms. Glistening chandeliers poured down a flood of soft light on the
+fair faces and the polished ivory shoulders of the ladies. It was a
+scene of enchantment, and Mrs. Brandon revelled in the splendor that
+surrounded her and the incense that was offered. She was pleased at
+the distinguished appearance of her husband, pleased to see her
+daughter hanging on the arm of the French count, pleased at every
+thing but one. One object alone, like the black mask at the bridal of
+Hernani, marred the festivity, and created a discord in the midst of
+the harmony&mdash;that was uncle Richard, walking up and down the ball room
+in a meal-colored coat and cowhide boots.</p>
+
+<p>Various efforts were made to get possession of uncle Richard and lead
+him away into captivity. A whist table was suggested in an anteroom,
+an Havana was proposed in the library, but he "didn't want to play
+cards, and had just quit smoking," and so he paraded his coat and
+boots before the company, the "observed of all observers."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. B. made the best of it, whispering confidentially that he was a
+distant connection, immensely rich, partially insane, but perfectly
+harmless. O, how dazzling was Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> Brandon that evening, in the
+beauty of her person and of her attire! She wore diamonds that were
+valued at ten thousand dollars.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of the brilliant festivities, Mr. Brandon was suddenly
+summoned from the ball room. He presently returned, looking very pale,
+and beckoned his wife, who followed him into the library. Mr. Merton,
+senior, was there, with a very stern expression on his countenance.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Brandon.</p>
+
+<p>"The matter," said her husband, "is simply this&mdash;Mr. Merton leaves
+town to-night for Philadelphia, on special business, and having
+occasion for a large sum of money, requires the immediate payment of
+the ten thousand dollars which are due him for our violation of the
+marriage contract."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, madam," said Mr. Merton, "and I called on your husband for it,
+and he referred me to you as having the deposit in your possession."</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't to-morrow do as well?" asked the lady anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"No, madam, my necessity is urgent."</p>
+
+<p>"Go, Maria," said the broker, "and bring the money instantly. A debt
+like this admits of no postponement."</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! alas!" stammered the poor woman, "I have not this money by me.
+Surely, Mr. Brandon, you must be able to command it."</p>
+
+<p>"Not one dollar, madam," said the broker. "I would have spared you
+this explanation to-night, but you have brought it on yourself. This
+is our last night of factitious splendor&mdash;my affairs are in
+inextricable confusion&mdash;losses have this day come to light which
+complete my ruin&mdash;and to-morrow the world will know me as a bankrupt."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Brandon wrung her hands and sobbed bitterly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But that is a grief for to-morrow," said the broker, sternly. "There
+is music and dancing, champagne and flowers, in the next room&mdash;enough
+glory for to-night. But this business of Mr. Merton's requires instant
+attention. What have you done with the ten thousand dollars? Have you
+dared to squander it?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," said Mrs. Brandon earnestly. "I am not so bad as that. I
+deposited it with Sandford, the jeweller, of whom I hired the casket
+of jewels to deck myself to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Merton," said the broker, calmly, "I shall have to trouble your
+patience a little while longer. I will write instantly to Mr.
+Sandford, late as it is, and bid him bring the money here at once."</p>
+
+<p>After despatching the note, Brandon and his wife returned to the ball
+room. O, how insipid to the lady's ear seemed now the babble of her
+guests! The flowers had lost their perfume&mdash;the music its divine
+influence. Yet, with the serpent of remorse and anguish gnawing at her
+heart, she was forced to smile and seem happy and at ease. A half hour
+passed in this way seemed an age of torture; and when the messenger
+despatched by her husband had returned and summoned them again to the
+library, it gave her inexpressible relief.</p>
+
+<p>"O, Mr. Sandford!" she exclaimed to the jeweller, who was now added to
+the party, "how happy I am to see you! There is your casket&mdash;and here
+are your diamonds!" and she tore the jewels from her neck, ears, and
+wrists, and offered them to the jeweller.</p>
+
+<p>"Madam," said the jeweller, gravely, after having examined the gems,
+"these are not the articles I furnished you. I lent you a set of
+diamonds&mdash;these are paste!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What is the meaning of this?" asked the broker sternly.</p>
+
+<p>"I know not. I cannot explain. O, Luke! Luke! I am innocent!" and Mrs.
+Brandon sunk fainting into a chair.</p>
+
+<p>When she had recovered her senses, Mr. Brandon asked,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Did you make this arrangement in person?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," she replied; "it was through the mediation of Mr. Charmant."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's send for him," said Merton.</p>
+
+<p>"Stay," said the broker; "an idea has occurred to me. I have observed
+at times that this Monsieur Charmant had a good deal to say to your
+French page, my good lady."</p>
+
+<p>"It was he that recommended Claude," said Mrs. Brandon.</p>
+
+<p>"Then we will have Claude before us," said the broker.</p>
+
+<p>Claude soon made his appearance.</p>
+
+<p>"Claude," said Mrs. Brandon, "do you know any thing about this casket
+of jewels?"</p>
+
+<p>The boy changed color, but shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, my Christian friend," said the broker, "you need not tell us
+what you know about the jewels, if you are unwilling; but in case of
+your refusal, I shall send for a police officer, who will,
+undoubtedly, drum the whole affair out of you."</p>
+
+<p>The threat had the desired effect. The boy confessed that Charmant and
+De Roseville were impostors&mdash;that they were not even Frenchmen, but a
+brace of London thieves, who had picked up a knowledge of French
+during a professional tour on the continent, and who had emigrated to
+America for the purpose of introducing their art among our
+unsophisticated countrymen. Charmant had been a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> jeweller, and this
+enabled him to counterfeit the gems obtained of Mr. Sandford, which he
+purposed disposing of at the first favorable opportunity. The boy
+believed that Charmant had them about him at that moment. In England,
+Charmant was known as French Jack, and Roseville as Rusty Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Go back to the ball room," said Mr. Merton to Brandon, "and take your
+wife with you. Mr. Sandford, you stay by the boy. I'll go for an
+officer."</p>
+
+<p>Brandon and his lady returned to the ball room, the latter somewhat
+relieved, but mortified at the deceptions which had been practised on
+her.</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes a burly member of the police, with a very thick
+stick, and a very red handkerchief knotted round his neck, made his
+appearance, to the astonishment and consternation of the guests, amid
+whom the host and hostess alone testified no excitement or alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"Sarvant, ladies and gentlemen, sarvant," said the legal functionary,
+scraping his right boot, and plucking desperately at the brim of his
+hat. "Don't let me interrupt yer innercent amusement&mdash;sorry to
+intrude, as the bull said when he rushed into the china shop&mdash;but
+business before pleasure&mdash;now then, my hearty! how are you?"</p>
+
+<p>The last words were accompanied by a vigorous blow on the shoulder of
+M. Auguste Charmant, who was at that moment paying his attentions to a
+belle from Union Square.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Monsieur me parle-t-il</i>?" exclaimed the dandy, with well-feigned
+astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"O, nix the lingo, French Jack," said the officer, "or leastways
+patter Romany so's a cove can understand you. Fork over them are
+dimonds&mdash;or else it will go harder with you. The boy's peached, and
+the game's up&mdash;you were spotted long ago."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>With a smothered curse, French Jack dived his hand into his vest
+pocket and produced the stolen jewels. While this was enacting, the
+count had been quietly stealing to the door, but the vigilant officer
+had an eye upon his movements, and a hand upon his shoulder before he
+could escape.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I've got the pair of you," said the worthy man, chuckling
+apoplectically in the folds of his red handkerchief. "Now, don't ride
+rusty, Joe&mdash;for there's a small few of us outside with amazin' thick
+sticks, that might fall on your head and hurt you, if so be you
+happened to be rambustical."</p>
+
+<p>"Curse the luck!" muttered the thief, as with his companion he marched
+off.</p>
+
+<p>It may well be imagined that the scene dispersed the party in a hurry.
+They took French leave, like birds scattered by a sudden storm. Julia
+was carried to bed in hysterics, accompanied by her mother. Merton and
+the jeweller had disappeared, the three rogues had been taken into
+custody, and only Brandon and uncle Richard</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i9">&mdash;&mdash;"trod alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The banquet hall deserted."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"Well, uncle," said the broker, bitterly, "the game's up. I have been
+ruined, stock and fluke, by letting my wife have her own way, and
+to-morrow I shall be a bankrupt."</p>
+
+<p>"No you won't," said uncle Richard.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes I shall," said the broker, angrily. "And Julia, abandoned by her
+lover, will be broken hearted."</p>
+
+<p>"No she won't," said uncle Richard.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's to prevent it?" asked the broker.</p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Richard," replied that personage. "What's the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> use of a friend,
+unless he's a friend in need. I've got plenty of money, and neither
+chick nor child in the world. I'll meet your liabilities with cash.
+Young Merton loves Julia in spite of her temporary alienation&mdash;he will
+gladly take her back. The rogues will get their deserts. Your wife,
+sick and ashamed of her fashionable follies, will gladly gin' up this
+house and the servants. You'll buy a little country seat on the
+Hudson, and I'll come and live with you."</p>
+
+<p>As every thing turned out exactly as uncle Richard promised and
+predicted, we have no occasion to enlarge on the fortunate subsiding
+of this "sea of troubles."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="ACTING_CHARADES" id="ACTING_CHARADES"></a>ACTING CHARADES.</h2>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>But, masters, remember that I am an ass; though it be not
+written down, yet forget not that I am an
+ass.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Shakspeare</span>, <i>Much Ado about Nothing.</i> </p></div>
+
+
+<p>Many of our readers have doubtless witnessed, or perchance
+participated in, the amusement of acting charades&mdash;a divertisement
+much in vogue in social circles, and if cleverly done, productive of
+much mirth. To the uninitiated, a brief description of an acted
+charade may not be unacceptable. A word of two or more syllables is
+selected, each part of which must make sense by itself&mdash;as, for
+instance, the word inspector, which would be decomposed, thus; <i>inn
+spectre</i>. The company of performers would then extemporize a scene at
+a public house, leaving the spectators to guess at the first syllable,
+<i>inn</i>. The second scene would represent the terror occasioned by the
+apparition of a phantom, and give the second part of the word spectre.
+The third scene would represent the whole word, and would perhaps be a
+brigade inspector reviewing his troops, giving occasion for the humors
+of a Yankee militia training. Much ingenuity is required in the
+selection of a word, and in carrying out the representation, with
+appropriate dialogue, &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>Acting charades generally turns a house topsy turvy; wardrobes and
+garrets are ransacked for costumes and properties; hats, canes,
+umbrellas, and firearms are mus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>tered, and old dresses that haven't
+seen the light for forty years are rummaged out as disguises for the
+actors in these extempore theatricals.</p>
+
+<p>In a certain circle in this city there was a knot of clever young
+people, of both sexes, strongly addicted to acting charades, and very
+happy in their execution. But they were unfortunately afflicted by an
+interloper,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">"Whose head<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was not of brains particularly full,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>one of those geniuses who have a fatal facility for making blunders.
+Yet, with a pleasing unconsciousness of his deficiencies, he was
+always volunteering his services, and always expected, in this matter
+of acting charades, to be intrusted with the leading parts.</p>
+
+<p>One evening the usual coterie was assembled, charades were proposed,
+as usual, and the little knot of performers retired to the back
+drawing room, dropping the curtain behind them, and prepared for their
+performance, congratulating themselves that Mr. Blinks, the name of
+the marplot, was not on hand to spoil their sport. They selected the
+word <i>catastrophe</i>, and the curtain went up.</p>
+
+<p>A very pretty and lively young lady, who had been abroad, gave a very
+happy imitation of the almost inimitable Jenny Vertpr&eacute;, in the French
+vaudeville of the "Cat metamorphosed to a Woman," in that scene where
+she betrays her original nature. She purred, she frolicked, she
+pounced on an imaginary mouse, caught it, tossed it up in the air, and
+went through all the man&oelig;uvres of a veritable grimalkin. When the
+curtain fell, amidst roars of laughter and applause, the first
+syllable&mdash;cat&mdash;was whispered from mouth to mouth, among the audience.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the hated Blinks arrived in the green-room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What are you up to? Acting charades&mdash;eh? By Jove! I'm just in time.
+You must give me a part&mdash;can't get along without me. What's the word?"</p>
+
+<p>"No matter," said the young lady who had played the cat, with a wicked
+smile of intelligence. "Prompter, ring the curtain up. All you've got
+to do, Mr. Blinks, is to walk across the stage."</p>
+
+<p>"But where's my dress?"</p>
+
+<p>"What you have on. Appear in your own character."</p>
+
+<p>The curtain went up, and Blinks stalked across with his accustomed air
+of intolerable stupidity. Amidst smothered laughter, the audience
+guessed the second syllable of the charade&mdash;<i>ass</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The curtain went up for the third time. A group of Indian chiefs were
+located in a wigwam. A young brave entered, distinguished by the eagle
+plume and wampum belt, the bow and hatchet, and threw down at the feet
+of the eldest warrior a bundle of the scalps he had brought back from
+battle. A hum of approbation rose from the assembly. The curtain fell.
+The word <i>trophy</i> had been thus indicated. The whole word was then
+represented by an appropriate scene from the close of a popular
+tragedy, and the spectators, cheering the performance, called out
+<i>catastrophe</i> to the actors.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they made out to guess it," said Blinks, when the curtain had
+fallen, for the last time. "But now it's all over, you made one
+confounded blunder."</p>
+
+<p>"What was that?" asked the wicked young lady.</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't act the second syllable."</p>
+
+<p>"No?"</p>
+
+<p>"No! indeed!" said Blinks, with a look of intense cunning. "You had
+<i>cat</i> and <i>trophy</i>&mdash;but where was the <i>ass</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"O, indeed!" said the young lady.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You see, ladies and gentleman," said Blinks, enjoying his triumph,
+"you can't get along without me. If I'd been here in the beginning,
+you'd have had the ass."</p>
+
+<p>"We certainly should," said the young lady, winking to her companions,
+who could hardly suppress their laughter.</p>
+
+<p>"And I move we repeat this charade to-morrow night," said Blinks&mdash;"and
+mind, I'm the ass."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll get a costume and disguise myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Disguise yourself!" echoed his tormentor&mdash;"for Heaven's sake, don't
+do that&mdash;they'd never guess it."</p>
+
+<p>The next night the charade was ass-ass-in, and Blinks went on for the
+first two syllables. He was perfectly at home&mdash;"Richard himself
+again!" and the wicked young lady, in complimenting his performance,
+declared it was "<i>perfectly natural</i>."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_GREEN_CHAMBER" id="THE_GREEN_CHAMBER"></a>THE GREEN CHAMBER.</h2>
+
+
+<p>In my younger days, "ghost stories" were the most popular narratives
+extant, and the lady or gentleman who could recite the most thrilling
+adventure, involving a genuine spiritual visitant, was sure to be the
+lion or lioness of the evening party he enlivened (?) with the dismal
+details. The elder auditors never seemed particularly horrified or
+terror-stricken, however much gratified they were, but the younger
+members would drink in every word, "supping full of horrors." After
+listening to one of these authentic narratives, we used to be very
+reluctant to retire to our dormitories, and never ventured to get into
+bed till we had examined suspicious-looking closets, old wardrobes,
+and, indeed, every nook and corner that might be supposed to harbor a
+ghost or a ghoul.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately for the rising generation, these tales have gone out of
+fashion, and though some attempts to revive the taste have been
+made&mdash;as in the "Night Side of Nature"&mdash;such efforts have proved
+deplorable failures. The young people of to-day make light of ghosts.
+The spectres in the incantation scene of "Der Freyschutz" are received
+with roars of laughter, and even the statue in Don Giovanni seems
+"jolly," notwithstanding the illusive music of Mozart. We were about
+to remark that the age had outgrown superstition, but we remembered
+the Rochester knockings, and concluded to be modestly silent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>One evening, many years since&mdash;it was a blustering December
+evening&mdash;the wind howling as it dashed the old buttonwood limbs in its
+fury against the parlor windows of the country house where a few of us
+were assembled to pass the winter holidays, we gathered before a
+roaring fire of walnut and oak, which made every thing within doors as
+cheery and comfortable as all without was desolate and dreary. The
+window shutters were left unfastened, that the bright lamplight and
+ruddy firelight might stream afar upon the wintry waste, and perhaps
+guide some benighted wayfarer to a hospitable shelter.</p>
+
+<p>We shall not attempt to describe the group, as any such portrait
+painting would not be germane to the matter more immediately in hand.
+Suffice it to say, that one of the youngsters begged aunt Deborah, the
+matron of the mansion, to tell us a ghost story,&mdash;"a real ghost story,
+aunt Deborah,"&mdash;for in those days we were terribly afraid of
+counterfeits, and hated to hear a narrative where the ghost turned out
+in the end to be no ghost after all, but a mere compound of flesh and
+blood like ourselves.</p>
+
+<p>Aunt Deborah smiled at our earnestness, and tantalized our impatience
+by some of those little arts with which the practised story-teller
+enhances the value and interest of her narrative. She tapped her
+silver snuffbox, opened it deliberately, took a very delicate pinch of
+the Lundy Foot, shut the box, replaced it in her pocket, folded her
+hands before her, looked round a minute on the expectant group, and
+then began.</p>
+
+<p>I shall despair of imparting to this cold pen-and-ink record of her
+story the inimitable conversational grace with which she embellished
+it. It made an indelible impression on my memory, and if I have never
+before repeated it, it was from a lurking fear that&mdash;though the old
+lady assured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> us it was "not to be found in any book or newspaper"&mdash;it
+might have found its way into print. However, as twenty years have
+elapsed, and I have never yet met with it in type, I will venture to
+give the outlines of the narrative.</p>
+
+<p>Major Rupert Stanley, a "bold dragoon" in the service of his majesty
+George III., found himself, one dark and blustering night in autumn,
+riding towards London on the old York road. He had supped with a
+friend who lived at a village some distance off the road, and he was
+unfamiliar with the country. Though not raining, the air was damp, and
+the heavy, surcharged clouds threatened every moment to pour down
+their contents. But the major, though a young man, was an old
+campaigner; and with a warm cloak wrapped about him, and a good horse
+under him, would have cared very little for storm and darkness, had he
+felt sure of a good bed for himself, and comfortable quarters for his
+horse, when he had ridden far enough for the strength of his faithful
+animal. A good horseman cares as much for the comfort of his steed as
+for his own ease. To add to the discomfort of the evening, there was
+some chance of meeting highwaymen; but Major Stanley felt no
+uneasiness on that score, as, just before leaving his friend's house,
+he had examined his holster pistols, and freshly primed them. A brush
+with a highwayman would enhance the romance of a night journey.</p>
+
+<p>So he jogged along; but mile after mile was passed, and no twinkling
+light in the distance gave notice of the appearance of the wished-for
+inn. The major's horse began to give unmistakable evidence of
+distress&mdash;stumbling once or twice, and recovering himself with
+difficulty. At last, a dim light suddenly appeared at a turn of the
+road. The horse pricked up his ears, and trotted forward with spirit,
+soon halting beside a one-story cottage. The major was disap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>pointed,
+but he rode up to the door and rapped loudly with the but of his
+riding whip. The summons brought a sleepy cotter to the door.</p>
+
+<p>"My good friend," said the major, "can you tell me how far it is to
+the next inn?"</p>
+
+<p>"Eh! it be about zeven mile, zur," was the answer, in the broad
+Yorkshire dialect of the district.</p>
+
+<p>"Seven miles!" exclaimed the major, in a tone of deep disappointment,
+"and my horse is already blown! My good fellow, can't you put my horse
+somewhere, and give me a bed? I will pay you liberally for your
+trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"Eh! goodness zakes!" said the rustic. "I be nought but a ditcher!
+There be noa plaze to put the nag in, and there be only one room and
+one bed in the cot."</p>
+
+<p>"What <i>shall</i> I do?" cried the major, at his wits' end.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell 'ee, zur," said the rustic, scratching his head violently,
+as if to extract his ideas by the roots. "There be a voine large house
+on the road, about a moile vurther on. It's noa an inn, but the
+colonel zees company vor the vun o' the thing&mdash;'cause he loikes to zee
+company about 'un. You must 'a heard ov him&mdash;Colonel Rogers&mdash;a' used
+to be a soger once."</p>
+
+<p>"Say no more," cried the major. "I <i>have</i> heard of this hospitable
+gentleman; and his having been in the army gives me a sure claim to
+his attention. Here's a crown for your information, my good friend.
+Come, Marlborough!"</p>
+
+<p>Touching his steed with the spur, the major rode off, feeling an
+exhilaration of spirits which soon communicated itself to the horse. A
+sharp trot of a few minutes brought him to a large mansion, which
+stood unfenced, like a huge caravansery, by the roadside. He made for
+the front door and, without dismounting, plied the large brass knocker
+till a servant in livery made his appearance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Is your master up?" asked the major.</p>
+
+<p>"I am the occupant of this house," said a venerable gentleman, making
+his appearance at the hall door.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a benighted traveller, sir," said the major, touching his hat,
+"and come to claim your well-known hospitality. Can you give me a bed
+for the night? I am afraid my four-footed companion is hardly able to
+carry me to the next inn."</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot promise you a bed, sir," said the host, "for I have but one
+spare bed in the house."</p>
+
+<p>"And that&mdash;&mdash;" said the major.</p>
+
+<p>"Happens to be in a room that does not enjoy a very pleasing
+reputation. In short, sir, one room of my house is haunted; and that
+is the only one, unfortunately, that I can place at your disposal
+to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"My dear sir," said the major, springing from his horse, and tossing
+the bridle to the servant, "you enchant me beyond expression! A
+haunted chamber! The very thing&mdash;and I, who have never seen a ghost!
+What luck!"</p>
+
+<p>The host shook his head gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"I never knew a man," he said, "to pass a night in that chamber
+without regretting it."</p>
+
+<p>Major Stanley laughed as he took his pistols from the holster pipes.
+"With these friends of mine," he said, "I fear neither ghost nor
+demon."</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Rogers showed his guest into a comfortable parlor, where a
+seacoal fire was burning cheerfully in a grate, and refreshments most
+welcome to a weary traveller stood upon a table.</p>
+
+<p>"Mine host" was an old campaigner, and had seen much service during
+the war of the American revolution, and he was full of interesting
+anecdotes and descriptions of adventures. But while Major Stanley was
+apparently listening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> attentively to the narrative of his hospitable
+entertainer, throwing in the appropriate ejaculations of surprise and
+pleasure at the proper intervals, his whole attention was in reality
+absorbed by a charming girl of twenty, the daughter of the colonel,
+who graced the table with her presence. Never, he thought, had he seen
+so beautiful, so modest, and so ladylike a creature; and she, in turn,
+seemed very favorably impressed with the manly beauty and frank
+manners of their military guest.</p>
+
+<p>At length she retired. The colonel, who was a three-bottle man, and
+had found a listener to his heart, was somewhat inclined to prolong
+the session into the small hours of the morning, but finding that his
+guest was much fatigued, and even beginning to nod in the midst of his
+choicest story, he felt compelled to ask him if he would not like to
+retire. Major Stanley replied promptly in the affirmative, and the old
+gentleman, taking up a silver candlestick, ceremoniously marshalled
+his guest to a large, old-fashioned room, the walls of which being
+papered with green, gave it its appellation of the "Green Chamber." A
+comfortable bed invited to repose; a cheerful fire was blazing on the
+hearth, and every thing was cosy and quiet. The major looked round him
+with a smile of satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"I am deeply indebted to you, colonel," said he, "for affording me
+such comfortable quarters. I shall sleep like a top."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid not," answered the colonel, shaking his head gravely. "I
+never knew a guest of mine to pass a quiet night in the Green
+Chamber."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall prove an exception," said the major, smiling. "But I must
+make one remark," he added, seriously. "It is ill sporting with the
+feelings of a soldier; and should any of your servants attempt to play
+tricks upon me, they will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> have occasion to repent it." And he laid
+his heavy pistol on the lightstand by his bedside.</p>
+
+<p>"My servants, Major Stanley," said the old gentleman, with an air of
+offended dignity, "are too well drilled to dare attempt any tricks
+upon my guests. Good night, major."</p>
+
+<p>"Good night, colonel."</p>
+
+<p>The door closed. Major Stanley locked it. Having done so, he took a
+survey of the apartment. Besides the door opening into the entry,
+there was another leading to some other room. There was no lock upon
+this second door, but a heavy table, placed across, completely
+barricaded it.</p>
+
+<p>"I am safe," thought the major, "unless there is a storming party of
+ghosts to attack me in my fastness. I think I shall sleep well."</p>
+
+<p>He threw himself into an arm chair before the fire, and watching the
+glowing embers, amused himself with building castles in the air, and
+musing on the attractions of the fair Julia, his host's daughter. He
+was far enough from thinking of spectral visitants, when a very slight
+noise struck on his ear. Glancing in the direction of the inner door,
+he thought he saw the heavy table glide backwards from its place.
+Quick as thought, he caught up a pistol, and challenged the intruder.
+There was no reply&mdash;but the door continued to open, and the table to
+slide back. At last there glided into the room a tall, graceful
+figure, robed in white. At the first glance, the blood curdled in the
+major's veins; at the second, he recognized the daughter of his host.
+Her eyes were wide open, and she advanced with an assured step, but it
+was very evident she was asleep. Here was the mystery of the Green
+Chamber solved at once. The young girl walked to the fireplace and
+seated herself in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> arm chair from which the soldier had just
+risen. His first impulse was to vacate the room, and go directly and
+alarm the colonel. But, in the first place, he knew not what apartment
+his host occupied, and in the second, curiosity prompted him to watch
+the <i>d&eacute;nouement</i> of this singular scene. Julia raised her left hand,
+and gazing on a beautiful ring that adorned one of her white and taper
+fingers, pressed it repeatedly to her lips. She then sank into an
+attitude of repose, her arms drooping listlessly by her sides.</p>
+
+<p>The major approached her, and stole the ring from her finger. His
+action disturbed, but did not awaken her. She seemed to miss the ring,
+however, and, after groping hopelessly for it, rose and glided through
+the doorway as silently as she had entered. She had no sooner retired
+than the major replaced the table, and drawing a heavy clothes press
+against it, effectually guarded himself against a second intrusion.</p>
+
+<p>This done, he threw himself upon the bed, and slept soundly till a
+late hour of the morning. When he awoke, he sprang out of bed, and ran
+to the window. Every trace of the storm had passed away, and an
+unclouded sun was shining on the radiant landscape. After performing
+the duties of his toilet, he was summoned to breakfast, where he met
+the colonel and his daughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, major, and how did you pass the night?" asked the colonel,
+anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Famously," replied Stanley. "I slept like a top, as I told you I
+should."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, thank Heaven, the spell is broken at last," said the colonel,
+"and the White Phantom has ceased to haunt the Green Chamber."</p>
+
+<p>"By no means," said the major, smiling; "the White Phantom paid me a
+visit last night, and left me a token of the honor."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A token!" exclaimed the father and daughter in a breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my friends, and here it is." And the major handed the ring to
+the old gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the meaning of this, Julia?" exclaimed the colonel. "This ring
+I gave you last week!"</p>
+
+<p>Julia uttered a faint cry, and turned deadly pale.</p>
+
+<p>"The mystery is easily explained," said the major. "The young lady is
+a sleep-walker. She came into my room before I had retired, utterly
+unconscious of her actions. I took the ring from her hand, that I
+might be able to convince you and her of the reality of what I had
+witnessed."</p>
+
+<p>The major's business was not pressing, and he readily yielded to the
+colonel's urgent request to pass a few days with him. Their mutual
+liking increased upon better acquaintance, and in a few weeks the
+White Phantom's ring, inscribed with the names of Rupert Stanley and
+Julia Rogers, served as the sacred symbol of their union for life.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="HE_WASNT_A_HORSE_JOCKEY" id="HE_WASNT_A_HORSE_JOCKEY"></a>HE WASN'T A HORSE JOCKEY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was at the close of a fine, autumnal afternoon, that a
+simple-looking traveller, attired in a homespun suit of gray, and
+wearing a broad-brimmed, Quaker-looking hat, drove up to the door of
+the Spread Eagle Tavern, in the town of B&mdash;&mdash;, State of Maine, kept by
+Major E. Spike, and ordered refreshments for himself and horse. There
+was nothing particular about the traveller, except his air of
+simplicity; but his horse was a character. The animal was at least
+thirty years of age, and was as gaunt as Rosinante, and would have
+been a dear bargain at fifteen dollars. The traveller acknowledged
+that he had been taken in somewhat when he bought the animal, for he
+"wasn't a horse jockey," and "did'nt know much about critters!"
+However, he added, "that if he had good luck in his trip down east,
+[he was agent for a Hartford Life Assurance Company,] he meant to pick
+up something handsome in the way of horse flesh to take home with
+him." After communicating his name and business, and sundry other
+particulars, with a frankness which, while it satisfied the curiosity,
+excited the contempt of Major Spike, the stranger, whom we shall call
+Zebulon Smith, departed.</p>
+
+<p>He had a business call to make on the widow Stebbins, who lived about
+three miles off, in a very old, unfinished, shingled house, of immense
+extent, in the centre of an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> unfenced lot, the chief products of which
+were rocks, brambles, and barberry bushes.</p>
+
+<p>"Keep much stock, Miss Stebbins?" said he, as, having transacted his
+business, he prepared to resume his journey.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, no," said she; "I'm a lone woman, and hain't got no help; so I
+keep only a cow and that 'ere colt. I wish I could sell him, for I
+ain't got nobody to break him in properly."</p>
+
+<p>Zebulon looked at the colt. He was a limpsey, long-legged, shaggy
+animal, with a ewe-neck, drooping head, and little, undecided tail,
+completely knotted up with burs; but then he was only five years old.</p>
+
+<p>"Heow'll yeou trade, Miss Stebbins?" asked the agent. "I've a mind to
+take the critter, if you'll trade even, though I don't know the pints
+of a horse. I ain't a horse jockey. Heowever, you're a lone woman, and
+I want to oblige you. You hain't got nobody to break the colt for you,
+and here's my hoss would suit you to a T. He's a nice family hoss."</p>
+
+<p>"Heow old is he?" asked Mrs. Stebbins.</p>
+
+<p>"He's <i>risin'</i> six years," said Zebulon, and so he was.</p>
+
+<p>"He looks pretty well along," said the widow. "How much boot will you
+give me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Boot!" exclaimed Zebulon. "O, if you talk about boot, I'm off. I
+ain't no horse jockey, but I know I'm flingin' my hoss&mdash;good old
+hoss&mdash;away by tradin' even. But generosity and consideration for
+widders&mdash;specially good-lookin' ones&mdash;was allers a failin' in my
+family."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know as I had orter," said the widow, thoughtfully; "if Mr.
+Stebbins was alive, you wouldn't get the colt so cheap, for he sot
+every thing by him. He's sot his pedigree down in the births, deaths,
+and marriages, in our family Bible. He allers said, poor man, he was
+goin' to make a great hoss."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That 'ere was an optical delusion," said the agent; "he warn't never
+a goin' to make a great hoss, and he won't never be a great hoss. I
+know so much, if I ain't a horse jockey. Come, now, what say? Shall I
+ungear, and leave my critter, or put on the string and be a
+travellin'?"</p>
+
+<p>"You may have the colt," said the widow, bursting into tears, and
+retiring, unable to witness the consummation of the sacrifice.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, young Burtail," said Zebulon, addressing the colt. "It's time
+you was sot to work. I don't know whether you ever had a collar over
+your darned ewe-neck or not. I don't see how any thing short of a
+crooked-neck squash could fit it; but I'll try mine on." And with
+these words he harnessed up the colt, and leaving his old "hoss" with
+the widow, drove on his way rejoicing.</p>
+
+<p>About fifteen miles farther east, he stopped and put up at a tavern,
+where he made an arrangement to leave the colt for a week, hiring the
+landlord's horse to pursue his journey. He gave directions to have the
+colt fed high in the interim, to have his tail nicked and put in
+pulleys, his head checked up, and his coat carefully shaved according
+to the new practice. A very astute hostler promised that every thing
+should be done according to his directions, and to his perfect
+satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, in a week's time, when Zebulon came back, he hardly knew
+his bargain. The colt was fat as a hog. His sides shone like silver;
+his mane was neatly trimmed; his tail was crimped, and rose and fell
+in a graceful curve; and he carried his head as proudly as an Arabian.</p>
+
+<p>With the metamorphosed animal in the fills, the agent drove back to
+the Spread Eagle, and put up for the night. In the morning, he ordered
+his team, and paid his bill. Major Spike, who was great on horses,
+standing at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> front door, was struck with the appearance of his
+guest's "cattle."</p>
+
+<p>"Been buying a new hoss?" said the major.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I thought I'd try one, though I ain't a horse jockey," answered
+the agent, making an excuse to examine the buckles of his harness.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't want to sell him, do you?" said the major.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, no, major, I reckon not. I expect he'll suit me fust rate. I'm
+doin' pooty well, now, and can afford to hev' somethin' nice. I
+calklate to keep him."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like his color," said the major.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I do," said Zebulon, getting into his wagon. "Good mornin',
+major."</p>
+
+<p>"Hold on," said the major. "I've got a hoss I want to show you. Jake,
+bring out the bay, and let Mr. Smith have a squint at him."</p>
+
+<p>The hostler brought out a square-built, chunky, bay horse, in fine
+condition, and looking like a capital roadster.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of <i>that</i> hoss, Mr. Smith?" asked the major,
+triumphantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty fair hoss," said the agent. "But I tell you I'm no judge of
+horses; I ain't a horse jockey."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now, I tell you what," said the major; "I'm a darned fool for
+doin' of it; but when I take a fancy, I don't mind expense to gratify
+it. I'm willing to swap hosses even with you."</p>
+
+<p>"Even!" screamed the agent. "Now, major, that's a good one. I ain't a
+horse jockey. I don't know the value of the critters; but I ain't
+altogether a reg'lar, soft-headed, know-nothin' fool; and if I had a
+mind to part with this 'ere splendiferous animal, I should want boot."</p>
+
+<p>"You're a hard one," said the major; "but as fur as twenty
+dollars&mdash;&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Twenty dollars! get out," said the agent, indignantly. "G'lang, Bob!"
+and he actually started his team.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold on!" roared the major. "What do you want?"</p>
+
+<p>"Say forty, and I'll do it&mdash;no, I won't," said the agent.</p>
+
+<p>"You said you would. It's a bargain. You said forty, didn't he, Jake?"</p>
+
+<p>The hostler could not deny it.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you're the hardest customer <i>I</i> ever see!" muttered the agent,
+as he got out of the wagon. "This is the wust mornin's work I ever
+did. Let me have your old bay, and be a travellin'. You'd hev' a
+fellur's eye teeth afore he knowed it, ef you wanted 'em."</p>
+
+<p>The major chuckled as he counted out forty dollars and handed them to
+the agent. He eagerly assisted the hostler to ungear the coveted
+horse; and when the bay was harnessed up, did not urge the agent to
+stop, and the latter drove off, looking as melancholy as if he had
+buried all his relations.</p>
+
+<p>The major drove out with his new purchase that very day; but his
+performance did not equal his expectations. However, as an experienced
+horse jockey, he knew that great allowances are to be made for a green
+horse, and he promised to train him up to "2.50," at the least. But
+before one week had passed over his head, his expectations were all
+dashed. There was no "go" in the animal. His nose dropped to the
+ground, his tail slunk, and his toes dug into the gravel as if he was
+boring for water. The major had to confess that he had been completely
+taken in.</p>
+
+<p>"That infernal rascal!" said he; "I wish I could catch him here
+again."</p>
+
+<p>"You ain't very likely to," remarked Jake, the hostler, dryly.</p>
+
+<p>"Why so? Do you know any thing about him? Did you ever see him
+before?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ever see him! why, he came from the same place that I did."</p>
+
+<p>"Where's that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Meredith Bridge."</p>
+
+<p>"Meredith Bridge!" exclaimed the landlord. "And he said he wasn't a
+horse jockey. O, what an ass I was."</p>
+
+<p>"Very true," said the hostler.</p>
+
+<p>"Any how, you never saw the horse before?" said the landlord.</p>
+
+<p>"Never see the horse before!" exclaimed Jake. "Why, Lord bless you, I
+know'd him soonsever I sot eyes on him. He's Miss Stebbins's colt."</p>
+
+<p>"And you never told me of this, you scoundrel!"</p>
+
+<p>"I want a goin' to spile a trade," said the hostler. "And then I've
+heard you say so often that nobody could take you in on a hoss, that I
+thought it warnt no use."</p>
+
+<p>"The cussed swindler!" said the major. "After havin' shaved every body
+he came across, he went and shaved a hoss, and put him off on
+me&mdash;<i>me</i>, the greatest hossman in the State of Maine. The next chap
+from Meredith Bridge that comes into these diggins, I'll get a fight
+out of and lick him, jest as sure as my name's Elnathan Spike!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="FUNERAL_SHADOWS" id="FUNERAL_SHADOWS"></a>FUNERAL SHADOWS.</h2>
+
+<h3>A MYSTERY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The wind was howling and moaning through the almost deserted streets
+of Boston, on a chilly evening of September, as a young man of medium
+height and slight figure drew a faded and threadbare black cloak
+around him, pulled his fur cap down on his forehead to shelter his
+eyes from the cutting wind, and strode down Washington Street in a
+northerly direction, with a rapid and impatient step. Arrived at the
+door of a house of moderate pretensions, he entered hastily. We shall
+follow him to the third story, enter with him a large and wholly dark
+apartment, and watch him while he kindles a fire on the ample hearth
+stone. A pale-blue flame flickers hesitatingly among the wood, and
+conjures up from the walls around strange shapes and countenances
+bathed in the indistinct and lurid light. And now the flame grows
+brighter, and the heavy furniture in the apartment flings strange
+shadows, horizontal, diagonal, and perpendicular; and the pictures on
+the wall (for we are in a painter's studio) looked quite as vague and
+vapory as the projected shadows. It is not difficult to imagine some
+of these faces endowed with vitality, and so wild and startling are
+many of them that the wavering shadows seem to belong to them, and to
+be their strangely-animated limbs.</p>
+
+<p>The painter lit a lamp, and then a huge meerschaum filled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> with
+fragrant tobacco, his nightly solace and daily inspiration. While the
+smoke wreaths slowly ascended to the ceiling, he wove his Gothic
+fancies, and saw, in the blue clouds that hovered over him, embryo
+designs and groups that he afterwards transferred to canvas.</p>
+
+<p>Malise Grey was an artist of great but peculiar talent&mdash;a fine
+draughtsman, an admirable colorist, but his imagination was of a
+Gothic cast, and he delighted in strange, fantastical, and
+supernatural subjects. He had travelled much in Germany, and his mind
+was imbued with the superstitions and legends of that storied land.
+These he loved to illustrate with his pencil, and his walls were
+covered with German scenes and subjects, from the "Witches' Sabbath"
+to the "Castled Crag of Drachenfels." Portraits he painted from
+necessity, not choice; but he was too true an artist for the million.
+The sleek hypocrite wore not on his canvas the deceptive look of
+holiness that bore him on through life to wealth and honor, but the
+crafty, sensual smile, the libertine eye, and lips that indicated the
+secret phases of his character. Imbecile beauty saw her index in the
+painted mirror. Folly stood convicted by the pencil. It was frequently
+remarked, that you might learn more of a man from a glance at his
+portrait than from months' companionship with the original. Malise
+Grey was not popular&mdash;but he lived for his art, and bread and water
+satisfied his earthly cravings.</p>
+
+<p>The meerschaum fairly smoked out, the artist drew from a dusty pile of
+canvases one on which he had painted a family group. It was a fancy
+piece. An old man lay upon his death bed, over which bent a weeping
+wife and a sorrowing and lovely child. The face of the latter was one
+of unearthly beauty, and Raphael or Titian might not have disdained
+the painting of those glistening blue eyes, and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> falling sunbeams
+of that golden hair. The painter had poured out his soul upon that
+angelic countenance and perfect figure.</p>
+
+<p>"It is my ideal," said the artist, "and, by the mystic whisper of the
+heart, by the bright teaching of the star that rules my destiny, by
+the forbidden lore of which I have drank deeply, I know that the ideal
+of each mind is the reflex of the actual, and with the true artist
+fancy is existence!"</p>
+
+<p>The meerschaum was again filled, and Malise Grey contemplated his
+picture. The smoke wreaths rolled around it, but it shone out luminous
+and starlike. Its harmony was like the silent melody of the spheres,
+and its musical radiance dispelled the remembrance of all his
+sufferings, and lulled him like the melody of falling waters. When, at
+length, he drew his poor couch from its recess, and threw himself upon
+it, he left the picture full in sight, and continued to watch it by
+the fading firelight till its last luminous point disappeared with the
+blaze, and slumber closed his lids to make its memory brighter.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning was clear and sparkling; the first rays of the sun
+were like fiery rubies on the walls of the studio.</p>
+
+<p>The painter sprang to his feet. "The dream!" he cried. "My heart did
+not deceive me. The spirits are at work for its accomplishment."</p>
+
+<p>He went forth to take his daily walk. There were times when an
+appalling dread of insanity smote his heart, and once the expression
+of a friend at the recital of one of his wildest fantasies led him
+into a train of reflection and self-examination which shook his very
+soul. For a time he forsook his studio, and went abroad into the gay
+world and formed fashionable acquaintances; but he went back to his
+lonely room and his hermit life at the expiration of a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> weeks,
+convinced that the madness of art was preferable to the madness of
+society. And it was a painful thing for him to go abroad, for no one
+sympathized with him. His mind dwelt either on the shadowy past, or
+the yet more shadowy future. He held no communion with the present.
+So, on the occasion we have referred to, after a hurried walk, he
+returned to his room, the door of which he had left unlocked. A veiled
+lady sat before his easel. She rose upon his entrance. His heart beat
+high with anticipations. The lady thus addressed him:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Malise Grey, we have known each other in the land of dreams!" and
+removing her veil, she pointed with her left hand to the picture,
+while she extended her right to the painter. The ideal and the actual
+stood before him. A strange light gleamed upon the painter's mind, and
+he spoke as if prompted by some unseen power.</p>
+
+<p>"Esther Vaughan, by this token do I know you." He took her hand, and
+added, "By the mystic spell that drew us to each other, I conjure you
+here to plight your troth to me for weal and woe."</p>
+
+<p>"My father died shortly after that picture was painted," replied the
+maiden, "and my mother&mdash;my poor mother&mdash;soon followed him. The spirit
+summons commanded me to seek you out. I have obeyed."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>A strange marriage was solemnized in the Old King's Chapel. The bride
+wore no rose or orange flower in her braided hair, and a long, black
+veil enveloped her from head to foot. In fact, her entire raiment, and
+that of the bridegroom, was of the same ghastly hue; and the ceremony
+was performed beneath the light of torches, which threw their funeral
+glare upon the mortuary tablets and reliefs that decorate the interior
+of the sacred edifice. As<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> the newly-married pair were about to step
+into the carriage at the door, a thin figure in black approached the
+bride, and laid its hand upon her arm. The countenance was not
+visible. The bride uttered a sharp cry of pain and terror, and the
+figure instantly stepped back.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold up your torch, there, sexton," cried the painter; "some one has
+insulted the bride."</p>
+
+<p>A tall figure was seen stealing away through the tombstones in the
+churchyard, to which he had probably gained access through a breach in
+the wall, at that time wholly ruinous.</p>
+
+<p>It is not our intention to describe the happiness of Malise Grey and
+his strangely-found and strangely-wedded bride. Enough to say, it was
+like all the circumstances that composed his existence&mdash;dream-like and
+strange. So vivid were his dreams and reveries, that he often wondered
+whether they were not the actual, and his marriage life the imaginary,
+part of his existence. He could not give himself up to enjoyment; and
+sometimes, when his young wife would have lavished on him the wealth
+of her innocent caresses, he turned from her moodily, and muttered,
+"What have I to do with a spirit bride? When the sun rises, these
+shadows will disperse."</p>
+
+<p>Esther Grey had often solicited her husband to paint her portrait,
+since the likeness in the family picture showed her under the
+influence of grief. She wished a record of her happiness. Grey set
+about complying with her request. He assumed the task in a moment of
+inspired and fresh feeling, and went to work with heart and soul. His
+sketch was instantaneously executed, and then</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+  <div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&quot;His touches they flew like leaves in a storm;<br />
+</span>
+<span class="i0">And the pure pearly white, and the carnation warm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Contending in harmony, glowed."<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></div></div>
+
+<p>Suddenly he threw down his pencil, and paced the apartment to and fro
+with rapid strides. "The doomed look!" he muttered, "the doomed look!
+Esther, I can paint no more to-day."</p>
+
+<p>But the morrow found him early at his task. A few hours' work
+completed a portrait which, for fidelity of likeness, harmony of
+accessories, and felicity of coloring, was almost unsurpassable. Yet
+the painter refused to have it framed, and concealed it from view
+behind a curtain in his studio.</p>
+
+<p>A day or two afterwards, a stranger called upon the artist. He was a
+tall, thin man, attired in a threadbare suit of black bombazine. He
+was frightfully pale. His jaws were prominent, and the sallow,
+shrunken skin clung close to every muscle of his countenance. His
+dark, sunken, and glossy eyes had an unearthly expression, and his air
+was melancholy in the extreme. A nameless chill came over the painter
+as he surveyed the aspect of his unknown visitor. The stranger coldly
+surveyed the productions of the artist, and honored them with a few
+brief comments. At length he paused before the veiled picture, and
+said, "This picture of your wife belongs to me."</p>
+
+<p>The painter was so strong a believer in the supernatural, had been
+subject to so many inexplicable influences, that he felt no surprise
+at the stranger's naming the subject of the veiled picture without
+uncovering it. But he repeated, sternly, "Belongs to you? What mean
+you by that remark?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean it is, or will be mine, by purchase."</p>
+
+<p>"Not so."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will not sell it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will not part with it at any price."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger smiled, but not sneeringly or sarcastically<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> The
+expression of his countenance was mournful in the extreme, and
+likewise unpleasant, because the parting of his shrivelled lips
+displayed his large, yellow teeth in unpleasant relief. He opened the
+door, but paused upon the threshold.</p>
+
+<p>"You will not part with it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Once more, no!" replied the painter.</p>
+
+<p>"No matter; the original will soon be mine."</p>
+
+<p>The door closed rapidly behind his noiseless steps. A vague terror
+shot through the soul of the artist.</p>
+
+<p>When Esther Vaughan came to the dwelling of the painter, she was
+radiant with a health which had triumphed over sorrow and long
+watching, but the seeds of disease now fastened upon her frame, and
+she sunk under its influence, growing daily feebler. The almost
+distracted husband employed the best physicians in the city, and under
+their efforts Esther, for a while, seemed to revive. One day, in
+solemn conclave, they decided that the patient would live, and
+announced the intelligence to the poor painter, as he sat in his
+lonely studio, with much pomposity and emphasis. At the time of this
+announcement, the painter was standing opposite the open door through
+which the physicians had just entered. At the moment when a smile of
+gratified love was lighting up his intelligent countenance, his eyes,
+looking beyond the group of visitors, caught in the corridor those of
+the strange bidder for the veiled picture. The unknown shook his head
+slowly and mournfully, then turned and retired.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop him, gentlemen," cried the painter, bursting through the group
+of leeches; "he is a deadly enemy!"</p>
+
+<p>The physicians looked at each other, smiled darkly, and shook their
+heads.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Grey!" said an old doctor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mad?" asked the youngest of the group.</p>
+
+<p>"The cell, the chain, and scourge would be a wholesome prescription,"
+said the first speaker.</p>
+
+<p>Such were the tender mercies of science to madness in the eighteenth
+century.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>It was a hushed midsummer night. The hum of busy footsteps had long
+since died away, and the twinkling lights had faded, one by one, from
+the huge bulk of the metropolis. To the lonely night watcher, there
+was enough of light in the mild effulgence of the moon to distinguish
+whether the pale invalid woke or slumbered; whether the repose of the
+dead was inviolate, or invaded by noisome things that move abroad only
+in darkness. And midway between life and death, so motionless that you
+would say she belonged to the dark realm of the latter, so lovely that
+the former still seemed to claim her own, lay the earth-born love of
+the painter, with her ethereal essence yet hovering near the beloved
+of her soul. The painter sat by the bedside, with her thin, pale hand
+clasped in his. He had listened to her last accents; he had heard her
+call him, in the fervor of her affection, "her beautiful, her own;"
+and he knew that, ere the unseen clock had recorded the death of
+another hour, the feeble pulse that fluttered beneath his fingers
+would have ceased to beat. Yet, with all this, his eyes were tearless,
+and his heart less heavy than in those dark dreams which had
+foreshadowed this event. In weal or woe, his prophetic dreams seemed
+even more impressive than the realities which followed them.</p>
+
+<p>It appeared as if there were a magnetic influence in the touch of the
+dying hand; that the soul of Esther, bathed in the dawning light of
+the better world, had communicated a portion of its brightness to his
+own. So the hours wore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> on; the feeble pulse yet beat, but fainter and
+fainter. At last, through the open window which commanded a view of
+the east, the brightening streaks of dawn appeared; in the leaves of a
+solitary tree, that stood amid a wilderness of brick hard by, was
+heard the faint, tremulous twitter of a bird waiting but a ruddier ray
+to launch forth upon his dewy pinions. A smile, like a ray of light,
+dawned upon the countenance of Esther. She pointed to a shadowy alcove
+in the chamber, and the painter's eye, following the indication,
+detected the figure of his mysterious and prophetic visitor. But the
+countenance of the unknown was milder, softer; a veil of brightness
+had fallen upon the more repulsive lineaments, and when the broad
+daylight beamed into the apartment, his image melted into the ray,
+like a rain-drop into a sunny sea. A thrill ran through the painter's
+frame; he gazed upon the face of Esther; it was that of death.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>An unfinished painting rests upon an easel; it is a glimpse of
+paradise. In the centre is a focus of almost intolerable splendor, the
+luminous veil of the Inconceivable and Infinite; while towards it, as
+if drawn by a vortex of glory, yet held in suspense when too near,
+hovers a cloud of radiant forms and faces, their souls, pure and
+beatified, beaming from their countenances, all full of adoration,
+intelligence, and bliss. The painter sat before it, giving the last
+touches with a feeble yet graceful hand. A light seemed to stream upon
+him from the picture, and lit up his pale, inspired countenance.</p>
+
+<p>The door opened, yet the painter turned not from his task; he heard no
+footstep, yet he knew that the messenger&mdash;no longer feared, but hoped
+for&mdash;was standing at his side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"One touch more," he said, softly. "Thus 'tis done, and bravely done!"</p>
+
+<p>He turned&mdash;the mysterious messenger was truly there. But as the
+painter gazed, the herald's form was transfigured; his poor garments
+had given place to shining raiments; his countenance beamed glory and
+goodness; effulgent wings expanded their snowy plumage from his
+glorious shoulders, and on his forehead shone a star like that of
+morning. He touched the mortal hand that throbbed to meet his clasp;
+the last film fell from the painter's eye, and he saw, with ecstasy,
+no horrid phantom, but <span class="smcap">Azrael</span>, the Angel of Death, great,
+beautiful, and good.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_LATE_ELIAS_MUGGS" id="THE_LATE_ELIAS_MUGGS"></a>THE LATE ELIAS MUGGS,</h2>
+
+<h3>CAPTAIN IN THE M. V. M.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Elias Muggs is no more! Hepzibah Muggs is a widow; a stranger has
+purchased the stock of West India goods, and the Bluetown Fusileers
+are commanded by the first lieutenant. These are sad changes.</p>
+
+<p>It is not a little remarkable that though Captain Elias Muggs was not
+born in the same year as the Duke of Wellington, (though, by the way,
+every body else seems to have been,) yet he died about the same time.
+There was a striking similarity between their characters and
+positions. The Iron Duke was commander-in-chief of the allied forces
+at the battle of Waterloo, and Elias Muggs was commander of the
+Bluetown Fusileers. If Elias Muggs had been born on the other side of
+the water, he probably would have been the Duke of Wellington; and if
+the Duke of Wellington had been born here, he would probably have been
+Elias Muggs. This proposition may appear a metaphysical subtlety to
+obtuse minds, but to ours it seems as clear as mud.</p>
+
+<p>When such a man dies, he must not be permitted to depart</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Without the meed of one melodious tear."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>His loss is a national loss. Nature seems to have intended<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> him for
+President of the United States, but "left him two drinks behind;"
+whence we may conclude that Nature is a humbug, a conclusion
+practically arrived at by most artists, living and dead.</p>
+
+<p>Elias Muggs, from his tenderest years, was devoted to groceries and
+glory. His venerable schoolmistress, who has outlived her illustrious
+pupil, and is now supported by the town whose founders were formed by
+her care, and who laid the foundation of our hero's greatness by the
+powerful application of birch at the seat of learning, assured us, in
+a recent interview, that the military propensities of Muggs were
+developed at an early age. She observed that it was impossible to fix
+his attention on the classic page of Noah Webster when the Bluetown
+Fusileers were passing the school house with drum and fife, and that
+the motive of his first experiment at "hooking jack" was a desire to
+attend a country muster in the neighboring town. She added, that she
+distinctly remembered having confiscated a box of tin soldiers with
+which he was amusing himself, and that he threatened to "punch her
+eye" if she did not release the unconscious prisoners of war on
+<i>parole</i>. These are very important facts.</p>
+
+<p>We are unable to state the precise age at which Elias entered the
+service&mdash;but the town clerk of Bluetown places it at twenty-one. He
+went through the different grades with great rapidity, and was finally
+chosen captain in a warmly-contested election. There is no question
+that he would have been elected unanimously, without difficulty, had
+there not existed a great doubt in the <i>corps</i> (Captain Muggs, by the
+way, always pronounced this word, and spelled it, <i>corpse</i>) of his
+ability to "treat;" whereas his adversary was distinguished for
+possessing a "pocket full of rocks," and a willingness "to treat every
+body." The success<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> of our hero, under the circumstances, was purely
+owing to military merit. The moment he was chosen, he took the field
+at the head of his command. Admiring Bluetown gazed approvingly upon
+his swallow-tailed coat, his tall plume, his shining battle blade, his
+plated scabbard, worsted sash, and low-heeled, cowhide boots. The
+fair, who are ever ready to award their smiles to chivalry, were
+unanimous in their approval, and Deacon Dogget's daughter was heard to
+murmur, "O, what a pooty soger 'lias makes!" "Upon this hint he spake"
+a few days afterwards, and in due time they were married. But enough
+of that&mdash;our essay treats of war, not love.</p>
+
+<p>In his "first field," Captain Muggs displayed his extraordinary
+knowledge of tactics. He it was who first discovered the method of
+"dressing" a line, by backing it up against a curbstone. He also
+divested military science of many pedantic terms, which tend only to
+confuse the young conscript, and dampen the military ardor of the
+patriot soldier. He substituted the brief and soldierly words of
+command, "haw!" "gee!" and "whoa!" for "left," "right," and "halt."
+His spirited "let her rip!" was an infinite improvement on the "fire"
+of the Steuben manual. The object of the commander is to make himself
+understood readily by his men, and in this Captain Muggs was perfectly
+successful.</p>
+
+<p>The greatest commanders have been famous for their terse eloquence.
+Napoleon said to his troops in Egypt, "Soldiers, from the summit of
+these pyramids twenty centuries look down on you this day." Scott, in
+Mexico, said to Smith's brigade, "Brave rifles, you have been baptized
+in fire, and have come out steel." And Muggs, at Bluetown, after the
+last man&oelig;uvre, said, "Feller sogers, that 'ere was prime&mdash;and now
+less adjourn to the tavern and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> likker up at my expense." It is
+questionable whether any speech of Napoleon or Scott ever excited more
+enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>The company adjourned to the tavern, and after plentifully refreshing
+with long nines, pigtail, New England, and crackers, departed with
+three cheers for the "cap'n." We would fain draw a veil over what
+followed. But a strict regard for truth compels us to "speak right out
+in meetin'." All great men have their weaknesses. C&aelig;sar was not
+immaculate. Alexander the Great died of <i>mania a potu</i>. There was no
+Maine liquor law at the time of which we speak. There was not even a
+temperance society in all Bluetown.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Muggs was in the green and salad days of youth. He was flushed
+with military success, young, ardent, and imprudent.</p>
+
+<p>He retired to a private room with the commissioned officers of his
+"corps," and left a liberal order at the bar. Healths were drank,
+songs sung, patriotic and otherwise, more otherwise than patriotic,
+and the "fast and furious" fun was driven into the small hours of the
+morning. When the bill was presented, Captain Muggs was without funds;
+and his gallant subordinates, on the bare suggestion of a loan,
+incontinently vanished. Captain Muggs intimated something about
+credit. The landlord shook his head. Captain Muggs was grieved, and
+the landlord consulted the flytraps on the ceiling, still extending
+his open hand, with the palm upwards, in the direction of the officer.
+Finding the publican obdurate, the captain proposed to leave his
+uniform and equipments in pawn, and the offer was accepted.</p>
+
+<p>And here let us pause to contemplate the moral greatness of this act.
+Those insignia of rank were as dear to Muggs as the apple of his eye.
+They were to him what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> the sceptre and crown were to Napoleon. It was
+like tugging at his heartstrings to unfasten the belt and sash, and
+lay the sword upon the table. Marsyas suffered not more when Apollo
+removed his skin than Muggs did when the landlord stripped off his
+coat and epaulets. When the hat and plume were laid upon the altar of
+offended Mammon, Muggs uttered a deep groan, and departed in his shirt
+sleeves. If we were a great historical painter, we should prefer this
+subject to that of Washington resigning his commission as
+commander-in-chief of the revolutionary army.</p>
+
+<p>The same integrity distinguished Captain Muggs throughout his life.
+When, some years afterwards, he received a letter from a lawyer,
+stating that, in case he did not immediately satisfy a certain claim
+of five years' standing, legal measures would be adopted to enforce
+payment, he remitted the sum in question without a murmur.</p>
+
+<p>Personal courage is not deemed indispensable to great commanders.
+Marlborough is said to have trembled on the battle field. It is the
+part of the officer to command&mdash;of the men to execute. But Muggs was
+as valiant as he was wise. On a field day, when a certain turbulent
+apple woman persisted in encroaching on the lines, Captain Muggs
+charged her in person, unsupported by his troops, upset her apple
+stall, and expelled her from the lines. Such achievements are of rare
+occurrence.</p>
+
+<p>On every parade day, Muggs was "thar." In every sham fight he was
+first and foremost. He was always loudest in proclaiming the "dooty of
+the milingtary to support the civil power." Yet in the great riot
+caused by the illegal impounding of Steve Gubbins's bull, when
+Bluetown was divided against itself, her constabulary force and
+"specials" ignominiously beaten and routed, Captain Muggs, with an
+heroic deafness to the call of glory and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> selectmen, from a
+reluctance to shed the blood of his fellow-citizens, refused to call
+out his company, and concealed himself in a hayloft till the affray
+was over, the pound completely demolished, and the bull rescued from
+the minions of the law.</p>
+
+<p>The loss of such a man is irreparable. What a president he would have
+made! Magnanimity, self-denial, punctuality, eloquence, popularity,
+military glory&mdash;why, he had all the elements of success. But our
+heroes are fast passing away. Muggs is gone, and we must make up our
+minds to be governed by mere statesmen!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_SOLDIERS_WIFE" id="THE_SOLDIERS_WIFE"></a>THE SOLDIER'S WIFE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was a fine night in the autumn of the year 1805, and the stars
+shone as brilliantly over the gay city of Paris as if they had burned
+in an Italian heaven. The cumbrous mass of the palace of the
+Tuileries, instead of lying like a dark leviathan in the shadows of
+the night, blazed with light in all its many-windowed length; for the
+soldier emperor, the idol of his subjects, that night gave a grand
+ball and reception to the world. Troops in full uniform were under
+arms, and the great lamps of the court yard gazed brightly on the
+channelled bayonets and polished musket barrels of the sentinels.
+Carriage after carriage drew up at the great portal, and emitted
+beautiful ladies, brilliantly attired, and marshals and staff officers
+blazing with embroidery; for Napoleon, simple and unostentatious in
+his own person, well knew the importance of surrounding himself with a
+brilliant court; and the people, even the rude and ragged denizens of
+the Faubourgs St. Antoine and St. Marceau, as they hung upon the iron
+railing and scanned the splendid dresses of the guests as they
+alighted from their carriages, were well pleased to see that a throne
+created by themselves could vie in splendor with the old hereditary
+seats of loyalty that existed in spite of the execrations of the
+million. They marked with pleasure the arms of some of the ancient
+Bourbon nobility on the panels of some of the glittering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> equipages,
+for all the aristocracy of France had not joined the banners of her
+adversaries.</p>
+
+<p>Within the walls of the palace, in the reception room, the scene was
+yet more dazzling. The draperies of the throne, at the foot of which
+stood Josephine, more impressive from her native and winning
+loveliness than the splendor of the priceless diamonds that decked her
+brow and neck, and the emperor in the simple attire of a gentleman,
+with no distinctive ornament save the grand cross of the Legion of
+Honor: the draperies of the throne, we say, no longer presented the
+golden lilies of the Bourbon, but the golden bees of Napoleon&mdash;symbols
+of the industry and perseverance which had raised him to his rank. The
+eye, as it roamed around the brilliant circle, encountered few of
+those vapid faces which make the staple of the surroundings of an
+hereditary throne. Every epaulet that sparkled there graced the
+shoulder of a man who had won his grade by exposure, gallantry, and
+intellect. There was the scarred veteran of the Sambre and the Meuse,
+heroes who had crossed "that terrible bridge of Lodi" in the path of
+the French tricolor and the face of the withering fire of Austrian
+batteries&mdash;dim eyes that had been blighted by the burning sands of
+Egypt, warriors who had braved the perils of the Alps, and the dangers
+of the plains of Lombardy.</p>
+
+<p>Somewhat apart from the brilliant circle, in the embrasure of one of
+the deep and lofty windows, stood a young officer, in conversation
+with a beautiful young woman. The latter was attired in white satin,
+and the rich lace veil that half hid the orange flower in her hair,
+and descended gracefully over her faultless shoulders, proclaimed her
+to be a bride. And the young soldier, her companion? The radiant pride
+and joy that beamed from his fine dark eye,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> the animation of his
+manner, and the tenderness of his tone, as he addressed the lady,
+emphatically proclaimed the bridegroom. Such, indeed, were the
+relations of Colonel Lioncourt and Leonide Lasalle, who had that day
+only lost her maiden appellation at the altar of Notre Dame.</p>
+
+<p>So absorbed was the young colonel in the conversation, that it was
+only after he had been twice addressed that he turned and noticed the
+proximity of a third person.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry to interrupt you, colonel," said the new comer, a young man
+with dark lowering brows, deep-set eyes, and a sinister expression,
+heightened by a sabre cut that traversed his left cheek diagonally,
+"but his majesty desires to speak to you."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Au revoir</i>, Leonide," said the young colonel to his bride; "I will
+join you again in a few moments. The emperor is laconic enough in his
+communications. Meanwhile, I leave you to the care of my friend."</p>
+
+<p>The emperor was already impatient, and the moment the colonel appeared
+he grasped his arm familiarly, and led him aside, while the immediate
+group of courtiers fell back respectfully, and out of earshot.</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel," said Napoleon, "I have news&mdash;great news. The enemies of
+France will not give us a moment's repose. It is no longer England
+alone that threatens us. I could have crushed England, had she met me
+single handed. In a month my eagles would have lighted on the tower of
+London. Russia, Austria, and Sweden have joined her. Our frontier is
+threatened by half a million men. Lioncourt, you are brave and trusty,
+and I will tell you what I dare communicate to few. My movements must
+be as secret as the grave. Paris must not suspect them. What do you
+think I propose doing?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"To strengthen the frontier by concentrating your troops on different
+points, sire."</p>
+
+<p>Napoleon smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Lioncourt; we will beard the lion in his den. I have broken up
+the camp at Boulogne. I will rush at once into the heart of Germany. I
+will separate the enemy's columns from each other. The first division
+that marches against me shall be outflanked, attacked in the rear, and
+cut to pieces. One after another they shall fall before me. In three
+months I shall triumph over the coalition. I shall dictate terms of
+peace from the field of battle. Lioncourt, they are short sighted.
+They know nothing of me yet. They fancy that my heart is engaged in
+these frivolous pomps and gayeties with which I amuse the people&mdash;that
+I have become enervated by 'Capuan delights.' But you know me better.
+You know that my throne is the back of my war horse&mdash;that the sword is
+my sceptre, cannon my diplomatists. I wished for peace&mdash;they have
+elected war; on their heads be the guilt and the bloodshed."</p>
+
+<p>He paused, out of breath with the rapidity of his utterance. Colonel
+Lioncourt waited respectfully till he should recommence.</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel," he said, at last, in a tone of sadness, a melancholy shade
+passing over his fine features, "they have described me as a
+sanguinary monster. History will do me justice. History will attest
+that I never drew the sword without just cause&mdash;that I returned it to
+its scabbard on the earliest opportunity. Not on my soul the guilt of
+slaughtered thousands, of villages burned, of peasants driven from
+their homes, of fields ravaged, of women widowed, and children
+orphaned. My whole soul yearns for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> peace. I would build my true
+greatness on the promulgation of just laws, the culture of religion
+and intellect, the triumphs of agriculture, and the arts of peace. But
+I must obey my destiny. Europe must be ploughed by the sword. The
+struggle is between civilization and barbarism, freedom and despotism,
+the Frank and the Cossack. But I prate too long. Colonel, I sent for
+you to pronounce a hard sentence. Your regiment of hussars is already
+under arms. You must march to-night&mdash;instantly."</p>
+
+<p>"Sire," said Lioncourt, with a sigh. "This news will kill my poor
+wife."</p>
+
+<p>"Josephine shall console her," said the emperor. "I would have
+informed you earlier, but St. Eustache, your lieutenant colonel, whom
+I now see talking with madame, advised me not to do so."</p>
+
+<p>"I thank him," muttered Lioncourt bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>"You have no time to lose. I counsel you to leave the presence
+quietly. Let your wife learn that you have marched by a letter. Better
+that than the agony of parting. I know something of human, and
+particularly feminine, nature. Adieu, colonel. Courage and good
+fortune."</p>
+
+<p>And so saying, the emperor glided easily back to the circle he had
+left. Lioncourt's brain reeled under the blow he had received. He
+gazed upon his wife as she stood radiant, beautiful, and unsuspicious,
+under a glittering chandelier, with the same feelings with which a man
+takes his last look of the shore as he sinks forever in the
+treacherous wave. In another moment he was gone. The sentries
+presented arms as he passed out of the palace. His orderly was in the
+court yard holding his charger by the bridle. The colonel threw
+himself into the saddle, and was soon at the head of the regiment. The
+trumpets and kettledrums were mute&mdash;for such were the general orders<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
+and the regiment rode out of the city in silence, broken only by the
+heavy tramping of the horses' hoofs, and the clanking of scabbards
+rebounding from their flanks. As they passed out of one of the gates,
+the lieutenant colonel, St. Eustache, joined the column at a gallop,
+and reported to his commander.</p>
+
+<p>St. Eustache had been a lover of Leonide Lasalle, had proposed for her
+hand, and been rejected. Still, he had not utterly ceased to love her,
+but his desire of possession was now mingled with a thirst of
+vengeance. He both hated and loved the beautiful Leonide, while he
+regarded his fortunate rival and commanding officer with feelings of
+unmitigated hatred. Yet he had art enough to conceal his guilty
+feelings and guilty projects. While he rode beside the colonel, his
+thoughts ran somewhat in this vein:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Well, at least I have succeeded in marring their joy. Lioncourt's
+triumph over me was short lived. He may never see his bride again. He
+is venturesome and rash. We have sharp work before us, or I'm very
+much mistaken, and Colonel Eugene Lioncourt may figure in the list of
+killed in the first general engagement. Then I renew my suit, and if
+Leonide again reject me, there's no virtue in determination."</p>
+
+<p>While the colonel's regiment was slowly pursuing its way, the
+festivities at the Tuileries were drawing to a close. Madame Lioncourt
+wondered very much at the absence of her husband, and still more so
+when the guests began to depart, and he did not reappear to escort her
+to her carriage. It was then that the empress honored her with an
+interview, and, with tears in her beautiful eyes, informed her of her
+husband's march in obedience to orders. The poor lady bore bravely up
+against the effect of this intelligence so long as she was in the
+presence of the emperor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> and empress; but when alone in her carriage,
+on her way to her now solitary home, she burst into a flood of tears,
+and it seemed as if her very heart were breaking. The next morning
+brought a short but kind note from her husband. It was overflowing
+with affection and full of hope. The campaign, conducted by Napoleon's
+genius, he thought, could not fail to be brief, and he should return
+with new laurels, to lay them at the feet of his lovely bride. This
+little note was treasured up by Leonide as if it had been the relic of
+a saint, and its words of love and promise cheered her day after day
+in the absence of her husband.</p>
+
+<p>At last, news came to the capital from the seat of war. The battle of
+Austerlitz had been fought and won. The cannon thundered from the
+Invalides, Paris blazed with illuminations, and the steeples reeled
+with the crashing peals of the joy bells. No particulars came at
+first; many had been killed and wounded; but the French eagles were
+victorious, and this was all the people at first cared for.
+Lioncourt's regiment had covered itself with glory, but no special
+mention was made of him in the first despatches.</p>
+
+<p>At last, one morning, a visitor was announced to Madame Lioncourt, and
+she hastily descended to her salon to receive him. St. Eustache
+advanced to meet her. She eagerly scanned his countenance as he held
+out his hand. It was grave and sombre. A second glance showed her a
+black crape sword knot on the hilt of his sabre. She fainted and sank
+upon the floor before St. Eustache could catch her in his arms. He
+summoned her maid, and the latter, with the assistance of another
+servant, bore her mistress from the apartment.</p>
+
+<p>St. Eustache paced the room to and fro, occasionally raising his eyes
+to contemplate the rich gilded ceiling, the paintings and statuettes,
+which adorned the <i>salon</i>.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Some style here!" he muttered. "And they say she has this in her own
+right. Lioncourt left her some funds, I fancy. Young, beautiful, rich;
+by Jove, she is a prize."</p>
+
+<p>His meditations were interrupted by the return of Madame Lioncourt,
+who motioned her visitor to be seated, and sank into a <i>fauteuil</i>
+herself. She was pale as marble, and her eyes were red with recent
+tears, but her voice was calm and firm as she said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I need hardly ask you, sir, if my poor husband has fallen. I could
+read ill news in your countenance as soon as you appeared. Were you
+near him when he fell?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was beside him, madame. We were charging the flying Russians. Our
+horses, maddened with excitement, had carried us far in advance of our
+column, when suddenly we were surrounded by a group of horsemen, who
+took courage and rallied for a moment. Lioncourt was carrying death in
+every blow he dealt, when a Russian cavalry officer, discharging his
+pistol at point blank distance, shot him dead from the saddle. I saw
+no more, for I was myself wounded and swept away in the torrent of the
+fight. But he is dead. Even if that pistol shot had not slain him, the
+hoofs of his own troopers, as they rushed madly forward in pursuit of
+the enemy, would have trampled every spark of life out of his bosom."</p>
+
+<p>Leonide wrung her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"But you, at least, recovered his&mdash;his remains?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon, madame. I instituted a search for our colonel's body where he
+fell. But the spot had already been visited by marauders. All the
+insignia of rank had disappeared; and in the mangled heap of stripped
+and mutilated corpses, it was impossible to distinguish friend from
+foe."</p>
+
+<p>The widowed bride groaned deeply as she covered her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> face with her
+handkerchief and rocked to and fro on her seat.</p>
+
+<p>"Madame," said St. Eustache, "I will no longer intrude upon your
+grief. When time has somewhat assuaged the poignancy of your
+affliction, I will again call on you to tender my respectful
+sympathies."</p>
+
+<p>Time wore on, and with it brought those alleviations it affords to
+even the keenest sorrow. The assiduity of friends compelled Madame
+Lioncourt to lay aside her widow's weeds, and reappear in the great
+world of fashion. There, whatever may have been her secret sorrow, she
+learned to wear the mask of a smiling exterior, and even to appear
+gayest among the gay, as if she sought forgetfulness in the wildest
+excitement and most frivolous amusement.</p>
+
+<p>During all this time, St. Eustache, who had got a military appointment
+at Paris, was ever at her side. It was impossible for her to avoid
+him. He escorted her to her carriage when she left a ball room; he was
+the first to claim her hand when she entered. He was so respectful, so
+sad, so humble, that it was impossible to take offence at his
+assiduities, and she even began to like him in spite of former
+prejudices. Though it was evident that the freedom of her hand had
+renewed his former hopes, still no words of his ever betrayed their
+revival; only sometimes a suppressed sigh, the trembling of his hand
+as it touched hers, gave evidence that could not be mistaken.</p>
+
+<p>Affairs were in this condition, when a brother of Leonide, Alfred
+Lasalle, a young advocate from the provinces, came to establish
+himself in Paris. He at once became the protector and guardian of his
+sister, and, as such, conceived the same violent dislike to St.
+Eustache that Leonide had formerly entertained towards him. St.
+Eustache, after many fruitless attempts to conciliate the brother,
+gave it up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> in despair. Still, whenever Alfred's affairs called him
+away, he supplied his place with the young widow.</p>
+
+<p>At this time, play sometimes ran very high in the salons of the
+capital; and Leonide rose from the <i>&eacute;cart&eacute;</i> table one night, indebted
+to St. Eustache in the sum of a thousand crowns.</p>
+
+<p>"Call on me to-morrow," said Leonide, with a flushed face, "and I will
+repay you."</p>
+
+<p>St. Eustache was pretty well acquainted with the affairs of the young
+widow. He knew that she had been living on her capital for some time,
+and that she had reached the limit of her resources. He knew that it
+was utterly impossible for her to raise a thousand crowns in
+twenty-four hours. She must, therefore, he thought, cancel her debt by
+her hand. This was the alternative to which he had been man&oelig;uvring
+to bring her; therefore he entered her salon the next day with the air
+of a victor. He was no longer covetous of wealth; he had prospered in
+his own speculations, and was immensely rich; the hand of Leonide,
+even without her heart, was now all he sought.</p>
+
+<p>Madame Lioncourt received him with the easy assurance of a woman of
+the world. He, on his part, advanced with the grace of a French
+courtier.</p>
+
+<p>"You came to remind me, sir," said the lady, "that I was unfortunate
+at play last night."</p>
+
+<p>"No, madame," said St. Eustache, "it is yourself who reminds me of it.
+Pardon me, I am somewhat acquainted with your circumstances. I know
+that you are no longer as rich as you are beautiful&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Sir!"</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon the allusion, madam; I did not intend to insult you, but only
+to suggest that the payment of money was not the only method of
+cancelling a debt."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I do not understand you, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Leonide, it is time that you did understand me!" cried St. Eustache,
+impetuously. "It is time that I should throw off the mask and assert
+my claim to your hand. I loved you once&mdash;I love you still. You are now
+in my power. You cannot pay me the money you owe me; but you can make
+me happy. Your hand&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Colonel St. Eustache," said the lady, coldly, as she rose and handed
+him a pocket book, "be good enough to count those notes."</p>
+
+<p>St. Eustache ran over them hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"A thousand crowns, madame," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Then the debt is cancelled. Never renew the proposal of this morning.
+Good day, sir."</p>
+
+<p>With a haughty inclination of the head, she swept out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Never renew the proposal of this morning!" said St. Eustache to
+himself. "A thousand furies! It shall be renewed to-night. She will be
+at the masquerade at the opera house. I have bribed her chambermaid,
+and know her dress. She shall hear me plead my suit. I have dared too
+much, perilled too much, to give her up so easily."</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Amidst the gay crowd at the opera house was a light figure in a pink
+domino, attended by one in black. Not to make a mystery of these
+characters, they were Madame Lioncourt and her brother.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Alfred," said the lady, "I am afraid you impoverished yourself
+to aid me in extricating myself from the toils of my persevering
+suitor."</p>
+
+<p>"Say nothing of it, Leonide," replied Alfred. "Your liberty is cheaply
+purchased by the sacrifice."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Lady, one word with you," said a low voice at her side.</p>
+
+<p>She turned, and beheld a pilgrim with scrip, staff, and cross, and
+closely masked.</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty, if you will, reverend sir," she replied gayly. "But methinks
+this is a strange scene for one of your solemn vocation."</p>
+
+<p>"The true man," replied the mask, "finds something to interest him in
+every scene of life. Wherever men and women assemble in crowds, there
+is always an opportunity for counsel and consolation. The pious
+pilgrim should console the sad; and are not the saddest hearts found
+in the gayest throngs?"</p>
+
+<p>"True, true," replied Leonide, with a deep sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"But you, at least, are happy, lady," said the pilgrim.</p>
+
+<p>"Happy! Could you see my face, you would see a mask more impenetrable
+than this velvet one I wear. It is all smiles," she whispered. "But,"
+she added, laying her hand on her bosom,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'I have a silent sorrow here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A grief I'll ne'er impart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It heaves no sigh, it sheds no tear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">But it consumes my heart.'"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>"Can it be possible!" cried the pilgrim. "You have the reputation of
+being one of the gayest of the Parisian ladies."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you know me not."</p>
+
+<p>"I know you by name, Madame Lioncourt."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you should know that name represents a noble and gallant
+heart&mdash;the life of my own widowed bosom. You should know that
+Lioncourt, the bravest of the brave,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> the truest of the true, lies in
+a nameless grave at Austerlitz, the very spot unknown."</p>
+
+<p>"I too was at Austerlitz," said the pilgrim, in a deep voice.</p>
+
+<p>"You were at Austerlitz!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, madame, in the&mdash;hussars."</p>
+
+<p>"It was my husband's regiment."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, madame. I was for a long time supposed to be dead. My comrades
+saw me fall, and I was reported for dead. Faith, I came near dying.
+But I fell into the hands of some good people, though they were
+Austrians, and they took good care of me, and cured my wounds; and
+here I am at last."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! why," exclaimed Madame Lioncourt, "may this not have been the
+fate of your colonel? Why may not he too have survived the carnage,
+and been preserved in the same manner? His body was never recognized."</p>
+
+<p>"Very possibly Lioncourt may still be living."</p>
+
+<p>"Yet St. Eustache told me he was dead."</p>
+
+<p>"He is a false traitor!" cried the pilgrim. "Leonide!" cried he, with
+thrilling emphasis, "you have borne bad news; can you bear good?"</p>
+
+<p>"God will give me strength to bear good tidings," cried the lady.</p>
+
+<p>"Then arm yourself with all your energy," said the stranger.
+"Lioncourt lives."</p>
+
+<p>"Lives!" said Leonide, faintly, grasping the arm of the stranger to
+support herself from falling.</p>
+
+<p>"Courage, madame; I tell you the truth. He lives."</p>
+
+<p>"Then take me to him. The crisis is past. I can bear to meet him;
+nothing but delay will kill me now!" cried the lady, hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>"He stands beside you!" said the stranger.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A long, deep sigh, and Leonide lay in the arms of the pilgrim, who was
+still masked. But she recovered herself with superhuman energy, and
+said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come, I must see you. I must kneel at your feet. I must clasp
+your hands; my joy&mdash;my love&mdash;my life!"</p>
+
+<p>"Room, room, there!" cried a seneschal. "The emperor!"</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest Leonide," whispered a voice in her ear, "I resolved to see
+you again to-night, in spite of your prohibition to renew my suit."</p>
+
+<p>"Then wait here beside me; do not leave me," answered the lady, as she
+recognized St. Eustache.</p>
+
+<p>"That will I not, dearest," was the fervent reply.</p>
+
+<p>Napoleon, with Josephine leaning on his arm, advanced through the
+broad space cleared by the attendants, and when he had taken up a
+position in the centre of the hall, near Lioncourt and his bride, St.
+Eustache and Lasalle, gave the signal for the company to unmask. As
+they obeyed, and every face was uncovered, his quick glance caught the
+pale and handsome features of the young cavalry colonel.</p>
+
+<p>"What!" he exclaimed, impetuously. "Can the grave give up its dead? Do
+our eyes deceive us? Is this indeed Lioncourt, whom we left dead upon
+the field of Austerlitz? Advance, man, and satisfy our doubts."</p>
+
+<p>Lioncourt advanced, and the emperor laid his hand upon his arm.</p>
+
+<p>"You are pale as a ghost, man; but still you're flesh and blood. Give
+an account of yourself. Speak quickly; don't you see these ladies are
+dying of curiosity? and, faith, so I am too," he added, smiling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sire," said the colonel, "you will, perhaps, remember ordering my
+regiment in pursuit of the flying Russians?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly well; and they performed the service gallantly. Their rear
+was cut to pieces."</p>
+
+<p>"St. Eustache and I rode side by side," pursued the colonel.</p>
+
+<p>"Here is St. Eustache," cried the emperor, beckoning the officer to
+advance.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear colonel!" cried St. Eustache, embracing his old commander.</p>
+
+<p>"Go on, colonel," cried the emperor, stamping his foot impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>"We hung upon the flying rear of the enemy, sabring every man we
+overtook. Faith, I hardly know what happened afterwards," said the
+colonel, pausing.</p>
+
+<p>"Take up the thread of the story, St. Eustache," said the emperor;
+"don't let it break off here."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sire," said St. Eustache, drawing, a long breath, "as the
+colonel and I were charging side by side, cutting right and left,
+separated from our men by the superior speed of our horses, a Russian
+officer wheeled and shot the colonel from his saddle."</p>
+
+<p>"That was how it happened, Lioncourt," said the emperor. "Now go on.
+Afterwards&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"When I came to my senses, sire," resumed Lioncourt, gloomily, "I
+found myself in the hands of some Austrian peasants. I had been
+plundered of my epaulets and uniform, and they took me for a common
+soldier. But they carried me to their cottage, and dressed my wound,
+and eventually I got well."</p>
+
+<p>"But where were you wounded, colonel?" asked the emperor.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A pistol ball had entered behind my left shoulder, and came out by my
+collar bone."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Behind</i> your left shoulder!" cried Napoleon. "And yet you were
+facing the enemy. How was that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because," said the colonel, sternly, "a Frenchman, a soldier, an
+officer, a disappointed rival, took that opportunity of assassinating
+me, and shot me with his own hostler pistol."</p>
+
+<p>"His name!" shouted the emperor, quivering with passion, "his name; do
+you know him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well.&mdash;It was Lieutenant Colonel St. Eustache!"</p>
+
+<p>All eyes were turned on St. Eustache. His knees knocked together, his
+eyes were fixed, cold drops of perspiration stood on his forehead. But
+in all that circle of indignant eyes, the detected criminal saw only
+the eagle orbs of the emperor, that pierced to his very soul.</p>
+
+<p>"Is this charge true?" asked Napoleon, quickly, quivering with one of
+his tremendous tornadoes of passion.</p>
+
+<p>St. Eustache could not answer; but he nodded his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Your sword!" cried the emperor.</p>
+
+<p>Mechanically the criminal drew his sabre; he had thrown off his
+domino, and now stood revealed in the uniform he disgraced, and
+offered the hilt to the emperor. Napoleon clutched it, and snapped the
+blade under foot. Then, tearing off his epaulets, he threw them on the
+floor, stamped on them, and beckoning to an officer who stood by,
+gasped out,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"A guard, a guard!"</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes the tramp of armed men was heard in the saloon, and
+the wretched culprit was removed.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>General</i> Lioncourt," said the emperor to his recovered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> officer,
+"your new commission shall be made out to-morrow. In the mean while
+the lovely Leonide shall teach you to forget your trials."</p>
+
+<p>The assemblage broke up. Lioncourt, his wife, and her faithful brother
+retired to their now happy home.</p>
+
+<p>The next day was fixed for the trial of the guilty St. Eustache before
+a court martial&mdash;a mere formal preliminary to his execution, for he
+had confessed his crime; but it appeared that during the preceding
+night he had managed to escape.</p>
+
+<p>Flying from justice, the wretched criminal reached one of the bridges
+that span the Seine. Climbing to the parapet, he gazed down into the
+dark and turbid flood, now black as midnight, that rolled beneath the
+yawning arch. There was no star in the sky, and here and there only a
+dim light twinkled, reflected in the muddy wave. Daylight was
+beginning to streak the east with sickly rays. Soon the great city
+would be astir. Soon hoarse voices would be clamoring for the traitor,
+the assassin, the dastard, who, in the hour of victory, had raised his
+hand against a brother Frenchman. Soon, if he lingered, his ears would
+be doomed to hear the death penalty&mdash;soon the muskets, whose fire he
+had so often commanded, would be levelled against his breast. All was
+lost,&mdash;all for which he had schemed and sinned,&mdash;the applause of his
+countrymen, the favor of his emperor, the love of Leonide. At least,
+he would disappoint Paris of a spectacle. He would die by his own act.
+A sudden spring, a heavy plunge, a few bubbles breaking on the black
+surface, and the wretched criminal was no more!</p>
+
+<p>Days afterwards, a couple of soldiers, lounging into La Morgue, the
+dismal receptacle where bodies are exposed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> for identification,
+recognized in a pallid and bloated corpse the remains of the late
+lieutenant colonel of the &mdash;&mdash;th hussars.</p>
+
+<p>Lioncourt learned his fate, but it threw no shadow over his bright and
+cloudless happiness.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="A_KISS_ON_DEMAND" id="A_KISS_ON_DEMAND"></a>A KISS ON DEMAND.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was a very peculiar sound, something like the popping of a
+champagne cork, something like the report of a small pocket pistol,
+but exactly like nothing but itself. It was a kiss.</p>
+
+<p>A kiss implies two parties&mdash;unless it be one of those symbolical
+kisses produced by one pair of lips, and wafted through the air in
+token of affection or admiration. But this particular kiss was
+genuine. The parties in the case were Mrs. Phebe Mayflower, the
+newly-married wife of honest Tom Mayflower, gardener to Mr. Augustus
+Scatterly, and that young gentleman himself. Augustus was a
+good-hearted, rattle-brained spendthrift, who had employed the two or
+three years which had elapsed since his majority in "making ducks and
+drakes" of the pretty little fortune left him by his defunct sire.
+There was nothing very bad about him, excepting his prodigal habits,
+and by these he was himself the severest sufferer. Tom, his gardener,
+had been married a few weeks, and Gus, who had failed to be at the
+wedding, and missed the opportunity of "saluting the bride," took it
+into his head that it was both proper and polite that he should do so
+on the first occasion of his meeting her subsequently to that
+interesting ceremony. Mrs. Mayflower, the other party interested in
+the case, differed from him in opinion, and the young landlord kissed
+her in spite of herself. But she was not without a champion, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> at
+the precise moment when Scatterly placed his audacious lips in contact
+with the blooming cheek of Mrs. M., Tom entered the garden and beheld
+the outrage.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you doing of, Mr. Scatterly?" he roared.</p>
+
+<p>"O, nothing, Tom, but asserting my rights! I was only saluting the
+bride."</p>
+
+<p>"Against my will, Tommy," said the poor bride, blushing like a peony,
+and wiping the offended cheek with her checked apron.</p>
+
+<p>"And I'll make you pay dear for it, if there's law in the land," said
+Tom.</p>
+
+<p>"Poh, poh! don't make a fool of yourself," said Scatterly.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mean to," answered the gardener, dryly.</p>
+
+<p>"You're not seriously offended at the innocent liberty I took?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes I be," said Tom.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if you view it in that light," answered Scatterly, "I shall
+feel bound to make you reparation. You shall have a kiss from my
+bride, when I'm married."</p>
+
+<p>"That you never will be."</p>
+
+<p>"I must confess," said Scatterly, laughing, "the prospect of repayment
+seems rather distant. But who knows what will happen? I may not die a
+bachelor, after all. And if I marry&mdash;I repeat it, my dear fellow&mdash;you
+shall have a kiss from my wife."</p>
+
+<p>"No he shan't," said Phebe. "He shall kiss nobody but me."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes he shall," said Scatterly. "Have you got pen, ink, and paper,
+Tom?"</p>
+
+<p>"To be sure," answered the gardener. "Here they be, all handy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Scatterly sat down and wrote as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="sig">"<span class="smcap">The Willows</span>, August &mdash;, 18&mdash;.</p>
+
+<p>"Value received, I promise to pay Thomas Mayflower or order,
+one kiss on demand.</p>
+
+<p class="sig1">"<span class="smcap">Augustus Scatterly.</span>" </p>
+
+<p>"There you have a legal document," said the young man, as he handed
+the paper to the grinning gardener. "And now, good folks, good by."</p>
+
+<p>"Mistakes will happen in the best regulated families," and so it
+chanced that, in the autumn of the same year, our bachelor met at the
+Springs a charming belle of Baltimore, to whom he lost his heart
+incontinently. His person and address were attractive, and though his
+prodigality had impaired his fortune, still a rich old maiden aunt,
+who doted on him, Miss Persimmon Verjuice, promised to do the handsome
+thing by him on condition of his marrying and settling quietly to the
+management of his estate. So, under these circumstances, he proposed,
+was accepted, and married, and brought home his beautiful young bride
+to reside with Miss Verjuice at the Willows.</p>
+
+<p>In the early days of the honeymoon, one fine morning, when Mr. and
+Mrs. Scatterly and the maiden aunt were walking together in the
+garden, Tom Mayflower, dressed in his best, made his appearance,
+wearing a smile of most peculiar meaning.</p>
+
+<p>"Julia," said Augustus, carelessly, to his young bride, "this is my
+gardener, come to pay his respects to you&mdash;honest Tom Mayflower, a
+very worthy fellow, I assure you."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Scatterly nodded condescendingly to the gardener<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> who gazed upon
+her with the open eyes of admiration. She spoke a few words to him,
+inquired about his wife, his flowers, &amp;c., and then turned away with
+the aunt, as if to terminate the interview.</p>
+
+<p>But Tom could not take his eyes off her, and he stood, gaping and
+admiring, and every now and then passing the back of his hand across
+his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think of my choice, Tom?" asked Scatterly,
+confidentially.</p>
+
+<p>"O, splendiferous!" said the gardener.</p>
+
+<p>"Roses and lilies in her cheeks&mdash;eh?" said Scatterly.</p>
+
+<p>"Her lips are as red as carnations, and her eyes as blue as
+larkspurs," said the gardener.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you like your new mistress; now go to work, Tom."</p>
+
+<p>"I beg pardon, Mr. Scatterly; but I called to see you on business."</p>
+
+<p>"Well&mdash;out with it."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember any thing about saluting the bride?"</p>
+
+<p>"I remember I paid the customary homage to Mrs. Mayflower."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, don't you remember what you promised in case of your marriage?"</p>
+
+<p>"No!"</p>
+
+<p>Tom produced the promissory note with a grin of triumph. "It's my turn
+now, Mr. Scatterly."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean to kiss Mrs. Scatterly."</p>
+
+<p>"Go to the deuse, you rascal!"</p>
+
+<p>"O, what is the matter?" exclaimed both the ladies, startled by
+Scatterly's exclamation, and turning back to learn the cause.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"This fellow has preferred a demand against me," said Scatterly.</p>
+
+<p>"A legal demand," said the gardener, sturdily; "and here's the
+dokiment."</p>
+
+<p>"Give it to me," said the old maid aunt. Tom handed her the paper with
+an air of triumph.</p>
+
+<p>"Am I right?" said he.</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly, young man," replied Miss Verjuice; "only, when my nephew
+married, I assumed all his debts; and I am now ready myself to pay
+your claim."</p>
+
+<p>"Fairly trapped, by Jupiter!" exclaimed Scatterly, in an ecstasy of
+delight.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop, stop!" cried the unhappy gardener, recoiling from the withered
+face, bearded lip, and sharp nose of the ancient spinster; "I
+relinquish my claim&mdash;I'll write a receipt in full."</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," said Scatterly; "you pressed me for payment this
+moment&mdash;and you shall take your pay, or I discharge you from my
+employ."</p>
+
+<p>"I am ready," said the spinster, meekly.</p>
+
+<p>Tom shuddered&mdash;crawled up to the old lady&mdash;shut his eyes&mdash;made up a
+horrible face, and kissed her, while Mr. and Mrs. S. stood by,
+convulsed with laughter.</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes afterwards, Tom entered the gardener's lodge, pale, weak,
+and trembling, and sank into a chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me a glass of water, Phebe!" he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear, what has happened?" asked the little woman.</p>
+
+<p>"Happened! why that cussed Miss Verjuice is paying Mr. Scatterly's
+debts."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I presented my promissory note&mdash;he handed it to
+her&mdash;and&mdash;and&mdash;O murder!&mdash;<i>I've been kissing the old woman!</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Phebe threw her arms about his neck, and pressed her lips to his, and
+Thomas Mayflower then and there solemnly promised that he would
+nevermore have any thing to do with <span class="smcap">Kisses on Demand</span>!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_RIFLE_SHOT" id="THE_RIFLE_SHOT"></a>THE RIFLE SHOT.</h2>
+
+<h3>A MADMAN'S CONFESSION.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It is midnight. The stealthy step of the restless maniac is no longer
+heard in the long, cheerless corridors; the ravings of the incurable
+cannot penetrate the deep walls of the cells in which their despair is
+immured; even the guardians of the establishment are asleep. Without,
+what silence! The branches of the immemorial trees hang pendulous and
+motionless; the last railway train, with its monster eyes of light,
+has thundered by. The neighboring city seems like one vast mausoleum,
+over which the silent stars are keeping watch and ward, and weeping
+silvery dew like angels' tears. Only crime and despair are sleepless.</p>
+
+<p>To my task. They allow me a lamp. They are not afraid that the
+<i>madman</i> will fire his living tomb and perish in the ruins. Wise men
+of science! Cunning readers of the human heart, your decrees are
+infallible. I am mad. But perhaps some eager individual whose eyes
+shall rest upon these pages will pronounce a different sentence;
+perhaps he may know how to distinguish <i>crime</i> from <i>madness</i>.</p>
+
+<p>A vision of my youth comes over me&mdash;a happy boyhood&mdash;a tree-embowered
+home, babbling brooks, fertile lawns&mdash;a father's blessing&mdash;a mother's
+kiss that was both joy and blessing&mdash;a brother's brave and tender
+friendship&mdash;and first love, that dearest, sweetest, holiest charm of
+all.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> O God! that those things were and are not! It is agony to recall
+them.</p>
+
+<p>Pass, too, the brief Elysian period of wedded love. Julia sleeps well
+in her woodland grave. I was false to her memory.</p>
+
+<p>If my boyhood were happy, my manhood was a melancholy one. A morbid
+temperament, fostered by indulgence, dropped poison even in the cup of
+bliss. I loved and I hated with intensity.</p>
+
+<p>To my widowed home came, after the death of my wife, my fair cousin
+Amy, and my young brother Norman. Both were orphans like myself. Amy
+was a glorious young creature&mdash;my antithesis in every respect. She was
+light hearted, I was melancholy; she was beautiful, I ill favored; she
+was young, I past the middle age of life, arrived at that period when
+philosophers falsely tell us that the pulses beat moderately, the
+blood flows temperately, and the heart is tranquil. Fools! the fierce
+passions of the soul belong not to the period of youth or early
+manhood. But let my story illustrate my position.</p>
+
+<p>Amy filled my lonely home with mirth and music. She rose with the
+lark, and carolled as wildly and gayly the livelong day, till, like a
+child tired of play, she sank from very exhaustion on her pure and
+peaceful couch. Norman was her playmate. In early manhood he retained
+the buoyant and elastic spirit of his youth. His was one of those
+natures which never grow old. Have you ever noticed one of those aged
+men, whose fresh cheeks and bright eyes, and ardent sympathy with all
+that is youthful and animated, belie the chronicle of Time? Such might
+have been the age of Norman, had not&mdash;&mdash;But I am anticipating.</p>
+
+<p>Between my cold and exhausted nature and Amy's warm, fresh heart, you
+might have supposed that there could have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> been no union. Yet she
+loved me warmly and well&mdash;loved me as a friend and father. I returned
+her pure and innocent affection with a fierce passion. I longed to
+possess her. The memory of her I had loved and lost was but as the
+breath on the surface of a steel mirror, which heat displaces and
+obliterates.</p>
+
+<p>I was not long in perceiving the exact state of her feelings towards
+me, and with that knowledge came the instantaneous conviction of her
+fondness for my brother, so well calculated to inspire a young girl's
+love. I watched them with the keen and angry eyes of jealousy. I
+followed them in their walks; I played the eavesdropper, and caught up
+the words of their innocent conversation, endeavoring to turn them to
+their disadvantage. By degrees I came to hate Norman; and what equals
+in intensity a brother's hate? It surpasses the hate of woman.</p>
+
+<p>In the insanity of my passion&mdash;then I was insane indeed&mdash;I sought to
+rival my brother in all those things in which he was my superior. He
+was fond of field sports, and a master of all athletic exercises; he
+was fond of bringing home the trophies of his manly skill and
+displaying them in the eyes of his mistress. He could bring down the
+hawk from the clouds, or arrest the career of the deer in full spring.
+I practised shooting, and failed miserably. His good-natured smile at
+my maladroitness I treasured up as a deadly wrong. While he rode
+fearlessly, I trembled at the thought of a leap. He danced gracefully
+and lightly; my awkward attempts at waltzing made both Amy and her
+lover smile.</p>
+
+<p>But in mental accomplishments I was the superior of Norman; and in my
+capacity of teacher both to Amy and my brother, I had ample
+opportunity of displaying the powers of my mind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Amy was gifted with quick intelligence; Norman was a dull scholar.
+What pleasure I took in humbling him in the eyes of his mistress! what
+asperity and scorn I threw into my pedantic rebukes! Norman was
+astonished and wounded at my manner. As he was in a good degree
+dependent on me, as he owed to me his nurture, sustenance, and
+training, I took full advantage of our relative position. With
+well-feigned earnestness and sorrow, I exaggerated my pecuniary
+embarrassments, and pointed out to him the necessity of his providing
+for himself, suggesting, with tears in my eyes, that he must adopt
+some servile trade or calling, as his melancholy deficiencies
+precluded the possibility of his success in any other line.</p>
+
+<p>Norman had little care for money. Before the fatal advent of Amy, I
+had supplied him freely with the means of gratifying his tastes; but
+when I found that he expended his allowance in presents for his fair
+cousin, on the plea of hard necessity I restricted his supplies, and
+finally limited him to a pittance, which only a feeble regard for the
+memory of our indulgent mother forced me to grant.</p>
+
+<p>One day&mdash;I remember it well&mdash;he came to me with joy depicted in his
+countenance, and displayed a recent purchase, the fruits of his forced
+economy. It was a fine rifle; and he urged me and Amy to come and see
+him make a trial of the weapon. I rebuked him for his extravagance
+with a sharpness which brought tears into his eyes&mdash;but I consented to
+witness the trial. His first shot centered the target. He loaded
+again, and handed the weapon to me. My bullet was nowhere to be found.
+Norman's second shot lapped his first. Mine was again wide of the
+mark. Norman laughed thoughtlessly. Amy looked grave, for with a
+woman's quickness she had guessed at the truth of my feelings. I cut
+the scene short by summoning both to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> their studies. That morning
+Norman, whose thoughts were with his rifle, blundered sadly in his
+mathematics, and I rebuked him with more than my usual asperity.</p>
+
+<p>Be it understood that my character stood high with the world. I was
+not undistinguished in public life, and had the rare good fortune to
+conciliate both parties. I was a working man in many charitable and
+philanthropic societies. I was a member of a church, and looked up to
+as a model of piety. As a husband and brother, I was held up as an
+example. I had so large a capital of character, I could deal in crime
+to an unlimited amount.</p>
+
+<p>Some days after the occurrence just related, I was alone with my
+brother in the library.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Norman," said I, "leave those stupid books. Study is a poor
+business for a young free heart like yours. Leave books for old age
+and the rheumatism."</p>
+
+<p>Norman sprang up joyously. "With all my heart, brother; I'm with you
+for a gallop or a ramble."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm but a poor horseman, and an indifferent walker," I answered.
+"What do you say to a little rifle practice? I should like to try to
+mend my luck."</p>
+
+<p>Norman's rifle was in his hand in a moment, and whistling his favorite
+spaniel, he sallied forth with me into the bright, sunshiny autumnal
+day. We hied to a hollow in the woods where he had set up a target. He
+made the first shot&mdash;a splendid one&mdash;and then reloaded the rifle.</p>
+
+<p>"Take care," said he, "how you handle the trigger; you know the lock
+is an easy one&mdash;I am going to have it altered." And he went forward to
+set the target firmer in the ground, as his shot had shaken it.</p>
+
+<p>He was twenty paces off&mdash;his back turned towards me. I lifted the
+rifle, and covered him with both sights. It was the work of a moment.
+My hand touched the trigger. A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> sharp report followed&mdash;the puff of
+blue smoke swirled upward&mdash;and my brother fell headlong to the ground.
+The bullet had gone crashing through his skull. He never moved.</p>
+
+<p>A revulsion of feeling instantly followed. All the love of former
+years&mdash;all the tender passages of our boyhood&mdash;rushed through my brain
+in an instant. I flew to him and raised him from the earth. At sight
+of his pale face, beautiful in death, of his long bright locks dabbled
+in warm blood, I shrieked in despair. A mother bewailing her first
+born could not have felt her loss more keenly, or mourned it more
+wildly. Two or three woodmen rushed to the spot. They saw, as they
+supposed, the story at a glance. One of those accidents so common to
+the careless use of firearms&mdash;and I was proverbially unacquainted with
+their use&mdash;had produced the catastrophe. We were borne home, for I had
+fainted, and was as cold and lifeless as my victim. What passed during
+a day or two I scarcely remember. Something of strange people in the
+house&mdash;of disconnected words of sympathy&mdash;of a coffin&mdash;a funeral&mdash;a
+pilgrimage to the woodland cemetery, where my parents and my wife
+slept&mdash;are all the memory records of those days.</p>
+
+<p>Then I resumed the full possession of my senses. Amy's pale face and
+shadowy form were all that were left of <i>her</i>&mdash;my brother's seat at
+the table and the fireside were empty. But his clothes, his picture,
+his riding cap and spurs, a thousand trifles scattered round, called
+up his dread image every day to the fratricide. His dog left the house
+every morning, and came not back till evening. One day he was found
+dead in the graveyard where his master had been laid.</p>
+
+<p>Amy clung to me with despairing love. She <i>would</i> talk of the lost
+one. She <i>would</i> find every day in me some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> resemblance to him.
+Perhaps she would even have wedded in me the memory of the departed.
+But that thought was too horrible. I loved her no longer.</p>
+
+<p>Friends came to condole with me. Every word of sympathy was a barbed
+arrow. I could bear it no longer. Conscience stung me not to madness,
+but confession. I repelled sympathy&mdash;I solicited denunciation. I told
+them I was my brother's murderer. I forced my confession on every one
+who would hear it. Then it became rumored about that my "fine mind,"
+so they phrased it, had given way beneath the weight of sorrow. I was
+regarded with fear. A physician of my acquaintance made me a friendly
+visit, and shook his head when he heard my story. One day this
+gentleman invited me to ride in his carriage. He left me here. Society
+believes me mad&mdash;that I am not, is to me a miracle.</p>
+
+<p>O ye wise ones of the earth,&mdash;legislators of the land,&mdash;would ye
+avenge the blood that has been spilt by violence on the ruthless
+murderer, would ye inflict punishment upon him, spare and slay him
+not. Take down the gallows, and in its place erect your prisons doubly
+strong, for there, within their ever-during walls of granite, lies the
+hell of the villain who has robbed his brother of his life.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_WATER_CURE" id="THE_WATER_CURE"></a>THE WATER CURE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Since the introduction of the limpid waters of Lake Cochituate into
+the goodly city of Boston, the water commissioners have had their
+hands full of business, for the various accidents incidental to the
+commencement of the service, the bursting of pipes, the demands for
+payments of damages, applications for accommodations, &amp;c., have
+rendered the offices no sinecures.</p>
+
+<p>The other day, a poorly but decently-dressed Irish woman entered the
+office of the commissioners on Washington Street, and walked up to the
+head clerk.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my good woman, what do you want?"</p>
+
+<p>"I want to see the dochthor."</p>
+
+<p>"The doctor! what doctor?"</p>
+
+<p>"How should I know his name, and me niver seeing him?"</p>
+
+<p>"This is the water commissioner's office, my good woman."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! and sure I've hard of the wonderful cures you've made. If my poor
+Teddy had been alive at this moment, he wouldn't have been dead the
+day."</p>
+
+<p>"O, you want the water brought into your house."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure and I'd like that same."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, where do you live?"</p>
+
+<p>"Broad Strate&mdash;near Purchase Strate&mdash;it's a small<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> cellar I have to
+myself. I used to take boarders; but it's poorly I am, and I can't
+work as I used to, dochthor."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, haven't you got any water?"</p>
+
+<p>"Divil a bit. I have to take my pail and go to Bread Strate for it."</p>
+
+<p>"And the water doesn't come into your cellar?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure it comes into me cellar sometimes&mdash;but it's as salt as brine;
+it's the say water. I've tried to drink it, but it made me sick. O,
+I'm bad, dochthor, dear; if you think the water'll cure me, tell me
+where I can get it."</p>
+
+<p>"You've got the pipes down your way?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've got the pipes, dochthor, dear&mdash;but sorrow a bit of tibaccy. Do
+you think smoking is good for the rheumatiz?"</p>
+
+<p>"There's some mistake here," said the clerk; "what's that you've got
+in your hand?"</p>
+
+<p>"They tould me to bring this bit ov pasteboord here, sure."</p>
+
+<p>The clerk took it. It was a dispensary ticket. He explained the
+mistake, and told the applicant where she should go to obtain medicine
+and advice.</p>
+
+<p>"No, dochthor, dear&mdash;it's no mistake&mdash;it's the water cure I'm after.
+Sure it's the blissid wather that saves us. There was Pat Murphy that
+brak his leg when he fell with a hod of bricks aff the ladder in Say
+Strate, and they put a bit of wet rag round it, and the next wake he
+was dancing a jig to the chune of Paddy Rafferty, at the ball given by
+the Social Burial Society. And there was my sister Molly's old man,
+Phelim, that was took bad wid the fever&mdash;and he drank walth of
+whiskey, but it never did him a bit of good&mdash;but when he lift off the
+whiskey, and drank nothin' but wather, he came round in a wake. O,
+dochthor, let me have the blissid water."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p><p>"You must see your landlord about that."</p>
+
+<p>"You wouldn't sind me to him, dochthor."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm no doctor, good woman," said the clerk, now thoroughly annoyed,
+"and you've come to the wrong shop, as I told you."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you use the water?" inquired the woman.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you turn the cock and let it on&mdash;in this way," said the clerk,
+letting a little Cochituate into a basin. "There, go along now, and go
+to the doctor's, as I have directed you."</p>
+
+<p>"Sorrow a dochthor I go to but the water dochthor, this blissid day,"
+said the woman, and she left the office.</p>
+
+<p>She repaired to her cellar in no enviable frame of mind. She was sick
+and discouraged, and labored under the impression that she had been to
+the right place, but they had imposed upon her, from an unwillingness
+to aid her. In the mean while, however, during her absence, a service
+pipe had been admitted into her premises by the landlord, though she
+was not aware of the fact. She became acquainted with it soon enough,
+however. The next morning, about four o'clock, as she lay on the
+floor, bemoaning her hard fate and the neglect of the "dochthor," she
+heard a rushing noise. The water pipe had burst, and a stream, like a
+fountain, was now steadily falling into the cellar.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless their hearts!" exclaimed the old woman, "they haven't forgotten
+the poor. The dochthor's sent the water at last&mdash;and I must lie still
+and take it."</p>
+
+<p>The first shock of the invading flood was a severe one.</p>
+
+<p>"Millia murther!" she exclaimed, "how could it is! Dochthor, dear,
+couldn't ye have let me had it a thrifle warmer?"</p>
+
+<p>The water continued to pour in, and she was thoroughly soaked. Under
+the belief that the doctor must be somewhere about, superintending the
+operation, but keeping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> himself out of sight from motives of delicacy,
+she continued to address him.</p>
+
+<p>"There! dochthor, dear. Blessings on ye! That'll do for this time.
+It's could I am! Stop it, dochthor! I've had enough! It's too good for
+the likes of me. I fale betther, dochthor; I won't throuble ye more,
+dochthor; many thanks to ye, dochthor! do ye hear? It's drowning I
+am!"</p>
+
+<p>By this time she had risen, and was standing ankle deep in water. As
+the element was still rising, and the "dochthor" failed to make his
+appearance, the poor woman climbed upon a stool, which was soon
+insulated by the tide. From this she managed to escape in a large
+bread trough, and ferried herself over to a shelf, where she lay in
+comparative safety, watching the rising of the waters.</p>
+
+<p>What would have been her fate, if she had remained alone, it is
+impossible to say. After some time the noise of waters alarmed the
+neighbors; they came to see what was the matter, and finally succeeded
+in rescuing the tenant of the cellar from the threatened deluge. She
+was comfortably cared for by a fellow-countrywoman, and a regular
+dispensary physician sent for. Wonderful to relate, the shock of the
+cold bath had accomplished one of those accidental cures, of which
+many are recorded in the history of rheumatic disorders; and in a few
+days, the sufferer was on her legs again. Furthermore, her sickness
+had proved the means of interesting several benevolent individuals in
+her fate, and by their assistance she was established in a little
+shop, where she is making an honest penny, and laying by something
+against a rainy day. This she all attributes to the "blissid wather,"
+and, in her veneration for the element, has totally abjured whiskey,
+and signed the pledge, an act which gives assurance of her future
+fortune.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_COSSACK" id="THE_COSSACK"></a>THE COSSACK.</h2>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i9">I'd give<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Ukraine back again to live<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It o'er once more, and be a page,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The happy page, who was the lord<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of one soft heart and his own sword.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p ><span style="margin-left: 17em;" class="smcap">Mazeppa.</span></p>
+
+
+<p>Count Willnitz was striding to and fro in the old hall of his
+ancestral castle, in the heart of Lithuania. Through the high and
+narrow Gothic windows the light fell dimly into the cold apartment,
+just glancing on the massive pillars, and bringing into faint relief
+the dusty banners and old trophies of arms that hung along the walls,
+for the wintry day was near its close. The count was a dark-browed,
+stern-featured man. His cold, gray eyes were sunken in their orbits;
+and deep lines were drawn about his mouth, as if some secret grief
+were gnawing at his vitals. And, indeed, good cause existed for his
+sorrow; for, but a few days previously, he had lost his wife. They had
+buried the countess at midnight, as was the custom of the family, in
+the old, ancestral vault of the castle. Vassal and serf had waved
+their torches over the black throat of the grave, and the wail of
+women had gone up through the rocky arches. Still the count had been
+seen to shed no tear. An old warrior, schooled in the stern academy
+of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> military life, he had early learned to conquer his emotions;
+indeed, there were those who said that nature, in moulding his
+aristocratic form, had forgotten to provide it with a heart; and this
+legend found facile credence with the cowering serfs who owned his
+sway, and the ill-paid soldiers who followed his banner. The last male
+descendant of a long and noble line, he was ill able to maintain the
+splendor of his family name; for his dominions had been "curtailed of
+their fair proportion," and his finances were in a disordered state.</p>
+
+<p>As, like Hardicanute in the old ballad,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Stately strode he east the wa',<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stately strode he west,"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>there entered a figure almost as grim and stern as himself. This was
+an old woman who now filled the office of housekeeper, having
+succeeded to full sway on the death of the countess, the young
+daughter of the count being unable or unwilling to assume any care in
+the household.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, dame," said the count, pausing in his walk, and confronting the
+old woman, "how goes it with you, and how with Alvina? Still sorrowing
+over her mother's death?"</p>
+
+<p>"The tears of a maiden are like the dews in the morning, count,"
+replied the old woman. "The first sunbeam dries them up."</p>
+
+<p>"And what ray of joy can penetrate the dismal hole?" asked the count.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember the golden bracelet you gave your lady daughter on
+her wedding day?" inquired the old woman, fixing her keen, gray eye on
+her master's face as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, well," replied the count; "golden gifts are not so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> easily
+obtained, of late, that I should forget their bestowal But what of the
+bawble?"</p>
+
+<p>"I saw it in the hands of the page Alexis, when he thought himself
+unobserved."</p>
+
+<p>"How!" cried the count, his cheek first reddening, and then becoming
+deadly pale with anger; "is the blood of the gitano asserting its
+claim? Has he begun to pilfer? The dog shall hang from the highest
+battlement of the castle!"</p>
+
+<p>"May it not have been a free gift, sir count?" suggested the hideous
+hag.</p>
+
+<p>"A free gift! What mean you? A love token? Ha! dare you insinuate? And
+yet her blood is&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush! walls have sometimes ears," said the old woman, looking
+cautiously around. "The gypsy child you picked up in the forest is now
+almost a man; your daughter is a woman. The page is beautiful; they
+have been thrown much together. Alvina is lonely, romantic&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Enough, enough!" said the count, stamping his foot. "I will watch
+him. If your suspicions be correct&mdash;&mdash;" He paused, and added between
+his clinched teeth, "I shall know how to punish the daring of the dog.
+Away!"</p>
+
+<p>The old woman hobbled away, rubbing her skinny hands together, and
+chuckling at the prospect of having her hatred of the young countess
+and the page, both of whom had excited her malevolence, speedily
+gratified.</p>
+
+<p>Count Willnitz was on the eve of a journey to Paris with his daughter.
+They were to start in a day or two. This circumstance brought on the
+adventure we shall speedily relate.</p>
+
+<p>Between Alexis, the beautiful page whom the late countess had found
+and fancied among a wandering Bohemian horde, and the high-born
+daughter of the feudal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> house, an attachment had sprung up, nurtured
+by the isolation in which they lived, and the romantic character and
+youth of the parties. About to be separated from his mistress for a
+long time, the page had implored her to grant him an interview, and
+the lovers met in an apartment joining the suite of rooms appropriated
+to the countess, and where they were little likely to be intruded
+upon. In the innocence of their hearts, they had not dreamed that
+their looks and movements had been watched, and they gave themselves
+up to the happiness of unrestrained converse. But at the moment when
+the joy of Alexis seemed purest and brightest, the gathering thunder
+cloud was overhanging him. At the moment when, sealing his pledge of
+eternal fidelity and memory in absence, he tremblingly printed a first
+and holy kiss upon the blushing cheek of Alvina, an iron hand was laid
+upon his shoulder, and, torn ruthlessly from the spot, he was dashed
+against the wall, while a terrible voice exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Dog, you shall reckon with me for this!"</p>
+
+<p>Alvina threw herself at her father's feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon&mdash;pardon for Alexis, father! I alone am to blame."</p>
+
+<p>"Rise! rise!" thundered the count. "Art thou not sufficiently
+humiliated? Dare to breathe a word in his favor, and it shall go hard
+with thy minion. Punishment thou canst not avert; say but a word, and
+that punishment becomes death; for he is mine, soul and body, to have
+and to hold, to head or to hang&mdash;my vassal, my slave! What ho, there!"</p>
+
+<p>As he stamped his foot, a throng of attendants poured into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Search me that fellow!" cried the count, pointing with his finger to
+Alexis.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A dozen officers' hands examined the person of Alexis, one of them,
+more eager than the rest, discovered a golden bracelet, and brought it
+to the count.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha!" cried the count, as he gazed upon the trinket; "truly do I
+recognize this bawble. Speak, dog! when got'st thou this?"</p>
+
+<p>Alvina was about to speak, and acknowledge that she had bestowed it;
+but before she could utter a syllable, the page exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I confess all&mdash;I stole it."</p>
+
+<p>"Enough!" cried the count. "Daughter, retire to your apartment."</p>
+
+<p>"Father!" cried the wretched girl, wringing her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence, countess!" cried the count, with terrific emphasis.
+"Remember that I wield the power of life and <i>death</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>Casting one look of mute agony at the undaunted page, the hapless lady
+retired from the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Zabitzki," said the count, addressing the foremost of his attendants,
+"take me this thieving dog into the court yard, and lay fifty stripes
+upon his back. Then bear him to the dungeon in the eastern turret that
+overlooks the moat; there keep him till you learn my further
+pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>The page was brave as steel. His cheek did not blanch, nor did his
+heart quail, as he heard the dreadful sentence. His lips uttered no
+unmanly entreaty for forgiveness; but, folding his arms, and drawing
+up his elegant figure to its full height, he fixed his eagle eye upon
+the count, with a glance full of bitter hatred and mortal defiance.
+And afterwards, when submitting to the ignominious punishment, with
+his flesh lacerated by the scourge, no groan escaped his lips that
+might reach the listening ear of Alvina. He bore it all with Spartan
+firmness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Midnight had struck when the young countess, shrouded in a cloak, and
+bearing a key which she had purchased by its weight in gold, ascended
+to the eastern turret, resolved to liberate the prisoner. The door
+swung heavily back on its rusted hinges as she cautiously entered the
+dungeon. Drawing back the slide from a lantern she carried in her left
+hand, she threw its blaze before her, calling out at the same time,
+"Alexis!"</p>
+
+<p>No voice responded.</p>
+
+<p>"They have murdered him!" she murmured, as she rushed forward and
+glanced wildly around her.</p>
+
+<p>The cell was empty. She sprang to the grated window. The bars had been
+sawn through and wrenched apart, with the exception of one, from which
+dangled a rope made of fragments of linen and blanket twisted and
+knotted together. Had Alexis escaped, or perished in the attempt? The
+moat was deep and broad; but the page was a good swimmer and a good
+climber, and his heart was above all proof. There was little doubt in
+the mind of his mistress that fortune had favored him. Sinking on her
+knees, she gave utterance to a fervent thanksgiving to the almighty
+Power which had protected the hapless boy, and then retired to her
+couch to weep in secret. The next day the castle rang with the escape
+of Alexis. Messengers were sent out in pursuit of him in every
+direction; but a fall of snow in the latter part of the night
+prevented the possibility of tracking him, and even the dogs that the
+count put upon the scent were completely baffled. The next day the
+count and his daughter started on their journey.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For time at last sets all things even;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And if we do but watch the hour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There never yet was human power<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which could evade, if unforgiven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The patient search and vigil long<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of him who treasures up a wrong.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="sig">
+<span class="smcap">Byron.</span>
+</p>
+
+
+<p>Years had passed away. The storm of war had rolled over the country,
+and the white eagle of Poland had ceased to wave over an independent
+land. Count Willnitz and his daughter had returned to the old castle;
+the former stern and harsh as ever, the latter completely in the power
+of an inexorable master. She had received no tidings of Alexis, and
+had given him up as lost to her forever. Her father, straightened in
+his circumstances and menaced with ruin, had secured relief and safety
+by pledging his daughter's hand to a wealthy nobleman, Count Radetsky,
+who was now in the castle awaiting the fulfilment of the bargain.</p>
+
+<p>"Go, my child," said the count, with more gentleness than he usually
+manifested in his manner. "You must prepare yourself for the altar."</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said the young girl, earnestly, "does he know that I love
+him not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have told him all, Alvina."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet he is willing to wed me!" She raised her eyes to heaven,
+rose, and slowly retired to her room.</p>
+
+<p>Louisa, the old woman presented in the first scene of our tale, decked
+the unfortunate girl in her bridal robes, and went with her to the
+chapel, where her father and Radetsky awaited her. An old priest
+mumbled over the cere<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>mony, and joined the hands of the bride and
+bridegroom. The witnesses were few&mdash;only the vassals of the count; and
+no attempt at festivity preceded or followed the dismal ceremony.</p>
+
+<p>Alvina retired to her chamber when it was over, promising to join her
+bridegroom at the table in a few moments. The housekeeper accompanied
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"I give you joy, Countess Radetsky," said the old woman.</p>
+
+<p>"I sorely need it," was the bitter answer. "I have sacrificed myself
+to the duty I owe my sole surviving parent."</p>
+
+<p>The old woman rubbed her hands and chuckled as she noted the tone of
+anguish in which these words were uttered.</p>
+
+<p>"I can now speak out," she said. "After long years of silence, the
+seal is removed from my lips. I can now repay your childish scorn, and
+bitter jests, by a bitterer jest than any you have yet dreamed of.
+Countess Radetsky&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Spare me that name," said the countess.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, sweet, it is one you will bear through life," said the hag, "and
+you had better accustom yourself early to its sound. Know, then, my
+sweet lady, that the count, my master, had no claims on your
+obedience."</p>
+
+<p>"How?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is a childless man. He found you an abandoned orphan. Struck with
+your beauty, he brought you to his lady, and, though they loved you
+not, they adopted you, with a view to making your charms useful to
+them when you should have grown up. The count has amply paid himself
+to-day for all the expense and trouble you have put him to. He has
+sold you to an eager suitor for a good round price. Ha, ha!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And you knew this, and never told me!" cried the hapless girl.</p>
+
+<p>"I was bound by an oath not to reveal the secret till you were
+married. And I did not love you enough to perjure myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Wretch&mdash;miserable wretch!" cried Alvina. "Alas! to what a fate have I
+been doomed! Ah! why did they not let me rather perish than rear me to
+this doom? My heart is given to Alexis&mdash;my hand to Radetsky!"</p>
+
+<p>"Go down, sweet, to your bridegroom," said the old woman, who was
+totally deaf to her complaints, "or he will seek you here."</p>
+
+<p>Alvina descended to the banquet hall, uncertain what course to pursue.
+Escape appeared impossible, and what little she knew of Radetsky
+convinced her that he was as pitiless and base as her reputed father.
+She sank into a seat, pale, inanimate, and despairing.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment, ere any one present could say a word, a man, white
+with terror, rushed into the hall, and stammered out,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"My lord count!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, fellow? Speak!"</p>
+
+<p>"The Cossacks!" cried the man. And his information was confirmed by a
+loud hurrah, or rather yell, that rose without.</p>
+
+<p>"Raise the drawbridge!" cried the count. "Curses on it!" he added, "I
+had forgotten that drawbridge and portcullis, every means of defence,
+were gone long ago."</p>
+
+<p>"The Cossacks are in the court yard!" cried a second servant, rushing
+in.</p>
+
+<p>"A thousand curses on the dogs!" cried Radetsky, drawing his sword.
+"Count, look to your child; I will to the court yard with your
+fellows, to do what we may."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>By this time the court yard of the castle was filled with uproar and
+turmoil. The clashing of swords was mingled with pistol shots and
+groans, the shouts of triumph and the shrieks of despair. Alvina, left
+alone by her father and Radetsky, trembled not at the prospect of
+approaching death; she felt only joy at her deliverance from the arms
+of a hated bridegroom. But when the crackling of flames was heard,
+when a lurid light streamed up against the window, when wreaths of
+smoke began to pour in from the corridors, the instinct of
+self-preservation awakened in her breast, and almost unconsciously she
+shrieked aloud for help.</p>
+
+<p>Her appeal was answered unexpectedly. A tall, plumed figure dashed
+into the room; a vigorous arm was thrown around her waist, and she was
+lifted from her feet. Her unknown preserver, unimpeded by her light
+weight, passed into the corridor with a fleet step. The grand
+staircase was already on fire, but, drawing his furred cloak closely
+around her, the stranger dashed through the flames, and bore her out
+into the court yard. Almost before she knew it, she was sitting behind
+him on a fiery steed. The rider gave the animal the spur, and he
+dashed through the gate, followed by a hundred wild Cossacks, shouting
+and yelling in the frenzy of their triumph.</p>
+
+<p>Gratitude for an escape from a dreadful death was now banished from
+Alvina's mind by the fear of a worse fate at the hands of these wild
+men.</p>
+
+<p>"You have saved my life," she said to her unknown companion; "do not
+make that life a curse. Take pity on an unfortunate and sorely
+persecuted girl. I have no ransom to pay you; but free me, and you
+will earn my daily prayers and blessings."</p>
+
+<p>"Fear nothing," answered a deep and manly voice. "No<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> harm is intended
+thee; no harm shall befall thee. I swear it on the word of a Cossack
+chieftain."</p>
+
+<p>Alvina was tranquillized at once by the evident sincerity of the
+assurance.</p>
+
+<p>"You are alone now in the world," pursued the stranger "I strove to
+save your bridegroom, but he fell before I reached him."</p>
+
+<p>"I loved him not," answered Alvina, coldly; "I mourn him not."</p>
+
+<p>"You may hate me for the deed," said the stranger, "and I would fain
+escape that woe; but here I vouch it in the face of heaven, Count
+Willnitz fell by my hand. My sabre clove him to the teeth. Years had
+passed, but I could not forget that he once laid the bloody scourge
+upon my back."</p>
+
+<p>"Alexis!" cried Alvina, now recognizing her preserver.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear but unfortunate girl," cried the Cossack leader, turning
+and gazing on the young girl, "I feel that thou art lost to me
+forever. I have slain thy father. Love for thee should have stayed my
+hand; but I had sworn an oath of vengeance, and I kept my vow."</p>
+
+<p>"Alexis," whispered Alvina, "he was not my father. He was my bitterest
+enemy. Nor am I nobly born. Like you, I am an orphan."</p>
+
+<p>"Say you so?" shouted the Cossack. "Then thou art mine&mdash;mine and
+forever&mdash;joy of my youth&mdash;blessing of my manhood!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, thine&mdash;thine only."</p>
+
+<p>"But bethink thee, sweetest," said the Cossack; "I lead a strange wild
+life."</p>
+
+<p>"I will share it with thee," said Alvina, firmly.</p>
+
+<p>"My companions are rude men."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall see only thee."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My home is the saddle, my palace the wide steppe."</p>
+
+<p>"With thee, Alexis, I could be happy any where."</p>
+
+<p>"Then be it so," said the Cossack, joyously. "What ho!" he shouted, at
+the top of his ringing, trumpet-like voice. "Comrades, behold your
+hetman's bride!"</p>
+
+<p>From mouth to mouth the words of the Cossack chieftain were repeated,
+and oft as they were uttered wild shouts of joy rose from the bearded
+warriors; for they had loved the gallant Alexis from the moment when,
+a wayworn, famished, and bleeding fugitive, he came among them. They
+galloped round and round the hetman and his fair companion in dizzying
+circles, like the whirling leaves of autumn, firing their pistols,
+brandishing their lances and sabres, and making the welkin ring with
+their terrific shouts. Alvina clung, terrified, to the waist of her
+lover, and he finally silenced the noisy demonstrations by a wave of
+his hand. Then, under his leadership, and in more regular order, the
+formidable band of horsemen pursued their march to those distant
+solitudes where happiness awaited their chieftain and his bride.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="MARRIED_FOR_MONEY" id="MARRIED_FOR_MONEY"></a>MARRIED FOR MONEY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Jack Cleveland!" exclaimed a fast young man in a drab driving coat
+with innumerable capes, (it was twenty years ago, reader, in the palmy
+days of Tom and Jerry and tandem teams,) as he encountered an equally
+fast young man in Cornhill; "what's the matter with you?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's all over, Frank; I've gone and done it."</p>
+
+<p>"Gone and done what, you spooney?"</p>
+
+<p>"Proposed."</p>
+
+<p>"Proposed what?&mdash;a match at billiards, a trot on the milldam, or a
+main of cocks?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh!&mdash;something more serious," said Cleveland, gravely; "I've
+offered myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Offered yourself? To whom?"</p>
+
+<p>"Widow&mdash;Waffles&mdash;shy name&mdash;never mind&mdash;soon changed&mdash;one hundred and
+fifty thousand&mdash;cool, eh?&mdash;age forty&mdash;good looks&mdash;married for
+money&mdash;sheriff would have it&mdash;no friends&mdash;pockets to let&mdash;pays my
+debts&mdash;sets me up&mdash;house in Beacon Street&mdash;carriage&mdash;can't help it."</p>
+
+<p>"You're a candidate for Bedlam," said Frank; "I've a great mind to
+order you a strait jacket."</p>
+
+<p>"Be my bridesman&mdash;see me off&mdash;eh?" asked Cleveland.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes, of course&mdash;it will be great fun."</p>
+
+<p>And so it was. Jack Cleveland was united to the widow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> Waffles in
+Trinity Church, and a smashing wedding it was. The party that followed
+it was, to use Cleveland's own expressions, "a crusher&mdash;all Boston
+invited&mdash;all Africa waiting&mdash;wax
+lights&mdash;champagne&mdash;music&mdash;ices&mdash;pretty girls&mdash;a bang-up execution."</p>
+
+<p>During the honeymoon Jack Cleveland was all attention to his bride,
+(<i>il faut soigner les anciennes</i>,) but he promised to indemnify
+himself by taking full and complete liberty so soon as that
+interesting period of time had been brought to a close. Besides, his
+chains sat lightly at first; for the widow was one of those splendid
+Lady Blessington kind of women, who at forty have just arrived at the
+imperial maturity of their charms, and she was deeply enamoured of the
+young gentleman whom she had chosen for her second partner in the
+matrimonial speculation. Moreover, she paid the debts of the fast
+young man with an exemplary cheerfulness. The only drawback to this
+gush of felicity was that her property was "tied up;" not a cent could
+Cleveland handle except by permission of his lady. Then she kept him
+as close to her apron strings as she did her Blenheim spaniel; she
+required him to obey her call as promptly as her coachman. Galling to
+his pride though it was, he was even forced to go a shopping with her;
+and the elegant Cleveland, who once thought it degrading to carry an
+umbrella, might be seen loaded with bandboxes, or nonchalantly lilting
+bundles of cashmere shawls. The only difference between Mrs.
+Cleveland's husband and her footman was that he received wages; but
+then the footman could leave when he chose, and there the parallel
+ended. Jack's habits had to submit to a rigid and inexorable
+censorship. "Those odious cigars" were prohibited, and then "his list
+of friends" was challenged. Frank Aikin, the bridesman, was tolerated
+the longest of all, and then he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> "bluffed off" by Mrs. Cleveland,
+who determined to make her husband a domestic man. It was the old
+story of Hercules and Omphale modernized to suit the times.</p>
+
+<p>Jack began to think the happiest day of his life had made him the most
+miserable dog alive, and, like Sir Peter Teazle, "had lost all comfort
+in the world before his friends had done wishing him joy." But his
+debts were paid&mdash;that was a great consolation. Several streets in
+Boston, which were blocked up by creditors, as those of London were to
+the respected Mr. Richard Swiveller, were now opened by the magic wand
+of matrimony. He could exhibit his "Hyperion curls" in Washington
+Street, without any fear of a gentle "reminder" in the shape of a tap
+upon the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>One morning, however, a lady was ushered up into the splendid drawing
+room in Beacon Street, being announced as Madame St. Germain. She was
+a showy French woman, about the same age as Mrs. Cleveland, and the
+latter waited with some curiosity to learn the object of her visit.</p>
+
+<p>"You are Mrs. Cleveland, I believe," said the French woman.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Cleveland bowed in her stateliest manner.</p>
+
+<p>"You have undertaken, I learn, to pay the debts of Monsieur Cleveland,
+contracted before your marriage."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Cleveland bowed again.</p>
+
+<p>"I hold a note of his drawn in my favor for a thousand dollars,
+payable at sight, with interest, dated two years back."</p>
+
+<p>"What was it given for?" asked Mrs. Cleveland, with some asperity.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, madam&mdash;I cannot state that without the permission of your
+husband."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Cleveland applied her hand vigorously to a bell-pull
+communicating with her husband's dressing room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He made his presence in a splendid <i>robe de chambre</i> and a Turkish cap
+with a gold tassel.</p>
+
+<p>"This woman," said his better half, "says you owe her a thousand
+dollars."</p>
+
+<p>"Monsieur cannot deny it," said the French woman, fixing her keen
+black eyes on the thunder-struck Cleveland.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right&mdash;pay her up!" said Mr. Cleveland.</p>
+
+<p>"Not till I know what the debt was incurred for."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't tell you," said Mr. Cleveland.</p>
+
+<p>"I insist," said Mrs. Cleveland, stamping her foot.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I won't tell&mdash;if you die!" said the rebellious Cleveland.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall trouble you, ma'am, to leave my house," said the irritated
+mistress of the mansion. "Not one farthing on that note do you get out
+of me."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I shall be under the unpleasant necessity of taking legal
+measures to obtain the debt," said the French woman, rising. "Mr.
+Cleveland, I wish you very much happiness with your amiable lady."</p>
+
+<p>There was a storm&mdash;a regular equinoctial gale&mdash;after the departure of
+Madame St. Germain. Mrs. Cleveland was very provoking, and Mr.
+Cleveland indulged in epithets unbecoming a scholar and a gentleman.
+That night the "happy couple" luxuriated in separate apartments. The
+next day came a lawyer's letter, then a civil process, and finally Mr.
+John Cleveland was marched off to Leverett Street jail, where, after
+giving due notice to his creditor and obtaining bail, he was allowed
+the benefit of the "limits," with the privilege of "swearing out," at
+the expiration of thirty days.</p>
+
+<p>Jack engaged lodging at a little tavern, on the limits, where he found
+Frank Aikin, who had run through <i>his</i> "pile," and a few kindred
+spirits of the fast young men school<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> enacting the part of "gentlemen
+in difficulties." Cigars, champagne, and cards were ordered, and Jack
+became a fast young man once more. Towards the small hours of the
+morning, he forgot having married a widow, and thinking himself a
+bachelor, he proposed the health of a certain Miss Julia Vining, which
+was drank with three times three. The next morning, he sat down to a
+capital breakfast, with more fast young men, and for a whole week he
+enjoyed himself <i>en gar&ccedil;on</i>, without once thinking of the forsaken
+Dido in Beacon Street.</p>
+
+<p>One day, however, when he had exhausted his cash and credit, and a
+racking headache induced him to regret the speed of his late life, a
+carriage rattled up to the door of the tavern, his own door was
+shortly after thrown open, and a lady flung herself into his arms.
+Mrs. Cleveland looked really fascinating.</p>
+
+<p>"Come home, my dear Jack," said she, bursting into tears; "I've been
+so lonely without you."</p>
+
+<p>"Not so fast, Mrs. Cleveland," said the young gentleman, as he
+perceived his power. "I'm very happy where I am. I can't go back
+except on certain conditions."</p>
+
+<p>"Name them, dearest."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm to smoke as many cigars as I please."</p>
+
+<p>"Granted."</p>
+
+<p>"Not to carry any more bandboxes or tomcats."</p>
+
+<p>"Granted."</p>
+
+<p>"To give a dinner party to the 'boys' once in a while."</p>
+
+<p>"Granted&mdash;granted. And I've paid your note, and opened a cash account
+for you at the bank."</p>
+
+<p>"You are an angel," said Cleveland; "and now it's all over&mdash;that note
+was given Madame St. Germain for tuition of a young girl, Miss Julia
+Vining, whom I educated with the romantic notion of making her my
+wife, when she should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> arrive at a suitable age, at which period she
+ran off with a one-eyed French fiddler, and is now taking in sewing at
+191st Street, New York."</p>
+
+<p>The happy pair went home in their carriage, and we never heard of any
+differences between them. Mrs. Cleveland wears very well, and Mr.
+Cleveland is now an alderman, remarkable chiefly for the ponderosity
+of his person, and the heaviness of his municipal harangues. "Sich is
+life." </p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_EMIGRANT_SHIP" id="THE_EMIGRANT_SHIP"></a>THE EMIGRANT SHIP.</h2>
+
+
+<p>On a summer's day, some years ago, business brought me to one of the
+wharves of this city, at the moment when a ship from Liverpool had
+just arrived, with some two hundred and fifty emigrants, men, women,
+and children, chiefly Irish. Much as I had heard and read of the
+condition of many of the poor passengers, I never fully realized their
+distresses until I personally witnessed them.</p>
+
+<p>Under the most favorable circumstances, the removal of families from
+the land of their birth is attended by many painful incidents. About
+to embark upon a long and perilous voyage, to seek the untried
+hospitalities of a stranger soil, the old landmarks and associations
+which the heartstrings grasp with a cruel tenacity are viewed through
+the mist of tears and agony.</p>
+
+<p>The old church&mdash;the weather-worn homestead&mdash;the ancient school house,
+the familiar play ground, and more sadly dear than all, the green
+graveyard, offer a mute appeal "more eloquent than words." But when to
+these afflictions of the heart are added the pangs of physical
+suffering and privation; when emigrants, in embarking, embark their
+all in the expenses of the voyage, and have no hope, even for
+existence, but in a happy combination of possible chances; when near
+and dear ones must be left behind, certainly to suffer, and probably
+to die,&mdash;the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> pangs of separation embrace all that can be conceived of
+agony and distress.</p>
+
+<p>The emigrant ship whose arrival we witnessed had been seventy odd days
+from port to port. Her passengers were of the poorest class. Their
+means had been nearly exhausted in going from Dublin to Liverpool, and
+in endeavors to obtain work in the latter city, previous to bidding a
+reluctant but eternal farewell to the old country. They came on board
+worn out&mdash;wan&mdash;the very life of many dependent on a speedy passage
+over the Atlantic. In this they were disappointed. The ship had
+encountered a succession of terrific gales; it had leaked badly, and
+they had been confined, a great part of the voyage, to their narrow
+quarters between decks, herded together in a noisome and pestilential
+atmosphere, littered with damp straw, and full of filth.</p>
+
+<p>What marvel that disease and death invaded their ranks? One after
+another, many died and were launched into the deep sea. The ship
+entered Fayal to refit, and there that clime of endless summer proved
+to the emigrants more fatal than the blast of the upas-poisoned valley
+of Java. The delicious oranges, and the mild Pico wine, used liberally
+by the passengers, sowed the seeds of death yet more freely among
+their ranks. On the passage from Fayal, the mortality was dreadful,
+but at length, decimated and diseased, the band of emigrants arrived
+at Boston.</p>
+
+<p>It was a summer's day&mdash;but no cheering ray of light fell upon the
+spires of the city. The sky was dark and gloomy; the bay spread out
+before the eye like a huge sheet of lead, and the clouds swept low and
+heavily over the hills and house tops.</p>
+
+<p>After the vessel was moored, all the passengers who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> were capable of
+moving, or of being moved, came up or were brought up on deck. We
+scanned their wan and haggard features with curiosity and pity.</p>
+
+<p>Here was the wreck of an athletic man. His eyes, deep-sunken in their
+orbits, were nearly as glassy as those of a corpse; his poor attire
+hung loosely on his square shoulders. His matted beard rendered his
+sickly, greenish countenance yet more wan and livid. He crawled about
+the deck <i>alone</i>&mdash;his wife and five children, they for whom he had
+lived and struggled, for whose sake he was making a last desperate
+exertion, had all been taken from him on the voyage. We addressed him
+some questions touching his family.</p>
+
+<p>"They are all gone," said he, "the wife and the childer. The last
+one&mdash;the babby&mdash;died this mornin'&mdash;she lies below. They're best off
+where they are."</p>
+
+<p>In another place sat a shivering, ragged man, the picture of despair.
+A few of his countrymen, who had gathered round him, offered him some
+food. He might have taken it eagerly some days before. <i>Now</i> he gazed
+on vacancy, without noticing their efforts to induce him to take some
+nourishment. Still they persevered, and one held a cooling glass of
+lemonade to his parched lips.</p>
+
+<p>Seated on the after hatchway was a little boy who had that morning
+lost both his parents. He shed no tear. Familiarity with misery had
+deprived him of that sad consolation.</p>
+
+<p>We passed on to a group of Irishmen gathered round an old gray-haired
+man lying at length upon the forward deck. One of them was kneeling
+beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, father!" said he, earnestly, "rouse up, for the love of
+Heaven. See here&mdash;I've brought ye some porridge&mdash;tak a sup ov it&mdash;it
+will give ye heart and life."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sorrow a bit of life's left in the old man any how. Lave him alone,
+Jamie."</p>
+
+<p>"Lift him ashore," said the mate&mdash;"he wants air."</p>
+
+<p>The dying man was carefully lifted on the wharf, and laid down upon a
+plank. His features changed rapidly during the transit. His head now
+fell back&mdash;the pallid hue of death invaded his lips&mdash;his lower jaw
+relaxed&mdash;the staring eyeballs had no speculation in them&mdash;a slight
+shudder convulsed his frame. The son kneeled beside him; closed his
+eyes&mdash;it was all over. And there, in the open air, with no covering to
+shield his reverend locks from the falling rain, passed away the soul
+of the old man from its earthly tabernacle.</p>
+
+<p>The hospital cart arrived. Busy agents lifted into it, with
+professional <i>sang froid</i>, crippled age and tottering childhood. But
+all the spectators of this harrowing scene testified, by their
+expressions, sympathy and sorrow, one low-browed ruffian alone
+excepted.</p>
+
+<p>"Serves 'em right d&mdash;&mdash; n&mdash;&mdash; 'em!" said he, savagely. "Why don't they
+stay at home in their own country, and not come here to take the bread
+out of honest people's mouths?"</p>
+
+<p>Honest, quotha? If ever "flat burglary" and "treason dire" were
+written on a man's face, it stood out in staring capitals upon that
+Cain-like brow.</p>
+
+<p>But there were lights as well as shadows to the picture. Out of that
+grim den of death, out of that floating lazar house, there came a few
+blooming maidens and stalwart youths, like fair flowers springing from
+the rankness of a charnel. Their sorrows were but for the misfortunes
+of others; and even these were a while forgotten in the joy of meeting
+near and dear relatives, and old friends upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> the shore of the
+promised land. They went their way rejoicing, and with them passed the
+solitary ray of sunshine that streamed athwart the dark horrors of the
+emigrant ship, like the wandering pencil of light that sometimes
+visits the condemned cell of a prison.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_LAST_OF_THE_STAGE_COACHES" id="THE_LAST_OF_THE_STAGE_COACHES"></a>THE LAST OF THE STAGE COACHES.</h2>
+
+<h3>A FRAGMENT OF A CLUB-ROOM CONVERSATION.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Did you ever," said the one-eyed gentleman, fixing his single sound
+optic upon us with an intensity which made it glow like one of the
+coals in the grate before us, "did you ever hear how I met with this
+misfortune?"</p>
+
+<p>"What misfortune, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"The misfortune which made a Cyclops of me&mdash;the loss of my left eye."</p>
+
+<p>"Never, sir. Pray how was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Put out by the cinder of a locomotive," growled the one-eyed
+gentleman, seizing the poker and stirring up the fire viciously. "Bad
+things these railroads, sir," he added, when he had demolished a huge
+fragment of sea coal. "Only last week&mdash;little boy playing on bank in
+his father's garden&mdash;little dog ran on the track&mdash;boy went down to
+call him off&mdash;express train came along&mdash;forty-five miles an hour and
+no stoppages&mdash;ran over boy and dog&mdash;agonized parents sought for the
+remains&mdash;nothing found except one shoe, the buckle of his hatband, and
+brass collar of the dog."</p>
+
+<p>"Extraordinary!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir; not extraordinary," said the one-eyed gentleman. "I maintain
+it's a common occurrence. Sir, I keep a railroad journal at home, as
+large as a family Bible. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> is filled with brief accounts&mdash;<i>brief</i>,
+mind you&mdash;of railroad accidents. Next year I shall have to buy another
+book."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you are a decided enemy of railroads?"</p>
+
+<p>"Decided!" said the one-eyed gentleman. "Their prevalence and extent
+is a proof that the age is lapsing into barbarism. Ah! you remember
+the stage coaches?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir," said the one-eyed gentleman, warmly, "travelling was
+travelling in those days; sir, it was a pleasure. The coaches were
+fast enough for any reasonable man; ten miles an hour, including
+stoppages. Ah!" he added, smacking his lips, "what a fine thing it was
+to start on a journey of a glorious October morning, when every thing
+looked bright and smiling! You mounted to the box or the roof, well
+wrapped up in your greatcoat and shawl, with your trunk safely
+strapped upon the rack behind. The driver was a man of
+substance&mdash;solid, of a gravity tempered with humor, a giant in a brown
+box-coat, with gray hat and mittens. How he handled the ribbons and
+took his cattle through Elm Street! How the long bridges rumbled and
+thundered as we bowled along away, away into the country! The country!
+it <i>was</i> the country then; inhabited by country people, not peopled
+with a mixed society of farmers and cits, six o' one and half a dozen
+of t'other. How nicely we glided along! There were birds, in those
+days, singing by the roadside; now the confounded locomotives have
+scared them all off. By and by we came to a tavern. Out rushed a troop
+of hostlers and keepers skilled in horse flesh. The cattle were just
+allowed to wet their lips, water was dashed on their legs and feet,
+and then, after the parcels and papers had been tossed off, away we
+went again. Five miles farther on, we pulled up to change. The fresh
+team was led out, bright, shining, and glittering, in tip-top
+condition.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> The driver descended to stretch his legs and personally
+superintend the putting to of the fresh horses. When he mounted the
+box again, his experienced eye glanced rapidly at the team, and then,
+with an 'all right&mdash;let 'em go!' we were on the road once more."</p>
+
+<p>The one-eyed gentleman paused, after this flow of eloquence, and gazed
+pensively into the midst of the glowing coals. After a few moments'
+silence, he resumed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Rather a singular occurrence happened to me last year on the 14th of
+October, about half past twelve, P.M. I am thus particular about
+dates, because this event is one that forms an era in my life. I had
+been driving across the country in my gig, to visit a friend who had
+recently moved upon a farm. The localities were new to me, and the
+roads blind. Guideboards were few, and human beings fewer. In short, I
+got astray, and hadn't the remotest conception of what part of the
+country I was in. It was a cold, cloudy day, with a sort of drizzling
+Scotch mist that wet one to the bone. I plodded along in hopes of soon
+reaching some tavern, where I could bait my horse and get some dinner
+for myself. All at once, at a turn of the road, just after having
+crossed the Concord River, I perceived a stage coach coming towards
+me. I had heard no noise of wheels or horses' feet; but there it was.
+The road was narrow, and the coachman pulled up to let me work my way
+past. The vehicle was a queer old affair, that looked as if it had
+been dug out of some antediluvian stable yard. The curtains were brown
+with age and dust, and riddled with holes; the body was bare and
+worm-eaten, and the springs perfectly green with mould. The horses
+were thin and lank, and the harness in as sorry a condition as the
+coach. The driver's clothes, which were very old fashioned, hung about
+him in loose folds, and he gazed upon me with a strange, stony<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> stare
+that was absolutely appalling; yet his lips unclosed as I worked past
+him, and he exclaimed in a harsh, croaking voice, 'One eye!' Thereupon
+two or three queer people poked their heads out of the coach window.
+There was one old woman with false teeth, in an unpleasant state of
+decay, and a voice like a parrot. 'One eye!' she shrieked, as she
+gazed on me with an eye as stony as the coachman. A pale, simpering
+miss smirked in my face, and cried, 'One eye!' and a military
+gentleman, with a ghastly frown, hissed forth the same words. I should
+have scrutinized the queer coach and the queer people closer, had not
+my horse&mdash;my good, old, quiet, steady horse&mdash;seized the bit in his
+mouth and started off at a dead run. I tried to saw him up, but it was
+no use; he ran for a couple of miles, and did not slacken till he had
+brought me to the door of an old, decayed tavern, where I resigned him
+to the charge of a lame hostler, and made my way into the house in
+search of the landlord. I found him at last&mdash;a poor, poverty-pinched
+man, who had been ruined by the railroad. He complained bitterly of
+the hard times. 'But,' said I, 'you must have some custom; the stage
+coaches&mdash;&mdash;' 'Bless your soul,' replied he, 'there hasn't been a coach
+on this road for fifteen years.' 'What do you, mean?' said I; 'I met a
+coach and passengers two miles back, near the river.' The landlord
+turned pale. 'What day is this?' he asked. 'The 14th of October.' 'The
+14th of October!' cried the landlord; 'I remember that date well. That
+day, fifteen years since, was the last trip of the old mail coach. It
+left here, with Bill Snaffle, the driver, and three insides, a
+military man, an old woman, and a young lady. They were never heard of
+after they left here. Their trail was followed as far as the bridge.
+It is supposed that the horses got frightened at something, and backed
+off into the Concord<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> River. But I have heard,' added the landlord, in
+a hollow whisper, 'that on this anniversary the ghost of that coach
+and company may be seen upon the turnpike. More, I will tell you, in
+confidence, that I have seen them myself.' After this I was convinced
+that I had been favored&mdash;if favor it may be called&mdash;with a spiritual
+visitation."</p>
+
+<p>The one-eyed gentleman looked me full in the face, as if to say, "What
+do you think of it?" It was useless to argue with him; so I only shook
+my head. He nodded his in a very mysterious manner, and fell to poking
+the fire with redoubled activity; and I bade him good night, and left
+him to pursue his occupation.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_SEXTON_OF_ST_HUBERTS" id="THE_SEXTON_OF_ST_HUBERTS"></a>THE SEXTON OF ST. HUBERT'S.</h2>
+
+<h3>A STORY OF OLD ENGLAND.</h3>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+<h3>THE QUEEN OF THE MAY.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In a remote region in the northern part of England, the people still
+cherish an attachment to old usages and sports, and hold the
+observance of Christmas, May-day, and other time-honored festivals, a
+sacred obligation. One village, in particular, is famous for its
+May-day sports, which, as the curate is a little withered antiquary,
+are conducted with great ceremony and fidelity to old authorities. The
+May-pole is brought home, garlanded, and decked with ribbons, to the
+sound of pipe and tabor, surrounded by a laughing throng of sturdy
+yeomen and buxom maidens. It is erected on the great green, in the
+centre of the village, to the universal delight of old and young, and
+the dancing commences round it with high glee. The scene presented is
+like that described by Goldsmith,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Where all the village train, from labor free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While many a pastime circled in the shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The young contending as the old surveyed;<br /></span>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span><span class="i0">And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sleights of art and feats of strength went round."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It was a delightful spring, that of 17&mdash;, and a softer sky never
+before smiled upon the village-green of Redwood, upon the 1st of May;
+and among the merry damsels dancing round the May-pole, no heart was
+happier, and no step was lighter, than that of Margaret Ellis, who,
+for the first time, joined in the sports of the day. She was a child
+of May, and this was the sixteenth anniversary of her birthday. A gay
+brunette, her sparkling eyes had all the fire and the mirth of the
+sunny and passionate south, while no lighter or more delicate foot
+than hers could have been found upon the merry green. A rich bloom
+mantled on her cheek, her lips were fresh and red, and her regular
+teeth, displayed as she panted in the dance, were white as unsullied
+snow. A tight little bodice, and a milk-white frock, set off the
+charms of her person in the best manner. Then there was an air of
+gayety and innocence about her which delighted every good-natured
+observer; and all the villagers allowed that Margaret Ellis deserved
+the tiara of flowers that crowned her Queen of the May. She blushed at
+the tokens of good will and approbation, as she placed her hand in
+that of a young and rustic stranger, who led her off triumphantly at
+the head of the dancers. The youth was fair-haired, ruddy, athletic,
+and active; and those who saw them in the dance could not help
+acknowledging that they were a lovely pair.</p>
+
+<p>There was one who regarded them with eyes of jealous displeasure. This
+was a man of forty, of a handsome face and figure, but swarthy,
+dark-haired, and melancholy. He bent over the seat upon which old
+Farmer Ellis and his dame were seated, and whispered, "Do you know the
+young man who is dancing with your daughter?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ah! he be a right good young mon, I warrant me," said the dame. "He
+do come fra the next county. William Evans, he calls himself."</p>
+
+<p>"He calls himself!&mdash;umph!" muttered the person who had first spoken.
+"But what do others call him? Who knows any thing about him? Who can
+vouch for his character? I would not suffer a daughter of mine to be
+gadding about, and dancing with a stranger."</p>
+
+<p>"Whoy, for the matter o' that," said Farmer Ellis, "you were nought
+but a stranger yourself, when you first did come to see us, Maister
+Pembroke. We didn't know you were the sexton of St. Hubert's. And yet
+you turned out a right good friend to me, mon; for when ye first knew
+me, things were deadly cross wi' me. What wi' the rot among my sheep,
+and the murrain among my cattle, I were all but ruined. Short crops
+and a hard landlord are bitter bad things. But you were the salvation
+of me, and I'll work my fingers to the bone, but what you shall have
+your own again, John Pembroke."</p>
+
+<p>"There is one way in which you can liquidate your debt."</p>
+
+<p>"Name it, Maister Pembroke," said the farmer, eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"No matter," muttered the sexton, and a hollow sigh escaped his lips.
+"I had an idea, but it is gone. Touching the stranger, in whom you
+both repose such confidence. In what manner does he earn his daily
+bread?"</p>
+
+<p>"Whoy," said the farmer, "in the way that Adam did, mon. He do say he
+is a gardener."</p>
+
+<p>"A likely tale!" ejaculated the sexton. "Look at his hands. Why, his
+fingers are delicate and white. Your gardener has horny fingers, and a
+palm of iron."</p>
+
+<p>"Dang it! so they be!" cried Ellis. "Well, I never noticed that afore.
+Whoy, dame, he may be an impostor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> And though he be so cruel koind,
+and deadly fond of the girl, now, he may forsake&mdash;may&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Look at, them, now," said the sexton of St. Hubert's. "See how he
+grasps her hand; and how, as he whispers his soft, insinuating
+flattery in her ear, she blushes and smiles upon him. Damnation!"</p>
+
+<p>"Whoy, John!" exclaimed Dame Ellis; "what would the rector say to hear
+thee? Thou art surely distraught."</p>
+
+<p>And now, as Margaret, flushed and panting with exercise, was suffering
+her partner to lead her towards her seat, her father beckoned her to
+approach.</p>
+
+<p>"Come hither, girl," said he. The smiling maiden obeyed. "Margaret,"
+said the old man, "thou knowest I love thee. I ha' always been cruel
+koind to thee, and so has thy mother, girl. If any harm was to happen
+to thee, I should take it desperately to heart. I should, indeed. It
+would kill thy father, Margaret. Now, William Evans may be a good
+young man, and he may not; but we must beware of strangers. Wait till
+we have tried him a bit. Many a handsome nag turns out a vicious one.
+So it be my pleasure, and the dame's, that thou dost not dance any
+more to-day wi' William Evans; and even if he speaks to thee, be a
+little offish loike to him."</p>
+
+<p>The poor girl sighed. "I hope, sir," said she, glancing at the sexton,
+"that no person possessed of an unhappy and suspicious temper has been
+prejudicing you against poor William. I hope Mr. Pembroke&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, girl&mdash;hush!" cried Ellis. "Doant thee say a word against that
+man. But for him we mought all ha' been beggars. Do as I bid thee,
+girl, and doan't thee ask no questions; for you know I've got no head
+to argury."</p>
+
+<p>Margaret slowly sank into a seat. The sexton leaned over her, and
+addressed to her some commonplace remarks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> to all of which she
+returned answer in monosyllables. When the music recommenced a lively
+air, William advanced, and solicited her hand for the next dance. Poor
+Margaret bent her eyes upon the ground, and falteringly refused.
+Thinking he could not have heard her rightly, Evans again asked the
+question, and received, a second time, the same answer. For a moment
+his countenance expressed astonishment; the next there was a look of
+grief, and then his lip curled, and drawing himself up proudly, he
+stalked away. He was followed by the sexton of St. Hubert's, who
+overtook him, and laid his hand upon his shoulder. William turned
+fiercely, and endeavored to shake off the grasp.</p>
+
+<p>"Young man," said the sexton, "you are discovered!"</p>
+
+<p>"Discovered!" exclaimed William. "What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"You understand me," said the sexton; "your manners, your language,
+your figure, contradict the story you have fabricated. Margaret shall
+never be your victim. With her your boasted arts are valueless!"</p>
+
+<p>"If you were a gentleman&mdash;&mdash;" said William.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha, ha!" laughed the sexton of St. Hubert's. "Is this the resentment
+of a rustic? Go, young man; you have exposed yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Remove your hand!" said the young man; "and think it unusual
+forbearance on my part, that I do not chastise you as you deserve. We
+shall meet again, and with a sterner greeting." So they parted.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+<h3>THE GYPSY CAMP.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The clear, unshadowed sun, as it declined towards the western verge of
+the horizon, shone brightly upon the gypsy encampment, a few miles
+from Redwood. The wandering tribe had displayed their proverbial
+taste, in their selection of a spot wherein to pitch their tents. A
+green and glossy pasture was partly surrounded by a luxuriant forest
+of ancient oaks, which supplied the crew with firewood; while a
+beautiful and clear stream, the pride and boast of the county, curved
+into the waving grass land, and kept it ever fresh and verdant. Here
+and there its silvery bosom reflected a small tent, or the figure of
+an idler, bending over the bank, with fishing rod in hand, a perfect
+picture of patience and philosophy. Half a dozen tents served to
+accommodate the gregarious fraternity; and though the sail cloths
+which composed them were worn and weather-beaten, yet their brown hues
+harmonized well with the rich tints of the landscape, and showed
+distinct enough against the dark background of the forest. As the
+shades of the evening darkened the ancestral trees, a line of fire was
+lit up, the flames of which glared ruddily against the huge trunks of
+the woodland, and played and flickered in the rippling stream. Huge
+kettles, suspended on forked sticks, were beginning to send up a
+savory steam; and several swarthy beings, lounging round the fires,
+occasionally fed them, or basking in the blaze, watched the bubbling
+of the caldrons with intense anxiety. Even the king of the gypsies
+observed the preparations for supper with an eager air, which ill
+assorted with his lofty forehead and reverend white<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> beard. Every
+moment some stroller would come in with a pilfered fowl, or a basket
+of eggs; and each addition to the feast was hailed with shouts of
+applause by the swarthy crew.</p>
+
+<p>Somewhat remote from this scene of bustle and noise, at the door of a
+small tent, sat two female gypsies. One of these was the queen, an
+aged crone, who, though bent with age and care, and wrinkled by time
+and the indulgence of vehement passions, yet prided herself upon the
+unfrosted darkness of her raven tresses, which fell over her shoulders
+in profusion. A turban of rich crimson cloth crowned her head, and a
+shawl of the same color and material was wrapped around her shoulders.
+Her skinny hands were supported by a silver-headed staff, which was
+covered with quaint carvings. Her gown was of dark serge, and her
+shoes were pointed, and turned up in the Oriental fashion, and
+garnished with broad silver buckles. She sat apart, and the rising
+moon shone down upon her dusky figure, and threw her wild features
+into bold relief. At her feet sat a beautiful girl, with dark Grecian
+features, and a full, voluptuous form. She, too, had long, flowing,
+raven tresses, into which were twisted strings of pearl. From a
+necklace of topaz hung a little silver crucifix, resting upon a full
+and heaving bust, to which was fitted a close jacket, made of
+deep-blue cloth, and fastened together with loops and silver buttons.
+Her soft and round arms were naked, save at the shoulders, and her
+wrists were encircled with tarnished gold bracelets. Her white
+petticoat was short enough to display a well-turned ankle, and a small
+foot, encased in neat black slippers. Her features, dark and
+sun-browned, showed to more advantage in the pale moonlight than they
+would have done in the broad blaze of day. The gypsy girl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> sat at the
+feet of the queen, and looking up in her face, listened attentively to
+her discourse.</p>
+
+<p>"Myra," said the queen of the gypsies, "do you love him yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Love him!" repeated the girl. "Yes, mother&mdash;passionately. To obtain
+his hand&mdash;his heart, I would peril every thing!"</p>
+
+<p>"Strange and mysterious passion!" said the crone, "which defies reason
+and law. Many years agone I loved with the same intense devotion. The
+same fiery blood courses in your veins; the same contempt of
+obstacles. Yet the man I loved was nobler and prouder than the sexton
+of St. Hubert's. We lived among the Gitanos of Spain, when we were
+wedded. Five sons I bore to the partner of my cares. Where are they?
+One followed his father to the gibbet; a second hurled defiance at his
+enemies, as he perished in the flames of an <i>auto da fe</i>; the third
+and fourth died in the galleys; the fifth&mdash;the fifth, Myra&mdash;my best
+beloved, my brave, my beautiful, received his death wound in defending
+me from outrage. <i>You are his child!</i> Judge, then, how I love you, my
+daughter. You love the sexton of St. Hubert's&mdash;he shall marry you."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, mother!" said the gypsy girl, "I fear me he is lost. He is the
+accepted lover of Margaret Ellis. She did love a young stranger; but
+the sexton of St. Hubert's has Farmer Ellis in his debt, and
+threatened to throw him in jail, if the latter did not grant him the
+hand of his daughter. He has done so, and the wedding day is fixed.
+Alas! before he saw his May-day queen, he loved me, and promised to
+marry me. Often beneath that very moon, mother, has he sat and told me
+his love. When I smiled at his protestations, he would speak of his
+wealth, and tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> me of hidden stores of gold, for a thrifty and a
+rich man is the sexton of St. Hubert's. I do not love him less because
+he does not frown upon our wandering tribe, but has lax principles
+that suit the fiery passions of our race. I know not in what consists
+the art by which he won me; it is enough for me to know that I am
+devoted to him. Alas! that knowledge is too much, since he has owned
+the fascination of the Queen of the May."</p>
+
+<p>"Enough said, daughter!" cried the crone. "Before the altar he shall
+marry you. He shall love you better than he loves the May queen. What
+are her attractions when compared to yours? Praise from the old is
+little to the young; yet let me say that I have wandered east and
+west, north and south; have seen the Georgian and Sicilian maids, have
+seen the dark-haired girls of Naples, and the donnas of Madrid; yet
+never did these aged eyes rest on a finer form or face than yours, my
+daughter."</p>
+
+<p>The gypsy girl smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay," said the old woman, "now you look lovelier than ever. That smile
+is like a sunbeam to my heart; it thaws the frost of age. Believe me,
+Myra, the sexton of St. Hubert's shall adore you."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you must have love charms," said the gypsy girl, blushing.</p>
+
+<p>"Love charms I have," said the old woman, "and those of wondrous
+potency. We are a favored race, Myra. Descended from the old
+Egyptians, we inherit their mysterious learning. To a few among us,
+the queens and magi of our tribes, there has come down a knowledge of
+charms and medicine, and some of the secrets of astrology. Go, Myra;
+leave me. I will provide for your peace. Yes, yes, I have love charms.
+I have them!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The gypsy girl smiled, rose, kissed the hand of her grandmother, and
+then bounded away like a fawn.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor child!" muttered the old woman, when alone; "she must not die of
+a broken heart. Love charms, did she say! Yes&mdash;I have them for fools;
+but the love charm I shall use to give her joy is poison. The
+betrothed bride of the sexton of St. Hubert's lies ill of an unknown
+malady. The physicians cannot do her good, for she is sick of a
+wounded heart. To-night the sexton of St. Hubert's, who has faith in
+my skill, comes to seek a remedy. He shall have one. Does he think to
+spurn the poor gypsy girl? He is mistaken. He plighted his troth to
+her in the silence of the forest; they broke a piece of gold across a
+running brook; they swore truth and fidelity! One has broken the oath,
+but it shall be sworn anew. None but Myra shall wed the sexton of St.
+Hubert's!"</p>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER III.</h3>
+
+<h3>RETRIBUTION.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was a fierce and stormy night. The wind howled around the houses of
+Redwood, and wherever a shutter had lost its fastening, it flapped to
+and fro with a frequent and alarming sound. The rain, too, descended
+in torrents, and flooded the streets of the village, while ever and
+anon heavy peals of thunder and vivid flashes of lightning increased
+the terror of the night. In the house of Farmer Ellis a few persons
+were assembled to witness the bridal of the sexton of St. Hubert's.
+The bridegroom was as one excited by wine, for there was a wild
+radiance in his eyes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> and an unwonted smile upon his lips, and he
+occasionally gave utterance to some jest, and when it failed of
+producing the expected mirth, his own laugh sounded hollow and
+strange. The bride, too, so pearly pale, in her white dress, with
+white roses in her hair, seemed like the bride of Corinth in the
+German tale. A few of the guests, huddled anxiously together,
+whispered among themselves, "It is a churchyard bridal."</p>
+
+<p>Still the cake and wine went round, and the strange laugh of the
+bridegroom was more frequent. The night wore on, and the arrival of
+the clergyman was prolonged far beyond the expected time. At length he
+came, and the ceremony was about to take place, when the bride
+suddenly sank in the arms of her companions. They raised her, and
+applied the usual remedies resorted to in cases of fainting, but the
+vital spark itself had fled.</p>
+
+<p>In the depth of a stormy night, the sexton of St. Hubert's sought the
+queen of the gypsies. He was mounted on an active horse, and
+accompanied by the sheriff of the county and a few resolute men, well
+mounted and armed to the teeth. As he approached the river which
+bounded the gypsy camp upon one side, the sexton looked in vain for a
+guiding light&mdash;no fires blazed upon the green, no hidden glare was
+reflected in the mirror of the stream. Still he spurred on his horse,
+and followed hard by his companions, gallantly forded the stream and
+crossed the open meadows. The tents had all been struck, and no sound
+was heard in that deserted place, except the rushing of the boisterous
+wind and the tinkling of the raindrops as they fell upon the river.
+The parties reined up their horses, and the sexton and the sheriff
+held a brief conference together. While they were yet conversing, a
+broad and brilliant blaze shot up from the centre of the forest,
+illuminating a wide<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> and well-trodden path which led directly to the
+light. The first flash of radiance dazzled the eyes of the horsemen,
+but when they became accustomed to the glare, they beheld distinctly
+several wild forms lounging around the fire, evidently unconscious of
+the approach of danger.</p>
+
+<p>"Now is our time, my lads," said the sheriff, in a low tone. "Forward,
+and we shall have them all."</p>
+
+<p>Every rowel was instantly employed, and the party pushed forward at a
+gallop. Bowing their heads to avoid the swaying branches, they bent
+over their horses' necks in the intense ardor of pursuit. The sheriff
+and the sexton rode side by side, and had nearly attained their
+object, when their horses fell suddenly, and threw them to the ground
+with violence. In fine, the whole party had stumbled upon pitfalls dug
+for them, and not a horseman of the troop escaped an overthrow. While
+they were rolling on the ground, entangled in the stirrups, and
+receiving severe injuries from the struggling horses, a shrill cry
+arose from the depth of the woods, and a dozen stout ruffians set upon
+them, seized, and pinioned them. The sexton and the sheriff were
+conducted by two of the gang to the presence of the gypsy queen, who
+sat upon a rude form raised upon the trunk of a huge oak, and
+sheltered by an ample awning of oiled cloth. The sheriff's followers
+were borne away in another direction. The wild woman and her wilder
+attendants were perfectly distinct in the ruddy firelight, though the
+whole scene had, to the eyes of the victims, the appearance of a
+vision of night.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sirs," said the queen, "you came to see us, and you have found
+us. Have you not some message for us? You myrmidon of the law, have
+you no greeting for the queen of the gypsies?"</p>
+
+<p>The sheriff looked at the queen and then at her attend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>ants. They were
+fierce-looking, unshorn fellows, with butchers' knives stuck in their
+rope girdles, and seemed but to await a nod from her tawny majesty to
+employ their formidable weapons.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you nothing for us?" asked the dark lady.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," said the sheriff, faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ho, ho!" laughed the wrinkled crone. "The man of law is forgetful.
+You, <i>Dommerar</i>, search him, and see if he speaks the truth."</p>
+
+<p>A sandy-haired little fellow advanced at the summons, and rifled the
+pockets of the sheriff with a dexterity which proved him an adept in
+the business. A teacher of music would have envied his fingering.
+Having caused the pockets of the sheriff to disgorge, he thus, in the
+canting language, enumerated their contents:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>moabite's ribbin runs thin</i>, (the sheriff's cash runs low.) He
+has no <i>mint</i>, (gold,) and only a <i>mopus</i> or two."</p>
+
+<p>"Fool!" said the queen, "has he no paper?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, ay, missus, here's his <i>fiddle</i>," (writ,) was the answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Give it me," cried the queen. "Here, you <i>patrico</i>, our eyes are bad.
+Read this scrawl, and acquaint us with the contents."</p>
+
+<p>The <i>patrico</i>, or hedge priest, a fellow in a rusty, black suit, with
+a beard of three weeks' growth, bleared eyes, and a red, Bardolph
+nose, took the writ, which he had more difficulty in reading than Tony
+Lumpkin, when he received the letter of Hastings. At first, he held it
+upside down, then reversed it, looking at it at arm's length, and then
+gave it a closer scrutiny. He finally gave it as his opinion, that it
+empowered the <i>queer-cuffin</i> (so he termed the sheriff) to seize upon
+the so called queen of the gypsies, accused of the crime of murder,
+and also to apprehend her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> followers. When he had concluded, the old
+crone snatched the writ from his hand, and, tearing it to pieces,
+flung the fragments into the face of the sheriff.</p>
+
+<p>"Take him away," said she, "and leave us alone with the sexton of St.
+Hubert's. Guard him well, for we wish to show him how we administer
+justice among us. We will be judge and jury, and our <i>upright man</i>
+shall be the executioner."</p>
+
+<p>She waved her tawny hand with the air of a princess dismissing her
+courtiers, and her mandate was obeyed. She was left alone with the
+sexton of St. Hubert's. Looking him steadily in the face, she said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"John Pembroke, I give you joy of your marriage."</p>
+
+<p>"Wretched woman!" said the sexton, "you poisoned her. By your hand she
+died."</p>
+
+<p>"You are mistaken," answered the old woman, with a bitter smile. "She
+is not dead, but sleepeth. You see the devil can quote Scripture. It
+was my first intention to have poisoned her; but my second thoughts
+were better. So, instead of the medicine you sought, I gave you a
+powerful narcotic, which has thrown her into a deep sleep. She lies,
+at this moment, you know, in the chapel of St. Hubert's. There are
+flowers on her coffin, and there is a shroud around her. If I am not
+very much mistaken, about this hour she awakes."</p>
+
+<p>"And perishes! Fiend in human shape, how you have deceived me! At this
+hour, remote from help, my Margaret is dying."</p>
+
+<p>"She is not your Margaret, neither is she dying," said the crone.
+"Listen to me. I sent a trusty messenger to him that Margaret
+loves&mdash;to him who loves her fondly and faithfully&mdash;and if all things
+have gone as well as I antici<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>pate, by this time she is in his arms.
+The draught she drank is harmless."</p>
+
+<p>"Cursed deceiver!" cried the sexton, struggling frantically to free
+himself from the ligatures which bound him. "You have done an accursed
+deed. You have deprived me of my betrothed bride."</p>
+
+<p>"Your betrothed bride!" said the queen of the gypsies. "Behold her!"
+She waved her hand, and Myra stood before the sexton of St. Hubert's.
+"There she stands," said the gypsy. "Have you forgotten that your
+troth is plighted to her? The bride and the priest are ready. Man of
+guilt and passion, wed her you may, wed her you must!"</p>
+
+<p>"Never!" cried the sexton. "When I sought your lawless crew to indulge
+my love of revelling and pleasure, the person of Myra lighted a fire
+in my breast. But it was an unholy flame. I will never marry her. Let
+her live&mdash;live to be branded with infamy and disgrace!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ha!" cried the crone, rising from her seat. "Is it so? Speak, Myra!
+child of my heart, is it so?"</p>
+
+<p>The gypsy girl clasped her hands together, and hung her head in shame.
+Her cheeks were suffused with crimson; then they became deadly pale,
+and she sank lifeless on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"You have killed her!" shrieked the gypsy queen, "and dearly shall you
+rue it."</p>
+
+<p>She placed a whistle to her lips, and blew a shrill blast. But she
+received a far different answer than she had anticipated; for one of
+the sheriff's men had succeeded in escaping from the hands of the
+gypsy crew, and galloped to the neighboring town, where a troop of
+horse was quartered. The commanding officer instantly repaired to the
+gypsy camp, where he arrived in time to apprehend the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> crew before
+they had committed any act of violence. The sexton of St. Hubert's did
+not long survive this night, and Myra became a maniac. The fate of the
+lovers we shall next describe.</p>
+
+<p>When the lover of Margaret received the message of the queen of the
+gypsies, he repaired to the spot where his mistress lay, to all
+appearance, in the arms of death. But life had not departed; and even
+as he hung gazing over her, a faint color mounted to her cheek, and
+her bosom began to heave beneath her white garment. He raised her in
+his arms, bore her to the air, and she revived. When her senses were
+fully restored, she consented to guard against another separation by
+marrying her lover and savior. William had provided a humble
+post-chaise to convey his bride far from the scene of her past perils
+and temptations. They journeyed by slow stages to the north, and at
+the close of a few days entered a romantic village. The lover
+bridegroom pointed out a gray and noble old pile, the turrets of which
+rose lofty above the waving trees of an ancient park. He asked if she
+should like to visit it. She replied in the affirmative, and they
+drove, unchallenged, through the gateway and along a noble avenue
+shaded by huge oaks. When they reached the portals of the building,
+the post-boy stopped the horses, dismounted, threw open the door of
+the chaise, and let down the steps. William lifted his companion from
+her seat in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Margaret," said he, "look up. This is Woodley Castle, and you are
+Lady Armitage."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="JACK_WITHERS" id="JACK_WITHERS"></a>JACK WITHERS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Every body liked Jack Withers. He was a handsome, active young fellow
+of five-and-twenty, of a good family, an orphan, who came into
+possession of thirty thousand dollars when he came of age. In this age
+of California gold, when fortunes are made by shovelling dust, and the
+wonders of Aladdin's treasure house are realized by men of no capital
+but pickaxes and muscles, thirty thousand dollars does not seem a
+prodigious sum. Yet our great-grandfathers retired from business on
+that amount, and were thought, at least, comfortably well off; and
+even nowadays, thirty thousand dollars, judiciously managed, will keep
+a man out of the poorhouse, and give him a clean shirt and a leg of
+mutton for his lifetime. But poor Jack was not a judicious manager,
+and a tandem team and champagne suppers, with a shooting-box and turf
+speculations, soon made ducks and drakes of a little fortune. Thus at
+twenty-five, our friend Jack was <i>minus</i>; or, in the elegant
+phraseology of the day, "a gentleman at large with pockets to let."</p>
+
+<p>When a man's riches have taken wings and <i>vamosed</i>, when all his old
+uncles are used up, and he has no prospective legacy to fall back
+upon, he is generally cut by the acquaintances of his prosperous days.
+The memory of "what he used to was" is seldom cherished, and the
+unhappy victim of prodigality discovers to his sorrow, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"'Tis a very good world that we live in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lend, or to spend, or to give in;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to beg, or to borrow, or get a man's own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">'Tis the very worst world, sir, that ever was known."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>Jack, however, was not destined to drink the cup of this bitter
+experience. He was just as popular and just as much courted without a
+penny in his pocket, as he was when he possessed the means to be
+extravagant, when he</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Spread to the liberal air his silken sails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lavished guineas like a Prince of Wales."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The secret of his prodigious popularity was his obliging disposition.
+His time and talents&mdash;and he had plenty of the former, and no lack of
+the latter&mdash;were always at the service of his friends; and though the
+idlest dog in the world when his own affairs were in question, in the
+cause of his friends he was the busiest man alive. Thus he fairly won
+his dinners, his rides, his drives, and his opera tickets&mdash;they were
+trifling commissions on his benevolent transactions.</p>
+
+<p>"Jack," one fellow would say, "my horse is too confoundedly high
+strung, and only half broke. He threw me yesterday."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll ride him for you, Bill," would be the ready reply; "give me your
+spurs, and I'll give him a lesson."</p>
+
+<p>And away he would go, without a thought of his neck, to mount a
+restive rascal that had half killed the rough rider of a cavalry
+regiment.</p>
+
+<p>"Jack," another would say, "I've got an awkward affair on hand with
+Lieutenant &mdash;&mdash;; he fancies I've insulted him, and has thrown out dark
+hints about coffee and pistols."</p>
+
+<p>"Make yourself perfectly easy, my boy; I'll bring him to reason or
+fight him myself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>So Jack had his hands full of business. Well, one dreary, desolate
+afternoon in March, when the barbs of all the vanes in the city were
+looking pertinaciously eastward, and people were shivering over
+anthracite grates, Jack Withers "might have been seen," as James would
+say, seated in the little back parlor of the coffee room in School
+Street, sipping Mocha with his particular friend Bill Bliffins, who
+had an especial claim upon his kindness, from the fact that he had
+already extricated Bill from scrapes innumerable.</p>
+
+<p>Mocha is a great prompter of social and kindly feelings, and prompts,
+in <i>t&ecirc;te-&agrave;-t&ecirc;tes</i>, to that unreserved confidence on one part, and that
+obliging interest on the other, which unite two congenial and kindred
+spirits in adamantine bonds.</p>
+
+<p>"Jack," said Bill, smiting the marble table emphatically, "you are my
+best friend."</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh, pooh! you flatter me," said Jack, blushing like a peony; "I've
+never done any thing for you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you have, and you know it," persisted Bliffins. "Didn't you
+fight Lieutenant Jenkins, of the Salamander, when I ought to have
+fought him myself? Haven't you endorsed my notes when nobody else
+would back my paper?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do it again, my boy," said Jack, with a gush of enthusiastic
+feeling.</p>
+
+<p>"Ahem! your name on short or long paper isn't exactly what it used to
+be," said Bill, rather unfeelingly, perhaps.</p>
+
+<p>"True, true," returned Jack, in a more subdued tone; "I haven't got
+many friends left in the synagogues."</p>
+
+<p>"But what you have done, Jack," continued Bliffins, with enthusiasm,
+"emboldens me to trespass yet further on your patience."</p>
+
+<p>"With all my heart," said Jack; and there was no reser<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>vation implied
+in the hearty tone in which the words were uttered.</p>
+
+<p>"Then listen to my story, as the postilion of Longjumeau sings. Hear
+me for my cause, and be silent that you may hear."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be mute as the codfish in the House of Representatives."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then," said Bill, in a solemn tone, "I'm dead broke."</p>
+
+<p>"Dead broke?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I'm running on my last hundred."</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible!"</p>
+
+<p>"True, though, for all that. Yet my circumstances are not so
+desperate, either. There's a vacant clerkship in the secretary of
+state's office; and the governor has been sounded, and I think he
+might be disposed to give it to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Go to him at once, then, my dear boy. If he wants any reference, send
+him to me. I'll endorse your character, as I used to your paper when
+my name was worth something on 'change. Go to him at once."</p>
+
+<p>"It's easy to say it, Jack; but the fact is, that I have such a
+confounded hesitating address that I fear I should make an unfavorable
+impression, and ruin my cause; whereas, if a plausible, voluble fellow
+like yourself could get his ear and plead for me, my appointment would
+be certain. Now will you&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Call on the governor? With all my heart&mdash;consider the thing settled."</p>
+
+<p>"That's not all; you must be my advocate in another quarter. I'm over
+head and ears in love with Juliet Trevor&mdash;Trapp &amp; Trevor&mdash;W. I. Goods,
+wholesale. You know the firm?"</p>
+
+<p>"Like a book."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I want you to see the girl and the old people; I haven't confidence
+to propose in person. You can do it for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"With all my heart. I give you joy of the clerkship and the
+girl&mdash;they're yours."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm eternally obliged, Jack."</p>
+
+<p>"Not the least, my boy&mdash;always ready to serve my friends. By the way,
+have you got any money about your clothes? I invited you to take
+coffee, but I forgot my purse in my other trousers&mdash;no change, you
+know."</p>
+
+<p>"There, get this V changed," said Bliffins, handing him a bank note.</p>
+
+<p>Jack took the note and walked up to the counter.</p>
+
+<p>"Coffee and pie for two, my dear" said he to the attendant. "It's all
+right&mdash;you know me&mdash;pay next time&mdash;Withers and friend. Come, Bill,
+I've fixed it."</p>
+
+<p>"But the change!" said Bill.</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind the change&mdash;morrow do as well. By, by,&mdash;<i>au revoir</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Remember the governor!"</p>
+
+<p>"All right, my boy."</p>
+
+<p>"And Juliet!"</p>
+
+<p>"Make yourself easy."</p>
+
+<p>So they parted. The next day, Jack sent in his card to the governor at
+the Adams House, and followed the pasteboard before the message could
+be returned. The governor received his visitor with his usual
+urbanity.</p>
+
+<p>"Good quarters, governor!" said Jack, looking round him as he dropped
+into a rocking chair, and tapped his boot with his walking stick.
+"Chief magistrate of the commonwealth&mdash;well lodged&mdash;people pay&mdash;all
+right."</p>
+
+<p>The governor was much amused at the coolness of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> guest, and waited
+patiently to learn his business. He was not kept long in suspense.</p>
+
+<p>"Governor," said Jack, "I come to solicit your favor not on my behalf,
+but in the cause of friendship&mdash;sacred friendship&mdash;holy bond of two
+congenial hearts, &amp;c.&mdash;but you know all that. My friend, sir, William
+Bliffins&mdash;unfortunate young man&mdash;reduced in circumstances&mdash;good
+family&mdash;good blood&mdash;grandfather in the revolution&mdash;soil of Bunker Hill
+irrigated with the blood of Bliffins&mdash;but you know all that&mdash;run
+through his fortune&mdash;on the town&mdash;not a penny&mdash;hard case."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you solicit charity, sir, for your friend?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not exactly&mdash;official favor&mdash;vacant clerkship&mdash;secretary's
+office&mdash;make him comfortable&mdash;but you know all that."</p>
+
+<p>"Really, sir, you run on at such a rate&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Way I've got&mdash;few leading points all you want&mdash;time precious&mdash;money
+(old saw)&mdash;Bliffins&mdash;clerkship&mdash;don't you take?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think I recollect the name, now. But I must inquire into the
+character of the applicant. How did he lose his fortune?"</p>
+
+<p>"Unbounded benevolence&mdash;heart like an ox&mdash;bigger&mdash;endorsing notes for
+friends&mdash;founding hospitals for indigent Africans&mdash;temperance
+movement&mdash;philanthropy expensive&mdash;but you know all that."</p>
+
+<p>"The office in question requires a good penman. Can your friend write
+well?"</p>
+
+<p>"Splendid hand&mdash;copperplate&mdash;<i>currente calamo</i>&mdash;shine in your eyes."</p>
+
+<p>"Have you a specimen of his penmanship?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cords at home&mdash;some in pocket. Here you have it! no, that's my
+washerwoman's bill. Ah, here it is!" and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> Jack pulled out a crumpled
+note, and placed it before the governor.</p>
+
+<p>The governor scanned the document curiously, and with great difficulty
+deciphered the following words, which he read silently:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Jack,&mdash;Fashion has been beaten, and I lost on the mare. I shall
+back Tom Hyer to the extent of my pile. He is training finely. Bricks
+has a couple of Santa Anna's game cocks for me, on board the Raritan,
+at Lewis's wharf. Can you run down and get 'em from the steward? Yrs,
+&amp;c."</p>
+
+<p>The governor smiled as he handed back the note, but made no remark.</p>
+
+<p>"Where can I communicate with you, sir?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Dog and Thistle, Blackstone Street. I'll write my address."</p>
+
+<p>So Jack wrote his address card, (by the way, he wrote a splendid
+hand,) and took his leave of the governor.</p>
+
+<p>From the Adams House he posted to Louisburg Square, where the Trevors
+were living in great style. Slightly acquainted with Miss Trevor, he
+found no difficulty in being admitted to her presence. After rattling
+over a few commonplace topics, he came to the object of his mission.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen Bliffins lately?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not very," replied the fair one, languidly.</p>
+
+<p>"Dying, ma'am, dying."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it possible? What's the matter, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Love&mdash;desperation&mdash;patience on a monument couldn't sit there
+forever&mdash;heart ache&mdash;only one thing to save him."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed! and what is that?"</p>
+
+<p>"He loves you, madam, passionately, devotedly, enormously&mdash;Petrarch,
+Abelard, lukewarm lovers in compari<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>son. Throws himself at your
+feet&mdash;save him!&mdash;marry him quick! or you'll lose him!&mdash;say yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Sir, my father will communicate with you," said the lady, rising to
+terminate the interview.</p>
+
+<p>"Dog and Thistle, Blackstone Street," said Jack, and bowed himself
+away.</p>
+
+<p>The next day Jack and Bill were again seated together in a small room
+at the Dog and Thistle, waiting the result of the obliging operations
+of the former. In a few moments a waiter brought in a note,
+superscribed John Withers, Esq. Jack tore it open, and read as
+follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Sir,&mdash;In answer to your application yesterday, I am sorry
+to return you an unfavorable reply; but the chirography of
+the person you recommended, to say nothing of other
+considerations, unfits him for the vacancy in question.
+Having made inquiries with regard to yourself, and finding
+that you are in circumstances which might render employment
+acceptable, while your conduct proves that you have
+sincerely repented of the follies of your early years, I
+have concluded to request your acceptance of the office
+yourself. If you accept the offer, please report yourself
+to-morrow.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">
+"Yours, respectfully,<br />
+&mdash;&mdash; &mdash;&mdash;,</p>
+<p><span style="margin-left:5em; ">
+"Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts." </span></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>"You're an impostor!" shouted Bliffins. "Is this your friendship?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't help it," said Jack, ruefully. "I'm innocent&mdash;I did the best
+I could for you."</p>
+
+<p>"How did he know any thing about my penmanship?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I showed him this note," said the unhappy Jack, producing the
+document.</p>
+
+<p>"That note? You've ruined me! Do you know what it was about?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd forgotten."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, it was all about horseracing, pugilism, and cock fighting, you
+jackass!"</p>
+
+<p>"Letter for Mr. Bliffins!" said the waiter, entering with another
+epistle. Bliffins read it aloud.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. William Bliffins.</p>
+
+<p>"Sir: In answer to application of your friend, yesterday,
+for daughter's hand, have to reply for daughter, and say
+that the honor is respectfully declined. Had you obtained
+the office you applied for, might have treated with you.
+Daughter requests me to say that she could not have done so
+in any case.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">
+"Your ob't servant,</p>
+<p class="sig1">
+<span class="smcap">J. Trevor.</span>"
+</p>
+
+<p>"P.S. Please hand the enclosed to Mr. Withers." </p></div>
+
+<p>The "enclosed" was an invitation to a grand ball given by the Trevors
+on the ensuing night.</p>
+
+<p>After overwhelming his friend with anathemas, Bliffins rushed wildly
+from the Dog and Thistle, and enlisted in the second dragoons.</p>
+
+<p>Jack Withers, who had never before looked out for number one, now
+became so "obliging" as to take care of that neglected personage. He
+became a praiseworthy clerk, and a steady man of business. He went to
+the ball and polked himself into the good graces of Miss Juliet
+Trevor. The old gentleman and lady smiled upon their loves, and in
+due<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> time he was united to the object of his affections, securing
+thereby a handsome and amiable wife, and an independent fortune, which
+she insisted on settling upon her husband on the wedding day. There is
+no fear of Jack's relapsing into his old habits of extravagance; and
+while he is still as popular as ever, he never neglects his own
+affairs for those of other people.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_SILVER_HAMMER" id="THE_SILVER_HAMMER"></a>THE SILVER HAMMER.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The sun was sinking in the west, and gilding with its slant beams a
+pastoral landscape, as a young soldier, weary and footsore, slowly
+toiled along a lonely road that ran parallel with the course of the
+bright and winding Seine. A dusty foraging cap rested on his dark
+locks, and his youthful form bent beneath the weight of a well-filled
+knapsack. Pierre Lacour had served with honor in that glorious little
+band of heroes, which, under the leadership of the youthful Bonaparte,
+had crossed the snow-clad Alps, and fallen like an avalanche upon the
+plains of Lombardy, sweeping before it the veteran troops of Austria,
+and astonishing all Europe by unparalleled audacity and unexampled
+success. Pierre had marched farther on that day than he had ever done
+while following the colors of his regiment&mdash;but he was on his way
+home, and he longed to see his mother, his fair young sister Maria,
+and a lovely maiden, named Estelle, dearer to his heart than all
+beside. They had news of his coming,&mdash;at least, Maria and his mother
+had,&mdash;and he had sent them in advance, by a sure hand, a large amount
+of money, his share of the spoils of battle honorably won&mdash;enough, in
+short, to give a dowry to his sister, and enable him to demand the
+reward of all his toils and dangers&mdash;the hand of his betrothed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>His heart beat quick as he climbed the last vine-clad hill which
+separated him from his native valley. A few steps more would bring him
+to the summit, whence his eye would rest on the neat whitewashed
+cottage, with its surrounding palings, and trim garden; and there,
+perhaps, at the rustic gate, he should see the well-known figures of
+his mother and sister. Far as he had travelled, he sprang up the
+ascent with a buoyant step, and soon gained the eminence. The cottage
+lay full in view, but though it was the usual hour for preparing the
+evening meal, no blue smoke wreath curled upward from the chimney. A
+vague presentiment of evil weighed upon his heart. Hastening to dispel
+the dark and chilling fears that came thick upon him, he hurried down
+the slope, and soon passed through the garden and stood within the
+cottage. He called aloud&mdash;no voice responded to his cry. He rushed
+into the little room, which served at once for kitchen and parlor. It
+was empty&mdash;no fire burned upon the hearth. The humble furniture was in
+strange disarray. The casement, which looked out upon the garden was
+shattered. The walls and floor were charred and blackened with smoke,
+as if the house had taken fire and been saved with difficulty. Pierre
+sprang up stairs. In neither of the chambers could he find the loved
+ones whom he sought&mdash;only the same scene of confusion and desolation.
+Turning in dismay from the spectacle, he rushed out of the cottage to
+make his way to the nearest neighbors, and inquire into this appalling
+mystery. As he hurried along&mdash;his brain whirling, his footsteps
+uncertain and unsteady&mdash;he stumbled against an aged man of venerable
+appearance, who was coming in the opposite direction. The young
+soldier halted, and touching his cap, begged pardon for his
+involuntary rudeness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My poor Pierre," said the old man, "I know too well the cause of your
+forgetfulness."</p>
+
+<p>The soldier looked up and recognized the familiar and benevolent
+features of the good priest of the village, his old tutor and pastor.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," he said, pointing to the cottage, "you have been there&mdash;you
+know all&mdash;tell me&mdash;where are they?"</p>
+
+<p>The old man's eyes filled with tears, as he shook his head, and laid
+his hand kindly on the young man's shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Pierre," said he, "you have read 'whom the Lord loveth he
+chasteneth?'"</p>
+
+<p>The soldier bowed his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Pierre," exclaimed the good priest, "let us sit down on this bank.
+You are a good and brave boy. You can face danger, and I have sought
+to furnish you weapons to wage war against sorrow and trial."</p>
+
+<p>"You have been a father to me, sir," replied the young soldier,
+complying with the invitation of his pastor, and taking a seat beside
+him. "I will endeavor to listen calmly to all you have to communicate.
+Where are my mother and sister?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pierre," said the old man, "arm yourself with all your fortitude. You
+will never see your mother more till you meet her in that happier
+world, where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at
+rest."</p>
+
+<p>Pierre groaned deeply, and covering his face with his hands, rocked
+his body to and fro as he burst into an agony of tears. The priest
+sought not to interrupt him, but turned away his own weeping
+countenance, for the anguish of the youth was too painful to
+contemplate.</p>
+
+<p>At last the poor soldier looked up and spoke again: "What of my poor
+sister?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know nothing," replied the priest; "she is gone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> whither, none can
+tell. A great crime has been committed. By whom, none knows, save God
+and the perpetrator thereof. You sent home a large sum of money to
+your mother. She was so overjoyed at your good fortune, that she made
+no secret of its reception, though I cautioned her against speaking of
+it. A fortnight ago, the village was alarmed by the cry of fire. Your
+cottage was seen to be in flames. The neighbors hastened thither and
+extinguished the blaze. In the smoke and confusion it was not
+perceived at first that murder, as well as incendiarism, had done its
+foul work." The priest paused, overcome with agitation.</p>
+
+<p>"On! on!" shouted Pierre, "I can bear it all now!"</p>
+
+<p>"Your poor mother was the victim," continued the priest; "she lay on
+the hearthstone dead and bleeding. Her bureau had been broken open and
+rifled of its contents."</p>
+
+<p>"My sister! my sister!" cried the soldier.</p>
+
+<p>"She was gone. The whole surrounding country was searched, but nothing
+was discovered."</p>
+
+<p>"Maria! Maria! could gold have tempted <i>you</i>? No! no!&mdash;dog that I am,
+to suspect you! Misery has driven me mad!" cried the soldier, dashing
+his hand against his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"The whole dreadful crime," said the old priest, "is shrouded in a
+mystery as appalling as death itself. But God does not permit such
+deeds to slumber undetected or unavenged. Sooner or later they are
+brought to light."</p>
+
+<p>"May I prove the instrument of detection!" said the soldier. "Some of
+the coins that I sent my poor murdered mother were marked&mdash;I could
+recognize them again. Father, you shall take me to my mother's grave.
+One prayer there&mdash;one word with Estelle&mdash;and then I will go to Paris;
+it is the resort of every criminal, and thence it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> sends forth its
+crime-blackened ruffians to desecrate this fair earth with horror.
+Come, father, come&mdash;my mother's grave&mdash;lead me there at once!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Years passed away. Save by two or three persons, the crime which had
+desecrated the hearthstone of a humble village home was forgotten in
+those great historical events, of which Europe and France were then
+the theatres. In those days of bloodshed and battle, of victory and
+triumph, Pierre Lacour, who had commenced his military career as a
+brave young soldier, might have risen to the highest honors, had he
+followed the victorious eagles of his emperor. Why might not he rise
+as well as Murat, Ney, Lannes, or a hundred others? The epaulets of a
+colonel, nay, the baton of a marshal of France, were prizes within the
+reach of the lowliest, provided he had the head to plan and the heart
+to execute daring and chivalric deeds. But his heart no longer bounded
+like a war horse to the charge of the trumpet and the roll of the
+drum. He lived for one purpose&mdash;to discover the assassin of his mother
+and the sister, of whom nothing had been heard since the dreadful
+night of murder and conflagration. To facilitate his purposes, he had
+procured himself to be enrolled in the unrivalled police force of
+Fouch&eacute;. That wily minister had no more able assistant under his
+command, and none in that fraternity (of which many were miscreants,
+who had purchased impunity for crime by selling the lives and
+liberties of former accomplices and comrades) who could compare with
+him for purity of life and elevation of motive. To punish evil for the
+sake of society, was the aim of the young police officer. None more
+untiring or intelligent than he in ferreting out the perpetrators of
+deeds of violence. In the criminals whose arrest he effected, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span>
+whose conviction he secured, he expected, constantly, to find some
+cognizant of the offence which had thrown so black a shadow over his
+life. He read with eager avidity the dying confessions of the
+condemned. He caught eagerly every syllable that fell from the lips of
+men, who, standing on the brink of eternity, seemed to be impressed
+with the necessity of revealing truth. But for years his expectations
+were baffled.</p>
+
+<p>At last, all Paris was thrown into commotion by the murder of a
+Colonel Belleville, an officer who had served with distinction in the
+grand army, and who was found dead, one morning, in a room at house
+number 96 Rue La Harpe. The only mark of violence discovered by the
+surgeons was a dark, purple spot, about the size of a five-franc
+piece, on the left temple. The police were apprised that, on the
+morning of the day before, a slight young man, with fair hair and
+polished address, giving his name as Adolph Belmont, had hired the
+room at number 96 Rue La Harpe, and paid a week's rent in advance. It
+further appeared that, in the evening, just after the close of the
+performances at the opera, this young man had come home in company
+with an officer of the army. After the lapse of about an hour, the
+young man, Belmont, left the house, telling the porter he should
+return in a few minutes. But he never reappeared. About ten o'clock in
+the morning, the porter went up to his room, and found the door
+locked. He knocked and called, without receiving any answer. Looking
+through the keyhole, he saw the feet and legs of a man, in military
+boots and pantaloons, lying on the floor. Much alarmed and disturbed,
+he sought out a commissary of police, and that functionary, breaking
+open the door, discovered the body of Colonel Belleville. This tragedy
+excited an unusual sensation. Even the emperor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> heard of it, and, from
+his private purse provided a large sum of money to be paid as a reward
+to the discoverer of the perpetrator of this fearful crime.</p>
+
+<p>Not many days after this occurrence, and while it yet remained
+shrouded in mystery, another murder roused the excitable population of
+Paris to a frenzy of anxiety and horror. An army commissary, named
+Captain Eugene Descartes, was found dead in his lodgings, in the Rue
+Richelieu, with the same fatal purple mark on the left temple.</p>
+
+<p>Yet a third murder was perpetrated in the Boulevard des Italiens. A
+banker, named Monval, was, in this instance, the victim. His left
+temple bore the fatal discoloration of the size of a five-franc piece;
+but, although he had a large sum of money on his person, and wore a
+costly watch and many valuable trinkets, and though articles of high
+price abounded in his sumptuously-furnished apartment, not an article,
+as his steward testified, was missing.</p>
+
+<p>On the morning of the announcement of this last crime in the Moniteur,
+the minister of police received a summons from the emperor to attend
+him. He found him in his private cabinet, pacing to and fro in high
+excitement. His face was more colorless than ever, except that an
+angry hectic spot burned upon each cheek. As the minister entered, the
+emperor turned upon him, and exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Fouch&eacute;, what is the meaning of all this? Is this Paris, and are we
+living in the nineteenth century? It appears that there is no security
+for life in our capital. Mr. Fouch&eacute;, if such crimes can be committed
+with impunity, there is an end of all things; and if you cannot ferret
+out the perpetrators of such atrocities as these, it is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> time for you
+to vacate your position. I must appoint a new minister of police."</p>
+
+<p>"Sire," replied the minister, "how much time will you give me to
+discover the assassin?"</p>
+
+<p>"One week," replied the emperor.</p>
+
+<p>"I thank your majesty," replied the minister, bowing. "In one week,
+you shall have the assassin's head, or my resignation."</p>
+
+<p>"Good," said the emperor; "and to stimulate the activity of your
+people, I hereby authorize you to offer a reward of twenty thousand
+francs, for the detection of the assassin of the Rue La Harpe, the Rue
+Richelieu, and the Boulevard, if it prove, as I imagine, that one
+individual perpetrated these crimes, or five thousand francs each, if
+there were three criminals. Good day, Mr. Fouch&eacute;; let me have a report
+of your doings without delay."</p>
+
+<p>The secret of Mr. Fouch&eacute;'s confident promise to detect the assassin
+was the reliance he placed in the activity, daring, and intelligence
+of Pierre Lacour. He sent for him, and related his conversation with
+the emperor, enlarging on the munificent reward promised by Napoleon.</p>
+
+<p>"I am poor," said Lacour, "but higher motives than hopes of reward
+stimulate me to perform this duty. Yet, should I be successful, a sum
+of money like this would enable me to wed one, who, though I
+voluntarily offered to release her from her engagement has loved me as
+well in my misfortunes as in happier times. In one week, therefore,
+Mr. Fouch&eacute;, I will enable you to redeem your pledge to the emperor."</p>
+
+<p>Four days passed away, and yet the minister of police heard nothing
+from Lacour. But the young man had not been inactive; and once or
+twice he had obtained, what he considered, traces of the person
+calling himself Belmont,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> the supposed assassin of the Rue la Harpe,
+and, by presumption, of the other murders; but these traces led to no
+result.</p>
+
+<p>Whether in search of diversion, or that a vague hope whispered to him
+that he might obtain some intelligence by so doing, Lacour, on the
+fifth night after his interview with the minister, went to a masked
+ball at the grand opera house, in the costume of an officer of the
+Fusilier Guard, which chance led him to select. Weary of the noise and
+confusion, sad and discouraged, he had withdrawn from the crowded
+circle of dancers, when some one touched him on the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain Lassalle," said a sweet musical voice, "you are known, though
+the uniform you wear is not that of your own corps."</p>
+
+<p>Lacour turned with the intention of correcting the mistake, when a
+secret impulse restrained the disavowal. The person who addressed him
+was a slight young man, fashionably dressed, with no other disguise
+than a half-mask of black velvet, which did not conceal his light
+hair.</p>
+
+<p>"I perceive you know me," said Lacour, favoring the mistake; "though
+you have the advantage of me. I cannot possibly conjecture whom I am
+addressing."</p>
+
+<p>The masked laughed lightly.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it would be of no use for me to unmask," was the reply; "but
+if I tell you I have something of importance to communicate to
+you&mdash;something in reference to your application to the emperor for
+preferment, you may be disposed to listen to me."</p>
+
+<p>"With all my heart."</p>
+
+<p>"I see you are tired of this noisy scene," said the mask, "and so in
+faith am I. Besides, this is no place to talk of business. What say
+you to a moonlight walk to my lodg<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>ings, in the Rue Montmartre? There
+we can discuss our affairs over a glass of champagne."</p>
+
+<p>"I will willingly accompany you," said Lacour, "if you will give me a
+few minutes to speak to a friend, with whom I had a previous
+appointment."</p>
+
+<p>"Make haste, then," said the mask; "you will find me here for fifteen
+minutes."</p>
+
+<p>Lacour hastened to the nearest post, and made himself known to the
+commandant.</p>
+
+<p>"Quick!" said he, "I want a sergeant and a dozen <i>gens d'armes</i>. In
+fifteen minutes I shall leave the opera house, in company with a young
+man, for the Rue Montmartre. Let the squad follow us without appearing
+to do so. Keep in the shadow of the houses. We shall enter a house. As
+soon as the door has closed, demand instant admittance of the porter.
+Let the sergeant follow hard upon my heels, and wait outside the door
+of whatever room I enter. At a call from me, let him be ready to burst
+in and secure the person with whom I am in company."</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he had given these directions, the police officer hastened
+back to the opera house, where the mask was still awaiting him. Arm in
+arm they left the hall, and chatting familiarly, entered the Rue
+Montmartre, and soon arrived at an old house of seven stories, to
+which they were admitted by the porter. Lacour's heart beat as he
+accompanied his guide, in the dark, up three pairs of stairs&mdash;but
+before he had reached the head of the third flight, he heard the
+street door open and shut below, and knew that the sergeant had obeyed
+his directions, and that help was at hand in case his suspicions
+proved true.</p>
+
+<p>The mask opened the door of a room, and ushered in his guest. It was a
+small, boudoir-like apartment, and exquisitely furnished. Silken
+hangings fell over gold arrows,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> from the ceiling to the floor.
+Tapestry carpets, soft as velvet, covered the floor. Rich ottomans,
+superb mirrors, marble tables, and pictures, were crowded together. A
+soft light was diffused through the apartment by an alabaster
+shade-lamp. An intoxicating perfume loaded the atmosphere, and even
+oppressed the senses. Lacour, as he sank upon the sofa, felt overcome
+by a strange languor. The mask sat close beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain," said the mask, in a musical, insinuating voice, "have you
+ever loved?"</p>
+
+<p>"Before I answer this question," replied Lacour, "I must first know
+what prompts you thus to catechize me."</p>
+
+<p>"Because," replied the unknown, "I have deceived you&mdash;because I am a
+woman&mdash;one who has long known and loved you, till an uncontrollable
+desire to make this confession has compelled her to a step that you
+will blame, and, perhaps, despise her for."</p>
+
+<p>Lacour was puzzled, and remained silent for a few moments.</p>
+
+<p>"I see," said the mask, with a sigh, "you despise me for my very
+boldness. Yet, I am a lady of rank and reputation, and my affection
+for you is as pure as that of maiden can be."</p>
+
+<p>"Fair lady," said Lacour, "if such you be indeed, you must permit me
+to request you to remove that envious mask."</p>
+
+<p>"It may not be," replied the stranger, with a laugh. "Ask that, or
+presume to remove this shield, and I vanish like a fairy or a phantom.
+But if you promise to be very obedient, I may give you hopes of
+disclosing my face&mdash;perhaps my name&mdash;at our next interview. But in
+reward for your submission to my behest, I will allow you, like a
+benignant sovereign, to do homage to my ungloved hand."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She withdrew her kid glove, and presented, playfully, a hand so white,
+so delicately veined, and small, that Lacour could no longer doubt
+that he was addressing a lady. He raised the hand respectfully to his
+lips. But he felt now that his suspicions were groundless, and that he
+did wrong in deceiving a person, who, however romantic and
+unjustifiable her behavior might seem, was still one entitled to
+respect and honor. But as he was framing an apology for taking
+advantage of her mistaking him, the stranger suddenly sprang upon him
+like a tigress. The delicate hand he had just kissed now compressed
+his throat like an iron vice; the other suddenly brandished in the air
+a small <i>silver hammer</i>, while a fierce voice hissed in his ear,
+"Lassalle! your hour has come! Belleville, Descartes, and Monval, have
+gone before you to answer for their crimes. You are the fourth, and
+last. Die, villain!"</p>
+
+<p>But Lacour struggled free, and shouted for help. The door fell with a
+crash; the soldiers poured in, and the female assassin was secured and
+disarmed. Eager to unravel the mystery, the police officer tore the
+mask from the face of the unknown, and recognized in the wild and
+inflamed features of the assassin of the Rue La Harpe, the Rue
+Richelieu, and the Boulevard des Italiens, his sister, Maria Lacour!</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>But Maria Lacour died not on the scaffold. She was saved from that
+doom by unquestionable proofs of insanity. Her sad story was learned
+afterwards from various sources, and corroborated, in the most
+important particulars, by Captain Lassalle, who was arrested for a
+criminal offence shortly after the above incident, and made a full
+confession of his guilt. It appeared, then, that the house of the
+widow Lacour, a short time before the opening of our story, had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> been
+broken into by four villains, named Belleville, Descartes, Monval, and
+Lassalle. They were all men of bad habits, and urgently necessitous,
+but yet of decent education and family. Hearing a noise in the
+kitchen, Maria descended only in time to witness the death pangs of
+the mother. The three first-named ruffians, demons who had murdered to
+rob, wished to destroy this witness of their guilt, but the fourth
+interceded, and her life was spared. But the horror of the deed
+overthrew her reason. She fled from the house that night a maniac;
+whither she wandered, how she was cared for, for a long time was and
+must ever remain a mystery. She finally, it seems, became in a degree
+tranquillized, found her way to Paris, and there she supported herself
+by her extraordinary skill as an embroideress.</p>
+
+<p>But it was conjectured that her memory of early events had gone. The
+casual sight of one of the assassins, all of whom had prospered and
+risen in the world, revived the recollection of that one fearful night
+of horror, and with it came to her disordered brain the thirst of
+vengeance. It did not appear that for a moment she had dreamed of
+appealing to the interposition of the law. To execute a summary
+vengeance, personally, was her terrible resolve. With a cunning that
+often supplies the loss of reason with the insane, she contrived
+snares, into which three of the assassins fell, and, with the singular
+implement her fancy had suggested, was the means of their death.
+Chance led to the failure of her plan for punishing the last of the
+assassins, Lassalle, and to her discovery by her brother.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately after her arrest and examination, on proof of the
+condition of her mind, she was conveyed to a private asylum, and
+carefully attended to. Fortunately, her madness here assumed a happier
+phase. She took great pleas<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span>ure in seeing her brother, and appeared to
+have forgotten that her mother was no more, asking him every day how
+soon their mother would come and take her back to the country. But the
+trials she had undergone had undermined her health. She sank very
+rapidly, and soon breathed her last.</p>
+
+<p>Lacour only remained long enough in the service of the police to
+effect the arrest, and witness the condemnation of Lassalle, the last
+of the four assassins, who escaped the silver hammer of the maniac
+girl, to die by the hand of the executioner.</p>
+
+<p>The sorrows he had experienced would have blighted the heart and
+sapped the life of Pierre Lacour, but for the love of one who had
+proved true to him through all his trials. Some months after the death
+of his sister, he married his faithful Estelle, and retired to a small
+and well-stocked farm, for which he was indebted to the generosity of
+the emperor; and he lived long enough, if not to forget his sorrows,
+at least to find consolation in the bosom of his family.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_CHRIST_CHURCH_CHIMES" id="THE_CHRIST_CHURCH_CHIMES"></a>THE CHRIST CHURCH CHIMES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It was a cold winter evening. The chill blast came sweeping from the
+chain of hills that guard our city on the north, laden with the cold
+breath of a thousand leagues of ice and snow. There was a sharp, polar
+glitter in the myriad stars that wheeled on their appointed course
+through the dark blue heaven, in whose expanse no single cloud was
+visible. Howling through the icy streets came the strong, wild north
+wind, tearing in its fierce frenzy the sailcloth awnings into tatters,
+swinging the public-house signs, and shaking the window shutters, like
+a bold burglar bent on the perpetration of crime. Then onward, onward
+it sped over the dark steel-colored bay, and out to the wild, wide,
+open sea, to do battle with the sails of the stanch barks that were
+struggling towards a haven.</p>
+
+<p>But within, the good people of Boston were stoutly waging battle
+against the common enemy on this bitter Christmas eve. In some of the
+old-fashioned houses at the North End, inhabited by old-fashioned
+people, the ruddy light that streamed through the parlor windows on
+the street announced that huge fires of oak and hickory were blazing
+on the ample hearths. But in far the greater number of dwellings, the
+less genial, but more powerful anthracite was contending with the
+wintry elements.</p>
+
+<p>In an upper room of an old, crazy, wooden house, a poor woman, thinly
+clad, sat sewing beside a rusty, sheet-iron<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> stove, poorly supplied
+with chips. She had been once eminently handsome, and but for the
+wanness and hollowness of her face, would have appeared so still.</p>
+
+<p>Two little boys, of eight and nine years of age, were warming
+themselves, or seeking to warm themselves, at the stove, before
+retiring to their little bed in a small room adjoining.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't this nice, mother?" said the younger, a bright, black-eyed boy.
+"Didn't I get a nice lot of chips to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dearest, you are always a good and industrious boy," said the
+mother, snatching a moment from her work to imprint a kiss upon his
+forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor pa' will have a nice fire to warm him when he comes home," said
+the elder boy.</p>
+
+<p>At this allusion to the child's father, the mother burst into tears.
+The countenances of both the children fell. They knew too well the
+cause of their mother's bitter sorrow&mdash;the same cause had blighted
+their own young hearts and clouded their innocent lives&mdash;their father
+was a drunkard! Hence it was that, bright and intelligent as they
+were, they could not go to school&mdash;they were too ragged for that&mdash;and
+their time was required on the wharves to pick up fuel and such scraps
+of provision as are scattered from the sheaves of the prosperous and
+prodigal. For this reason, too, the mother had carefully forborne to
+remind the children that this was Christmas eve. But they knew it too
+well, and they contrasted its gloominess and sorrow with the
+well-remembered anniversaries when this was a season of delight&mdash;the
+eve of promised pleasures, of feasts, of dances, and of presents. With
+this thought in their hearts they silently kissed their mother, and
+retired to their little bed, committing themselves to "Our Father who
+art<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> in heaven," while the poor mother toiled on, listening with dread
+for the returning footsteps of her husband.</p>
+
+<p>The husband and father, whose return was thus dreaded, had worked late
+at night in the shop of the carpenter who had given him temporary
+employment, and who was to pay him this evening. Five or six dollars
+were coming to him, more than he had earned honestly for a long while,
+and his hand shook with eagerness as his employer counted out his
+wages. As he put on his hat to leave the shop, he observed his
+fellow-workmen, who were all sober and steady men, eying him with sad,
+inquiring looks; he almost ran out of the shop.</p>
+
+<p>"I know what they mean," he said to himself. "But what is it to them
+how I spend my money&mdash;the prying busy-bodies! I'm not a slave&mdash;I have
+a right to do what I please with my own. Whew! how cutting the wind
+is! A glass or two of hot whiskey toddy will be just the thing!"</p>
+
+<p>Without one thought of his toiling wife and neglected children, the
+poor, infatuated man hastened towards a grocery with the intention of
+slaking his morbid thirst. At the moment his foot was on the
+threshold, out from the belfry of Christ Church, ringing clear in the
+frosty air, streamed a tide of sweet and solemn music. Simple, yet
+touching, was the melody of those sacred bells, chiming forth the
+advent of the blessed Christmas time. And as the song of the bells
+fell upon his ear, it awakened in the drunkard a thousand memories of
+happier, because better days. The comfortable dwelling, the quiet,
+neat parlor, with its Christmas dressings, the sweet face of his wife,
+the merry laugh of his bright-eyed children&mdash;all flashed back vividly
+upon his mind. He recked not of the bitter blast&mdash;he forgot his late
+purpose&mdash;he could wish those sweet bells to play on forever. But they
+ceased.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It was a voice from heaven!" said the man, as the tears rolled down
+his cheeks. "Surely God has blessed those Christ Church chimes. I'll
+never more drink one drop. This money shall go to my family, every
+cent of it. It is not too late yet to buy provision for to-morrow, and
+some comfortable things for the children."</p>
+
+<p>It was late that night when the watching wife heard the step of her
+husband on the staircase. It was as slow and heavy as usual; but how
+relieved, how astonished, how grateful she felt, when the door opened,
+and he came in, happy, sober, bearing a huge basket filled with
+provisions, and threw down a parcel containing stockings, comforters,
+and mittens for the children, not forgetting some simple Christmas
+wreaths, and some of those condiments which children love.</p>
+
+<p>The next day was a happy one indeed for the mother and the little
+boys&mdash;a merry Christmas that reminded them of old times, and gave them
+assurance of a happy future. May we not hope that the effect we have
+attributed to the Christ Church chimes is not a solitary instance of
+the power of music?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_POLISH_SLAVE" id="THE_POLISH_SLAVE"></a>THE POLISH SLAVE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Gayly opened the bright summer morning on the gray feudal turrets of
+Castle Tekeli, the residence of the old Count Alexis Tekeli, that
+crowned a rocky eminence, and was embosomed in the deep secular
+forests of Lithuania. The court yard was a scene of joyous noise and
+gay confusion; for the whole household was mustering for the chase.
+Half a dozen horses, gaily caparisoned, were neighing, snorting, and
+pawing the ground with hot impatience; a pack of stanch hounds, with
+difficulty restrained by the huntsmen, mingled their voices with the
+neighing of the steeds, while the slaves and relatives of the family
+were all busy in preparation for the day's sport.</p>
+
+<p>Count Alexis was the first in the saddle; aged, but hale and vigorous,
+he was alert and active as a young man of five-and-twenty.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are my daughters?" he exclaimed, impatiently, as he drew on his
+buff gantlets. "The sun is mounting apace, and we should not lose the
+best portion of the day."</p>
+
+<p>As if in reply to his question, a tall, dark-haired girl, of elegant
+figure and stately bearing, appeared by his side, and with the
+assistance of a groom, mounted her prancing gray palfrey.</p>
+
+<p>"This is well, Anna," said the count. "But where is Eudocia? She must
+not keep us waiting."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Eudocia declines to be of our party, father," replied the girl.</p>
+
+<p>"Pshaw!" said the old man; "she will never have your color in her
+cheeks, if she persist in moping in her chamber, reading old legends
+and missals, and the rhymes of worthless minnesingers. But let her go;
+I have one daughter who can live with the hunt, and see the boar at
+bay without flinching. Sound, bugle, and forward!"</p>
+
+<p>Amid the ringing of silver curb chains, the baying of hounds, and the
+enlivening notes of the bugle, the cavalcade and the train of footmen
+swept out of the court yard, and descending the winding path, plunged
+into the heart of the primeval forest. The dogs and the beaters darted
+into the thick copsewood, and soon the shouts of the huntsmen and the
+fierce bay of the dogs announced that a wild boar had been found and
+started. On dashed the merry company, Count Alexis leading on the
+spur. The lady Anna soon found herself alone, but she pressed her
+palfrey in the direction of the sounds of the chase as they receded in
+the distance. Suddenly she found herself in a small clearing, and drew
+her rein to rest her panting steed. She had not remained long in her
+position, when she heard, opposite to her, a crashing among the
+branches, and the next moment a huge wild boar, maddened with pursuit,
+and foaming with rage, broke into the opening and sprang directly
+towards her. Her horse, terrified at the apparition, reared so
+suddenly that he fell backwards, throwing his rider heavily, and
+narrowly missing crushing her. Springing to his feet, he dashed wildly
+away with flying mane and rein, while the lady lay at the mercy of the
+infuriated animal, faint and incapable of exertion.</p>
+
+<p>At that critical moment, a young man, in the livery of the count,
+dashed before the prostrate form of the lady,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> and dropping on one
+knee, levelled his short spear, and sternly received the charge of the
+boar. Though the weapon was well directed, it shivered in the grasp of
+the young huntsman; and though he drew his short sword with the
+rapidity of thought, the boar was upon him. The struggle was short and
+fierce, and the young huntsman succeeded in slaying the monster, but
+not until he had received a severe wound in the arm from the tusks of
+the boar. Heedless of his sufferings, however, he ran to a neighboring
+rivulet, and filling his cap with water, returned and sprinkled the
+face of the fainting girl. In a few moments she revived.</p>
+
+<p>Her first words, uttered with a trembling voice, were,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Where&mdash;where is the wild boar?"</p>
+
+<p>"There, lady," said the huntsman, pointing to the grizzly monster.
+"His career is ended."</p>
+
+<p>"And it is you who have saved my life," exclaimed Anna, with a
+grateful smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I did my duty, lady," answered the huntsman.</p>
+
+<p>"But who are you, sir? Let me, at least, know your name that I may
+remember you in my prayers."</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Michael Erlitz; though your eyes, lady, may never have
+dwelt on one so lowly as myself, I am ever in your father's train when
+he goes to the chase. I am Count Tekeli's <i>slave</i>," he added, casting
+his eyes on the ground.</p>
+
+<p>"A slave? and so brave&mdash;so handsome!" thought the lady Anna; but she
+gave no utterance to the thought.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment the count rode up, followed by two or three of his
+retainers, and throwing himself from his horse, clasped his daughter
+in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"My child, my child!" he exclaimed; "thank God, you are alive! I saw
+your horse dash past me riderless, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> flew to your assistance. But
+there is blood upon your dress."</p>
+
+<p>"It is my blood!" said the slave, calmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yours, Michael?" cried the count, looking round him. "Now I see it
+all&mdash;the dead boar, the broken spear, your bleeding arm. You saved my
+daughter's life at the risk of your own!"</p>
+
+<p>"The life of a slave belongs to his master and his master's family,"
+answered Michael, calmly. "Of what value is the existence of a serf?
+He belongs not to himself. He is of no more account than a horse or a
+hound."</p>
+
+<p>"Say not so," said Count Alexis, warmly. "Michael, you are a slave no
+longer. I will directly make out your manumission papers. In the mean
+time you shall do no menial service; you shall sit at my board, if you
+will; and be my friend, if you will accept my friendship."</p>
+
+<p>The eagle eye of the young huntsman kindled with rapture. He essayed
+to speak, but the words died upon his tongue. Falling on his knees, he
+seized the count's hand, and pressed it to his lips and heart. Tekeli
+raised him from his humble posture.</p>
+
+<p>"Michael," said he, "henceforth kneel only to your Maker. And now to
+the castle; your hurt needs care."</p>
+
+<p>"Willingly," said the young man, "would I shed the best blood in my
+body to obtain my freedom."</p>
+
+<p>"Ho, there!" said the count to his squire; "dismount, and let Michael
+have your horse; and bring after us Michael's dearly-earned hunting
+trophy. He has eclipsed us all to-day."</p>
+
+<p>Michael was soon in the saddle, riding next to the lady Anna, who,
+from time to time, turned her countenance, beaming with gratitude,
+upon him, and addressed him words of encouragement and kindness; for
+her proud and im<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span>perious nature was entirely subdued and changed, for
+the time, by the service he had rendered her.</p>
+
+<p>When the cavalcade reached the castle, they found the lady Eudocia,
+the count's eldest daughter, waiting to receive them. She heard the
+recital of the morning's adventure with deep interest; but a keen
+observer would have noticed that she seemed less moved by the
+recollection of her sister's danger, than by the present condition of
+the wounded huntsman. It was to her care that he was committed, as she
+was skilled in the healing art, having inherited the knowledge from
+her mother. She compelled Michael to give up all active employment,
+and, in the course of a few weeks, succeeded in effecting a complete
+restoration of the wounded arm.</p>
+
+<p>Count Tekeli treated the young man with the kindness of a father,
+losing all his aristocratic prejudices in a generous sense of
+gratitude. Splendidly attired, promised an honorable career in arms,
+if he chose to adopt the military profession, his whole future changed
+by a fortunate accident, Michael was happy in the intimacy of the two
+sisters. He now dared to aspire to the hand of her whom he had saved,
+and whom he loved with all the intensity of a passionate nature. Thus
+weeks and months rolled on like minutes, and he only awaited the
+delivery of his manumission papers to join the banner of his
+sovereign.</p>
+
+<p>One day&mdash;an eventful day, indeed, for him&mdash;he received from Eudocia,
+the elder sister, a message, inviting him to meet her in a summer
+house that stood in a small garden connected with the castle. Punctual
+to the hour named, he presented himself before her.</p>
+
+<p>"Michael," said she, extending her hand to him, "I sent for you to
+tell you a secret."</p>
+
+<p>Her voice was so tremulous and broken, that the young<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> man gazed
+earnestly into her face, and saw that she had been weeping, and now
+with difficulty suppressed her tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Nay," said she, smiling feebly; "it will not be a secret long, for I
+must tell it to my father as soon as he returns from court with the
+royal endorsement to your manumission. I am going to leave you all."</p>
+
+<p>"To leave us, lady?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; I am going to take the veil."</p>
+
+<p>"You, so beautiful, so young! It cannot be."</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! youth, beauty, are insufficient to secure happiness. The world
+may be a lonely place, even to the young and beautiful; the cloister
+is a still and sacred haven on the road to a better world."</p>
+
+<p>"And what has induced you to take this step? I have not noticed
+hitherto any trace of sorrow or weariness in your countenance."</p>
+
+<p>"You were studying a brighter page&mdash;the fair face of my sister. Start
+not, Michael; I have divined your secret. She loves you, Michael; she
+loves you with her whole soul. You will wed her and be happy; while
+I&mdash;&mdash;" She turned away her face to conceal her tears.</p>
+
+<p>The young man heard only the blissful prediction that concerned
+himself; he noted not the pangs of her who uttered it.</p>
+
+<p>"Dearest lady!" he exclaimed, "you have rendered me the happiest of
+men;" and dropping on his knees, he seized her hand and covered it
+with kisses.</p>
+
+<p>"Hark!" said Eudocia, in alarm; "footsteps! We are surprised; I must
+not be seen here!" and with these words she fled.</p>
+
+<p>Michael sprang to his feet. Before him stood the younger daughter of
+Count Alexis, her eyes flashing fire,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> her whole frame quivering with
+passion. He advanced and took her hand, but she flung it from him
+fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>"Slave!" she exclaimed, "dare you pollute with your vile touch the
+hand of a high-born dame&mdash;the daughter of your master?"</p>
+
+<p>"Anna, what means this passion?" cried Michael, in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence, slave!" cried the imperious woman. "What ho, there!" she
+added, stamping her foot; "who waits?"</p>
+
+<p>Half a dozen menials sprang to her call.</p>
+
+<p>"Take me this slave to the court yard!" she cried vehemently; "he has
+been guilty of misbehavior. Let him taste the knout; and woe be to you
+if you spare him. Away with him! Rid me of his hateful presence!"</p>
+
+<p>While Michael was subjected to this hateful punishment, the vindictive
+girl, still burning with passion, sought her sister. What passed
+between them may be conjectured from what follows.</p>
+
+<p>Michael, released from the hands of the menials, stood, with swelling
+heart and burning brow, in one of the lofty apartments of the castle.
+He had felt no pain from the lash, but the ignominy of the punishment
+burned in his very soul, consuming the image that had been in his
+inner heart for years. The scales had fallen from his eyes, and he now
+beheld the younger daughter of the count in all the deformity of her
+moral nature&mdash;proud, imperious, passionate, and cruel.</p>
+
+<p>A door opened&mdash;a female, with dishevelled hair, and a countenance of
+agony, rushed forward and threw herself at his feet, embracing his
+knees convulsively. It was Anna!</p>
+
+<p>"O Michael!" she cried, "forgive me, forgive me! I shall never forgive
+myself for the pain I inflicted upon you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I have suffered no pain," replied Michael, coldly. "Or if I did, it
+is the duty of a slave to suffer pain. You reminded me this morning
+that I was still a slave."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no! It is <i>I</i> that am <i>your</i> slave!" cried the lady. "Your
+slave&mdash;body and soul. Behold! I kiss your feet in token of submission,
+my lord and master! Michael, I love you&mdash;I adore you! I would follow
+you barefoot to the end of the world. Let me kiss your burning wounds;
+and O, forgive&mdash;forgive me!"</p>
+
+<p>Michael raised her to her feet, and gazed steadily in her countenance.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady," said he, "I loved you years ago, when, as a boy, I was only
+permitted to gaze on you, as we gaze upon the stars, that we may
+worship, but never possess. It was this high adoration that refined
+and ennobled my nature; that, in the mire of thraldom, taught me to
+aspire&mdash;taught me that, though a slave, I was yet a man. Through your
+silent influence, I was enabled to refine my manners, to cultivate my
+mind, and to fit myself for the freedom which bounteous Heaven had in
+store for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, yes!" replied Anna. "You have made yourself all that can render
+a woman happy. There is not a noble in the land who can boast of
+accomplishments like yours; and you are beautiful as a virgin's dream
+of angels."</p>
+
+<p>"These are flattering <i>words</i>, lady."</p>
+
+<p>"They come from the heart, Michael."</p>
+
+<p>"You have told me what I am, lady. Now hear what I require in the
+woman I would wed. She must be beautiful, for beauty should ever mate
+with beauty; high born, for the lowly of birth are aspiring, and never
+wed their equals; yet above all, gentle, womanly, kind, forgiving,
+affectionate. No unsexed Semiramis or Zenobia for me."</p>
+
+<p>"I will make myself all that you desire, Michael."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We cannot change our natures," replied Michael, coldly.</p>
+
+<p>"But you will forgive me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not now in a condition to answer you. Smarting with indignation
+I can ill suppress, I cannot command the calmness requisite to reply
+in fit terms to the generous confidence of a high-born lady. Retire to
+your apartment, lady, for your father is expected momently, and I must
+see him first alone."</p>
+
+<p>Anna kissed the hand of the slave, and retired slowly. A few moments
+afterwards the gallop of a horse was heard entering the court yard,
+and this sound was followed by the appearance of Count Alexis, who
+threw himself into the arms of Michael, and pressed him to his heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Joy, joy, Michael!" he exclaimed. "You are now free&mdash;as free as air!
+Here are the documents; my slave no longer&mdash;my friend always. And as
+soon as you choose to join the service, you can lead a troop of the
+royal cavaliers."</p>
+
+<p>Michael poured out his thanks to his generous master.</p>
+
+<p>"And now," said the count, "to touch upon a matter nearer still to my
+heart. Since the adventure in the forest, I have loved you as a son.
+To make you such in reality would be to crown my old age with
+happiness. My daughters are acknowledged to be beautiful, fitting
+mates for the proudest of the land. I offer you the hand of her you
+can love the best; make your election, and I doubt not her heart will
+second my wishes and yours."</p>
+
+<p>"My noble friend," said Michael, "I accept your offer gratefully. You
+have made me the happiest of men. You will pardon me, I know, when I
+confess that I have dared to raise my eyes to one of your daughters.
+Without your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> consent the secret should have been hidden forever in my
+own heart, even had it consumed it."</p>
+
+<p>Count Tekeli shook the hand of the young man warmly, and then summoned
+his two daughters. They obeyed promptly. Both were agitated, and bent
+their eyes upon the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"Count Tekeli," said Michael, speaking in a calm, clear voice, "I have
+a word to say to this your younger daughter, the lady Anna."</p>
+
+<p>As her name was uttered, the young girl raised her eyes, inquiringly,
+to the face of the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady, but now," said Michael, "you solicited my forgiveness on your
+knees."</p>
+
+<p>"What!" cried the count, the blood mounting to his temples; "a
+daughter of mine solicit on her knees forgiveness of one so late my
+more than vassal&mdash;my slave! What is the meaning of this?"</p>
+
+<p>"It means," cried Michael, kindling as he spoke, "that this morning,
+during your absence, count,&mdash;nay, a half hour before your return,
+this, your younger daughter, in a moment of ill-founded jealousy and
+rage, usurping your virtual rights,&mdash;rights you had yourself
+annulled,&mdash;doomed me to the knout!&mdash;yea, had me scourged by menials in
+the court yard of your castle!"</p>
+
+<p>"How," cried the count, addressing his daughter, "dared you commit
+this infamy on the person of my friend&mdash;the savior of your life?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did, I did!" cried Anna, wringing her hands.</p>
+
+<p>"And you asked me to forgive you," said Michael. "You offered me your
+hand, and begged me to accept it. My answer is, Never, never, never!
+The moment you laid the bloody scourge upon my back, you lost your
+hold upon my heart forever! I were less than a man could I forgive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span>
+this outrage on my manhood. I saved your life&mdash;you repaid it with the
+lash. It is not the lash that wounds, it is the shame. The one eats
+into the living flesh, the other into the living heart. Were you ten
+times more lovely than you are, you would ever be a monster in my
+eyes."</p>
+
+<p>The tears that coursed freely down the cheeks of the lady Anna ceased
+to fall as Michael ceased to speak. A deep red flush mounted to her
+temples, and her eyes, so lately humid, shot forth glances like those
+of an angry tigress. She turned to the count.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said she, "will you permit a base-born slave to use such
+language to your daughter?"</p>
+
+<p>"Silence!" said the old man. "His heart is nobler than yours. More
+measured terms could not have passed his lips. I should have despised
+him had he felt and said less. Get thee to thy chamber, and in
+penitence and prayer relieve thy conscience of the sin thou hast
+committed."</p>
+
+<p>The lady Anna retired from the apartment with a haughty air and
+measured step.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady," said Michael, approaching Eudocia, "between your sister and
+myself there is a gulf impassable. If ever I can forgive her, it must
+be when those sweet and tender eyes, that speak a heart all steeped in
+gentleness and love, have smiled upon my hopes, and made me at peace
+with all the world. Dearest Eudocia, will you accept the devotion of
+my heart and life?"</p>
+
+<p>He took her hand; it trembled in his grasp, but was not withdrawn. She
+struggled for composure a moment, and then, resting her head upon his
+shoulder, wept for joy.</p>
+
+<p>The nuptials of Michael and Eudocia were soon celebrated. A brilliant
+assemblage graced the old castle on the occasion; but long before the
+solemnization, the count's younger daughter had fled to a convent to
+conceal her anger and despair.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="OBEYING_ORDERS" id="OBEYING_ORDERS"></a>OBEYING ORDERS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The "oldest inhabitant" perfectly remembers the Widow Trotter, who
+used, many years ago, to inhabit a small wooden house away down in
+Hanover Street, in somewhat close proximity to Salutation Alley. Well,
+this widow was blessed with a son, who, like Goldsmith, and many other
+men distinguished in after life, was the dunce of his class. Numerous
+were the floggings which his stupidity brought upon him, and the road
+to knowledge was with him truly a "wale of tears."</p>
+
+<p>One day he came home, as usual, with red eyes and hands.</p>
+
+<p>"O, you blockhead!" screamed his mother,&mdash;she was a bit of a virago,
+Mrs. Trotter was,&mdash;"you've ben gettin' another lickin', I know."</p>
+
+<p>"O, yes," replied young Mr. Trotter; "that's one uv the reg'lar
+exercises&mdash;lickin' me. 'Arter I've licked Trotter,' sez the master,
+'I'll hear the 'rithmetic class.' But, mother, to change the subject,
+as the criminal said, when he found the judge was getting personal, is
+there enny arrand I can do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," grumbled the widow; "only you're so eternal slow about every
+thing you undertake&mdash;go get a pitcher of water, and be four years
+about it, will ye?"</p>
+
+<p>Bob Trotter took the pitcher, and wended his way in the direction of
+the street pump; but he hadn't got far when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> he encountered his
+friend, Joe Buffer, the mate of a vessel, issuing from his house,
+dragging a heavy sea chest after him.</p>
+
+<p>"Come Bob," said Joe, "bear a hand, and help us down to Long Wharf
+with this."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, so I would," answered Bob, "only you see mother sent me arter a
+pitcher o' water."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you care about your mother&mdash;she don't care for you? Come
+along."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said Bob, "first let me hide the pitcher where I can find it
+again."</p>
+
+<p>With these words he stowed away his earthenware under a flight of
+stone steps, and accompanied his friend aboard his ship. The pilot was
+urging the captain to cast off, and take advantage of the tide and
+wind, but the latter was awaiting the arrival of a boy who had shipped
+the day before, wishing no good to his eyes for the delay he had
+occasioned.</p>
+
+<p>At last he turned to Bob, and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What do you say, youngster, to shipping with me? I'll treat you well,
+and give you ten dollars a month."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to go," said Bob, hesitatingly. "But my mother&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hang your mother!" interrupted the captain. "She'll be glad to get
+rid of you. Come&mdash;will you go?"</p>
+
+<p>"I hain't got no clothes."</p>
+
+<p>"Here's a chestfull. That other chap was just your size; they'll fit
+you to a T."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go."</p>
+
+<p>"Cast off that line there!" shouted the captain; and the ship fell off
+with the tide, and was soon standing down the bay with a fair wind,
+and every stitch of canvas set. She was bound for the northwest coast,
+<i>via</i> Canton, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> back again, which was then called the "double
+voyage," and usually occupied about four years.</p>
+
+<p>In the mean while, the non-appearance of Bob seriously alarmed his
+mother. A night passed, and the town crier was called into requisition
+a week, when she gave him up, had a note read for her in meeting, and
+went into mourning.</p>
+
+<p>Just four years after these occurrences the ship returned to port, and
+Bob and his friend were paid off. The wages of the widow's son
+amounted to just four hundred and eighty dollars, and he found, on
+squaring his accounts with the captain, that his advances had amounted
+to the odd tens, and four hundred dollars clear were the fruits of his
+long cruise.</p>
+
+<p>As he walked in the direction of his mother's house, in company with
+Joe, he scanned with a curious eye the houses, the shops, and the
+people that he passed. Nothing appeared changed; the same signs
+indicated an unchanging hospitality on the part of the same landlords,
+the same lumpers were standing at the same corners&mdash;it seemed as if he
+had been gone only a day. With the old sights and sounds, Bob's old
+feelings revived, and he almost dreaded to see, debouching from some
+alley, a detachment of boys sent by his ancient enemy, the
+schoolmaster, to know why he had been playing truant, and to carry him
+back to receive the customary walloping.</p>
+
+<p>When he was quite near home, he said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Joe, I wonder if any body's found that old pitcher."</p>
+
+<p>He stooped down, thrust his arm under the stone steps, and withdrew
+the identical piece of earthenware he had deposited there just four
+years ago.</p>
+
+<p>Having rinsed and filled it at the pump, he walked into his mother's
+house, and found her seated in her accustomed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> arm chair. She looked
+at him for a minute, recognized him, screamed, and exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Bob! where <i>have</i> you been? What have you been doing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Gettin' that pitcher o' water," answered Bob, setting it upon the
+table. "I always obey orders&mdash;you told me to be four years about it,
+and I was."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_DEACONS_HORSE" id="THE_DEACONS_HORSE"></a>THE DEACON'S HORSE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>As you turn a corner of the road, passing the base of a huge hill of
+granite all overgrown with ivy and scrub oak, the deacon's house comes
+full in sight. It is a quaint old edifice of wood, whose architecture
+proclaims it as belonging to the ante-revolutionary period. Innocent
+of paint, its dingy shingles and moss-grown roof assimilated with the
+gray tint of the old stone fences and the granite boulders that rise
+from the surrounding pasture land. The upper story projects over the
+lower one, and in the huge double door that gives entrance to the hall
+there are traces of Indian bullets and tomahawks, reminiscences of
+that period when it was used as a blockhouse and served as a fortalice
+to protect the inhabitants of the surrounding district, who fled
+hither for protection from the vengeful steel and lead of the
+aborigines. On one side of the mansion is an extensive apple orchard
+of great antiquity, through which runs a living stream, whose babble
+in the summer solstice, mingled with the hum of insects, is the most
+refreshing sound to which the ear can listen. On the other side is one
+of those old-fashioned wells, whose "old oaken bucket" rises to the
+action of a "sweep." Two immemorial elm trees, in a green old age,
+shadow the trim shaven lawn in front. Opposite the house, on the other
+side of the road, is a vast barn, whose open doors, in the latter part
+of July, afford a glimpse of a compact mass of English hay, destined
+for the sustenance of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> the cattle in the dreary months of winter. We
+must not forget the huge wood pile, suggestive of a cheerful fireside
+in the long winter evenings.</p>
+
+<p>But where is the deacon's horse? Last year, and for the past twenty
+years preceding, you could hardly pass of a summer evening, without
+noticing an old gray quietly feeding by the roadside, lazily brushing
+off, with his long switch tail, the hungry flies that fastened on his
+flanks. The landscape is nothing without the old horse. The deacon
+reared him on the homestead. When a yearling he used to come regularly
+to the back door and there receive crusts of bread, crumbs of cake,
+and other delicacies, the free gifts of the children to their pet. He
+was the most wonderful colt that ever was&mdash;as docile as the house dog.
+When stray poultry trespassed on the grounds, he would lay his little
+ears back, and putting his nose close to the ground, curling up his
+lips and showing his white teeth, drive the marauders from the
+premises with such a "scare," that they would refrain from their
+incursions for a week to come. But he was incapable of injuring a
+living thing.</p>
+
+<p>When old enough for use, he submitted to the discipline of bit and
+bridle without a single opposing effort. And what a fine figure he
+made in harness! How smartly he trotted off to church carrying the
+whole family behind him in a Dearborn wagon! How proud was his
+carriage when he bore the deacon on his back!</p>
+
+<p>The old man once made a long journey on horseback, to visit a brother
+who lived in the northern part of New England. A great portion of the
+way there was only a bridle path to follow through the woods, and this
+was frequently obstructed by fallen trees. When the impediment was
+merely a bare trunk, the gallant gray cleared it gayly at a flying
+leap; when the tree was encumbered with branches,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> he clambered over
+it like a wild cat. Once the deacon was obliged to dismount, and crawl
+on his hands and knees through the dense branches; the sagacious horse
+imitated his example, and worked his way through like a panther.</p>
+
+<p>But age came upon the good gray. His sight began to fail&mdash;his knees to
+falter. His teeth were entirely worn away.</p>
+
+<p>After a bitter struggle the deacon concluded to replace him by a
+younger horse. Life had become a burden to the old family servant, of
+which it was a mercy to relieve him. Yet, even then, the deacon was
+reluctant to give a positive order for his execution.</p>
+
+<p>One day he called his eldest son to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Abijah," said he, "I'm going over to W., to get that colt I was
+speaking about. While I am gone I want you to <i>dispose</i> of the poor
+old gray. I shouldn't like to sell him to any body that would abuse
+him."</p>
+
+<p>He could say no more&mdash;but Abijah understood him. When his father had
+gone, he went into the meadow, and dug a deep pit, beside which he
+placed the sods at first removed by the spade. He then carefully
+loaded his rifle and called to the old gray. The poor animal, who was
+accustomed to obey the voice of every member of the family, feebly
+neighed and tottered to the brink of the pit. The young man threw a
+handkerchief over the horse's eyes, and placing the muzzle of the
+rifle to his ear, fired. The poor old horse fell, without a groan,
+into the grave which had been prepared for him. With streaming eyes,
+Abijah threw the earth over the remains of his playmate, and then
+carefully replaced the sod.</p>
+
+<p>When the deacon returned with his fine new horse, he manifested no
+elation at his purchase, nor, though he perceived that the stall was
+empty, did he trust himself to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> make any inquiries respecting the old
+gray. Only the family noticed, that in the course of the afternoon, in
+wandering through the meadow, he came upon the new-made grave, and
+though the sods had been carefully replaced, he evidently noticed
+traces of the spade, and suspected the cause, for he tried the soil
+with his foot, and was also observed to pass the back of his hand
+across his eyes. But he never alluded to his old servant.</p>
+
+<p>If there be men who can smile at the grief of a family for the loss of
+an animal who has been long endeared to them by service and
+association, be assured that their hearts are not in the right place;
+and that they are individuals who would exhibit a like callousness to
+the loss of human friends.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_CONTRABANDISTA" id="THE_CONTRABANDISTA"></a>THE CONTRABANDISTA.</h2>
+
+<h3>A TALE OF THE PACIFIC COAST.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Night was setting in&mdash;a clear, starlight night&mdash;as a small armed brig
+was working her way into a little bay upon the western coast of
+Mexico. She was a trim-built craft, and not too deeply laden to
+conceal the symmetry of her dark and exquisitely-modelled hull. The
+cleanness of her run, the elegance of her lines, the rake of her
+slender masts, and the cut of her sails, showed her, at a glance, to
+be a Baltimore-built clipper&mdash;at the time of which we speak&mdash;some
+years ago&mdash;the fastest thing upon the ocean. She was working to
+windward against a light breeze, and hence was unable to exhibit any
+thing of her qualities, though a seaman's eye would have decided at a
+glance that she could sail like a witch. The Zanthe, for that was the
+name inscribed in gilt letters on her stern and sideboards, might have
+been a dangerous customer in a brush, for her armament consisted of
+ten brass eighteens, and her crew of sixty picked seamen&mdash;an abundance
+of men to work the brig, and serve her batteries with satisfaction and
+credit.</p>
+
+<p>Not to keep the reader any longer in suspense with regard to her
+character and purpose, we will inform him that the Zanthe was a
+smuggler, and for some years had been engaged in the illegal game of
+defrauding the revenue of the Mexican republic. She was commanded by a
+Scotch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span>man named Morris, and her first mate was a Yankee, answering to
+the hail of Pardon G. Simpkins, as gallant a fellow and as good a
+seaman as ever trod a plank. It was her custom to land contraband
+goods at different points upon the coast where lighters were kept
+concealed, and where the merchandise was taken charge of by the
+shore-gang, a numerous and well-appointed body of picked men, mounted
+and armed to the teeth, and provided with a large number of mules for
+transporting the goods into the interior. The merchandise, lightered
+off from the brig, was hidden in the <i>chaparral</i>, if it came on shore
+before the mule trains were ready, and it was piled up with
+combustibles, in such a manner that, should the <i>vigilantes</i> surprise
+them in sufficient numbers to effect a seizure, and overcome
+resistance, a match thrown among the booty secured its destruction in
+a few moments. A smoke by day and a fire by night, upon the shore, was
+the signal for the brig to approach and come to anchor.</p>
+
+<p>The Zanthe, as we before said, slowly worked her way to her anchorage.
+One by one, her white sails, on which the last flush of the sunset
+fires had just faded, were all furled, and, her anchors dropped, she
+swung round with the tide, and rode in safety. A Bengola light was
+displayed for a moment from the foretop, and answered by another from
+the shore.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, cap'n," said the mate, walking aft to where Morris was
+standing, near the wheel. "The critters have seen us, and that are
+firework means that there aint no vigilantes round abeout. I spose we
+shall hev the lighters along side airly in the mornin'."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said the captain. "I wonder whether Don Martinez is with the
+shore gang."</p>
+
+<p>"Not knowin', can't say," replied the mate. "Most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> likely he is,
+howsomdever&mdash;'cause our cargo is vallable, and he'd be likely to look
+after it."</p>
+
+<p>"You know, Pardon," said the captain, "this is to be our last voyage."</p>
+
+<p>"Edxactly," answered the mate.</p>
+
+<p>"And I hope it will turn out well for the owners. For my part, I'm
+tired of this life. Circumstances induced me to adopt it; but I can't
+say that in my conscience I have ever approved it."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, cap'n, you astonish me!" exclaimed the mate. "You don't mean to
+say that you think it's any harm to cheat the greasers."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes I do," replied the captain, shaking his head. "And I think the
+aggravation of the offence is, that I am an adopted citizen of the
+republic of the stars and stripes. I am engaged in defrauding the
+government of a sister republic."</p>
+
+<p>"A pretty sort er sister republic," replied the mate, disdainfully. "A
+poor, miserable set of thievin', throat-cuttin', monte-playin',
+cattle-stealin', bean-eatin' griffins. If our government had had any
+spunk, we'd have pitched into 'em long ago. And it was only because
+they're weaker than we be, that we haven't licked 'em into spun yarn."</p>
+
+<p>"But suppose, Pardon, we should be (a chance that, thank Heaven, has
+never yet occurred) overhauled by one of their revenue cutters."</p>
+
+<p>"The little Zanthe could walk away from her like a racer from a plough
+horse."</p>
+
+<p>"But, supposing we were surprised, and lay where we couldn't run."</p>
+
+<p>"Cap'n," said Pardon, glancing along the grim batteries of the Zanthe,
+"do you see them are lovely bull dogs? And them are sturdy Jacks
+what's a sittin' on the breeches<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> of the guns? What on airth was they
+made for? A couple of broadsides, starboard and larboard, would settle
+the hash of the smartest revenue cutter that ever dipped her fore foot
+in the water."</p>
+
+<p>"And the after thought would never trouble you, Pardon?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never! 'shelp me, Bob," replied the mate, energetically. "Greasers
+isn't human bein's. Besides, it's all fair play, life for life, and
+the gentleman with the single fluke tail take the loser. Haint they
+set a price on our heads? Eight thousand dollars on your'n, and five
+thousand on mine? I never was worth five thousand down at Portland;
+but if they've marked me up too high, it's their own look out. They'll
+never be called upon to pay it. But this sellin' a fellur's head
+standin', like a lot of firewood, is excessively aggravatin', and gets
+a fellur's mad up. But, hallo, cap'n, here comes a shore boat. I'll
+bet it's Don Martinez."</p>
+
+<p>A row boat, manned by eight Mexicans, with a muffled figure in the
+stern sheets, now pulled out for the brig, and soon lay alongside. On
+being challenged, a preconcerted watchword was given in reply, and the
+oars being shipped, a couple of boat hooks held the boat fast at the
+foot of the starboard side-ladder. This done, the person in the stern
+sheets arose and prepared to ascend the brig's side.</p>
+
+<p>"Petticoats, by thunder!" muttered the mate. "What does this mean,
+cap'n?"</p>
+
+<p>Captain Morris was evidently surprised at the sex of his visitor, but
+he assisted and welcomed her on board with the frank courtesy of a
+seaman. The light of a battle lantern that stood upon the harness
+cask, displayed the dark but handsome features of a young Mexican
+se&ntilde;orita, whose small and graceful hand, sparkling with rings,
+gathered her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> silken <i>rebosa</i> around her symmetrical figure, in folds
+that would have enchanted an artist.</p>
+
+<p>"Se&ntilde;or captain," said she, "I bear you a message from Martinez. He
+bade me tell you to land half your cargo here to-morrow, as before
+agreed upon. The remainder goes to Santa Rosara, fifty miles to the
+northward, where he awaits you with a chosen band."</p>
+
+<p>"Se&ntilde;orita," replied the captain, with hesitation, "it were ungallant
+to express a doubt. But ours is a perilous business, and on the mere
+word of a stranger&mdash;though that stranger be an accomplished lady&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"O, I come furnished with credentials, se&ntilde;or," interrupted the lady,
+with a smile; "there is a letter from Martinez."</p>
+
+<p>Captain Morris hastily perused the letter which the lady handed him.
+Its contents vouched for her fidelity, and, intimating that the lady
+was a dear friend of his, and likely to be soon intimately connected
+with him, committed her to the charge of the captain, and requested
+him to bring her on to Santa Rosara on board the brig.</p>
+
+<p>Morris immediately expressed his sense of the honor done him, and
+escorted the se&ntilde;orita below, where he abandoned his state room and
+cabin to her use. Pardon G. Simpkins walked his watch in great ill
+humor, muttering to himself incessantly.</p>
+
+<p>"What in the blazes keeps these here women folks continually emergin'
+from their aliment and mixin' into other spheres? They're well enough
+ashore, but on soundin's and blue water they beat old Nick. And aboard
+a <i>contrabandista</i>, too! It's enough to make a Quaker kick his
+grandmother. Howsomdever, Morris is just soft-headed fool enough to
+like it, and think it all fine fun. I shouldn't wonder if he was ass
+enough to get spliced one of these days,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> and take his wife to sea. I
+think I see a doggarytype of myself took as mate of a vessel that
+sails with a cap'n's wife aboard."</p>
+
+<p>And, chuckling at this idea, he put an extra quid in his mouth, and
+ruminated in a better frame of mind.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning, Mr. Simpkins turned out betimes to prepare for the
+landing of a portion of the cargo; and he was busied in this duty,
+when an incident occurred that might well have startled a less ready
+and self-possessed man than the mate of the Zanthe.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly rounding the headland on the north, a cutter, with the
+Mexican flag flying at her mizzen peak, and the muzzles of her guns
+gleaming through the port holes, came in view of the astonished mate.
+She stood into the bay, till within rifle shot of the bow of the
+Zanthe, when she dropped her sails and came to anchor.</p>
+
+<p>As she accomplished this man&oelig;uvre, the mate mustered the crew, run
+out his guns, which were all shotted, and then quietly roused the
+captain and brought him on deck.</p>
+
+<p>"That looks a little wicked, cap'n," said the mate, pointing at the
+revenue cutter.</p>
+
+<p>The captain shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, cap'n," said the mate, briskly, "just speak the word, and I'll
+give him my starboard battery before the slow-motioned critter fires a
+gun."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," said the captain; "wait!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Simpkins looked fixedly at the captain, thrust his hands deep into
+the pockets of his pea jacket, and sitting down on the breech of a
+gun, whistled Yankee Doodle in such slow time that it sounded like a
+dead march.</p>
+
+<p>In another minute, a barge was lowered from the side of the Mexican
+cutter, and manned with armed sailors, while an officer in uniform
+took his seat in the stern sheets.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The barge pulled alongside, Captain Morris neither hailing nor
+offering to take any action in the premises. Leaving only a boatkeeper
+in the barge, the Mexican officer, followed by his crew, sprang up the
+ladder, and bounding on deck, struck his drawn sword on the capstan,
+and announced the Zanthe as his prize.</p>
+
+<p>"To whom shall I have the honor of surrendering?" asked Captain
+Morris, touching his hat.</p>
+
+<p>"My name," said the officer, glancing from a paper he held in his
+hand, as he spoke, "is Captain Ramon Morena, of the Vengador cutter.
+You, I presume, are Captain Morris, of the Zanthe."</p>
+
+<p>Morris bowed.</p>
+
+<p>"And you are Pardon G. Simpkins, I suppose," said the Mexican,
+addressing the mate.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon G. Simpkins&mdash;five thousand dollars," replied that gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain Morena," said Morris, "before we proceed to business, do me
+the favor to walk into my cabin. While we are below," he added, "I
+trust your men will be ordered not to maltreat my poor fellows."</p>
+
+<p>The Mexican captain glanced, with some surprise, at the formidable
+array of men upon the deck of the Zanthe, and then, after a few words
+in Spanish to his boat's crew, followed the captain and mate into the
+cabin.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Morena was a very fine looking man of thirty, with magnificent
+hair and mustaches, and wore a very showy uniform. He threw himself
+carelessly upon the transom, and laid his sword upon the cabin table,
+while Morris and the mate seated themselves on camp stools.</p>
+
+<p>"Se&ntilde;or capitan," said Morris, "I trust, though it be early in the day,
+that you have no objection to take a glass of wine with me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The Mexican assented to the proposition, and the steward produced a
+bottle, glasses, and cigars.</p>
+
+<p>"Your health, capitan," said Morris, with a courteous smile; "and may
+you ever be as successful as on the present occasion."</p>
+
+<p>"Muchas gracias se&ntilde;or," replied the Mexican; "you bear the loss of
+your brig very good humoredly. What may she be worth?"</p>
+
+<p>"She cost thirty thousand dollars in Baltimore," replied Morris.</p>
+
+<p>"You must regret to lose her."</p>
+
+<p>"That admits no question, se&ntilde;or."</p>
+
+<p>"But that is of minor importance, compared with your other loss."</p>
+
+<p>"What loss?"</p>
+
+<p>"The loss of your life. I fear nothing can save you or your friend
+here. Yet, perhaps, intercession may do something. I suppose you would
+prefer being shot to hanging from the yard-arm."</p>
+
+<p>"Decidedly," answered Morris.</p>
+
+<p>"Or working for life on the highway, with a ball and chain, you would
+think preferable to both."</p>
+
+<p>"Cap'n Morris," said the mate, speaking in English, "it strikes me
+that our friend in the hairy face is a leetle grain out in his
+reckoning; 'pears to me, that instead of our bein' in his power, he's
+in ourn. Just say the word, and I'll gin the Vengador a broadside
+that'll sink her in the shiver of a main topsail."</p>
+
+<p>"You are right, Pardon," said the captain, smiling; "the gentleman has
+missed a figure, certainly. Captain Morena," he added, speaking in
+Spanish, "you have made a small mistake; you are <i>my</i> prisoner, sir.
+Nay, start not; you are completely in my power. Dare but to breathe
+another word<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> of menace, or offer to resist me, and the Vengador shall
+go to Davy Jones. Pass me that sword."</p>
+
+<p>Morena, taken by surprise, obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>"Gi' me his toastin' fork, cap'n," said the mate, "and I'll lock it up
+in my state room;" which was done almost as soon as said.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, Captain Morena," said Morris, "just walk on deck and explain
+matters to your people, and then I'll show you how fast a Yankee crew
+and Mexican lightermen can unload a contrabandista."</p>
+
+<p>They adjourned to the deck, and the Mexican captain was compelled to
+remain an inactive witness, while boat load after boat load of
+contraband goods was landed under his own eyes, and the very guns of
+his cutter. When the work was finished, Captain Morris approached
+Morena, and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Captain, I have a word to say to you. I am going up the coast fifty
+miles, to land the remainder of my cargo at Santa Rosara. Give me your
+word that you will not follow and molest me, that you will not breathe
+a word of what you have seen and heard, and I will restore your sword
+and release you on <i>parole</i>."</p>
+
+<p>The revenue captain gave the required pledge, and his sword was
+restored; after which his men were permitted to man the barge.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, captain, one bumper at parting," said the hospitable Morris.
+"The steward has just opened a fresh bottle, and besides I have a
+pleasant surprise for you."</p>
+
+<p>As they entered the cabin, Morena started back and uttered an
+exclamation as his eyes fell on the beautiful face and graceful figure
+of the Mexican se&ntilde;orita, who had taken her seat at the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Maria!" he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied the lady, with sparkling eyes and height<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span>ened color. "I
+have escaped your power. The man who basely sought to coerce my
+inclinations has been baffled, and ere another sun has set, I shall be
+the bride of the smuggler Martinez."</p>
+
+<p>"Malediction!" cried the Mexican.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, come, cap'n," said the mate, "take a horn, and settle your
+proud stomach."</p>
+
+<p>"Never," said the Mexican. "A curse on all of ye!" and he sprang to
+the deck, threw himself into his barge, and was soon aboard of the
+cutter.</p>
+
+<p>As the clipper brig, with all her canvas set, and her larboard tacks
+aboard, bowed gracefully to the freshening breeze, and bowled away
+under the stern of the Mexican cutter, the mate said to the captain,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Cap'n, I wish you'd just let me give that fellur a broadside, if it
+was only just to clean the guns, afore I run 'em in."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," replied the captain, smiling, "honor bright, my boy. We'll
+keep our word to him."</p>
+
+<p>"That's more than he'll do to us," answered the mate, "or I don't know
+the natur of a greaser. One broadside from our starboard battery would
+settle him, and save all future trouble, and make every thing pleasant
+and comfortable on all sides."</p>
+
+<p>But Captain Morris would not listen to reason, and so the guns were
+secured, and the ports closed, and the little Zanthe went bounding on
+her course to Santa Rosara.</p>
+
+<p>She came to anchor in a deep bay which she entered at nightfall, and
+almost immediately a shore boat, under the command of Martinez,
+boarded the brig. The meeting between the smuggler and his bride was
+so affectionate, as to call a tear even into the eye of Mr. Pardon G.
+Simpkins. The smuggler laughed loudly when he heard of the
+discom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span>fiture of Captain Morena, the discarded suitor of the se&ntilde;orita
+Maria.</p>
+
+<p>The next day all hands were employed in landing the remainder of the
+cargo, and at night a very worthy and accommodating priest came off
+from the shore, and united Martinez and Maria in the bonds of holy
+matrimony. The nuptials were celebrated with great rejoicings and
+revelry, and the fun was kept up till a late hour of the night, when
+the happy couple retired to the cabin.</p>
+
+<p>The first faint streaks of dawn were beginning to appear in the east,
+when the ever vigilant ear of the mate, who never took a wink of sleep
+while the brig was lying on shore, detected the cautious plunge of
+oars, and soon he descried a barge pulling towards the brig.</p>
+
+<p>"Catch a weazle asleep," said the Yankee to himself; "these greasers
+don't know as much as a farrer hen." And without arousing the captain,
+he quietly mustered the crew, and with as little noise as possible,
+the guns were run out upon the starboard side, which the boat was fast
+approaching.</p>
+
+<p>A moment after he hailed. No answer was given, but the light of the
+lanterns flashed on the arms of a large body of men, and the mate
+recognized the figure of the captain of the Vengador in the stern
+sheets.</p>
+
+<p>"Sheer off," shouted the mate, "or by the shade of Gin'ral Jackson,
+I'll blow you all to Davy Jones."</p>
+
+<p>"Pull for your lives," shouted the voice of Morena; and the boat
+bounded towards the brig.</p>
+
+<p>"Fire!" cried the mate.</p>
+
+<p>Crash went the guns! The iron hurtled through the air, and the
+splintering of wood, as the metal struck the barge, was distinctly
+heard amid the groans and shrieks of the vigilantes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In one moment it was all over. Morris and Martinez rushed to the deck.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter, Pardon?" asked the former.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothin', cap'n&mdash;cap'n, nothin'," answered the mate. "Only there aint
+quite so many greasers in the world at present, as there was five
+minutes since. Morena broke his parole, and tried to board us by
+surprise, and I gin' him my starboard battery&mdash;that's all."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'm off for blue water!" cried the captain.</p>
+
+<p>"And I for the mountains!" said Martinez. "The mules are all packed
+and the horses saddled. The vigilantes must wear sharp spurs if they
+catch us."</p>
+
+<p>It was a hurried parting&mdash;that of the smuggler and his bride with the
+captain and mate of the Zanthe. But they got safely on shore, and the
+whole band effected their escape.</p>
+
+<p>The Zanthe spread her wings, and some days afterwards was crossing the
+equator. She was never known again as a free trader. The captain and
+mate had both "made their piles," and after arriving at the Atlantic
+states retired from sea. Pardon G. Simpkins took up his residence in
+Boston, and during the late war with Mexico, was very prominent in his
+denunciations of that republic, and very liberal in his donations to
+the Massachusetts regiment, to the members of which his parting
+admonition was, to "give them greasers fits."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_STAGE-STRUCK_GENTLEMAN" id="THE_STAGE-STRUCK_GENTLEMAN"></a>THE STAGE-STRUCK GENTLEMAN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Few amateurs of the drama have passed through their town lives,
+without having been, at some one period of their career, what is
+called stage struck, afflicted with a maniacal desire to make a "first
+appearance," to be designated in posters as a "<span class="smcap">Young Gentleman of
+this City</span>," in connection with one Mr. Shakspeare, the "author of
+certain plays." The stage-struck youth is easily recognized by certain
+symptoms which manifest themselves at an early stage of the disorder.
+He is apt to pass his hand frequently through his "horrent locks," to
+frown darkly without any possible reason, and to look daggers at his
+landlady when invited to help himself to brown-bread toast. His voice,
+in imitation of the "Boy," the "Great American tragedian," alternates
+between the deep bass of a veteran porker and the mellifluous tenor of
+a "pig's whisper." He is apt to roll his eyes quickly from side to
+side, to gasp and heave his chest most unaccountably. He reads nothing
+of the papers but the theatrical advertisements and critiques. He has
+an acquaintance with two or three fourth-rate stock actors and a scene
+shifter, and is consequently "up" in any amount of professional
+information and slang, which he retails to every one he meets, without
+regard to the taste or time of his auditors. Have you seen the new
+drama of the Parricidal Oysterman? If you have, you must agree with
+him it is the greatest affair old Pel. has ever brought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> out; if you
+have not, you must submit to his contemptuous pity for your ignorance.
+For a person who passes his evenings in the society of books and
+friends, or in the country, the stage-struck gentleman has the most
+profound contempt. How one can live without nightly inhaling the odor
+of gas and orange peel, is to him a mystery inexplicable. He is aided
+and abetted in his practices by the sympathy and example of other
+stage-struck youths, all "foredoomed their fathers' soul to cross,"
+all loathing their daily avocations for the time being, all spending
+their earnings, or borrowings, or stealings, on bits of pasteboard
+that admit them to their nightly banquet. The stage struck always copy
+the traits of the leading actor of the hour, whoever he may be, and
+grunt and bluster in imitation of "Ned"&mdash;meaning Forrest&mdash;or quack and
+stutter <i>&agrave; la</i> "Bill"&mdash;that is, Macready&mdash;as the wind of popular favor
+veers and changes. It is curious, at a representation of the
+"Gladiator," to winnow these young gentlemen from the mass by the lens
+of an opera glass. There you may see the knit brows, the high shirt
+collars, the folded arms, the pursed-up lips, the hats drawn down over
+the eyes, that are the certain indications of the stage-struck
+Forrestians.</p>
+
+<p>If, after the performance, fate and a designing oysterman place you in
+the next box to three or four of these geniuses, you will, unless very
+much of a philosopher, be disgusted, for the time being, with human
+nature. Their paltry imitations, their miserable brayings, their
+misquotations from Shakspeare, their mendacious accounts of interviews
+with the "Boy," will be enough to drive you mad. Some such thing as
+the following will occur:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><i>Waiter.</i> Here are your oysters, <i>gentlemen</i>; ("a slight shade of
+irony in the emphasis.")</p>
+
+<p><i>Stage-struck Youth, No. 1</i>, (in a deep guttural tone.) "Let em come
+in&mdash;we're armed!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span></p>
+
+<p><i>Stage-struck Youth, No. 2</i>, (to waiter.) "Red ruffian, retire!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Stage-struck Youth, No. 3</i>, (to Stage-struck Youth, No. 4.) "How are
+you <i>now</i>, Dick?"</p>
+
+<p><i>Stage-struck Youth, No. 4.</i> "Richard's himself again!"</p>
+
+<p><i>O, Dii immortales!</i> can these things be? In other words, <i>can</i> such
+<i>animals</i> exist?</p>
+
+<p>It has been calculated by a celebrated mathematician, that out of
+every fourteen dozen of these stage-struck young gentlemen, one
+actually makes a first appearance. This event causes an enormous
+flutter in the circle of aspirants from which the promotion takes
+place. As the eventful night approaches, the most active and
+enterprising among them besiege the newspapers with elaborate puffs of
+their <i>confr&egrave;re</i>, a column long, and are astonished and enraged that
+editors exclude them entirely, or exscissorize them to a dozen lines.
+Of what importance is the foreign news, in comparison with the first
+appearance of Bill Smithy in the arduous character of Hamlet? Has
+Colonel Greene no sympathy with struggling genius? Or is it the result
+of an infernal plot of the actors to put down competition, and sustain
+a professional monopoly?</p>
+
+<p>The stage-struck young gentleman has passed through the fiery ordeal
+of "rehearsals," has been duly pushed and shaken into his "suit of
+sables," glittering with steel bugles, his hands have been adorned
+with black kids, his plumed hat rests upon his brow, his rapier
+dangles at his side. The curtain goes up and he is pushed upon the
+stage. His first appearance is the signal for a thundering round of
+generous applause, in which his faithful fellow-Forrestians are
+leading <i>claquers</i>. But the audience soon discover that he is a "guy"
+escaped from the <i>surveillance</i> an anxious mother. The stage-struck
+young gentleman is "goosed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> Storms of hisses or bursts of ironical
+applause greet every sentence that he utters, and the curtain finally
+falls on his disgrace. This generally cures the disease of which we
+have been speaking. A night of agony, a week of pain, and the young
+gentleman, disenchanted and disenthralled, looks back upon his
+temporary mania with feelings of humiliation and surprise, cuts his
+aiders and abettors, and betakes himself seriously to the rational
+business of life.</p>
+
+<p>But there are some stage-struck gentlemen whom nothing can convince of
+their total unfitness for the stage. You may hiss them night after
+night, you may present them with bouquets of carrots, and wreaths of
+cabbage leaves and onions, and leather medals, and services of tin
+plate; and if you find them "insensible to kindness," you may try
+brickbats&mdash;but in vain. They will cling to the stage for life&mdash;living,
+or rather starving, as <i>attach&eacute;s</i> to some theatre, the signal for
+disturbance whenever they present themselves; detected by the lynx
+eyes of the public, whether disguised as Roman citizens or Neapolitan
+brigands, and severely punished for incompetency by heaped-up insult
+and abuse. These men live and die miserably; yet, doubtless, their
+lives are checkered with rays of hope; they regard themselves as
+martyrs, and die with the secret consciousness that they have "acted
+well their parts."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_DIAMOND_STAR" id="THE_DIAMOND_STAR"></a>THE DIAMOND STAR;</h2>
+
+<h5>OR,</h5>
+
+<h3>THE ENGLISHMAN'S ADVENTURE.</h3>
+
+<h4>A STORY OF VALENCIA.</h4>
+
+
+<p>In a fine summer night in the latter half of the seventeenth century,
+(the day and year are immaterial,) Clarence Landon, a handsome and
+high-spirited young Englishman, who had been passing some time in the
+south of Spain, was standing on the banks of the Guadalquiver, in the
+environs of the ancient city of Valencia, watching with anxious eyes
+the fading sails of a small felucca, just visible in the golden rays
+of the rising moon, as, catching a breath of the freshening western
+breeze, they bore the light craft out upon the blue bosom of the
+Mediterranean. Though the scene was one of surpassing beauty, though
+the air was balmy, and came to his brow laden with the fragrance of
+the orange, the myrtle, and the rose, the expression of the young
+man's face was melancholy in the extreme.</p>
+
+<p>"Too late!" he muttered to himself; "too late! It is hard, after
+having ventured so much for them, that I should have been baffled in
+my attempt to escape with them. However, they are safe and happy. If
+this breeze holds, they will soon pass Cape St. Martin. Dear Estella,
+how I value this pledge of your friendship and gratitude."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And the young man, after raising to his lips a small diamond star,
+attached to a golden chain, deposited the trinket in his bosom, and
+then, with a parting glance at the distant vessel, turned homewards in
+the direction of the city gates.</p>
+
+<p>Absorbed in his own reflections, he did not notice that his footsteps
+were dogged by a tall figure, muffled in a black cloak, which pursued
+him in the moonlight, like his shadow, and left him only when he
+entered his <i>posada</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Landon spent some time in his room in reading and arranging letters
+and papers; and when the clock of a neighboring cathedral sounded the
+hour of eleven, threw himself upon his bed without undressing, and was
+soon asleep. From a disturbed and unrefreshing slumber, crowded with
+vexatious visions, he was suddenly and rudely roused by a rough hand
+laid upon his shoulder. He started upright in bed, and gazed around
+him with astonishment. His chamber was filled by half a dozen
+sinister-looking men, robed entirely in black, in whom he recognized,
+not without a shudder, the dreaded familiars of the Holy Office, the
+officials of the Inquisitorial Tribune. His first impulse was to grope
+for his arms; but his sword and pistols had been removed. A rough
+voice bade him arise and follow, and he had no choice but to obey the
+mandate. Preceded and followed by the familiars, who were all armed,
+as he judged by the clash of steel that attended each footstep, though
+no weapons were apparent, he descended the staircase, came out upon
+the street, and was conducted through many a winding lane and passage
+to a low-browed arch, which opened into the basement story of a huge
+embattled building, that rose like a fortress before him. The
+conductor of the band halted here, and knocking thrice upon an oaken
+door, studded with huge iron nails, it was opened silently, and the
+party entered a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span> dark, subterranean passage of stone, lighted only by
+a smoky cresset lamp swinging in a recess.</p>
+
+<p>After passing through this corridor, Landon was conducted into a huge
+vaulted hall, dimly illuminated by the branches of an iron chandelier,
+by whose light he discovered in front of him a raised platform, on
+which were seated three men, robed in black, while before them, at a
+table, sat two others, similarly attired, with writing implements
+before them. On the platform was planted a huge banner, the blazon on
+the folds of which was a wooden cross, flanked by a branch of olive
+and a naked sword, the motto being, "<i>Exurge, Domine, et judica causam
+tuam.</i>" <i>Rise, Lord, and judge thy cause.</i> It wanted neither this
+formidable standard, nor the implements of torture scattered around,
+to convince the young Englishman that he stood in the halls of the
+Inquisition.</p>
+
+<p>After being permitted to stand some time before the judges, that his
+mind might be impressed with the terrors of the place, the principal
+Inquisitor addressed him, demanding his name.</p>
+
+<p>"Clarence Landon," was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Your birthplace?"</p>
+
+<p>"London, England."</p>
+
+<p>"Your age?"</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty-five years."</p>
+
+<p>"Occupation?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am a gentleman of fortune, with no pursuit but that of knowledge
+and pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>"You are accused," said the judge, "of having aided and abetted a
+countryman of yours, named Walter Hamilton, in seducing and carrying
+off Estella Martinez, a lady of a noble house, and a sister of St.
+Ursula. How say you, guilty or not guilty?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I am not guilty&mdash;I am not capable of the infamy with which you charge
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"He refuses to confess," said the judge, turning to a familiar, the
+sworn tormentor. "We must try the question. Sanchez, is the rack
+prepared?"</p>
+
+<p>The man addressed was a brawny, muscular ruffian, with a livid and
+forbidding countenance, whose dark eyes sparkled with pleasure as he
+bowed assent to the interrogation.</p>
+
+<p>"Hold!" cried Landon. "The truth can no longer harm any but myself;
+and though you may inflict death upon me, you shall not enjoy the
+fiendish satisfaction of mutilating my limbs with your horrid
+enginery. I did aid Hamilton, not indeed in ruining an injured maiden,
+but in rescuing from the thraldom she abhorred a lovely lady whom
+Providence formed to make the happiness of an honorable man. By this
+time Estella is a happy bride."</p>
+
+<p>"Her joys will be shortened," said the inquisitor, frowning. "They
+cannot long elude the power of Rodrigo d'Almonte, at once judge of the
+Holy Office and governor of Valencia."</p>
+
+<p>"Moderate your transports, governor," replied the Englishman, boldly;
+"the fugitives are beyond your reach. This very night a swift-winged
+felucca bore them away from these accursed shores, to a land of
+liberty and happiness."</p>
+
+<p>The brow of Rodrigo grew black as night.</p>
+
+<p>"Insolent!" he answered; "you have outraged and set at naught the
+authority of church and state; your life shall pay the forfeit."</p>
+
+<p>"Be it so," replied Landon, folding his arms; "but let me tell you,
+that for every drop of blood shed, my country<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> will demand a life. The
+cross of St. George protects the meanest subject of the English
+crown."</p>
+
+<p>Rodrigo d'Almonte made no reply, but waving his hand, Landon was
+removed from the tribunal and thrown into a dungeon on the same floor
+with the hall of torture.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Towards the close of a sultry summer day, the narrow streets of
+Valencia wore an aspect of unusual activity and life, filled, as they
+were, with representatives of every class of citizens. The tide of
+human beings seemed to be setting in one direction, towards a plaza,
+or square, in the centre. The Alameda was deserted by its fashionable
+promenaders; and young and old&mdash;all, indeed, who were not
+bedridden&mdash;were at length congregated in the square. The attraction
+was soon explained; for in the centre of the plaza was seen a lofty
+platform of wood, on which was erected a stout stake or pillar, to
+which was affixed an iron chain and ring. Around this were heaped, to
+the height of several feet, huge fagots of dry wood, ready for the
+torch. A large body of men-at-arms kept the crowd back from a large
+open space around the platform. These preparations were made, so the
+popular rumor ran, for the punishment of a young Englishman, who had
+aided a Spanish nun in the violation of her vows.</p>
+
+<p>The numerous bells of the city were tolling heavily; and at length,
+after the patience of the populace had been nearly exhausted, the head
+of a column of men, marching in slow time, was seen to enter upon the
+plaza. First came the governor's guard, their steel caps and cuirasses
+and halberds polished like silver. After these, walked the officials
+of the Inquisition, and some friars of the order of St. Dominic,
+surrounding the unfortunate Landon, who wore the <i>corazo</i>, or pointed
+cap, upon his head, and the <i>san benito</i>, a robe painted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span> all over
+with flames and devils, typifying the awful fate which awaited him. He
+ascended the scaffold with a firm step, while the <i>cort&eacute;ge</i> ranged
+themselves around it; and the governor of Valencia, mounted on a
+splendid barbed charger, and wearing his inquisitorial robes over his
+military uniform, rode into the square, amid the <i>vivas</i> of the crowd
+and the presented arms of the troops, and made a sign for the ceremony
+to proceed.</p>
+
+<p>As an officer, appointed for the purpose, was about to read the
+sentence, a great tumult arose in the square, and attracted the
+attention of all the spectators.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the meaning of this, Alvarez?" asked the governor, addressing
+one of his lieutenants.</p>
+
+<p>"The people, please your excellency, have got hold of Isaac, the rich
+Jew, and insist on his beholding the august spectacle of the <i>auto da
+fe</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"The unbelieving dog has never liked these brave shows," answered the
+governor, with a grim smile, "since his well-beloved brother,
+Issachar, expiated his heresy on this spot in the great auto, when we
+burned twenty of his tribe before the king. Beshrew my heart! he
+abuses my clemency in permitting him to hold house and gold here in
+Valencia. He shall behold the execution! Make room there, and drag him
+into the heart of the hollow square."</p>
+
+<p>The cruel order was obeyed; and the old Jew, who was a mild and
+venerable-looking man, was forced into the centre of the plaza, whence
+he could have a full view of the horrid scene about to be enacted.</p>
+
+<p>But the indignities to which he had been subjected aroused a latent
+spark of fire even in the soul of the aged Hebrew. He lifted up his
+voice and cried aloud:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Spaniards! Christians! are ye men, or are ye brutes? Fear ye not the
+vengeance of Heaven, when ye enact deeds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> that would make the savage
+blush? Think ye that Heaven will long withhold its vengeance from
+atrocities that cry aloud to it night and day&mdash;that the innocent blood
+ye have spilt will sink, unavenged, into the earth? Fear and tremble,
+for the hour of wrath and woe is at hand!"</p>
+
+<p>The energy and eloquence with which he spoke sent a strange thrill of
+terror through the crowd. The governor, alone insensible to fear,
+shouted from his saddle:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Tremble for yourself, Isaac! for, by the rood! if you dare question
+the justice of the Holy Office, you shall share the fate of yonder
+prisoner."</p>
+
+<p>"I fear not the wrath of man," replied the Jew; "fear you the wrath of
+Heaven!"</p>
+
+<p>And at this moment, as if in vindication of his words, a heavy clap of
+thunder, that shook the city like the discharge of a park of
+artillery, broke upon the ear; and one of those sudden storms, so
+common in southerly latitudes, rolled up its dark masses of clouds,
+and the light of day was suddenly quenched, as in an eclipse. Vivid
+flashes of lightning lit the upturned and terror-stricken faces of the
+cowering multitude. At the same time, the wind howled fiercely through
+the streets that debouched upon the plaza, and tore the plumage that
+waved and tossed upon the helmets of the soldiery.</p>
+
+<p>"Executioner!" roared the governor, whose high, stern tones of
+military command were heard above the roar of the sudden tornado, "do
+your duty! Set fire to the fagots!"</p>
+
+<p>The order was obeyed; the torch was applied, and already a quivering,
+lurid flame shot up at the feet of the luckless Landon, when the storm
+burst forth with ungovernable fury. The scaffolding was blown down,
+the fragments scattered, and the rain, descending in torrents,
+instantly quenched both torch and fagot. The vast crowd was thrown
+into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> utter confusion; the terrified horses of the cavalry plunged
+madly among the footmen; hundreds fell and were trampled under foot;
+and prayers, shrieks, and imprecations filled the darkened air.</p>
+
+<p>Landon was unhurt amid the wreck of the sacrificial pyre. A ray of
+hope shot up in his heart. Scrambling out of the ruins, unobserved and
+unpursued, he fled down the nearest lane with the utmost speed.
+Anxious to obtain shelter, he, without even a thought, climbed a
+garden wall; once within which he was safe, for a moment, from
+pursuit. Rushing through a shaded alley of the garden, he found
+himself at the door of a large and splendid house. Almost without a
+hope of finding it yield, he tried the handle, and the door opened.
+Silently and swiftly he ascended a large, stone staircase, and took
+refuge in the first apartment which he found before him. A beautiful
+young girl, the only occupant of the room, starting at the fearful
+apparition of a stranger flying for his life, in the robe of the <i>san
+benito</i>, fell upon her knees and crossed herself repeatedly, as her
+dark eyes were fixed in terror on the intruder.</p>
+
+<p>"Lady!" cried Landon, "for the love of that Being whom we both
+worship, though in a different form, take pity on a wretched
+fellow-being. Save me! save me!"</p>
+
+<p>"You are accursed and condemned," she answered, rising and recoiling.</p>
+
+<p>"I am! I am!&mdash;but you know my offence. If you ever loved yourself, you
+know how to pardon it. Think of the horrid fate which awaits me, if
+you are pitiless."</p>
+
+<p>The lady paused and reflected, Landon watching the expression of her
+countenance with the most intense anxiety. At length her brow cleared
+up; there was an expression of sweetness about her rosy lips that
+revived hope in the heart of the fugitive.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I will save you if I can," she answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Heaven's best blessing on you for the word!" exclaimed the
+Englishman.</p>
+
+<p>"But you have come to a dangerous place for shelter and safety," she
+continued, sadly. "Do you know whose house this is? It is the dwelling
+of my father, Don Rodrigo d'Almonte, the governor of Valencia."</p>
+
+<p>Landon started back in terror, but he instantly recovered from that
+feeling.</p>
+
+<p>"You, then," he said, "are Donna Florinda, in praise of whose beauty
+and goodness all Valencia is eloquent. I feel that I am safe in your
+hands."</p>
+
+<p>"I will never betray you," said the lady. "You are safe here. It is my
+bed chamber," she continued, blushing; "but I resign it to you&mdash;sure,
+from your countenance, that you are a cavalier of honor, who will
+never give me cause to repent of the step."</p>
+
+<p>"Be sure of that."</p>
+
+<p>"Swear it," she said, "upon this trinket, which my father took from
+your person in the hall of the Inquisition."</p>
+
+<p>Landon took from Florinda's hand the diamond star given him by
+Estella, and thus mysteriously restored, and pressed it to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"By this talisman," he said, "by this token, which I prize so highly,
+I pledge myself not to abuse your confidence, but to repay the
+priceless service you render me by a life of gratitude."</p>
+
+<p>"You may remain here, then, for the present," said Florinda, "till I
+can think what can be done for you."</p>
+
+<p>"If I can only make my way to the house of the English ambassador,"
+replied Landon, "I think I can count upon my safety."</p>
+
+<p>Donna Florinda, after lighting a lamp, (for it was now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span> nightfall,)
+and setting upon a table some wine and fruit, left the chamber,
+locking the door behind her.</p>
+
+<p>Descending to the garden, she went directly to a secluded arbor,
+embowered in foliage, at no great distance from the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Cesareo!" she whispered.</p>
+
+<p>A young cavalier, who was concealed in the arbor, instantly advanced,
+and clasped her in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear Florinda," he cried, "I feared that you would disappoint me. But
+we have yet some happy moments to pass together."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a moment, Cesareo," replied the lady; "my father will soon
+return. I come to beg you to retire instantly, and await another
+opportunity of meeting."</p>
+
+<p>"You are anxious to get rid of me!" replied the cavalier.</p>
+
+<p>"Not so; my father will soon return, and he will be sure to inquire
+for me directly."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, then," said the lover, "if it must be so, go you to the house,
+and leave me the solitary pleasure of watching the window of the room
+gladdened by your presence."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, Cesareo," cried Florinda, in terror, "that must not be."</p>
+
+<p>As she said this, her eyes were instinctively turned to the window of
+her room, and Cesareo's followed the same direction. The shadow of
+Landon's figure, as it passed between the lamp and the window, was
+seen defined distinctly on the curtain.</p>
+
+<p>"By Heaven!" cried Cesareo, "there is a man in your bed chamber!"</p>
+
+<p>"My father!" said Florinda.</p>
+
+<p>"You told me in your last breath that he had not re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span>turned. You are
+playing me false, Florinda. You have a lover, and a favored one."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" cried the agonized girl. "It is nothing, believe me&mdash;trust
+not appearances. I will explain all."</p>
+
+<p>But at this moment the distant clang of trumpets and kettledrums was
+heard, announcing the governor's return.</p>
+
+<p>"I must begone!" cried Florinda; "believe me, I am faithful;" and with
+these words she fled into the house.</p>
+
+<p>"The dream is over!" said Cesareo. "But I will have vengeance on my
+rival;" and he left the garden, muttering curses, and grasping the
+cross hilt of his sword.</p>
+
+<p>Florinda flew to her chamber.</p>
+
+<p>"Fly!" she cried to Landon. "I have sheltered you at the risk of my
+reputation&mdash;my father is returning, and you must leave this house. A
+jealous lover may denounce me, and both of us be ruined forever.
+Farewell; climb the wall at the back of the garden, and take refuge in
+the next house. I will still watch over you."</p>
+
+<p>Landon obeyed, and made his escape from the governor's garden just as
+Don Rodrigo was entering his court yard. He crossed another small
+garden, and entered a small house at the extremity, the door of which
+was unbarred, and again found refuge in a room on the first floor,
+where he concealed himself behind a screen.</p>
+
+<p>He had not been here long before he heard footsteps entering the room,
+and the voices of two persons in conversation, one of whom was
+evidently a female, and the other an old man.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear father!" said the female, "I am rejoiced to see that you are
+returned. You never go forth in this city that you do not leave me
+trembling for your safety."</p>
+
+<p>"I have passed through much peril, Miriam," replied the man. "Snares
+and violence have beset my path. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span> went to carry the gold and the
+silver I had promised to Jacob, the goldsmith, when, lo! I was beset
+by the ungodly rabble."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear father!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yea! and they dragged me to their place of skulls&mdash;even to their
+accursed Golgotha, where the blood of mine only brother was drunken by
+the ravening flames, and where thirty of our brethren perished because
+they believed in the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob."</p>
+
+<p>"And did they force you to witness the <i>auto da fe</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"They brought me to the place, Miriam&mdash;but there the spirit of
+prophecy descended upon me, and I lifted up my voice and denounced
+their abominations, even as the prophet of old did the iniquities of
+the Egyptian king. And lo! Miriam, there was a miracle wrought. The
+voice of Heaven spake in thunder to rebuke their impious
+bloodthirstiness. The floodgates of heaven were opened, and the rain
+descended in mighty torrents, and quenched the Moloch fires kindled by
+the Christians. And a great wind arose, and the scaffold was
+destroyed, and the goodly youth that stood thereupon was saved from
+the death of fire as the multitude were scattered."</p>
+
+<p>"And lives he, father?"</p>
+
+<p>"I fear not," answered the old man, sadly. "For if he were not crushed
+by the falling scaffold, yet verily the cruel swords of the troopers
+and the men-at-arms must have sought out his young life."</p>
+
+<p>At this moment, Landon stepped from his concealment.</p>
+
+<p>"No, my friends," said he, "I yet live to thank Heaven for its
+providential care. I have even found a friend in the household of my
+bitter enemy, for Donna Florinda d'Almonte sheltered me, and commended
+me to your roof."</p>
+
+<p>He now had time to scan the persons of his hosts. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span> elder, Isaac,
+the Jew, was, as we described him on his appearance in the plaza, a
+man of venerable appearance, with a mild and noble countenance,
+wearing the long beard and flowing robes of his race. His daughter,
+Miriam, had the commanding beauty, the dark eyes, the flowing hair,
+and the bold features of the daughters of Israel. She was richly clad
+in robes of silk, and many a jewel of price gleamed in the raven
+tresses of her hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Thou art safe beneath this roof," said the Hebrew, "for Donna
+Florinda, though the daughter of the man of tiger blood, hath yet
+befriended us and ours, and for her sake as well as for thine, thou
+art welcome."</p>
+
+<p>Landon thanked his new friends for their hospitable pledges.</p>
+
+<p>"I would fain," said the old Hebrew, "give thee garments more fitting
+than the accursed robe that wraps thy youthful limbs. But of a truth I
+have none of Spanish fashion, and the Jewish gabardine is almost as
+fatal to the wearer as the robe of the <i>san benito</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Here comes Reuben," said Miriam. "Welcome home, dear brother."</p>
+
+<p>A handsome youth of sixteen entered at this moment, and saluted his
+father, his sister, and the stranger. He bore a bundle in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"I was charged," he said, "by the lady Florinda, to bear this packet
+to the stranger I should find here. It contains a Spanish dress. She
+bid me say," he continued, addressing Landon, "that when you have put
+on these habiliments, you can repair with me to the governor's garden
+at midnight. The waiting maid and confidant will conduct you through
+the house to the street, and once there you can make your way to the
+English ambassador's."</p>
+
+<p>After thanking the youthful messenger, Landon was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> shown to an
+apartment, where he was left alone to change his dress. Donna Florinda
+had supplied him with a plain but handsome cavalier's suit, including
+mantle, hat, and plume, and in addition to these, a good sword. Landon
+hailed this latter gift with joy, and buckled the belt with trembling
+eagerness. He drew the weapon, and found it to be a Toledo blade of
+the best temper. He kissed the sword with ecstasy.</p>
+
+<p>"Welcome!" he cried, "old friend! With you I can cut through odds, and
+at least sell my life dearly, if I fall again into the hands of the
+Philistines."</p>
+
+<p>Returning to his new friends, he sat down to a hearty meal which they
+had prepared for him, and to which he did an Englishman's justice. At
+the hour of twelve, his young friend Reuben signified his readiness to
+accompany him on his adventure.</p>
+
+<p>"Farewell!" he cried; "I owe you a debt that nothing can repay. But
+believe me that your kindness will always dwell in the heart of
+Clarence Landon."</p>
+
+<p>Reuben and the Englishman were soon in the governor's garden. It was
+pitch dark, and they advanced cautiously, groping their way. All at
+once Landon stumbled against some person.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it you, Reuben?" said he, in a low tone.</p>
+
+<p>But he was instantly grasped by the throat. Dealing his unknown
+assailant a blow with his clinched hand, which made him release his
+hold, the Englishman instantly drew his sword and threw himself on
+guard. His steel was crossed by another blade, and a fierce encounter
+ensued, the combatants being practised swordsmen, and guided, in the
+dark, by what swordsmen term the "perception of the blade." Reuben had
+made his escape, and gone to inform his father of this new disaster.
+The struggle was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span> brief, for the antagonist of Landon, closing at the
+peril of his life, and being a man of herculean strength, wrested the
+sword from the Englishman's grasp, and held him at his mercy.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, dog!" whispered the victor, "have you any thing to offer why I
+should not take your life as a minion of the tyrant Rodrigo?"</p>
+
+<p>"I scorn to ask my life of an unknown assassin," replied Landon; "but
+I am no minion of Rodrigo's, and I was even now seeking to escape his
+clutches."</p>
+
+<p>"If there was light here," said the stranger, "I could see whether you
+lied, friend, by your looks. You may be palming off a tale upon me.
+How did you propose to escape Rodrigo?"</p>
+
+<p>"By making my way through his house," answered Landon.</p>
+
+<p>"A likely tale. How are you to gain access to his house?"</p>
+
+<p>"A waiting maid was to let me in."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'll test your veracity. I have your life in my hands. You are
+unarmed; I have rapier and dagger. The experiment costs me nothing."</p>
+
+<p>"It would be idle in me to interrogate you," said Landon; "it would be
+idle to ask who you are."</p>
+
+<p>"I will answer you frankly," replied the stranger; "I am one of those
+freebooters whose fortunes are their swords. If I were in Rodrigo's
+power, my life would not be worth five minutes' purchase; and yet I am
+seeking him to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"You speak in riddles."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps; but be silent now, if you value your life, and follow me."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger, still retaining a firm grasp upon the luckless Landon,
+approached a door which led into the governor's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span> house, showing, in
+their progress, a perfect acquaintance with the labyrinthian alleys of
+the garden. They halted, and a female voice spoke in a whisper,
+saying, "Here's the key."</p>
+
+<p>The stranger grasped it, and dragging Landon into the house, instantly
+locked the door behind him. A dark lantern was placed on the floor of
+the corridor; the stranger told Landon to take this up, and precede
+him up stairs. Landon obeyed, the stranger following close behind, and
+giving him whispered directions as to his course.</p>
+
+<p>Having reached a certain door, the stranger took the light and entered
+a chamber, followed by the wondering Englishman. The walls of the room
+were heavily draped, and upon a huge bed the governor of Valencia was
+reclining, buried in a deep slumber.</p>
+
+<p>"He sleeps!" whispered the stranger in the ear of Landon; "he sleeps,
+as if he had never shed blood&mdash;as if the head of my brother had never
+fallen on the block by the hand of his bloody executioner. He will
+soon sleep sounder."</p>
+
+<p>"What mean you?" asked Landon.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait and see," was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger cautiously lifted the light in his left hand, bending
+over the sleeper, while with his right he drew a broad, sharp poniard
+from his belt, and raised it in the act to strike. But just as it was
+descending, Landon caught the assassin's arm, and shouted in his
+loudest tones,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Don Rodrigo, wake!"</p>
+
+<p>"Baffled!" cried the ruffian, with an oath. "You shall pay with your
+life for interfering."</p>
+
+<p>The governor sprang from his bed in time to witness the deadly
+struggle between Landon and the midnight assassin. It was short and
+decisive, for as the robber was aiming a blow at his antagonist, the
+latter changed the direction, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span> it was buried to the hilt in his
+own heart. He fell, and died without a groan. The noise of the
+struggle had aroused the household, and the servants came pouring into
+the room with lights, accompanied by Donna Florinda, who was agonized
+with terror.</p>
+
+<p>"Dear father!" she cried, rushing into the governor's arms, "what does
+this mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"It means," replied Don Rodrigo, "that this ruffian, who had sworn to
+take my life because I had condemned his brother to death for manifold
+misdeeds, has been slain in the attempt by this young man."</p>
+
+<p>"And do you recognize your generous savior?" exclaimed the daughter.
+"Behold! it is the young Englishman you condemned to perish at the
+stake. O father!" And she explained the manner in which Landon had
+been enabled to save the governor's life.</p>
+
+<p>"Young man," said the governor, addressing Landon with deep emotion,
+"a mightier Power than the hand of man is visible in this. For the
+life you have saved I will repay you in the same manner. I insure you
+a full and free pardon, and you shall not have it to say that Don
+Rodrigo d'Almonte, bad as he has been represented, was a monster of
+ingratitude."</p>
+
+<p>And he kept his word. Landon soon after set sail for England, in
+company with the Hebrew family who had sheltered him, and there, in
+due time, was united to the lovely Miriam, with whose beauty he had
+been impressed on first sight. In England, he rejoined Hamilton and
+his Spanish bride, to secure whose happiness he had perilled his own
+life; and he always preserved Estella's diamond star as a memorial of
+his adventures in Valencia. Soon after his arrival he received a
+letter from Donna Florinda, announcing her marriage to Cesareo, whose
+jealousy had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span> been so signally excited by Landon's shadow on the
+window curtain. When Don Rodrigo died, he was buried with all the
+honors due to a soldier, a governor, and an eminent member of that
+mild and benevolent institution, the Spanish Inquisition. </p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_GAME_OF_CHANCE" id="THE_GAME_OF_CHANCE"></a>THE GAME OF CHANCE.</h2>
+
+<h3>CHAPTER I.</h3>
+
+
+<p>At nightfall, on an autumnal evening, when the stars were just
+beginning to twinkle overhead like diamonds on a canopy of azure, two
+young men were standing together, engaged in conversation on the steps
+of the Black Eagle, a fashionable hotel in one of the principal
+streets of the gay and celebrated city of Vienna. One of them wore the
+rich uniform of an Austrian hussar; the other was clad in the civic
+costume of a gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>"So, all is completed at the ministry of war, except the signature of
+the commission, and the payment of the purchase money?" said the
+soldier.</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly so."</p>
+
+<p>"And to-morrow, then," continued the hussar, "I am to congratulate you
+on the command of a company, and salute you as Captain Ernest
+Walstein."</p>
+
+<p>The last speaker was Captain Christian Steinfort, an officer who had
+seen some two years' service.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! my boy!" continued he, twirling his jet black mustache, "your
+uniform will be a passport to the smiles of the fair. But you already
+seem to have made your way to the good graces of Madame Von Berlingen,
+the rich widow who resides at this hotel."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Bah! she is forty," answered Ernest, carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"But in fine preservation, and a beauty for all that," said Captain
+Steinfort. "The Baron Von Dangerfeld was desperately in love with her;
+but within a few days, the widow seems rather to have cut him. You are
+the happy man, after all."</p>
+
+<p>"Undeceive yourself, my dear Christian," said Ernest, blushing; "I
+have only flirted with the handsome widow. My hand is already engaged
+to a charming girl, Meena Altenburg, the playmate of my infancy,
+adopted and brought up by my good father. I am to marry her as soon as
+I get my company."</p>
+
+<p>"And what is to support you, Captain Ernest?"</p>
+
+<p>"My pay, of course, and the income of the moderate dowry my father,
+who is well enough off for a farmer, proposes to give his favorite.
+So, you see my lot in life is settled."</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely so," replied the captain. "But since you are free this
+evening, I engage you to pass it with me. Have you got any money about
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"A good deal. Besides the price of my company, which is safely stowed
+away in bank notes in this breast pocket, I have a handful of ducats
+about me, with which I propose purchasing some trinkets for my bride.
+But I have a gold piece or two that I can spare, if&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Poh! poh! I'm well enough provided," answered the captain. "You know
+this is pay day. Come along."</p>
+
+<p>"But whither?"</p>
+
+<p>"You shall see."</p>
+
+<p>With these words, the captain thrust his arm within that of his
+companion, and the pair walked off at a rapid rate. After passing
+through several streets, Steinfort halted, and rang at the door of a
+stately mansion. It was opened by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span> a servant in handsome livery, and
+the young gentlemen entered and went up stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Walstein soon found himself in a scene very different from any of
+which he had ever dreamed of in his rustic and simple life upon his
+father's farm. Around a large table, covered with cloth, were seated
+more than a dozen persons of different ages, all so intent upon what
+was going forward, that the captain and his friend took their seats
+unnoticed. At the head of the table sat a man in a gray wig, with a
+pair of green spectacles upon his nose, before whom lay a pile of
+gold, and who was busily engaged in paying and receiving money, and in
+giving an impetus to a small ivory ball, which spun at intervals its
+appointed course. Walstein soon learned that this was a
+<i>rouge-et-noir</i> table. The gentleman in the gray wig was the banker.</p>
+
+<p>"Make your game, gentlemen," said this individual, "while the ball
+spins. Your luck's as good as mine. It's all luck, gentlemen, at
+rouge-et-noir. Rouge-et-noir, gentlemen, the finest in all the world.
+Black wins; it's yours, sir&mdash;twenty ducats, and you've doubled it.
+Make your game&mdash;black or red."</p>
+
+<p>"Try your fortune, Ernest," said the captain. Ernest mechanically put
+down a few ducats on the red.</p>
+
+<p>"Red wins," said the banker, in the same monotonous tone. "Make your
+game, gentlemen, while the ball rolls."</p>
+
+<p>Why need we follow the fortunes of Ernest on this fatal evening, as he
+yielded, step by step, to the seduction to which he was now exposed
+for the first time in his life? Long after Steinfort left the gambling
+house, he continued to play. His luck turned. He had soon lost all his
+winnings, and the money set apart for his bridal presents. Still the
+ball rolled, and he continued to stake. He had broken the package of
+bank notes, the money he had re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span>ceived from his father for the
+purchase of his commission; and though he saw bill after bill swept
+away before his eyes, he continued to play, in the desperate hope of
+winning back his losses. At length his last ducat was gone. He rose
+and left the room, the last words ringing in his ears being,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Make your game, gentlemen, while the ball rolls."</p>
+
+<p>Despairing and heart-stricken, the young man sought his hotel and his
+chamber. On the staircase he encountered Madame Von Berlingen, but he
+saw her not. His eyes were glazed. He did not notice or return her
+salutation. He threw himself upon his bed without undressing, and
+towards morning fell into an unrefreshing and dream-peopled slumber.</p>
+
+<p>When he arose, late the next day, he looked at himself in the glass,
+but scarcely recognized his own face, so changed was he by the mental
+agonies he had undergone. When he had paid some little attention to
+his toilet, he received a message from Madame Von Berlingen,
+requesting the favor of an interview in her apartments. He
+mechanically obeyed the summons, though ill fitted to sustain a
+conversation with a lady.</p>
+
+<p>The widow requested him to be seated.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Walstein," said she, with a smile, "you are growing very
+ungallant. I met you last night upon the staircase; but though I spoke
+to you, you had not a word or a nod for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Last night, madam," answered the unfortunate young man, "I was beside
+myself. O madam, if you knew all!"</p>
+
+<p>"I do know all," replied the lady.</p>
+
+<p>"What! that I had been gambling&mdash;that I had thrown away&mdash;yes, those
+are the words&mdash;every ducat of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span> money my poor father furnished me
+with to purchase my commission?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know all that. But the loss is not irreparable."</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, madam. My father, though reputed wealthy, is unable to
+furnish me with a similar sum, even if I were base enough to accept it
+at his hands."</p>
+
+<p>"But if some friend were to step forward."</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! I know none."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Walstein," said the lady, "I am rich. A loan of the requisite
+amount would not affect me in the least."</p>
+
+<p>"O madam!" cried the young man, "if you would indeed save me by such
+generosity, you would be an angel of mercy."</p>
+
+<p>"What is the amount of your loss?" inquired the lady, calmly, as she
+unlocked her desk.</p>
+
+<p>"Three thousand ducats," answered Ernest. "But I can give you no
+security for the payment."</p>
+
+<p>"Your note of hand is sufficient," said the lady, handing the young
+man a package of notes. "Please to count those, and see if the sum is
+correct. Here are writing materials."</p>
+
+<p>Ernest did as he was bid&mdash;counted the money, and then sat down at the
+desk.</p>
+
+<p>"Write at my dictation," said the lady.</p>
+
+<p>Ernest took up a pen and commenced.</p>
+
+<p>"The date," said the lady.</p>
+
+<p>Ernest wrote it.</p>
+
+<p>"Received of Anna Von Berlingen the sum of three thousand ducats."</p>
+
+<p>Ernest wrote and repeated, "three thousand ducats."</p>
+
+<p>"In consideration whereof, I promise to marry the aforesaid Anna Von
+Berlingen."</p>
+
+<p>"To marry you?" exclaimed Ernest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ay&mdash;to marry me!" said the lady. "Am I deformed&mdash;am I ugly&mdash;am I
+poor?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot do it&mdash;you know not the reason that induces me to refuse."</p>
+
+<p>"Then go home to your father and confess your guilt."</p>
+
+<p>Ernest reflected a few moments. He could not go home to his father
+with the frightful tale. It was a question between suicide and
+marriage&mdash;he signed the paper.</p>
+
+<p>"Now then, baron," said the widow to herself, as she carefully secured
+the promise, "you cannot say that you broke the heart of Anna by your
+cruelty. Take the money, Ernest," she added aloud; "go and purchase
+your commission."</p>
+
+<p>Ernest obeyed. His dreams of yesterday morning had all been dissipated
+by his own act; he felt a degraded and broken-spirited criminal. He
+had sold himself for gold.</p>
+
+
+<h3>CHAPTER II.</h3>
+
+
+<p>"Here comes Captain Ernest!" cried a youthful voice. And a beautiful,
+blue-eyed girl of nineteen stood at the garden gate of a pretty farm
+house, watching the approach of a horseman, who, gayly attired in a
+hussar uniform, was galloping up the road. At her shout of delight, a
+sturdy old gray-haired man came forth and stood beside her.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain Ernest!" he repeated. "That sounds well. When I was of his
+age, I only carried a musket in the ranks. I never dreamed then that a
+son of mine could ever aspire to the epaulet."</p>
+
+<p>Ernest, waving his hand to Meena Altenburg and his father, rode past
+them to the stable, where he left his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span> horse. He then rushed into the
+farm house where his father met him.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the meaning of this, boy?" he said. "How wild and haggard you
+look! And you have avoided Meena&mdash;and this, too, upon your wedding
+day."</p>
+
+<p>"My wedding day&mdash;O Heavens! I shall die," said the young man, sinking
+into a seat.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as he could collect himself, he told his father that he could
+not marry Meena, and the reason&mdash;he had pledged himself to another.
+The old man, who was the soul of honor, burst forth in violent
+imprecations, and drove him from his presence. As he left the house,
+the unfortunate young man encountered a person whom he at once
+recognized as the Baron Von Dangerfeld, the reputed suitor of Madame
+Von Berlingen.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been looking for you, Captain Walstein," said the baron,
+sternly.</p>
+
+<p>"And you have found me," answered the young man, shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;and I thank Heaven you wear that uniform. It entitles you to
+meet a German noble, and answer for your conduct."</p>
+
+<p>"I am answerable for my conduct to no living man," retorted Ernest.</p>
+
+<p>"You wear a sword."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well&mdash;if you refuse to give satisfaction for the injury you have
+done me, in robbing me of my mistress, I will proclaim you a coward in
+the presence of the regiment upon parade."</p>
+
+<p>"O, make yourself easy on that score, baron," answered Ernest. "Life
+is of too little worth for me to think of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span> shielding it. If you will
+step with me into the shadow of yonder grove, we can soon regulate our
+accounts."</p>
+
+<p>The two men walked silently to the appointed spot, and without any
+preliminary, drew their swords and engaged in combat. The struggle was
+not of long duration, for Ernest wounded his adversary in the sword
+arm, and disarmed him.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you satisfied?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I must be so for the present," replied the baron, sullenly. "When I
+recover, you shall hear from me again."</p>
+
+<p>"As you please," said Ernest, coldly. "In the mean time, suffer me to
+bind up your arm."</p>
+
+<p>The young man bandaged the wound of his adversary, and as he faltered
+from the loss of blood, led him towards the farm house. As they
+approached it, two ladies advanced to meet them&mdash;one of them was
+Meena, the other Madame Von Berlingen.</p>
+
+<p>"Dangerfeld wounded!" cried the latter, bursting into tears&mdash;"O, I
+have been the cause of this: forgive me&mdash;forgive me, Dangerfeld, or
+you will kill me."</p>
+
+<p>"You forget, madame, that you belong to another."</p>
+
+<p>"I am yours only&mdash;I can never love another. Nor does the person you
+allude to," added the lady, turning to Ernest, "cherish any attachment
+to me."</p>
+
+<p>"My only feeling for you, madame," said Ernest, with meaning, "would
+be gratitude, were a certain paper destroyed."</p>
+
+<p>"What is the meaning of all this?" asked the father of Ernest, coming
+forward.</p>
+
+<p>"It means," said Ernest, tearing to atoms the promissory note he
+received from the widow's hands, "that I had very ugly dreams last
+night&mdash;I dreamed that I played at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span> rouge-et-noir, and lost all the
+money you gave me to purchase my commission with, and then that I made
+up the loss by promising&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" said the widow, laying her finger on her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Then it was all a dream," said the old man.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at my uniform," replied the captain.</p>
+
+<p>"And what did you mean in the story you told me just now?" asked the
+old man.</p>
+
+<p>"Forget it, father," said Ernest. "Dear Meena, look up, my love. It is
+our wedding day; and if you do but smile, I'm the happiest dog that
+wears a sabre and a doliman."</p>
+
+<p>That very day two weddings were celebrated in the farm house, those of
+Captain Ernest Walstein with the Fraulein Meena Altenburg, and Baron
+Von Dangerfeld with the yet beautiful and wealthy widow. The captain
+never tried his luck again at any <span class="smcap">GAME OF CHANCE</span>. </p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_SOLDIERS_SON" id="THE_SOLDIERS_SON"></a>THE SOLDIER'S SON.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Many, many years ago, at the close of a sultry summer's day, a man of
+middle age was slowly toiling up a hill in the environs of the
+pleasant village of Aumont, a small town in the south of France. The
+wayfarer was clad in the habiliments of a private of the infantry of
+the line; that is to say, he wore a long-skirted, blue coat, faced
+with red, much soiled and stained; kerseymere breeches that were once
+white, met at the knee by tattered gaiters of black cloth, an old
+battered chapeau, and a haversack, which he carried slung over his
+right shoulder, on a sheathed sabre. From time to time, he paused and
+wiped the heavy drops of perspiration that gathered constantly upon
+his forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"Courage, Fran&ccedil;ois, courage," said the soldier to himself; "a few
+paces more, and you will reach home. Ah, this is sufficiently
+fatiguing, but nothing to the sands of Egypt. May Heaven preserve my
+eyesight long enough to see my home&mdash;my wife&mdash;my brave boy Victor,
+once more! Grant me but that, kind Heaven, and I think I will repine
+at nothing that may happen further."</p>
+
+<p>It will be seen from the above, that Fran&ccedil;ois Bertrand belonged to the
+army which had recently covered itself with glory in the Egyptian
+campaign, under the command of General Bonaparte, a name already
+famous in military annals. He had fought like a hero in the battle of
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span> Pyramids, when the squares of the French infantry repulsed the
+brilliant cavalry of Murad Bey, and destroyed the flower of the
+Mamelukes by the deadly fire of their musketry. Wounded in that
+memorable battle, he was afterwards attacked by the ophthalmia of the
+country; but his eyesight, though impaired, was not yet utterly
+destroyed. Honorably discharged, he had just arrived at Marseilles,
+from Egypt, and was now on his way home, eager to be folded in the
+arms of his beloved wife and his young son. So the soldier toiled
+bravely up the hill, for he knew that the white walls of his cottage
+and the foliage of his little vineyard would be visible in the valley
+commanded by the summit.</p>
+
+<p>At length he reached the brow of the hill, and gazed eagerly in the
+direction of his humble home; but O, agony, it was gone! In its place,
+a heap of blackened ruins lay smouldering in the sunlight that seemed
+to mock its desolation. Fatigue&mdash;weakness&mdash;were instantly forgotten,
+and the soldier rushed down the brow of the hill to the scene of the
+disaster. At the gate of his vineyard, he was met by little Victor, a
+boy of ten.</p>
+
+<p>"A soldier!" cried the boy, who did not recognize his father. "O sir,
+you come back from the wars, don't you? Perhaps you can tell me
+something about my poor papa?"</p>
+
+<p>"Victor, my boy, my dear boy! don't you know me?" cried the poor
+soldier; and he strained his son convulsively in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"O, I know you now, my dear, dear papa," said the boy, sobbing. "I
+knew you by the voice&mdash;but how changed you are! Why, your mustaches
+are turned gray."</p>
+
+<p>"Victor, Victor, where is your mother?" gasped the soldier.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor mamma!" said the boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Speak&mdash;I charge you, boy."</p>
+
+<p>"She is dead."</p>
+
+<p>"Dead!" Fran&ccedil;ois fell to the ground as if a bullet had passed through
+his brain. When he recovered his senses, he saw Victor kneeling beside
+him, and bathing his head with cold water, which he had brought in his
+hat from a neighboring spring. In a few words, the child told him
+their cottage had taken fire in the night, and been burned to the
+ground, and his mother had perished in the flames.</p>
+
+<p>A kind cottager soon made his appearance, and conducted the
+unfortunate father and son to his humble cabin. Here they passed the
+night and one or two days following. During that time, Fran&ccedil;ois
+Bertrand neither ate nor slept, but wept over his misfortune with an
+agony that refused all consolation. On the third day only he regained
+his composure; but it was only to be conscious of a new and
+overwhelming misfortune. His eyesight was gone. The agony of mind he
+had suffered, and the tears he had shed, had completed the ravages of
+his disorder.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you, Victor?" said the soldier.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, by your side, father; don't you see me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! no, my boy. I can see nothing. Give me your little hand. Your
+poor father is blind."</p>
+
+<p>The agonizing sobs of the boy told him how keenly he appreciated his
+father's misfortune.</p>
+
+<p>"Dry your eyes, Victor;" said the soldier. "Remember the instructions
+of your poor mother, how she taught you to submit with resignation to
+all the sufferings that Providence sees fit to inflict upon us in this
+world of sorrow. Henceforth you must see for both of us; you will be
+my eyes, my boy."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, father; and I will work for you and support you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You are too young and delicate, Victor. We must beg our bread."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Beg</i>, father?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you shall guide my footsteps. There are good people in the world
+who will pity my infirmities and your youth. When they see my ragged
+uniform, they will say, 'There is one of the braves who upheld the
+honor of France upon the burning sands of Egypt,' and they will not
+fail to drop a few sous into the old soldier's hat. Come, Victor, we
+must march. We have been too long a burden on our poor neighbor.
+<i>Courage, mon enfant, le bon temps viendra.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>And so the boy and his father set forth upon their wanderings. Neither
+asked alms; but when seated by the roadside, under the shadow of an
+overhanging tree, the passer-by would halt, and bestow a small sum
+upon the worn and blind soldier. Victor was devoted to his father, and
+Heaven smiled upon his filial affection. Though denied the society and
+sports so dear to his youth, he was always cheerful and happy in the
+accomplishment of his task. Often did his innocent gayety beguile his
+father into a temporary forgetfulness of his sufferings. Then he would
+place his hand upon the boy's head, and stroking his soft, curling
+locks, smile sweetly as his sightless eyes were turned towards him,
+and commence some stirring narrative of military adventure.</p>
+
+<p>In this way, days, weeks, months, and even years rolled by. They were
+every where well received and kindly treated; and all their physical
+wants were supplied. But the old soldier often sighed to think of the
+burden his misfortunes imposed upon his boy, and of his wearing out
+his young life without congenial companionship, without in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span>struction,
+without a future beyond the life of a mendicant. He often prayed in
+secret that death might liberate, his little guide from his voluntary
+service.</p>
+
+<p>One day, Fran&ccedil;ois was seated alone on a stone by the roadside, Victor
+having gone to the neighboring village on an errand, when he suddenly
+heard a carriage stop beside him. The occupant, a man of middle age,
+alighted, and approached the soldier.</p>
+
+<p>"Your name," said the stranger, "is, I think, Fran&ccedil;ois Bertrand."</p>
+
+<p>"The same."</p>
+
+<p>"A soldier of the army of Egypt?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"And that pretty boy who guides you is your son?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is&mdash;Heaven bless him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Amen! But has it never occurred to you, my friend, that you are doing
+him great injustice in keeping him by you at an age when he ought to
+be getting an education to enable him to push his way in the world?"</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! sir, I have often thought of it. But what could supply his
+place? and then, who would befriend and educate him?"</p>
+
+<p>"His place might be supplied by a dog&mdash;and for his protector, I,
+myself, who have no son, should be glad to adopt and educate him."</p>
+
+<p>His son's place supplied by a dog! The thought was agony. And to part
+with Victor! The idea was as cruel as death itself. The old soldier
+was silent.</p>
+
+<p>"You are silent, my friend. Has my offer offended you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No sir&mdash;no. But you will pardon a father's feelings."</p>
+
+<p>"I respect them&mdash;and I do not wish to hurry you. Take a day to think
+of my proposition, and to inform your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span>self respecting my character and
+position. I am a merchant. My name is Eugene Marmont, and I reside at
+No. 17 Rue St. Honor&eacute;, Paris. I will meet you at this spot to-morrow
+at the same hour, and shall then expect an answer. <i>Au revoir.</i>" He
+placed a golden louis in the hand of the soldier, and departed.</p>
+
+<p>A little reflection convinced Bertrand that it was his duty to accept
+the merchant's offer. But cruel as was the task of reconciling himself
+to parting with his son, that of inducing Victor to acquiesce in the
+arrangement was yet more difficult. It required the exercise of
+authority to sever the ties that bound the son to the father. But it
+was done&mdash;Victor resigned his task to a little dog that was procured
+by the merchant, and after an agonizing farewell was whirled away in
+Marmont's carriage.</p>
+
+<p>Years passed on. Victor outstripped all his companions at school, and
+stood at the head of the military academy; for he was striving to win
+a name and fortune for his father. The good Marmont, from time to
+time, endeavored to obtain tidings of the soldier; but the latter had
+purposely changed his usual route, and, satisfied that his son was in
+good hands, felt a sort of pride in not intruding his poverty and
+misfortunes on the notice of Victor's new companions. The boy,
+himself, was much distressed at not seeing or hearing from his father;
+but he kept struggling on, saying to himself, "<i>Courage, Victor&mdash;le
+bon temps viendra</i>&mdash;the good time will come."</p>
+
+<p>On the death of Marmont, he entered the army as a sub-lieutenant, and
+fought his way up to a captaincy under the eye of the emperor. At the
+close of a brilliant campaign he was invited to pass a few weeks at
+the chateau of a general officer named Duvivier, a few leagues from
+Paris. The company there was brilliant, composed of all that was most<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span>
+beautiful, talented, and distinguished in the circle in which the
+general moved. But the "star of that goodly company" was Julie
+Duvivier, the youthful and accomplished daughter of the general. Many
+distinguished suitors contended for the honor of her hand; but the
+moment Victor appeared, they felt they had a formidable rival. The
+belle of the chateau could not help showing her decided preference for
+him, though, with a modesty and delicacy natural to his position, he
+refrained from making any decided advances.</p>
+
+<p>One night, however, transported beyond himself by passion, he betrayed
+the secret of his heart to Julie, as he led her to her seat after an
+intoxicating waltz. The reception of his almost involuntary avowal was
+such as to convince him that his affection was returned. But he felt
+that he had done wrong&mdash;and a high sense of honor induced the young
+soldier immediately to seek the general, and make him a party to his
+wishes.</p>
+
+<p>He found him alone in the embrasure of a window that opened on the
+garden of the chateau.</p>
+
+<p>"General," said he, with military frankness, "I love your daughter."</p>
+
+<p>The general started, and cast a glance of displeasure on the young
+man.</p>
+
+<p>"I know you but slightly, Captain Bertrand," he answered, "but you are
+aware that the man who marries my daughter must be able to give her
+her true position in society. Show me the proofs of your nobility and
+wealth, and I will entertain your proposition."</p>
+
+<p>"Alas!" answered the young soldier in a faltering voice, "I feel that
+I have erred&mdash;pity me&mdash;forgive me&mdash;I was led astray by a passion too
+strong to be controlled. I have no name&mdash;and my fortune is my sword."</p>
+
+<p>The general bowed coldly, and the young soldier passed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span> out into the
+garden. It was a brilliant moonlight evening. Every object was defined
+as clearly as if illuminated by the sun's rays. Removing his chapeau,
+that the night air might cool his fevered brow, he was about to take
+his favorite seat beside the fountain where he had passed many hours
+in weaving bright visions of the future, when he perceived that it was
+already occupied. An old man in a faded military uniform sat there,
+with a little dog lying at his feet. One glance was sufficient&mdash;the
+next instant Victor folded his father in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Father!" "My boy!" The words were interrupted by convulsive sobs.</p>
+
+<p>After the first passionate greeting was over, the old man passed his
+hand over his son's dress, and a smile of joy was revealed by the
+bright moonbeams.</p>
+
+<p>"A soldier! I thought I heard the clatter of your sabre," said the old
+man. "Where did you get these epaulets?"</p>
+
+<p>"At Austerlitz, father&mdash;they were given me by the emperor."</p>
+
+<p>"Long live the emperor!" said the old man. "He never forgets his
+children."</p>
+
+<p>"No, father. For when he gave me my commission, he said, thoughtfully,
+'Bertrand! your name is familiar.' 'Yes, sire&mdash;my father served under
+the tricolor.' 'I remember&mdash;he was one of my old Egyptians.' And
+then&mdash;father&mdash;then he gave me the cross of the legion&mdash;and told me,
+when I found you, to affix it to your breast in his name."</p>
+
+<p>"It is almost too much!" sighed the old soldier, as the young officer
+produced the cross and attached it to his father's breast.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And now," said the young man, "give me your hand as of old, dear
+father, and let me lead you."</p>
+
+<p>"Whither?"</p>
+
+<p>"Into the saloon of the chateau, to present you to General Duvivier
+and his guests."</p>
+
+<p>"What! in my rags! before all that grand company?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why not, father? The ragged uniform of a brave soldier who bears the
+cross of honor on his breast is the proudest decoration in the world.
+Come, father."</p>
+
+<p>Leading his blind father, young Bertrand re&euml;ntered the saloon he had
+so lately left, and went directly to the general, who was standing,
+surrounded by his glittering staff.</p>
+
+<p>"General," said he, "<i>here</i> is my title of nobility&mdash;my father is all
+the wealth I possess in the world."</p>
+
+<p>Tears started to the general's eyes, and he shook the old soldier
+warmly by the hand. Then beckoning to Julie, he led her to Victor, and
+placed her trembling hand in his.</p>
+
+<p>"Let this dear girl," said he, "make amends for my coldness a moment
+since. A son so noble hearted is worthy of all happiness."</p>
+
+<p>In a word, Captain, afterwards Colonel, Bertrand married the general's
+daughter, and the happiness of their fireside was completed by the
+constant presence of the good old soldier, to whose self-denial Victor
+owed his honors and domestic bliss.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="TAKING_CHARGE_OF_A_LADY" id="TAKING_CHARGE_OF_A_LADY"></a>TAKING CHARGE OF A LADY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The steamer Ben Franklin&mdash;it was many years ago, reader&mdash;was just on
+the point of leaving her dock at Providence, when a slender, pale
+young man, with sandy whiskers and green eyes, who had just safely
+stowed away his valise, honorably paid his fare, and purchased a
+supper ticket, and now stood on the upper deck, leaning on his blue
+cotton umbrella in a mild attitude of contemplation, was accosted by a
+benevolent-looking old gentleman, in gold-bowed spectacles, upon whose
+left arm hung a feminine, in a bright mazarine blue broadcloth
+travelling habit, with a gold watch at her waist, and a green veil
+over her face, with the (to a timid young man) startling question
+of,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Pray, sir, will you be so kind as to take charge of a lady?"</p>
+
+<p>The slender young man with the blue cotton umbrella blushed up to the
+roots of his sandy hair, but he bowed deeply and affirmatively.</p>
+
+<p>"We were disappointed in not meeting a friend, sir," continued the
+benevolent-looking old gentleman, "and so I had to trust to chance for
+finding an escort to Fanny. Only as far as New York, sir; my daughter
+will give you very little trouble. She's a strong-minded, independent
+woman, sir, and abundantly able to take care of herself; but I don't
+like the idea of ladies travelling alone. If the boat sinks,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span> sir,
+she's abundantly able to swim ashore. Good by, Fanny."</p>
+
+<p>"Father," said the lady in the blue habit, in a deep and mellow
+baritone,&mdash;rather a queer voice for a woman, though,&mdash;"a parting
+salute!" She threw back her veil, displaying a pair of piercing black
+eyes, kissed the paternal cheek, veiled the black eyes a moment with a
+lace-bordered handkerchief, as her sire descended the gang plank,&mdash;his
+exit being deprived of dignity by the sudden withdrawal of the
+board,&mdash;and then placed her arm within that of the sandy-haired young
+gentleman, and began walking him up and down the promenade deck.</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't this delightful?" said she. "O, what can exceed the pleasure of
+travelling, when one has a sympathizing friend as a companion!" And
+she rather pressed the arm of her companion. She was strong-handed as
+well as strong-minded.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Brown, for that was the name of the timid young gentleman with the
+sandy hair and the blue cotton umbrella, was not particularly
+susceptible, for he had already lost his heart to a sandy-haired young
+lady, who resided in New York; and, besides, he didn't like
+strong-minded women; so he asked, very unromantically, but sensibly,
+if the happy parent of the lady in the blue habit had purchased her a
+ticket.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe&mdash;I am certain that he did not," was the reply. "Father is
+so forgetful!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll do it myself then, ma'am&mdash;if you'll excuse me a moment. What
+name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Brown," said the lady.</p>
+
+<p>"My own name!" cried the young man.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it possible?" cried the blue beauty. "What a coincidence! How
+striking! charming!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She made no offer of money, and Brown invested his own funds in a
+passage and supper ticket.</p>
+
+<p>"You dear creature!" cried the lady, when he handed them to her, "you
+are very attentive. But there was no necessity for this supper ticket.
+I am the least eater in the world."</p>
+
+<p>She said nothing about the cost of the tickets; and how could Brown
+broach the subject?</p>
+
+<p>"There's that bell, at last!" she cried, when the supper bell rang;
+"do let's hurry down, Brown, for people are so rude and eager on board
+steamboats, that unless you move quick you lose your chance."</p>
+
+<p>Brown was hurried along by his fair friend, and she struggled through
+the crowd till she headed the column and got an excellent seat at the
+table. Our sandy-haired friend had exalted opinions of the delicacy of
+female appetites; he had never helped ladies at a ball, or seen them
+in a pantry at luncheon time, and fancied they fed as lightly as
+canary birds. He was rather glad to hear Fanny make that remark about
+the supper ticket on the promenade deck. But now he found she could
+eat. The cold drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead as he
+watched the evidences of her voracity. She was helped four times, by
+the captain, to beefsteak&mdash;no miniature slices either, but huge, broad
+cubes of solid flesh. A dish of oysters attracted her eye, and she
+gobbled them up every one. Toast and hot bread disappeared before her
+ravenous appetite. Sponge and pound cake were despatched with fearful
+celerity. She took up the attention of one particular nigger, and he
+looked weary and collapsed when the supper was finished.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, after all this, Fanny paraded the deck, and had the heart to talk
+about the "orbs of heaven," and Shelley, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span> Byron, and Tennyson, and
+Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Fanny Ellsler, and Schiller. Brown was very
+glad when she retired to the lady's cabin.</p>
+
+<p>The morning he rose late, purposely to avoid her till the boat touched
+the wharf. He engaged a carriage and hunted up the lady's baggage;
+fortunately there was not much of it. This done, he escorted her on
+shore, and handed her into the coach.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, then," said the one-eyed driver,&mdash;he had recently lost his eye
+in a fight, on the first night of his return from Blackwell's
+Island,&mdash;"where away? Oyster House, Merrikin, or Globe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going, madam?" asked Brown.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are <i>you</i> going?" asked the lady.</p>
+
+<p>"To the American, ma'am."</p>
+
+<p>"What a coincidence!" exclaimed the lady, rolling up her black eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"American House, driver."</p>
+
+<p>"All right&mdash;in with you!" cried the one-eyed man, as he pitched Brown
+headlong into the coach, slammed the rickety door on him, sprang to
+his box, and lashed his sorry steeds into a gallop. In due time they
+arrived, and a room was engaged for the lady, and one for her
+cavalier.</p>
+
+<p>Brown went up town as soon as he had dressed, to see his sweetheart,
+taking particular care to say nothing of his namesake, the fair Fanny.</p>
+
+<p>The next day he was promenading Broadway with Miss S., when he was
+confronted, opposite St. Paul's, by a furious man, with black
+whiskers, who halted directly in his path.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you call yourself Brown?" asked the furious man, furiously.</p>
+
+<p>"That's my name, sir," said the sandy-haired young gentleman, meekly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's <i>my</i> name, sir," shouted the furious man. "John Brown. Now you
+know who I am. Do you know Mrs. Brown?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," stammered the unfortunate young man with sandy hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Who did you come from Providence with? answer me that!" roared the
+furious man, getting as black as his whiskers with apoplectic rage.</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I took charge of a lady, certainly," stammered the guiltless but
+confounded young man.</p>
+
+<p>"You took charge of Mrs. Brown, sir&mdash;Fanny Sophonisba Brown, sir, who
+has left my bed and board without provocation, sir,&mdash;<i>vide</i> the
+Providence papers, sir,&mdash;left me, sir, because I didn't approve of her
+strong-minded goings on, sir, her woman's-rights meetings, sir, and
+her nigger colonizations, sir, and her&mdash;but that's enough, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Here Miss Sumker, who was a mild, freckled-faced girl, dropped the arm
+of her companion, and meekly sat down on a doorstep, and covered her
+face with a handkerchief.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Brown, sir!" cried our poor young friend, finally plucking up a
+spirit.</p>
+
+<p>"Go it, lemons!" shouted a listening drayman, as he hung over the
+scene from one of his cart stakes.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain Brown," suggested the furious man, with smothered rage.</p>
+
+<p>"Well then, <i>Captain</i> Brown," said Brown, 2d., spitefully, "the lady
+you allude to is a total stranger to me. She was put under my care by
+a benevolent-looking old gentleman, with gold-bowed spectacles, and
+she has already cost me ten dollars, money advanced on her account."</p>
+
+<p>"All persons are forbidden to trust the same, as I will pay no debts
+of her contracting," said the furious man, with gleams of unmitigated
+ferocity and savage exultation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then I'm done brown, that's all," said the young man, gloomily. "As
+for Mrs. Fanny Sophonisba Brown, I never want to see her face again.
+She is at the American House, and you can recover her by proving
+property and paying charges. And, for my part, I hope I may be kicked
+to death by grasshoppers if ever I take charge of a lady again."</p>
+
+<p>This was the largest speech, probably, that the sandy-haired young man
+had ever made in his life. It was a regular "stunner," though. It
+convinced Miss Sumker, who had for a moment thought of withdrawing the
+light of her freckles from him forever, and who now hastened to
+replace her arm in his; and it convinced Captain Brown, who became
+suddenly as mild as moonbeams, shook his new acquaintance by the hand,
+and declared him a "fine young fellow."</p>
+
+<p>But the drayman was disgusted at the affair ending without a fight,
+and expressed his feelings, as he laid the lash across his horse, by
+the single exclamation, "Pickles!" thereby insinuating that the
+nauseous sweetness of the reconciliation required a strong dash of
+acidity to neutralize its flavor.</p>
+
+<p>The captain regained his strong-minded wife, and our sandy-haired
+friend went home with Miss Sumker, metamorphosed into Mrs. Brown,
+having "taken charge" of her for life.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_NEW_YEARS_BELLS" id="THE_NEW_YEARS_BELLS"></a>THE NEW YEAR'S BELLS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>How the wind blew on the evening of the 31st December, in the
+year&mdash;but no matter for the date. It came roaring from the north,
+fraught with the icy chillness of those hyperborean regions that are
+lost to the sunlight for six months, the realm of ice-ribbed caverns,
+and snow mountains heaped up above the horizon in the cold and
+cheerless sky. On it came, that northern blast, howling and tearing,
+and menacing with destruction every obstacle that crossed its path. It
+dashed right through a gorge in the mountains, and twisted the arms of
+the rock-rooted hemlock and the giant oak, as if they were the twigs
+of saplings. Then it swept over the wild, waste meadows, rattling the
+frozen sedge, and whirling into eddies the few dry leaves that
+remained upon the surface of the earth. Next it invaded the principal
+street of the quaint old village, and played the mischief with the
+tall elms and the venerable buttonwoods that stood on either side like
+sentinels guarding the highway. How the old gilt lion that swung from
+the sign post of the tavern, hanging like a malefactor in irons, was
+shaken and disturbed! Backwards and forwards the animal was tossed,
+like a bark upon the ocean. Now he seemed as if about to turn a
+somerset and circumnavigate the beam from which he hung, creaking and
+groaning dismally all the while, like an unhappy soul in purgatory.
+The loose shutters of the upper story of the tavern chat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span>tered like
+the teeth of a witch-ridden old crone. But cheerful fires of hickory
+and maple were burning within doors; a merry group was gathered in the
+old oak parlor, and little recked the guests of the elemental war
+without. In fact, they knew nothing of it, till the driver of the
+village stage coach, making his appearance with a few flakes of snow
+on his snuff-colored surtout, announced, as he expanded his broad
+hands to the genial blaze, that it was a "wild night out of doors."</p>
+
+<p>But on&mdash;on sped the wild wind, driving the snow flakes before it as a
+victorious army sweeps away the routed skirmishers and outposts of the
+enemy. Away went the night wind on its wild errand, reaching at last a
+solitary cottage on the outskirts of the village. Here it revelled in
+unwonted fury, ripping up the loose shingles from the moss-grown
+rooftree, and forcing an entrance through many a yawning crevice.</p>
+
+<p>The scene within the cottage presented a strange and painful contrast
+to the interior of most of the comfortable houses in the flourishing
+village through which we have been hurrying on the wings of the cold
+north wind. The room was scantily furnished. There were two or three
+very old-fashioned, rickety, straw-bottomed chairs, an oaken stool or
+two, and a pine table. The hour hand of a wooden clock on the mantel
+piece pointed to eleven. A fire of chips and brushwood was smouldering
+on the hearth. In one corner of the room, near the fireplace, on a
+heap of straw, covered with a blanket, two little boys lay sleeping in
+each other's arms. Crouched near the table, her features dimly lighted
+by a tallow candle, sat a woman advanced in life, clad in faded but
+cleanly garments, whose hollow cheeks and sunken eye told a painful
+tale of sorrow and destitution. Those sad eyes were fixed anxiously
+and imploringly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span> upon the stern, grim face of a hard-featured old man,
+who, with hat pulled over his shaggy gray eyebrows, was standing,
+resting on a stout staff, in the centre of the floor.</p>
+
+<p>"So, you haven't got any money for me," said the old man, in the
+harshest of all possible voices.</p>
+
+<p>"Alas! no, Mr. Wurm&mdash;if I had I should have brought it to you long
+ago," answered the poor woman. "I had raked and scraped a little
+together&mdash;but the sickness of these poor children&mdash;poor William's
+orphans&mdash;swept it all away&mdash;I haven't got a cent."</p>
+
+<p>"So much the worse for you, Mrs. Redman," answered the old man,
+harshly. "I've been easy with you&mdash;I've waited and waited&mdash;trusting
+your promises. I can't wait any longer. I want the money."</p>
+
+<p>"You want the money! Is it possible? Report speaks you rich."</p>
+
+<p>"It's false&mdash;false!" said the old man, bitterly. "I'm poor&mdash;I'm
+pinched. Ask the townspeople how I live. Do I look like a rich man?
+No, no! I tell you I want my dues&mdash;and I will have 'em."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't pay you," said the woman, sadly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you must abide the consequences!"</p>
+
+<p>"What consequences?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've got an execution&mdash;that's all," said the hardhearted landlord.</p>
+
+<p>"An execution! what's that?"</p>
+
+<p>"A warrant to take all your goods."</p>
+
+<p>"My goods!" said the poor woman, looking round her with a melancholy
+smile. "Why I have nothing but what few things you see in this room.
+You surely wouldn't take those."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take all I can get."</p>
+
+<p>"And leave me here with the bare walls."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, no! you walk out of this to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>"In the depth of winter! You cannot be so hardhearted."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall see that."</p>
+
+<p>"I care not for myself; but what is to become of these poor children?"</p>
+
+<p>"Send 'em to work in the factory."</p>
+
+<p>"But they are just recovering from sickness; they are too young to
+work. O, where, where can we go?"</p>
+
+<p>"To the poorhouse," said the landlord, fiercely.</p>
+
+<p>The poor woman rose, and approaching the landlord's feet, fell upon
+her knees, clasped her hands, and looked upward in his stern and
+unrelenting face.</p>
+
+<p>"Israel Wurm," she said, "has your heart grown as hard as the nether
+millstone? Have you forgotten the days of old lang syne? O, remember
+that we were once prosperous and happy; remember that misfortune and
+not sin has reduced me and mine to the deplorable state in which you
+find us. Remember that my husband was your early friend&mdash;your
+schoolfellow&mdash;your playmate. Remember that when he was rich and you
+poor, he gave you from his plenty&mdash;freely&mdash;bountifully&mdash;not gave with
+the expectation of a return; his gifts were bounties, not loans."</p>
+
+<p>"Therefore I owed him nothing," said the obdurate miser, turning away.</p>
+
+<p>"You shall hear me out," said the woman, starting to her feet. "I ask
+for a further delay; I ask you to stay the hard hand of the law. You
+profess to be a Christian; I demand justice and mercy in the name of
+those sleeping innocents, my poor grandchildren, whose father is in
+heaven. You <i>shall</i> be merciful."</p>
+
+<p>"Heyday!" exclaimed the miser; "this is fine talk, upon my word. You
+<i>demand</i> justice, do you? Well, you shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span> have it. The law is on my
+side, and I will carry it out to the letter."</p>
+
+<p>"Then," said the outraged woman, stretching forth her trembling hand,
+"the curse of the widow and the orphan shall be upon you. Sleeping or
+waking, it shall haunt you; and on your miserable death bed, when the
+ugly shapes that throng about the pillow of the dying sinner shall
+close around you, our malediction shall weigh like lead upon you, and
+your palsied lips shall fail to articulate the impotent prayer for
+that mercy to yourself which you denied to others. And now begone.
+This house is mine to-night, at least. Afflict it no longer with your
+presence. Go forth into the night; it is not darker than your
+benighted soul, nor is the north wind one half so pitiless as you."</p>
+
+<p>With a bitter curse upon his lips, but trembling and dismayed in spite
+of himself, Israel Wurm left the presence of the indignant victim of
+his cruelty, and turned his footsteps in the direction of his home.
+His <i>home</i>! It scarcely deserved the name. There was no fire there to
+thaw his chilled and trembling frame&mdash;no light to gleam athwart the
+darkness, and send forth its pilgrim rays to meet him and guide his
+footsteps to his threshold. No wife, no children, waited eagerly his
+return. It was the miser's home&mdash;dark, desolate, stern, and repulsive.
+Its deep cellars, its thick walls held hidden stores of gold, and
+notes, and bonds, but there were garnered up no treasures of the
+heart.</p>
+
+<p>The miser's path lay through the churchyard, a desolate place enough
+even in the gay noon of a midsummer day, now doubly repulsive in the
+wild midnight of midwinter. The wall was ruinous. The black iron
+gateway frowned, naked and ominous. The field of death was crowded
+with headstones of slate, and innumerable mounds marked the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span>
+resting-place of many generations. The snow was now gathering fast
+over the dreary and desolate abode, as the miser stumbled along the
+beaten pathway, bending against the blast and drift. A strange
+numbness and drowsiness crept over him. He no longer felt the cold; an
+uncontrollable desire of slumber possessed him. He sat down upon a
+flat tombstone, and soon lost all consciousness of his actual
+situation.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he saw before him the well-known figure of the old sexton of
+the village, busily occupied in digging a grave. The winter had passed
+away; it was now midsummer. The birds were singing in the trees, and
+from the far green meadows sounded the low of cattle, and the tinkling
+of sheep bells. Even the graveyard looked no longer desolate, for on
+many of the little hillocks bright flowers were springing into bloom
+and verdure, attesting the affection that outlived death, and
+decorating with living bloom the precincts of decay.</p>
+
+<p>"My friend, for whom are you digging that grave?" asked Israel.</p>
+
+<p>The sexton looked up from his work, but did not seem to recognize the
+spokesman.</p>
+
+<p>"For a man that died last night; he is to be buried to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Methinks this haste is somewhat indecorous," said Israel Wurm.</p>
+
+<p>"O, for the matter of that," said the sexton, "the sooner this
+fellow's out of the way the better. There's nobody to mourn for him."</p>
+
+<p>"Is he a pauper, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"O no! he was immensely rich."</p>
+
+<p>"And had he no relations&mdash;no friends?"</p>
+
+<p>"For relations, he had a nephew, who inherits all his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span> property. The
+young dog will make the money fly, I tell you. As for friends, he had
+none. The poor dreaded him&mdash;the good despised him; for he was a
+hardhearted, selfish, griping man. In a word, he was a
+<span class="smcap">miser</span>," said the sexton.</p>
+
+<p>"A miser," faltered the trembling dreamer; "what was his name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Israel Wurm," replied the sexton.</p>
+
+<p>Graveyard and sexton faded away; in their place arose a splendid grove
+of trees&mdash;a clearing&mdash;a village school house. Two boys were sauntering
+along the roadside, engaged in serious, childish talk. One was fair,
+with golden locks; the other dark-haired and grave of aspect. Israel
+started, for in the latter he recognized himself&mdash;a boy of fifty years
+ago.</p>
+
+<p>"Israel," said the golden-haired boy, "it's 'lection day to-morrow;
+we'll hire Browning's horse and chaise, and go to Boston, and have a
+grand time on the Common, seeing all the shows."</p>
+
+<p>"You forget, Mark," said the dark-haired boy, sadly, "that I have no
+money."</p>
+
+<p>"What of that?" replied the other; "I have a pocket full; and what's
+mine is yours, you know. Come, cheer up, you'll one day he as rich as
+I am; and then it will be your turn to treat, you know. I can afford
+to be generous, and so would you be, if you had the means."</p>
+
+<p>Then the shadow passed from the face of the dark-haired boy, and a
+smile lighted up his countenance, and the two schoolfellows passed on
+their way together.</p>
+
+<p>Grove and school house passed away, melting into another scene like
+one of the dissolving views. Israel stood before a huge illuminated
+screen, in the midst of a gaping company of sight seers. He could see
+nothing but a confused mass<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span> of heads, vaguely lighted by the rays
+from that vast screen. It was some kind of an exhibition.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, ladies and gentlemen," said a strange voice issuing from the
+darkness, "we shall show you the wonders of the oxy-hydrogen
+microscope; natural objects magnified five thousand times. Look and
+behold the proboscis of the common house fly."</p>
+
+<p>Israel gazed with the rest, and soon a huge object, resembling the
+trunk of a monster elephant, appeared on the illuminated disk. It
+passed away.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, ladies and gentlemen," said the voice, "look well to the
+illuminated screen. What do you see now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing!" was the universal and indignant answer.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought so," replied the voice. "Yet you have before you a miser's
+soul magnified five thousand times; a million such would not produce
+an image on the screen."</p>
+
+<p>The illuminated disk grew dark and disappeared; then a lurid light
+seemed to fill all space; and soon huge billows of flames rolled
+upward, and writhed and twisted together like a myriad of gigantic
+serpents. Shrieks and howls of anguish issued from the fiery mass, but
+above all was heard the startling clangor of a bell.</p>
+
+<p>"Halloo! who's this?" cried a voice that evidently issued from a set
+of powerful human lungs. The miser felt himself roughly shaken by the
+shoulder, and awoke.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the noise?&mdash;fire?" he asked; for the bell he had heard in his
+dream now jarred upon his waking senses.</p>
+
+<p>"Fire! no!" said the man who had awakened him&mdash;the butcher of the
+village. "It's the boys ringing in the new year. By the way, I wish
+you a happy new year, Mr. Wurm."</p>
+
+<p>"A happy new year, Mr. Wurm," said the schoolmaster for he, too, was
+present.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"A happy new year," said Farmer Harrowby.</p>
+
+<p>"And a happy new year" chorused a dozen other voices. It was great fun
+wishing a miser a happy new year.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, neighbors; I wish you a thousand," replied Israel,
+cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"How came you asleep there?" asked Farmer Harrowby. "Why, you might
+have perished in the drift."</p>
+
+<p>"I was overcome by drowsiness," answered Israel. "I was very cold; I'd
+been to make a call on Widow Redman, and the poor soul was out of
+wood. By the way, farmer, the first thing after sunrise, I want you to
+be sure to gear up your ox team, and take a cord of your best hickory
+and pitch pine to the widow."</p>
+
+<p>"And who'll pay me?" asked the farmer, doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I will, to be sure," answered Israel. "Have not I got money enough?
+Here&mdash;hold your hand;" and he put a handful of silver in the farmer's
+honest palm. "And you, Mr. Wilkins," he added, addressing the butcher,
+"take her the best turkey you've got, and half a pig, with my
+compliments, and a happy new year to her."</p>
+
+<p>"And how about that execution?" asked the constable, who was round
+with the rest, 'seeing the old year out and the new year in.'</p>
+
+<p>"Confound the execution! Don't let me hear another word about it,"
+said Israel, magnanimously. "And now, neighbors," he added, "I owe you
+something for your good wishes; come along with me to the Golden Lion,
+and I'll give you the best supper the tavern affords. Hurrah! New year
+don't come but once in a twelvemonth."</p>
+
+<p>We will be bound that a merrier party never left a churchyard, even
+after a funeral, nor a merrier set ever sat down to a festal board,
+than that which gathered to greet the hospitality of Israel Wurm. In
+the course of the even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span>ing, an old Scotch gardener gave it as his
+opinion that the "miser was <i>fey</i>." (When a man suddenly changes his
+character, as when a spendthrift becomes saving, or a niggard
+generous, the Scotch say that he is <i>fey</i>, and consider the change a
+forerunner of sudden death.)</p>
+
+<p>"No, my friends," said Israel, overhearing the remark, "I am not
+<i>fey</i>; and I mean to live a long while, Heaven willing, for I have
+just learned that the true secret of enjoying life is to do good to
+others. I had a dream to-night which has, I trust, made me a wiser and
+better man. The miser lies buried in yonder churchyard; Israel Wurm, a
+new man, has risen in his place; and as far as my means go, I intend
+that this shall be a happy new year to every one of my acquaintances."</p>
+
+<p>Israel was as good as his word, and never relapsed into his old
+habits. The widow and the orphan children were provided for by his
+bounty; he gave liberally to every object of charity. Hospitals,
+schools, and colleges were the recipients of his bounty; and when he
+died, in the fulness of years, the blessings of old and young followed
+him to his last resting-place in the old churchyard where he had
+dreamed the mysterious dream, and been awakened to a better life by
+the pealing of the <span class="smcap">New Year's Bells</span>.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="THE_OLD_YEAR_AND_THE_NEW" id="THE_OLD_YEAR_AND_THE_NEW"></a>THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"O, this is beautiful&mdash;beautiful indeed!" cried a young and silvery
+voice, musical as fairy bells heard at midnight. "How white this snowy
+drapery hangs upon the roofs of these bright palaces!" and the
+speaker, a gay boy, danced trippingly along, following in the
+footsteps of an old, gray-bearded man who was tottering before him.</p>
+
+<p>The old man turned. "You call that snowy drapery beautiful?" said he.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;it is like the raiment of a bride," said the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"To me it seems a shroud thrown over the grave of buried hopes,"
+answered the old man.</p>
+
+<p>"But what are these joy bells ringing for?" said the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"For a death and for a birth!" replied the old man.</p>
+
+<p>"You speak riddles."</p>
+
+<p>"I speak truth. The same sounds have a different import to different
+ears. To mine there is a death knell in these tremulous vibrations of
+the air."</p>
+
+<p>"You are very old, father&mdash;and age has cankered you."</p>
+
+<p>"A twelvemonth since, young child of Time," replied the old man, "I
+was like you."</p>
+
+<p>"A twelvemonth! Your back is bent, your locks are silvery, your voice
+is tremulous. How is this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Wrinkles and gray hairs are the work of sorrows, not of years. Eyes
+that are weary of the sight of suffering grow dim apace."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But hark!" said the youth. "Hear you not that music&mdash;the peals of
+laughter that come from yonder illuminated house? It is a wedding
+festival."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," replied the old man, sadly. "A twelvemonth since, I heard the
+same sounds in the same house. There was music and feasting&mdash;it was,
+as now, a wedding festival. Where is the bride? Go to yonder
+churchyard. You will find her name inscribed on a simple stone. If you
+pass out of the city to the north, you will see some huge buildings of
+brick, towering upon an eminence. If you linger by the garden wall you
+will hear shrieks and curses, the howls of despair, the ravings of
+hopeless lunacy. The husband is there&mdash;the victim of his own evil
+passions&mdash;a raving maniac."</p>
+
+<p>"Away with these croaking reminiscences!" cried the younger voice.
+"Let the music peal&mdash;let the dance go on. The wine is red within the
+cup."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;and the deadly serpent lurks below."</p>
+
+<p>"Then the world is all desolate!" cried the New Year.</p>
+
+<p>"No! there are green spots in the desert!" said the Old Year; "but
+beware of deeming it all fairyland! But a little while and you will
+follow me. But the end is not here&mdash;after Time, Eternity! There
+suffering and sin are unknown. There each departed spirit, after
+making the circuit of its appointed sphere, shall rise to a higher and
+a higher, while boundless love and wisdom illuminate all, radiating
+from a centre whose brightness no human senses can conceive."</p>
+
+<p>The old man was gone. The joyous bells had rung his requiem. The young
+heir was enthroned&mdash;and with mingled hope and foreboding commenced the
+reign of 1853.</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage,
+and Other Tales, by Francis A. Durivage
+
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+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and
+Other Tales, by Francis A. Durivage
+
+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: The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales
+
+Author: Francis A. Durivage
+
+Release Date: February 3, 2006 [EBook #17669]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THREE BRIDES, LOVE IN A ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Sankar Viswanathan,
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                  THE
+
+                             THREE BRIDES,
+
+                          LOVE IN A COTTAGE,
+
+                                  AND
+
+                              OTHER TALES
+
+                                  BY
+
+                         FRANCIS A. DURIVAGE.
+
+
+
+
+
+                                BOSTON:
+                     SANBORN, CARTER, BAZIN & CO.,
+                           25 & 29 CORNHILL.
+
+
+
+
+
+Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by
+
+F.A. DURIVAGE,
+
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
+Massachusetts.
+
+
+
+
+TO
+
+MY MOTHER,
+
+THE FIRST TO ENCOURAGE MY EFFORTS,
+
+AND THE MOST INDULGENT OF MY CRITICS,
+
+THIS VOLUME
+
+IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+The volume here submitted to the public is composed of selections from
+my contributions to the columns of the American press. The stories and
+sketches were written, most of them, in the intervals of relaxation
+from more serious labor and the daily business of life; and they would
+be suffered to disappear in the Lethe that awaits old magazines and
+newspapers, had not their extensive circulation, and the partial
+judgment of friends,--for I must not omit the stereotyped plea of
+scribblers,--flattered me that their collection in a permanent form
+would not prove wholly unacceptable. Some of these articles were
+published anonymously, or under the signature of "The Old 'Un," and
+have enjoyed the honor of adoption by persons having no claim to their
+paternity; and it seems time to call home and assemble these vagabond
+children under the paternal wing.
+
+The materials for the tales were gathered from various sources: some
+are purely imaginative, some authentic, not a few jotted down from
+oral narrative, or derived from the vague remembrance of some old play
+or adventure; but the form at least is my own, and that is about all
+that a professional story-teller, gleaning his matter at random, can
+generally lay claim to.
+
+Some of these sketches were originally published in the Boston "Olive
+Branch," and many in Mr. Gleason's popular papers, the "Flag of Our
+Union," and the "Pictorial Drawing-Room Companion." Others have
+appeared in the "New York Mirror," the "American Monthly Magazine,"
+the New York "Spirit of the Times," the "Symbol," and other magazines
+and papers.
+
+Should their perusal serve to beguile some hours of weariness and
+illness, as their composition has done, I shall feel that my labor has
+not been altogether vain; while the moderate success of this venture
+will stimulate me to attempt something more worthy the attention of
+the public.
+
+FRANCIS A. DURIVAGE.
+
+
+
+
+TABLE OF CONTENTS.
+
+
+THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER.
+
+PHILETUS POTTS.
+
+THE GONDOLIER.
+
+THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS.
+
+THE THREE BRIDES.
+
+CALIFORNIA SPECULATION.
+
+THE FRENCH GUARDSMAN.
+
+PERSONAL SATISFACTION.
+
+THE CASTLE ON THE RHINE.
+
+LOVE IN A COTTAGE.
+
+THE CAREER OF AN ARTIST.
+
+SOUVENIRS OF A RETIRED OYSTERMAN IN ILL HEALTH.
+
+THE NEW YEAR'S STOCKINGS.
+
+THE OBLIGING YOUNG MAN.
+
+EULALIE LASALLE.
+
+THE OLD CITY PUMP.
+
+THE TWO PORTRAITS.
+
+UNCLE OBED.
+
+THE CASKET OF JEWELS.
+
+ACTING CHARADES.
+
+THE GREEN CHAMBER.
+
+HE WASN'T A HORSE JOCKEY.
+
+FUNERAL SHADOWS.
+
+THE LATE ELIAS MUGGS.
+
+THE SOLDIER'S WIFE.
+
+A KISS ON DEMAND.
+
+THE RIFLE SHOT.
+
+THE WATER CURE.
+
+THE COSSACK.
+
+MARRIED FOR MONEY.
+
+THE EMIGRANT SHIP.
+
+THE LAST OF THE STAGE COACHES.
+
+THE SEXTON OF ST. HUBERT'S.
+
+JACK WITHERS.
+
+THE SILVER HAMMER.
+
+THE CHRIST CHURCH CHIMES.
+
+THE POLISH SLAVE.
+
+OBEYING ORDERS.
+
+THE DEACON'S HORSE.
+
+THE CONTRABANDISTA.
+
+THE STAGE-STRUCK GENTLEMAN.
+
+THE DIAMOND STAR.
+
+THE GAME OF CHANCE.
+
+THE SOLDIER'S SON.
+
+TAKING CHARGE OF A LADY.
+
+THE NEW YEAR'S BELLS.
+
+THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW.
+
+
+
+
+THE GOLDSMITH'S DAUGHTER.
+
+A LEGEND OF MADRID.
+
+
+Many, many years ago, in those "good old times" so much bepraised by
+antiquaries and the _laudatores temporis acti_,--the good old times,
+that is to say, of the holy office, of those magnificent _autos_ when
+the smell of roasted heretics was as sweet a savor in the nostrils of
+the faithful, as that of Quakers done remarkably brown was to our
+godly Puritan ancestors,--there dwelt in the royal city of Madrid a
+wealthy goldsmith by the name of Antonio Perez, whose family--having
+lost his wife--consisted of a lovely daughter, named Magdalena, and a
+less beautiful but still charming niece, Juanita. The housekeeping and
+the care of the girls were committed to a starched old duenna, Donna
+Margarita, whose vinegar aspect and sharp tongue might well keep at a
+distance the boldest gallants of the court and camp. For the rest,
+some half dozen workmen and servitors, and a couple of stout Asturian
+serving wenches made up the establishment of the wealthy artisan. As
+the chief care of the latter was to accumulate treasure, his family,
+while they were denied no comfort, were debarred from luxury, and,
+perhaps, fared the better from this very frugality of the master. Yet
+in the stable, which occupied a portion of the basement story of his
+residence,--the other half being devoted to the _almacen_, or
+store,--there were a couple of long-tailed Flemish mares, and a
+heavy, lumbering chariot; and in the rear of the house a garden,
+enclosed on three sides with a stone wall, and comprising arbors, a
+fountain, and a choice variety of fruits and flowers.
+
+One evening, the goldsmith's daughter and her cousin sat in their
+apartment, on the second story, peeping out through the closed
+"jalousies," or blinds, into the twilight street, haply on the watch
+for some gallant cavalier, whose horsemanship and costume they might
+admire or criticize. Seeing nothing there, however, to attract their
+attention, they turned to each other.
+
+"Juanita," said the goldsmith's daughter, "I believe I have secured an
+admirer."
+
+"An admirer!" exclaimed the pretty cousin. "If your father and dame
+Margarita didn't keep us cooped here like a pair of pigeons, we should
+have, at least, twenty apiece. But what manner of man is this
+phoenix of yours? Is he tall? Has he black eyes, or blue? Is he
+courtier or soldier?"
+
+"He is tall," replied Magdalena, smiling; "but for his favor, or the
+color of his eyes, or quality, I cannot answer. His face and figure
+shrouded in a cloak, his _sombrero_ pulled down over his eyes, he
+takes up his station against a pillar of the church whenever I go to
+San Ildefonso with my duenna, and watches me till mass is ended. I
+have caught him following our footsteps. But be he gentle or simple,
+fair or dark, I know not."
+
+"A very mysterious character!" cried Juanita, laughing, "like unto the
+bravo of some Italian tale. Jesu Maria!" she exclaimed, springing to
+the window, "what goodly cavalier rides hither? His mantle is of
+three-pile velvet, and he wears golden spurs upon his heels. And with
+what a grace he sits and manages his fiery genet! Pray Heaven your
+suitor be as goodly a cavalier."
+
+Magdalena gazed forth upon the horseman, and her heart silently
+confessed that the praises of her cousin were well bestowed. As the
+cavalier approached the goldsmith's house, he checked the impatient
+speed of his horse, and gazed upward earnestly at the window where the
+young girls sat.
+
+"Magdalena!" cried the mischievous Juanita, "old Margarita is not here
+to document us, and I declare your beauty shall have one chance." As
+she spoke she threw open the blind, and exposed her lovely and
+blushing cousin to the gaze of the cavalier.
+
+Ardently and admiringly he gazed upon her dark and faultless features,
+and then raising his plumed hat, bowed to his very saddle bow, and
+rode on, but turned, ever and anon, till he was lost in the distance
+and gradual darkening of the street.
+
+"Mutual admiration!" cried the gay Juanita, clapping her hands. "Thank
+me for the stratagem. Yon cavalier is, without a doubt, the mysterious
+admirer of San Ildefonso."
+
+Don Julio Montero--for that was the name of the cavalier--returned
+again beneath the casement, and again saw Magdalena. He also made some
+purchases of the old goldsmith, and managed to speak a word with his
+fair daughter in the shop; and in spite of the duenna, billets were
+exchanged between the parties. The very secrecy with which this little
+intrigue was managed, the mystery of it, influenced the imagination of
+Magdalena and increased the violence of her attachment, and loving
+with all the fervor of her meridian nature, she felt that any
+disappointment would be her death.
+
+One evening, as her secret suitor was passing along a narrow and
+unfrequent street, a light touch was laid upon his shoulder, and
+turning, he perceived a tall figure, muffled in a long, dark cloak.
+
+"Senor Montero," said the stranger, "one word with you." And then,
+observing that he hesitated, he threw open his cloak, and added, "Nay,
+senor, suspect not that my purpose is unfriendly; you see I have no
+arms, while you wear both rapier and dagger. I merely wish to say a
+few words on a matter of deep import to yourself."
+
+"Your name, senor," replied the other, "methinks should precede any
+communication you have to make me, would you secure my confidence."
+
+"My name, senor, I cannot disclose."
+
+"Umph! a somewhat strange adventure!" muttered the young cavalier.
+"However, friend, since such you purport to be, say your say, and that
+right briefly, for I have affairs of urgency on my hands."
+
+"Briefly, then, senor. You have cast your eyes on the daughter of
+Antonio Perez, the rich goldsmith?"
+
+"That is my affair, methinks," replied the cavalier, haughtily. "By
+what right do you interfere with it? Are you brother or relative of
+the fair Magdalena?"
+
+"Neither, senor; but I take a deep interest in your affairs; and I
+warn you, if your heart be not irretrievably involved, to withdraw
+from the prosecution of your addresses. To my certain knowledge,
+Magdalena is beloved by another."
+
+"What of that, man? A fair field and no favor, is all I ask."
+
+"But what if _she_ loves another?"
+
+"Ha!" exclaimed the cavalier. "Can she be sporting with me?--playing
+the coquette? But no! I will not believe it, at least upon the say so
+of a stranger. I must have proofs."
+
+"Pray, senor, have you never observed upon the lady's fair arm a
+turquoise bracelet?"
+
+"Yea, have I," replied the cavalier; "by the same token that she has
+promised it to me as a _gage d'amour_."
+
+"Do you recognize the bracelet?" cried the stranger, holding up, as he
+spoke, the ornament in question. "Or, if that convince you not, do you
+recognize this tress of raven hair--this bouquet that she wore upon
+her bosom yesternight?"
+
+"That I gave her myself!" cried the cavalier. "By Heaven! she has
+proved false to me. But I must know," he added, fiercely, "who thou
+art ere thou goest hence. I must have thy secret, if I force it from
+thee at the dagger's point. Who art thou? speak!"
+
+"Prithee, senor, press me not," said the stranger, drawing his cloak
+yet closer about him, and retreating a pace or two.
+
+"Who art thou?" cried the cavalier, menacingly, and striding forward
+as the other receded.
+
+"One whose name breathed in thine ear," replied the other, "would
+curdle thy young blood with horror."
+
+Julio laughed loud and scornfully.
+
+"Now, by Saint Iago! thou art some juggling knave--some impish
+charlatan, who seeks to conceal his imposture in the garb of mystery
+and terror. Little knowest thou the mettle of a Castilian heart. Thy
+name?"
+
+The stranger stooped forward, and whispered a word or two in the ear
+of his companion. The young man recoiled, while his cheek turned from
+the glowing tinge of health and indignation to the hue of ashes; and,
+as he stood, rooted to the spot in terror and dismay, the stranger
+threw the hem of his cloak over his shoulder, and glided away like a
+dark shadow.
+
+Julio's heart was so far enlisted in favor of Magdalena, that it cost
+him a severe struggle to throw her off as utterly unworthy of his
+attachment, but pride came to his rescue, and he performed his task.
+He wrote a letter, in which, assigning no cause for the procedure, he
+calmly, coldly, contemptuously renounced her hand, and told her that
+henceforth, should they meet, it must be as strangers.
+
+This unexpected blow almost paralyzed Magdalena's reason. It was to be
+expected of her temperament that her anguish should be in proportion
+to her former rapture. At first stunned, she roused to the paroxysm of
+wild despair. Henceforth, if she lived, her life, she felt, would be
+an utter blank. Passion completely overmastering her reason, she
+resolved to destroy herself. This fearful resolution adopted, her
+excitement ceased. She became calm--calm as the senseless stone; no
+tremors shook her soul, no remorse, no regret.
+
+She was seated alone, one evening, at that very window whence she had
+first beheld her false suitor, and bitter memories were crowding on
+her brain, when the door of her apartment opened, and closed again
+after admitting her old duenna, Margarita. The old woman approached
+with a stealthy, cat-like step, and sitting down beside the maiden,
+and gazing inquisitively into her dim eyes, said, in a whining voice,
+intended to be very winning and persuasive,--
+
+"What ails my pretty pet? Is she unwell?"
+
+"I am not unwell," replied Magdalena, coldly, rousing herself to the
+exertion of conversing, with an effort.
+
+"Nay, my darling," said the old woman, in the same whining tone, "I am
+sure that something is the matter with you. You look feverish."
+
+"I am well, Margarita; let that suffice."
+
+"And feel no regret for the false suitor, hey?"
+
+Magdalena turned upon her quickly--almost fiercely.
+
+"What do you know of him?"
+
+"All! all!" cried the old woman, while her gray eyes flashed with
+exultation.
+
+"Then you know him for a false and perjured villain!" cried the
+beautiful Spaniard.
+
+"I know him for an honorable cavalier; true as the steel of his Toledo
+blade!" retorted the duenna. "I speak riddles, Magdalena, but I will
+explain myself. Do you think I can forget your insults, jeers, and
+jokes? Do you think I knew not when you mocked me behind my back, or
+sought to trick me before my face? You little knew, when you and your
+gay-faced cousin were making merry at my expense, what wrath you were
+storing up against the day of evil. But I come of a race that never
+forgets or forgives; there is some of the blood of the wild Zingara
+coursing in these shrivelled veins--a love of vengeance, that is
+dearer than the love of life. I watched your love intrigue from the
+very first. I saw that it bade fair to end in happiness. Don Julio was
+wealthy and well born, and his intentions were honorable. After
+indulging your romantic spirit by a secret wooing, he would have
+openly claimed you of your father, and the old man would have been but
+too proud to give his consent. Now came the moment for revenge. I
+traduced you to your lover, making use of an agent who was wholly
+mine. Trifles produce conviction when once the faith of jealous man is
+shaken. A few toys--a turquoise bracelet, a lock of hair, a bunch of
+faded flowers--sufficed to turn the scale; and now, were an angel of
+heaven to pronounce you true, Don Julio would disbelieve the
+testimony. Ha, ha! am I not avenged?"
+
+"And was it," said Magdalena, in a low, pathetic voice,--"was it for
+a few jests,--a little childish chafing against restraint, that you
+wrecked the happiness of a poor young girl,--blighted her hopes, and
+broke her heart? Woman--fiend! dare you tell me this?" she cried,
+kindling into passion with a sudden transition. "Avaunt! begone! Leave
+my sight, you hideous and evil thing! But take with you my bitter
+curse--no empty anathema! but one that will cling to you like the
+garment of flame that wraps the doomed heretic! Begone! accursed
+wretch--hideous in soul as you are abhorrent and repulsive in person."
+
+Cowed, but muttering wrathful words, the stricken wretch hurried out
+of the apartment, into which Juanita instantly rushed.
+
+"Magdalena, what means this?" she cried. "I heard you uttering fearful
+threats against old Margarita. Calm yourself; you are strangely
+excited."
+
+"O Juanita, Juanita!" cried Magdalena, the tears starting from her
+eyes, and wringing her fair hands. "If you knew all--if you knew the
+wrong that woman has done me; but not now--not now; leave me, good
+cousin,--leave me!"
+
+"You are not well, dearest," said Juanita; "take my advice, go to bed
+and repose. To-morrow you will be calm, and to-morrow you shall tell
+me all."
+
+"To-morrow! to-morrow!" muttered Magdalena. "Well, well; to-morrow you
+will find me!"
+
+"Yes; I will waken you, and sit at your bedside, and laugh your griefs
+away. Good night, Magdalena!"
+
+"Farewell, dearest!" said the heart-stricken girl; and Juanita left
+the chamber.
+
+Before a silver crucifix, Magdalena knelt in prayer.
+
+"Father of mercies, blessed Virgin, absolve me of the sin--if sin it
+be to rush unbidden to the presence of my Judge! My burden is too
+great to bear!"
+
+She rose from her knees, took from a cupboard a goblet of Venetian
+glass, and a flask of Xeres wine. Into the goblet she first dropped
+the contents of a paper she took from her bosom, and then filled it to
+the brim with wine. She had already stretched forth her hand to the
+fatal glass, when she heard her name called by her father.
+
+"He would give me a good-night kiss," said the wretched girl. "I must
+receive it with pure lips. I come, dear father,--I come."
+
+Scarcely had she left her chamber when the old duenna again stole into
+the room.
+
+"If I could only find one of the gallant's letters," she muttered to
+herself, "I could arm her father's mind against her; and then if madam
+tried to get me turned away, she would have her labor for her pains.
+What have we here? A flask of Xeres, as I live! So ho, senorita! Is
+this the source of your inspiration when you berate your betters? I
+declare it smells good; the jade is no bad judge of wine!"
+
+As she spoke, the old woman, who had no particular aversion to the
+juice of the grape, hurriedly drank off the contents of the goblet,
+and immediately filled it up again from the flask.
+
+"There! she'll be no wiser," said she, with a cunning leer. "And now I
+must hurry off. I would not have the young baggage find me here for a
+month's wages!"
+
+Margarita effected her retreat just in time. Magdalena returned, after
+having, as she supposed, seen her poor father for the last time.
+
+Had not despair completely overmastered the reason of the poor girl,
+she would have shrunk from the idea of committing suicide. But misery
+had completely, though temporarily, wrecked her intellect. She felt no
+horror, no remorse at the deed she was about to commit. With a steady
+hand she raised the goblet to her lips, and then drank the fatal
+draught, as she supposed it, to the last dregs.
+
+"I must sleep now," she said, with a deep sigh. "I shall never wake
+again." And throwing herself, dressed as she was, upon her couch, she
+soon fell into a deep slumber.
+
+How long her senses were steeped in oblivion, she could not tell. But
+she was awakened by shrill screams, and started to her feet in terror.
+
+"Where am I?" she exclaimed. "Are those the cries of the condemned? Am
+I indeed in another world?"
+
+"But louder and louder came the shrieks, and now she recognized the
+tones as those of the old duenna. Deeply as the woman had wronged her,
+Magdalena's feminine nature could not be insensible to her distress.
+She sprang down the stairway, and now stood by the bedside of the
+duenna, over which Juanita was already bending.
+
+"What _is_ the matter?" she exclaimed.
+
+"The wine! the wine! the flask of Xeres! the Venetian goblet! I am
+poisoned!" cried the old woman, as she writhed in agony.
+
+The truth instantly flashed on the preternaturally-sharpened intellect
+of Magdalena. Her own immunity from pain confirmed the fatal
+supposition.
+
+"Good God!" she cried, in tones of unutterable anguish, "I have killed
+her!"
+
+The exclamation caught the keen ear of the malignant hag, suffering as
+she was. She raised herself up on her elbow, and pointing with her
+skinny finger to the horror-stricken girl, she screamed,--
+
+"Yes, yes; you have murdered me! Send for a leech, a priest, an
+officer of justice! Do not let that wretch escape! She gave me a
+poisoned draught! she knew it--she confesses it! Ha, ha! I shall not
+die unavenged!"
+
+These fearful words caught the ear of Don Antonio, as, having hastily
+dressed himself, he rushed into the room. They caught the ear, too, of
+a curious servitor, who flew to the alguazil before he summoned priest
+and chirurgeon.
+
+In less than an hour afterwards, the old beldam had breathed her last,
+but not before she had made her false deposition to the officer of
+justice; not before she had learned that a paper containing evidence
+of poison had been found in Magdalena's room; not before she had seen
+the hapless girl arrested; and then she died with a lie and a smile of
+hideous triumph on her lips.
+
+We cannot attempt to describe the anguish of the old goldsmith, and
+the despair of Juanita, as they beheld Magdalena torn from their arms
+to be carried before a judge for examination, and thence to be cast
+into prison. Believing in her innocence, and confident that it would
+be established in the eyes of the world, they longed for the dread
+ordeal of the trial. The hour came, but only to crush their hearts
+within them. The guilt was fixed by circumstantial evidence on the
+unfortunate Magdalena. Poor Juanita was forced to testify to the facts
+of a quarrel between her cousin and the hapless duenna, and to violent
+language used by the former to the latter. A paper which had contained
+poison had been found in the apartment of the accused. Her own hasty
+confession of guilt, the dying declaration of the victim added
+
+           "--confirmation strong
+    As proofs of Holy Writ."
+
+Magdalena was condemned to die. In that supreme hour, when her
+protestations of innocence had proved of no avail, the film fell from
+the organs of her mental vision. Knowing herself guilty of
+premeditated suicide, she saw in the established charge of murder a
+dreadful retribution. To make her peace with Heaven in the solitude of
+the prison cell, was now all that she desired. She had proved the
+worthlessness of life, and now she prepared herself to die. But her
+tortures were not ended. Julio, her lost lover, demanded an interview
+with her, and when, after listening to her sad tale, he renewed his
+vows of love, and expressed his firm belief in her innocence, earth
+once more bloomed attractive to her eyes; life became again dear to
+her at the very moment she was condemned to surrender it. Her
+execution was fixed for the next day, at the hour of noon. At that
+hour, she was to take her last look of her father, her cousin, her
+lover--the last look of God's blessed earth.
+
+The morning came. She had passed the night in prayer, and it found her
+firm and resigned. In the heart of a true woman there lies a reserve
+of courage that shames the prouder boast of man. She may not face
+death on the battle-field with the same defying front; but when it
+comes in a more appalling form and scene, she shrinks not from the
+dread ordeal. When man's foot trembles on the scaffold, woman stands
+there serene, unwavering, and self-sustained.
+
+One hour before the appointed time, the door of Magdalena's cell
+opened, and a tall figure, wrapped in a dark cloak, with a slouched
+hat and sable plume, stood before her. It was the same who had gazed
+on her so often in the church of San Ildefonso, the same who had
+encountered Julio in the narrow street with proofs of her alleged
+falsity.
+
+"Is the hour arrived?" asked Magdalena, calmly.
+
+"Nay," replied the stranger, in a deep tone. "Can you not see the
+prison clock through the bars of your cell door? Look; it lacks yet an
+hour of noon."
+
+"Then, sir, you come to announce the arrival of the holy father,--of
+my friends."
+
+"They will be here anon," said the stranger.
+
+"I do not," said Magdalena, in the same calm tone she had before
+employed, "see you now for the first time."
+
+"Beautiful girl!" cried the stranger; "no! I have for months haunted
+you like your shadow. Your fair face threw the first gleams of
+sunshine into my heart that have visited it from early manhood. I love
+you, Magdalena!"
+
+"This is no hour and no place for words like these," replied the
+captive, coldly.
+
+"Nay!" cried the stranger, with sudden energy. "Beautiful girl, I come
+to save you!"
+
+"To save me!" cried Magdalena, a sudden, wild hope springing in her
+breast,"--to save me! It is well done. Believe me, I am innocent. You
+have bribed the jailer to open my prison doors; you have contrived
+some means of evasion. I know not--I care not what. I shall be freed!
+I shall clasp my father's knees once more. I shall go forth into the
+blessed air and light of heaven. God bless you, whoever you are, for
+your words of hope!"
+
+"You shall go forth, if you will," replied the stranger; "but openly,
+in the face and eyes of man. At my word the prison bars will fall, the
+keys will turn, the gates will be unbarred. I have a royal pardon!"
+
+"Give it me! give it me!" almost shrieked Magdalena.
+
+"It is bestowed on one condition: that you become my wife."
+
+"That I become your wife!" repeated Magdalena, as if she but half
+comprehended the words. "Forsake poor Julio! And yet the bribe, to
+escape a death of infamy, to save my father's gray hairs from going
+down to a dishonored grave! Speak! who are you, with power to save me
+on these terms?"
+
+The stranger tossed aside his sable hat and plume, and dropped his
+cloak, and stood before her in a rich dress of black velvet, trimmed
+with point lace, a broadsword belted to his waist. He was a man of
+middle age, of a fine, athletic figure, and handsome face, but there
+was an indescribable expression in his dark eyes, in the stern lines
+about his handsome mouth, that affected the gazer with a strange,
+shuddering horror.
+
+"Peruse me well, maiden," said the stranger. "I am not deformed. I am
+as other men. If there be no glow in my cheek, still the blood that
+flows through my veins is healthy and untainted. Moreover, though I be
+not noble, my character is stainless. If to be the wife of an honest
+man is not too dear a purchase for your life, accept my hand, and you
+are saved."
+
+"Who are you?" cried Magdalena, intense curiosity mastering her even
+in that moment.
+
+"I am the executioner of Madrid!" replied the stranger.
+
+Magdalena covered her face with her hands, and uttered a low cry of
+horror.
+
+"I am the executioner of Madrid!" repeated he. "I have never committed
+crime in my life, though my blade has been reddened with the blood of
+my fellow-creatures. Yet no man takes my hand,--no man breaks bread or
+drinks wine with me. I, the dread minister of justice, a necessity of
+society, like the soldier on the rampart, or the priest at the altar,
+am a being lonely, abhorred, accursed. Yet I have the feelings, the
+passions of other men. But what maiden would listen to the suit of
+one like me? What father would give his daughter to my arms? None,
+none! And, therefore, the state decrees that when the executioner
+would wed, he must take to his arms a woman doomed to death. I loved
+you, Magdalena, hopelessly, ere I dreamed the hour would ever arrive
+when I might hope to claim you. That hour has now come. I offer you
+your life and my hand. You must be my bride, or my victim!"
+
+"Your victim! your victim!" cried Magdalena. "Death a thousand times,
+though a thousand times undeserved, rather than your foul embrace!"
+
+"You have chosen. Your blood be on your own head!" cried the
+executioner, stamping his foot. "You die unshriven and unblessed!"
+
+"At least, abhorred ruffian," cried Magdalena, "I have some little
+time for preparation! The hour has not yet arrived."
+
+"Has it not?" cried the executioner. "Behold yon clock!"
+
+And as her eyes were strained upon the dial, he strode out of the
+cell, and seizing the hands, advanced them to the hour of noon. Then,
+at a signal from his hand, the prison bell began to toll.
+
+"Mercy; mercy!" cried Magdalena, as he rejoined her. "Slay me not
+before my time!"
+
+But the hand of the ruffian already grasped her arm, and he dragged
+her forth into the corridor.
+
+At that moment, however, a loud shout arose, and a group of officials,
+escorting the goldsmith and Julio, waving a paper in his hand, rushed
+breathlessly along the passage.
+
+"Saved, saved!" cried Magdalena. "Hither, hither, father, Julio!"
+
+The executioner had wreathed his hand in her dark, flowing tresses;
+already his dreadful weapon was brandished in the air, when it was
+crossed by the bright Toledo blade of the young cavalier, and flew
+from his grasp, clanging against the prison wall.
+
+"Unhand her, dog!" cried Julio, "or die the death!"
+
+Sullenly the executioner released his hold, and sullenly listened to
+the royal pardon.
+
+Magdalena was soon beneath her father's roof,--soon in the arms of her
+cousin Juanita. Long did she resist the importunities of Julio; for
+though innocent in fact, judicially she stood convicted of a capital
+offence. But as time rolled on,--as her innocence became the popular
+belief,--she finally relented, accepted his hand, and beneath the
+beautiful sky of Italy, forgot, or remembered only as a dream, the
+perils and sorrows of her early life.
+
+
+
+
+PHILETUS POTTS.
+
+A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.
+
+
+Philetus Potts is dead. Like Grimes, he was a "good old man!" A true
+gentleman of the old school, he clung to many of the fashions of a
+by-gone period with a pertinacity, which, to the eyes of the
+thoughtless, savored somewhat of the ludicrous. It was only of late
+years that he relinquished his three-cornered hat; to breeches,
+buckles, and hair powder he adhered to the last. He was also partial
+to pigtails, though his earliest was shorn from his head by a
+dangerous rival, who cut him out of the good graces of Miss Polly
+Martine, a powdered beauty of the past century, by amputating his cue;
+while his latest one was sacrificed on the altar of humanity--but
+thereby hangs a tale.
+
+If Mr. Potts was behind his age in dress, he was in advance of it in
+sentiment. In his breast the milk of human kindness never curdled, and
+his intelligent mind was ever actively employed in devising ways and
+means to alleviate the sufferings of humanity, and to change the
+hearts of evil doers. His comprehensive kindness included the brute
+creation as well as mankind, in the circle of his active sympathy.
+
+We remember an instance of his sympathy for animals. We had been
+making an excursion into the country. It was high noon of a sultry
+summer day; eggs were cooking in the sun, and the mercury in the
+thermometer stood at the top of the tube. Passing out of a small
+village, we passed a young lady pleasantly and coolly attired in
+white, and carrying a sunshade whose grateful shadow melted into the
+cool, clear olive of her fine complexion.
+
+Mr. Potts sighed, for she reminded him of Miss Polly Martine at the
+same age; and Polly Martine reminded him of parasols by some recondite
+association. Mr. Potts remembered the first umbrella that was brought
+into Boston. He always carried one that might have been the first, it
+was so venerable, yet whole and decent, like an old gentleman in good
+preservation. It was a green silk one, with a plain, mahogany handle,
+and a ring instead of a ferrule, and very large. Discoursing of
+umbrellas, we came upon a cow. Mr. Potts was fond of cows--grateful to
+them--always spoke of them with respect. This particular cow inhabited
+a small paddock by the roadside, which was enclosed by a Virginia
+fence, and contained very little grass, and no provision for shade and
+shelter. So the cow stood in the sunshine, with her head resting on
+the fence, and her tongue lolling out of her mouth, and her large,
+intelligent eyes fixed on the far distance, where a herd of kine were
+feasting knee-deep in a field of clover, beside a running brook,
+overshadowed by magnificent walnut trees.
+
+"Poor thing!" said Mr. Potts; and he stopped short and looked at the
+cow.
+
+The cow looked at Mr. Potts. One had evidently magnetically influenced
+the other.
+
+"She is a female, like the lady we encountered," said Mr. Potts,
+"but," added he, with a burst of feeling, "she has no parasol!"
+
+The assertion was indisputable. It was a truism, cows are never
+provided with parasols,--but then great men are famous for uttering
+truisms, and we venerated Mr. Potts for following the example.
+
+"It is now twelve o'clock!" said Mr. Potts, consulting his repeater.
+"At half past four, the shadow of the buttonwood will fall into this
+poor animal's pasture. Four hours and a half of torture, rendered more
+painful by the contemplation of the luxuries of her remote companions!
+It is insufferable!"
+
+Then Mr. Potts, with a genial smile on his Pickwickian countenance,
+expanded his green silk umbrella, mounted the fence, on which he sat
+astride, and patiently held the umbrella over the cow's head for the
+space of four and a half mortal hours. The action was sublime. I
+regret to add that the animal proved ungrateful, and, when Mr. Potts
+closed his umbrella on the shadow of the buttonwood relieving guard,
+facilitated his descent from the Virginia fence by an ungraceful
+application of her horns to the amplitude of his venerable person.
+
+It was in the summer following, that the incident I am about to relate
+occurred. It was fly-time,--I remember it well. We were again walking
+together, when we came to a wall-eyed horse, harnessed to a dog's meat
+cart, and left standing by his unfeeling master while he indulged in
+porter and pipes in a small suburban pothouse, much affected by
+Milesians. The horse was much annoyed by flies, and testified his
+impatience and suffering by stamping and tossing his head. Mr. Potts
+was the first to notice that the poor animal had no tail,--for the two
+or three vertebrae attached to the termination of the spine could
+hardly be supposed to constitute a tail proper. The discovery filled
+him with horror. A horse in fly-time without a tail! The case was
+worse than that of the cow.
+
+"And here I am!" exclaimed the great and good man, in a tone of the
+bitterest self-reproach, "luxuriating in a pigtail which that poor
+creature would be glad of!"
+
+With these words he produced a penknife, and placing it in my hands,
+resolutely bade me amputate his cue. I did so with tears in my eyes,
+and placed the severed ornament in the hands of my companion. With a
+piece of tape he affixed it to the horse's stump, and the gush of
+satisfaction he felt at seeing the first fly despatched by the
+ingenious but costly substitute for a tail, must have been, I think,
+an adequate recompense for the sacrifice.
+
+I think it was in that same summer that Mr. Potts laid before the
+Philanthropic and Humane Society, of which he was an honorable and
+honorary member, his "plan for the amelioration of the condition of
+no-tailed horses in fly-time, by the substitution of feather dusters
+for the natural appendage, to which are added some hints on the
+grafting of tails with artificial scions, by a retired farrier in ill
+health."
+
+During the last year of his life, Mr. Potts offered a prize of five
+thousand dollars for the discovery of a harmless and indelible white
+paint, to be used in changing the complexion of the colored
+population, to place them on an equality with ourselves, or for any
+chemical process which would produce the same result.
+
+Mr. Potts proposed to substitute for capital punishment, houses of
+seclusion for murderers, where, remote from the world, in rural
+retreats, they might converse with nature, and in the cultivation of
+the earth, or the pursuit of botany, might become gradually softened
+and humanized. At the expiration of a few months' probation, he
+proposed to restore them to society.
+
+A criminal is an erring brother. The object of punishment is
+reformation, and not vengeance. Hence, Mr. Potts proposed to supply
+our prisoners with teachers of languages, arts and sciences, dancing
+and gymnastics. Every prison should have, he contended, a billiard
+room and bowling saloon, a hairdresser, and a French cook.
+Occasionally, accompanied by proper officers, the convicts should be
+taken to the Italian Opera, or allowed to dance at Papanti's. The
+object would be so to refine their tastes that they should shrink from
+theft and murder, simply because they were ungentlemanly. Readmitted
+to society, these gentlemen would give tone to the upper classes.
+
+But Mr. Potts has gone in the midst of his schemes of usefulness. The
+tailless quadruped, the shedless cow, the unwhitewashed African, the
+condemned felon, the unhappy prisoner, actually treated as if he were
+no gentleman, in him have lost a friend. When shall we see his like
+again? Echo answers, Probably not for a very long period.
+
+
+
+
+THE GONDOLIER.
+
+    O, rest thee here, my gondolier,
+      Rest, rest, while up I go,
+    To climb yon light balcony's height
+      While thou keep'st watch below.
+    Ah! if high Heaven had tongues as well
+      As starry eyes to see--
+    O, think what tales 'twould hate to tell
+      Of wandering youths like me.
+
+                                  MOORE.
+
+
+The traveller of to-day who visits Venice sees in that once splendid
+city nothing but a mass of mouldering palaces, the melancholy remains
+of former grandeur and magnificence; but few tokens to remind him that
+she was once the queen of the Adriatic, the emporium of Europe. But at
+the period of which we write the "sea Cybele" was in the very zenith
+of her brilliancy and power.
+
+It was the season of carnival, and nowhere else in Italy were the
+holidays celebrated with such zest and magnificence. By night millions
+of lamps burned in the palace windows, rivalling the splendors of the
+firmament, and reflected in the still waters of the lagoons like
+myriads of stars. Night and day music was resounding. There were
+regattas, balls, and festas, and the entire population seemed to have
+gone mad with gayety, and to have lost all thought of the Council of
+Ten, the Bridge of Signs, and the poniards of the bravoes.
+
+On a bright morning of this holiday season, a group of young
+gondoliers, attired in their gayest costume, were sitting at the head
+of a flight of marble steps that led up from one of the canals,
+waiting for their fares. A cavalier and lady, both gayly attired, and
+both masked, had just alighted from a gondola and passed the boatman
+on their way to some rendezvous.
+
+The gondolier who had conducted them, an old, gray-headed,
+hard-looking fellow, had pocketed his fee, nodded his thanks, and
+pushed off again from the landing.
+
+"There goes old Beppo," said one of the gondoliers on shore. "He will
+make a good day's work of it. I can swear I saw the glitter of gold in
+his hand just now."
+
+"Yes, yes!" said another. "Let him alone for making his money. And
+what he makes, he keeps. He's a close-fisted old hunks."
+
+"And what is he so scrimping and saving for?" asked a third. "He is
+unmarried--he has no children."
+
+"No--but he is to be married," said the first.
+
+"How! the man's past sixty."
+
+"Yes, comrade, but he will not be the first old fellow who has taken a
+young wife in his dotage. Have you never heard that he has a young
+ward, beautiful as an angel, whom he keeps cooped up as tenderly as a
+brooding dove in his tumble-down old house on the Canal Orfano? Nobody
+but himself has ever set eyes on her to my knowledge."
+
+"There you're mistaken, Stefano," said a young man, who had not
+hitherto spoken. He was a fine, dashing, handsome young fellow of
+twenty-six, in a holiday suit of crimson and gold, with a fiery eye,
+long, curling locks, and a mustache as black as jet.
+
+"Let's hear what Antonio Giraldo has to say about the matter!" cried
+his companions.
+
+"Simply this," said the young man. "I have seen the imprisoned fair
+one--the peerless Zanetta--for such is her name. She is lovely as the
+day; and for her voice--why--_Corpo di Bacco_! La Gianina, the prima
+donna, is a screechowl to _my_ nightingale."
+
+"_Your_ nightingale! Bravo!" cried Stefano, in a tone of mocking
+irony. "What can you know about her voice?"
+
+"Simply this, Master Stefano," replied the young gondolier. "When
+floating beneath her window in my gondola, I have addressed her in
+such rude strains of melody as I best knew how to frame. She has
+replied in tones so liquid and pure that the angels might have
+listened."
+
+"By Heaven! the fellow's in love!" cried Stefano.
+
+"Long live music and love!" cried Antonio. "What were life worth
+without them?"
+
+"You're in excellent spirits!" cried Stefano.
+
+"And why shouldn't a man be, on his wedding day?"
+
+"Mad as a march hare," cried Stefano.
+
+"Mark me," said Antonio. "That girl shall never marry old Beppo--my
+word for it. She hates him."
+
+"She'll elope with some noble, then."
+
+"To be cast off to wither when he is tired of her charms? No! the
+bridegroom for Zanetta is a gondolier."
+
+"With all my heart," said Stefano. "But come, comrades, it is no use
+waiting here. Let us to our gondolas, and row for St. Marks. You'll
+come with us, Antonio."
+
+"Not I--my occupation's gone."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"I have sold my gondola."
+
+"Sold your gondola."
+
+"Ay--that was my word."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"I wanted money."
+
+"Your gondola was the means of earning it."
+
+"Very true--but I had occasion for a certain sum at once."
+
+"And why not have recourse to our purses, Antonio? Light as they are,
+we would have made it up by contributions among us."
+
+"I doubted not your kindness--but my self-respect would not permit me
+to ask your aid. Good by, comrades; we shall meet again to-morrow."
+
+"To-morrow. _Addio_!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was a brilliant masquerade that evening at the palazzo of Count
+Giulio Colonna. Invitations had been issued to all the world, and all
+the world was present. The finest music, the richest wines, the most
+splendid decorations were lavished on the occasion. Perhaps, among
+that brilliant company, there was more than one plebeian, who, under
+cover of the masque, and employing the license common at these
+saturnalia, had intruded himself unbidden.
+
+Old Beppo, the gondolier, was in attendance at the vestibule of the
+palace, feasting his avaricious eyes on the glimpses of wealth and
+luxury he noted within doors, when a gentleman in rich costume, and
+wearing a mask, beckoned him to one side, and desired a moment's
+interview.
+
+"Do you know me?" was the first question asked by the stranger.
+
+"No, signor," replied the old gondolier.
+
+"Do you know these gentlemen?" asked the mask, slipping a couple of
+gold pieces into the miser's hand.
+
+"Perfectly," replied the boatman, grinning. "What are your lordship's
+commands?"
+
+"Is your gondola in waiting?"
+
+"Yes, signor. It lies below, moored to the landing."
+
+"'Tis well; hast thou any scruples about aiding in a love intrigue?"
+
+"None in the world, signor."
+
+"Then I'll make a confidant of you."
+
+"I will be all secrecy, signor."
+
+"Briefly then, gondolier," said the mask, "I am in love with a very
+charming young person."
+
+"Well."
+
+"Well--and this young person loves me in return."
+
+"Good; and you are going to marry her."
+
+"Not so fast, gondolier. She has an old guardian, who, at the age of
+sixty, or more, has been absurd enough--only think of it--to propose
+to marry her himself."
+
+"The absurd old fool!" cried Beppo, not without some twinges, for he
+thought of his own projects with regard to Zanetta.
+
+"Now, then," said the mask, "I have resolved to run away with her
+to-night. I have the opportunity--for she is here in the Palazzo
+Colonna. Now will and can you aid me? I will recompense you
+liberally."
+
+"Ah! my lord--your lordship has come to the right market," said the
+old sinner. "I'm used to affairs of this kind. Has your lordship a
+priest engaged?"
+
+"I have not."
+
+"Then I can recommend one. Hard by is a chapel dedicated to Our Lady,
+where there is a very worthy man, accustomed to affairs of this kind,
+who will tie the knot for a moderate fee, without asking any
+impertinent questions."
+
+"His name?"
+
+"Father Dominic."
+
+"Good! he is the man for us--and you are the prince of gondoliers.
+Get your gondola ready, and I will rejoin you at the foot of the
+stairs with the lady in a moment."
+
+Old Beppo hastened to prepare his gondola, and while so doing,
+muttered to himself,--
+
+"Well, well--this is a good night's work. I'm getting old, and I must
+soon retire from business. Every stroke of luck like this helps on the
+day when I shall call Zanetta mine. So, there's another old fool to be
+duped to-night! Serve him right! Why don't he keep his treasure under
+lock and key, as I do? But men will never learn wisdom. Here they
+come."
+
+The young cavalier reappeared upon the marble steps, leading a lady,
+masked and veiled, but whose elastic step and graceful bearing seemed
+to designate her as one moving in the highest circles. The young
+lovers took their seats in the centre of the light craft, and drew the
+curtains round them, while Beppo pushed off, and his vigorous oar soon
+sent the shallop dancing over the waters of the lagoon. After a few
+moments the motion ceased, and Beppo informed his patron that they had
+arrived at their place of destination. After making the boat fast, the
+gondolier landed, and entered the small chapel which stood on the
+brink of the canal. In a few moments he returned, and informed the
+masked cavalier that all was prepared. The gentleman then handed out
+the lady, and both entered the chapel, Beppo keeping guard without, to
+prevent or give notice of any intrusion.
+
+The marriage ceremony was performed very rapidly by Father Dominic,
+for he was just going to bed when the gondola arrived, and was duly
+anxious to despatch his business, that he might consign his wearied
+limbs to rest.
+
+"Is it all over?" whispered Beppo, in the ear of the cavalier, as he
+came out with his lady.
+
+"All right," replied the mask, in the same tone of voice. "But one
+thing perplexes me. I have no place that I can call my home, to-night.
+The lady will be missed; my palace will be watched--I should incur the
+risk of swords crossing and bloodshed, if I sought to take her
+thither, to-night."
+
+"If my house were not so very humble," said the gondolier,
+hesitatingly.
+
+"The very thing," said the mask, joyfully. "No matter how humble the
+roof, provided that it shelter us. To-morrow we can arrange matters
+for flight, or for remaining."
+
+"Then get into the gondola, my lord, and I will row you thither in a
+few minutes."
+
+The party reembarked, and soon reached the gondolier's residence.
+After fastening his craft, he unlocked his door; and striking a light,
+conducted his distinguished guests up stairs. As he passed one of the
+chamber doors, the old gondolier, addressing the masked lady as he
+pointed to it, said,--
+
+"You have made a moonlight flitting, to-night, signora, and I wish you
+joy of your escape. But if you had been as safely kept as a precious
+charge I have in this room, you would never have stood before the
+altar to-night, with your noble bridegroom."
+
+"You forget that 'love laughs at locksmiths,'" said the cavalier.
+
+At the door of their apartments, the old man, before bidding them good
+night, pausing, said,--
+
+"Pardon me, signor, but I would fain know the name of the noble
+cavalier I have had the honor of serving to-night."
+
+"You shall know to-morrow," replied the mask. "_Buona notte_, Beppo.
+Remember it's carnival time."
+
+The next morning Beppo was up betimes, anxious to learn the mystery
+connected with the married couple. He was not kept long in suspense.
+His patron of the preceding evening soon made his appearance, but
+masked as before.
+
+"Beppo!" said the stranger, "you rendered me an inestimable service
+last night."
+
+"You rewarded me handsomely, signor, and I shall never regret it."
+
+"Give me your word then, that you will never upbraid me with the
+service I imposed on you."
+
+"I give you my word," said the old man, surprised; "but why do you
+exact it?"
+
+"Because," said the stranger, raising his mask, "I am no Venetian
+noble, but simply Antonio Giraldi, a gondolier like yourself."
+
+"You! Antonio Giraldi! And the lady--?"
+
+"Was your ward, Zanetta. You locked her chamber door, and took the
+house key with you--but a ladder of ropes from a lady's balcony is as
+good as a staircase; and as I told you last night, 'love laughs at
+locksmiths.'"
+
+Of course old Beppo stormed and swore, as irascible old gentlemen are
+very apt to do in similar circumstances, but he ended by forgiving the
+lovers, as that was the only act in his power. He not only forgave
+them, but gave up his gondola to the stronger hands of Antonio, and
+settled a handsome portion on Zanetta; nor did he ever regret his
+generosity, for they proved grateful and affectionate, and were the
+stay and solace of his declining years. Such is the veritable history
+of a carnival incident of the olden days of Venice.
+
+
+
+
+THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS.
+
+A MILITARY SKETCH.
+
+
+It was a great day for Dogtown, being no other than the anniversary of
+the annual militia muster; and on this occasion not only the Dogtown
+Blues were on parade upon the village green, but the entire regiment
+of which they formed a part, commanded by the gallant Colonel
+Zephaniah Slorkey, postmaster and variety-store keeper, was to engage
+in a sham fight, representing the surrender of Cornwallis. There was
+no attempt at historical costume, but it was understood that Slorkey,
+with his cowhide boots and rusty plated spurs, his long,
+swallow-tailed blue coat, and threadbare chapeau with a cock's tail
+feather in it, mounted on his seventy-five dollar piebald mare,
+promoted from the plough and "dump cart," was the representative of
+General Washington. Major Israel Ryely, his second in command, a
+native of the rival village of Hardscrabble, was to figure as Lord
+Cornwallis; and the selection was the more appropriate, since the
+private relations of these two great men were any thing but amicable,
+and they espoused opposite sides in politics. Dr. Galenius Jalap, an
+apothecary and surgeon of the regiment, a man with a hatchet face,
+hook nose, and thin, weeping whiskers, the color of sugar gingerbread,
+undertook the character of La Fayette at very short notice, and a very
+dim conception of the character he had.
+
+The entire population of Dogtown and Hardscrabble turned out to
+witness the stupendous military operations of the day. On the American
+side were the Dogtown Blues, with four companies of ununiformed
+militia, armed with rifles, fowling pieces, and rusty muskets, and
+typifying the continental army. Their artillery consisted of two light
+field pieces, served by a select band of volunteers. These pieces were
+posted on an eminence commanding the entire plain. At the foot of this
+hill, Colonel Slorkey drew up his troops in line of battle, his left
+wing protected by an impassable frog pond, and his right resting on a
+large piggery, whose extent prevented the enemy from turning his flank
+in that direction.
+
+On the descent of an opposing eminence, likewise strengthened by two
+guns, Major Ryely placed the Hardscrabble Guards, the Sheet Iron
+Riflemen, the Mudhollow Invincibles, the Dandelion Fireeaters, and the
+Scrufftown Sharpshooters. A thousand bright eyes, from the commanding
+eminences, looked down on the serried ranks of bayonets, the
+brazen-throated artillery, the panoplied plough horses, the plumed
+commanders, the rustling banners, and all the "pomp, pride, and
+circumstance of glorious war."
+
+Preliminaries being thus settled, the commanding officers put spurs to
+their horses, and met in the centre of the plain, there saluting with
+their scythe-blade swords.
+
+"Major Ryely," said the colonel, rising in his stirrups, "the
+follerin' are the odder of pufformances: we open with eour
+artillery--you reply with yourn. Under kiver of eour guns we advance
+to the attack. You do the same to meet us--firin' like smoke. Arter a
+sharp scrimmedge you retire--send us a flag of truce with terms--and
+finally lay down your arms."
+
+The major bowed till his ostrich feather touched the mane of his
+wall-eyed plough horse, then turned bridle, and regained his ranks at
+a gait something between a stumble and a rack. The representative of
+General Washington rejoined his men at a hard trot, rising two feet
+from his saddle at every concussion of his bony steed.
+
+"Fellur sogers!" roared the temporary father of his country; "yonder
+stands Cornwallis and his redcoats--only they haint got red coats,
+partickerlarly them in blue swaller-tails. We air bound to lick
+'em--hurrah for our side! Go inter 'em like a thousand of bricks
+fallin' off 'n a slated rufe. The genius of Ammerikin liberty, in the
+shape of the carnivorous eagle, soarin' aloft on diluted pillions,
+seems to mutter _E Pluribus Unum_--we are one of 'em! Hail Columby
+happy land! Sing Yankee Doodle that fine tune--cry havock! and let
+looset the dogs of war."
+
+Then commenced the horror of the sham fight. The continental guns
+opened in thunder tones. The British artillery hurled back their
+terrific echoes. Bang! bang! boom! boom! The canopy of heaven was
+stained with the sulphurous smoke. The drummers rattled away on their
+sheepskins--the fifers distended their cheeks till they resembled
+blown bladders. In the midst of all this noise and tumult, the
+undaunted Slorkey, and the indomitable Jalap, rushed to and fro, with
+clanking scabbards, and brandished scythe blades, twin thunderbolts of
+war.
+
+"Forrard march!" roared Slorkey. With the yell of demons, his fierce
+followers advanced to the onset, firing their blank cartridges with
+desperate valor.
+
+Equally alert were Major Ryely and his followers.
+
+     "Their swords were a thousand, their bosoms were one."
+
+Their faces begrimed with powder, their eyes gleaming with ferocity,
+they descended to the plain--an avalanche of heroes. The soul of
+Headly would have swelled within him had he seen them.
+
+For more than one hour that deadly consumption of blank cartridges
+endured, and then Ryely and his troops retired in good order.
+
+"Boys," said the major, "old Slorkey wants us to gin out--send a flag
+of truce--a white pocket handkerchief on a beanpole--and propose to
+surrender. But it goes agin my grit for Hardscrabble to cave in to
+Dogtown, when we could knock the hindsights off 'em, if we was only a
+mind to."
+
+"Hurray for the major!" responded the Hardscrabblers.
+
+"I've got a grudge agin the kurnil," said the major, "and if you'll
+stand by me, I'll take it out of 'em. What say?"
+
+"Agreed!" was the spontaneous response.
+
+While Slorkey was waiting for the covenanted flag of truce, he saw the
+hated Ryely rise in his stirrups, and heard his stentorian voice roar
+out the word, "Charge!"
+
+A deafening shout answered his appeal. In an instant Hardscrabble and
+its allies were down on Dogtown and its defenders. The latter stood it
+for a moment, but Ryely knocked the colonel off his horse, the surgeon
+had his nose pulled, the Dogtown Blues justified their name by their
+looks, and, seized with a sudden panic, fled--fled ingloriously from
+their native training field. The audacious outrage was
+consummated--history was violated--and General Washington was beaten by
+Cornwallis.
+
+Dire were the threats against Ryely uttered by the colonel, as he was
+carried home on a shutter; nothing short of a court martial was his
+slightest menace. But no court martial ever took place. The military
+pride and glory of Dogtown were wounded to the quick; the force of
+popular opinion compelled Slorkey to resign, and to consummate his
+chagrin, his treacherous rival was chosen colonel of the regiment. So
+unstable are human honors--so ungrateful are republics.
+
+
+
+
+THE THREE BRIDES.
+
+
+Towards the close of a chilly afternoon, in the latter part of last
+November, I was travelling in New Hampshire on horseback. The road was
+solitary and rugged, and wound along through gloomy pine forests and
+over abrupt and stony hills. Several circumstances conduced to my
+discomfort. I was not sure of my way; I had a hurt in my bridle hand,
+and evening was approaching, heralded by an icy rain and a cold,
+searching wind. I felt a sinking of spirits which I could not dispel
+by rapid riding; for my horse, fatigued by a long day's journey,
+refused to answer spur and whip with his usual animation. In an hour
+after, I was convinced that I had mistaken my road, and night
+surprised me in the forest. I had been in more unpleasant situations;
+so I adopted my usual expedient of letting the reins fall upon my
+courser's neck. He, however, blundered on, with his nose drooping to
+the ground, stumbling every moment, though ordinarily as surefooted as
+a roebuck. So we plodded on for a mile, while the landscape grew
+darker and darker. At length, finding my horse less intelligent or
+more despairing than myself, I resumed the rein, and endeavored to
+cheer my brute companion. To tell the truth, I stood in need of
+something exhilarating myself. The sombre air of the eternal pines
+struck a deathly gloom to my heart, as one by one they seemed to rise
+on my path, like threatening genii extending their scathed limbs to
+meet me. The rain, fine and cold, bedewed me from head to foot, and I
+question if a more miserable pair of animals ever threaded their way
+through the mazes of an enchanted forest. I thought of the comfortable
+home I had left for my forlorn pleasure excursion, of that cheerful
+hearth around which my family were gathered, of wine, music, love, and
+the thousand endearments I had left behind, and then I gazed into the
+recesses of the shadowy wood that closed about me, almost in despair.
+I began to dread the apparition of some giant intruder, and was
+seriously meditating the production of a pair of pistols, when my
+quick glance caught the glimmer of distant lights, twinkling through
+some opening in the trees, and darting a beam of hope upon the
+wanderer's soul. My reins were instantly grasped, and my rowels were
+struck into the sides of my charger. He snorted, pricked up his ears,
+erected his head, and sprang forth in an uncontrollable gallop. Up
+hill and down hill I pricked my gallant gray; and when the forest was
+past, and his hoofs glinted on the stones of a street leading through
+a small village, I felt an animation that I cannot well describe. A
+creaking signboard, swinging in the wind on rusty irons, directed me
+to the only inn of the village. It was a two-story brick building,
+standing a little back from the road. I drew rein at the door, and
+dismounted my weary nag. My loud vociferations summoned to my side a
+bull dog, cursed with a most unhappy disposition, and a hostler whose
+temper was hardly more amiable. He took my horse with an air of surly
+indifference, and gruffly directed me to the bar room.
+
+This apartment was tenanted by half a dozen rough farmers, rendered
+savage and morose by incessantly imbibing alcohol; and by the
+proprietor of the tavern, a bluff man, with a portly paunch, a hard
+gray eye, and a stern Caledonian lip. He welcomed me without much
+frankness or cordiality, and I sank into a wooden settle, eyed by the
+surly guests of mine host, and the subject of sundry muttered remarks.
+The group, as it was lighted up by the strong red glare of the fire,
+had certainly a bandit appearance, which, however delightful to a
+Salvator Rosa, was by no means inviting to a traveller who had sought
+the bosom of the hills for pleasure. After making a few remarks, which
+elicited only monosyllables in answer, I relapsed into silence; from
+which, however, I was soon aroused by the entrance of the surly
+hostler, who in no very gracious manner informed me that my horse was
+lame, and likely to be sick. This intelligence produced a visit to the
+stable, and the conviction that I could not possibly resume my journey
+on the ensuing day; which was somewhat disagreeable to a man who had
+taken up a decided prejudice against the inn and all its inmates.
+
+Having succeeded in procuring a private room and a fire, I ignited an
+execrable cigar, (ah, how unlike thy _principes_, dear S.,) and
+endeavored to lose myself in the agreeable occupation of castle
+building while supper was preparing. Alas! my fancy came not at my
+call. I had lost my power of abstraction--the realities around me were
+too engrossing. Ere the dying shriek of a majestic rooster had ceased
+to sound in my ear, his remains were served upon my table, together
+with a cup or two of very villanous gunpowder tea, and a pitcher of
+cider, with coarse bread and butter _ad libitum_. Supper was soon
+despatched, and in answer to a bell, lightly touched, a
+vinegar-visaged waiting-maid, of the interesting age of forty-five,
+entered and removed the scarcely touched viands--the _rudis
+indigestaque moles_. I ventured to address her, with a request that I
+might be supplied with a few books, to enable me to while away the
+evening. I anticipated a literary feast from the readiness with which
+she rushed from the room; but she reappeared, bringing only Young's
+Night Thoughts, (very greasy,) a volume of tales with the catastrophes
+torn out, a set of plays consisting only of first acts, and an odd
+number of the Eclectic Magazine. This was sufficiently provoking; but
+I read a few pages, and tried a second cigar, and made the tour of the
+apartment, examining a family mourning-piece worked in satin, a
+genealogical tree done in worsted, and a portrait of the mutton-headed
+landlord and his snappish wife. I counted the ticks of the clock for
+half an hour, and was finally reduced to the forlorn expedient of
+seeing likenesses in the burning embers. When the clock struck nine, I
+rang for slippers and a guide to my bed room, and the landlord
+appeared, candle in hand, to usher me to my sleeping apartment. As I
+followed him up the creaking staircase, and along the dark upper
+entry, I could not help regretting that fancy was unable to convert
+him into the seneschal of a baronial mansion, and the room to which I
+was going a haunted chamber. It seemed as if my surly host had the
+power of divining what was passing in my mind, for when he had ushered
+me into the room, and placed the candle on the light stand, he said,--
+
+"I hope you'll sleep comfortable, for there ain't many rats here, sir.
+And as for the ghost they say frequents this chamber, I believe that's
+all in my eye, though, to be sure, the window does look out on the
+burial ground."
+
+"Umph! a comfortable prospect."
+
+"Very, sir; you have a fine view of the squire's new tomb and the
+poorhouse, with a wing of the jail behind the trees. And I've stuck my
+second-best hat in that broken pane of glass, and there's a chest of
+drawers to set against the door; so you'll be warm and free from
+intrusion. I wish you good night, sir."
+
+All that night I was troubled with strange dreams, peopled by phantoms
+from the neighboring churchyard; but a _bona fide_ ghost I cannot say
+I saw. In the morning I rose very early, and took a look from the
+window, but the prospect was very uninviting. The churchyard was a
+bleak, desolate place, overgrown with weeds, and studded with slate
+stones, bounded by a ruinous brick wall, and having an entrance
+through a dilapidated gateway. One or two melancholy-looking cows were
+feeding on the rank herbage that sprang from the unctuous soil,
+spurning many a _hic jacet_ with their cloven hoofs. But afar, in the
+most distant part of the field, I espied the figure of a man who was
+busily occupied in digging a grave. There was something within that
+impelled me to stroll forth and accost him. I dressed, descended, and
+having ordered breakfast, left the inn, clambered over the ruinous
+wall, and stood within the precincts of the burial-place. The spot had
+evidently been used for the purposes of sepulture for a number of
+years, for the ground rose into numerous hillocks, and I could hardly
+walk a step without stumbling upon some grassy mound. Even where the
+perishable gravestones had been shattered by the hand of time, the
+length of the elevations enabled me to judge of the age of the
+deceased. This slight swell rose over the remains of some beloved
+child, who had been committed to the dust with only the simple
+ceremonies of the Protestant faith, bedewed by the tears of parents,
+and blessed by the broken voice of farewell affection. This mound, of
+larger dimension, was heaped above the giant frame of manhood. Some
+sturdy tiller of the soil, or rough dweller in the forest, perhaps cut
+off by a sudden casualty, had been laid here in his last leaden
+sleep--no more to start at the rising beam of the sun, no more to rush
+to the glorious excitement of the hunt, no more to pant in noonday
+toil. Over the whole field of the dead there seemed to brood the
+spirit of desolation. Stern heads, rudely chiselled, from the grave
+stones, and frightful emblems met the eye at every turn. Here was none
+of that simple elegance with which modern taste loves to invest the
+memorials of the departed; no graceful acacias, or nodding elms, or
+sorrowing willows shed their dews upon the turf--every thing spoke of
+the bitterness of parting, of the agony of the last hour, of the
+passing away from earth--nothing of the reunion in heaven!
+
+I passed on to where the grave digger was pursuing his occupation. He
+answered my morning salutation civilly enough, but continued intent
+upon his work. He was a man of about fifty years of age, spare, but
+strong, with gray hair, and sunken cheeks, and certain lines about the
+mouth which augured a propensity to indulge in dry jest, though the
+sternness of his gray eye seemed to contradict the tacit assertion.
+
+"An unpleasant morning, sir, to work in the open air," said I.
+
+"He that regardeth the clouds shall not reap," replied the grave
+digger, still plying his spade. "Death stalks abroad fair day and foul
+day, and we that follow in his footsteps must prepare for the dead,
+rain or shine."
+
+"A melancholy occupation."
+
+"A fit one for a moralist. Some would find a pleasure in it. Deacon
+Giles, I am sure, would willingly be in my place now."
+
+"And why so?"
+
+"This grave is for his wife," replied the grave digger, looking up
+from his occupation with a dry smile that wrinkled his sallow cheek
+and distorted his shrunken lips. Perceiving that his merriment was not
+infectious, he resumed his employment, and that so assiduously, that
+in a very short time he had hollowed the last resting-place of Deacon
+Giles's consort. This done, he ascended from the trench with a
+lightness that surprised me, and walking a few paces from the new-made
+grave, sat down upon a tombstone, and beckoned me to approach. I did
+so.
+
+"Young man," said he, "a sexton and a grave digger, if he is one who
+has a zeal for his calling, becomes something of an historian,
+amassing many a curious tale and strange legend concerning the people
+with whom he has to do, living and dead. For a man with a taste for
+his profession cannot provide for the last repose of his fellows
+without taking an interest in their story, the manner of their death,
+and the concern of the relatives who follow their remains so tearfully
+to the grave."
+
+"Then," replied I, taking a seat beside the sexton, "methinks you
+could relate some interesting tales."
+
+Again the withering smile that I had before observed passed over the
+face of the sexton, as he answered,--
+
+"I am no story teller, sir; I deal in fact, not fiction. Yes, yes, I
+could chronicle some strange events. But of all things I know, there
+is nothing stranger than the melancholy history of the three brides."
+
+"The three brides?"
+
+"Ay. Do you see three hillocks yonder, side by side? There they sleep,
+and will till the last trumpet comes wailing and wailing through the
+heart of these lone hills, with a tone so strange and stirring, that
+the dead will start from their graves at its first awful note. Then
+will come the judgment and the retribution. But to my tale. Look
+there, sir; on yonder hill you may observe a little isolated house,
+with a straggling fence in front, and a few stunted apple trees on the
+ascent behind it. It is sadly out of repair now, and the garden is all
+overgrown with weeds and brambles, and the whole place has a desolate
+appearance. If the wind were high now, you might hear the old crazy
+shutters flapping against the sides, and the wind tearing the gray
+shingles off the roof. Many years ago, there lived in that house an
+old man and his son, who cultivated the few acres of arable land which
+belong to it.
+
+"The father was a self-taught man, deeply versed in the mysteries of
+science, and, as he could tell the name of every flower that blossomed
+in the wood and grew in the garden, and used to sit up late of nights
+at his books, or reading the mystic story of the starry heavens, men
+thought he was crazed or bewitched, and avoided him, and even hated
+him, as the ignorant ever shun and dread the gifted and enlightened. A
+few there were, and among others the minister, and lawyer, and
+physician of the place, who showed some willingness to afford him
+countenance; but they soon dropped his acquaintance, for they found
+the old man somewhat reserved and morose, and, moreover, their vanity
+was wounded by discovering the extent of his knowledge. To the
+minister he would quote the Fathers and the Scriptures in the original
+tongues and showed himself well armed with the weapons of polemical
+controversy. He astonished the lawyer by his profound acquaintance
+with jurisprudence; and the physician was surprised at the extent of
+his medical knowledge. So they all deserted him, and the minister,
+from whom the old man differed in some trifling points of doctrine,
+spoke very slightingly of him; and by and by all looked upon the
+self-educated farmer with eyes of aversion. But he little cared for
+that, for he derived his consolation from loftier resources, and in
+the untracked paths of science found a pleasure as in the pathless
+woods! He instructed his son in all his lore--the languages,
+literature, history, philosophy, science, were unfolded, one by one,
+to the enthusiastic son of the solitary. Years rolled away, and the
+old man died. He died when a storm convulsed the face of nature, when
+the wind howled around his shattered dwelling, and the lightning
+played above the roof; and though he went to heaven in faith and
+purity, the vulgar thought and said that the evil one had claimed his
+own in the thunder and commotion of the elements. I cannot paint to
+you the grief of the son at his bereavement. He was, for a time, as
+one distracted. The minister came and muttered a few cold and hollow
+phrases in his ear, and a few neighbors, impelled by curiosity to see
+the interior of the old man's dwelling, came to his funeral. With a
+proud and lofty look the son stood beside the departed in the midst of
+the band of hypocritical mourners, with a pang at his heart, but a
+serenity on his brow. He thanked his friends for their kindness,
+acknowledged their courtesy, and then strode away from the grave to
+bury his grief in the privacy of his deserted dwelling.
+
+"He found, at first, the solitude of the mansion almost insupportable,
+and he paced the echoing floors from morning till night, in all the
+agony of woe and desolation, vainly imploring Heaven for relief. It
+came to him first in the guise of poetic inspiration. He wrote with a
+wonderful ease and power. Page after page came from his prolific pen,
+almost without an effort; and there was a time when he dreamed (vain
+fool!) of immortality. Some of his productions came before the world.
+They were praised and circulated, and inquiries were set on foot in
+the hope of discovering the author. He, wrapped in the veil of
+impenetrable obscurity, listened to the voice of applause, more
+delicious because it was obtained by stealth. From the obscurity of
+yonder lone mansion, and from this remote region, to send forth lays
+which astonished the world, was, indeed, a triumph to the visionary
+bard.
+
+"His thirst for fame was gratified, and now he began to yearn for the
+companionship of some sweet being of the other sex, to share the
+laurels he had won, to whisper consolation in his ear in moments of
+despondency, and to supply the void which the death of his old father
+had occasioned. He would picture to himself the felicity of a refined
+intercourse with a highly intellectual and beautiful woman, and, as he
+had chosen for his motto, _What has been done may still be done_, he
+did not despair of success. In this village lived three sisters, all
+beautiful and all accomplished. Their names were Mary, Adelaide, and
+Madeleine. I am far enough past the age of enthusiasm, but never can I
+forget the beauty of those young girls. Mary was the youngest, and a
+fairer-haired, more laughing damsel never danced upon a green.
+Adelaide, who was a few years older, was dark haired and pensive; but
+of the three, Madeleine, the eldest, possessed the most fire, spirit,
+cultivation, and intellectuality. Their father was a man of taste and
+education, and, being somewhat above vulgar prejudices, permitted the
+visits of the hero of my story. Still he did not altogether encourage
+the affection which he found springing up between Mary and the poet.
+When, however, he found that her affections were engaged, he did not
+withhold his consent from her marriage, and the recluse bore to his
+solitary mansion the young bride of his affections. O sir, the house
+assumed a new appearance within and without. Roses bloomed in the
+garden, jessamines peeped through its lattices, and the fields about
+it smiled with the effects of careful cultivation. Lights were seen in
+the little parlor in the evening, and many a time would the passenger
+pause by the garden gate to listen to strains of the sweetest music,
+breathed by choral voices from the cottage. If the mysterious student
+and his wife were neglected by their neighbors, what cared they? Their
+endearing and mutual affection made their home a little paradise. But
+death came to Eden. Mary fell suddenly sick, and, after a few hours'
+illness, died in the arms of her husband and her sister Madeleine.
+This was the student's second heavy affliction.
+
+"Days, months, rolled on, and the only solace of the bereaved was to
+sit with the sisters of the deceased, and talk of the lost one. To
+Adelaide, at length, he offered his widowed heart. She came to his
+lone house like the dove, bearing the olive branch of peace and
+consolation. Their bridal was not one of revelry and mirth, for a sad
+recollection brooded over the hour. Yet they lived happily; the
+husband again smiled, and, with a new spring, the roses again
+blossomed in their garden. But it seemed as if a fatality pursued this
+singular man. When the rose withered and the leaf fell, in the mellow
+autumn of the year, Adelaide, too, sickened and died, like her younger
+sister, in the arms of her husband and of Madeleine.
+
+"Perhaps you will think it strange, young man, that, after all, the
+wretched survivor stood again at the altar. But he was a mysterious
+being, whose ways were inscrutable, who, thirsting for domestic bliss,
+was doomed ever to seek and never to find it. His third bride was
+Madeleine. I well remember her. She was a beauty, in the true sense of
+the word. It may seem strange to you to hear the praise of beauty from
+such lips as mine; but I cannot help expatiating upon hers. She might
+have sat upon a throne, and the most loyal subject, the proudest peer,
+would have sworn the blood within her veins had descended from a
+hundred kings. She was a proud creature, with a tall, commanding
+form, and raven tresses, that floated, dark and cloud-like, over her
+shoulders. She was a singularly-gifted woman, and possessed of rare
+inspiration. She loved the widower for his power and his fame, and she
+wedded him. They were married in that church. It was on a summer
+afternoon--I recollect it well. During the ceremony, the blackest
+cloud I ever saw overspread the heavens like a pall, and, at the
+moment when the _third bride_ pronounced her vow, a clap of thunder
+shook the building to the centre. All the females shrieked, but the
+bride herself made the response with a steady voice, and her eyes
+glittered with wild fire as she gazed upon her bridegroom. He remarked
+a kind of incoherence in her expressions as they rode home-ward, which
+surprised him at the time. Arrived at his house, she shrunk upon the
+threshold: but this was the timidity of a maiden. When they were alone
+he clasped her hand--it was as cold as ice! He looked into her face.
+
+"Madeleine," said he, "what means this? your cheeks are as pale as
+your wedding gown!" The bride uttered a frantic shriek.
+
+"My wedding gown!" exclaimed she; "no, no--this--this is my sister's
+shroud! The hour for confession has arrived. It is God that impels me
+to speak. To win you I have lost my soul! Yes--yes--I am a murderess!
+She smiled upon me in the joyous affection of her young heart--but I
+gave her the fatal drug! Adelaide twined her white arms about my neck,
+but I administered the poison! Take me to your arms: I have lost my
+soul for you, and mine must you be!"
+
+"She spread her long, white arms, and stood like a maniac before him,"
+said the sexton, rising, in the excitement of the moment, and assuming
+the attitude he described; "and then," continued he, in a hollow
+voice, "at that moment came the thunder and the flash, and the guilty
+woman fell dead upon the floor!" The countenance of the narrator
+expressed all the horror that he felt.
+
+"And the bridegroom," asked I; "the husband of the destroyer and the
+victims--what became of him?"
+
+"_He stands before you_!" was the thrilling answer.
+
+
+
+
+CALIFORNIA SPECULATION.
+
+
+Mose Jenkins did not take the California fever when it first broke
+out; for he was, as he acknowledged himself, "slow-motioned," and his
+skull was of such formidable thickness, that it required a good many
+months for an idea to penetrate into his brain. In the interim, he
+delved and digged away on a corner of his father's farm, having leased
+the land of the old gentleman, and purchased his time of the same
+respectable individual for the purpose of working it. But to work a
+farm where the rocks are so near together, that the sheep's noses have
+to be sharpened before they can graze between them, is not a very
+profitable business; and Mose, by dint of hard thinking, arrived at
+the conclusion that there might possibly be some other occupation less
+laborious and quite as lucrative.
+
+"Confound these granite rocks!" he exclaimed, one day, as he was
+ploughing, after he had broken his trace chains for a second time;
+"they hev another kind er rocks in Calliforny. Jehosaphat! If I was
+only _thar_. There a fellur hez to dig; but he gets pretty good
+wages--five thousand dollars a month is middlin', not to say fair."
+
+In short, Mose Jenkins made up his mind to go to San Francisco, having
+got the wherewithal to carry him in a packet to the land of promise.
+Fearful of opposition, he communicated his project neither to the
+author of his days, the venerable Zephaniah Jenkins, nor to the
+beloved of his heart, Miss Prudence Salter, a cherry-cheeked damsel
+in a state of orphanage; but wrote down to a friend in Boston to
+secure a passage. He reserved his communications to the very last
+moment, when he was all ready for starting. His father gave him his
+blessing; Prudence was more difficult to manage.
+
+"It's a breach of promise case," said she, "I don't believe you mean
+to marry me arter all."
+
+"Yes, I do, ye silly critter," said Mose. "I'll come and make you Mrs.
+Jenkins; but I want to get the rocks first."
+
+"Ain't there rocks enough here?" asked Prudence, simply.
+
+"Pooh! I mean the rocks what folks carries in their pockets, an'
+treats every body with--all sollid gold."
+
+"I don't believe half them stories," said Prudence, contemptuously.
+
+"They're as true as gospil," said Mose, "'cause I see it in a paper.
+And there's Curnil Hateful Slowboy, that went from here last
+year--you'd ort to know him, Prudence, coz he was one of your old
+beaux--wall, now, they say he's one of the richest men in Calliforny.
+I tell you I'm bound to make my fortin' there."
+
+"And so am I," said Prudence, resolutely.
+
+"You!" exclaimed Mose.
+
+"Yes. I'm bound to go, too; and I'll follow you in the next ship, else
+you'll be green enough to marry one of them 'ere Ingine gals."
+
+"Prudence, you're spunk!" exclaimed Mose, in terms of the warmest
+admiration. "Good by! And I swow I'll marry you jest as soon as you
+set foot in Calliforny."
+
+Not to amplify on details, our adventurer landed there safely, and
+was, of course, like all verdant voyagers, much surprised at the
+tariff of prices subjected to his notice. The porter who carried his
+trunk to the hotel charged him ten dollars; and though that same hotel
+was a leaky tent, a plate of tough beef was charged seventy-five
+cents, and a watery potato fifty. Business was very dull, too, at the
+moment of his arrival; the accounts from the mines were disastrous,
+and every thing announced an approaching crisis. Moses confided his
+griefs to Colonel Hateful Slowboy, his fellow-townsman, who was really
+one of the richest men in California, winding up with lamentations
+over the expected arrival of Prudence, whom he had promised to marry.
+
+"What kin I do with a wife," said he, "when I can't support myself,
+even?"
+
+"Very true," said the colonel. "Now, if it were me, the case would be
+very different."
+
+"Prudence done all the courtin' herself, curnil," said our hero,
+sulkily. "I never should have offered if it hadn't been for her. I
+kinder like 'er pretty well, though: she's a sort of pretty nice gal."
+
+"Well, Mose," said the colonel, "what do you say to giving up your
+claim?"
+
+"Eh?" said Mose, pricking up his ears.
+
+"What'll you take for your right and title--cash down--no questions
+asked?"
+
+"Wall, I dunnow," said Mose, opening his jackknife and picking up a
+chip. "Prudence is a pretty nice gal, as you said, curnil."
+
+"As _you_ said, Mr. Jenkins."
+
+"Wall, it's all the same. The critter's very fond of me and so be I of
+her. I had plaguy hard work, I tell you, to get her consent."
+
+"Come, come," said the colonel, "you want to drive a hard bargain with
+me. I'm willing to give you a fair price, say twenty thousand; but I
+don't want to be swindled."
+
+"Say twenty-five thousand and take her, curnil."
+
+"No--twenty."
+
+"Cash down?"
+
+"Cash down."
+
+"Done."
+
+"The money's ready whenever Prudence is."
+
+In a few days another ship from Boston came in, and Prudence was among
+the first to land. Mose met her with very little ardor, the colonel
+remaining in the background. After some little conversation, the young
+lady reminded her lover of their agreement.
+
+"I can't do it, Prudence; I've swore off--I've jined the old bachelor
+society."
+
+"But you promised me," screamed Prudence.
+
+"Can't help that; you can't get a verdict here for breaches of
+promise; there ain't no law here; every body goes on his own
+individual hook."
+
+"You cruel monster, why can't you marry me?"
+
+"'Cause."
+
+"'Cause what?"
+
+"'Cause," said Mose, retreating to a safe distance, "_I've traded you
+away_!"
+
+Colonel Slowboy was at hand to catch the fair one as she came near
+falling. He was her old beau, and he knew the weak points of her
+character; moreover he had splendid red whiskers and a million of
+money--she married him, partly from ambition and partly from revenge.
+
+The moment they were united, Moses set sail for the United States,
+with his twenty thousand dollars, and arrived back safely. When asked
+how he had accumulated such a sum in so short a time, he answered,
+"trading," and when questioned about the prospects of the El Dorado,
+would answer, with a grin, that it was a "great country for women."
+And this was the end of his California speculation.
+
+
+
+
+THE FRENCH GUARDSMAN.
+
+
+With the army of Marshal Saxe, encamped near Fontenoy ready to give
+battle to the allies, there were not a few ladies, who, impelled by a
+chivalric feeling, or personally interested in the fate of some of the
+combatants, had followed the troops to witness the triumph of the
+French arms. Their presence was at once the incitement and reward of
+valor, for what soldier would not fight with tenfold gallantry when he
+knew that his exploits were witnessed by the eyes of her he loved as
+wife, mistress, or mother, and whose safety or honor, perhaps,
+depended on his prowess?
+
+Among those most distinguished for their beauty was the youthful
+Heloise, the lovely daughter of the Baron de Clairville, a French
+general officer. The _beaux yeux_ of the demoiselle had enslaved more
+than one young officer, but of the host of suitors none could boast
+with reason of encouragement, except Henri de Grandville, and Raoul,
+Count de St. Prix, both commanding companies in the French Guards.
+Both were handsome and accomplished young men, and both had yet their
+spurs to win upon the field of battle. They had been fast friends
+until the pursuit of the same lady had created a sort of estrangement
+between them. Little was known of Henri de Grandville previous to his
+reception of his commission in the guards. He had been brought up by
+his mother in an old provincial chateau, and though his manners and
+education were those of a gentleman, still he seemed but little
+acquainted with the world, and above all ignorant of the lighter
+accomplishments of the courtier. Perhaps this very simplicity of
+manner and frankness of character, contrasting so strangely with the
+fashionable affectations of the court, endeared him to his comrades,
+and strongly prepossessed Heloise de Clairville in his favor. His
+rival was of a different stamp. Raoul de St. Prix was a dashing,
+brilliant officer, brave as steel, but fond of dress, reckless,
+dissipated, and extravagant. Yet his faults were those of his age, and
+belonged to the circumstances by which he was surrounded. The Baron de
+Clairville, while he left his daughter free to make her election, yet,
+as a plain, blunt soldier, rather than a courtier, secretly inclined
+to favor the pretensions of Henri. Still, his treatment of the two
+young guardsmen was the same, for they gave equal promise of military
+gallantry.
+
+It was on the eve of the battle of Fontenoy that Henri sought an
+interview with Heloise, who occupied a gay pavilion near her father's
+tent. He found her alone and weeping.
+
+"Mademoiselle," said he, "you are unhappy. Will you permit a friend to
+inquire the cause of your sorrow?"
+
+"Can you ask me, Monsieur de Grandville! Of the thousands of brave men
+who lie down to-night in peaceful slumber, how many sleep their last
+sleep on earth! How many eyes, that will witness to-morrow's sun
+arise, will be closed forever before it goes down at evening! O, what
+a dreadful business is this trade of war! My poor father, he never
+cares for himself, he never asks his men to go where he is unwilling
+to lead. I fear for his safety in the deadly conflict of to-morrow."
+
+"If the devotion of one faithful follower can save him, lady,"
+answered Henri, "be assured of his safety. I would pour out the blood
+in my veins as freely as water to shield the father of Heloise de
+Clairville."
+
+"But you--you--Henri--Monsieur de Grandville--you think nothing of
+your own life."
+
+"If I fall," answered the young soldier, "my poor mother will weep
+bitterly for her only son, though he perish on the field of honor. But
+who else will shed a tear for the poor guardsman?"
+
+"Henri!" exclaimed the young girl, reproachfully, and the soft eyes
+she raised to his were filled with tears.
+
+"Is it possible?" cried the young soldier. "Can my fate awaken even a
+momentary interest in the heart of the loveliest, the gentlest of her
+sex? Ah, why do you render life so dear to me at the moment I must
+peril it?"
+
+"Believe me," answered Heloise, drying her tears, "that I would not
+hold you back, when honor beckons you. It is to such hands as yours
+that the honor of the golden lilies is committed. I am the daughter of
+a soldier, and though these tears confess my sex, I honor bravery when
+it is displayed in a good cause. I honor the soldier as much as I
+detest the duellist."
+
+"Then listen to one whose sword was never stained with his brother's
+blood. I had thought to go to the field with my secret concealed in my
+own breast, but something impels me to speak out. I love you,
+Heloise--I have dared to love--to adore you."
+
+The fair girl blushed till her very temples were crimsoned over with
+eloquent blood. The young soldier threw himself at her feet, and
+taking the fair hand she abandoned to him, covered it with kisses; nor
+did he rise till he had received confirmation of his new-born hopes,
+and knew that, for good or ill, the heart of Heloise was irrevocably
+his. Finally, he was compelled to tear himself away, but he carried
+to his tent a feeling of delicious joy which steeled his mind against
+all thought of the chances of the morrow.
+
+The moments passed away in delirious revery, but at length he was
+interrupted by St. Prix.
+
+The count was in the worst of humors--his brow was dark with passion,
+and he threw himself into a seat, and flung his plumed hat on the
+table with an energy that betrayed the violence of his emotions.
+
+"What's the matter, Raoul?" asked Henri. "Has Saxe changed his plans?
+Do we fall back instead of advancing?"
+
+"No, thank God! there will be plenty of throat-cutting to-morrow, and
+the French Guards have the post of honor."
+
+"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed Henri, joyfully.
+
+"You seem in excellent spirits to-night, Captain Henri de Grandville."
+
+"I wish I could say as much of you, Captain Raoul de St. Prix."
+
+"Tell me the cause of your felicity."
+
+"Enlighten me respecting your ill humor."
+
+"Willingly, on condition that you will explain your satisfaction."
+
+"Agreed."
+
+"Well, then--you know the marked preference--marked preference, I
+say--always shown me by Mademoiselle Heloise de Clairville."
+
+"I will not dispute with you--go on."
+
+"You must have been blinded by absurd hopes not to have noticed it;
+every officer in the army looked to me as the _futur_ of the lady.
+Well, sir, encouraged and led on by this siren, I made my proposals to
+her to-night. _Ventre St. Gris_! I had engaged to settle with my
+creditors out of her marriage portion."
+
+"Go on--go on--this is excellent, St. Prix."
+
+"Well, sir, she rejected me--me, the Count de St. Prix. A prior
+engagement, forsooth! I wish to Heaven I knew the fellow! Before
+sunrise he should have more button holes in his doublet than ever his
+tailor made."
+
+"Captain St. Prix," replied Henri, "you have not far to look. In me
+behold the fortunate suitor. Come, come; confess that your pride, and
+not your heart, was engaged in the affair. The game was fairly played;
+the stakes are mine."
+
+"This trifling will not pass muster with me, sir," said the count,
+sternly. "Know--if you knew it not before--that Raoul de St. Prix
+never fixed his eye on a prize that he did not obtain, or missing it,
+failed to punish his successful rival. You are a soldier, and you
+understand me, sir," he added, touching his sword knot with his gloved
+hand.
+
+"This is midsummer madness, Raoul," answered Henri, with good temper.
+"Had I been unsuccessful, painful, fatal as the disappointment would
+have been, I should have resigned the lady to you without a struggle."
+
+"That shows the difference between a gentleman and a _parvenu_,"
+retorted St. Prix.
+
+"A _parvenu_!" cried De Grandville, starting to his feet.
+
+"Yes. Who knows you? Whence came you? You are an intruder in our
+ranks."
+
+"I bear the king's commission."
+
+"Yes, and have not courage enough to sustain it. I have defied you to
+your teeth, and you refuse to fight."
+
+"My principles are opposed to duelling. In the words of the lady whose
+preference honors me, 'I honor the soldier as much as I detest the
+duellist.' Besides, has not the marshal strictly forbidden duels in
+the camp? Conscience, reason, authority, every consideration forbids
+my acceptance of the challenge."
+
+"Then," said St. Prix, "you shall submit to an indignity that
+disgraces a French gentleman forever." And raising his sheathed sword,
+he struck De Grandville with the flat of the scabbard.
+
+Henri's sword instantly flashed in the lamplight, and St. Prix drawing
+his rapier, they were instantly engaged in deadly combat. Both were
+expert swordsmen, and while one fought with the ferocity of hatred and
+disappointment, the arm of the other was nerved by a sense of wrong.
+The metallic ring of their blades was unintermitted, for neither
+paused to take breath, but, with teeth set and eyes glaring, thrust,
+parried, advanced, and fell back in the fierce ardor of the combat. At
+last, De Grandville, seeing an opportunity, sent his adversary's blade
+whirling through the air, and drawing back his weapon, prepared to
+thrust it through his breast.
+
+"Strike!" said St. Prix; "you have vanquished me in love and in arms,
+and there is nothing left me but to die."
+
+"Die, then, but on the field of battle, brave Raoul," said de
+Grandville, "and since I have deprived you of your sword, take mine; I
+shall be honored by the exchange."
+
+"Hold!" said a stern voice; and turning, Henri beheld with confusion
+the countenance of Marshal Saxe, who, attended by a file of
+musketeers, had entered the tent at the close of the duel. "You will
+give up your sword to this officer, Captain de Grandville," added he,
+pointing to a commissioned officer by whom he was accompanied. "Count
+de St. Prix, you will pick up your weapon, also, and surrender it.
+Officers who forget themselves so far as to seek each other's lives
+upon the eve of battle, with the enemy before them, are unworthy of
+command. This is matter for the provost marshal."
+
+And the old soldier seated himself at the table, and eyed the
+offenders angrily and sternly.
+
+"May it please your excellency," said St. Prix, "I alone deserve to
+suffer. I insulted the gentleman, and forced him to fight."
+
+"Forced him to fight?" said the marshal. "Hadn't he read the orders of
+the day?"
+
+"I do not claim your clemency, marshal," said Henri. "I committed this
+fault with my eyes open. But a man cannot always command his
+passions."
+
+"That's true, my lad. But what were you fighting about?"
+
+"A woman, your excellency," said St. Prix.
+
+"A woman! fools! a woman that's not to be had without fighting for
+isn't worth having. Well, well--boys will be boys. I pardon you on two
+conditions. In the first place, you must shake hands." Henri and Raoul
+advanced and joined their hands. "And in the next place, that you give
+a good account of yourselves to-morrow. _Sacre nom de Dieu_! I can ill
+spare two lads of spirit from the guards. And now," said the marshal,
+rising, after restoring their swords to the officers, "good night,
+gentlemen; and plenty of hard knocks to-morrow."
+
+The next day witnessed one of those terrible encounters, whose
+sanguinary prints make a more indelible impression on the page of
+history than the records of the more generous deeds of peaceful life.
+The greatest gallantry was displayed on both sides, and on the part of
+the French no officers were more distinguished for their valor than
+the two guardsmen whose encounter on the previous evening we have just
+related. Raoul de St. Prix, in the early part of the engagement, fell
+sword in hand at the head of his company, thus meeting with honor a
+fate he had earnestly desired. Henri de Grandville, in the course of
+the day, found himself in command of the regiment, every officer of
+higher rank having fallen. When the carnage had ceased, he laid a
+stand of captured colors at the feet of the commander-in-chief, and
+was complimented by Marshal Saxe at the head of the army, receiving
+assurance that his gallantry should be at once reported to the king.
+
+Flushed with triumph, the young guardsman flew to the presence of his
+mother, to receive her embrace and recount in modest terms the story
+of his deeds. She rejoiced in his safety, and sympathized with his
+joy. But all at once, as he made her the confident of other hopes, and
+enlarged on the prospect of his speedy union with Heloise de
+Clairville, her countenance changed, and her eyes became suffused with
+tears.
+
+"Dear Henri," said she, "I knew nothing of this. Why did you not
+sooner apprise me of this fatal passion?"
+
+"Fatal passion, dear mother! Why do you thus characterize the love I
+bear to the purest, the most beautiful of her sex?"
+
+"She is, indeed, all that you paint her, Henri; but you must learn the
+hard task of renouncing your hopes. You can never marry her."
+
+"And why so? Do you refuse your consent?"
+
+"Alas! no. But the Baron de Clairville--"
+
+"He regards me with a favorable eye. I have reason to think he knows
+of my attachment to his daughter, and approves of it. Even now, his
+congratulations had a marked meaning, which could hardly be
+ambiguous."
+
+"But a fatal, an insurmountable barrier lies between you and the
+object of your hopes."
+
+"Do not keep me in suspense," cried the young soldier, "Explain this
+mystery, I implore you."
+
+"Have you fortitude to listen to a dreadful secret, the possession of
+which has well nigh destroyed the life of your mother?"
+
+"God will give me strength to bear any stroke," replied Henri. "Thanks
+to your instruction and example, I have schooled myself to suffer,
+unrepining, whatever Providence, in its infinite wisdom, sees fitting
+to inflict. If I have a soul for the dangers of the field, I have
+also, I think, the courage to confront those trials that pierce the
+heart with keener agonies than any the steel of a foeman can inflict.
+Fear not to task me beyond my strength."
+
+"I will be as brief as possible," said the lady. "Your father, Henri,
+was of noble birth and possessed of fortune. My own share of the
+world's goods was small, and yet it was on this pittance alone that we
+were sustained, till the exertions of a generous friend procured you,
+under the name of De Grandville, (my maiden name,) a commission in the
+guards."
+
+"Then De Grandville was not the name of my father."
+
+"No--he belonged to the noble house of Montmorenci. The early years of
+our married life were passed in happiness that I always feared was too
+great to be enduring. It was brought to a bitter and miserable end.
+Deadly enemies--for the best and noblest have their foes--conspired
+against your father, and he was accused--falsely accused, mark me--of
+treason to his king and country. I will not tell you by what forgery
+and perjury he was made to appear guilty--but he was convicted--and
+sentenced--"
+
+"Sentenced!"
+
+"Ay, sentenced, and suffered. He died by the hands of _Monsieur de
+Paris_!"
+
+"_Monsieur de Paris_!"
+
+"The executioner!"
+
+Henri uttered a piercing cry, and covered his face with his hands. He
+remained a long time in this attitude, his frame convulsed by the
+agonies of grief, while his mother watched, with streaming eyes, the
+effect of her communication. At length he removed his hands, and
+raised his head. His countenance was deadly pale,--the only indication
+of the train of emotions which had just convulsed him,--but his look
+was firm and high.
+
+"Mother," said he, pressing her hand, "I thank you. It was better to
+learn this dreadful secret from your lips than from the words of
+another. Henceforth we will live for each other--we shall have a
+common sorrow and a common fate. I pray you to excuse me for a few
+moments. I will soon rejoin you, but I have first a duty to perform."
+
+The young guardsman passed from his mother's presence to that of the
+Baron de Clairville.
+
+"Welcome, welcome! my brave boy," said the old soldier. "You have
+fairly won your spurs."
+
+"Sir, you flatter me," replied Henri, gravely.
+
+"Not at all. Saxe himself says that more distinguished gallantry never
+fell beneath his notice."
+
+"You think then, baron, I can claim a post of honor and danger in the
+next engagement?"
+
+"You can lead the Forlorn Hope if you like."
+
+"Enough, baron. I came to ask your forgiveness."
+
+"My forgiveness!"
+
+"Yes, sir, for having wronged you unconsciously so lately as last
+evening."
+
+"Wronged me, and how, strange boy? you talk in riddles."
+
+"Last evening, sir, on the eve of battle, which might well,
+considering what followed, have been my last of life, I sought your
+daughter. Her manner, some unguarded words she dropped, emboldened me
+to declare a secret which I had hitherto kept fast locked in my
+breast. I threw myself at her feet, and told her that I loved her."
+
+"And she--"
+
+"Confessed that she loved me in return."
+
+"Henri! my boy--my son--my hero! this news makes me young again! it
+gladdens my old heart like the shout of victory upon a stricken field.
+Is this your offence? I freely pardon it."
+
+"You know not all, baron. You knew that I was a poor and obscure
+soldier of fortune."
+
+"The man who has distinguished himself as you have done this day,
+might claim the hand of an emperor's daughter."
+
+"Baron, between me and Heloise there lies a black shadow--a memory--a
+horror, which forbids our meeting. The very name I bear does not
+belong to me."
+
+"And how may you be named, young man, if not De Grandville?"
+
+"Henri de Montmorenci," replied the young soldier.
+
+"De Montmorenci!" cried the baron. "That is a noble and historic name.
+The house of Montmorenci has been well represented in the field."
+
+"_And on the scaffold_!" added Henri, with deep emotion.
+
+"The scaffold!" exclaimed the baron. "Yes, yes; I remember now a
+dreadful tragedy. But _he_ suffered unjustly."
+
+"No matter," answered Henri. "The ignominious punishment remains a
+stain upon our escutcheon. Men will point to me as the son of a
+condemned and executed traitor. Could I forget for a moment the
+tragedy which has rendered my poor mother an animated image of death,
+the finger of the world would recall my wandering thoughts to the
+horrors of the fact. The scaffold, with all its bloody paraphernalia,
+would rise up before me."
+
+"Henri, you are too sensitive," said the baron. "The best and bravest
+of France (alas for our history!) have closed their lives upon the
+scaffold. I believe your father innocent. If it were otherwise, you
+have redeemed the honor of your race. You deserve my daughter's
+hand--take her and be happy."
+
+"Make her the companion of my agony! Never."
+
+"Come with me," said the baron; "her smiles shall dispel these gloomy
+fantasies."
+
+"No, no! urge me not," said the young guardsman. "Let me return to my
+poor mother. She has need of all my consolation. I renounce forever my
+ill-fated attachment. Heaven, for its own wise purposes, has chosen to
+afflict me. Farewell, baron; I thank you for your kindness--your
+generous friendship. You and Heloise will soon learn that Henri de
+Montmorenci is no more. After the next battle, if you seek me out, you
+will find me where the French dead lie thickest on the field."
+
+"Noble-hearted fellow!" cried the baron, when Henri had left him. "He
+ought to be a field marshal."
+
+"Marshal Saxe requests your immediate presence, baron," said an
+aide-de-camp, presenting himself with a salute.
+
+"Monsieur de Baron," said the commander-in-chief, when De Clairville
+had obeyed the summons, "I have chosen you to carry my despatches to
+the king; you will find yourself honorably mentioned therein, and I
+think the favor of royalty will reward your merit."
+
+The baron bowed low as he received the despatches from the hand of the
+marshal, and was soon ready for the journey, first taking a hasty
+farewell of his daughter, whom he commended to the care of Madame de
+Grandville, (or rather Montmorenci,) during his absence.
+
+In five days thereafter, he reported himself to the marshal, and was
+then at liberty to attend to his private concerns. He found Heloise in
+the company of Henri and his mother, and the gloom depicted on their
+countenances presented a singular contrast to the radiant joy that
+sparkled in the eyes and smiled on the lips of the genial and
+warm-hearted old soldier. He kissed his daughter, saluted Madame de
+Grandville, and then, shaking the young guardsman warmly by the hand,
+exclaimed,--
+
+"Good news, Henri; I bring you a budget of them. The king has heard of
+your gallantry, and inquired into your story."
+
+"Heaven bless him!" exclaimed the mother.
+
+"The memory of your father," continued the baron, "has been vindicated
+by a parliamentry decree affirming his innocence. His forfeited
+estates are restored to his family; and I bring you, under the king's
+seal, your commission as full colonel in the French Guards, and
+letters patent of nobility, _Count_ Henri de Montmorenci!"
+
+Henri and his mother were nearly overwhelmed by this good news; while
+Heloise clung to her father's arm for support.
+
+"No fainting, girl," said the happy baron. "That will never do for a
+soldier's wife. Here, take her, count, make her happy--and let us hear
+no more of your volunteering on Forlorn Hopes--at least, during the
+honeymoon."
+
+We need not add that the baron's injunctions were implicitly obeyed.
+
+
+
+
+PERSONAL SATISFACTION.
+
+
+Mrs. Tubbs had been a very fine woman--she was still good looking at
+the period of which we write, but then--
+
+    "Fanny was younger once than she is now,
+    And prettier of course."
+
+She had been married some years. Tubbs was a gentleman farmer, and
+lived out in Roxbury, when land was cheaper there than it is now, and
+a man of moderate means could own a few acres within three miles of
+Boston State House. On retiring from the wholesale West India goods
+business, he had purchased a little estate in the vicinity of the
+Norfolk House, and raised vegetables and other "notions" with the
+usual success attendant upon the agricultural experiments of gentlemen
+amateurs; that is, his potatoes cost him about half a dollar a peck,
+and his quinces ninepence apiece. He had a greenhouse one quarter of a
+mile long, and kept a fire in it all the year round, at the suggestion
+of a rascally gardener, whose brother kept a wood and coal yard. We
+could tell some droll stories about Tubbs's gardening, if they were to
+the purpose. We will mention, however, that when he went into the
+vegetable business he was innocent as a lamb, and verdant as one of
+his own green peapods, and of course he made some curious mistakes. He
+was not aware that the infant bean, like the pious AEneas, was "in the
+habit of carrying its father on its back," and so thinking that nature
+had made a mistake, he reversed the order of the young sprouts, and
+reinterred the aged beans. This was one of his many blunders. However,
+we have nothing to do with his gardening. We have said he was innocent
+as a lamb, but he was by no means so pacific; on the contrary, his
+temper was as inflammable as gun cotton--the slightest spark would set
+it in a blaze.
+
+To return to Mrs. Tubbs, whom we have most ungallantly left in the
+lurch since the first paragraph. She had been into Boston one day,
+shopping, and returned home in the omnibus. She sat between two young
+men. The one on her right was modest and well-behaved, while the other
+was entirely the reverse. He might have been drinking--he might have
+been partially insane--these are charitable suppositions; but at all
+events, he had the impertinence to address Mrs. Tubbs in a low tone,
+audible only to herself. He muttered some compliment to her
+appearance--talked a little nonsense--inoffensive in itself, but
+intolerable as coming from a stranger. Mrs. Tubbs made no reply, but
+she was glad to spring from the conveyance when the driver pulled up
+at the Norfolk House. To her great joy she espied the faithful Tubbs,
+attired in a _blouse_, and wheeling a barrow full of gravel down
+Bartlett Street, with all the dignity of a gentleman farmer, conscious
+of being a useful, if not an ornamental, member of society. She
+accosted him with,--
+
+"Tubbs, love, I've got something to tell you."
+
+Tubbs relinquished the handles of the barrow, and sat down in the
+gravel.
+
+"Mr. Tubbs!" screamed the lady, "you've got your best pantaloons on."
+
+"Never mind, my dear; out with your story, for I'm busy."
+
+"Mr. Tubbs! I've been insulted!"
+
+Mr. Tubbs's head instantly became as red as one of his own blood
+beets.
+
+"Who is the miscreant?" he yelled, jumping up.
+
+"A young man who sat next to me in the omnibus."
+
+"Describe him!"
+
+"Dark hair and eyes, with a black stock, light waistcoat, dark-colored
+coat and pantaloons--"
+
+"Which way did he go?" interrupted Mr. Tubbs.
+
+"Into the hourly office."
+
+"'Tis well! Mrs. T., I'll have his heart's blood!"
+
+"Now, T., be calm!" interposed his better half.
+
+"Mrs. T., I will be calm," was the dignified reply, "calm as the
+surface of Mount AEtna, on the eve of an eruption. Farewell, love, for
+a moment. Have an eye to the wheelbarrow while I have a settlement
+with this scoundrel!"
+
+With these words, Tubbs marched up the hill. He entered the hourly
+office, and looked round him. His first glance lighted on a young man
+who answered the description given by Mrs. Tubbs; but he wished to
+make assurance doubly sure, and so he accosted him politely,--
+
+"Fine growing weather, sir."
+
+"Yes, sir," replied the stranger.
+
+"Peas are doing finely," said Mr. Tubbs.
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"If the weather holds, we can plant corn next week."
+
+"Indeed!"
+
+"Pray, sir," continued Tubbs, "did you come out in the last coach?"
+
+"I did, sir."
+
+"Was there a lady in the coach?"
+
+"There was, sir. I recollect a lady sat next to me."
+
+"_You scoundrel! what did you mean by insulting my wife_?"
+
+This question was followed by a blow, which sent the young gentleman
+sprawling on the floor. Tubbs stood him up, and knocked him down again
+and again, like a man practising on a single pin in a bowling alley.
+The sufferer showed some fight, but Tubbs's blood was up, and he
+hammered down all opposition. The drivers looked on in admiration to
+see "Old Tubbs vollop the chap as had insulted his wife," and so he
+had it all his own way. He dragged the offender out of the office, and
+finished him off on the sidewalk. He was engaged in this laudable
+occupation, when his better half, tired of mounting guard over the
+wheelbarrow, appeared upon the field.
+
+"Mr. Tubbs!" she screamed.
+
+"Wait a minute, my dear. I've only done one side of his head."
+
+"But, Mr. Tubbs! _That wasn't the man_!"
+
+Tubbs suspended operations, and stood fixed in horror. The remains of
+the injured individual were taken into the hourly office. Then came
+remorse and apologies unaccepted and unacceptable--a lawyer's
+letter--an action for assault and battery, and heavy damages. The real
+offender had escaped, and was never heard of; the victim was the
+well-behaved young gentleman, who had sat on Mrs. Tubbs's right. Her
+description, which had answered for both, had occasioned the dilemma,
+which, while it proved an expensive lesson to Mr. Tubbs, was also an
+effectual one, and saved him from many a rash and hasty action, and
+induced him ever afterwards to adopt Colonel Crockett's golden maxim,
+"_Be always sure you're right, then go ahead_."
+
+
+
+
+THE CASTLE ON THE RHINE.
+
+
+In one of those old feudal castles, which, perched, like eagle nests,
+upon the picturesque hills that overhang
+
+    "The wide and winding Rhine,"
+
+and with their crumbling and ivy-grown towers, arrest the eyes of the
+delighted traveller, as he views them from the deck of the gliding
+steamer, there dwelt, some years ago, the Baron Von Rosenburg and his
+lady Mathilde. The baron was a very proud man, and continually
+boasting of his descent from a "long and noble line of martial
+ancestors," gentlemen who were wont, in the "good old times," to wear
+steel on head, back, and breast, and each of whom supported a score of
+retainers in his feudal castle. Where the money comes from to support
+a princely housekeeping, when the head of the family has no property
+or employment, is sometimes a mystery nowadays; but no such doubt
+attached to the resources of the baron's ancestors. These gentlemen,
+when short of provisions, would sally forth at the head of their
+followers, and capture the first drove of cattle they encountered,
+without stopping to inquire into the ownership. Sometimes they made
+excursions on the river, and levied contributions on the little barks
+of traders who often carried valuable cargoes from one Rhine town to
+another.
+
+But the privileges of the robber knights and bandit nobles were sadly
+shorn by the progressive spirit of modern civilization. With a total
+disregard of the immunities of chivalry, modern legislators declared
+that it was as great a crime for a baron to seize on a herd of cattle
+as for a peasant to steal a sheep. Hence the great families along the
+Rhine went into decay. The castles were dismantled, many noble names
+died out, very few remained, the representatives of the ancestral
+glory of olden times.
+
+Among them was the baron. He had been a soldier and a courtier in his
+youth, had spent some time abroad, and was about forty when he married
+a lady of the same age, and settled down in the old family castle of
+Rosenberg. Here he lorded it over the surrounding valley, the simple
+inhabitants of which, though exempt from all feudal obligations, yet
+in some sort regarded themselves as vassals of the baron. They made
+him presents of fish, accompanied him to the chase, and lent him a
+willing hand, whenever he required assistance at the castle.
+
+The baron, though he had the wherewithal to live comfortably enough,
+was yet a poor representative of the race he sprang from. His army
+consisted of a few farm servants, his cavalry of a ploughboy on a
+cart-horse, and his navy of a fishing boat. But, on the whole, he was
+happy. He passed his days either in trimming his vines or hunting, and
+his evenings in poring over mildewed parchments or books of heraldry,
+hunting up long pedigrees, and puffing a monstrous meerschaum till the
+atmosphere was as dense as the interior of a smokehouse. The lady
+Mathilde embroidered from morning till night.
+
+They had, however, a common source of grief. Fate had not blessed them
+with children. The lady yearned for the companionship of a daughter;
+the baron mourned at the prospect of the extinction of his name for
+want of a male heir.
+
+It was while pondering on this subject one day, as they were strolling
+out together, that the baron and his lady came upon the cottage of an
+old soldier named Karl Mueller, who cultivated a little vineyard not
+far from the castle.
+
+The old man was seated on a bench before his door, smoking, and so
+deeply plunged in revery, that he was not aware of the approach of
+visitors till the baron touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"In a brown study, Karl?" said the baron.
+
+"I have enough to think about," returned the soldier "I'm getting old,
+and one thing troubles me."
+
+"What's that, my good fellow?"
+
+"Why, you see, baron, I'm not alone here."
+
+"Not alone?"
+
+"No, sir--I--have--I have a little child here."
+
+"I never knew you were married, Karl."
+
+"Nor was I, your honor. For I always thought an infantry soldier ought
+to be in marching order, and never have more baggage than he could
+carry in his knapsack. No, no; the child is none of mine."
+
+"But it is related to you," said the baroness.
+
+"It is my grandchild, madam," replied the soldier, fixing his eyes on
+the lady; "and the child of as brave a man as ever faced the fire of
+the enemy. He might have been a field marshal, for the matter of that.
+I saw him at Oberstadt when the hussars went down to charge the
+enemy's light cavalry. Faith, madam, they made daylight shine through
+their ranks. Their curved sabres cut them up as the sickle does the
+corn. I saw him, the girl's father, madam, go into that affair with
+the hussars; but he came not out safe. It was pitiful to see his
+uniform all dabbled with blood, as he lay on the ground, and to see
+his pale lips quivering, as he prayed for water. I gave him the last
+drop in my canteen, and I swore I'd protect the child. But I fear I'm
+getting too old for the task."
+
+The baroness, whose eyes were filled with tears, turned to her
+husband, and asked,--
+
+"Shall we not give a shelter to the child of a brave man?"
+
+The baron nodded, and the proposal was accepted by Karl, who retired
+into his cottage, and immediately reappeared, bringing forth a
+beautiful girl of ten, with fair hair and blue eyes, and a form of
+graceful symmetry.
+
+"A girl! nonsense!" said the baron, in a tone of disappointment. But
+the baroness folded the child in her arms with rapture. The child
+responded to the caresses of the lady with equal ardor.
+
+So the little Adelaide was soon domesticated in the castle which her
+frolic spirit filled with gayety. The baroness renewed her youth in
+gazing upon hers, and the baron never scolded her, even when she took
+his pipe out of his mouth, or rummaged among his parchments.
+
+As she grew up to womanhood, she became more serious and thoughtful.
+She was anxious to learn every thing touching her father, but on this
+subject the baroness could give her no information; and Karl, her
+grandfather, seemed equally averse to speaking of it. When hard
+pressed, he promised to speak out at some future time.
+
+One day she was summoned in great haste to the cottage of old Karl.
+The old man had suddenly been taken ill, and required the presence of
+his granddaughter. It was evident, at a glance, that he was on his
+death bed.
+
+"Adelaide," said he, "forgive me, before I die, that I may depart in
+peace."
+
+"Forgive you, dear grandfather! am I not deeply indebted to you?"
+
+"I should have reposed more confidence in you; I should have spoken to
+you about your parents."
+
+"My father?" asked Adelaide.
+
+"Was a brave and good man. But of your mother--your good mother--she
+was--"
+
+Here a spasm interrupted his utterance, and he lay back on his pillow
+gasping for breath. After a brief space he seemed to revive again, and
+made strong efforts to express himself, but his breath failed him. He
+motioned to Adelaide to fetch him writing materials, and while she
+held a sheet of paper on a book before him, he essayed with feeble
+fingers to trace a sentence with a pen. But the rapid approach of
+death foiled all his endeavors to communicate a secret that evidently
+lay close to his heart; and while the young girl bent over him in an
+agony of grief, he gently sighed away his last. The baron and baroness
+found their _protegee_, an hour afterwards, still sorrowing by the
+bedside of her early friend and protector. With gentle violence they
+removed her from the chamber of death, and took her home to the
+castle, where they gave directions to the proper persons to take
+charge of the old soldier's remains, and inter them with that decent
+respect which was due to his character and station. Among his effects
+was found a will, in which he made Adelaide his heiress, bequeathing
+to her his little landed estate, and a small sum in gold, the produce
+of his toil and frugality. This event cast a gloom over the spirits of
+the young maiden, from which, however, her religious persuasions, the
+attention of her friends, and the elasticity of her youth, eventually
+relieved her.
+
+The old castle on the Rhine was gay once more, when Rudolph Ernstein,
+a nephew of the baron, a gay young captain of hussars, whose
+gallantry and beauty had given him reputation at Vienna, came to pay a
+long visit to his uncle. He was a high-spirited and accomplished young
+man, had served with distinction, was a devoted admirer of the ladies,
+and one of those military Adonises who are born to conquest. He was
+charmed to find domesticated beneath the old roof tree so fair and
+lovable a girl as Adelaide, and of course did his best to render his
+society agreeable to her. He sang to her songs of his own writing, to
+airs of his own composition, accompanied on his guitar; he told her
+tales of strange lands that he had visited, of cavalry skirmishes in
+which he had participated, sketched her favorite scenes in pencil, and
+offered to teach her the newest dances in vogue at Vienna. He was a
+dangerous companion to a young girl whose imagination needed but a
+spark to kindle it, and for a time she indulged in the wild hope that
+she had made a conquest of Rudolph. But then her reason told her, that
+even if he loved her, it would be impossible for a young man of family
+to offer his hand to an almost portionless girl, about whose origin a
+veil of mystery seemed wrapped. The names of her parents, even, had
+never been disclosed to her, by the lips of probably the only man who
+knew her history, and those lips were now cold and mute in death.
+Hence the little gleam of sunshine which had for a moment penetrated
+her heart was speedily quenched in a deeper darkness than that which
+reigned in it before, and she could not help viewing the visit of
+Rudolph as an ominous event.
+
+One morning, she was witness to a scene which dashed out the last
+faint glimmering of hope. They were all seated at a huge oaken table,
+from which the servants had just removed the apparatus of the morning
+meal.
+
+"Rudolph," said the baron, after lighting his pipe,--an operation of
+great solemnity and deliberation, and taking a few whiffs to make sure
+that its contents were duly ignited,--"Rudolph, do you know why I sent
+for you to Rosenburg?"
+
+"Why, sir," replied the hussar, "I suppose it was because you really
+have a sort of regard for an idle, good-for-nothing fellow, whose
+redeeming quality is an attachment to a very kind old uncle, and whose
+nonsense and good spirits are perhaps a partial compensation for the
+trouble he gives every body in this tumble-down old castle."
+
+"Tumble-down old castle!" exclaimed the baron, in high dudgeon, the
+latter part of the soldier's speech cancelling the former; "why, you
+jackanapes, it will stand for centuries. It resisted the cannon of
+Napoleon, and it bids defiance to the battering of time. Yes, sir,
+Rosenburg will stand long after your great-great-grandchildren are
+superannuated."
+
+"I am not likely to be blessed in the way you hint at, uncle," said
+the soldier, carelessly. "I am likely, for aught I see, to die a
+bachelor."
+
+"Nonsense!" said the baron. "What's to become of your family name? Do
+you think I will allow it to die out, like the Pumpernickels, the
+Snaphausens, and the Ollenstoffenburgers? No, boy. I sent for you to
+tell you that I have contracted for your hand with my friend the Baron
+Von Steinberg."
+
+"Really, sir, you dispose of me in a very cavalier way."
+
+"That's because you're too careless or lazy to look out for yourself,"
+retorted the baron. "But then you can have no possible objection to
+the present match. The fair Julia is just twenty--eyes, you dog--lips,
+you rascal--a shape, you blockhead, to bewitch an anchorite. And then
+she has the gelt--the money, my boy."
+
+"A commodity of which I happen to be minus," said the soldier.
+
+"Arn't you my heir?" asked the baron.
+
+"You are very kind," said the hussar, with a slight sigh.
+
+He glanced at Adelaide, but he read no sentiment on her calm and
+pensive countenance.
+
+"She's as cold as a glacier on the Donderberg!" he muttered to
+himself.
+
+"Well, sir--you haven't given me an answer," said the baron,
+impatiently.
+
+"My dear uncle," said the soldier, jumping up, and snatching his
+fowling-piece, "it's a glorious morning for sport; and I'm much
+mistaken if I don't add a half dozen brace of birds to your bill of
+fare to-day."
+
+"But the fair Julia Von Steinberg?" said the baron.
+
+"O! I forgot," said Rudolph. "I'm entirely in your hands. Do with me
+as you please. My profession, you know, has given me habits of
+obedience. I suppose I must sacrifice myself. Good morning."
+
+And away he went to enjoy his sport upon the mountains.
+
+"Young, lovely, and rich!" said poor Adelaide, with a sigh, when she
+had regained her room. "If this be true, she is indeed worthy of
+Ernstein. He will love her--they will be happy--and I--I can but wish
+them joy, and die."
+
+There was great preparation in the castle Von Rosenburg, that day
+week, for the reception of the prospective bride. Every thing was
+cleaned and furbished up, from battlement to dungeon keep. An old flag
+with the family arms was hoisted from the rampart, and the butler, who
+had served in the wars of the Alliance, mounted an old swivel on the
+ramparts with the intention of firing it off, on the approach of the
+old family carriage of the Von Steinbergs, Captain Rudolph Von
+Ernstein, in his splendid hussar uniform, looked the beau ideal of a
+soldier lover. Even the baron was rejuvenated by a court suit that had
+not seen the light since the nuptials of Maria Louisa and the Emperor
+Napoleon.
+
+At last the carriage appeared. The villagers and hangers on of the
+establishment hurrahed in the court yard as it drew up, the old butler
+applied the match to the priming of the swivel and was prostrated by
+the discharge, while the baron came near tumbling over his sword in
+his eagerness to welcome his old friend and his old friend's daughter.
+
+The Baron Von Steinberg alighted and bowed his thanks; while Captain
+Rudolph handed out the lovely Julia. As her light foot touched the
+pavement, Adelaide advanced to offer a bouquet; at one glance she
+appreciated the exquisite beauty of her rival, and dropping the
+flowers, retired to an obscure corner of the court yard to conceal her
+anguish and despair.
+
+The festive train swept into the castle. All was gayety and uproar
+within doors. The baron could scarce contain the transports of his
+joy; and Von Steinberg was equally excited. The excitement, however,
+seemed to be too much for the fair Julia, whose cheek was paler than
+the satin robe she wore, while Rudolph, perhaps from sympathy, was
+uneasy and agitated.
+
+At last the bell of the castle was rung for dinner, and the party
+proceeded to the great hall. But Adelaide did not make her appearance.
+Search was made for her; she was not in her apartment. An angry flush
+overspread the brow of old Rosenburg at this announcement, and after
+some minutes passed in waiting for her appearance, he ordered dinner
+to be served without her. The repast was not a very gay one,
+notwithstanding the efforts of the master of the house to make it so.
+Night had long fallen, and Adelaide did not reappear. The family, from
+being vexed, now became alarmed, and it was determined to go in search
+of her. Rudolph and the baron went forth with two servants and torches
+to scour the woods, after vainly searching through the castle. One of
+the men went on in advance. He had been gone but a short time when he
+came back speechless with grief and amazement. Rudolph and his uncle
+pushed forward through the thickets, and on the banks of a small
+stream, dammed up to form a lake, they found the bonnet and shawl of
+the missing girl.
+
+"Good God!" exclaimed Rudolph, "she has destroyed herself. I have
+noticed a strange wildness in her appearance for several days past; in
+a fit of mental aberration she has wandered away, and here found her
+death."
+
+A piercing scream was heard at this moment. The baroness, who had
+followed them, had recognized the garments of Adelaide.
+
+"My child! my child!" she shrieked, "my own! my beautiful! she is no
+more."
+
+"This is worse and worse," said the baron, wringing his hands. "This
+will make us all mad."
+
+But at this moment a boat was seen approaching. It was the miller, who
+brought with him the body of Adelaide, dripping as it had been drawn
+from the water. He laid her fair form upon the bank. The baroness, who
+could not be restrained, threw herself beside her, and kissed her pale
+lips. Rudolph, too, seized the cold hands.
+
+"She lives!" he exclaimed. "She is not lost to us!"
+
+"Rudolph--dear Rudolph!" murmured the poor girl.
+
+"My child! my child! she lives!" cried the baroness.
+
+And it was indeed so. She had thrown herself into the water, indeed,
+but the miller, who happened to be at hand, had flown to her rescue,
+and she was now, by the united efforts of her friends, restored to
+consciousness.
+
+"Dear, dear Adelaide!" cried the baroness; "your life repays me now
+for all my sufferings. Yes, dearest, you are my own, my only child.
+Yes, baron," she added, noticing the incredulous expression of her
+husband--"the supposed death of a daughter has wrung from a mother's
+heart the despairing cry that betrayed her secret. In former days, I
+married, secretly, Colonel Schonfeldt, a brave soldier of the emperor,
+against whom my parents cherished a deadly enmity. He fell upon the
+field of battle, and this poor girl, the fruit of our love, was
+committed to the hands of strangers, till such time as I could take
+her to my heart. I avow it without shame, nor can you, baron, whose
+noble qualities won my heart, reproach me with the love I bear this
+dear girl."
+
+"She is my child now," said the baron, "as well as yours. Let us take
+her back to the castle; she is a precious charge."
+
+"I will see to her," said Rudolph, "and it shall not be my fault if
+she ever have another protector."
+
+So the party regained the castle, where Von Steinberg and Julia were
+anxiously awaiting their return.
+
+When Adelaide had been carefully attended to, Rudolph sought his uncle
+and guests in the great hall.
+
+"Miss Julia Von Steinberg," said the soldier, "since confessions are
+the order of the night, I must place mine on record. I met you to-day
+in obedience to orders, believing my heart was my own. The event of
+to-night has told me too truly that I had unconsciously lost it. But I
+am a man of honor, and if you will accept my hand without my heart,
+it is yours."
+
+"Captain Ernstein," replied the beauty, "I thank you for your frank
+confession. I cannot possibly accept your hand without your heart.
+Nay--do not frown, father--I have a secret for your ear, and if you do
+not wish to wreck your daughter's happiness, you will urge me no
+further."
+
+Von Steinberg frowned, and pshawed, and pished, and then, clearing his
+voice, addressed the baron.
+
+"Come, Von Rosenberg," said he, "confess that we have been acting like
+a couple of old fools, in trying our hand at match making--it is a
+business for the young people themselves, and not for old soldiers
+like us. Say, shall we reduce the mutineers to obedience, or shall we
+let them have it their own way?"
+
+"Circumstances alter cases," answered the baron. "When I proposed for
+Julia's hand, I didn't know my wife had a daughter to marry. And if
+that were not the case, I am inclined to think the secret alluded to
+by the young lady, would prove an insuperable obstacle to the
+ratification of our treaty."
+
+This secret was no other than a love affair between the fair Julia and
+a certain count who had waltzed with her at the baths of Baden-Baden,
+the preceding summer. We are glad to say that the flirtation thus
+happily commenced ended in matrimony. As for Rudolph, he was shortly
+after united to the fair Adelaide, on which occasion the baron gave
+such a rouse as the old towers of Von Rosenberg had not known since
+the rollicking days of its first feudal masters. It was illuminated at
+every window and loophole, so that the waters of the Rhine rolled
+beneath it a sea of fire, or as if their channels were overflowed
+with generous Asmanshausen; and the old butler discharged his swivel
+so many times that he had to be taken down from the battlements and
+drenched with Rhenish to preserve his life.
+
+Thus ended all that is worthy commemorating in the modern history of
+the Castle on the Rhine.
+
+
+
+
+LOVE IN A COTTAGE.
+
+
+"Tell me, Charley, who is that fascinating creature in blue that
+waltzes so divinely?" asked young Frank Belmont of his friend Charles
+Hastings, as they stood "playing wallflower" for the moment, at a
+military ball.
+
+"Julia Heathcote," answered Charles, with a half sigh, "an old flame
+of mine. I proposed, but she refused me."
+
+"On what ground?"
+
+"Simply because I had a comfortable income. Her head is full of
+romantic notions, and she dreams of nothing but love in a cottage. She
+contends that poverty is essential to happiness--and money its bane."
+
+"Have you given up all hopes of her?"
+
+"Entirely; in fact, I'm engaged."
+
+"Then you have no objections to my addressing this dear, romantic
+angel?"
+
+"None whatever. But I see my _fiancee_--excuse me--I must walk through
+the next quadrille with her."
+
+Frank Belmont was a stranger in Boston--a New Yorker--immensely rich
+and fashionable, but his reputation had not preceded him, and Charley
+Hastings was the only man who knew him in New England. He procured an
+introduction to the beauty from one of the managers, and soon danced
+and talked himself into her good graces. In fact, it was a clear case
+of love at first sight on both sides.
+
+The enamoured pair were sitting apart, enjoying a most delightful
+_tete-a-tete_. Suddenly Belmont heaved a deep sigh.
+
+"Why do you sigh, Mr. Belmont?" asked the fair Julia, somewhat pleased
+with this proof of sensibility. "Is not this a gay scene?"
+
+"Alas! yes," replied Belmont, gloomily; "but fate does not permit me
+to mingle habitually in scenes like this. They only make my ordinary
+life doubly gloomy--and even here I deem to see the shadow of a fiend
+waving me away. What right have I to be here?"
+
+"What fiend do you allude to?" asked Miss Heathcote, with increasing
+interest.
+
+"A fiend hardly presentable in good society," replied Belmont,
+bitterly. "One could tolerate a Mephistophiles--a dignified fiend,
+with his pockets full of money--but my tormentor, if personified,
+would appear with seedy boots and a shocking bad hat."
+
+"How absurd!"
+
+"It is too true," sighed Belmont, "and the name of this fiend is
+_Poverty_!"
+
+"Are you poor?"
+
+"Yes, madam. I am poor, and when I would fain render myself agreeable
+in the eyes of beauty--in the eyes of one I could love, this fiend
+whispers me, 'Beware! you have nothing to offer her but love in a
+cottage.'"
+
+"Mr. Belmont," said Julia, with sparkling eyes, and a voice of unusual
+animation, "although there are sordid souls in this world, who only
+judge of the merits of an individual by his pecuniary possessions, I
+am not one of that number. I respect poverty; there is something
+highly poetical about it, and I imagine that happiness is oftener
+found in the humble cottage than beneath the palace roof."
+
+Belmont appeared enchanted with this encouraging avowal. The next
+day, after cautioning his friend Charley to say nothing of his actual
+circumstances, he called on the widow Heathcote and her fair daughter
+in the character of the "poor gentleman." The widow had very different
+notions from her romantic offspring, and when Belmont candidly
+confessed his poverty on soliciting permission to address Julia, he
+was very politely requested to change the subject, and never mention
+it again.
+
+The result of all this manoeuvring was an elopement; the belle of
+the ball jumping out of a chamber window on a shed, and coming down a
+flight of steps to reach her lover, for the sake of being romantic,
+when she might just as well have walked out of the front door.
+
+The happy couple passed a day in New York city, and then Frank took
+his beloved to his "cottage."
+
+An Irish hack conveyed them to a miserable shanty in the environs of
+New York, where they alighted, and Frank, escorting the bride into the
+apartment which served for parlor, kitchen, and drawing room, and was
+neither papered nor carpeted, introduced her to his mother, much in
+the way Claude Melnotte presents Pauline. The old woman, who was
+peeling potatoes, hastily wiped her hands and face with a greasy
+apron, and saluted her "darter," as she called her, on both cheeks.
+
+"Can it be possible," thought Julia, "that this vulgar creature is my
+Belmont's mother?"
+
+"Frank!" screamed the old woman, "you'd better go right up stairs and
+take off them clothes--for the boy's been sent arter 'em more'n fifty
+times. Frank borried them clothes, ma'am," she added to Julia, by way
+of explanation, "to look smart when he went down east."
+
+The bridegroom retired on this hint, and soon reappeared in a pair of
+faded nankeen pantaloons, reaching to about the calf of the leg, a
+very shabby black coat, out at the elbows, a ragged black vest, and,
+instead of his varnished leather boots, a pair of immense cowhide
+brogans.
+
+"Now," said he, sitting quietly down by the cooking stove, "I begin to
+feel at home. Ah! this is delightful, isn't it, dearest?" and he
+warbled,--
+
+    "Though never so humble, there's no place like home."
+
+Julia's heart swelled so that she could not utter a word.
+
+"Dearest," said Frank, "I think you told me you had no objection to
+smoking?"
+
+"None in the least," said the bride; "I rather like the flavor of a
+cigar."
+
+"O, a cigar!" replied Belmont; "that would never do for a poor man."
+
+And O, horror! he produced an old clay pipe, and filling it from a
+little newspaper parcel of tobacco, began to smoke with a keen relish.
+
+"Dinner! dinner!" he exclaimed at length; "ah! thank you, mother; I'm
+as hungry as a bear. Codfish and potatoes, Julia--not very tempting
+fare--but what of that? our aliment is love!"
+
+"Yes, and by way of treat," added the old woman, "I've been and gone
+and bought a whole pint of Albany ale, and three cream cakes, from the
+candy shop next block."
+
+Poor Julia pleaded indisposition, and could not eat a mouthful. Before
+Belmont, however, the codfish and potatoes, and the ale, and cream
+cakes disappeared with a very unromantic and unlover-like velocity. At
+the close of the meal, a thundering double knock was heard at the
+door.
+
+"Come in!" cried Belmont.
+
+A low-browed man, in a green waistcoat, entered.
+
+"Now, Misther Belmont," he exclaimed, in a strong Hibernian accent,
+"are ye ready to go to work? By the powers! if I don't see ye sailed
+to-morrow on the shopboard, I'll discharge ye without a character--and
+ye shall starve on the top of that."
+
+"To-morrow morning, Mr. Maloney," replied Belmont, meekly, "I'll be at
+my post."
+
+"And it'll be mighty healthy for you to do that same," replied the man
+as he retired.
+
+"Belmont, speak--tell me," gasped Julia, "who is that man--that
+loafer?"
+
+"He is my employer," answered Belmont, smiling.
+
+"And his profession?"
+
+"He is a tailor."
+
+"And you?"
+
+"Am a journeyman tailor, at your service--a laborious and thankless
+calling it ever was to me--but now, dearest, as I drive the hissing
+goose across the smoking seam, I shall think of my own angel and my
+dear cottage, and be happy."
+
+That night Julia retired weeping to her room in the attic.
+
+"That 'ere counterpin, darter," said the old woman, "I worked with
+these here old hands. Ain't it putty? I hope you'll sleep well here.
+There's a broken pane of glass, but I've put one of Frank's old hats
+in it, and I don't think you'll feel the draught. There used to be a
+good many rats here, but I don't think they'll trouble you now, for
+Frank's been a pizinin' of 'em."
+
+Left alone, Julia threw herself into a chair, and burst into a flood
+of tears. Even Belmont had ceased to be attractive in her eyes--the
+stern privations that surrounded her banished all thoughts of love.
+The realities of life had cured her in one day of all her Quixotic
+notions.
+
+"Well, Julia, how do you like poverty and love in a cottage?" asked
+Belmont, entering in his bridal dress.
+
+"Not so well, sir, as you seem to like that borrowed suit," answered
+the bride, reddening with vexation.
+
+"Very well; you shall suffer it no longer. My carriage awaits your
+orders at the door."
+
+"Your carriage, indeed!"
+
+"Yes, dearest, it waits but for you, to bear us to Belmont Hall, my
+lovely villa on the Hudson."
+
+"And your mother?"
+
+"I have no mother, alas! The old woman down stairs is an old servant
+of the family."
+
+"Then you've been deceiving me, Frank--how wicked!"
+
+"It was all done with a good motive. You were not born to endure a
+life of privation, but to shine the ornament of an elegant and refined
+circle. I hope you will not love me the less when you learn that I am
+worth nearly half a million--that's the melancholy fact, and I can't
+help it."
+
+"O Frank!" cried the beautiful girl, and hid her face in his bosom.
+
+She presided with grace at the elegant festivities of Belmont Hall,
+and seemed to support her husband's wealth and luxurious style of
+living with the greatest fortitude and resignation, never complaining
+of her comforts, nor murmuring a wish for living in a cottage.
+
+
+
+
+THE CAREER OF AN ARTIST.
+
+     I woke up one morning and found myself
+     famous.--BYRON.
+
+
+Julian Montfort was a farmer's boy; bred up to the plough handle and
+cart tail. His father and mother were plain, honest people, of
+hard-working habits and limited ideas, and without the slightest dash
+of romance in their temperaments. Their house, their lands were
+unprepossessing in appearance. The soil was impoverished by long and
+illiberal culture; and old Montfort had a true old-fashioned prejudice
+against trees. Instead of smiling hedgerows, with here and there a
+weeping elm or plumy evergreen to cast their graceful shadows upon the
+pasture land, his acres were enclosed with harsh stone walls, or an
+unpicturesque Virginia fence with its zigzag of rude rails. The farmer
+had an equal prejudice against books, "book larnin', and book-larned
+men." Of course, with these ideas, Julian's education was limited to a
+few quarters' schooling under an old pedagogue, whose native language
+was Dutch, and who never took very kindly to the English tongue.
+Besides, teaching was only an episode with him; for his vocation was
+that of a clergyman, and he held forth on Sundays in alternate Dutch
+and English to his little congregation--as is still the custom in many
+of the small agricultural parishes in New York State, where the scene
+of our veritable story lies.
+
+Our hero, young Julian, early began to show a restiveness under the
+training he received, which sadly perplexed his plain matter-of-fact
+father. The latter could not conceive why the boy should sometimes
+leave his plough in the furrow, and sit upon a hillock, gazing
+curiously and admiringly upon a simple wild flower. He knew not why
+the youth should stand with his eyes fixed upon the western sky when
+it was pavilioned with crimson, and gold, and purple; or later yet,
+when, one by one, the stars came timidly forth and took their places
+in the darkening heaven. He shook his head at these manifestations,
+and confidently informed his help-mate that he feared the boy was "not
+right"--significantly touching, as he spoke, that portion of his
+anatomy where he fondly imagined a vast quantity of brain of very
+superior quality was safely stowed away, guarded by a sufficient
+quantity of skull to protect it against any accident. Neither he nor
+the good wife imagined, for a moment, that Julian was a genius, and
+that his talent, circumscribed by circumstances, was struggling for an
+outlet for its development.
+
+At last the divine spark within him was kindled into flame. An
+itinerant portrait painter came round, with his tools of trade, and
+did the dominie in brown and red, and the squire's daughter in
+vermilion and flake white, and set the whole village agog with his
+marvellous achievements. Julian cultivated his acquaintance, received
+some secret instructions in the A B C of art, and bargained for some
+drawing and painting materials. His aspirations had at length found an
+object. Long and painfully he labored in secret; but his advances were
+rapid, for he took nature as a model. At last he ventured to display
+his latest achievement--a small portrait of his father. It was first
+shown to his mother, and filled her with astonishment and delight. It
+is the privilege of woman, however circumstanced, to appreciate and
+applaud true genius. Of course, Moliere's housekeeper occurs to the
+reader as an illustration. The picture was next shown to the old man.
+He gazed at it with a sort of silent horror, puffing the smoke from
+his pipe in short, spasmodic jerks, and slowly shaking his head before
+he spoke.
+
+"Do you know it, father?" asked the young artist.
+
+"Know it!" exclaimed the old man. "Yes--yes--I see myself there like I
+was lookin' into a glass. There's my nose, and eyes, and mouth, and
+hair; yes, and there's my pipe. It ain't right--it can't be
+right--it's witchcraft. Satan must ha' helped you, boy--you couldn't
+never ha' done it without the aid of the evil one."
+
+This was a sad damper. But just then the dominie luckily happened in
+to take a pipe with his parishioner. He pronounced the work excellent,
+and satisfied his old friend's doubts as to the honesty of the
+transaction. Julian blessed the old man in his heart for the comfort
+he afforded.
+
+And now the fame of the young painter flew through the village. The
+tavern keeper ordered a head of General Washington for his sign board,
+the old one--originally a portrait of the Duke of Cambridge with the
+court dress painted out--not satisfying some of his critical
+customers. And for the blacksmith, Montfort painted a rampant black
+horse, prevented from falling backward by a solid tail. The stable
+keeper also gave him orders for sundry coats of arms to be depicted on
+wagon panels and sleigh dashers, so that the incipient artist had
+plenty of orders and not a little cash.
+
+But he soon grew tired of this local reputation. He panted for the
+association of kindred spirits; for the impulse and example to be
+found in some great centre of civilization; for refinement, fame--all
+that is dear to an ardent imagination. And so, one morning, he
+announced his intention of seeking his fortune in the city of New
+York.
+
+His mother was sad, but did not oppose his wishes; his father shook
+his head, as he always did when any thing was proposed--no matter
+what. The old gentleman seemed to derive great pleasure from shaking
+his head, and no one interfered with so harmless an amusement.
+
+"Goin' to York, hey?" said he, emitting sundry puffs of smoke. "The
+Yorkers are a curious set of people, boy. I read into a paper once't
+about how they car' on--droppin' pocket books, and sellin' brass
+watches for gold, and knockin' people down and stompin' onto 'em."
+
+"But the dominie thinks I might make money there," said the young man.
+
+"O, then you'd better go. The dominie's got a longer head than you or
+I, boy," said the old man.
+
+"Yes, father," said the youth, kindling with animation. "In New York I
+am sure to win fame and fortune. I shall come back, then, and buy you
+a better farm, and hire hands for you, so that you won't be obliged to
+work so hard--and you can set out trees."
+
+"Hain't no opinion of trees," said the old man, shaking his head.
+
+"Well, well, father, you shall have money, and do what you like with
+it; for my part I shall be content with fame."
+
+"Fame! what is that?" said the old man, laying down his pipe in
+bewilderment.
+
+"Fame! Do you ask what fame is?" exclaimed the romantic boy. But he
+paused, convinced in a moment of the perfect futility of attempting to
+convey an idea of the unsubstantial phantom to the old man's
+intellect. Perhaps the old farmer was the better philosopher of the
+two.
+
+But Julian gained his point, and departed for the great city--the goal
+of so many struggles, the grave of so many hopes. He was at first
+dazzled by the splendors of the artificial life, into the heart of
+which he plunged; and then, with a homesick feeling, he sighed for
+that verdurous luxury of nature he had left. He missed the trees--for
+he thought the shabby and rusty foliage of the Battery and Park hardly
+worthy of that name. But, in time to save him from utter
+disappointment and heart sickness, there opened on his vision the
+glorious dawning of the world of art. He passed from gallery to
+gallery, and from studio to studio, drinking in the beauties that
+unfolded before him with the eyes of his body and his soul. He was
+enraptured, dazzled, enchanted. Then he settled down to work in his
+humble room, economizing the scanty funds he had brought with him to
+the city. Like many young aspirants, he grasped, at first, at the most
+difficult subjects. He constantly groped for a high ideal. He would
+fly before he had learned to walk. With an imperfect knowledge of
+architecture and anatomy, and a limited stock of information, he would
+paint history--mythology. He sought to illustrate poetry, and dared
+attempt scenes from the Bible, Shakspeare, and Milton. He failed,
+though there were glimpses of grandeur and glory in his faulty
+attempts.
+
+Then he turned back, with a sickening feeling, to the elements of art,
+distasteful as he found them. It was hard to pore over rectangles and
+curves, bones and muscles, angles and measurements, after sporting
+with irregular forms and fascinating colors. He tried portraiture, but
+he had no feeling for the business. He could not transfigure the dull
+and commonplace heads he was to copy. He had not the nice tact that
+makes beauty of ugliness without the loss of identity. He could not
+ennoble vulgarians. The sordid man bore the stamp of baseness on his
+canvas. His pictures were too true; and truth is death to the portrait
+painter.
+
+He began to grow morbid in his feelings, and was fast verging to a
+misanthrope. His clothes grew shabby, and looked shabbier for his
+careless way of wearing them. He was often cold and hungry. There were
+times when he viewed with envy and hate the evidences of prosperity he
+saw about him. He railed against those pursuits of life which made men
+rich and prosperous. He began to think with the French demagogue, that
+"property was a theft," and to regard with great favor the socialistic
+doctrines then coming into vogue. The American social system he
+pronounced corrupt and rotten, and deserving to be uprooted and
+subverted. And this was the rustic boy, who, a few months before, had
+left his home so full of hope, and generous feeling, and high
+aspiration.
+
+There were times when he yearned for the humble scenes of his boyhood.
+But he was too proud to throw up his pencils and palette, and go back
+to the old farm house; and so he found a vent for his home feeling in
+painting some of the scenes of his earliest life--the rustic dances,
+the huskings, the haymakings, and junketings with which he was so
+familiar.
+
+One of these pictures--a rustic dance was the subject--he sent to a
+gilder's to be framed. He had consecrated three dollars to this
+purpose, and went one day to see how his commission had been executed.
+He found the picture framer, who was also a picture dealer, in his
+shirt sleeves, talking with a middle-aged gentleman, who was praising
+his performance.
+
+"Really a very clever thing," said the gentleman, scanning the
+painting through his gold-bowed eye glasses.
+
+"The composition, coloring, and light and shade, are admirable; but
+the life, animation, and naturalness of the figures make its great
+charm. Ah, why don't our artists study to produce life as it exists
+around them, and as they themselves know it and feel it, instead of
+giving us the gods and goddesses of a defunct and false religion, and
+scenes three thousand miles and years away?"
+
+"Mr. Greville," said the picture framer, "allow me to make you
+acquainted with the artist, Mr. Montfort; he's a next-door neighbor of
+yours--lives at No ----, Broadway."
+
+"Mr. Montfort," said the gentleman, warmly shaking the hand the artist
+shyly extended, "you found me admiring your work. And I'm sure I did
+not know I had so talented a neighbor. I shall be glad to be better
+acquainted with you. I presume your picture is for sale."
+
+"Not so, sir," replied the artist, coldly. "It is a reminiscence of
+earlier and happier days. It was painted for my own satisfaction, and
+I shall keep it as long as I have a place to hang it in. It is a
+common mistake, sir, with our patrons, to suppose they can buy our
+souls as well as our labor."
+
+Mr. Greville's cheek flushed; but as he glanced at the shabby exterior
+and wan face of the artist, his color faded, and he answered gently--
+
+"Believe me, Mr. Montfort, I am not one of the persons you
+describe--if, indeed, they exist elsewhere but in your imagination. I
+should be the last person to fail in sympathy for the high-toned
+feelings of an artist; for in early life I was thought to manifest a
+talent for art--and, indeed, I had a strong desire to follow the
+vocation."
+
+"And you abandoned it--you turned a deaf ear to the divine
+inspiration--you preferred wealth to glory--to be one of the vulgar
+many rather than to belong to the choice few. I congratulate you, Mr.
+Greville, on your taste."
+
+"You judge me harshly, Mr. Montfort," replied the gentleman,
+pleasantly. "I am hardly required to justify my choice of calling to a
+perfect stranger; and yet your very frankness induces me to say a word
+or two of the motives which impelled me. My parents were poor. An
+artist's life seemed to hold no immediate prospects of competence.
+They to whom I owed my being might die of want before I had
+established a reputation. I had an opportunity to enter commercial
+life advantageously. I prospered. I have lived to see the declining
+days of my parents cheered by every comfort, and to rear a family in
+comfort and opulence. One of my boys promises to make a good artist.
+Fortunately, I can bestow on him the means of following the bent of
+his inclination. Instead of being an indifferent painter myself, I am
+an extensive purchaser of works of art, so that my conscience acquits
+me of any very great wrong in the course I adopted."
+
+Montfort was silent; he was worsted in the argument.
+
+"Mr. Montfort," pursued the gentleman, after a pause, "my evenings are
+always at my disposal, and I like to surround myself with men of
+talent. I have already a large circle of acquaintances among artists,
+musicians, and literary men, and once a week they meet at my house; I
+shall be very happy to see you among us. To-night is my evening of
+reception--will you join us?"
+
+Proud and shy as he was, Montfort could not help accepting an
+invitation so frankly and pleasantly tendered. He promised to come.
+
+"One favor more," said Mr. Greville. "You won't sell that picture.
+Will you lend it to me for a day or two?"
+
+"I cannot refuse you, of course, Mr. Greville."
+
+"If you have the slightest objection, say so frankly," said the
+kind-hearted merchant.
+
+"I have not the slightest objection, Mr. Greville. It is entirely at
+your disposal."
+
+Mr. Greville was profuse in his thanks.
+
+"Shall I send it to your house?" said the picture framer.
+
+"No, Mr. Tennant," replied the merchant. "It is too valuable to be
+trusted out of my hands. I am personally responsible, and I fear that
+I am not rich enough to remunerate the artist, if any harm happens to
+it."
+
+With these words, bowing to the artist, Mr. Greville took the picture
+carefully under his arm, and left the shop, Montfort soon following.
+
+"Well, I declare," said the picture framer, when he was left alone,
+"artists is queer animils, and no mistake. Neglect 'em, and it makes
+'em as mad as a short-horned bull in fly time; coax 'em and pat 'em,
+and they lets fly their heels in your face. Seems to me, if I was an
+artist, I shouldn't be particular about being a hog, too. There ain't
+no sense in it. Now, it beats my notion all to pieces to see how Mr.
+Greville could talk so pleasantly and gentlemanly to that dratted
+Montfort, and he flyin' into his face all the time like a tarrier dog.
+I'd a punched his head for him, I would--if they'd had me up afore the
+Sessions for saltin' and batterin'. Consequently it's better to be a
+pictur' framer than a pictur' painter. Cause why?--a pictur' framer is
+a gentleman, and a pictur' painter is a hog."
+
+There was a good deal of truth in what Mr. Tennant said, mixed up with
+a good deal of uncharitableness. But what did he know of the _genus
+irritabile vatum_?
+
+Evening came; and after many misgivings, Montfort, in an eclectic
+costume, selected from his whole wardrobe, at a late hour, ventured
+to emerge from his humble domicile, and present himself at the
+rosewood portal of his aristocratic neighbor. He soon found himself in
+the dazzling drawing room, bewildered by the lights, and the splendor
+of the decoration and the furniture. Mr. Greville saw his
+embarrassment, and hastened to dispel it. He shook him warmly by the
+hand, and presented him to his lady and daughter, and then to a crowd
+of guests. A distinguished artist begged the honor of an introduction
+to him, and he soon found himself among people who understood him, and
+with whom he could converse at his ease. Though he was lionized, he
+was lionized by people who understood the sensitiveness of artistic
+natures. They flattered delicately and tastefully. Their incense
+excited, but did not intoxicate or suffocate. In one of the drawing
+rooms the gratified artist beheld his picture placed in an admirable
+light, the cynosure of all eyes, and the theme of all lips.
+
+"I am certainly very much indebted to you for placing it so
+advantageously," said the artist to his host. "It owes at least half
+its success to the arrangement of the light."
+
+"Do you hear that, Caroline?" asked Mr. Greville, turning to his
+beautiful daughter, who stood smiling beside him.
+
+"I was afraid I had made some mistake in the arrangement," said the
+beautiful girl, blushing with pleasure.
+
+Montfort attempted a complimentary remark, but his tongue failed him.
+He would have given worlds for the self-possession of some of the
+_nonchalant_ dandies he saw hovering around the peerless beauty. He
+was forced to content himself with awkwardly bowing his thanks.
+
+In the latter part of the evening, one of the rooms was cleared for a
+dance. Montfort was solicited to join in a quadrille, and a beautiful
+partner was even presented to his notice; but he wanted confidence
+and knowledge, and he had no faith in the integrity of the gaiter
+shoes he had vamped up for the occasion, so that he was forced to
+decline. This incident revived some of his morbid feelings that had
+begun to slumber, and he caught himself muttering something about the
+"frivolities of fashion."
+
+He thought to make his exit unnoticed; but Mr. Greville detected him,
+and urged him to repeat his visit.
+
+The next day, during his reception hours, several visitors called--an
+unheard-of thing. They glanced indifferently at his mythological
+daubs, but were enthusiastic in their praises of his rustic subjects.
+The day following, more visitors came. He was offered and accepted
+four hundred dollars for one of his cabinet pictures. In a word,
+orders flowed in upon him; he could hardly paint fast enough to supply
+the demand. He became rather fastidious in his dress--patronized the
+first tailors and boot makers, cultivated the graces, and took lessons
+in the waltz and polka. At Mr. Greville's, and some of the other
+houses he visited, he was remarked as being somewhat of a dandy. And
+this was Montfort the misanthrope--Montfort the socialist--Montfort
+the agrarian.
+
+An important episode in his career was an order to paint the portrait
+of Miss Caroline Greville. He had already had three or four sittings,
+and the picture was approaching completion; then the work suddenly
+ceased. Day after day the artist pleaded engagements. At the same time
+he discontinued his visits at the house.
+
+Mr. Greville, somewhat offended, called on Montfort for an
+explanation. He found his daughter's picture covered by a curtain.
+
+"My dear sir," said he, "how does it happen that you can't go on with
+that picture? My wife is very anxious about it."
+
+"I can never finish it," said the artist sadly.
+
+"How so, my young friend?"
+
+"Mr. Greville, I will be frank with you. I love your daughter; I, a
+poor artist, have dared to lift my eyes to the child of the opulent
+merchant. I have never in look or word, though, led her to divine my
+feelings--the secret is in my own keeping. But I cannot see her day
+after day--I cannot scan her beautiful and innocent features, or
+listen to the brilliant flow of her conversation, without agony. This
+has compelled me, sir, to suspend my work."
+
+"Mr. Julian Montfort," said the merchant, "you seem bent--excuse
+me--on making yourself miserable. You are no longer a poor artist; you
+have a fortune in your pencil. Your profession is now a surer thing
+than mine. There is no gentleman in the city who ought not to be proud
+of your alliance; and if you can make yourself acceptable to my
+daughter, why, take her and be happy."
+
+How Julian sped in his wooing may be inferred from the fact that, at a
+certain wedding ceremony in Grace Church, he performed the important
+part of bridegroom to the bride of Miss Caroline Greville; and after
+the usual quantity of hand shakings, and tears, and kisses, and all
+the usual efforts to make a wedding resemble a funeral as much as
+possible, Mr. and Mrs. Montfort took passage in one of the Havre
+steamers for an extensive tour upon the European continent.
+
+When they returned, Mr. Montfort's reputation rose higher than ever,
+of course, and he made money with marvellous rapidity. He is now as
+well known in Wall Street as in his studio, has a town and country
+house, is a strong conservative in politics, and talks very learnedly
+about the moneyed interest. He has made some efforts to transplant
+his good old father and mother to New York; but they prefer residing
+at his villa, and taking care of his Durham cattle and Suffolk pigs,
+and seeing that his "Cochin Chinas" and "Brahma Pootras" do not
+trample down the children when they go out to feed the poultry of a
+summer morning.
+
+
+
+
+SOUVENIRS OF A RETIRED OYSTERMAN IN ILL HEALTH.
+
+
+Samivel, my boy, always stick to the shop; and if ever you become a
+_millionhair_, like me, never be seduced by any womankind into
+enterin' fash'nable society, and moving among the circles of _bong
+tong_. (I have been obligated to study French without a master; 'cause
+the Upper Ten always talks in bad French, and so a word or two will
+slip in onawares, even ven talking to a friend--just as a bad oyster
+will sometimes make its way into a good stew, spite of the best
+artist.)
+
+I envies you, Samivel. You don't know what a treat it is to me to be
+admitted confidentially behind the counter, and to find myself
+surrounded once more by these here congenial bivalves. I can't escape
+from old associations. Oysters stare me in the face wherever I go.
+They're fash'nable, Samivel, and it's about the only think in fash'n
+as I reg'larly likes.
+
+The other day we gave a _derjerner_, (that's French for brekfax,
+Samivel,) which took place about dinner time, and consisted of several
+distinguished pussons of the city, and three or four Hungry'uns as
+came over in the last steamer--reg'lar rang-a-tangs, vith these 'ere
+yaller anchovies growin' onto their upper lips. The old ooman, or
+madame, as she calls herself, was on hand to receive--but I was out of
+the way. She was mightily flustered, for she know'd I could talk a
+little Dutch, and she wanted me for to interpret with the Hungry'uns.
+
+So she speaks up werry sharp, (the old ooman can speak werry sharp by
+times,) and says to my youngest, a boy,--
+
+"Where on airth _can_ your father be?"
+
+"O, daddy's in the sink room," says the young 'un, "a openin'
+eyesters."
+
+The whole _derjerner_ bust into a hoss larff--for these Upper Ten
+folks, Samivel,--betwixt you and me and the pump, my boy,--ain't got
+no more manners than hogs. The child was voted an _ongfong
+terriblee_--but it wor a fack. I had went down into the sink room, as
+a mere looker-on in Veneer, and I seen one of my _employees_ a making
+such botchwork of openin', hagglin' up his hands, and misusin' the
+oysters, than I off coat, tucked up sleeves, and went to work, and
+rolled 'em off amazin'--I tell you. The past rushed back on me--the
+familiar feel of the knife almost banished my dyspepsy--I lived--I
+breathed--I vas a oysterman again. Did I ever show you them lines I
+wrote into my darter's album? No. Vell, then, 'ere goes:--
+
+    TO AN UNOPENED OYSTER.
+
+    Thou liest fair within thy shell;
+      Thy charms no mortal eye can see;
+    And so, as Lamprey[A] says, of old
+      Was Wenus lodged--the fairest she.
+
+    But beauties such as yourn and hern
+      Were never born unseen to waste;
+    Like her, you're bound to come to light,
+      To gratify refinement's taste.
+
+    The fairest of the female race
+      To Ilium vent vith Priam's boy;
+    So the best oysters that I see
+      Are sent by railroad off to Troy.
+
+    Sleep on--sleep on--nor dream of woe
+      Until the horrid deed be done--
+    Then out and die, like Simile,[B]
+      In thy first glance upon the sun.
+
+[Footnote A: Probably Lempriere.]
+
+[Footnote B: Semele (?)]
+
+Well, and 'ows bizness, Samivel? You've got a good stand, and you're
+bound to succeed. But beware of the Cracker-Fiend. I'll tell you about
+him.
+
+There vas a chap as used to _patronize_ me that vas one of the
+hungriest customers you ever did see. He was werry shabbily dressed,
+and he looked for all the world like the picturs I've seen of
+Shakspeare's "lean and hungry Cashier."
+
+He used to come in, give his order, (generally a stew,) and then go
+and set down in a box and drop the curting. It allers looks suspicious
+for a customer to drop his curting _afore_ you bring him the
+oysters--_arterwards_ it's all perfectly proper, in course. Afore the
+stew was ready, he would call out--
+
+"Waiter! crackers!"
+
+The boy would hand him a basket; but when his stew was set before him,
+there warn't no crackers in _his_ box.
+
+So ve put him on a allowance of a dozen crackers, which is werry
+liberal, considerin' as pickles and pepper-sarce is throw'd in gratis.
+But he used to step out quietly and snake baskets of crackers outen
+other boxes, so's the other customers, as alvays conducted themselves
+like perfick gen'lemen, vas all the time a singing out, "Waiter! plate
+of crackers."
+
+Then we kept a boy a-watching of him, so's to keep him in his box
+till he'd eat his oysters, and then you had to keep a werry sharp eye
+on him ven he was paying, and you vas a-makin' change, els't you'd hev
+all the crackers took off the counter.
+
+One day arter he vas gone, ve found all the crackers missin' from one
+side of the room. Of course, ve suspected he done it, but how he done
+it vas as much a puzzle as the Spinks.
+
+Next day, arter ve got him into his box, ve vatched and listened. Ve
+heard a queer kind of sound, like a man trying to play the jewsharp
+vith his boots; and, sir, ve detected the cracker-fiend a climbin'
+over the partitions into the neighborin' boxes, and a collarin' all
+the crackers he could come acrost.
+
+Perhaps you think I vent into him like a knife into a Prince's Bay.
+But I didn't do no such think. I treated him werry perlite, and gin
+him two dollars, a keg of crackers, and a jar of pickled oysters, on
+condition he'd go and patronize some other establishment. Keep an eye
+open for him, Samivel.
+
+Be generous, Samivel, but don't carry generosity to XS, for an
+antidote I'm about to relate, out of my pusnol experience, illustrates
+the evil effex of excessive philanthrophy.
+
+A little gal used to come into my shop to buy oysters. I seen she was
+some kind of a foreigner, so I set her down for Dutch--as them vas the
+only foreigners I vas acquainted vith at the time. I artervards
+discovered she was French. She was werry thin, and as pale as a
+soft-shelled clam; there was a dark blue color under her eyes, like
+these here muscle shells. At first, she used to buy ninepence worth of
+oysters. Arter a while it came down to fourpence; and one day she
+only vanted two cents vorth. I asked her who they vas for, and she
+said,--
+
+"For my grandfather; he is very sick, sare."
+
+I followed her, and found out where her grandfather lived. So one
+night I opened four gallons of prime New Yorkers, put 'em in a kettle,
+took a lot of crackers and soft bread, and started for the
+Frenchman's. The little gal came to the door, and showed me up stairs.
+The poor old customer was all alone, in bed, and yaller as a blanket.
+He start up ven he see us, and exclaimed,--
+
+_"Ah! mon Dieu! Antoinette, priez le gentilhomme de 'asseoir."_
+
+The leetle gal offered me a stool, but I didn't set down.
+
+"Mounseer," said I, in some French manufactured for the occasion, "I
+havey broughtee you sommey oysteries," and I showed him the kittle,
+with the kiver off.
+
+I thought his eyes kind of vatered at the sight, but he sighed, and
+turnin' to the leetle gal, said,--
+
+_"Antoinette, dites a Monsieur, que je n'ai plus d'argent--pas un
+sou."_
+
+I guessed it was something about money, so afore the leetle gal could
+translate it, I sang out,--
+
+"I don't want no money, Mounseer; these here are free gratis, for
+nothin' at all. I always treats my customers once in a while."
+
+That was a lie, Samivel--but never mind, I gin him a dozen, and the
+old fellur seemed to like 'em fust rate. Then I offered him some more,
+but he hung back. However I made him swallow 'em, and offered some to
+the leetle gal.
+
+"After grandpapa," said she.
+
+So I offered him some more.
+
+"No more, I zank you; I 'ave eat too moosh."
+
+I know'd he was only sogerin' out of delixy. So I says as perlite as
+possible,--
+
+"None of that, old fellur--catch hold. I fetched 'em for you, and I'm
+bound to see you eat 'em."
+
+"Sare, you are _too_ kind," said he; and he vent to vork again. Arter
+a spell, he stopped.
+
+"Don't like 'em--hey?" says I, pretendin' to be mad.
+
+"I sall prove ze contraire," said he, in a kind of die-away manner,
+and he went into 'em agin.
+
+Presently, he gin over, and fell back on his piller murmurin'--
+
+"Sare, you are too good."
+
+I gin the balance to the leetle gal, and told her to come round in the
+mornin', and I'd fill her kittle for her, adding that her grandfather
+would be all straight in the mornin'.
+
+Samivel! he _vas_ all straight in the morning, but just as stiff as a
+cold poker. The last two or three dozen finished him; his digestion
+wasn't strong enough for 'em, and he know'd it, but he eat himself to
+death out of politeness. The French are certingly the perlitest people
+on the face of the yairth.
+
+Howsever, I see him buried decently, and I adopted the leetle gal. She
+was well brung up and educated, and she larned my darters French--the
+real Simon Pure--for she was a Canadian, and her grandfather came from
+Gascony. But his fate vos a orful lesson. Benevolence, like an
+oyster-roast, is good for nothink if it's over done. And now, Samivel,
+my boy, _a-jew_, for I have a _sworray_ this evenin', and receive half
+Beacon Street. _A-jew._
+
+
+
+
+THE NEW YEAR'S STOCKINGS.
+
+
+"Never crosses his t's, nor dots his i's, and his n's and v's and r's
+are all alike!" said, almost despairingly, Mr. Simon Quillpen, the
+painstaking clerk of old Lawyer Latitat, as he sat late at night, on
+the last day of the year, digging away at the copy of a legal document
+his liberal patron and employer had placed in his hands in the early
+part of the evening. "Thank Heaven!" he added, laying down his pen,
+and consulting a huge silver bull's eye which he pulled from a
+threadbare fob, "I shall soon get through this job, and then, hey for
+roast potatoes and the charming society of Mrs. Q.!" And with this
+consolatory reflection, he resumed his work with redoubled energy.
+
+Mr. Quillpen was a little man; not so very little as to pass for a
+phenomenon, but certainly too small to be noticed by a recruiting
+grenadier sergeant. His nose was quite sharp and gave his mild, thin
+countenance, particularly as he carried his head a little on one side,
+a very bird-like air. He trod, too, gingerly and lightly, very like a
+sparrow or a tomtit; and, to complete the analogy, his head being
+almost always surmounted by a pen, he had a sort of crested,
+blue-jayish aspect, that was rather comical. Quillpen had a very
+little wife and three very little children, Bob, Chiffy, and the baby;
+the last the ultimate specimen of the _diminuendo_. It was well for
+them that they were so small, for Quillpen obtained his _starvelihood_
+by driving the quill for Mr. Latitat at four hundred dollars a year,
+to which Mrs. Quillpen added, from time to time, certain little sums
+derived from making shirts and overalls at the rate of about ten cents
+the million stitches.
+
+Whether Mr. Latitat was able to pay more was a question that never
+entered the minute brain of Simon Quillpen; for he had so humble an
+opinion of his own merits, and was always so contented and cheerful,
+that he regarded his salary as enormous, and was wont playfully to
+sign little confidential notes Croesus Quillpen and Girard Quillpen,
+and on rare convivial occasions would sometimes style himself Baron
+Rothschild. But this last title was very rarely indulged in, because
+it once sent his particular crony, a chuckle-headed clerk in the
+post-office, into a cachinnatory fit which was "rayther in the
+apoplectic line."
+
+"To return to our muttons." Simon dug away at his copying with an
+occasional reverential glance at a certain low oaken door, opening
+into the _penetralia_ of this abode of law and righteousness, behind
+which oaken door, at that very moment, sat Mr. Lucius Latitat, either
+deeply engaged in the solution of some vast legal problem, or
+calculating the interest on an outstanding note, or consulting with
+chuckling delight a list of mortgages to be foreclosed.
+
+Well--Quillpen finished his document, wiped his pen on a thick velvet
+butterfly, laid it in the rack above the ink, pushed back his chair
+from the table, withdrew the cambric sleeve from his right arm, and
+smoothed down his wristbands, having first put on his India rubber
+overshoes. The fact is, he was very anxious to get home, and he could
+not go without first seeing Mr. Latitat. The idea of knocking at Mr.
+Latitat's door on business of his own never once occurred to him. He
+would do that for a client, but not for himself. So he ventured on a
+series of low coughs, and finding no notice was taken of them, he
+dropped the poker into the coalhod, the most daring act he had ever
+perpetrated. The slight noise thus produced crashed on his guilty ears
+like thunder, or rather with the roar of a universal earthquake.
+Slight, however, as it was, it brought out Mr. Latitat from his
+interior.
+
+"What the deuse are you making such a racket for?" he exclaimed in
+tones that thrilled to the heart of his employee; then, without
+waiting for an answer, he slightly glanced at the table, and asked,
+"Have you got through that job?"
+
+"Yes'm--I mean, yes'r" replied the quivering Simon.
+
+"Well, then, you can go. I'm going myself. You blow out the lights and
+lock the room. And mind and be here early to-morrow morning. Nothing
+like beginning the New Year well. Good night."
+
+"Mr. Latitat, sir!" cried Quillpen, with desperate resolution, as he
+saw the great man about to disappear--"please, sir--could you let me
+have a little money to-night?"
+
+"Why! what do you want of money?" retorted the lawyer. "O! I 'spose
+you have a host of unpaid bills."
+
+"No, sir; no, sir; that's not it," Simon hastened to say. "I hain't
+got narry bill standing. I pay as I go. Cash takes the lot!"
+
+"None of your coarse, vulgar slang to me!" said Latitat. "Reserve it
+for your loose companions. If not to pay bills, what for?"
+
+"Please, sir,--we, that is Mrs. Q. and myself, want to put something
+in the children's stockings, sir."
+
+"Then put the children's legs in 'em!" said the lawyer with a grin. "I
+make no payments to be used for any such ridiculous purposes. Good
+night. Yet stay--take this letter--there's money in it--a large
+amount--put it in the post-office with your own hands as you go
+home."
+
+"And you can't let me have a trifle?" gasped Simon.
+
+"Not a cent!" snarled the lawyer; and he slammed the door behind him,
+and went heavily down the stairs.
+
+"I wonder how it feels to punch a man's head," said Simon, as he stood
+rooted to the spot where Mr. Latitat left him. "It's illegal--it's
+actionable--there are fines and penalties provided by the statute: but it
+seems as if there were cases that might justify the operation--morally. But
+then, again--what good would it do to punch his head? Punching his head
+wouldn't get me money--and if I was to try it, on finding that the licks
+didn't bring out the cash, I might be tempted to help myself to the cash,
+and that would be highway robbery; and when the punchee ventured to suggest
+that, the puncher might be tempted to silence him. O Lord! that's the way
+these murders in the first degree happen; and I think that I was almost on
+the point of taking the first step. I really think I look a little like
+Babe the pirate," added the poor man, glancing at his mild but disturbed
+features in the glass; "or like Captain Kidd, or leastways like Country
+McClusky--a regular bruiser!"
+
+Sitting down before the grate, and stirring it feebly with the poker,
+he tried to devise some feasible plan for supplying the vacuum in his
+treasury. He might borrow, but then all his friends were very poor,
+and particularly hard up--at this particular season of the year. The
+bull's eye watch might have been "spouted," if he had foreseen this
+contingency; but every avuncular relative was now at this hour of the
+night snug abed to a dead certainty. Purchasing on credit was not to
+be thought of, and the only toy shop which kept open late enough for
+his purchases, was kept by a man to whom he was totally unknown. Time
+galloped on, meanwhile, and the half-hour struck.
+
+"I'll slip that letter in the post-office, and then go home," said
+Simon sorrowfully, rising as he spoke, and grasping his inseparable
+umbrella.
+
+"Hallo! shipmate! where-away?" cried a hoarse voice. And Mr. Quillpen
+became aware of the presence of an "ancient mariner," enveloped in a
+very rough dreadnought, and finished off with a large amount of
+whiskers and tarpaulin.
+
+"I was going home, sir," replied Simon, with the deferential air of a
+very little to a very big man.
+
+"Ay--going to clap on hatches and deadlights. Well, tell me one
+thing--where-away may one find one Mr. Latitat--a shore-going cove, a
+regular land-shark, d'ye see?"
+
+"This is Mr. Latitat's office, sir," said Simon.
+
+"Ay--and is he within hail?"
+
+"No, sir, he has gone home."
+
+"Slipped his cable--hey? just my luck! Well, one might snooze
+comfortably on this here table--mightn't he? You can clear out, and
+I'll take care of the shop till morning."
+
+"That would be perfectly inadmissible, sir," said Simon, "the idea of
+a stranger's sleeping here!"
+
+"A stranger!" cried the sailor. "Why, shipmate, do you happen to know
+who I am? Look at me! Don't you find somewhat of a family likeness to
+Lucius in my old weather-beaten mug? Why, man-alive, I'm his
+brother,--his own blood brother! You must a heard him speak of me.
+Been cruising round the world in chase of Fortune, but could never
+overhaul her. Been sick, shipwrecked, and now come back as poor as I
+went. But Lucius has got enough for both of us. How glad he'll be to
+see me to-morrow, hey, old Ink-and-tape?"
+
+Simon had his doubts about that matter, but told the sailor to come in
+the morning, and see.
+
+"That I will," said the tar, "and start him up with a rousing Happy
+New Year! But I say, shipmate, I don't want to sleep in the
+watch-house. Have you never a shilling about your trousers?"
+
+Simon answered that he hadn't a cent.
+
+"Why, don't that brother of mine give you good wages?"
+
+"Enormous!" said Simon.
+
+"What becomes of it all?"
+
+"I spend it all--I'm very extravagant," said Simon, shaking his head.
+"And then, I'm sorry to say, your brother isn't always punctual in his
+payments. To-night, for instance, I couldn't get a cent from him."
+
+"Then I tell you what I'd do, shipmate," said the sailor,
+confidentially. "I'd overhaul some of his letters. Steam will loosen a
+wafer, and a hot knife-blade, wax. I'd overhaul his money-letters and
+pay myself. Ha! ha! do you take? Now, that letter you've got in your
+fin, my boy, looks woundy like a dokiment chock full of shinplasters.
+What do you say to making prize of 'em? wouldn't it be a jolly go?"
+
+"Stand off!" said Simon, assuming a heavy round ruler and a commanding
+attitude. "Don't you come anigh me, or there'll be a case of
+justifiable homicide here. How dare you counsel me to commit a robbery
+on your own brother? I wonder you ain't ashamed to look me in the
+face."
+
+"A chap as has cruised as many years as I have in the low latitudes
+ain't afraid to look any body in the face," answered the "ancient
+mariner," grimly. "I made you a fair offer, shipmate, and you
+rejected it like a long-shore jackass as you are. Good night to ye."
+
+Much to his relief, the sailor took himself off, and Simon, after
+locking and double locking his door, went to the post-office and
+deposited the letter with which he had been intrusted. As he lived a
+great way up on the Neck, he did not reach home until after all the
+clocks of the city had struck twelve, so that he was able to surprise
+his little wife, who was sitting up for him, with a "Happy New Year!"
+
+He cast a rueful eye at the line of stockings hung along the
+mantel-piece in the sitting room, and then sorrowfully announced to
+his wife his failure to obtain money of Mr. Latitat.
+
+"There'll be nothing for the stockings, Meg," said he, "unless what
+the poor children put in ours."
+
+"I am very sorry," said his wife, who bore the announcement much
+better than he anticipated; "but we'll have a happy New Year for all
+that."
+
+Simon's roasted potatoes were completely charred, he had been detained
+so late; but there was a little meal in the centre of each, and
+charcoal is not at all unhealthy. He went to bed, and in spite of his
+cares, slept the sleep of the just.
+
+A confused babbling awoke him at daylight. Master Bobby was standing
+on his stomach, Miss Chiffy was seated nearly on his head, and baby
+was crowing in its cradle. Happy New Years and kisses were exchanged.
+"O, dear papa and mamma!" cried Bobby, "what a beautiful horse I found
+in my stocking!"
+
+"And what a beautiful wax doll, with eyes that move, in mine," said
+Chiffy,--"and such a splendid rattle and coral in baby's. Now, pray go
+down and see what there is in yours."
+
+"This is some of your work, little woman," whispered Simon to his
+wife. But the little woman denied it emphatically. Much mystified, he
+hurried down to the breakfast room. The children had made the usual
+offering of very hard and highly-colored sugar plums; but in each of
+the two large stockings, stowed away at the bottom, was a roll of bank
+notes, five hundred dollars in each.
+
+"Somebody wants to ruin us!" cried Simon, bursting into tears. "This
+is stolen money, and they want to lay it on to us."
+
+"All I know about it," said Mrs. Quillpen, "is, that last night, just
+before you came home, a sailor man came here with all these things,
+and said they were for us, and made me promise to put them in the
+stockings, as he directed, and say nothing about his visit to you."
+
+"A sailor!" cried Simon--"I have it! I think I know who it is. Good
+by--I'll be back to breakfast directly."
+
+Simon ran to the office, and found, as he anticipated, Mr. Latitat
+there before him.
+
+"A happy New Year to you, sir," said he. "Have you seen your brother?"
+
+"I have not," replied Mr. Latitat.
+
+Simon then told him all that happened on the preceding night; the
+apparition of the sailor,--the temptation,--the money found in the
+stockings, in proof of which he showed the thousand dollars, and
+stating his fears that they had been stolen, offered to deposit the
+sum in his employer's hands.
+
+"Keep 'em, shipmate; they were meant for you!" exclaimed Mr. Latitat,
+suddenly and queerly, assuming the very voice and look of the nautical
+brother of the preceding evening.
+
+While Simon stared his eyes out of his head, Mr. Latitat informed him
+that he had no brother--that he had disguised himself for the purpose
+of putting his clerk's long-tried fidelity to a final test, and, that
+sustained triumphantly, had rewarded him in the manner we have seen.
+He told how, disgusted in early life by the treachery and ingratitude
+of friends and relations who had combined to ruin him, he had become a
+misanthrope and miser; how the spectacle of Simon's disinterested
+fidelity, rigid sense of honor, self-denial and cheerfulness, had won
+back his better nature; and he wound off, as he shook Quillpen warmly
+by the hand, by announcing that he had raised his salary to twelve
+hundred dollars per annum.
+
+The good news almost killed Simon. "Please your honor," said he,
+endeavoring to frame an appropriate reply,--"no--that ain't it--please
+your excellency--you've gone and done it--you've gone and done it! I
+was Baron Rothschild before, and now--no--I can't tell what I am--it
+isn't in no biographical dictionary, and I don't believe it's in the
+'Wealth of Nations!'"
+
+"Well, never mind," said Latitat, laughing, "go home and tell Mrs. Q.
+the office won't be open till to-morrow, and that I shall depend on
+dining with you all to-day."
+
+
+
+
+THE OBLIGING YOUNG MAN.
+
+
+"Cars ready for Boston and way stations!" shouted the conductor of a
+railroad train, as the steamhorse, harnessed for his twenty mile trip,
+stood chafing, snorting, and coughing, throwing up angry puffs of
+mingled gray and dingy vapor from his sturdy lungs. "Cars ready for
+Boston and way stations!"
+
+"O, yes!" replied a brisk young man, with a bright eye, peculiar
+smirk, spotted neckcloth, and gray gaiters with pearl buttons. "Cars
+ready for Boston and way stations. All aboard. Now's your time--quick,
+or you'll lose 'em. Now then, ma'am."
+
+"But, sir," remonstrated the old lady he addressed, and whom he was
+urging at the steps of a first class car.
+
+"O, never mind!" replied the brisk young man. "Know what you're going
+to say--too much trouble--none whatever, I assure you. Perfect
+stranger, true--but scriptural injunction, do as you'd be done by. In
+with you--ding! ding!--there's the bell--off we go."
+
+And so in fact they did go off at forty miles an hour.
+
+"But, sir," said the old lady, trembling violently.
+
+"I see," interrupted the OBLIGING YOUNG MAN; "want a
+seat--here it is--a great bargain--cars full--quick, or you'll lose
+it."
+
+"But, sir," said the old lady, with nervous trepidation, "I--I--wasn't
+going to Boston."
+
+"The deuce you weren't. Well, well, well, why couldn't you say so?
+Hullo! Conductor! Stop the cars!"
+
+"Can't do it," replied the conductor. "This train don't stop short of
+Woburn watering station."
+
+"Woburn watering station!" whimpered the old woman, wringing her
+hands. "O, what shall I do?"
+
+"Sit still; take it easy--no use crying for spilt milk; what can't be
+cured must be endured. I'll look out sharp; you might have saved
+yourself all this trouble."
+
+Away went the cars, racketting and oscillating, while the obliging
+young man was looking round for another recipient of his good
+services.
+
+"Ha!" he muttered to himself. "There's a poor young fellow quite
+alone. Lovesick, perhaps; pale cheek--sunken eye--never told his love;
+but let--Shakspeare--I'm his man! Must look out for the old woman.
+Here we are, ma'am, fifteen miles to Lowell--out with you--look out
+for the cars on the back track. Good by--pleasant trip!"
+
+Ding dong, went the bell again.
+
+"Hullo! here's her bundle! Catch, there--heads! All right--get on,
+driver!"
+
+And having tossed a bundle after the old woman, he resumed his seat.
+
+"Confound it!" roared a fat man in a blue spencer. "You're treading on
+my corns."
+
+"Beg pardon," said the obliging young man. "Bad things,
+corns,--'trifling sum of misery new added to the foot of your
+account;' old author--name forgotten. Never mind--drive on!"
+
+"But where's my bundle?" asked the fat man. "Conductor! Where's my
+bundle? Brown paper--red string. Saw it here a moment since."
+
+The conductor knew nothing about it. The obliging young man did. It
+was the same he had thrown out after the old woman.
+
+"You'll find it some where," he said, with a consolatory wink. "Can't
+lose a brown paper bundle. I've tried--often--always turned up; little
+boy sure to bring it. 'Here's your bundle, sir; ninepence, please.'
+All right--go ahead!"
+
+Here the obliging young man took his seat beside the pale-faced youth.
+
+"Ill health, sir?"
+
+"No, sir," replied the pale-faced youth, fidgeting.
+
+"Mental malady--eh?"
+
+The young man sighed.
+
+"See it all. Don't say a word, man! Cupid, heart from heart, forced to
+part. Flinty-hearted father?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Flinty-hearted mother?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Flinty-hearted aunt?"
+
+The lovesick young man sighed, and nodded assent.
+
+"Tell me the story. I'm a stranger--but my heart is here, sir."
+Whereupon the obliging young man referred to a watch pocket in his
+plaid vest, and nodded with a great deal of intelligence. "Tell me
+all--like to serve my fellows--no other occupation; out with it, as
+the doctor said to the little boy that swallowed his sister's
+necklace."
+
+The lovesick youth informed the obliging young man that he loved and
+was beloved by a young lady of Boston, whose aunt, acting as her
+guardian, opposed his suit. He was going to Boston to put a plan of
+elopement into operation. He had prepared two letters, one to the aunt
+renouncing his hopes, to throw her off her guard; the other to the
+young lady, appointing a meeting at the Providence cars. The
+difficulty was to get the letters delivered. This the obliging young
+man readily undertook to do in person. Both the aunt and niece bore
+the same name--Emeline Brown; but the aunt's letter was sealed with
+black, the niece's with red wax. The letters were delivered with many
+injunctions to the obliging young man, and the two new-made friends
+parted on the arrival of the cars in Boston.
+
+The Providence cars were just getting ready to start, when, amid all
+the bustle and confusion, a pale-faced young man "might have been
+seen," as Mr. James, the novelist, says, nervously pacing to and fro,
+and occasionally darting into Pleasant Street, and scrutinizing every
+approaching passenger and vehicle. At last, when there was but a
+single moment to spare, a hack drove up furiously, and a veiled lady
+hastily descended, and gave her hand to her expectant admirer.
+
+"Quick, Emeline, or we shall lose the train!"
+
+The enamoured couple were soon seated beside each other, and whirling
+away to Providence. The lady said little, but sat with downcast head
+and veiled face, apparently overwhelmed with confusion at the step she
+had taken. But it was enough for young Dovekin to know she was beside
+him, and he poured forth an unbroken stream of delicious nonsense,
+till the train arrived at its destination.
+
+In the station house the lady lifted her veil. Horror and confusion!
+It was the aunt! The obliging young man had delivered the wrong
+letter.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Miss Brown, "I am the person whom you qualified, in
+your letter intended for my niece, as a 'hateful hag, in whose eyes
+you were throwing dust'. What do you say to that, sir?"
+
+"Say!" replied the disconsolate Dovekin. "It's no use to say any
+thing; for it is my settled purpose to spring over the parapet of the
+railroad bridge and seek oblivion in a watery grave. But first, if I
+could find that obliging young man, I'd be the death of him."
+
+"No you wouldn't," said the voice of that interesting individual, as
+he made his appearance with a lady on his arm. "Here she is--take
+her--be happy. After I'd given the notes, mind misgave me--went back
+to the house--found the aunt gone--niece in tears--followed
+after--same train--last car--here she is!"
+
+"I hope this will be a lesson," said Dovekin.
+
+"So it is. Henceforth, I shall mind my own business; for every thing
+I've undertaken lately, on other folks' account, has gone amiss. Come,
+aunty, give your blessing--let 'em go. Train ready--I'm off--best of
+wishes--good by. Cars ready for Boston and way stations!--all aboard."
+
+The aunt gave her blessing; and this was the last that any of the
+party saw of the _Obliging Young Man_.
+
+
+
+
+EULALIE LASALLE.
+
+A STORY OF THE REIGN OF TERROR.
+
+    O, what was love made for if 'twas not for this,
+    The same amidst sorrow, and transport, and bliss?
+
+                                                 MOORE.
+
+
+The fanaticism of the French revolutionists had reached its height;
+the excitable population, intoxicated with power, and maddened by the
+vague dread of the retribution of despair, goaded on by profligate,
+ferocious, or insane leaders, was plunging into the most revolting and
+sanguinary excesses. The son of St. Louis had ascended to heaven, the
+beautiful and unfortunate Marie Antoinette had laid her head upon the
+block, the baby heir of the throne of the Capets was languishing in
+the hands of his keepers, and the Girondists, the true friends of
+republican liberty, were silenced by exile or the scaffold. In short,
+the Reign of Terror, the memorable sway of Robespierre, hung like a
+funeral pall upon the land which was fast becoming a vast cemetery.
+The provincial towns, faithful echoes of the central capital, were
+repeating the theme of horror with a thousand variations. Each
+considerable city had its guillotine, and where that instrument of
+punishment was wanting, the fusillade or the mitraille supplied its
+place.
+
+At this crisis, Eugene Beauvallon, a young merchant of Toulouse,
+presented himself one morning in the drawing room of Mademoiselle
+Eulalie Lasalle, an orphan girl of great beauty and accomplishment, to
+whom he had long been betrothed, and whom he would ere this have
+married but for the political troubles of the period. Eulalie was a
+graceful creature, slenderly and symmetrically formed, with soft blue
+eyes, and an exceedingly gentle expression, which was indicative of
+her character. She seemed too fair and fragile to buffet with the
+storms of life, and ill fitted to endure its troubles, created to be
+the idol of a drawing room, the fairy queen of a boudoir.
+
+Eugene was a handsome, manly fellow, of great energy and character.
+The revolution surprised him in the act of making a fortune; the
+whirlwind had stripped him of most of his property, but had yet left
+him liberty and life. He had contrived to avoid rendering himself
+obnoxious to the sansculottes without securing their confidence. The
+tri-colored cockade which he wore in his hat shielded him from the
+fatal epithet of aristocrat--a certain passport to the guillotine.
+
+Beauvallon then seated himself beside Eulalie, who was struck with the
+radiant expression of his countenance, and begged to know the reason
+of his joyous excitement.
+
+"I have good news to tell you," he said, gayly; "but we are not
+alone," he added, stopping short, as his eyes rested on the sinister
+face of an old woman, humbly attired, who was busily engaged in
+knitting, not far from the lovers.
+
+"O, don't mind poor old Mannette," said Eulalie. "The poor old
+creature is past hearing thunder. It is a woman, Eugene, I rescued
+from absolute starvation, and she is so grateful, and seems so
+desirous of doing something to render herself useful, that I am
+mortified almost at her sense of the obligation."
+
+"I hope she has not supplanted your pretty _femme de chambre_, Julie,
+of whom you threatened to be jealous. My admiration, I hope, has not
+cost the girl her place."
+
+"O, dear, no! I couldn't part with Julie!" replied Eulalie, laughing
+gayly. "But come, you must not tantalize me--what has occurred to make
+you so gay, at a time when every true Frenchman wears a face of
+mourning?"
+
+"The Marquis de Montmorenci is at liberty."
+
+"At liberty? How happened it that the Revolutionary Tribunal acquitted
+him?"
+
+"Acquitted him! Eulalie, does the tiger that has once tasted the blood
+of his prey permit him to escape? Is Robespierre more lenient than the
+beast of prey? No, Eulalie, he escaped by the aid of a true friend. He
+fled from Paris, reached Toulouse, and found shelter under my roof!"
+
+The cheek of Eulalie turned ashy pale. "Under your roof!" she
+faltered. "Do you know the penalty of sheltering a fugitive from
+justice?"
+
+"It is death upon the scaffold," answered the young merchant, calmly.
+"But better that a thousand times than the sin of ingratitude; the sin
+of turning a deaf ear to the claims of humanity."
+
+"My own noble Eugene!" exclaimed the young girl, enthusiastically,
+pressing her lover's hand. "Every day increases my love, my respect
+for you, and my sense of my own unworthiness. But you will never have
+to blush for the inferiority of your wife."
+
+"What do you mean, dearest?" inquired Eugene, with alarm.
+
+"This is no time for marriage," said Eulalie, sadly. "Images of death
+and violence meet our eyes whichever way they turn. We were born,
+Eugene, in melancholy times, and our loves are misplaced. We shall
+meet hereafter; on this earth, I fear, our destinies will never be
+united."
+
+"Prophetess of evil!" said Beauvallon, gayly. "Your rosy lips belie
+your gloomy augury. No, Eulalie, this dark cloud cannot forever
+overshadow the land--even now I think I can see glimpses of the blue
+sky. _Le bon temps viendra_,--the good time is coming,--and then,
+Eulalie, be sure that I will claim your promised hand."
+
+The conversation of the lovers had been so animated and interesting
+that they did not notice the moment when old Mannette had glided like
+a spectre from the apartment.
+
+Beauvallon lingered a while,--"parting is such sweet sorrow,"--and
+finally reluctantly tore himself from the presence of Eulalie,
+promising to see her again on the ensuing day, and let her know
+whatever had transpired in the interim.
+
+As he approached the street in which his store and house were
+situated, he heard the confused murmur of a multitude, and soon
+perceived, on turning the corner, that a very large crowd was
+collected outside his door. There were men and women--many of the
+former armed with pikes and sabres--the latter, the refuse of the
+populace, who appeared like birds of evil omen at every scene of
+violence and tumult.
+
+A hundred voices called out his name as he approached, and menacing
+gestures were addressed to him by the multitude.
+
+"Citizens," said the merchant, "what is the meaning of all this?"
+
+"You shall know, traitor," shrieked a palsied hag of eighty, whose
+lurid eyes had already gloated on every public execution that had
+taken place in Toulouse. "Here is Citizen Dumart of the revolutionary
+committee--ah, _he_ is a true friend of the people--he is no
+aristocrat in disguise! _Vive le Citoyen Dumart!_"
+
+"Long live Citizen Dumart! Down with the aristocrats!" shouted a
+hundred voices.
+
+The Citizen Dumart was a sallow-faced man, dressed in rusty black,
+wearing an enormous tri-colored cockade in his three-cornered hat,
+with a sash of the same color girt around his waist. His bloodshot
+eyes expressed a mixture of cowardice with ferocity. He was flanked by
+a couple of pikemen as hideous as the Afrites of Eastern romance.
+
+"Citizen Beauvallon," said he, in a voice whose tremor betrayed his
+native timidity, "I arrest you in the name of the revolutionary
+committee of Toulouse. Citizen Beauvallon, it is useless to resist the
+authority of the representatives of the people; if you have any
+concealed weapons about you, I advise you to surrender them. You see I
+stand here protected by the arms of the people."
+
+"I have no weapons," replied Beauvallon. "I have no sinister designs.
+I know not why I am arrested. Acquaint me with the charge, and
+confront me with my accusers."
+
+"Seize upon the prisoner!" cried Dumart to his satellites. And he
+breathed freer when he saw the merchant in the gripe of two muscular
+ruffians, whose iron hands compressed his wrists as if they were
+manacles.
+
+"Away with him!" screamed the hag who had spoken before. "Away with
+him to the revolutionary committee! Down with the aristocrats!"
+
+Followed by the imprecations of the crowd, Beauvallon was conducted to
+the town house, and in a very few moments was placed at the bar of the
+revolutionary committee--a body invested with the power of life and
+death. On his way thither he had found means to speak a word to an
+acquaintance in the crowd, and to beg him to inform Eulalie of what
+had happened.
+
+So soon as he had heard the accusation read, and knew that he was
+charged with the crime of aiding the Marquis de Montmorenci, a
+fugitive from justice, he felt that his situation was indeed critical;
+but mingled with his astonishment and dread was a curiosity to learn
+whence his denunciation could have proceeded--who could have lodged
+the information against him. He was not long kept in suspense, for the
+witness brought on the stand to confront him was no other than
+Mannette, the supposed deaf servant of Eulalie Lasalle, who had
+overheard his confession of the morning, and hastened to denounce him.
+Though his sentence was not immediately pronounced, and the decision
+of his case was deferred till the next day, Beauvallon felt that his
+doom was sealed.
+
+He was conveyed to a house in the vicinity of the town hall for
+confinement, as the prisons were all overstocked. His jailer was a man
+whom the merchant had formerly befriended, and whose heart was not
+inaccessible to emotions of pity, though he was above bribery, and
+evidently determined to execute his duty to the letter.
+
+"I have a favor to ask of you, my friend," said the prisoner, slipping
+a golden louis into his hand.
+
+"If it is one that I can grant without violating my duty," replied the
+jailer, returning the money to Beauvallon, "I will do so for the sake
+of old times, but not for gold."
+
+Beauvallon explained that he wished to send a note to Mlle. Lasalle,
+requesting her to visit him in prison--an interview which would
+probably be their last, and the jailer undertook readily to see the
+missive delivered, and to permit the visit. The note having been
+despatched, Beauvallon sat down to wait for the arrival of his
+mistress.
+
+The sad hours passed away,--but though he learned from the jailer that
+his errand had been performed, no Eulalie made her appearance.
+
+"She forsakes me!" he muttered bitterly. "The wounded deer is
+abandoned by the herd, and an unfortunate man is shunned by his
+fellows. Well, the dream was pleasant while it lasted--the regret of
+awakening can scarce be tedious--a few hours, and all the incidents of
+this transitory life will be forgotten. But Eulalie--whom I loved
+better than my life itself--it is hard to die without one word from
+thee."
+
+When on the following day Beauvallon was again taken before the
+revolutionary committee, he looked anxiously around the court room to
+see if he could discover the face of Eulalie among the spectators,
+many of whom were women. But he was disappointed. Her absence
+convinced him that she had abandoned him, and wholly absorbed by this
+reflection, he paid no attention to the formula of his trial. He was
+condemned to death, the sentence to be executed on the following day.
+
+"Mr. President," said he, rising, "I thank you, and I have merely one
+favor to ask. Anticipate the time of punishment--let it be to-day
+instead of to-morrow--let me go hence to the scaffold."
+
+"Your request is reasonable," replied the president, in a bland voice,
+"and if circumstances permitted, it would afford me the greatest
+pleasure to grant it. But the guillotine requires repair, and will not
+be in a condition to perform its functions until to-morrow, at which
+time, Citizen Beauvallon, at the hour of ten, A.M., you will have
+ceased to exist. Good night, and pleasant dreams!"
+
+This sally was received with roars of applause, and the unhappy
+prisoner was reconducted to the place of confinement.
+
+That night was a sleepless one. Beauvallon's arrest, his speedy trial
+and condemnation, the desertion of Eulalie, had followed each other
+with such stunning rapidity, that, until now, he had hardly time to
+reflect upon the dismal chain of circumstances--now they pressed upon
+his attention, and crowded his mind to overflowing. At midnight, as he
+lay tossing on his bed, upon which he had thrown himself without
+undressing, he thought he heard a confused noise in the apartment of
+the next house adjoining his. The noise increased. He placed his hand
+upon the wall, and felt it jar under successive shocks. Suddenly a
+current of air blew in upon him, and at the same time a faint ray of
+light streamed through an opening in the partition.
+
+"Courage!" said a soft voice. "The opening enlarges. Now, Julie!"
+
+Julie! Beauvallon was sure he heard the name, and yet uncertain
+whether or not he was dreaming.
+
+"Julie!" he exclaimed, cautiously.
+
+"Yes, monsieur--it is Julie--sure enough," answered a pleasant voice.
+
+"Then you, at least, have not forgotten me."
+
+"No one who has once known you can ever forget you. Courage! you will
+soon be free. Aid us if you can."
+
+"Then you are not alone?"
+
+"Have patience, and you will see."
+
+His own exertions, added to those of his friends without, soon enabled
+the prisoner to force his way into the next house; but there
+disappointment awaited him. Two soldiers in the uniform of the
+_gensdarmerie_ stood before him.
+
+"_On ne passe par ici_,--you can't pass here,"--said one.
+
+"What cruel mockery is this?" cried Beauvallon. "Is it not enough that
+I am condemned to death, but you must subject me to an atrocious
+pleasantry? This is refinement of cruelty."
+
+"It seems that our disguise is perfect, Julie," said the soldier who
+had not yet spoken. "Eugene does not know his best friends."
+
+In an instant the speaker was folded in the arms of Beauvallon. It was
+Eulalie herself, as bewitchingly beautiful in her uniform as in the
+habiliments of her sex. She hurriedly explained that the moment she
+heard of Eugene's arrest, she prepared to meet the worst contingency.
+She had already converted her money into cash. Learning the place of
+his imprisonment, she had hired, through the agency of another person,
+the adjoining house, which happened to be unoccupied. The task of
+making an aperture in the partition was an easy one--the difficulty of
+passing through the city was greater. The idea of military disguises
+then occurred. Julie and herself had already equipped themselves, and
+they were provided with a uniform for Beauvallon.
+
+Secured by this costume, the three fugitives ventured forth. In the
+great square of the city, workmen were busily employed in repairing
+the hideous engine of death, and Beauvallon passed, not without a
+shudder, beneath the very shadow of the guillotine, to which he had
+been doomed.
+
+Seated on the cold ground, beneath the fatal apparatus, was an old
+woman muttering to herself.
+
+"Good evening, citizens," said she. "We shall have a fine day for the
+show to-morrow. Look how the bonny stars are winking and blinking on
+the gay knife blade they've been sharpening. It will be darker and
+redder when the clock strikes ten again. Down with the aristocrats!"
+
+The fugitives needed no more to quicken their steps. They reached the
+frontiers in safety, and beyond the Rhine, in the hospitable land of
+Germany, the lovers were united; nor did they return to France till
+the star of Robespierre had set in blood, and the master mind of
+Napoleon had placed its impress on the destinies of France.
+
+
+
+
+THE OLD CITY PUMP.
+
+
+Many evenings since, we were passing up State Street late at night.
+State Street at midnight is a very different affair from State Street
+at high noon. The shadows of the tall buildings fall on a deserted
+thoroughfare; save where, here and there, a spectral bank watchman
+keeps ward over the granite sepulchres of golden eagles, and the
+flimsier representatives of wealth. The bulls and bears have retired
+to their dens, and East India merchants are invisible. Newsboys are
+nowhere, and every sound has died away. There stands the Old State
+House, peculiar and picturesque, rising with a look of other days, a
+relic of past time, against the deep blue sky, or webbing the full
+moon with the delicate tracery of its slender spars and signal
+halliards. And there stands--no! there stood the old Town Pump. But it
+is no more--_Ilium fuit_ was written on its forehead--it has been
+reformed out of office, its occupation has gone, its handle has been
+amputated, its body has been dissected, and there is nothing of it
+left.
+
+Yet on the evening to which we alluded in the beginning, the old pump
+was there, and crossing over from the Merchants Bank, we leaned
+against its handle, as one leans against the arm of an old friend, in
+a musing, idle mood. Presently we heard a gurgling sound and confused
+murmurs issuing from its lips--"like airy tongues that syllable men's
+names." Anon these murmurs shaped themselves into distinct
+articulations, and as we listened, wonderingly, the old pump spoke:--
+
+"Past twelve o'clock, and a moonlight night. All well, as I'm a pump.
+Nobody breaking into banks, and nobody kicking up rows--watchmen fast
+asleep, and every body quiet. But I can't sleep. No! the city
+government has murdered sleep! There's something heavy on my buckets,
+and I fear me, I'm a gone sucker! They thought I couldn't find out
+what they were up to--the municipal government--but I'm a deep one,
+and I know every thing that's going for'ard. What a jolly go, to be
+sure! They told me Mayor Bigelow hated proscription--but I knew it was
+gammon! He must follow the fashion, and Cochituate is all the go.
+There ain't no pumps now--it's all fountain! Pump water is full of
+animalculae, and straddle bugs don't exist in pond water--of course
+not. Nobody ever see young pollywogs and snapping turtles floating
+down stream in fly-time. Certainly not! I'm getting old--of course I
+am; that's the talk! I've been in office too long. Well, well, I know
+I'm rather asthmatic and phthisicky--but nobody ever knowed me to
+suck, even in the driest time. These living waters have welled up even
+from the time when the salt sea was divided from the land, and the
+rocks were cloven by the hand of Omnipotence, and the sweet spring
+came bursting upward from the fragrant earth, and light and flowers
+came together to welcome the birthday of the glad and glorious gift.
+Here, many a century back, the giant mastodon trod the earth into deep
+hollows, as he moved upon his sounding path. Then came another time.
+In the hollow of the three hills, the Indian raised his bark wigwam,
+and the smoke of his council fire curled up like a mist-wreath in the
+forest. Here the red man filled the wild gourd cup when he returned
+weary from the chase or the skirmish. And here, too, the Indian
+maiden smoothed her dark locks, and her lustrous, laughing eyes gazed
+upon the image of her own dusky beauty, mirrored on the surface of the
+wave. By and by the red man ceased to drink of my unfailing rill.
+Beings with pale faces came to me to quench their thirst; bearded lips
+were moistened with my diamond drops; and I looked up upon iron
+corselet and steel hauberk, and faces harder than either. But the old
+Puritans gave me form and substance--a 'local habitation and a name.'
+The spirit of the fountain was wedded to its present tabernacle. The
+dwellings of men sprang up around me in the place of the departing
+forest. I gave them all a cheerful welcome. If the colonists worked
+hard, I worked harder yet. I filled their pails and cups, and revived
+their failing hearts, and cheered their unremitting labors. They
+called me their friend. The pretty girls smiled upon me, as, under
+pretence of levying contributions on my treasures, they chatted with
+young men who gathered at my side. Then came a sterner period. I heard
+no more love tales--no more idle gossip. Men stood here, and spoke of
+deep wrong, of tyranny, of trampled rights, of resistance, of liberty!
+That was a word I had not heard since the red man drank of my
+unfettered tide. One night, there was a great gathering here. There
+were men and boys, a multitude. There was much angry talk and much
+confusion. Then I heard the roll of the drum and the regular tramp of
+an armed force. A band of British soldiers, all resplendent with
+scarlet, and gold, and burnished muskets that glittered in the
+moonbeams, were formed into line at the command of an officer, and
+confronted the dark array of citizens. Then came an angry
+discussion--orders on the part of the commander for the multitude to
+disperse, which were unheeded or disobeyed. Then that line of
+glittering tubes was levelled. I heard the fatal word "fire!" the
+flame leaped from the muzzles of the muskets, and the volley crashed
+and echoed in the street. Blood flowed upon the pavement--the blood of
+citizens mingled with my waters, and I was the witness of a fearful
+tragedy. In after times, I heard it named the Boston Massacre. Since
+then, I have seen hours of sunshine and triumph, of fun and frolic, of
+anger and rejoicing. My waters have laved the dust that it might not
+soil the uniform of Washington as he rode past on his snow-white
+charger, amid the acclamations of the multitude. I have seen Hull and
+his tars pass up the street, bearing the stripes and stars in triumph
+from the war of the ocean. I have heard long-winded orators spout over
+my head in emulation of my craft, "in one weak, washy, everlasting
+flood." I have seen many a military, many a civic pageant. The last I
+witnessed was, as Dick Swiveller remarks, a 'stifler.' It was that
+confounded Water Celebration. Republics _is_ ungrateful. I was
+forgotten on that occasion. Nobody drank at the old city pump. People
+sat on my head and stood on my nose, just as if I had no feelings. I
+heard a young lady in the gallery overhead say, 'Well, that horrid old
+pump will soon be out of the way now.' And a city father answered her,
+'Of course.' It was a workin' then--treason and fate, and all them
+things. I knew they were going to 'put me out of my misery,' as the
+saying goes. I'm getting superannuated--I heard 'em say so. Sometimes
+an office boy tastes a drop, and then turns up his nose,--as if it
+wasn't pug enough before,--and says, 'What horrid stuff! the
+Cochituate for my money!' General Washington's canteen was filled
+here--and he said, 'Delicious!' when he raised it to his lips. But he
+was no judge, of course not. Time was when I wasn't slow but I'm not
+fast enough for this generation. When folks write letters with
+lightning, and sail ships with tea-kettles, pumps can't come it over
+'em. Well, well, I'll hold out to the last--I'll make 'em carry me off
+and bury me decently at the city's expense, and perhaps some kind old
+friend will write my epitaph."
+
+The old pump was mute--the speech was ended--its "song had died into
+an echo." We passed on mournful and thoughtful. Republics are
+ungrateful--old friends are forgotten with a change of fashion, and
+there is a period to the greatness of town pumps as well as the glory
+of individuals.
+
+
+
+
+THE TWO PORTRAITS.
+
+
+"Beautiful! beautiful!" exclaimed Ernest Lavalle, as, throwing himself
+back in his chair, he contemplated, with eyes half shut, a lovely
+countenance that smiled on him from a canvas, to which he had just
+added a few hesitating touches. It was but a sketch--little more than
+outline and dead coloring, and a misty haze seemed spread over the
+face, so that it looked vision-like and intangible. The young
+painter's exclamation was not addressed to his workmanship--he was not
+even looking at that faint image; but, through its medium, was gazing
+on lineaments as rare and fascinating as ever floated through a poet's
+or an artist's dream. Deep, lustrous blue eyes, in whose depth
+sincerity and feeling lay crystallized; features as regular as those
+of a Grecian statue; a lip melting, ripe, and dewy, half concealing,
+half revealing, a line of pearls; soft brown hair, descending in waves
+upon a neck and shoulders of satin surface and Parian firmness. Such
+were some of the external traits of loveliness belonging to
+
+    "A creature not too bright and good
+    For human nature's daily food,"
+
+who had completely actualized the ideal of the young Parisian artist,
+into whose studio we have introduced our readers. The fair original,
+whose portrait is before us, was Rose d'Amour, a beautiful actress of
+one of the metropolitan theatres, who had just made her debut with
+distinguished success. There was quite a romance in her history. Of
+unknown parents, she had commenced her career--like the celebrated
+Rachel--as a street singer, and was looking forward to no more
+brilliant future, when her beauty, genius, and purity of character
+attracted the attention of a distinguished newspaper editor, by whose
+benevolent generosity she was enabled to prepare herself for the
+stage, by two or three years of assiduous study. The success of his
+protegee more than repaid the kind patron for his exertions and
+expenditure.
+
+A word of Ernest Lavalle, and it shall suffice. He was the son of a
+humble vine dresser in one of the agricultural departments of France.
+His talent for drawing, early manifested, attracted the notice of his
+parish priest, whose earnest representations induced his father to
+send the boy to Paris, and give him the advantages afforded by the
+capital for students of art. In the great city, Ernest allowed none of
+the attractions, by which he was surrounded, to divert him from the
+assiduous pursuit of his beloved art. His mornings were passed in the
+gallery of the Louvre, his afternoons in private study, and his
+evenings at the academy, where he drew from casts and the living
+model. The only relaxation he permitted himself, was an occasional
+excursion in the picturesque environs of the French capital; and he
+always took his sketch book with him, thus making even his pleasure
+subservient to his studies. Two prizes obtained, for a drawing and a
+picture, secured for him the patronage of the academy, at whose
+expense he was sent to Italy, to pursue his studies in the famous
+galleries of Rome and Florence. He returned with a mind imbued with
+the beauty and majesty of the works of those great masters, whose
+glory will outlive the canvas and marble which achieved it,
+determined to win for himself a niche in the temple of Fame, or perish
+in his laborious efforts to obtain it. At this time he was in his
+twenty-second year. A vigorous constitution was his heritage; and his
+rounded cheek glowed with the warm color of health. His strictly
+classical features were enhanced by the luxuriance of his hair, which
+he wore flowing in its native curls, while his full beard and mustache
+relieved his face from the charge of effeminacy.
+
+Ernest was yet engaged in the contemplation of the unfinished work--or
+rather in dreaming of the bright original--when a light tap was heard
+at his door. He opened it eagerly, and his poor studio was suddenly
+illuminated, as it were, by the radiant apparition of Rose d'Amour.
+She was dressed with a charming simplicity, which well became a sylph
+like form, that required no adventitious aid from art.
+
+"Good morning, Monsieur Lavalle!" said the beautiful actress,
+cheerfully, as she dropped gracefully into the _fauteuil_ prepared for
+her reception. "You find me in the best possible humor to-day, thanks
+to this bright morning sun, and to the success of last night. _Mon
+Dieu!_ so many bouquets! you can't think! Really, the life of an
+_artiste_ begins to be amusing. Don't you find it so, as a painter?"
+
+"I confess to you, mademoiselle, I have my moments of despondency."
+
+"With your fine talent! Think better of yourself. I hope, at least,
+that I have not been so unlucky as to surprise you in one of those
+inopportune moments."
+
+"Ah, mademoiselle," said the painter, "if it were so, one of your
+smiles would dispel the cloud in a moment."
+
+"Really!" replied the actress, gayly. "Are you quite sure there is no
+flattery in the remark? I am aware that flattery is an essential part
+of an artist's profession."
+
+"Not of a true artist's," replied Ernest. "The aim and end of all art
+is truth; and he who forgets it is untrue to his high mission."
+
+"True," said the lady. "Well, then, _faites votre possible_--as
+Napoleon said to his friend David--for I am anxious that this portrait
+shall be a _chef-d'oeuvre_. I design it for a present."
+
+"With such a subject before me," replied the painter "I could not
+labor more conscientiously, if the picture were designed for myself."
+
+The sitting passed away rapidly, for the artist; and he was surprised
+when the lady, after consulting her watch, rose hastily, and
+exclaimed, "That odious rehearsal! I must leave you--but you ought to
+be satisfied, for I have given you two hours of my valuable time.
+Adieu, then, until to-morrow."
+
+With a smile that seemed natural to her, the beautiful girl vanished,
+taking with her half the sunshine of the room.
+
+The painter continued his labor of love. Indeed, so absorbed was he in
+his employment, that he did not notice the entrance of a visitor,
+until he felt a light tap on his shoulder, accompanied by the words,--
+
+"Bravo, _mon cher_! You are getting on famously. That is Rose
+herself--as radiant as she appears on the stage, when the focus of a
+_lorgnette_ has excluded all the stupid and _ennuyantes_ figures that
+surround her."
+
+The speaker was Sir Frederic Stanley, an English baronet, now some
+months in Paris, where he had plunged into all the gayeties of the
+season. He was a handsome man, of middle age, whose features bore the
+impress of dissipation.
+
+"You know the original, then?" asked the painter, somewhat coldly.
+
+"Know her! My dear fellow, I don't know any body else, as the Yankees
+say. Why, I have the entry of the _Gaite_, and pass all my evenings
+behind the scenes. I flatter myself--but no matter. I have taken a
+fancy to that picture: what do you say to a hundred louis for it?"
+
+"It is not for me to dispose of it."
+
+"You have succeeded so well, you wish to keep it for yourself--eh?
+Double the price, and let me have it!"
+
+"Impossible, Sir Frederic. It is painted for Mlle. d'Amour herself,
+and she designs it for a present."
+
+"Say no more," said the baronet, with a self-satisfied smile. "I think
+I could name the happy individual."
+
+Ernest would not gratify his visitor by a question, and the latter,
+finding the artist reserved and _distrait_, suddenly recollected the
+races at Chantilly, and took his leave.
+
+"Can it be possible," thought the painter, "that Rose has suffered her
+affections to repose on that conceited, purse-proud, elderly
+Englishman? O, woman! woman! how readily you barter the wealth of your
+heart for a handful of gold!"
+
+Another tap at the door--another visitor! Really, Lavalle must be
+getting famous! This time it is a lady--a lady of surpassing
+loveliness--one of those well-preserved Englishwomen, who, at forty,
+are as attractive as at twenty. This lady was tall and stately, with
+elegant manners, and perhaps a thought of sadness in her expression.
+She gazed long and earnestly upon the portrait of Rose d'Amour.
+
+"It is a beautiful face!" she said, at length. "And one that
+indicates, I should think, goodness of heart."
+
+"She is an angel!" said the painter.
+
+"You speak warmly, sir," said the lady, with a sad smile.
+
+Ernest blushed, for he feared that he had betrayed his secret. The
+lady did not appear to notice his embarrassment, and passed to the
+occasion of her visit, which was to engage the young artist to paint
+her portrait--a task which he readily undertook, for he was pleased
+with, and interested in, his fair patroness. The picture was
+immediately commenced, and an hour fixed for a second sitting, on the
+next day. It was on that occasion that the fair unknown encountered
+the actress, and they retired in company.
+
+The two portraits were finished at the same time, and reflected the
+greatest credit upon the artist. They were varnished, framed, and paid
+for, but the painter had received no orders for their final
+disposition, when, one morning, he was waited on by the two ladies,
+who informed him that they should call upon him the following day,
+when the two portraits would be presented, in his study, to the
+persons for whom they were designed. The artist was enjoined to place
+them on two separate easels,--that of the actress to stand nearest the
+door of the studio, and both to be concealed by a curtain until the
+ladies should give the signal for their exposure. The portrait of the
+English lady, we will here remark, had, by her request, been hitherto
+seen only by the artist. There was a mystery in this arrangement,
+which piqued, excessively, the curiosity of the painter, and he was
+anxious to witness the _denouement_.
+
+The next day, at eleven o'clock, every thing was in readiness, and the
+painter awaited the solution of the mystery.
+
+The first person who presented himself was Sir Frederic Stanley. He
+was very radiant.
+
+"Congratulate me, _mon cher_," said he. "Read that."
+
+Ernest took an open note from his hand, and read as follows:--
+
+     "Be at the studio of Ernest Lavalle, to-morrow, at eleven.
+     You will there receive a present, which, if there be any
+     truth in man's vows, will certainly delight you.
+
+                                                 "Rose."
+
+The astonishment and disappointment of Ernest was at its height, when
+his door opened, and the actress entered, followed by a female,
+closely veiled.
+
+"You are true to your appointment, Sir Frederic," said the actress,
+gayly, "and your punctuality shall be rewarded."
+
+She advanced to the farther easel, and, lifting the curtain, disclosed
+the features of the English lady.
+
+"This is for you!" she said, laughing.
+
+"My wife! by all that's wonderful!" exclaimed the baronet.
+
+"Accompanied by the original!" said Lady Stanley, as she unveiled and
+advanced. "Sir Frederic! Sir Frederic! when you were amusing yourself,
+by paying unmeaning attentions to this young lady, I am afraid you
+forgot to tell her that you had a wife in England."
+
+"I thought it unnecessary," stammered the baronet.
+
+"How could you disturb the peace of mind of a young girl, when you
+knew you could not requite her affection?" continued Lady Stanley.
+
+"It was only a flirtation, to pass the time," said Sir Frederic; "but
+I acknowledge it was culpable. My dear Emeline, I thank you for your
+present. I shall ever cherish it as my dearest possession--next to
+yourself."
+
+"For you, sir," said the beautiful actress, turning to Ernest, "I
+cannot think of depriving you of your best effort. Take the portrait.
+I wish the subject were worthier." And she withdrew the curtain from
+her picture.
+
+"I am ungrateful," said Ernest, in a low and tremulous tone. "Much as
+I prize the picture, I can never be happy without the original."
+
+"Is it so?" replied the actress, in the same low tone of emotion;
+then, placing her hand timidly in his, she added, "The original is
+yours!"
+
+
+
+
+UNCLE OBED.
+
+A FULL LENGTH PORTRAIT IN PEN AND INK.
+
+
+Uncle Obed--we omit his family name for various reasons--lived away
+down east, in a small but flourishing village, where he occupied a
+snug house, and what with a little farming, a little fishing, a little
+hunting, and a little trading, contrived, not only to make both ends
+meet at the expiration of each year, but accumulated quite a little
+property.
+
+In personal appearance he was small, but muscular and wiry. He was far
+from handsome; a pug nose, set between a pair of gooseberry eyes, a
+long, straight mouth, a head of hair in which sandy red and iron gray
+were mixed together, did not give him a very fascinating aspect. He
+rarely smiled, but when he did, his smile was expressive of the
+deepest cunning.
+
+Uncle Obed had one grievous fault--an unhappy propensity for acquiring
+the property of others--"a natural proclivity," as General Pillow
+says, to stealing. The Spartans thought there was no harm in
+stealing--in fact that it was rather meritorious than otherwise,
+providing that it was never found out; and both in theory and
+practice, Uncle Obed was a thorough Spartan. A few of his exploits in
+this way will serve to show his extraordinary 'cuteness.
+
+A neighbor of his had a black heifer with a white face, which
+occasionally made irruptions into Uncle Obed's pasturage. One evening,
+Obed made a seizure of her, and tied her up in his barn. He then went
+to the owner of the animal.
+
+"Mr. Stagg," said he, "there's been a cantankerous heifer a breaking
+into my lot, and I've been a lookin' for her, and I've cotched her at
+last."
+
+"Well," said the unconscious Mr. Stagg, "I 'spose you're going to
+drive her to the pound."
+
+"No, I ain't," answered Uncle Obed, with the smile we have alluded to,
+"I know a trick worth two of that. I'm going to kill her; and if you
+won't say nothing to nobody, but'll come up to-night and help me, you
+shall hev the horns and hide for your trouble."
+
+"Done," said Mr. Stagg. "I'll come."
+
+In the mean time, Uncle Obed took a pot of black paint, and covered
+the white face of the heifer, so as to prevent recognition. The
+neighbor came up at night, and helped despatch his own "critter,"
+receiving the horns and hide for his pay, and laughing with Obed to
+think how cleverly the owner had been "done."
+
+The next day he missed his heifer, and called on Obed to ask if he had
+seen her.
+
+"I hain't seen her to-day," replied Uncle Obed, "but if you'll go to
+the tannery, where you sold that hide, and 'll just take the trouble
+to overhaul it, Mr. Stagg, prehaps you'll find out where your heifer
+is."
+
+_Pre_haps he did.
+
+On another occasion Uncle Obed appropriated--we scorn to charge him
+with stealing--a cow which had had the misfortune to lose her tail.
+Stepping into a tannery, he cut off a tail, and sewed it on to the
+fragment which yet decorated the hind quarters of the stolen animal.
+He then drove her along towards the next market, and having to cross a
+ferry, had just got on board the boat with his booty, when down came
+the owner of the missing cow, "bloody with spurring, fiery red with
+haste," and took passage on the same boat.
+
+He eyed his cow very sharply, while Uncle Obed stood quietly by,
+watching the result of the investigation.
+
+"That's a pretty good cow, ain't it?" said Uncle Obed.
+
+"Yes," replied the owner, "and if her tail was cut off, I could swear
+it was mine."
+
+Uncle Obed quietly took his knife out of his pocket, and cutting the
+tail short off _above_ where the false one was joined on, threw it
+into the river.
+
+"Now, neighbor," said he, triumphantly, "can you swear that's your
+cow?"
+
+"Of course not," said the owner. "But they look very much alike."
+
+After stealing something or other, we forget what, Uncle Obed was
+observed, and the sheriff was sent in pursuit of him, in hot haste,
+mounted on a fine and very fast horse. After a hard run, Uncle Obed
+halted at the edge of a rough piece of ground, pulled off his coat,
+and pulled down about a rod of stone wall, then quietly went to work
+building it up again, as if that was his regular occupation.
+
+Presently the sheriff came riding up on the spur, and reining in,
+asked Obed if he had seen a fellow running for his life.
+
+"Yes," said Obed, "I see him jest now streakin' it like a quarter hoss
+in _that_ direction," pointing off. "But he was pretty nigh blown, and
+I 'xpect you can catch him in about two minnits."
+
+"Well, just hold my horse," said the sheriff, "and I'll overhaul him."
+
+The sheriff scrambled over the stones and through the bushes in the
+direction indicated, and the moment he was out of sight, Uncle Obed
+jumped on the horse and rode off at the top of his speed. He rode his
+prize to a town a good ways off, and sold the horse for a hundred and
+fifty dollars.
+
+For some similar exploit, he was arrested and committed to jail in
+Essex county, to await his trial. But the prison being then in a
+process of repair, Uncle Obed, with other victims of the law, was
+incarcerated in the fort in Salem harbor. He made his escape, however,
+by crawling through the sewer, as Jack Sheppard did from Newgate
+prison. The sentinel on duty saw a mass of seaweed floating on the
+surface of the water. Now, this was nothing extraordinary, but it
+_was_ extraordinary for seaweed to float _against_ the tide. Uncle
+Obed's head was in that floating mass. He was hailed and ordered to
+swim back. He made no answer. A volley of musketry was discharged at
+him, but no boat being very handy, he got off and made his escape,
+very much after the manner of Rob Roy at the ford of Avondow.
+
+Uncle Obed had a famous black Newfoundland dog, worth from sixty to
+eighty dollars. When hard up, he used to take the dog about fifty or a
+hundred miles from home, where he was unknown, and sell him. No matter
+what the distance was, the dog always came back to his old master, who
+realized several hundred dollars by the repeated sales of him.
+
+Such were a few of the exploits of this departed worthy, actually
+vouched for by contemporaries. His passion for stealing was
+undoubtedly a monomania, for he was known in many cases to make
+voluntary restitution of articles that he had purloined, and his
+circumstances did not allow him the plea of necessity which palliates
+the errors of desperately poor rogues in every eye except that of the
+law.
+
+
+
+
+THE CASKET OF JEWELS.
+
+
+Mr. Luke Brandon was a Wall Street broker, of moderate business
+capacity, little education, and of plain manners, partaking of the
+rustic simplicity of his original employment--he was, in early life, a
+farmer in one of the western counties of New York. With less talent
+and more cunning, he might have become a very rich man, at short
+notice; but being brought up in an old-fashioned school of morality,
+he could never learn to dignify swindling by the epithet of smartness,
+nor consider overreaching his neighbor a "fair business transaction."
+Hence he plodded along the even tenor of his way, contented with
+moderate profits, and satisfied with the prospect of becoming
+independent by slow degrees.
+
+But in an evil hour, during a fortnight's relaxation at the Catskill
+Mountain House, this steady and respectable gentleman, at the mature
+age of thirty-five, quite an old bachelor indeed, fell desperately in
+love with a dashing girl of twenty, the orphan daughter of a bankrupt
+ship chandler. Miss Maria Manners was highly educated; that is, she
+could write short notes on perfumed billet paper, without making any
+orthographical or grammatical mistakes, had taken three quarters'
+lessons of a French barber, could work worsted lapdogs and embroider
+slippers, danced like a sylph, and played on the piano indifferently
+well. She had visited the Catskills on a matrimonial speculation, and
+made a dead set at poor Brandon. Of course with his experience in the
+ways of women, he fell a ready dupe to the fascinating wiles of Miss
+Manners. She kept him in an agony of suspense for a week, during every
+evening of which she waltzed with a young lieutenant of dragoons, who
+was playing billiards and drinking champagne on a sick leave, until
+she could hear from a fabulous guardian at Philadelphia, and obtain
+his consent to a sacrifice of her brilliant prospects--nothing a year
+and a very suspicious account at a fashionable milliner's.
+
+Mr. Brandon went down to the city, purchased a snug house, furnished
+it modestly, gave a liberal order on his tailor, and one memorable
+morning, might have been seen looking very uncomfortable, in a white
+satin stock and kids, beside a lady elegantly dressed in satin and
+blonde lace, while a portly clergyman pronounced his sentence in the
+shape of a marriage benediction.
+
+There was a snug wedding breakfast in the new house, at which were
+present several eminent apple speculators from Fulton market, two or
+three bank clerks, and a reporter for a weekly newspaper, who consumed
+a ruinous amount of sandwiches and bottled ale.
+
+Before the honeymoon was over, the bride began to display some of the
+less amiable features of her character. She sneered at the situation
+and simplicity of the establishment, and protested she was
+unaccustomed to that sort of style. She was perfectly sincere in this,
+for the defunct ship chandler had lived in a basement and two attic
+chambers.
+
+By dint of repeated persecutions, she induced her husband to move into
+a larger house; and finally, after the expiration of many years, we
+find them established in the upper part of the city, in a splendid
+mansion, looking out upon a fashionable square, with a little marble
+boy in front sitting on a brick, and spouting a stream of Croton
+through a clam shell.
+
+One morning, Mr. Brandon came home about eleven o'clock. On entering
+his front door, he beheld, lounging on a sofa, with the _Courrier des
+Etats Unis_ in his hand, Claude, the handsome French page of Mrs. B.
+
+"Where is Mrs. B.?" asked the elderly broker.
+
+"Madame is in her boudoir," replied the page; "but," he added, seeing
+his master move in that direction, "I do not know whether she is
+visible."
+
+"That I will ascertain myself, young gentleman," replied the broker,
+with a slight shade of irony in his tone. "But tell me, is there any
+one with her?"
+
+"Only M. Auguste Charmant," said the page.
+
+"That confounded Frenchman!" muttered the plebeian broker. "My Yankee
+house is turned topsyturvy by these foreigners. There's a French cook,
+and a French chambermaid, and the friend of the family is a Frenchman.
+I don't know what I'm eating, and I hardly understand a word that's
+said at my table. Sometimes, by way of change, they talk Italian
+instead of French. One might as well associate with a stack of
+monkeys. Out of the way, jackanapes."
+
+"Monsieur," said the page, with true Gallic dignity, "I was about to
+proceed to announce monsieur."
+
+"Monsieur can announce himself," replied Brandon, with the grin of a
+hyena; and proceeding up stairs, he entered the boudoir without
+knocking.
+
+Mrs. Brandon was lounging on a _fauteuil_, in an elegant morning
+toilet--literally plunged and embowered in costly Brussels lace. Her
+delicate, bejewelled fingers were playing with the petals of an
+exquisite bouquet. Thanks to a good constitution, a life of ease, an
+accomplished milliner and an incomparable dentist, the fair Maria,
+though the mother of a marriageable girl, was still a lovely and
+fascinating woman, and Brandon, as he gazed on her superb figure,
+almost forgave her absurd ambition and her ruinous extravagance.
+Still, when he glanced at his own anxious, emaciated, and careworn
+features, in the splendid Versailles mirror that hung opposite, his
+transitory pleasure gave way to stern and bitter feelings. He merely
+nodded to his wife, and bowed coldly to her companion, a young man
+attired in the height of fashion, with dark eyes and hair, and the
+most superb mustache imaginable.
+
+"Ah! my dear Meestare Brandon," said the dandy, "give me your hand. I
+congratulate you on such a _bonne fortune_--such good luck as has
+befallen you."
+
+"Explain yourself, sir," said the broker.
+
+"_Avec plaisir._ I have secured for you a box at the opera for the
+whole season--and for only five hundred dollars."
+
+The broker whistled.
+
+"Really nothing," said Mrs. Brandon; "only think--the best troupe we
+have yet had--a new _prima donna_ and a new _basso_."
+
+"Fiddlestick!" said the matter-of-fact husband. "What does it amount
+to?"
+
+"Brandon," said the lady with a true maternal dignity, "reflect upon
+the importance of the opera to the education of your daughter."
+
+"Nonsense!" said the broker, angrily. "My daughter Julia would please
+me much better if she cultivated a little common sense, and adopted
+the plain, republican manners fitted to the eventualities of her
+future life, instead of aping foreign fashions, and doing her best to
+denationalize her character."
+
+Monsieur Auguste Charmant shrugged his shoulders, Mrs. Brandon clasped
+her hands, and the former, rising said,--
+
+"_Au revoir_, madame, _au plaisir_, Monsieur Brandon. I will bid you
+good morning, and leave you to the pleasures of a conjugal
+_tete-a-tete_."
+
+Mr. Brandon rose and paced the room to and fro for several minutes
+after the departure of the Frenchman, narrowly eyed by Mrs. Brandon,
+who was anticipating a "scene," and preparing to meet it. In these
+contests the victory generally rested with the lady. The broker
+finally opened the door, and finding the page with ear glued against
+the keyhole, quietly took that young gentleman by the lobe of his left
+ear, and leading him to the head of the staircase, advised him, as a
+friend, to descend it as speedily as possible, before his gravitation
+was assisted by the application of an extraneous power. This
+accomplished, he returned to the boudoir, and locking the door, sat
+down beside his wife. The latter playfully tapped his cheek with her
+bouquet, but the broker took no notice of the coquettish action, and
+gloomily contemplating his gaiters, as if afraid to trust his eyes
+with the siren glances of his partner, commenced:--
+
+"Mrs. B., I want to have some serious talk with you."
+
+"You never have any other kind of small talk," retorted the lady. "You
+have a rare gift at sermonizing."
+
+Mr. Brandon passed over the sneer, and continued:--
+
+"You alluded just now to Julia; it is of her I wish to speak. Let me
+remind you of her future prospects, and ask you whether it be not time
+to change your system of educating her, and prepare her for a change
+of life. You will remember then, that, two years ago, with the
+consent of all parties, she was engaged to Arthur Merton, a very
+promising young dry goods merchant of Boston."
+
+"Only a retail merchant," said Mrs. Brandon.
+
+"A promising young merchant, the son of my old friend Jasper Merton.
+It was agreed between us that I should bestow ten thousand dollars on
+my daughter, and Merton an equal sum upon his son. In case of the
+failure of either party to fulfil the engagement, the father of the
+party was to forfeit to the aggrieved person the sum of ten thousand
+dollars. This very week, I expect my old friend and his son to ratify
+the contract. You know with what difficulty, owing to the enormous
+expenses of our mode of life, I have laid aside the stipulated sum;
+for in your hands, the hands of the mother of my child, I have lodged
+this sacred deposit."
+
+"Very true," said the lady, "and it is now in my secretary, under lock
+and key. But what an odious arrangement! How the contract and the
+forfeit smell of the shop!"
+
+"Don't despise the smell of the shop, Maria," said the broker, smiling
+gravely, "it is the smell of the shop that perfumes the boudoir."
+
+"And then Arthur Merton is such a shocking person," continued the
+lady; "really, no manners."
+
+"To my mind, Maria," said the broker, "his manners, plain, open, and
+frank, are infinitely superior to those of the French butterfly who is
+always fluttering at your elbow."
+
+"And if he is always fluttering at my elbow," retorted the lady, "it
+is because you are always away."
+
+"That is because I always have business," said the broker. "If we
+lived in less style, I should have more leisure. Ah! Maria! Maria! I
+fear that we are driving on too recklessly; the day of reckoning will
+come--we seem to be sailing prosperously now, but a shipwreck may
+terminate the voyage."
+
+"Not while I have the helm," said the lady. "Listen to me, Brandon.
+You know little of the philosophy of life. To command success, we must
+seem to have obtained it. To be rich, we must seem so. You have done
+well to follow my advice in one particular. You have taken a very
+prominent part in the present presidential canvass. There cannot fail
+to be a change of administration, and while you have been making
+yourself conspicuous in public, I have been electioneering for you in
+private. I have been feasting and petting the men who hold the winning
+cards in their hands. It is not for mere ostentation that I have
+invited to my _soirees_, the Hon. Mr. A., and Judge B., and Counsellor
+C."
+
+"I don't see what you're driving at," said the broker.
+
+"O, of course not. But when you find yourself a _millionnaire_, and
+all by the scheming of your wife, perhaps, B., you'd think there was
+some wisdom in what you are pleased to call my fashionable follies.
+But to make the matter plain--a change of administration occurs--you
+are the confidential friend of the secretary of the treasury--your
+talents as a financier are duly recognized--you have the management of
+the most important loans and contracts--you have four years, perhaps
+eight, to flourish in, and your fortune is made."
+
+"Ah!" said the broker, doubtfully.
+
+"If such success attends you, and there can be no doubt of it, how
+painful would be your reflections, if you thought that you had
+sacrificed your daughter's future in an alliance with a petty trader.
+I have arranged a brighter destiny for her--a marriage with a foreign
+nobleman."
+
+"I'd rather see her the wife of a Yankee peddler."
+
+"Out upon you!" cried the lady. "I tell you, your opposition will have
+little weight, Mr. B. Come to my _soiree_ this evening, and I will
+present you to Count Alfred de Roseville, an exile from France for
+political offences--only think, B., he was the intimate friend of
+Henry V."
+
+"And who vouches for this paragon?"
+
+"Our friend, Auguste."
+
+"_Your_ friend, Auguste, you mean."
+
+"I mean M. Charmant, the friend of the family."
+
+"And what does Julia think of this Phoenix?"
+
+"She adores him."
+
+"Alas! how her gentleness of nature must have been perverted! Well,
+well, Maria, in spite of myself, I cannot resolve to humble your
+pride, or thwart your schemes. I believe you love me and your
+daughter. Yet you are playing a desperate game--remember, our all is
+staked upon the issue."
+
+"And I'll await the hazard of the die," replied Mrs. B., as she kissed
+her husband fondly, and dismissed him with a wave of the hand.
+
+When Brandon came down into the hall, he was thunder-struck at meeting
+there three persons, whose appearance, after what had just passed up
+stairs in the boudoir, might well be considered inopportune. The first
+was uncle Richard Watkins, a relative of Mr. Brandon's, who resided in
+the country, and had become immensely rich by land speculations, and
+the others were Mr. Merton and his son. A pile of baggage announced
+that they were not mere callers.
+
+"Give us your hand, Luke," said uncle Richard, extending his enormous
+brown palm, "you ain't glad to see me, nor nothin', be you? Brought my
+trunk, valise, carpet bag, and hatbox, and cal'late to spend six
+weeks here. How's the old woman and the gal--pretty smart? Well,
+that's hearty."
+
+The broker shook the old man by the hand, and then turned to welcome
+with the best grace he could his friend Merton, and his proposed
+son-in-law.
+
+"You know what _we've_ come for," said the elder Merton, with a sly
+wink.
+
+"Pray walk into the drawing room," said the broker, and 'on hospitable
+thoughts intent,' he threw wide the door, and the party entered.
+
+Ah! unlucky Brandon! why didst thou not summon the French page to
+announce thy guests? Thou hadst then been spared a scene that might
+have figured in a comedy, and came near furnishing material for a
+tragedy.
+
+An elegant young man was kneeling at the feet of an elegant young
+lady. The former was Count Alfred de Roseville, the latter Miss Julia
+Brandon. The count started to his feet, the young lady blushed and
+shrieked. The count was the first to recover his voice and
+self-possession. Rushing to the broker, he exclaimed in broken
+English,--
+
+"O, my dear monsieur, how I moost glad to see you--your daughter--Mees
+Julie--she 'ave say--yais--yais--yais--to my ardent love suit--and now
+I have the honneur to salute her respectable papa."
+
+"O, father," said the terrified girl, "it was with mother's knowledge
+and consent."
+
+Brandon could not speak a word.
+
+"This lady, sir," said Merton, fiercely, advancing to the count, "is
+my affianced bride."
+
+"Your bride--eh?" cried the count, "when she has just come to
+say--yais--to my ardent love suit!"
+
+"What does the gal say? what does the gal say?" asked uncle Richard,
+interposing.
+
+"Speak, Julia," said her father, sternly, "and weigh well your words.
+I will not force you to fulfil a contract against your will--the
+penalty and contingency of such a refusal have been provided for--but
+pause before you reject the son of my old friend for a foreigner--a
+man with whom you can have had but a few days' acquaintance."
+
+Julia averted her eyes, and blushed scarlet, but placed her hand in
+that of the count just as her mother entered the apartment.
+
+"Enough," said young Merton, "I am satisfied. Come, father, let us
+retire--our presence here is only a burden. O, Julia!" he added, in a
+tone of deep feeling, "little did I expect this at your hands. I have
+looked forward to this meeting with the fondest hope. It is
+past--farewell--may you be happy."
+
+"I shall be very happy to see you again--nevair!" said the count.
+
+"O, as to that," said young Merton, approaching him, and addressing
+him in a low tone, "I think _you_, at least, have not seen the last of
+me, monsieur. At any rate, you shall hear from me soon."
+
+"I 'ave not nozzin to do nor not to say viz _canaille_," said the
+count.
+
+"Then, perhaps, it will be more agreeable to you, sir, to be
+horsewhipped in Broadway," said Merton.
+
+"Me! horsevhip! me! the friend of Henri V.! horreur!" cried the count.
+
+"Very good, monsieur, I have presented the alternative. Where may you
+be found?"
+
+"_Hotel de Ville_--City Hotel."
+
+"_Au plaisir_, then _Count_ Alfred de Roseville," said Merton,
+glancing at the card the Frenchman handed him. "Come, father."
+
+"Mr. Brandon, I shall wait on you at your counting room in the course
+of the forenoon," said Mr. Merton, senior; "we have an account to
+settle together."
+
+And the father and son bowed themselves out of the room. Julia was so
+much agitated at the events which had just transpired, that she was
+compelled to retire to her room. Uncle Richard and Mr. and Mrs.
+Brandon remained upon the field of battle.
+
+"Well, Maria," said the broker, "the first act of the comedy has been
+played, in which you have assigned me a very insignificant and
+low-comedy part, but I don't think either of us has made a very
+distinguished figure in it. I hope the last act will redeem the
+first."
+
+The lady reddened, but made no reply.
+
+"Let us foot up the column to see what amount is to be carried
+forward," continued the broker. "Here's an old friendship dissolved--a
+worthy young man broken hearted--a suspicious suitor introduced into
+my family, and ten thousand dollars to be paid on demand. A very
+pretty morning's work."
+
+"It will come out right," said Mrs. Brandon.
+
+"As the boy remarked when he was gored by the cow's horn," observed
+uncle Richard, philosophically, as he extended his length upon an
+ottoman, including his boots in the enjoyment of the comfort of cut
+velvet.
+
+"I leave uncle Richard to your care, madam," said the broker, "while I
+go down in town to ascertain the value of my new son-in-law's paper
+upon 'change."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On an evening not long after the above scenes, the broker's house was
+brilliantly lighted up from basement to attic. Through the open hall
+door, at the head of the flight of marble steps, servants in livery
+were seen receiving the shawls and hats of the guests, as carriage
+after carriage deposited its brilliant contents at the house of the
+financier. Mingled with the black coats of the gentlemen, and the
+gossamer attire of the ladies, were seen the brilliant uniforms of
+officers of the army and navy. The crowd poured into the magnificent
+ball room, where, flanked by her husband, and by the indefatigable
+Monsieur Charmant, the lovely hostess received her guests with an
+elegance of manner truly aristocratic. The delicious waltzes of
+Strauss, performed by a German band, floated through the magnificent
+rooms. Glistening chandeliers poured down a flood of soft light on the
+fair faces and the polished ivory shoulders of the ladies. It was a
+scene of enchantment, and Mrs. Brandon revelled in the splendor that
+surrounded her and the incense that was offered. She was pleased at
+the distinguished appearance of her husband, pleased to see her
+daughter hanging on the arm of the French count, pleased at every
+thing but one. One object alone, like the black mask at the bridal of
+Hernani, marred the festivity, and created a discord in the midst of
+the harmony--that was uncle Richard, walking up and down the ball room
+in a meal-colored coat and cowhide boots.
+
+Various efforts were made to get possession of uncle Richard and lead
+him away into captivity. A whist table was suggested in an anteroom,
+an Havana was proposed in the library, but he "didn't want to play
+cards, and had just quit smoking," and so he paraded his coat and
+boots before the company, the "observed of all observers."
+
+Mrs. B. made the best of it, whispering confidentially that he was a
+distant connection, immensely rich, partially insane, but perfectly
+harmless. O, how dazzling was Mrs. Brandon that evening, in the
+beauty of her person and of her attire! She wore diamonds that were
+valued at ten thousand dollars.
+
+In the midst of the brilliant festivities, Mr. Brandon was suddenly
+summoned from the ball room. He presently returned, looking very pale,
+and beckoned his wife, who followed him into the library. Mr. Merton,
+senior, was there, with a very stern expression on his countenance.
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Mrs. Brandon.
+
+"The matter," said her husband, "is simply this--Mr. Merton leaves
+town to-night for Philadelphia, on special business, and having
+occasion for a large sum of money, requires the immediate payment of
+the ten thousand dollars which are due him for our violation of the
+marriage contract."
+
+"Yes, madam," said Mr. Merton, "and I called on your husband for it,
+and he referred me to you as having the deposit in your possession."
+
+"Wouldn't to-morrow do as well?" asked the lady anxiously.
+
+"No, madam, my necessity is urgent."
+
+"Go, Maria," said the broker, "and bring the money instantly. A debt
+like this admits of no postponement."
+
+"Alas! alas!" stammered the poor woman, "I have not this money by me.
+Surely, Mr. Brandon, you must be able to command it."
+
+"Not one dollar, madam," said the broker. "I would have spared you
+this explanation to-night, but you have brought it on yourself. This
+is our last night of factitious splendor--my affairs are in
+inextricable confusion--losses have this day come to light which
+complete my ruin--and to-morrow the world will know me as a bankrupt."
+
+Mrs. Brandon wrung her hands and sobbed bitterly.
+
+"But that is a grief for to-morrow," said the broker, sternly. "There
+is music and dancing, champagne and flowers, in the next room--enough
+glory for to-night. But this business of Mr. Merton's requires instant
+attention. What have you done with the ten thousand dollars? Have you
+dared to squander it?"
+
+"No, no," said Mrs. Brandon earnestly. "I am not so bad as that. I
+deposited it with Sandford, the jeweller, of whom I hired the casket
+of jewels to deck myself to-night."
+
+"Mr. Merton," said the broker, calmly, "I shall have to trouble your
+patience a little while longer. I will write instantly to Mr.
+Sandford, late as it is, and bid him bring the money here at once."
+
+After despatching the note, Brandon and his wife returned to the ball
+room. O, how insipid to the lady's ear seemed now the babble of her
+guests! The flowers had lost their perfume--the music its divine
+influence. Yet, with the serpent of remorse and anguish gnawing at her
+heart, she was forced to smile and seem happy and at ease. A half hour
+passed in this way seemed an age of torture; and when the messenger
+despatched by her husband had returned and summoned them again to the
+library, it gave her inexpressible relief.
+
+"O, Mr. Sandford!" she exclaimed to the jeweller, who was now added to
+the party, "how happy I am to see you! There is your casket--and here
+are your diamonds!" and she tore the jewels from her neck, ears, and
+wrists, and offered them to the jeweller.
+
+"Madam," said the jeweller, gravely, after having examined the gems,
+"these are not the articles I furnished you. I lent you a set of
+diamonds--these are paste!"
+
+"What is the meaning of this?" asked the broker sternly.
+
+"I know not. I cannot explain. O, Luke! Luke! I am innocent!" and Mrs.
+Brandon sunk fainting into a chair.
+
+When she had recovered her senses, Mr. Brandon asked,--
+
+"Did you make this arrangement in person?"
+
+"No," she replied; "it was through the mediation of Mr. Charmant."
+
+"Let's send for him," said Merton.
+
+"Stay," said the broker; "an idea has occurred to me. I have observed
+at times that this Monsieur Charmant had a good deal to say to your
+French page, my good lady."
+
+"It was he that recommended Claude," said Mrs. Brandon.
+
+"Then we will have Claude before us," said the broker.
+
+Claude soon made his appearance.
+
+"Claude," said Mrs. Brandon, "do you know any thing about this casket
+of jewels?"
+
+The boy changed color, but shook his head.
+
+"Now, my Christian friend," said the broker, "you need not tell us
+what you know about the jewels, if you are unwilling; but in case of
+your refusal, I shall send for a police officer, who will,
+undoubtedly, drum the whole affair out of you."
+
+The threat had the desired effect. The boy confessed that Charmant and
+De Roseville were impostors--that they were not even Frenchmen, but a
+brace of London thieves, who had picked up a knowledge of French
+during a professional tour on the continent, and who had emigrated to
+America for the purpose of introducing their art among our
+unsophisticated countrymen. Charmant had been a jeweller, and this
+enabled him to counterfeit the gems obtained of Mr. Sandford, which he
+purposed disposing of at the first favorable opportunity. The boy
+believed that Charmant had them about him at that moment. In England,
+Charmant was known as French Jack, and Roseville as Rusty Joe.
+
+"Go back to the ball room," said Mr. Merton to Brandon, "and take your
+wife with you. Mr. Sandford, you stay by the boy. I'll go for an
+officer."
+
+Brandon and his lady returned to the ball room, the latter somewhat
+relieved, but mortified at the deceptions which had been practised on
+her.
+
+In a few minutes a burly member of the police, with a very thick
+stick, and a very red handkerchief knotted round his neck, made his
+appearance, to the astonishment and consternation of the guests, amid
+whom the host and hostess alone testified no excitement or alarm.
+
+"Sarvant, ladies and gentlemen, sarvant," said the legal functionary,
+scraping his right boot, and plucking desperately at the brim of his
+hat. "Don't let me interrupt yer innercent amusement--sorry to
+intrude, as the bull said when he rushed into the china shop--but
+business before pleasure--now then, my hearty! how are you?"
+
+The last words were accompanied by a vigorous blow on the shoulder of
+M. Auguste Charmant, who was at that moment paying his attentions to a
+belle from Union Square.
+
+"_Monsieur me parle-t-il_?" exclaimed the dandy, with well-feigned
+astonishment.
+
+"O, nix the lingo, French Jack," said the officer, "or leastways
+patter Romany so's a cove can understand you. Fork over them are
+dimonds--or else it will go harder with you. The boy's peached, and
+the game's up--you were spotted long ago."
+
+With a smothered curse, French Jack dived his hand into his vest
+pocket and produced the stolen jewels. While this was enacting, the
+count had been quietly stealing to the door, but the vigilant officer
+had an eye upon his movements, and a hand upon his shoulder before he
+could escape.
+
+"Now I've got the pair of you," said the worthy man, chuckling
+apoplectically in the folds of his red handkerchief. "Now, don't ride
+rusty, Joe--for there's a small few of us outside with amazin' thick
+sticks, that might fall on your head and hurt you, if so be you
+happened to be rambustical."
+
+"Curse the luck!" muttered the thief, as with his companion he marched
+off.
+
+It may well be imagined that the scene dispersed the party in a hurry.
+They took French leave, like birds scattered by a sudden storm. Julia
+was carried to bed in hysterics, accompanied by her mother. Merton and
+the jeweller had disappeared, the three rogues had been taken into
+custody, and only Brandon and uncle Richard
+
+                   ----"trod alone
+    The banquet hall deserted."
+
+"Well, uncle," said the broker, bitterly, "the game's up. I have been
+ruined, stock and fluke, by letting my wife have her own way, and
+to-morrow I shall be a bankrupt."
+
+"No you won't," said uncle Richard.
+
+"Yes I shall," said the broker, angrily. "And Julia, abandoned by her
+lover, will be broken hearted."
+
+"No she won't," said uncle Richard.
+
+"Who's to prevent it?" asked the broker.
+
+"Uncle Richard," replied that personage. "What's the use of a friend,
+unless he's a friend in need. I've got plenty of money, and neither
+chick nor child in the world. I'll meet your liabilities with cash.
+Young Merton loves Julia in spite of her temporary alienation--he will
+gladly take her back. The rogues will get their deserts. Your wife,
+sick and ashamed of her fashionable follies, will gladly gin' up this
+house and the servants. You'll buy a little country seat on the
+Hudson, and I'll come and live with you."
+
+As every thing turned out exactly as uncle Richard promised and
+predicted, we have no occasion to enlarge on the fortunate subsiding
+of this "sea of troubles."
+
+
+
+
+ACTING CHARADES.
+
+     But, masters, remember that I am an ass; though it be not
+     written down, yet forget not that I am an
+     ass.--SHAKSPEARE, _Much Ado about Nothing._
+
+
+Many of our readers have doubtless witnessed, or perchance
+participated in, the amusement of acting charades--a divertisement
+much in vogue in social circles, and if cleverly done, productive of
+much mirth. To the uninitiated, a brief description of an acted
+charade may not be unacceptable. A word of two or more syllables is
+selected, each part of which must make sense by itself--as, for
+instance, the word inspector, which would be decomposed, thus; _inn
+spectre_. The company of performers would then extemporize a scene at
+a public house, leaving the spectators to guess at the first syllable,
+_inn_. The second scene would represent the terror occasioned by the
+apparition of a phantom, and give the second part of the word spectre.
+The third scene would represent the whole word, and would perhaps be a
+brigade inspector reviewing his troops, giving occasion for the humors
+of a Yankee militia training. Much ingenuity is required in the
+selection of a word, and in carrying out the representation, with
+appropriate dialogue, &c.
+
+Acting charades generally turns a house topsy turvy; wardrobes and
+garrets are ransacked for costumes and properties; hats, canes,
+umbrellas, and firearms are mustered, and old dresses that haven't
+seen the light for forty years are rummaged out as disguises for the
+actors in these extempore theatricals.
+
+In a certain circle in this city there was a knot of clever young
+people, of both sexes, strongly addicted to acting charades, and very
+happy in their execution. But they were unfortunately afflicted by an
+interloper,
+
+                  "Whose head
+    Was not of brains particularly full,"
+
+one of those geniuses who have a fatal facility for making blunders.
+Yet, with a pleasing unconsciousness of his deficiencies, he was
+always volunteering his services, and always expected, in this matter
+of acting charades, to be intrusted with the leading parts.
+
+One evening the usual coterie was assembled, charades were proposed,
+as usual, and the little knot of performers retired to the back
+drawing room, dropping the curtain behind them, and prepared for their
+performance, congratulating themselves that Mr. Blinks, the name of
+the marplot, was not on hand to spoil their sport. They selected the
+word _catastrophe_, and the curtain went up.
+
+A very pretty and lively young lady, who had been abroad, gave a very
+happy imitation of the almost inimitable Jenny Vertpre, in the French
+vaudeville of the "Cat metamorphosed to a Woman," in that scene where
+she betrays her original nature. She purred, she frolicked, she
+pounced on an imaginary mouse, caught it, tossed it up in the air, and
+went through all the manoeuvres of a veritable grimalkin. When the
+curtain fell, amidst roars of laughter and applause, the first
+syllable--cat--was whispered from mouth to mouth, among the audience.
+
+At this moment the hated Blinks arrived in the green-room.
+
+"What are you up to? Acting charades--eh? By Jove! I'm just in time.
+You must give me a part--can't get along without me. What's the word?"
+
+"No matter," said the young lady who had played the cat, with a wicked
+smile of intelligence. "Prompter, ring the curtain up. All you've got
+to do, Mr. Blinks, is to walk across the stage."
+
+"But where's my dress?"
+
+"What you have on. Appear in your own character."
+
+The curtain went up, and Blinks stalked across with his accustomed air
+of intolerable stupidity. Amidst smothered laughter, the audience
+guessed the second syllable of the charade--_ass_.
+
+The curtain went up for the third time. A group of Indian chiefs were
+located in a wigwam. A young brave entered, distinguished by the eagle
+plume and wampum belt, the bow and hatchet, and threw down at the feet
+of the eldest warrior a bundle of the scalps he had brought back from
+battle. A hum of approbation rose from the assembly. The curtain fell.
+The word _trophy_ had been thus indicated. The whole word was then
+represented by an appropriate scene from the close of a popular
+tragedy, and the spectators, cheering the performance, called out
+_catastrophe_ to the actors.
+
+"Well, they made out to guess it," said Blinks, when the curtain had
+fallen, for the last time. "But now it's all over, you made one
+confounded blunder."
+
+"What was that?" asked the wicked young lady.
+
+"You didn't act the second syllable."
+
+"No?"
+
+"No! indeed!" said Blinks, with a look of intense cunning. "You had
+_cat_ and _trophy_--but where was the _ass_?"
+
+"O, indeed!" said the young lady.
+
+"You see, ladies and gentleman," said Blinks, enjoying his triumph,
+"you can't get along without me. If I'd been here in the beginning,
+you'd have had the ass."
+
+"We certainly should," said the young lady, winking to her companions,
+who could hardly suppress their laughter.
+
+"And I move we repeat this charade to-morrow night," said Blinks--"and
+mind, I'm the ass."
+
+"Of course."
+
+"I'll get a costume and disguise myself."
+
+"Disguise yourself!" echoed his tormentor--"for Heaven's sake, don't
+do that--they'd never guess it."
+
+The next night the charade was ass-ass-in, and Blinks went on for the
+first two syllables. He was perfectly at home--"Richard himself
+again!" and the wicked young lady, in complimenting his performance,
+declared it was "_perfectly natural_."
+
+
+
+
+THE GREEN CHAMBER.
+
+
+In my younger days, "ghost stories" were the most popular narratives
+extant, and the lady or gentleman who could recite the most thrilling
+adventure, involving a genuine spiritual visitant, was sure to be the
+lion or lioness of the evening party he enlivened (?) with the dismal
+details. The elder auditors never seemed particularly horrified or
+terror-stricken, however much gratified they were, but the younger
+members would drink in every word, "supping full of horrors." After
+listening to one of these authentic narratives, we used to be very
+reluctant to retire to our dormitories, and never ventured to get into
+bed till we had examined suspicious-looking closets, old wardrobes,
+and, indeed, every nook and corner that might be supposed to harbor a
+ghost or a ghoul.
+
+Fortunately for the rising generation, these tales have gone out of
+fashion, and though some attempts to revive the taste have been
+made--as in the "Night Side of Nature"--such efforts have proved
+deplorable failures. The young people of to-day make light of ghosts.
+The spectres in the incantation scene of "Der Freyschutz" are received
+with roars of laughter, and even the statue in Don Giovanni seems
+"jolly," notwithstanding the illusive music of Mozart. We were about
+to remark that the age had outgrown superstition, but we remembered
+the Rochester knockings, and concluded to be modestly silent.
+
+One evening, many years since--it was a blustering December
+evening--the wind howling as it dashed the old buttonwood limbs in its
+fury against the parlor windows of the country house where a few of us
+were assembled to pass the winter holidays, we gathered before a
+roaring fire of walnut and oak, which made every thing within doors as
+cheery and comfortable as all without was desolate and dreary. The
+window shutters were left unfastened, that the bright lamplight and
+ruddy firelight might stream afar upon the wintry waste, and perhaps
+guide some benighted wayfarer to a hospitable shelter.
+
+We shall not attempt to describe the group, as any such portrait
+painting would not be germane to the matter more immediately in hand.
+Suffice it to say, that one of the youngsters begged aunt Deborah, the
+matron of the mansion, to tell us a ghost story,--"a real ghost story,
+aunt Deborah,"--for in those days we were terribly afraid of
+counterfeits, and hated to hear a narrative where the ghost turned out
+in the end to be no ghost after all, but a mere compound of flesh and
+blood like ourselves.
+
+Aunt Deborah smiled at our earnestness, and tantalized our impatience
+by some of those little arts with which the practised story-teller
+enhances the value and interest of her narrative. She tapped her
+silver snuffbox, opened it deliberately, took a very delicate pinch of
+the Lundy Foot, shut the box, replaced it in her pocket, folded her
+hands before her, looked round a minute on the expectant group, and
+then began.
+
+I shall despair of imparting to this cold pen-and-ink record of her
+story the inimitable conversational grace with which she embellished
+it. It made an indelible impression on my memory, and if I have never
+before repeated it, it was from a lurking fear that--though the old
+lady assured us it was "not to be found in any book or newspaper"--it
+might have found its way into print. However, as twenty years have
+elapsed, and I have never yet met with it in type, I will venture to
+give the outlines of the narrative.
+
+Major Rupert Stanley, a "bold dragoon" in the service of his majesty
+George III., found himself, one dark and blustering night in autumn,
+riding towards London on the old York road. He had supped with a
+friend who lived at a village some distance off the road, and he was
+unfamiliar with the country. Though not raining, the air was damp, and
+the heavy, surcharged clouds threatened every moment to pour down
+their contents. But the major, though a young man, was an old
+campaigner; and with a warm cloak wrapped about him, and a good horse
+under him, would have cared very little for storm and darkness, had he
+felt sure of a good bed for himself, and comfortable quarters for his
+horse, when he had ridden far enough for the strength of his faithful
+animal. A good horseman cares as much for the comfort of his steed as
+for his own ease. To add to the discomfort of the evening, there was
+some chance of meeting highwaymen; but Major Stanley felt no
+uneasiness on that score, as, just before leaving his friend's house,
+he had examined his holster pistols, and freshly primed them. A brush
+with a highwayman would enhance the romance of a night journey.
+
+So he jogged along; but mile after mile was passed, and no twinkling
+light in the distance gave notice of the appearance of the wished-for
+inn. The major's horse began to give unmistakable evidence of
+distress--stumbling once or twice, and recovering himself with
+difficulty. At last, a dim light suddenly appeared at a turn of the
+road. The horse pricked up his ears, and trotted forward with spirit,
+soon halting beside a one-story cottage. The major was disappointed,
+but he rode up to the door and rapped loudly with the but of his
+riding whip. The summons brought a sleepy cotter to the door.
+
+"My good friend," said the major, "can you tell me how far it is to
+the next inn?"
+
+"Eh! it be about zeven mile, zur," was the answer, in the broad
+Yorkshire dialect of the district.
+
+"Seven miles!" exclaimed the major, in a tone of deep disappointment,
+"and my horse is already blown! My good fellow, can't you put my horse
+somewhere, and give me a bed? I will pay you liberally for your
+trouble."
+
+"Eh! goodness zakes!" said the rustic. "I be nought but a ditcher!
+There be noa plaze to put the nag in, and there be only one room and
+one bed in the cot."
+
+"What _shall_ I do?" cried the major, at his wits' end.
+
+"I'll tell 'ee, zur," said the rustic, scratching his head violently,
+as if to extract his ideas by the roots. "There be a voine large house
+on the road, about a moile vurther on. It's noa an inn, but the
+colonel zees company vor the vun o' the thing--'cause he loikes to zee
+company about 'un. You must 'a heard ov him--Colonel Rogers--a' used
+to be a soger once."
+
+"Say no more," cried the major. "I _have_ heard of this hospitable
+gentleman; and his having been in the army gives me a sure claim to
+his attention. Here's a crown for your information, my good friend.
+Come, Marlborough!"
+
+Touching his steed with the spur, the major rode off, feeling an
+exhilaration of spirits which soon communicated itself to the horse. A
+sharp trot of a few minutes brought him to a large mansion, which
+stood unfenced, like a huge caravansery, by the roadside. He made for
+the front door and, without dismounting, plied the large brass knocker
+till a servant in livery made his appearance.
+
+"Is your master up?" asked the major.
+
+"I am the occupant of this house," said a venerable gentleman, making
+his appearance at the hall door.
+
+"I am a benighted traveller, sir," said the major, touching his hat,
+"and come to claim your well-known hospitality. Can you give me a bed
+for the night? I am afraid my four-footed companion is hardly able to
+carry me to the next inn."
+
+"I cannot promise you a bed, sir," said the host, "for I have but one
+spare bed in the house."
+
+"And that----" said the major.
+
+"Happens to be in a room that does not enjoy a very pleasing
+reputation. In short, sir, one room of my house is haunted; and that
+is the only one, unfortunately, that I can place at your disposal
+to-night."
+
+"My dear sir," said the major, springing from his horse, and tossing
+the bridle to the servant, "you enchant me beyond expression! A
+haunted chamber! The very thing--and I, who have never seen a ghost!
+What luck!"
+
+The host shook his head gravely.
+
+"I never knew a man," he said, "to pass a night in that chamber
+without regretting it."
+
+Major Stanley laughed as he took his pistols from the holster pipes.
+"With these friends of mine," he said, "I fear neither ghost nor
+demon."
+
+Colonel Rogers showed his guest into a comfortable parlor, where a
+seacoal fire was burning cheerfully in a grate, and refreshments most
+welcome to a weary traveller stood upon a table.
+
+"Mine host" was an old campaigner, and had seen much service during
+the war of the American revolution, and he was full of interesting
+anecdotes and descriptions of adventures. But while Major Stanley was
+apparently listening attentively to the narrative of his hospitable
+entertainer, throwing in the appropriate ejaculations of surprise and
+pleasure at the proper intervals, his whole attention was in reality
+absorbed by a charming girl of twenty, the daughter of the colonel,
+who graced the table with her presence. Never, he thought, had he seen
+so beautiful, so modest, and so ladylike a creature; and she, in turn,
+seemed very favorably impressed with the manly beauty and frank
+manners of their military guest.
+
+At length she retired. The colonel, who was a three-bottle man, and
+had found a listener to his heart, was somewhat inclined to prolong
+the session into the small hours of the morning, but finding that his
+guest was much fatigued, and even beginning to nod in the midst of his
+choicest story, he felt compelled to ask him if he would not like to
+retire. Major Stanley replied promptly in the affirmative, and the old
+gentleman, taking up a silver candlestick, ceremoniously marshalled
+his guest to a large, old-fashioned room, the walls of which being
+papered with green, gave it its appellation of the "Green Chamber." A
+comfortable bed invited to repose; a cheerful fire was blazing on the
+hearth, and every thing was cosy and quiet. The major looked round him
+with a smile of satisfaction.
+
+"I am deeply indebted to you, colonel," said he, "for affording me
+such comfortable quarters. I shall sleep like a top."
+
+"I am afraid not," answered the colonel, shaking his head gravely. "I
+never knew a guest of mine to pass a quiet night in the Green
+Chamber."
+
+"I shall prove an exception," said the major, smiling. "But I must
+make one remark," he added, seriously. "It is ill sporting with the
+feelings of a soldier; and should any of your servants attempt to play
+tricks upon me, they will have occasion to repent it." And he laid
+his heavy pistol on the lightstand by his bedside.
+
+"My servants, Major Stanley," said the old gentleman, with an air of
+offended dignity, "are too well drilled to dare attempt any tricks
+upon my guests. Good night, major."
+
+"Good night, colonel."
+
+The door closed. Major Stanley locked it. Having done so, he took a
+survey of the apartment. Besides the door opening into the entry,
+there was another leading to some other room. There was no lock upon
+this second door, but a heavy table, placed across, completely
+barricaded it.
+
+"I am safe," thought the major, "unless there is a storming party of
+ghosts to attack me in my fastness. I think I shall sleep well."
+
+He threw himself into an arm chair before the fire, and watching the
+glowing embers, amused himself with building castles in the air, and
+musing on the attractions of the fair Julia, his host's daughter. He
+was far enough from thinking of spectral visitants, when a very slight
+noise struck on his ear. Glancing in the direction of the inner door,
+he thought he saw the heavy table glide backwards from its place.
+Quick as thought, he caught up a pistol, and challenged the intruder.
+There was no reply--but the door continued to open, and the table to
+slide back. At last there glided into the room a tall, graceful
+figure, robed in white. At the first glance, the blood curdled in the
+major's veins; at the second, he recognized the daughter of his host.
+Her eyes were wide open, and she advanced with an assured step, but it
+was very evident she was asleep. Here was the mystery of the Green
+Chamber solved at once. The young girl walked to the fireplace and
+seated herself in the arm chair from which the soldier had just
+risen. His first impulse was to vacate the room, and go directly and
+alarm the colonel. But, in the first place, he knew not what apartment
+his host occupied, and in the second, curiosity prompted him to watch
+the _denouement_ of this singular scene. Julia raised her left hand,
+and gazing on a beautiful ring that adorned one of her white and taper
+fingers, pressed it repeatedly to her lips. She then sank into an
+attitude of repose, her arms drooping listlessly by her sides.
+
+The major approached her, and stole the ring from her finger. His
+action disturbed, but did not awaken her. She seemed to miss the ring,
+however, and, after groping hopelessly for it, rose and glided through
+the doorway as silently as she had entered. She had no sooner retired
+than the major replaced the table, and drawing a heavy clothes press
+against it, effectually guarded himself against a second intrusion.
+
+This done, he threw himself upon the bed, and slept soundly till a
+late hour of the morning. When he awoke, he sprang out of bed, and ran
+to the window. Every trace of the storm had passed away, and an
+unclouded sun was shining on the radiant landscape. After performing
+the duties of his toilet, he was summoned to breakfast, where he met
+the colonel and his daughter.
+
+"Well, major, and how did you pass the night?" asked the colonel,
+anxiously.
+
+"Famously," replied Stanley. "I slept like a top, as I told you I
+should."
+
+"Then, thank Heaven, the spell is broken at last," said the colonel,
+"and the White Phantom has ceased to haunt the Green Chamber."
+
+"By no means," said the major, smiling; "the White Phantom paid me a
+visit last night, and left me a token of the honor."
+
+"A token!" exclaimed the father and daughter in a breath.
+
+"Yes, my friends, and here it is." And the major handed the ring to
+the old gentleman.
+
+"What's the meaning of this, Julia?" exclaimed the colonel. "This ring
+I gave you last week!"
+
+Julia uttered a faint cry, and turned deadly pale.
+
+"The mystery is easily explained," said the major. "The young lady is
+a sleep-walker. She came into my room before I had retired, utterly
+unconscious of her actions. I took the ring from her hand, that I
+might be able to convince you and her of the reality of what I had
+witnessed."
+
+The major's business was not pressing, and he readily yielded to the
+colonel's urgent request to pass a few days with him. Their mutual
+liking increased upon better acquaintance, and in a few weeks the
+White Phantom's ring, inscribed with the names of Rupert Stanley and
+Julia Rogers, served as the sacred symbol of their union for life.
+
+
+
+
+HE WASN'T A HORSE JOCKEY.
+
+
+It was at the close of a fine, autumnal afternoon, that a
+simple-looking traveller, attired in a homespun suit of gray, and
+wearing a broad-brimmed, Quaker-looking hat, drove up to the door of
+the Spread Eagle Tavern, in the town of B----, State of Maine, kept by
+Major E. Spike, and ordered refreshments for himself and horse. There
+was nothing particular about the traveller, except his air of
+simplicity; but his horse was a character. The animal was at least
+thirty years of age, and was as gaunt as Rosinante, and would have
+been a dear bargain at fifteen dollars. The traveller acknowledged
+that he had been taken in somewhat when he bought the animal, for he
+"wasn't a horse jockey," and "did'nt know much about critters!"
+However, he added, "that if he had good luck in his trip down east,
+[he was agent for a Hartford Life Assurance Company,] he meant to pick
+up something handsome in the way of horse flesh to take home with
+him." After communicating his name and business, and sundry other
+particulars, with a frankness which, while it satisfied the curiosity,
+excited the contempt of Major Spike, the stranger, whom we shall call
+Zebulon Smith, departed.
+
+He had a business call to make on the widow Stebbins, who lived about
+three miles off, in a very old, unfinished, shingled house, of immense
+extent, in the centre of an unfenced lot, the chief products of which
+were rocks, brambles, and barberry bushes.
+
+"Keep much stock, Miss Stebbins?" said he, as, having transacted his
+business, he prepared to resume his journey.
+
+"Why, no," said she; "I'm a lone woman, and hain't got no help; so I
+keep only a cow and that 'ere colt. I wish I could sell him, for I
+ain't got nobody to break him in properly."
+
+Zebulon looked at the colt. He was a limpsey, long-legged, shaggy
+animal, with a ewe-neck, drooping head, and little, undecided tail,
+completely knotted up with burs; but then he was only five years old.
+
+"Heow'll yeou trade, Miss Stebbins?" asked the agent. "I've a mind to
+take the critter, if you'll trade even, though I don't know the pints
+of a horse. I ain't a horse jockey. Heowever, you're a lone woman, and
+I want to oblige you. You hain't got nobody to break the colt for you,
+and here's my hoss would suit you to a T. He's a nice family hoss."
+
+"Heow old is he?" asked Mrs. Stebbins.
+
+"He's _risin'_ six years," said Zebulon, and so he was.
+
+"He looks pretty well along," said the widow. "How much boot will you
+give me?"
+
+"Boot!" exclaimed Zebulon. "O, if you talk about boot, I'm off. I
+ain't no horse jockey, but I know I'm flingin' my hoss--good old
+hoss--away by tradin' even. But generosity and consideration for
+widders--specially good-lookin' ones--was allers a failin' in my
+family."
+
+"I don't know as I had orter," said the widow, thoughtfully; "if Mr.
+Stebbins was alive, you wouldn't get the colt so cheap, for he sot
+every thing by him. He's sot his pedigree down in the births, deaths,
+and marriages, in our family Bible. He allers said, poor man, he was
+goin' to make a great hoss."
+
+"That 'ere was an optical delusion," said the agent; "he warn't never
+a goin' to make a great hoss, and he won't never be a great hoss. I
+know so much, if I ain't a horse jockey. Come, now, what say? Shall I
+ungear, and leave my critter, or put on the string and be a
+travellin'?"
+
+"You may have the colt," said the widow, bursting into tears, and
+retiring, unable to witness the consummation of the sacrifice.
+
+"Come, young Burtail," said Zebulon, addressing the colt. "It's time
+you was sot to work. I don't know whether you ever had a collar over
+your darned ewe-neck or not. I don't see how any thing short of a
+crooked-neck squash could fit it; but I'll try mine on." And with
+these words he harnessed up the colt, and leaving his old "hoss" with
+the widow, drove on his way rejoicing.
+
+About fifteen miles farther east, he stopped and put up at a tavern,
+where he made an arrangement to leave the colt for a week, hiring the
+landlord's horse to pursue his journey. He gave directions to have the
+colt fed high in the interim, to have his tail nicked and put in
+pulleys, his head checked up, and his coat carefully shaved according
+to the new practice. A very astute hostler promised that every thing
+should be done according to his directions, and to his perfect
+satisfaction.
+
+Accordingly, in a week's time, when Zebulon came back, he hardly knew
+his bargain. The colt was fat as a hog. His sides shone like silver;
+his mane was neatly trimmed; his tail was crimped, and rose and fell
+in a graceful curve; and he carried his head as proudly as an Arabian.
+
+With the metamorphosed animal in the fills, the agent drove back to
+the Spread Eagle, and put up for the night. In the morning, he ordered
+his team, and paid his bill. Major Spike, who was great on horses,
+standing at the front door, was struck with the appearance of his
+guest's "cattle."
+
+"Been buying a new hoss?" said the major.
+
+"Yes; I thought I'd try one, though I ain't a horse jockey," answered
+the agent, making an excuse to examine the buckles of his harness.
+
+"Don't want to sell him, do you?" said the major.
+
+"Why, no, major, I reckon not. I expect he'll suit me fust rate. I'm
+doin' pooty well, now, and can afford to hev' somethin' nice. I
+calklate to keep him."
+
+"I don't like his color," said the major.
+
+"Well, I do," said Zebulon, getting into his wagon. "Good mornin',
+major."
+
+"Hold on," said the major. "I've got a hoss I want to show you. Jake,
+bring out the bay, and let Mr. Smith have a squint at him."
+
+The hostler brought out a square-built, chunky, bay horse, in fine
+condition, and looking like a capital roadster.
+
+"What do you think of _that_ hoss, Mr. Smith?" asked the major,
+triumphantly.
+
+"Pretty fair hoss," said the agent. "But I tell you I'm no judge of
+horses; I ain't a horse jockey."
+
+"Well, now, I tell you what," said the major; "I'm a darned fool for
+doin' of it; but when I take a fancy, I don't mind expense to gratify
+it. I'm willing to swap hosses even with you."
+
+"Even!" screamed the agent. "Now, major, that's a good one. I ain't a
+horse jockey. I don't know the value of the critters; but I ain't
+altogether a reg'lar, soft-headed, know-nothin' fool; and if I had a
+mind to part with this 'ere splendiferous animal, I should want boot."
+
+"You're a hard one," said the major; "but as fur as twenty
+dollars----"
+
+"Twenty dollars! get out," said the agent, indignantly. "G'lang, Bob!"
+and he actually started his team.
+
+"Hold on!" roared the major. "What do you want?"
+
+"Say forty, and I'll do it--no, I won't," said the agent.
+
+"You said you would. It's a bargain. You said forty, didn't he, Jake?"
+
+The hostler could not deny it.
+
+"Well, you're the hardest customer _I_ ever see!" muttered the agent,
+as he got out of the wagon. "This is the wust mornin's work I ever
+did. Let me have your old bay, and be a travellin'. You'd hev' a
+fellur's eye teeth afore he knowed it, ef you wanted 'em."
+
+The major chuckled as he counted out forty dollars and handed them to
+the agent. He eagerly assisted the hostler to ungear the coveted
+horse; and when the bay was harnessed up, did not urge the agent to
+stop, and the latter drove off, looking as melancholy as if he had
+buried all his relations.
+
+The major drove out with his new purchase that very day; but his
+performance did not equal his expectations. However, as an experienced
+horse jockey, he knew that great allowances are to be made for a green
+horse, and he promised to train him up to "2.50," at the least. But
+before one week had passed over his head, his expectations were all
+dashed. There was no "go" in the animal. His nose dropped to the
+ground, his tail slunk, and his toes dug into the gravel as if he was
+boring for water. The major had to confess that he had been completely
+taken in.
+
+"That infernal rascal!" said he; "I wish I could catch him here
+again."
+
+"You ain't very likely to," remarked Jake, the hostler, dryly.
+
+"Why so? Do you know any thing about him? Did you ever see him
+before?"
+
+"Ever see him! why, he came from the same place that I did."
+
+"Where's that?"
+
+"Meredith Bridge."
+
+"Meredith Bridge!" exclaimed the landlord. "And he said he wasn't a
+horse jockey. O, what an ass I was."
+
+"Very true," said the hostler.
+
+"Any how, you never saw the horse before?" said the landlord.
+
+"Never see the horse before!" exclaimed Jake. "Why, Lord bless you, I
+know'd him soonsever I sot eyes on him. He's Miss Stebbins's colt."
+
+"And you never told me of this, you scoundrel!"
+
+"I want a goin' to spile a trade," said the hostler. "And then I've
+heard you say so often that nobody could take you in on a hoss, that I
+thought it warnt no use."
+
+"The cussed swindler!" said the major. "After havin' shaved every body
+he came across, he went and shaved a hoss, and put him off on
+me--_me_, the greatest hossman in the State of Maine. The next chap
+from Meredith Bridge that comes into these diggins, I'll get a fight
+out of and lick him, jest as sure as my name's Elnathan Spike!"
+
+
+
+
+FUNERAL SHADOWS.
+
+A MYSTERY.
+
+
+The wind was howling and moaning through the almost deserted streets
+of Boston, on a chilly evening of September, as a young man of medium
+height and slight figure drew a faded and threadbare black cloak
+around him, pulled his fur cap down on his forehead to shelter his
+eyes from the cutting wind, and strode down Washington Street in a
+northerly direction, with a rapid and impatient step. Arrived at the
+door of a house of moderate pretensions, he entered hastily. We shall
+follow him to the third story, enter with him a large and wholly dark
+apartment, and watch him while he kindles a fire on the ample hearth
+stone. A pale-blue flame flickers hesitatingly among the wood, and
+conjures up from the walls around strange shapes and countenances
+bathed in the indistinct and lurid light. And now the flame grows
+brighter, and the heavy furniture in the apartment flings strange
+shadows, horizontal, diagonal, and perpendicular; and the pictures on
+the wall (for we are in a painter's studio) looked quite as vague and
+vapory as the projected shadows. It is not difficult to imagine some
+of these faces endowed with vitality, and so wild and startling are
+many of them that the wavering shadows seem to belong to them, and to
+be their strangely-animated limbs.
+
+The painter lit a lamp, and then a huge meerschaum filled with
+fragrant tobacco, his nightly solace and daily inspiration. While the
+smoke wreaths slowly ascended to the ceiling, he wove his Gothic
+fancies, and saw, in the blue clouds that hovered over him, embryo
+designs and groups that he afterwards transferred to canvas.
+
+Malise Grey was an artist of great but peculiar talent--a fine
+draughtsman, an admirable colorist, but his imagination was of a
+Gothic cast, and he delighted in strange, fantastical, and
+supernatural subjects. He had travelled much in Germany, and his mind
+was imbued with the superstitions and legends of that storied land.
+These he loved to illustrate with his pencil, and his walls were
+covered with German scenes and subjects, from the "Witches' Sabbath"
+to the "Castled Crag of Drachenfels." Portraits he painted from
+necessity, not choice; but he was too true an artist for the million.
+The sleek hypocrite wore not on his canvas the deceptive look of
+holiness that bore him on through life to wealth and honor, but the
+crafty, sensual smile, the libertine eye, and lips that indicated the
+secret phases of his character. Imbecile beauty saw her index in the
+painted mirror. Folly stood convicted by the pencil. It was frequently
+remarked, that you might learn more of a man from a glance at his
+portrait than from months' companionship with the original. Malise
+Grey was not popular--but he lived for his art, and bread and water
+satisfied his earthly cravings.
+
+The meerschaum fairly smoked out, the artist drew from a dusty pile of
+canvases one on which he had painted a family group. It was a fancy
+piece. An old man lay upon his death bed, over which bent a weeping
+wife and a sorrowing and lovely child. The face of the latter was one
+of unearthly beauty, and Raphael or Titian might not have disdained
+the painting of those glistening blue eyes, and the falling sunbeams
+of that golden hair. The painter had poured out his soul upon that
+angelic countenance and perfect figure.
+
+"It is my ideal," said the artist, "and, by the mystic whisper of the
+heart, by the bright teaching of the star that rules my destiny, by
+the forbidden lore of which I have drank deeply, I know that the ideal
+of each mind is the reflex of the actual, and with the true artist
+fancy is existence!"
+
+The meerschaum was again filled, and Malise Grey contemplated his
+picture. The smoke wreaths rolled around it, but it shone out luminous
+and starlike. Its harmony was like the silent melody of the spheres,
+and its musical radiance dispelled the remembrance of all his
+sufferings, and lulled him like the melody of falling waters. When, at
+length, he drew his poor couch from its recess, and threw himself upon
+it, he left the picture full in sight, and continued to watch it by
+the fading firelight till its last luminous point disappeared with the
+blaze, and slumber closed his lids to make its memory brighter.
+
+The next morning was clear and sparkling; the first rays of the sun
+were like fiery rubies on the walls of the studio.
+
+The painter sprang to his feet. "The dream!" he cried. "My heart did
+not deceive me. The spirits are at work for its accomplishment."
+
+He went forth to take his daily walk. There were times when an
+appalling dread of insanity smote his heart, and once the expression
+of a friend at the recital of one of his wildest fantasies led him
+into a train of reflection and self-examination which shook his very
+soul. For a time he forsook his studio, and went abroad into the gay
+world and formed fashionable acquaintances; but he went back to his
+lonely room and his hermit life at the expiration of a few weeks,
+convinced that the madness of art was preferable to the madness of
+society. And it was a painful thing for him to go abroad, for no one
+sympathized with him. His mind dwelt either on the shadowy past, or
+the yet more shadowy future. He held no communion with the present.
+So, on the occasion we have referred to, after a hurried walk, he
+returned to his room, the door of which he had left unlocked. A veiled
+lady sat before his easel. She rose upon his entrance. His heart beat
+high with anticipations. The lady thus addressed him:--
+
+"Malise Grey, we have known each other in the land of dreams!" and
+removing her veil, she pointed with her left hand to the picture,
+while she extended her right to the painter. The ideal and the actual
+stood before him. A strange light gleamed upon the painter's mind, and
+he spoke as if prompted by some unseen power.
+
+"Esther Vaughan, by this token do I know you." He took her hand, and
+added, "By the mystic spell that drew us to each other, I conjure you
+here to plight your troth to me for weal and woe."
+
+"My father died shortly after that picture was painted," replied the
+maiden, "and my mother--my poor mother--soon followed him. The spirit
+summons commanded me to seek you out. I have obeyed."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A strange marriage was solemnized in the Old King's Chapel. The bride
+wore no rose or orange flower in her braided hair, and a long, black
+veil enveloped her from head to foot. In fact, her entire raiment, and
+that of the bridegroom, was of the same ghastly hue; and the ceremony
+was performed beneath the light of torches, which threw their funeral
+glare upon the mortuary tablets and reliefs that decorate the interior
+of the sacred edifice. As the newly-married pair were about to step
+into the carriage at the door, a thin figure in black approached the
+bride, and laid its hand upon her arm. The countenance was not
+visible. The bride uttered a sharp cry of pain and terror, and the
+figure instantly stepped back.
+
+"Hold up your torch, there, sexton," cried the painter; "some one has
+insulted the bride."
+
+A tall figure was seen stealing away through the tombstones in the
+churchyard, to which he had probably gained access through a breach in
+the wall, at that time wholly ruinous.
+
+It is not our intention to describe the happiness of Malise Grey and
+his strangely-found and strangely-wedded bride. Enough to say, it was
+like all the circumstances that composed his existence--dream-like and
+strange. So vivid were his dreams and reveries, that he often wondered
+whether they were not the actual, and his marriage life the imaginary,
+part of his existence. He could not give himself up to enjoyment; and
+sometimes, when his young wife would have lavished on him the wealth
+of her innocent caresses, he turned from her moodily, and muttered,
+"What have I to do with a spirit bride? When the sun rises, these
+shadows will disperse."
+
+Esther Grey had often solicited her husband to paint her portrait,
+since the likeness in the family picture showed her under the
+influence of grief. She wished a record of her happiness. Grey set
+about complying with her request. He assumed the task in a moment of
+inspired and fresh feeling, and went to work with heart and soul. His
+sketch was instantaneously executed, and then
+
+    "His touches they flew like leaves in a storm;
+    And the pure pearly white, and the carnation warm,
+    Contending in harmony, glowed."
+
+Suddenly he threw down his pencil, and paced the apartment to and fro
+with rapid strides. "The doomed look!" he muttered, "the doomed look!
+Esther, I can paint no more to-day."
+
+But the morrow found him early at his task. A few hours' work
+completed a portrait which, for fidelity of likeness, harmony of
+accessories, and felicity of coloring, was almost unsurpassable. Yet
+the painter refused to have it framed, and concealed it from view
+behind a curtain in his studio.
+
+A day or two afterwards, a stranger called upon the artist. He was a
+tall, thin man, attired in a threadbare suit of black bombazine. He
+was frightfully pale. His jaws were prominent, and the sallow,
+shrunken skin clung close to every muscle of his countenance. His
+dark, sunken, and glossy eyes had an unearthly expression, and his air
+was melancholy in the extreme. A nameless chill came over the painter
+as he surveyed the aspect of his unknown visitor. The stranger coldly
+surveyed the productions of the artist, and honored them with a few
+brief comments. At length he paused before the veiled picture, and
+said, "This picture of your wife belongs to me."
+
+The painter was so strong a believer in the supernatural, had been
+subject to so many inexplicable influences, that he felt no surprise
+at the stranger's naming the subject of the veiled picture without
+uncovering it. But he repeated, sternly, "Belongs to you? What mean
+you by that remark?"
+
+"I mean it is, or will be mine, by purchase."
+
+"Not so."
+
+"Then you will not sell it?"
+
+"I will not part with it at any price."
+
+The stranger smiled, but not sneeringly or sarcastically The
+expression of his countenance was mournful in the extreme, and
+likewise unpleasant, because the parting of his shrivelled lips
+displayed his large, yellow teeth in unpleasant relief. He opened the
+door, but paused upon the threshold.
+
+"You will not part with it?"
+
+"Once more, no!" replied the painter.
+
+"No matter; the original will soon be mine."
+
+The door closed rapidly behind his noiseless steps. A vague terror
+shot through the soul of the artist.
+
+When Esther Vaughan came to the dwelling of the painter, she was
+radiant with a health which had triumphed over sorrow and long
+watching, but the seeds of disease now fastened upon her frame, and
+she sunk under its influence, growing daily feebler. The almost
+distracted husband employed the best physicians in the city, and under
+their efforts Esther, for a while, seemed to revive. One day, in
+solemn conclave, they decided that the patient would live, and
+announced the intelligence to the poor painter, as he sat in his
+lonely studio, with much pomposity and emphasis. At the time of this
+announcement, the painter was standing opposite the open door through
+which the physicians had just entered. At the moment when a smile of
+gratified love was lighting up his intelligent countenance, his eyes,
+looking beyond the group of visitors, caught in the corridor those of
+the strange bidder for the veiled picture. The unknown shook his head
+slowly and mournfully, then turned and retired.
+
+"Stop him, gentlemen," cried the painter, bursting through the group
+of leeches; "he is a deadly enemy!"
+
+The physicians looked at each other, smiled darkly, and shook their
+heads.
+
+"Poor Grey!" said an old doctor.
+
+"Mad?" asked the youngest of the group.
+
+"The cell, the chain, and scourge would be a wholesome prescription,"
+said the first speaker.
+
+Such were the tender mercies of science to madness in the eighteenth
+century.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a hushed midsummer night. The hum of busy footsteps had long
+since died away, and the twinkling lights had faded, one by one, from
+the huge bulk of the metropolis. To the lonely night watcher, there
+was enough of light in the mild effulgence of the moon to distinguish
+whether the pale invalid woke or slumbered; whether the repose of the
+dead was inviolate, or invaded by noisome things that move abroad only
+in darkness. And midway between life and death, so motionless that you
+would say she belonged to the dark realm of the latter, so lovely that
+the former still seemed to claim her own, lay the earth-born love of
+the painter, with her ethereal essence yet hovering near the beloved
+of her soul. The painter sat by the bedside, with her thin, pale hand
+clasped in his. He had listened to her last accents; he had heard her
+call him, in the fervor of her affection, "her beautiful, her own;"
+and he knew that, ere the unseen clock had recorded the death of
+another hour, the feeble pulse that fluttered beneath his fingers
+would have ceased to beat. Yet, with all this, his eyes were tearless,
+and his heart less heavy than in those dark dreams which had
+foreshadowed this event. In weal or woe, his prophetic dreams seemed
+even more impressive than the realities which followed them.
+
+It appeared as if there were a magnetic influence in the touch of the
+dying hand; that the soul of Esther, bathed in the dawning light of
+the better world, had communicated a portion of its brightness to his
+own. So the hours wore on; the feeble pulse yet beat, but fainter and
+fainter. At last, through the open window which commanded a view of
+the east, the brightening streaks of dawn appeared; in the leaves of a
+solitary tree, that stood amid a wilderness of brick hard by, was
+heard the faint, tremulous twitter of a bird waiting but a ruddier ray
+to launch forth upon his dewy pinions. A smile, like a ray of light,
+dawned upon the countenance of Esther. She pointed to a shadowy alcove
+in the chamber, and the painter's eye, following the indication,
+detected the figure of his mysterious and prophetic visitor. But the
+countenance of the unknown was milder, softer; a veil of brightness
+had fallen upon the more repulsive lineaments, and when the broad
+daylight beamed into the apartment, his image melted into the ray,
+like a rain-drop into a sunny sea. A thrill ran through the painter's
+frame; he gazed upon the face of Esther; it was that of death.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+An unfinished painting rests upon an easel; it is a glimpse of
+paradise. In the centre is a focus of almost intolerable splendor, the
+luminous veil of the Inconceivable and Infinite; while towards it, as
+if drawn by a vortex of glory, yet held in suspense when too near,
+hovers a cloud of radiant forms and faces, their souls, pure and
+beatified, beaming from their countenances, all full of adoration,
+intelligence, and bliss. The painter sat before it, giving the last
+touches with a feeble yet graceful hand. A light seemed to stream upon
+him from the picture, and lit up his pale, inspired countenance.
+
+The door opened, yet the painter turned not from his task; he heard no
+footstep, yet he knew that the messenger--no longer feared, but hoped
+for--was standing at his side.
+
+"One touch more," he said, softly. "Thus 'tis done, and bravely done!"
+
+He turned--the mysterious messenger was truly there. But as the
+painter gazed, the herald's form was transfigured; his poor garments
+had given place to shining raiments; his countenance beamed glory and
+goodness; effulgent wings expanded their snowy plumage from his
+glorious shoulders, and on his forehead shone a star like that of
+morning. He touched the mortal hand that throbbed to meet his clasp;
+the last film fell from the painter's eye, and he saw, with ecstasy,
+no horrid phantom, but AZRAEL, the Angel of Death, great,
+beautiful, and good.
+
+
+
+
+THE LATE ELIAS MUGGS,
+
+CAPTAIN IN THE M. V. M.
+
+
+Elias Muggs is no more! Hepzibah Muggs is a widow; a stranger has
+purchased the stock of West India goods, and the Bluetown Fusileers
+are commanded by the first lieutenant. These are sad changes.
+
+It is not a little remarkable that though Captain Elias Muggs was not
+born in the same year as the Duke of Wellington, (though, by the way,
+every body else seems to have been,) yet he died about the same time.
+There was a striking similarity between their characters and
+positions. The Iron Duke was commander-in-chief of the allied forces
+at the battle of Waterloo, and Elias Muggs was commander of the
+Bluetown Fusileers. If Elias Muggs had been born on the other side of
+the water, he probably would have been the Duke of Wellington; and if
+the Duke of Wellington had been born here, he would probably have been
+Elias Muggs. This proposition may appear a metaphysical subtlety to
+obtuse minds, but to ours it seems as clear as mud.
+
+When such a man dies, he must not be permitted to depart
+
+    "Without the meed of one melodious tear."
+
+His loss is a national loss. Nature seems to have intended him for
+President of the United States, but "left him two drinks behind;"
+whence we may conclude that Nature is a humbug, a conclusion
+practically arrived at by most artists, living and dead.
+
+Elias Muggs, from his tenderest years, was devoted to groceries and
+glory. His venerable schoolmistress, who has outlived her illustrious
+pupil, and is now supported by the town whose founders were formed by
+her care, and who laid the foundation of our hero's greatness by the
+powerful application of birch at the seat of learning, assured us, in
+a recent interview, that the military propensities of Muggs were
+developed at an early age. She observed that it was impossible to fix
+his attention on the classic page of Noah Webster when the Bluetown
+Fusileers were passing the school house with drum and fife, and that
+the motive of his first experiment at "hooking jack" was a desire to
+attend a country muster in the neighboring town. She added, that she
+distinctly remembered having confiscated a box of tin soldiers with
+which he was amusing himself, and that he threatened to "punch her
+eye" if she did not release the unconscious prisoners of war on
+_parole_. These are very important facts.
+
+We are unable to state the precise age at which Elias entered the
+service--but the town clerk of Bluetown places it at twenty-one. He
+went through the different grades with great rapidity, and was finally
+chosen captain in a warmly-contested election. There is no question
+that he would have been elected unanimously, without difficulty, had
+there not existed a great doubt in the _corps_ (Captain Muggs, by the
+way, always pronounced this word, and spelled it, _corpse_) of his
+ability to "treat;" whereas his adversary was distinguished for
+possessing a "pocket full of rocks," and a willingness "to treat every
+body." The success of our hero, under the circumstances, was purely
+owing to military merit. The moment he was chosen, he took the field
+at the head of his command. Admiring Bluetown gazed approvingly upon
+his swallow-tailed coat, his tall plume, his shining battle blade, his
+plated scabbard, worsted sash, and low-heeled, cowhide boots. The
+fair, who are ever ready to award their smiles to chivalry, were
+unanimous in their approval, and Deacon Dogget's daughter was heard to
+murmur, "O, what a pooty soger 'lias makes!" "Upon this hint he spake"
+a few days afterwards, and in due time they were married. But enough
+of that--our essay treats of war, not love.
+
+In his "first field," Captain Muggs displayed his extraordinary
+knowledge of tactics. He it was who first discovered the method of
+"dressing" a line, by backing it up against a curbstone. He also
+divested military science of many pedantic terms, which tend only to
+confuse the young conscript, and dampen the military ardor of the
+patriot soldier. He substituted the brief and soldierly words of
+command, "haw!" "gee!" and "whoa!" for "left," "right," and "halt."
+His spirited "let her rip!" was an infinite improvement on the "fire"
+of the Steuben manual. The object of the commander is to make himself
+understood readily by his men, and in this Captain Muggs was perfectly
+successful.
+
+The greatest commanders have been famous for their terse eloquence.
+Napoleon said to his troops in Egypt, "Soldiers, from the summit of
+these pyramids twenty centuries look down on you this day." Scott, in
+Mexico, said to Smith's brigade, "Brave rifles, you have been baptized
+in fire, and have come out steel." And Muggs, at Bluetown, after the
+last manoeuvre, said, "Feller sogers, that 'ere was prime--and now
+less adjourn to the tavern and likker up at my expense." It is
+questionable whether any speech of Napoleon or Scott ever excited more
+enthusiasm.
+
+The company adjourned to the tavern, and after plentifully refreshing
+with long nines, pigtail, New England, and crackers, departed with
+three cheers for the "cap'n." We would fain draw a veil over what
+followed. But a strict regard for truth compels us to "speak right out
+in meetin'." All great men have their weaknesses. Caesar was not
+immaculate. Alexander the Great died of _mania a potu_. There was no
+Maine liquor law at the time of which we speak. There was not even a
+temperance society in all Bluetown.
+
+Captain Muggs was in the green and salad days of youth. He was flushed
+with military success, young, ardent, and imprudent.
+
+He retired to a private room with the commissioned officers of his
+"corps," and left a liberal order at the bar. Healths were drank,
+songs sung, patriotic and otherwise, more otherwise than patriotic,
+and the "fast and furious" fun was driven into the small hours of the
+morning. When the bill was presented, Captain Muggs was without funds;
+and his gallant subordinates, on the bare suggestion of a loan,
+incontinently vanished. Captain Muggs intimated something about
+credit. The landlord shook his head. Captain Muggs was grieved, and
+the landlord consulted the flytraps on the ceiling, still extending
+his open hand, with the palm upwards, in the direction of the officer.
+Finding the publican obdurate, the captain proposed to leave his
+uniform and equipments in pawn, and the offer was accepted.
+
+And here let us pause to contemplate the moral greatness of this act.
+Those insignia of rank were as dear to Muggs as the apple of his eye.
+They were to him what the sceptre and crown were to Napoleon. It was
+like tugging at his heartstrings to unfasten the belt and sash, and
+lay the sword upon the table. Marsyas suffered not more when Apollo
+removed his skin than Muggs did when the landlord stripped off his
+coat and epaulets. When the hat and plume were laid upon the altar of
+offended Mammon, Muggs uttered a deep groan, and departed in his shirt
+sleeves. If we were a great historical painter, we should prefer this
+subject to that of Washington resigning his commission as
+commander-in-chief of the revolutionary army.
+
+The same integrity distinguished Captain Muggs throughout his life.
+When, some years afterwards, he received a letter from a lawyer,
+stating that, in case he did not immediately satisfy a certain claim
+of five years' standing, legal measures would be adopted to enforce
+payment, he remitted the sum in question without a murmur.
+
+Personal courage is not deemed indispensable to great commanders.
+Marlborough is said to have trembled on the battle field. It is the
+part of the officer to command--of the men to execute. But Muggs was
+as valiant as he was wise. On a field day, when a certain turbulent
+apple woman persisted in encroaching on the lines, Captain Muggs
+charged her in person, unsupported by his troops, upset her apple
+stall, and expelled her from the lines. Such achievements are of rare
+occurrence.
+
+On every parade day, Muggs was "thar." In every sham fight he was
+first and foremost. He was always loudest in proclaiming the "dooty of
+the milingtary to support the civil power." Yet in the great riot
+caused by the illegal impounding of Steve Gubbins's bull, when
+Bluetown was divided against itself, her constabulary force and
+"specials" ignominiously beaten and routed, Captain Muggs, with an
+heroic deafness to the call of glory and the selectmen, from a
+reluctance to shed the blood of his fellow-citizens, refused to call
+out his company, and concealed himself in a hayloft till the affray
+was over, the pound completely demolished, and the bull rescued from
+the minions of the law.
+
+The loss of such a man is irreparable. What a president he would have
+made! Magnanimity, self-denial, punctuality, eloquence, popularity,
+military glory--why, he had all the elements of success. But our
+heroes are fast passing away. Muggs is gone, and we must make up our
+minds to be governed by mere statesmen!
+
+
+
+
+THE SOLDIER'S WIFE.
+
+
+It was a fine night in the autumn of the year 1805, and the stars
+shone as brilliantly over the gay city of Paris as if they had burned
+in an Italian heaven. The cumbrous mass of the palace of the
+Tuileries, instead of lying like a dark leviathan in the shadows of
+the night, blazed with light in all its many-windowed length; for the
+soldier emperor, the idol of his subjects, that night gave a grand
+ball and reception to the world. Troops in full uniform were under
+arms, and the great lamps of the court yard gazed brightly on the
+channelled bayonets and polished musket barrels of the sentinels.
+Carriage after carriage drew up at the great portal, and emitted
+beautiful ladies, brilliantly attired, and marshals and staff officers
+blazing with embroidery; for Napoleon, simple and unostentatious in
+his own person, well knew the importance of surrounding himself with a
+brilliant court; and the people, even the rude and ragged denizens of
+the Faubourgs St. Antoine and St. Marceau, as they hung upon the iron
+railing and scanned the splendid dresses of the guests as they
+alighted from their carriages, were well pleased to see that a throne
+created by themselves could vie in splendor with the old hereditary
+seats of loyalty that existed in spite of the execrations of the
+million. They marked with pleasure the arms of some of the ancient
+Bourbon nobility on the panels of some of the glittering equipages,
+for all the aristocracy of France had not joined the banners of her
+adversaries.
+
+Within the walls of the palace, in the reception room, the scene was
+yet more dazzling. The draperies of the throne, at the foot of which
+stood Josephine, more impressive from her native and winning
+loveliness than the splendor of the priceless diamonds that decked her
+brow and neck, and the emperor in the simple attire of a gentleman,
+with no distinctive ornament save the grand cross of the Legion of
+Honor: the draperies of the throne, we say, no longer presented the
+golden lilies of the Bourbon, but the golden bees of Napoleon--symbols
+of the industry and perseverance which had raised him to his rank. The
+eye, as it roamed around the brilliant circle, encountered few of
+those vapid faces which make the staple of the surroundings of an
+hereditary throne. Every epaulet that sparkled there graced the
+shoulder of a man who had won his grade by exposure, gallantry, and
+intellect. There was the scarred veteran of the Sambre and the Meuse,
+heroes who had crossed "that terrible bridge of Lodi" in the path of
+the French tricolor and the face of the withering fire of Austrian
+batteries--dim eyes that had been blighted by the burning sands of
+Egypt, warriors who had braved the perils of the Alps, and the dangers
+of the plains of Lombardy.
+
+Somewhat apart from the brilliant circle, in the embrasure of one of
+the deep and lofty windows, stood a young officer, in conversation
+with a beautiful young woman. The latter was attired in white satin,
+and the rich lace veil that half hid the orange flower in her hair,
+and descended gracefully over her faultless shoulders, proclaimed her
+to be a bride. And the young soldier, her companion? The radiant pride
+and joy that beamed from his fine dark eye, the animation of his
+manner, and the tenderness of his tone, as he addressed the lady,
+emphatically proclaimed the bridegroom. Such, indeed, were the
+relations of Colonel Lioncourt and Leonide Lasalle, who had that day
+only lost her maiden appellation at the altar of Notre Dame.
+
+So absorbed was the young colonel in the conversation, that it was
+only after he had been twice addressed that he turned and noticed the
+proximity of a third person.
+
+"Sorry to interrupt you, colonel," said the new comer, a young man
+with dark lowering brows, deep-set eyes, and a sinister expression,
+heightened by a sabre cut that traversed his left cheek diagonally,
+"but his majesty desires to speak to you."
+
+"_Au revoir_, Leonide," said the young colonel to his bride; "I will
+join you again in a few moments. The emperor is laconic enough in his
+communications. Meanwhile, I leave you to the care of my friend."
+
+The emperor was already impatient, and the moment the colonel appeared
+he grasped his arm familiarly, and led him aside, while the immediate
+group of courtiers fell back respectfully, and out of earshot.
+
+"Colonel," said Napoleon, "I have news--great news. The enemies of
+France will not give us a moment's repose. It is no longer England
+alone that threatens us. I could have crushed England, had she met me
+single handed. In a month my eagles would have lighted on the tower of
+London. Russia, Austria, and Sweden have joined her. Our frontier is
+threatened by half a million men. Lioncourt, you are brave and trusty,
+and I will tell you what I dare communicate to few. My movements must
+be as secret as the grave. Paris must not suspect them. What do you
+think I propose doing?"
+
+"To strengthen the frontier by concentrating your troops on different
+points, sire."
+
+Napoleon smiled.
+
+"No, Lioncourt; we will beard the lion in his den. I have broken up
+the camp at Boulogne. I will rush at once into the heart of Germany. I
+will separate the enemy's columns from each other. The first division
+that marches against me shall be outflanked, attacked in the rear, and
+cut to pieces. One after another they shall fall before me. In three
+months I shall triumph over the coalition. I shall dictate terms of
+peace from the field of battle. Lioncourt, they are short sighted.
+They know nothing of me yet. They fancy that my heart is engaged in
+these frivolous pomps and gayeties with which I amuse the people--that
+I have become enervated by 'Capuan delights.' But you know me better.
+You know that my throne is the back of my war horse--that the sword is
+my sceptre, cannon my diplomatists. I wished for peace--they have
+elected war; on their heads be the guilt and the bloodshed."
+
+He paused, out of breath with the rapidity of his utterance. Colonel
+Lioncourt waited respectfully till he should recommence.
+
+"Colonel," he said, at last, in a tone of sadness, a melancholy shade
+passing over his fine features, "they have described me as a
+sanguinary monster. History will do me justice. History will attest
+that I never drew the sword without just cause--that I returned it to
+its scabbard on the earliest opportunity. Not on my soul the guilt of
+slaughtered thousands, of villages burned, of peasants driven from
+their homes, of fields ravaged, of women widowed, and children
+orphaned. My whole soul yearns for peace. I would build my true
+greatness on the promulgation of just laws, the culture of religion
+and intellect, the triumphs of agriculture, and the arts of peace. But
+I must obey my destiny. Europe must be ploughed by the sword. The
+struggle is between civilization and barbarism, freedom and despotism,
+the Frank and the Cossack. But I prate too long. Colonel, I sent for
+you to pronounce a hard sentence. Your regiment of hussars is already
+under arms. You must march to-night--instantly."
+
+"Sire," said Lioncourt, with a sigh. "This news will kill my poor
+wife."
+
+"Josephine shall console her," said the emperor. "I would have
+informed you earlier, but St. Eustache, your lieutenant colonel, whom
+I now see talking with madame, advised me not to do so."
+
+"I thank him," muttered Lioncourt bitterly.
+
+"You have no time to lose. I counsel you to leave the presence
+quietly. Let your wife learn that you have marched by a letter. Better
+that than the agony of parting. I know something of human, and
+particularly feminine, nature. Adieu, colonel. Courage and good
+fortune."
+
+And so saying, the emperor glided easily back to the circle he had
+left. Lioncourt's brain reeled under the blow he had received. He
+gazed upon his wife as she stood radiant, beautiful, and unsuspicious,
+under a glittering chandelier, with the same feelings with which a man
+takes his last look of the shore as he sinks forever in the
+treacherous wave. In another moment he was gone. The sentries
+presented arms as he passed out of the palace. His orderly was in the
+court yard holding his charger by the bridle. The colonel threw
+himself into the saddle, and was soon at the head of the regiment. The
+trumpets and kettledrums were mute--for such were the general orders
+and the regiment rode out of the city in silence, broken only by the
+heavy tramping of the horses' hoofs, and the clanking of scabbards
+rebounding from their flanks. As they passed out of one of the gates,
+the lieutenant colonel, St. Eustache, joined the column at a gallop,
+and reported to his commander.
+
+St. Eustache had been a lover of Leonide Lasalle, had proposed for her
+hand, and been rejected. Still, he had not utterly ceased to love her,
+but his desire of possession was now mingled with a thirst of
+vengeance. He both hated and loved the beautiful Leonide, while he
+regarded his fortunate rival and commanding officer with feelings of
+unmitigated hatred. Yet he had art enough to conceal his guilty
+feelings and guilty projects. While he rode beside the colonel, his
+thoughts ran somewhat in this vein:--
+
+"Well, at least I have succeeded in marring their joy. Lioncourt's
+triumph over me was short lived. He may never see his bride again. He
+is venturesome and rash. We have sharp work before us, or I'm very
+much mistaken, and Colonel Eugene Lioncourt may figure in the list of
+killed in the first general engagement. Then I renew my suit, and if
+Leonide again reject me, there's no virtue in determination."
+
+While the colonel's regiment was slowly pursuing its way, the
+festivities at the Tuileries were drawing to a close. Madame Lioncourt
+wondered very much at the absence of her husband, and still more so
+when the guests began to depart, and he did not reappear to escort her
+to her carriage. It was then that the empress honored her with an
+interview, and, with tears in her beautiful eyes, informed her of her
+husband's march in obedience to orders. The poor lady bore bravely up
+against the effect of this intelligence so long as she was in the
+presence of the emperor and empress; but when alone in her carriage,
+on her way to her now solitary home, she burst into a flood of tears,
+and it seemed as if her very heart were breaking. The next morning
+brought a short but kind note from her husband. It was overflowing
+with affection and full of hope. The campaign, conducted by Napoleon's
+genius, he thought, could not fail to be brief, and he should return
+with new laurels, to lay them at the feet of his lovely bride. This
+little note was treasured up by Leonide as if it had been the relic of
+a saint, and its words of love and promise cheered her day after day
+in the absence of her husband.
+
+At last, news came to the capital from the seat of war. The battle of
+Austerlitz had been fought and won. The cannon thundered from the
+Invalides, Paris blazed with illuminations, and the steeples reeled
+with the crashing peals of the joy bells. No particulars came at
+first; many had been killed and wounded; but the French eagles were
+victorious, and this was all the people at first cared for.
+Lioncourt's regiment had covered itself with glory, but no special
+mention was made of him in the first despatches.
+
+At last, one morning, a visitor was announced to Madame Lioncourt, and
+she hastily descended to her salon to receive him. St. Eustache
+advanced to meet her. She eagerly scanned his countenance as he held
+out his hand. It was grave and sombre. A second glance showed her a
+black crape sword knot on the hilt of his sabre. She fainted and sank
+upon the floor before St. Eustache could catch her in his arms. He
+summoned her maid, and the latter, with the assistance of another
+servant, bore her mistress from the apartment.
+
+St. Eustache paced the room to and fro, occasionally raising his eyes
+to contemplate the rich gilded ceiling, the paintings and statuettes,
+which adorned the _salon_.
+
+"Some style here!" he muttered. "And they say she has this in her own
+right. Lioncourt left her some funds, I fancy. Young, beautiful, rich;
+by Jove, she is a prize."
+
+His meditations were interrupted by the return of Madame Lioncourt,
+who motioned her visitor to be seated, and sank into a _fauteuil_
+herself. She was pale as marble, and her eyes were red with recent
+tears, but her voice was calm and firm as she said,--
+
+"I need hardly ask you, sir, if my poor husband has fallen. I could
+read ill news in your countenance as soon as you appeared. Were you
+near him when he fell?"
+
+"I was beside him, madame. We were charging the flying Russians. Our
+horses, maddened with excitement, had carried us far in advance of our
+column, when suddenly we were surrounded by a group of horsemen, who
+took courage and rallied for a moment. Lioncourt was carrying death in
+every blow he dealt, when a Russian cavalry officer, discharging his
+pistol at point blank distance, shot him dead from the saddle. I saw
+no more, for I was myself wounded and swept away in the torrent of the
+fight. But he is dead. Even if that pistol shot had not slain him, the
+hoofs of his own troopers, as they rushed madly forward in pursuit of
+the enemy, would have trampled every spark of life out of his bosom."
+
+Leonide wrung her hands.
+
+"But you, at least, recovered his--his remains?"
+
+"Pardon, madame. I instituted a search for our colonel's body where he
+fell. But the spot had already been visited by marauders. All the
+insignia of rank had disappeared; and in the mangled heap of stripped
+and mutilated corpses, it was impossible to distinguish friend from
+foe."
+
+The widowed bride groaned deeply as she covered her face with her
+handkerchief and rocked to and fro on her seat.
+
+"Madame," said St. Eustache, "I will no longer intrude upon your
+grief. When time has somewhat assuaged the poignancy of your
+affliction, I will again call on you to tender my respectful
+sympathies."
+
+Time wore on, and with it brought those alleviations it affords to
+even the keenest sorrow. The assiduity of friends compelled Madame
+Lioncourt to lay aside her widow's weeds, and reappear in the great
+world of fashion. There, whatever may have been her secret sorrow, she
+learned to wear the mask of a smiling exterior, and even to appear
+gayest among the gay, as if she sought forgetfulness in the wildest
+excitement and most frivolous amusement.
+
+During all this time, St. Eustache, who had got a military appointment
+at Paris, was ever at her side. It was impossible for her to avoid
+him. He escorted her to her carriage when she left a ball room; he was
+the first to claim her hand when she entered. He was so respectful, so
+sad, so humble, that it was impossible to take offence at his
+assiduities, and she even began to like him in spite of former
+prejudices. Though it was evident that the freedom of her hand had
+renewed his former hopes, still no words of his ever betrayed their
+revival; only sometimes a suppressed sigh, the trembling of his hand
+as it touched hers, gave evidence that could not be mistaken.
+
+Affairs were in this condition, when a brother of Leonide, Alfred
+Lasalle, a young advocate from the provinces, came to establish
+himself in Paris. He at once became the protector and guardian of his
+sister, and, as such, conceived the same violent dislike to St.
+Eustache that Leonide had formerly entertained towards him. St.
+Eustache, after many fruitless attempts to conciliate the brother,
+gave it up in despair. Still, whenever Alfred's affairs called him
+away, he supplied his place with the young widow.
+
+At this time, play sometimes ran very high in the salons of the
+capital; and Leonide rose from the _ecarte_ table one night, indebted
+to St. Eustache in the sum of a thousand crowns.
+
+"Call on me to-morrow," said Leonide, with a flushed face, "and I will
+repay you."
+
+St. Eustache was pretty well acquainted with the affairs of the young
+widow. He knew that she had been living on her capital for some time,
+and that she had reached the limit of her resources. He knew that it
+was utterly impossible for her to raise a thousand crowns in
+twenty-four hours. She must, therefore, he thought, cancel her debt by
+her hand. This was the alternative to which he had been manoeuvring
+to bring her; therefore he entered her salon the next day with the air
+of a victor. He was no longer covetous of wealth; he had prospered in
+his own speculations, and was immensely rich; the hand of Leonide,
+even without her heart, was now all he sought.
+
+Madame Lioncourt received him with the easy assurance of a woman of
+the world. He, on his part, advanced with the grace of a French
+courtier.
+
+"You came to remind me, sir," said the lady, "that I was unfortunate
+at play last night."
+
+"No, madame," said St. Eustache, "it is yourself who reminds me of it.
+Pardon me, I am somewhat acquainted with your circumstances. I know
+that you are no longer as rich as you are beautiful----"
+
+"Sir!"
+
+"Pardon the allusion, madam; I did not intend to insult you, but only
+to suggest that the payment of money was not the only method of
+cancelling a debt."
+
+"I do not understand you, sir."
+
+"Leonide, it is time that you did understand me!" cried St. Eustache,
+impetuously. "It is time that I should throw off the mask and assert
+my claim to your hand. I loved you once--I love you still. You are now
+in my power. You cannot pay me the money you owe me; but you can make
+me happy. Your hand----"
+
+"Colonel St. Eustache," said the lady, coldly, as she rose and handed
+him a pocket book, "be good enough to count those notes."
+
+St. Eustache ran over them hastily.
+
+"A thousand crowns, madame," he said.
+
+"Then the debt is cancelled. Never renew the proposal of this morning.
+Good day, sir."
+
+With a haughty inclination of the head, she swept out of the room.
+
+"Never renew the proposal of this morning!" said St. Eustache to
+himself. "A thousand furies! It shall be renewed to-night. She will be
+at the masquerade at the opera house. I have bribed her chambermaid,
+and know her dress. She shall hear me plead my suit. I have dared too
+much, perilled too much, to give her up so easily."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Amidst the gay crowd at the opera house was a light figure in a pink
+domino, attended by one in black. Not to make a mystery of these
+characters, they were Madame Lioncourt and her brother.
+
+"Dear Alfred," said the lady, "I am afraid you impoverished yourself
+to aid me in extricating myself from the toils of my persevering
+suitor."
+
+"Say nothing of it, Leonide," replied Alfred. "Your liberty is cheaply
+purchased by the sacrifice."
+
+"Lady, one word with you," said a low voice at her side.
+
+She turned, and beheld a pilgrim with scrip, staff, and cross, and
+closely masked.
+
+"Twenty, if you will, reverend sir," she replied gayly. "But methinks
+this is a strange scene for one of your solemn vocation."
+
+"The true man," replied the mask, "finds something to interest him in
+every scene of life. Wherever men and women assemble in crowds, there
+is always an opportunity for counsel and consolation. The pious
+pilgrim should console the sad; and are not the saddest hearts found
+in the gayest throngs?"
+
+"True, true," replied Leonide, with a deep sigh.
+
+"But you, at least, are happy, lady," said the pilgrim.
+
+"Happy! Could you see my face, you would see a mask more impenetrable
+than this velvet one I wear. It is all smiles," she whispered. "But,"
+she added, laying her hand on her bosom,--
+
+    "'I have a silent sorrow here,
+      A grief I'll ne'er impart;
+    It heaves no sigh, it sheds no tear,
+      But it consumes my heart.'"
+
+"Can it be possible!" cried the pilgrim. "You have the reputation of
+being one of the gayest of the Parisian ladies."
+
+"Then you know me not."
+
+"I know you by name, Madame Lioncourt."
+
+"Then you should know that name represents a noble and gallant
+heart--the life of my own widowed bosom. You should know that
+Lioncourt, the bravest of the brave, the truest of the true, lies in
+a nameless grave at Austerlitz, the very spot unknown."
+
+"I too was at Austerlitz," said the pilgrim, in a deep voice.
+
+"You were at Austerlitz!"
+
+"Yes, madame, in the--hussars."
+
+"It was my husband's regiment."
+
+"Yes, madame. I was for a long time supposed to be dead. My comrades
+saw me fall, and I was reported for dead. Faith, I came near dying.
+But I fell into the hands of some good people, though they were
+Austrians, and they took good care of me, and cured my wounds; and
+here I am at last."
+
+"Ah! why," exclaimed Madame Lioncourt, "may this not have been the
+fate of your colonel? Why may not he too have survived the carnage,
+and been preserved in the same manner? His body was never recognized."
+
+"Very possibly Lioncourt may still be living."
+
+"Yet St. Eustache told me he was dead."
+
+"He is a false traitor!" cried the pilgrim. "Leonide!" cried he, with
+thrilling emphasis, "you have borne bad news; can you bear good?"
+
+"God will give me strength to bear good tidings," cried the lady.
+
+"Then arm yourself with all your energy," said the stranger.
+"Lioncourt lives."
+
+"Lives!" said Leonide, faintly, grasping the arm of the stranger to
+support herself from falling.
+
+"Courage, madame; I tell you the truth. He lives."
+
+"Then take me to him. The crisis is past. I can bear to meet him;
+nothing but delay will kill me now!" cried the lady, hurriedly.
+
+"He stands beside you!" said the stranger.
+
+A long, deep sigh, and Leonide lay in the arms of the pilgrim, who was
+still masked. But she recovered herself with superhuman energy, and
+said,--
+
+"Come, come, I must see you. I must kneel at your feet. I must clasp
+your hands; my joy--my love--my life!"
+
+"Room, room, there!" cried a seneschal. "The emperor!"
+
+"Dearest Leonide," whispered a voice in her ear, "I resolved to see
+you again to-night, in spite of your prohibition to renew my suit."
+
+"Then wait here beside me; do not leave me," answered the lady, as she
+recognized St. Eustache.
+
+"That will I not, dearest," was the fervent reply.
+
+Napoleon, with Josephine leaning on his arm, advanced through the
+broad space cleared by the attendants, and when he had taken up a
+position in the centre of the hall, near Lioncourt and his bride, St.
+Eustache and Lasalle, gave the signal for the company to unmask. As
+they obeyed, and every face was uncovered, his quick glance caught the
+pale and handsome features of the young cavalry colonel.
+
+"What!" he exclaimed, impetuously. "Can the grave give up its dead? Do
+our eyes deceive us? Is this indeed Lioncourt, whom we left dead upon
+the field of Austerlitz? Advance, man, and satisfy our doubts."
+
+Lioncourt advanced, and the emperor laid his hand upon his arm.
+
+"You are pale as a ghost, man; but still you're flesh and blood. Give
+an account of yourself. Speak quickly; don't you see these ladies are
+dying of curiosity? and, faith, so I am too," he added, smiling.
+
+"Sire," said the colonel, "you will, perhaps, remember ordering my
+regiment in pursuit of the flying Russians?"
+
+"Perfectly well; and they performed the service gallantly. Their rear
+was cut to pieces."
+
+"St. Eustache and I rode side by side," pursued the colonel.
+
+"Here is St. Eustache," cried the emperor, beckoning the officer to
+advance.
+
+"My dear colonel!" cried St. Eustache, embracing his old commander.
+
+"Go on, colonel," cried the emperor, stamping his foot impatiently.
+
+"We hung upon the flying rear of the enemy, sabring every man we
+overtook. Faith, I hardly know what happened afterwards," said the
+colonel, pausing.
+
+"Take up the thread of the story, St. Eustache," said the emperor;
+"don't let it break off here."
+
+"Well, sire," said St. Eustache, drawing, a long breath, "as the
+colonel and I were charging side by side, cutting right and left,
+separated from our men by the superior speed of our horses, a Russian
+officer wheeled and shot the colonel from his saddle."
+
+"That was how it happened, Lioncourt," said the emperor. "Now go on.
+Afterwards----"
+
+"When I came to my senses, sire," resumed Lioncourt, gloomily, "I
+found myself in the hands of some Austrian peasants. I had been
+plundered of my epaulets and uniform, and they took me for a common
+soldier. But they carried me to their cottage, and dressed my wound,
+and eventually I got well."
+
+"But where were you wounded, colonel?" asked the emperor.
+
+"A pistol ball had entered behind my left shoulder, and came out by my
+collar bone."
+
+"_Behind_ your left shoulder!" cried Napoleon. "And yet you were
+facing the enemy. How was that?"
+
+"Because," said the colonel, sternly, "a Frenchman, a soldier, an
+officer, a disappointed rival, took that opportunity of assassinating
+me, and shot me with his own hostler pistol."
+
+"His name!" shouted the emperor, quivering with passion, "his name; do
+you know him?"
+
+"Well.--It was Lieutenant Colonel St. Eustache!"
+
+All eyes were turned on St. Eustache. His knees knocked together, his
+eyes were fixed, cold drops of perspiration stood on his forehead. But
+in all that circle of indignant eyes, the detected criminal saw only
+the eagle orbs of the emperor, that pierced to his very soul.
+
+"Is this charge true?" asked Napoleon, quickly, quivering with one of
+his tremendous tornadoes of passion.
+
+St. Eustache could not answer; but he nodded his head.
+
+"Your sword!" cried the emperor.
+
+Mechanically the criminal drew his sabre; he had thrown off his
+domino, and now stood revealed in the uniform he disgraced, and
+offered the hilt to the emperor. Napoleon clutched it, and snapped the
+blade under foot. Then, tearing off his epaulets, he threw them on the
+floor, stamped on them, and beckoning to an officer who stood by,
+gasped out,--
+
+"A guard, a guard!"
+
+In a few minutes the tramp of armed men was heard in the saloon, and
+the wretched culprit was removed.
+
+"_General_ Lioncourt," said the emperor to his recovered officer,
+"your new commission shall be made out to-morrow. In the mean while
+the lovely Leonide shall teach you to forget your trials."
+
+The assemblage broke up. Lioncourt, his wife, and her faithful brother
+retired to their now happy home.
+
+The next day was fixed for the trial of the guilty St. Eustache before
+a court martial--a mere formal preliminary to his execution, for he
+had confessed his crime; but it appeared that during the preceding
+night he had managed to escape.
+
+Flying from justice, the wretched criminal reached one of the bridges
+that span the Seine. Climbing to the parapet, he gazed down into the
+dark and turbid flood, now black as midnight, that rolled beneath the
+yawning arch. There was no star in the sky, and here and there only a
+dim light twinkled, reflected in the muddy wave. Daylight was
+beginning to streak the east with sickly rays. Soon the great city
+would be astir. Soon hoarse voices would be clamoring for the traitor,
+the assassin, the dastard, who, in the hour of victory, had raised his
+hand against a brother Frenchman. Soon, if he lingered, his ears would
+be doomed to hear the death penalty--soon the muskets, whose fire he
+had so often commanded, would be levelled against his breast. All was
+lost,--all for which he had schemed and sinned,--the applause of his
+countrymen, the favor of his emperor, the love of Leonide. At least,
+he would disappoint Paris of a spectacle. He would die by his own act.
+A sudden spring, a heavy plunge, a few bubbles breaking on the black
+surface, and the wretched criminal was no more!
+
+Days afterwards, a couple of soldiers, lounging into La Morgue, the
+dismal receptacle where bodies are exposed for identification,
+recognized in a pallid and bloated corpse the remains of the late
+lieutenant colonel of the ----th hussars.
+
+Lioncourt learned his fate, but it threw no shadow over his bright and
+cloudless happiness.
+
+
+
+
+A KISS ON DEMAND.
+
+
+It was a very peculiar sound, something like the popping of a
+champagne cork, something like the report of a small pocket pistol,
+but exactly like nothing but itself. It was a kiss.
+
+A kiss implies two parties--unless it be one of those symbolical
+kisses produced by one pair of lips, and wafted through the air in
+token of affection or admiration. But this particular kiss was
+genuine. The parties in the case were Mrs. Phebe Mayflower, the
+newly-married wife of honest Tom Mayflower, gardener to Mr. Augustus
+Scatterly, and that young gentleman himself. Augustus was a
+good-hearted, rattle-brained spendthrift, who had employed the two or
+three years which had elapsed since his majority in "making ducks and
+drakes" of the pretty little fortune left him by his defunct sire.
+There was nothing very bad about him, excepting his prodigal habits,
+and by these he was himself the severest sufferer. Tom, his gardener,
+had been married a few weeks, and Gus, who had failed to be at the
+wedding, and missed the opportunity of "saluting the bride," took it
+into his head that it was both proper and polite that he should do so
+on the first occasion of his meeting her subsequently to that
+interesting ceremony. Mrs. Mayflower, the other party interested in
+the case, differed from him in opinion, and the young landlord kissed
+her in spite of herself. But she was not without a champion, for at
+the precise moment when Scatterly placed his audacious lips in contact
+with the blooming cheek of Mrs. M., Tom entered the garden and beheld
+the outrage.
+
+"What are you doing of, Mr. Scatterly?" he roared.
+
+"O, nothing, Tom, but asserting my rights! I was only saluting the
+bride."
+
+"Against my will, Tommy," said the poor bride, blushing like a peony,
+and wiping the offended cheek with her checked apron.
+
+"And I'll make you pay dear for it, if there's law in the land," said
+Tom.
+
+"Poh, poh! don't make a fool of yourself," said Scatterly.
+
+"I don't mean to," answered the gardener, dryly.
+
+"You're not seriously offended at the innocent liberty I took?"
+
+"Yes I be," said Tom.
+
+"Well, if you view it in that light," answered Scatterly, "I shall
+feel bound to make you reparation. You shall have a kiss from my
+bride, when I'm married."
+
+"That you never will be."
+
+"I must confess," said Scatterly, laughing, "the prospect of repayment
+seems rather distant. But who knows what will happen? I may not die a
+bachelor, after all. And if I marry--I repeat it, my dear fellow--you
+shall have a kiss from my wife."
+
+"No he shan't," said Phebe. "He shall kiss nobody but me."
+
+"Yes he shall," said Scatterly. "Have you got pen, ink, and paper,
+Tom?"
+
+"To be sure," answered the gardener. "Here they be, all handy."
+
+Scatterly sat down and wrote as follows:--
+
+     "THE WILLOWS, August --, 18--.
+
+     "Value received, I promise to pay Thomas Mayflower or order,
+     one kiss on demand.
+
+     "AUGUSTUS SCATTERLY."
+
+"There you have a legal document," said the young man, as he handed
+the paper to the grinning gardener. "And now, good folks, good by."
+
+"Mistakes will happen in the best regulated families," and so it
+chanced that, in the autumn of the same year, our bachelor met at the
+Springs a charming belle of Baltimore, to whom he lost his heart
+incontinently. His person and address were attractive, and though his
+prodigality had impaired his fortune, still a rich old maiden aunt,
+who doted on him, Miss Persimmon Verjuice, promised to do the handsome
+thing by him on condition of his marrying and settling quietly to the
+management of his estate. So, under these circumstances, he proposed,
+was accepted, and married, and brought home his beautiful young bride
+to reside with Miss Verjuice at the Willows.
+
+In the early days of the honeymoon, one fine morning, when Mr. and
+Mrs. Scatterly and the maiden aunt were walking together in the
+garden, Tom Mayflower, dressed in his best, made his appearance,
+wearing a smile of most peculiar meaning.
+
+"Julia," said Augustus, carelessly, to his young bride, "this is my
+gardener, come to pay his respects to you--honest Tom Mayflower, a
+very worthy fellow, I assure you."
+
+Mrs. Scatterly nodded condescendingly to the gardener who gazed upon
+her with the open eyes of admiration. She spoke a few words to him,
+inquired about his wife, his flowers, &c., and then turned away with
+the aunt, as if to terminate the interview.
+
+But Tom could not take his eyes off her, and he stood, gaping and
+admiring, and every now and then passing the back of his hand across
+his lips.
+
+"What do you think of my choice, Tom?" asked Scatterly,
+confidentially.
+
+"O, splendiferous!" said the gardener.
+
+"Roses and lilies in her cheeks--eh?" said Scatterly.
+
+"Her lips are as red as carnations, and her eyes as blue as
+larkspurs," said the gardener.
+
+"I'm glad you like your new mistress; now go to work, Tom."
+
+"I beg pardon, Mr. Scatterly; but I called to see you on business."
+
+"Well--out with it."
+
+"Do you remember any thing about saluting the bride?"
+
+"I remember I paid the customary homage to Mrs. Mayflower."
+
+"Well, don't you remember what you promised in case of your marriage?"
+
+"No!"
+
+Tom produced the promissory note with a grin of triumph. "It's my turn
+now, Mr. Scatterly."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean to kiss Mrs. Scatterly."
+
+"Go to the deuse, you rascal!"
+
+"O, what is the matter?" exclaimed both the ladies, startled by
+Scatterly's exclamation, and turning back to learn the cause.
+
+"This fellow has preferred a demand against me," said Scatterly.
+
+"A legal demand," said the gardener, sturdily; "and here's the
+dokiment."
+
+"Give it to me," said the old maid aunt. Tom handed her the paper with
+an air of triumph.
+
+"Am I right?" said he.
+
+"Perfectly, young man," replied Miss Verjuice; "only, when my nephew
+married, I assumed all his debts; and I am now ready myself to pay
+your claim."
+
+"Fairly trapped, by Jupiter!" exclaimed Scatterly, in an ecstasy of
+delight.
+
+"Stop, stop!" cried the unhappy gardener, recoiling from the withered
+face, bearded lip, and sharp nose of the ancient spinster; "I
+relinquish my claim--I'll write a receipt in full."
+
+"No, sir," said Scatterly; "you pressed me for payment this
+moment--and you shall take your pay, or I discharge you from my
+employ."
+
+"I am ready," said the spinster, meekly.
+
+Tom shuddered--crawled up to the old lady--shut his eyes--made up a
+horrible face, and kissed her, while Mr. and Mrs. S. stood by,
+convulsed with laughter.
+
+Five minutes afterwards, Tom entered the gardener's lodge, pale, weak,
+and trembling, and sank into a chair.
+
+"Give me a glass of water, Phebe!" he gasped.
+
+"Dear, what has happened?" asked the little woman.
+
+"Happened! why that cussed Miss Verjuice is paying Mr. Scatterly's
+debts."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Well, I presented my promissory note--he handed it to
+her--and--and--O murder!--_I've been kissing the old woman!_"
+
+Phebe threw her arms about his neck, and pressed her lips to his, and
+Thomas Mayflower then and there solemnly promised that he would
+nevermore have any thing to do with KISSES ON DEMAND!
+
+
+
+
+THE RIFLE SHOT.
+
+A MADMAN'S CONFESSION.
+
+
+It is midnight. The stealthy step of the restless maniac is no longer
+heard in the long, cheerless corridors; the ravings of the incurable
+cannot penetrate the deep walls of the cells in which their despair is
+immured; even the guardians of the establishment are asleep. Without,
+what silence! The branches of the immemorial trees hang pendulous and
+motionless; the last railway train, with its monster eyes of light,
+has thundered by. The neighboring city seems like one vast mausoleum,
+over which the silent stars are keeping watch and ward, and weeping
+silvery dew like angels' tears. Only crime and despair are sleepless.
+
+To my task. They allow me a lamp. They are not afraid that the
+_madman_ will fire his living tomb and perish in the ruins. Wise men
+of science! Cunning readers of the human heart, your decrees are
+infallible. I am mad. But perhaps some eager individual whose eyes
+shall rest upon these pages will pronounce a different sentence;
+perhaps he may know how to distinguish _crime_ from _madness_.
+
+A vision of my youth comes over me--a happy boyhood--a tree-embowered
+home, babbling brooks, fertile lawns--a father's blessing--a mother's
+kiss that was both joy and blessing--a brother's brave and tender
+friendship--and first love, that dearest, sweetest, holiest charm of
+all. O God! that those things were and are not! It is agony to recall
+them.
+
+Pass, too, the brief Elysian period of wedded love. Julia sleeps well
+in her woodland grave. I was false to her memory.
+
+If my boyhood were happy, my manhood was a melancholy one. A morbid
+temperament, fostered by indulgence, dropped poison even in the cup of
+bliss. I loved and I hated with intensity.
+
+To my widowed home came, after the death of my wife, my fair cousin
+Amy, and my young brother Norman. Both were orphans like myself. Amy
+was a glorious young creature--my antithesis in every respect. She was
+light hearted, I was melancholy; she was beautiful, I ill favored; she
+was young, I past the middle age of life, arrived at that period when
+philosophers falsely tell us that the pulses beat moderately, the
+blood flows temperately, and the heart is tranquil. Fools! the fierce
+passions of the soul belong not to the period of youth or early
+manhood. But let my story illustrate my position.
+
+Amy filled my lonely home with mirth and music. She rose with the
+lark, and carolled as wildly and gayly the livelong day, till, like a
+child tired of play, she sank from very exhaustion on her pure and
+peaceful couch. Norman was her playmate. In early manhood he retained
+the buoyant and elastic spirit of his youth. His was one of those
+natures which never grow old. Have you ever noticed one of those aged
+men, whose fresh cheeks and bright eyes, and ardent sympathy with all
+that is youthful and animated, belie the chronicle of Time? Such might
+have been the age of Norman, had not----But I am anticipating.
+
+Between my cold and exhausted nature and Amy's warm, fresh heart, you
+might have supposed that there could have been no union. Yet she
+loved me warmly and well--loved me as a friend and father. I returned
+her pure and innocent affection with a fierce passion. I longed to
+possess her. The memory of her I had loved and lost was but as the
+breath on the surface of a steel mirror, which heat displaces and
+obliterates.
+
+I was not long in perceiving the exact state of her feelings towards
+me, and with that knowledge came the instantaneous conviction of her
+fondness for my brother, so well calculated to inspire a young girl's
+love. I watched them with the keen and angry eyes of jealousy. I
+followed them in their walks; I played the eavesdropper, and caught up
+the words of their innocent conversation, endeavoring to turn them to
+their disadvantage. By degrees I came to hate Norman; and what equals
+in intensity a brother's hate? It surpasses the hate of woman.
+
+In the insanity of my passion--then I was insane indeed--I sought to
+rival my brother in all those things in which he was my superior. He
+was fond of field sports, and a master of all athletic exercises; he
+was fond of bringing home the trophies of his manly skill and
+displaying them in the eyes of his mistress. He could bring down the
+hawk from the clouds, or arrest the career of the deer in full spring.
+I practised shooting, and failed miserably. His good-natured smile at
+my maladroitness I treasured up as a deadly wrong. While he rode
+fearlessly, I trembled at the thought of a leap. He danced gracefully
+and lightly; my awkward attempts at waltzing made both Amy and her
+lover smile.
+
+But in mental accomplishments I was the superior of Norman; and in my
+capacity of teacher both to Amy and my brother, I had ample
+opportunity of displaying the powers of my mind.
+
+Amy was gifted with quick intelligence; Norman was a dull scholar.
+What pleasure I took in humbling him in the eyes of his mistress! what
+asperity and scorn I threw into my pedantic rebukes! Norman was
+astonished and wounded at my manner. As he was in a good degree
+dependent on me, as he owed to me his nurture, sustenance, and
+training, I took full advantage of our relative position. With
+well-feigned earnestness and sorrow, I exaggerated my pecuniary
+embarrassments, and pointed out to him the necessity of his providing
+for himself, suggesting, with tears in my eyes, that he must adopt
+some servile trade or calling, as his melancholy deficiencies
+precluded the possibility of his success in any other line.
+
+Norman had little care for money. Before the fatal advent of Amy, I
+had supplied him freely with the means of gratifying his tastes; but
+when I found that he expended his allowance in presents for his fair
+cousin, on the plea of hard necessity I restricted his supplies, and
+finally limited him to a pittance, which only a feeble regard for the
+memory of our indulgent mother forced me to grant.
+
+One day--I remember it well--he came to me with joy depicted in his
+countenance, and displayed a recent purchase, the fruits of his forced
+economy. It was a fine rifle; and he urged me and Amy to come and see
+him make a trial of the weapon. I rebuked him for his extravagance
+with a sharpness which brought tears into his eyes--but I consented to
+witness the trial. His first shot centered the target. He loaded
+again, and handed the weapon to me. My bullet was nowhere to be found.
+Norman's second shot lapped his first. Mine was again wide of the
+mark. Norman laughed thoughtlessly. Amy looked grave, for with a
+woman's quickness she had guessed at the truth of my feelings. I cut
+the scene short by summoning both to their studies. That morning
+Norman, whose thoughts were with his rifle, blundered sadly in his
+mathematics, and I rebuked him with more than my usual asperity.
+
+Be it understood that my character stood high with the world. I was
+not undistinguished in public life, and had the rare good fortune to
+conciliate both parties. I was a working man in many charitable and
+philanthropic societies. I was a member of a church, and looked up to
+as a model of piety. As a husband and brother, I was held up as an
+example. I had so large a capital of character, I could deal in crime
+to an unlimited amount.
+
+Some days after the occurrence just related, I was alone with my
+brother in the library.
+
+"Come, Norman," said I, "leave those stupid books. Study is a poor
+business for a young free heart like yours. Leave books for old age
+and the rheumatism."
+
+Norman sprang up joyously. "With all my heart, brother; I'm with you
+for a gallop or a ramble."
+
+"I'm but a poor horseman, and an indifferent walker," I answered.
+"What do you say to a little rifle practice? I should like to try to
+mend my luck."
+
+Norman's rifle was in his hand in a moment, and whistling his favorite
+spaniel, he sallied forth with me into the bright, sunshiny autumnal
+day. We hied to a hollow in the woods where he had set up a target. He
+made the first shot--a splendid one--and then reloaded the rifle.
+
+"Take care," said he, "how you handle the trigger; you know the lock
+is an easy one--I am going to have it altered." And he went forward to
+set the target firmer in the ground, as his shot had shaken it.
+
+He was twenty paces off--his back turned towards me. I lifted the
+rifle, and covered him with both sights. It was the work of a moment.
+My hand touched the trigger. A sharp report followed--the puff of
+blue smoke swirled upward--and my brother fell headlong to the ground.
+The bullet had gone crashing through his skull. He never moved.
+
+A revulsion of feeling instantly followed. All the love of former
+years--all the tender passages of our boyhood--rushed through my brain
+in an instant. I flew to him and raised him from the earth. At sight
+of his pale face, beautiful in death, of his long bright locks dabbled
+in warm blood, I shrieked in despair. A mother bewailing her first
+born could not have felt her loss more keenly, or mourned it more
+wildly. Two or three woodmen rushed to the spot. They saw, as they
+supposed, the story at a glance. One of those accidents so common to
+the careless use of firearms--and I was proverbially unacquainted with
+their use--had produced the catastrophe. We were borne home, for I had
+fainted, and was as cold and lifeless as my victim. What passed during
+a day or two I scarcely remember. Something of strange people in the
+house--of disconnected words of sympathy--of a coffin--a funeral--a
+pilgrimage to the woodland cemetery, where my parents and my wife
+slept--are all the memory records of those days.
+
+Then I resumed the full possession of my senses. Amy's pale face and
+shadowy form were all that were left of _her_--my brother's seat at
+the table and the fireside were empty. But his clothes, his picture,
+his riding cap and spurs, a thousand trifles scattered round, called
+up his dread image every day to the fratricide. His dog left the house
+every morning, and came not back till evening. One day he was found
+dead in the graveyard where his master had been laid.
+
+Amy clung to me with despairing love. She _would_ talk of the lost
+one. She _would_ find every day in me some resemblance to him.
+Perhaps she would even have wedded in me the memory of the departed.
+But that thought was too horrible. I loved her no longer.
+
+Friends came to condole with me. Every word of sympathy was a barbed
+arrow. I could bear it no longer. Conscience stung me not to madness,
+but confession. I repelled sympathy--I solicited denunciation. I told
+them I was my brother's murderer. I forced my confession on every one
+who would hear it. Then it became rumored about that my "fine mind,"
+so they phrased it, had given way beneath the weight of sorrow. I was
+regarded with fear. A physician of my acquaintance made me a friendly
+visit, and shook his head when he heard my story. One day this
+gentleman invited me to ride in his carriage. He left me here. Society
+believes me mad--that I am not, is to me a miracle.
+
+O ye wise ones of the earth,--legislators of the land,--would ye
+avenge the blood that has been spilt by violence on the ruthless
+murderer, would ye inflict punishment upon him, spare and slay him
+not. Take down the gallows, and in its place erect your prisons doubly
+strong, for there, within their ever-during walls of granite, lies the
+hell of the villain who has robbed his brother of his life.
+
+
+
+
+THE WATER CURE.
+
+
+Since the introduction of the limpid waters of Lake Cochituate into
+the goodly city of Boston, the water commissioners have had their
+hands full of business, for the various accidents incidental to the
+commencement of the service, the bursting of pipes, the demands for
+payments of damages, applications for accommodations, &c., have
+rendered the offices no sinecures.
+
+The other day, a poorly but decently-dressed Irish woman entered the
+office of the commissioners on Washington Street, and walked up to the
+head clerk.
+
+"Well, my good woman, what do you want?"
+
+"I want to see the dochthor."
+
+"The doctor! what doctor?"
+
+"How should I know his name, and me niver seeing him?"
+
+"This is the water commissioner's office, my good woman."
+
+"Ah! and sure I've hard of the wonderful cures you've made. If my poor
+Teddy had been alive at this moment, he wouldn't have been dead the
+day."
+
+"O, you want the water brought into your house."
+
+"Sure and I'd like that same."
+
+"Well, where do you live?"
+
+"Broad Strate--near Purchase Strate--it's a small cellar I have to
+myself. I used to take boarders; but it's poorly I am, and I can't
+work as I used to, dochthor."
+
+"Well, haven't you got any water?"
+
+"Divil a bit. I have to take my pail and go to Bread Strate for it."
+
+"And the water doesn't come into your cellar?"
+
+"Sure it comes into me cellar sometimes--but it's as salt as brine;
+it's the say water. I've tried to drink it, but it made me sick. O,
+I'm bad, dochthor, dear; if you think the water'll cure me, tell me
+where I can get it."
+
+"You've got the pipes down your way?"
+
+"I've got the pipes, dochthor, dear--but sorrow a bit of tibaccy. Do
+you think smoking is good for the rheumatiz?"
+
+"There's some mistake here," said the clerk; "what's that you've got
+in your hand?"
+
+"They tould me to bring this bit ov pasteboord here, sure."
+
+The clerk took it. It was a dispensary ticket. He explained the
+mistake, and told the applicant where she should go to obtain medicine
+and advice.
+
+"No, dochthor, dear--it's no mistake--it's the water cure I'm after.
+Sure it's the blissid wather that saves us. There was Pat Murphy that
+brak his leg when he fell with a hod of bricks aff the ladder in Say
+Strate, and they put a bit of wet rag round it, and the next wake he
+was dancing a jig to the chune of Paddy Rafferty, at the ball given by
+the Social Burial Society. And there was my sister Molly's old man,
+Phelim, that was took bad wid the fever--and he drank walth of
+whiskey, but it never did him a bit of good--but when he lift off the
+whiskey, and drank nothin' but wather, he came round in a wake. O,
+dochthor, let me have the blissid water."
+
+"You must see your landlord about that."
+
+"You wouldn't sind me to him, dochthor."
+
+"I'm no doctor, good woman," said the clerk, now thoroughly annoyed,
+"and you've come to the wrong shop, as I told you."
+
+"How do you use the water?" inquired the woman.
+
+"Why, you turn the cock and let it on--in this way," said the clerk,
+letting a little Cochituate into a basin. "There, go along now, and go
+to the doctor's, as I have directed you."
+
+"Sorrow a dochthor I go to but the water dochthor, this blissid day,"
+said the woman, and she left the office.
+
+She repaired to her cellar in no enviable frame of mind. She was sick
+and discouraged, and labored under the impression that she had been to
+the right place, but they had imposed upon her, from an unwillingness
+to aid her. In the mean while, however, during her absence, a service
+pipe had been admitted into her premises by the landlord, though she
+was not aware of the fact. She became acquainted with it soon enough,
+however. The next morning, about four o'clock, as she lay on the
+floor, bemoaning her hard fate and the neglect of the "dochthor," she
+heard a rushing noise. The water pipe had burst, and a stream, like a
+fountain, was now steadily falling into the cellar.
+
+"Bless their hearts!" exclaimed the old woman, "they haven't forgotten
+the poor. The dochthor's sent the water at last--and I must lie still
+and take it."
+
+The first shock of the invading flood was a severe one.
+
+"Millia murther!" she exclaimed, "how could it is! Dochthor, dear,
+couldn't ye have let me had it a thrifle warmer?"
+
+The water continued to pour in, and she was thoroughly soaked. Under
+the belief that the doctor must be somewhere about, superintending the
+operation, but keeping himself out of sight from motives of delicacy,
+she continued to address him.
+
+"There! dochthor, dear. Blessings on ye! That'll do for this time.
+It's could I am! Stop it, dochthor! I've had enough! It's too good for
+the likes of me. I fale betther, dochthor; I won't throuble ye more,
+dochthor; many thanks to ye, dochthor! do ye hear? It's drowning I
+am!"
+
+By this time she had risen, and was standing ankle deep in water. As
+the element was still rising, and the "dochthor" failed to make his
+appearance, the poor woman climbed upon a stool, which was soon
+insulated by the tide. From this she managed to escape in a large
+bread trough, and ferried herself over to a shelf, where she lay in
+comparative safety, watching the rising of the waters.
+
+What would have been her fate, if she had remained alone, it is
+impossible to say. After some time the noise of waters alarmed the
+neighbors; they came to see what was the matter, and finally succeeded
+in rescuing the tenant of the cellar from the threatened deluge. She
+was comfortably cared for by a fellow-countrywoman, and a regular
+dispensary physician sent for. Wonderful to relate, the shock of the
+cold bath had accomplished one of those accidental cures, of which
+many are recorded in the history of rheumatic disorders; and in a few
+days, the sufferer was on her legs again. Furthermore, her sickness
+had proved the means of interesting several benevolent individuals in
+her fate, and by their assistance she was established in a little
+shop, where she is making an honest penny, and laying by something
+against a rainy day. This she all attributes to the "blissid wather,"
+and, in her veneration for the element, has totally abjured whiskey,
+and signed the pledge, an act which gives assurance of her future
+fortune.
+
+
+
+
+THE COSSACK.
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+                    I'd give
+    The Ukraine back again to live
+    It o'er once more, and be a page,
+    The happy page, who was the lord
+    Of one soft heart and his own sword.
+
+                                   MAZEPPA.
+
+Count Willnitz was striding to and fro in the old hall of his
+ancestral castle, in the heart of Lithuania. Through the high and
+narrow Gothic windows the light fell dimly into the cold apartment,
+just glancing on the massive pillars, and bringing into faint relief
+the dusty banners and old trophies of arms that hung along the walls,
+for the wintry day was near its close. The count was a dark-browed,
+stern-featured man. His cold, gray eyes were sunken in their orbits;
+and deep lines were drawn about his mouth, as if some secret grief
+were gnawing at his vitals. And, indeed, good cause existed for his
+sorrow; for, but a few days previously, he had lost his wife. They had
+buried the countess at midnight, as was the custom of the family, in
+the old, ancestral vault of the castle. Vassal and serf had waved
+their torches over the black throat of the grave, and the wail of
+women had gone up through the rocky arches. Still the count had been
+seen to shed no tear. An old warrior, schooled in the stern academy
+of military life, he had early learned to conquer his emotions;
+indeed, there were those who said that nature, in moulding his
+aristocratic form, had forgotten to provide it with a heart; and this
+legend found facile credence with the cowering serfs who owned his
+sway, and the ill-paid soldiers who followed his banner. The last male
+descendant of a long and noble line, he was ill able to maintain the
+splendor of his family name; for his dominions had been "curtailed of
+their fair proportion," and his finances were in a disordered state.
+
+As, like Hardicanute in the old ballad,
+
+    "Stately strode he east the wa',
+    And stately strode he west,"
+
+there entered a figure almost as grim and stern as himself. This was
+an old woman who now filled the office of housekeeper, having
+succeeded to full sway on the death of the countess, the young
+daughter of the count being unable or unwilling to assume any care in
+the household.
+
+"Well, dame," said the count, pausing in his walk, and confronting the
+old woman, "how goes it with you, and how with Alvina? Still sorrowing
+over her mother's death?"
+
+"The tears of a maiden are like the dews in the morning, count,"
+replied the old woman. "The first sunbeam dries them up."
+
+"And what ray of joy can penetrate the dismal hole?" asked the count.
+
+"Do you remember the golden bracelet you gave your lady daughter on
+her wedding day?" inquired the old woman, fixing her keen, gray eye on
+her master's face as she spoke.
+
+"Ay, well," replied the count; "golden gifts are not so easily
+obtained, of late, that I should forget their bestowal But what of the
+bawble?"
+
+"I saw it in the hands of the page Alexis, when he thought himself
+unobserved."
+
+"How!" cried the count, his cheek first reddening, and then becoming
+deadly pale with anger; "is the blood of the gitano asserting its
+claim? Has he begun to pilfer? The dog shall hang from the highest
+battlement of the castle!"
+
+"May it not have been a free gift, sir count?" suggested the hideous
+hag.
+
+"A free gift! What mean you? A love token? Ha! dare you insinuate? And
+yet her blood is----"
+
+"Hush! walls have sometimes ears," said the old woman, looking
+cautiously around. "The gypsy child you picked up in the forest is now
+almost a man; your daughter is a woman. The page is beautiful; they
+have been thrown much together. Alvina is lonely, romantic----"
+
+"Enough, enough!" said the count, stamping his foot. "I will watch
+him. If your suspicions be correct----" He paused, and added between
+his clinched teeth, "I shall know how to punish the daring of the dog.
+Away!"
+
+The old woman hobbled away, rubbing her skinny hands together, and
+chuckling at the prospect of having her hatred of the young countess
+and the page, both of whom had excited her malevolence, speedily
+gratified.
+
+Count Willnitz was on the eve of a journey to Paris with his daughter.
+They were to start in a day or two. This circumstance brought on the
+adventure we shall speedily relate.
+
+Between Alexis, the beautiful page whom the late countess had found
+and fancied among a wandering Bohemian horde, and the high-born
+daughter of the feudal house, an attachment had sprung up, nurtured
+by the isolation in which they lived, and the romantic character and
+youth of the parties. About to be separated from his mistress for a
+long time, the page had implored her to grant him an interview, and
+the lovers met in an apartment joining the suite of rooms appropriated
+to the countess, and where they were little likely to be intruded
+upon. In the innocence of their hearts, they had not dreamed that
+their looks and movements had been watched, and they gave themselves
+up to the happiness of unrestrained converse. But at the moment when
+the joy of Alexis seemed purest and brightest, the gathering thunder
+cloud was overhanging him. At the moment when, sealing his pledge of
+eternal fidelity and memory in absence, he tremblingly printed a first
+and holy kiss upon the blushing cheek of Alvina, an iron hand was laid
+upon his shoulder, and, torn ruthlessly from the spot, he was dashed
+against the wall, while a terrible voice exclaimed,--
+
+"Dog, you shall reckon with me for this!"
+
+Alvina threw herself at her father's feet.
+
+"Pardon--pardon for Alexis, father! I alone am to blame."
+
+"Rise! rise!" thundered the count. "Art thou not sufficiently
+humiliated? Dare to breathe a word in his favor, and it shall go hard
+with thy minion. Punishment thou canst not avert; say but a word, and
+that punishment becomes death; for he is mine, soul and body, to have
+and to hold, to head or to hang--my vassal, my slave! What ho, there!"
+
+As he stamped his foot, a throng of attendants poured into the room.
+
+"Search me that fellow!" cried the count, pointing with his finger to
+Alexis.
+
+A dozen officers' hands examined the person of Alexis, one of them,
+more eager than the rest, discovered a golden bracelet, and brought it
+to the count.
+
+"Ha!" cried the count, as he gazed upon the trinket; "truly do I
+recognize this bawble. Speak, dog! when got'st thou this?"
+
+Alvina was about to speak, and acknowledge that she had bestowed it;
+but before she could utter a syllable, the page exclaimed,--
+
+"I confess all--I stole it."
+
+"Enough!" cried the count. "Daughter, retire to your apartment."
+
+"Father!" cried the wretched girl, wringing her hands.
+
+"Silence, countess!" cried the count, with terrific emphasis.
+"Remember that I wield the power of life and _death_!"
+
+Casting one look of mute agony at the undaunted page, the hapless lady
+retired from the room.
+
+"Zabitzki," said the count, addressing the foremost of his attendants,
+"take me this thieving dog into the court yard, and lay fifty stripes
+upon his back. Then bear him to the dungeon in the eastern turret that
+overlooks the moat; there keep him till you learn my further
+pleasure."
+
+The page was brave as steel. His cheek did not blanch, nor did his
+heart quail, as he heard the dreadful sentence. His lips uttered no
+unmanly entreaty for forgiveness; but, folding his arms, and drawing
+up his elegant figure to its full height, he fixed his eagle eye upon
+the count, with a glance full of bitter hatred and mortal defiance.
+And afterwards, when submitting to the ignominious punishment, with
+his flesh lacerated by the scourge, no groan escaped his lips that
+might reach the listening ear of Alvina. He bore it all with Spartan
+firmness.
+
+Midnight had struck when the young countess, shrouded in a cloak, and
+bearing a key which she had purchased by its weight in gold, ascended
+to the eastern turret, resolved to liberate the prisoner. The door
+swung heavily back on its rusted hinges as she cautiously entered the
+dungeon. Drawing back the slide from a lantern she carried in her left
+hand, she threw its blaze before her, calling out at the same time,
+"Alexis!"
+
+No voice responded.
+
+"They have murdered him!" she murmured, as she rushed forward and
+glanced wildly around her.
+
+The cell was empty. She sprang to the grated window. The bars had been
+sawn through and wrenched apart, with the exception of one, from which
+dangled a rope made of fragments of linen and blanket twisted and
+knotted together. Had Alexis escaped, or perished in the attempt? The
+moat was deep and broad; but the page was a good swimmer and a good
+climber, and his heart was above all proof. There was little doubt in
+the mind of his mistress that fortune had favored him. Sinking on her
+knees, she gave utterance to a fervent thanksgiving to the almighty
+Power which had protected the hapless boy, and then retired to her
+couch to weep in secret. The next day the castle rang with the escape
+of Alexis. Messengers were sent out in pursuit of him in every
+direction; but a fall of snow in the latter part of the night
+prevented the possibility of tracking him, and even the dogs that the
+count put upon the scent were completely baffled. The next day the
+count and his daughter started on their journey.
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+    For time at last sets all things even;
+      And if we do but watch the hour,
+      There never yet was human power
+    Which could evade, if unforgiven,
+      The patient search and vigil long
+      Of him who treasures up a wrong.
+
+                                 BYRON.
+
+
+Years had passed away. The storm of war had rolled over the country,
+and the white eagle of Poland had ceased to wave over an independent
+land. Count Willnitz and his daughter had returned to the old castle;
+the former stern and harsh as ever, the latter completely in the power
+of an inexorable master. She had received no tidings of Alexis, and
+had given him up as lost to her forever. Her father, straightened in
+his circumstances and menaced with ruin, had secured relief and safety
+by pledging his daughter's hand to a wealthy nobleman, Count Radetsky,
+who was now in the castle awaiting the fulfilment of the bargain.
+
+"Go, my child," said the count, with more gentleness than he usually
+manifested in his manner. "You must prepare yourself for the altar."
+
+"Father," said the young girl, earnestly, "does he know that I love
+him not?"
+
+"I have told him all, Alvina."
+
+"And yet he is willing to wed me!" She raised her eyes to heaven,
+rose, and slowly retired to her room.
+
+Louisa, the old woman presented in the first scene of our tale, decked
+the unfortunate girl in her bridal robes, and went with her to the
+chapel, where her father and Radetsky awaited her. An old priest
+mumbled over the ceremony, and joined the hands of the bride and
+bridegroom. The witnesses were few--only the vassals of the count; and
+no attempt at festivity preceded or followed the dismal ceremony.
+
+Alvina retired to her chamber when it was over, promising to join her
+bridegroom at the table in a few moments. The housekeeper accompanied
+her.
+
+"I give you joy, Countess Radetsky," said the old woman.
+
+"I sorely need it," was the bitter answer. "I have sacrificed myself
+to the duty I owe my sole surviving parent."
+
+The old woman rubbed her hands and chuckled as she noted the tone of
+anguish in which these words were uttered.
+
+"I can now speak out," she said. "After long years of silence, the
+seal is removed from my lips. I can now repay your childish scorn, and
+bitter jests, by a bitterer jest than any you have yet dreamed of.
+Countess Radetsky----"
+
+"Spare me that name," said the countess.
+
+"Nay, sweet, it is one you will bear through life," said the hag, "and
+you had better accustom yourself early to its sound. Know, then, my
+sweet lady, that the count, my master, had no claims on your
+obedience."
+
+"How?"
+
+"He is a childless man. He found you an abandoned orphan. Struck with
+your beauty, he brought you to his lady, and, though they loved you
+not, they adopted you, with a view to making your charms useful to
+them when you should have grown up. The count has amply paid himself
+to-day for all the expense and trouble you have put him to. He has
+sold you to an eager suitor for a good round price. Ha, ha!"
+
+"And you knew this, and never told me!" cried the hapless girl.
+
+"I was bound by an oath not to reveal the secret till you were
+married. And I did not love you enough to perjure myself."
+
+"Wretch--miserable wretch!" cried Alvina. "Alas! to what a fate have I
+been doomed! Ah! why did they not let me rather perish than rear me to
+this doom? My heart is given to Alexis--my hand to Radetsky!"
+
+"Go down, sweet, to your bridegroom," said the old woman, who was
+totally deaf to her complaints, "or he will seek you here."
+
+Alvina descended to the banquet hall, uncertain what course to pursue.
+Escape appeared impossible, and what little she knew of Radetsky
+convinced her that he was as pitiless and base as her reputed father.
+She sank into a seat, pale, inanimate, and despairing.
+
+At that moment, ere any one present could say a word, a man, white
+with terror, rushed into the hall, and stammered out,--
+
+"My lord count!"
+
+"What is it, fellow? Speak!"
+
+"The Cossacks!" cried the man. And his information was confirmed by a
+loud hurrah, or rather yell, that rose without.
+
+"Raise the drawbridge!" cried the count. "Curses on it!" he added, "I
+had forgotten that drawbridge and portcullis, every means of defence,
+were gone long ago."
+
+"The Cossacks are in the court yard!" cried a second servant, rushing
+in.
+
+"A thousand curses on the dogs!" cried Radetsky, drawing his sword.
+"Count, look to your child; I will to the court yard with your
+fellows, to do what we may."
+
+By this time the court yard of the castle was filled with uproar and
+turmoil. The clashing of swords was mingled with pistol shots and
+groans, the shouts of triumph and the shrieks of despair. Alvina, left
+alone by her father and Radetsky, trembled not at the prospect of
+approaching death; she felt only joy at her deliverance from the arms
+of a hated bridegroom. But when the crackling of flames was heard,
+when a lurid light streamed up against the window, when wreaths of
+smoke began to pour in from the corridors, the instinct of
+self-preservation awakened in her breast, and almost unconsciously she
+shrieked aloud for help.
+
+Her appeal was answered unexpectedly. A tall, plumed figure dashed
+into the room; a vigorous arm was thrown around her waist, and she was
+lifted from her feet. Her unknown preserver, unimpeded by her light
+weight, passed into the corridor with a fleet step. The grand
+staircase was already on fire, but, drawing his furred cloak closely
+around her, the stranger dashed through the flames, and bore her out
+into the court yard. Almost before she knew it, she was sitting behind
+him on a fiery steed. The rider gave the animal the spur, and he
+dashed through the gate, followed by a hundred wild Cossacks, shouting
+and yelling in the frenzy of their triumph.
+
+Gratitude for an escape from a dreadful death was now banished from
+Alvina's mind by the fear of a worse fate at the hands of these wild
+men.
+
+"You have saved my life," she said to her unknown companion; "do not
+make that life a curse. Take pity on an unfortunate and sorely
+persecuted girl. I have no ransom to pay you; but free me, and you
+will earn my daily prayers and blessings."
+
+"Fear nothing," answered a deep and manly voice. "No harm is intended
+thee; no harm shall befall thee. I swear it on the word of a Cossack
+chieftain."
+
+Alvina was tranquillized at once by the evident sincerity of the
+assurance.
+
+"You are alone now in the world," pursued the stranger "I strove to
+save your bridegroom, but he fell before I reached him."
+
+"I loved him not," answered Alvina, coldly; "I mourn him not."
+
+"You may hate me for the deed," said the stranger, "and I would fain
+escape that woe; but here I vouch it in the face of heaven, Count
+Willnitz fell by my hand. My sabre clove him to the teeth. Years had
+passed, but I could not forget that he once laid the bloody scourge
+upon my back."
+
+"Alexis!" cried Alvina, now recognizing her preserver.
+
+"Yes, dear but unfortunate girl," cried the Cossack leader, turning
+and gazing on the young girl, "I feel that thou art lost to me
+forever. I have slain thy father. Love for thee should have stayed my
+hand; but I had sworn an oath of vengeance, and I kept my vow."
+
+"Alexis," whispered Alvina, "he was not my father. He was my bitterest
+enemy. Nor am I nobly born. Like you, I am an orphan."
+
+"Say you so?" shouted the Cossack. "Then thou art mine--mine and
+forever--joy of my youth--blessing of my manhood!"
+
+"Yes, thine--thine only."
+
+"But bethink thee, sweetest," said the Cossack; "I lead a strange wild
+life."
+
+"I will share it with thee," said Alvina, firmly.
+
+"My companions are rude men."
+
+"I shall see only thee."
+
+"My home is the saddle, my palace the wide steppe."
+
+"With thee, Alexis, I could be happy any where."
+
+"Then be it so," said the Cossack, joyously. "What ho!" he shouted, at
+the top of his ringing, trumpet-like voice. "Comrades, behold your
+hetman's bride!"
+
+From mouth to mouth the words of the Cossack chieftain were repeated,
+and oft as they were uttered wild shouts of joy rose from the bearded
+warriors; for they had loved the gallant Alexis from the moment when,
+a wayworn, famished, and bleeding fugitive, he came among them. They
+galloped round and round the hetman and his fair companion in dizzying
+circles, like the whirling leaves of autumn, firing their pistols,
+brandishing their lances and sabres, and making the welkin ring with
+their terrific shouts. Alvina clung, terrified, to the waist of her
+lover, and he finally silenced the noisy demonstrations by a wave of
+his hand. Then, under his leadership, and in more regular order, the
+formidable band of horsemen pursued their march to those distant
+solitudes where happiness awaited their chieftain and his bride.
+
+
+
+
+MARRIED FOR MONEY.
+
+
+"Jack Cleveland!" exclaimed a fast young man in a drab driving coat
+with innumerable capes, (it was twenty years ago, reader, in the palmy
+days of Tom and Jerry and tandem teams,) as he encountered an equally
+fast young man in Cornhill; "what's the matter with you?"
+
+"It's all over, Frank; I've gone and done it."
+
+"Gone and done what, you spooney?"
+
+"Proposed."
+
+"Proposed what?--a match at billiards, a trot on the milldam, or a
+main of cocks?"
+
+"Pooh!--something more serious," said Cleveland, gravely; "I've
+offered myself."
+
+"Offered yourself? To whom?"
+
+"Widow--Waffles--shy name--never mind--soon changed--one hundred and
+fifty thousand--cool, eh?--age forty--good looks--married for
+money--sheriff would have it--no friends--pockets to let--pays my
+debts--sets me up--house in Beacon Street--carriage--can't help it."
+
+"You're a candidate for Bedlam," said Frank; "I've a great mind to
+order you a strait jacket."
+
+"Be my bridesman--see me off--eh?" asked Cleveland.
+
+"Yes, yes, of course--it will be great fun."
+
+And so it was. Jack Cleveland was united to the widow Waffles in Trinity
+Church, and a smashing wedding it was. The party that followed it was, to
+use Cleveland's own expressions, "a crusher--all Boston invited--all Africa
+waiting--wax lights--champagne--music--ices--pretty girls--a bang-up
+execution."
+
+During the honeymoon Jack Cleveland was all attention to his bride,
+(_il faut soigner les anciennes_,) but he promised to indemnify
+himself by taking full and complete liberty so soon as that
+interesting period of time had been brought to a close. Besides, his
+chains sat lightly at first; for the widow was one of those splendid
+Lady Blessington kind of women, who at forty have just arrived at the
+imperial maturity of their charms, and she was deeply enamoured of the
+young gentleman whom she had chosen for her second partner in the
+matrimonial speculation. Moreover, she paid the debts of the fast
+young man with an exemplary cheerfulness. The only drawback to this
+gush of felicity was that her property was "tied up;" not a cent could
+Cleveland handle except by permission of his lady. Then she kept him
+as close to her apron strings as she did her Blenheim spaniel; she
+required him to obey her call as promptly as her coachman. Galling to
+his pride though it was, he was even forced to go a shopping with her;
+and the elegant Cleveland, who once thought it degrading to carry an
+umbrella, might be seen loaded with bandboxes, or nonchalantly lilting
+bundles of cashmere shawls. The only difference between Mrs.
+Cleveland's husband and her footman was that he received wages; but
+then the footman could leave when he chose, and there the parallel
+ended. Jack's habits had to submit to a rigid and inexorable
+censorship. "Those odious cigars" were prohibited, and then "his list
+of friends" was challenged. Frank Aikin, the bridesman, was tolerated
+the longest of all, and then he was "bluffed off" by Mrs. Cleveland,
+who determined to make her husband a domestic man. It was the old
+story of Hercules and Omphale modernized to suit the times.
+
+Jack began to think the happiest day of his life had made him the most
+miserable dog alive, and, like Sir Peter Teazle, "had lost all comfort
+in the world before his friends had done wishing him joy." But his
+debts were paid--that was a great consolation. Several streets in
+Boston, which were blocked up by creditors, as those of London were to
+the respected Mr. Richard Swiveller, were now opened by the magic wand
+of matrimony. He could exhibit his "Hyperion curls" in Washington
+Street, without any fear of a gentle "reminder" in the shape of a tap
+upon the shoulder.
+
+One morning, however, a lady was ushered up into the splendid drawing
+room in Beacon Street, being announced as Madame St. Germain. She was
+a showy French woman, about the same age as Mrs. Cleveland, and the
+latter waited with some curiosity to learn the object of her visit.
+
+"You are Mrs. Cleveland, I believe," said the French woman.
+
+Mrs. Cleveland bowed in her stateliest manner.
+
+"You have undertaken, I learn, to pay the debts of Monsieur Cleveland,
+contracted before your marriage."
+
+Mrs. Cleveland bowed again.
+
+"I hold a note of his drawn in my favor for a thousand dollars,
+payable at sight, with interest, dated two years back."
+
+"What was it given for?" asked Mrs. Cleveland, with some asperity.
+
+"Pardon me, madam--I cannot state that without the permission of your
+husband."
+
+Mrs. Cleveland applied her hand vigorously to a bell-pull
+communicating with her husband's dressing room.
+
+He made his presence in a splendid _robe de chambre_ and a Turkish cap
+with a gold tassel.
+
+"This woman," said his better half, "says you owe her a thousand
+dollars."
+
+"Monsieur cannot deny it," said the French woman, fixing her keen
+black eyes on the thunder-struck Cleveland.
+
+"It's all right--pay her up!" said Mr. Cleveland.
+
+"Not till I know what the debt was incurred for."
+
+"I can't tell you," said Mr. Cleveland.
+
+"I insist," said Mrs. Cleveland, stamping her foot.
+
+"Then I won't tell--if you die!" said the rebellious Cleveland.
+
+"I shall trouble you, ma'am, to leave my house," said the irritated
+mistress of the mansion. "Not one farthing on that note do you get out
+of me."
+
+"Then I shall be under the unpleasant necessity of taking legal
+measures to obtain the debt," said the French woman, rising. "Mr.
+Cleveland, I wish you very much happiness with your amiable lady."
+
+There was a storm--a regular equinoctial gale--after the departure of
+Madame St. Germain. Mrs. Cleveland was very provoking, and Mr.
+Cleveland indulged in epithets unbecoming a scholar and a gentleman.
+That night the "happy couple" luxuriated in separate apartments. The
+next day came a lawyer's letter, then a civil process, and finally Mr.
+John Cleveland was marched off to Leverett Street jail, where, after
+giving due notice to his creditor and obtaining bail, he was allowed
+the benefit of the "limits," with the privilege of "swearing out," at
+the expiration of thirty days.
+
+Jack engaged lodging at a little tavern, on the limits, where he found
+Frank Aikin, who had run through _his_ "pile," and a few kindred
+spirits of the fast young men school enacting the part of "gentlemen
+in difficulties." Cigars, champagne, and cards were ordered, and Jack
+became a fast young man once more. Towards the small hours of the
+morning, he forgot having married a widow, and thinking himself a
+bachelor, he proposed the health of a certain Miss Julia Vining, which
+was drank with three times three. The next morning, he sat down to a
+capital breakfast, with more fast young men, and for a whole week he
+enjoyed himself _en garcon_, without once thinking of the forsaken
+Dido in Beacon Street.
+
+One day, however, when he had exhausted his cash and credit, and a
+racking headache induced him to regret the speed of his late life, a
+carriage rattled up to the door of the tavern, his own door was
+shortly after thrown open, and a lady flung herself into his arms.
+Mrs. Cleveland looked really fascinating.
+
+"Come home, my dear Jack," said she, bursting into tears; "I've been
+so lonely without you."
+
+"Not so fast, Mrs. Cleveland," said the young gentleman, as he
+perceived his power. "I'm very happy where I am. I can't go back
+except on certain conditions."
+
+"Name them, dearest."
+
+"I'm to smoke as many cigars as I please."
+
+"Granted."
+
+"Not to carry any more bandboxes or tomcats."
+
+"Granted."
+
+"To give a dinner party to the 'boys' once in a while."
+
+"Granted--granted. And I've paid your note, and opened a cash account
+for you at the bank."
+
+"You are an angel," said Cleveland; "and now it's all over--that note
+was given Madame St. Germain for tuition of a young girl, Miss Julia
+Vining, whom I educated with the romantic notion of making her my
+wife, when she should arrive at a suitable age, at which period she
+ran off with a one-eyed French fiddler, and is now taking in sewing at
+191st Street, New York."
+
+The happy pair went home in their carriage, and we never heard of any
+differences between them. Mrs. Cleveland wears very well, and Mr.
+Cleveland is now an alderman, remarkable chiefly for the ponderosity
+of his person, and the heaviness of his municipal harangues. "Sich is
+life."
+
+
+
+
+THE EMIGRANT SHIP.
+
+
+On a summer's day, some years ago, business brought me to one of the
+wharves of this city, at the moment when a ship from Liverpool had
+just arrived, with some two hundred and fifty emigrants, men, women,
+and children, chiefly Irish. Much as I had heard and read of the
+condition of many of the poor passengers, I never fully realized their
+distresses until I personally witnessed them.
+
+Under the most favorable circumstances, the removal of families from
+the land of their birth is attended by many painful incidents. About
+to embark upon a long and perilous voyage, to seek the untried
+hospitalities of a stranger soil, the old landmarks and associations
+which the heartstrings grasp with a cruel tenacity are viewed through
+the mist of tears and agony.
+
+The old church--the weather-worn homestead--the ancient school house,
+the familiar play ground, and more sadly dear than all, the green
+graveyard, offer a mute appeal "more eloquent than words." But when to
+these afflictions of the heart are added the pangs of physical
+suffering and privation; when emigrants, in embarking, embark their
+all in the expenses of the voyage, and have no hope, even for
+existence, but in a happy combination of possible chances; when near
+and dear ones must be left behind, certainly to suffer, and probably
+to die,--the pangs of separation embrace all that can be conceived of
+agony and distress.
+
+The emigrant ship whose arrival we witnessed had been seventy odd days
+from port to port. Her passengers were of the poorest class. Their
+means had been nearly exhausted in going from Dublin to Liverpool, and
+in endeavors to obtain work in the latter city, previous to bidding a
+reluctant but eternal farewell to the old country. They came on board
+worn out--wan--the very life of many dependent on a speedy passage
+over the Atlantic. In this they were disappointed. The ship had
+encountered a succession of terrific gales; it had leaked badly, and
+they had been confined, a great part of the voyage, to their narrow
+quarters between decks, herded together in a noisome and pestilential
+atmosphere, littered with damp straw, and full of filth.
+
+What marvel that disease and death invaded their ranks? One after
+another, many died and were launched into the deep sea. The ship
+entered Fayal to refit, and there that clime of endless summer proved
+to the emigrants more fatal than the blast of the upas-poisoned valley
+of Java. The delicious oranges, and the mild Pico wine, used liberally
+by the passengers, sowed the seeds of death yet more freely among
+their ranks. On the passage from Fayal, the mortality was dreadful,
+but at length, decimated and diseased, the band of emigrants arrived
+at Boston.
+
+It was a summer's day--but no cheering ray of light fell upon the
+spires of the city. The sky was dark and gloomy; the bay spread out
+before the eye like a huge sheet of lead, and the clouds swept low and
+heavily over the hills and house tops.
+
+After the vessel was moored, all the passengers who were capable of
+moving, or of being moved, came up or were brought up on deck. We
+scanned their wan and haggard features with curiosity and pity.
+
+Here was the wreck of an athletic man. His eyes, deep-sunken in their
+orbits, were nearly as glassy as those of a corpse; his poor attire
+hung loosely on his square shoulders. His matted beard rendered his
+sickly, greenish countenance yet more wan and livid. He crawled about
+the deck _alone_--his wife and five children, they for whom he had
+lived and struggled, for whose sake he was making a last desperate
+exertion, had all been taken from him on the voyage. We addressed him
+some questions touching his family.
+
+"They are all gone," said he, "the wife and the childer. The last
+one--the babby--died this mornin'--she lies below. They're best off
+where they are."
+
+In another place sat a shivering, ragged man, the picture of despair.
+A few of his countrymen, who had gathered round him, offered him some
+food. He might have taken it eagerly some days before. _Now_ he gazed
+on vacancy, without noticing their efforts to induce him to take some
+nourishment. Still they persevered, and one held a cooling glass of
+lemonade to his parched lips.
+
+Seated on the after hatchway was a little boy who had that morning
+lost both his parents. He shed no tear. Familiarity with misery had
+deprived him of that sad consolation.
+
+We passed on to a group of Irishmen gathered round an old gray-haired
+man lying at length upon the forward deck. One of them was kneeling
+beside him.
+
+"Father, father!" said he, earnestly, "rouse up, for the love of
+Heaven. See here--I've brought ye some porridge--tak a sup ov it--it
+will give ye heart and life."
+
+"Sorrow a bit of life's left in the old man any how. Lave him alone,
+Jamie."
+
+"Lift him ashore," said the mate--"he wants air."
+
+The dying man was carefully lifted on the wharf, and laid down upon a
+plank. His features changed rapidly during the transit. His head now
+fell back--the pallid hue of death invaded his lips--his lower jaw
+relaxed--the staring eyeballs had no speculation in them--a slight
+shudder convulsed his frame. The son kneeled beside him; closed his
+eyes--it was all over. And there, in the open air, with no covering to
+shield his reverend locks from the falling rain, passed away the soul
+of the old man from its earthly tabernacle.
+
+The hospital cart arrived. Busy agents lifted into it, with
+professional _sang froid_, crippled age and tottering childhood. But
+all the spectators of this harrowing scene testified, by their
+expressions, sympathy and sorrow, one low-browed ruffian alone
+excepted.
+
+"Serves 'em right ----d ----n 'em!" said he, savagely. "Why don't they
+stay at home in their own country, and not come here to take the bread
+out of honest people's mouths?"
+
+Honest, quotha? If ever "flat burglary" and "treason dire" were
+written on a man's face, it stood out in staring capitals upon that
+Cain-like brow.
+
+But there were lights as well as shadows to the picture. Out of that
+grim den of death, out of that floating lazar house, there came a few
+blooming maidens and stalwart youths, like fair flowers springing from
+the rankness of a charnel. Their sorrows were but for the misfortunes
+of others; and even these were a while forgotten in the joy of meeting
+near and dear relatives, and old friends upon the shore of the
+promised land. They went their way rejoicing, and with them passed the
+solitary ray of sunshine that streamed athwart the dark horrors of the
+emigrant ship, like the wandering pencil of light that sometimes
+visits the condemned cell of a prison.
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST OF THE STAGE COACHES.
+
+A FRAGMENT OF A CLUB-ROOM CONVERSATION.
+
+
+"Did you ever," said the one-eyed gentleman, fixing his single sound
+optic upon us with an intensity which made it glow like one of the
+coals in the grate before us, "did you ever hear how I met with this
+misfortune?"
+
+"What misfortune, sir?"
+
+"The misfortune which made a Cyclops of me--the loss of my left eye."
+
+"Never, sir. Pray how was it?"
+
+"Put out by the cinder of a locomotive," growled the one-eyed
+gentleman, seizing the poker and stirring up the fire viciously. "Bad
+things these railroads, sir," he added, when he had demolished a huge
+fragment of sea coal. "Only last week--little boy playing on bank in
+his father's garden--little dog ran on the track--boy went down to
+call him off--express train came along--forty-five miles an hour and
+no stoppages--ran over boy and dog--agonized parents sought for the
+remains--nothing found except one shoe, the buckle of his hatband, and
+brass collar of the dog."
+
+"Extraordinary!"
+
+"No, sir; not extraordinary," said the one-eyed gentleman. "I maintain
+it's a common occurrence. Sir, I keep a railroad journal at home, as
+large as a family Bible. It is filled with brief accounts--_brief_,
+mind you--of railroad accidents. Next year I shall have to buy another
+book."
+
+"Then you are a decided enemy of railroads?"
+
+"Decided!" said the one-eyed gentleman. "Their prevalence and extent
+is a proof that the age is lapsing into barbarism. Ah! you remember
+the stage coaches?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Well, sir," said the one-eyed gentleman, warmly, "travelling was
+travelling in those days; sir, it was a pleasure. The coaches were fast
+enough for any reasonable man; ten miles an hour, including stoppages.
+Ah!" he added, smacking his lips, "what a fine thing it was to start on
+a journey of a glorious October morning, when every thing looked bright
+and smiling! You mounted to the box or the roof, well wrapped up in your
+greatcoat and shawl, with your trunk safely strapped upon the rack
+behind. The driver was a man of substance--solid, of a gravity tempered
+with humor, a giant in a brown box-coat, with gray hat and mittens. How
+he handled the ribbons and took his cattle through Elm Street! How the
+long bridges rumbled and thundered as we bowled along away, away into
+the country! The country! it _was_ the country then; inhabited by
+country people, not peopled with a mixed society of farmers and cits,
+six o' one and half a dozen of t'other. How nicely we glided along!
+There were birds, in those days, singing by the roadside; now the
+confounded locomotives have scared them all off. By and by we came to a
+tavern. Out rushed a troop of hostlers and keepers skilled in horse
+flesh. The cattle were just allowed to wet their lips, water was dashed
+on their legs and feet, and then, after the parcels and papers had been
+tossed off, away we went again. Five miles farther on, we pulled up to
+change. The fresh team was led out, bright, shining, and glittering, in
+tip-top condition. The driver descended to stretch his legs and
+personally superintend the putting to of the fresh horses. When he
+mounted the box again, his experienced eye glanced rapidly at the team,
+and then, with an 'all right--let 'em go!' we were on the road once
+more."
+
+The one-eyed gentleman paused, after this flow of eloquence, and gazed
+pensively into the midst of the glowing coals. After a few moments'
+silence, he resumed:--
+
+"Rather a singular occurrence happened to me last year on the 14th of
+October, about half past twelve, P.M. I am thus particular about
+dates, because this event is one that forms an era in my life. I had
+been driving across the country in my gig, to visit a friend who had
+recently moved upon a farm. The localities were new to me, and the
+roads blind. Guideboards were few, and human beings fewer. In short, I
+got astray, and hadn't the remotest conception of what part of the
+country I was in. It was a cold, cloudy day, with a sort of drizzling
+Scotch mist that wet one to the bone. I plodded along in hopes of soon
+reaching some tavern, where I could bait my horse and get some dinner
+for myself. All at once, at a turn of the road, just after having
+crossed the Concord River, I perceived a stage coach coming towards
+me. I had heard no noise of wheels or horses' feet; but there it was.
+The road was narrow, and the coachman pulled up to let me work my way
+past. The vehicle was a queer old affair, that looked as if it had
+been dug out of some antediluvian stable yard. The curtains were brown
+with age and dust, and riddled with holes; the body was bare and
+worm-eaten, and the springs perfectly green with mould. The horses
+were thin and lank, and the harness in as sorry a condition as the
+coach. The driver's clothes, which were very old fashioned, hung about
+him in loose folds, and he gazed upon me with a strange, stony stare
+that was absolutely appalling; yet his lips unclosed as I worked past
+him, and he exclaimed in a harsh, croaking voice, 'One eye!' Thereupon
+two or three queer people poked their heads out of the coach window.
+There was one old woman with false teeth, in an unpleasant state of
+decay, and a voice like a parrot. 'One eye!' she shrieked, as she
+gazed on me with an eye as stony as the coachman. A pale, simpering
+miss smirked in my face, and cried, 'One eye!' and a military
+gentleman, with a ghastly frown, hissed forth the same words. I should
+have scrutinized the queer coach and the queer people closer, had not
+my horse--my good, old, quiet, steady horse--seized the bit in his
+mouth and started off at a dead run. I tried to saw him up, but it was
+no use; he ran for a couple of miles, and did not slacken till he had
+brought me to the door of an old, decayed tavern, where I resigned him
+to the charge of a lame hostler, and made my way into the house in
+search of the landlord. I found him at last--a poor, poverty-pinched
+man, who had been ruined by the railroad. He complained bitterly of
+the hard times. 'But,' said I, 'you must have some custom; the stage
+coaches----' 'Bless your soul,' replied he, 'there hasn't been a coach
+on this road for fifteen years.' 'What do you, mean?' said I; 'I met a
+coach and passengers two miles back, near the river.' The landlord
+turned pale. 'What day is this?' he asked. 'The 14th of October.' 'The
+14th of October!' cried the landlord; 'I remember that date well. That
+day, fifteen years since, was the last trip of the old mail coach. It
+left here, with Bill Snaffle, the driver, and three insides, a
+military man, an old woman, and a young lady. They were never heard of
+after they left here. Their trail was followed as far as the bridge.
+It is supposed that the horses got frightened at something, and backed
+off into the Concord River. But I have heard,' added the landlord, in
+a hollow whisper, 'that on this anniversary the ghost of that coach
+and company may be seen upon the turnpike. More, I will tell you, in
+confidence, that I have seen them myself.' After this I was convinced
+that I had been favored--if favor it may be called--with a spiritual
+visitation."
+
+The one-eyed gentleman looked me full in the face, as if to say, "What
+do you think of it?" It was useless to argue with him; so I only shook
+my head. He nodded his in a very mysterious manner, and fell to poking
+the fire with redoubled activity; and I bade him good night, and left
+him to pursue his occupation.
+
+
+
+
+THE SEXTON OF ST. HUBERT'S.
+
+A STORY OF OLD ENGLAND.
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+THE QUEEN OF THE MAY.
+
+
+In a remote region in the northern part of England, the people still
+cherish an attachment to old usages and sports, and hold the
+observance of Christmas, May-day, and other time-honored festivals, a
+sacred obligation. One village, in particular, is famous for its
+May-day sports, which, as the curate is a little withered antiquary,
+are conducted with great ceremony and fidelity to old authorities. The
+May-pole is brought home, garlanded, and decked with ribbons, to the
+sound of pipe and tabor, surrounded by a laughing throng of sturdy
+yeomen and buxom maidens. It is erected on the great green, in the
+centre of the village, to the universal delight of old and young, and
+the dancing commences round it with high glee. The scene presented is
+like that described by Goldsmith,--
+
+    "Where all the village train, from labor free,
+    Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree;
+    While many a pastime circled in the shade,
+    The young contending as the old surveyed;
+    And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground,
+    And sleights of art and feats of strength went round."
+
+It was a delightful spring, that of 17--, and a softer sky never
+before smiled upon the village-green of Redwood, upon the 1st of May;
+and among the merry damsels dancing round the May-pole, no heart was
+happier, and no step was lighter, than that of Margaret Ellis, who,
+for the first time, joined in the sports of the day. She was a child
+of May, and this was the sixteenth anniversary of her birthday. A gay
+brunette, her sparkling eyes had all the fire and the mirth of the
+sunny and passionate south, while no lighter or more delicate foot
+than hers could have been found upon the merry green. A rich bloom
+mantled on her cheek, her lips were fresh and red, and her regular
+teeth, displayed as she panted in the dance, were white as unsullied
+snow. A tight little bodice, and a milk-white frock, set off the
+charms of her person in the best manner. Then there was an air of
+gayety and innocence about her which delighted every good-natured
+observer; and all the villagers allowed that Margaret Ellis deserved
+the tiara of flowers that crowned her Queen of the May. She blushed at
+the tokens of good will and approbation, as she placed her hand in
+that of a young and rustic stranger, who led her off triumphantly at
+the head of the dancers. The youth was fair-haired, ruddy, athletic,
+and active; and those who saw them in the dance could not help
+acknowledging that they were a lovely pair.
+
+There was one who regarded them with eyes of jealous displeasure. This
+was a man of forty, of a handsome face and figure, but swarthy,
+dark-haired, and melancholy. He bent over the seat upon which old
+Farmer Ellis and his dame were seated, and whispered, "Do you know the
+young man who is dancing with your daughter?"
+
+"Ah! he be a right good young mon, I warrant me," said the dame. "He
+do come fra the next county. William Evans, he calls himself."
+
+"He calls himself!--umph!" muttered the person who had first spoken.
+"But what do others call him? Who knows any thing about him? Who can
+vouch for his character? I would not suffer a daughter of mine to be
+gadding about, and dancing with a stranger."
+
+"Whoy, for the matter o' that," said Farmer Ellis, "you were nought
+but a stranger yourself, when you first did come to see us, Maister
+Pembroke. We didn't know you were the sexton of St. Hubert's. And yet
+you turned out a right good friend to me, mon; for when ye first knew
+me, things were deadly cross wi' me. What wi' the rot among my sheep,
+and the murrain among my cattle, I were all but ruined. Short crops
+and a hard landlord are bitter bad things. But you were the salvation
+of me, and I'll work my fingers to the bone, but what you shall have
+your own again, John Pembroke."
+
+"There is one way in which you can liquidate your debt."
+
+"Name it, Maister Pembroke," said the farmer, eagerly.
+
+"No matter," muttered the sexton, and a hollow sigh escaped his lips.
+"I had an idea, but it is gone. Touching the stranger, in whom you
+both repose such confidence. In what manner does he earn his daily
+bread?"
+
+"Whoy," said the farmer, "in the way that Adam did, mon. He do say he
+is a gardener."
+
+"A likely tale!" ejaculated the sexton. "Look at his hands. Why, his
+fingers are delicate and white. Your gardener has horny fingers, and a
+palm of iron."
+
+"Dang it! so they be!" cried Ellis. "Well, I never noticed that afore.
+Whoy, dame, he may be an impostor And though he be so cruel koind,
+and deadly fond of the girl, now, he may forsake--may----"
+
+"Look at, them, now," said the sexton of St. Hubert's. "See how he
+grasps her hand; and how, as he whispers his soft, insinuating
+flattery in her ear, she blushes and smiles upon him. Damnation!"
+
+"Whoy, John!" exclaimed Dame Ellis; "what would the rector say to hear
+thee? Thou art surely distraught."
+
+And now, as Margaret, flushed and panting with exercise, was suffering
+her partner to lead her towards her seat, her father beckoned her to
+approach.
+
+"Come hither, girl," said he. The smiling maiden obeyed. "Margaret,"
+said the old man, "thou knowest I love thee. I ha' always been cruel
+koind to thee, and so has thy mother, girl. If any harm was to happen
+to thee, I should take it desperately to heart. I should, indeed. It
+would kill thy father, Margaret. Now, William Evans may be a good
+young man, and he may not; but we must beware of strangers. Wait till
+we have tried him a bit. Many a handsome nag turns out a vicious one.
+So it be my pleasure, and the dame's, that thou dost not dance any
+more to-day wi' William Evans; and even if he speaks to thee, be a
+little offish loike to him."
+
+The poor girl sighed. "I hope, sir," said she, glancing at the sexton,
+"that no person possessed of an unhappy and suspicious temper has been
+prejudicing you against poor William. I hope Mr. Pembroke----"
+
+"Hush, girl--hush!" cried Ellis. "Doant thee say a word against that
+man. But for him we mought all ha' been beggars. Do as I bid thee,
+girl, and doan't thee ask no questions; for you know I've got no head
+to argury."
+
+Margaret slowly sank into a seat. The sexton leaned over her, and
+addressed to her some commonplace remarks, to all of which she
+returned answer in monosyllables. When the music recommenced a lively
+air, William advanced, and solicited her hand for the next dance. Poor
+Margaret bent her eyes upon the ground, and falteringly refused.
+Thinking he could not have heard her rightly, Evans again asked the
+question, and received, a second time, the same answer. For a moment
+his countenance expressed astonishment; the next there was a look of
+grief, and then his lip curled, and drawing himself up proudly, he
+stalked away. He was followed by the sexton of St. Hubert's, who
+overtook him, and laid his hand upon his shoulder. William turned
+fiercely, and endeavored to shake off the grasp.
+
+"Young man," said the sexton, "you are discovered!"
+
+"Discovered!" exclaimed William. "What do you mean?"
+
+"You understand me," said the sexton; "your manners, your language,
+your figure, contradict the story you have fabricated. Margaret shall
+never be your victim. With her your boasted arts are valueless!"
+
+"If you were a gentleman----" said William.
+
+"Ha, ha!" laughed the sexton of St. Hubert's. "Is this the resentment
+of a rustic? Go, young man; you have exposed yourself."
+
+"Remove your hand!" said the young man; "and think it unusual
+forbearance on my part, that I do not chastise you as you deserve. We
+shall meet again, and with a sterner greeting." So they parted.
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE GYPSY CAMP.
+
+
+The clear, unshadowed sun, as it declined towards the western verge of
+the horizon, shone brightly upon the gypsy encampment, a few miles
+from Redwood. The wandering tribe had displayed their proverbial
+taste, in their selection of a spot wherein to pitch their tents. A
+green and glossy pasture was partly surrounded by a luxuriant forest
+of ancient oaks, which supplied the crew with firewood; while a
+beautiful and clear stream, the pride and boast of the county, curved
+into the waving grass land, and kept it ever fresh and verdant. Here
+and there its silvery bosom reflected a small tent, or the figure of
+an idler, bending over the bank, with fishing rod in hand, a perfect
+picture of patience and philosophy. Half a dozen tents served to
+accommodate the gregarious fraternity; and though the sail cloths
+which composed them were worn and weather-beaten, yet their brown hues
+harmonized well with the rich tints of the landscape, and showed
+distinct enough against the dark background of the forest. As the
+shades of the evening darkened the ancestral trees, a line of fire was
+lit up, the flames of which glared ruddily against the huge trunks of
+the woodland, and played and flickered in the rippling stream. Huge
+kettles, suspended on forked sticks, were beginning to send up a
+savory steam; and several swarthy beings, lounging round the fires,
+occasionally fed them, or basking in the blaze, watched the bubbling
+of the caldrons with intense anxiety. Even the king of the gypsies
+observed the preparations for supper with an eager air, which ill
+assorted with his lofty forehead and reverend white beard. Every
+moment some stroller would come in with a pilfered fowl, or a basket
+of eggs; and each addition to the feast was hailed with shouts of
+applause by the swarthy crew.
+
+Somewhat remote from this scene of bustle and noise, at the door of a
+small tent, sat two female gypsies. One of these was the queen, an
+aged crone, who, though bent with age and care, and wrinkled by time
+and the indulgence of vehement passions, yet prided herself upon the
+unfrosted darkness of her raven tresses, which fell over her shoulders
+in profusion. A turban of rich crimson cloth crowned her head, and a
+shawl of the same color and material was wrapped around her shoulders.
+Her skinny hands were supported by a silver-headed staff, which was
+covered with quaint carvings. Her gown was of dark serge, and her
+shoes were pointed, and turned up in the Oriental fashion, and
+garnished with broad silver buckles. She sat apart, and the rising
+moon shone down upon her dusky figure, and threw her wild features
+into bold relief. At her feet sat a beautiful girl, with dark Grecian
+features, and a full, voluptuous form. She, too, had long, flowing,
+raven tresses, into which were twisted strings of pearl. From a
+necklace of topaz hung a little silver crucifix, resting upon a full
+and heaving bust, to which was fitted a close jacket, made of
+deep-blue cloth, and fastened together with loops and silver buttons.
+Her soft and round arms were naked, save at the shoulders, and her
+wrists were encircled with tarnished gold bracelets. Her white
+petticoat was short enough to display a well-turned ankle, and a small
+foot, encased in neat black slippers. Her features, dark and
+sun-browned, showed to more advantage in the pale moonlight than they
+would have done in the broad blaze of day. The gypsy girl sat at the
+feet of the queen, and looking up in her face, listened attentively to
+her discourse.
+
+"Myra," said the queen of the gypsies, "do you love him yet?"
+
+"Love him!" repeated the girl. "Yes, mother--passionately. To obtain
+his hand--his heart, I would peril every thing!"
+
+"Strange and mysterious passion!" said the crone, "which defies reason
+and law. Many years agone I loved with the same intense devotion. The
+same fiery blood courses in your veins; the same contempt of
+obstacles. Yet the man I loved was nobler and prouder than the sexton
+of St. Hubert's. We lived among the Gitanos of Spain, when we were
+wedded. Five sons I bore to the partner of my cares. Where are they?
+One followed his father to the gibbet; a second hurled defiance at his
+enemies, as he perished in the flames of an _auto da fe_; the third
+and fourth died in the galleys; the fifth--the fifth, Myra--my best
+beloved, my brave, my beautiful, received his death wound in defending
+me from outrage. _You are his child!_ Judge, then, how I love you, my
+daughter. You love the sexton of St. Hubert's--he shall marry you."
+
+"Ah, mother!" said the gypsy girl, "I fear me he is lost. He is the
+accepted lover of Margaret Ellis. She did love a young stranger; but
+the sexton of St. Hubert's has Farmer Ellis in his debt, and
+threatened to throw him in jail, if the latter did not grant him the
+hand of his daughter. He has done so, and the wedding day is fixed.
+Alas! before he saw his May-day queen, he loved me, and promised to
+marry me. Often beneath that very moon, mother, has he sat and told me
+his love. When I smiled at his protestations, he would speak of his
+wealth, and tell me of hidden stores of gold, for a thrifty and a
+rich man is the sexton of St. Hubert's. I do not love him less because
+he does not frown upon our wandering tribe, but has lax principles
+that suit the fiery passions of our race. I know not in what consists
+the art by which he won me; it is enough for me to know that I am
+devoted to him. Alas! that knowledge is too much, since he has owned
+the fascination of the Queen of the May."
+
+"Enough said, daughter!" cried the crone. "Before the altar he shall
+marry you. He shall love you better than he loves the May queen. What
+are her attractions when compared to yours? Praise from the old is
+little to the young; yet let me say that I have wandered east and
+west, north and south; have seen the Georgian and Sicilian maids, have
+seen the dark-haired girls of Naples, and the donnas of Madrid; yet
+never did these aged eyes rest on a finer form or face than yours, my
+daughter."
+
+The gypsy girl smiled.
+
+"Ay," said the old woman, "now you look lovelier than ever. That smile
+is like a sunbeam to my heart; it thaws the frost of age. Believe me,
+Myra, the sexton of St. Hubert's shall adore you."
+
+"Then you must have love charms," said the gypsy girl, blushing.
+
+"Love charms I have," said the old woman, "and those of wondrous
+potency. We are a favored race, Myra. Descended from the old
+Egyptians, we inherit their mysterious learning. To a few among us,
+the queens and magi of our tribes, there has come down a knowledge of
+charms and medicine, and some of the secrets of astrology. Go, Myra;
+leave me. I will provide for your peace. Yes, yes, I have love charms.
+I have them!"
+
+The gypsy girl smiled, rose, kissed the hand of her grandmother, and
+then bounded away like a fawn.
+
+"Poor child!" muttered the old woman, when alone; "she must not die of
+a broken heart. Love charms, did she say! Yes--I have them for fools;
+but the love charm I shall use to give her joy is poison. The
+betrothed bride of the sexton of St. Hubert's lies ill of an unknown
+malady. The physicians cannot do her good, for she is sick of a
+wounded heart. To-night the sexton of St. Hubert's, who has faith in
+my skill, comes to seek a remedy. He shall have one. Does he think to
+spurn the poor gypsy girl? He is mistaken. He plighted his troth to
+her in the silence of the forest; they broke a piece of gold across a
+running brook; they swore truth and fidelity! One has broken the oath,
+but it shall be sworn anew. None but Myra shall wed the sexton of St.
+Hubert's!"
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+RETRIBUTION.
+
+
+It was a fierce and stormy night. The wind howled around the houses of
+Redwood, and wherever a shutter had lost its fastening, it flapped to
+and fro with a frequent and alarming sound. The rain, too, descended
+in torrents, and flooded the streets of the village, while ever and
+anon heavy peals of thunder and vivid flashes of lightning increased
+the terror of the night. In the house of Farmer Ellis a few persons
+were assembled to witness the bridal of the sexton of St. Hubert's.
+The bridegroom was as one excited by wine, for there was a wild
+radiance in his eyes and an unwonted smile upon his lips, and he
+occasionally gave utterance to some jest, and when it failed of
+producing the expected mirth, his own laugh sounded hollow and
+strange. The bride, too, so pearly pale, in her white dress, with
+white roses in her hair, seemed like the bride of Corinth in the
+German tale. A few of the guests, huddled anxiously together,
+whispered among themselves, "It is a churchyard bridal."
+
+Still the cake and wine went round, and the strange laugh of the
+bridegroom was more frequent. The night wore on, and the arrival of
+the clergyman was prolonged far beyond the expected time. At length he
+came, and the ceremony was about to take place, when the bride
+suddenly sank in the arms of her companions. They raised her, and
+applied the usual remedies resorted to in cases of fainting, but the
+vital spark itself had fled.
+
+In the depth of a stormy night, the sexton of St. Hubert's sought the
+queen of the gypsies. He was mounted on an active horse, and
+accompanied by the sheriff of the county and a few resolute men, well
+mounted and armed to the teeth. As he approached the river which
+bounded the gypsy camp upon one side, the sexton looked in vain for a
+guiding light--no fires blazed upon the green, no hidden glare was
+reflected in the mirror of the stream. Still he spurred on his horse,
+and followed hard by his companions, gallantly forded the stream and
+crossed the open meadows. The tents had all been struck, and no sound
+was heard in that deserted place, except the rushing of the boisterous
+wind and the tinkling of the raindrops as they fell upon the river.
+The parties reined up their horses, and the sexton and the sheriff
+held a brief conference together. While they were yet conversing, a
+broad and brilliant blaze shot up from the centre of the forest,
+illuminating a wide and well-trodden path which led directly to the
+light. The first flash of radiance dazzled the eyes of the horsemen,
+but when they became accustomed to the glare, they beheld distinctly
+several wild forms lounging around the fire, evidently unconscious of
+the approach of danger.
+
+"Now is our time, my lads," said the sheriff, in a low tone. "Forward,
+and we shall have them all."
+
+Every rowel was instantly employed, and the party pushed forward at a
+gallop. Bowing their heads to avoid the swaying branches, they bent
+over their horses' necks in the intense ardor of pursuit. The sheriff
+and the sexton rode side by side, and had nearly attained their
+object, when their horses fell suddenly, and threw them to the ground
+with violence. In fine, the whole party had stumbled upon pitfalls dug
+for them, and not a horseman of the troop escaped an overthrow. While
+they were rolling on the ground, entangled in the stirrups, and
+receiving severe injuries from the struggling horses, a shrill cry
+arose from the depth of the woods, and a dozen stout ruffians set upon
+them, seized, and pinioned them. The sexton and the sheriff were
+conducted by two of the gang to the presence of the gypsy queen, who
+sat upon a rude form raised upon the trunk of a huge oak, and
+sheltered by an ample awning of oiled cloth. The sheriff's followers
+were borne away in another direction. The wild woman and her wilder
+attendants were perfectly distinct in the ruddy firelight, though the
+whole scene had, to the eyes of the victims, the appearance of a
+vision of night.
+
+"Well, sirs," said the queen, "you came to see us, and you have found
+us. Have you not some message for us? You myrmidon of the law, have
+you no greeting for the queen of the gypsies?"
+
+The sheriff looked at the queen and then at her attendants. They were
+fierce-looking, unshorn fellows, with butchers' knives stuck in their
+rope girdles, and seemed but to await a nod from her tawny majesty to
+employ their formidable weapons.
+
+"Have you nothing for us?" asked the dark lady.
+
+"Nothing," said the sheriff, faintly.
+
+"Ho, ho!" laughed the wrinkled crone. "The man of law is forgetful.
+You, _Dommerar_, search him, and see if he speaks the truth."
+
+A sandy-haired little fellow advanced at the summons, and rifled the
+pockets of the sheriff with a dexterity which proved him an adept in
+the business. A teacher of music would have envied his fingering.
+Having caused the pockets of the sheriff to disgorge, he thus, in the
+canting language, enumerated their contents:--
+
+"The _moabite's ribbin runs thin_, (the sheriff's cash runs low.) He
+has no _mint_, (gold,) and only a _mopus_ or two."
+
+"Fool!" said the queen, "has he no paper?"
+
+"Ay, ay, missus, here's his _fiddle_," (writ,) was the answer.
+
+"Give it me," cried the queen. "Here, you _patrico_, our eyes are bad.
+Read this scrawl, and acquaint us with the contents."
+
+The _patrico_, or hedge priest, a fellow in a rusty, black suit, with
+a beard of three weeks' growth, bleared eyes, and a red, Bardolph
+nose, took the writ, which he had more difficulty in reading than Tony
+Lumpkin, when he received the letter of Hastings. At first, he held it
+upside down, then reversed it, looking at it at arm's length, and then
+gave it a closer scrutiny. He finally gave it as his opinion, that it
+empowered the _queer-cuffin_ (so he termed the sheriff) to seize upon
+the so called queen of the gypsies, accused of the crime of murder,
+and also to apprehend her followers. When he had concluded, the old
+crone snatched the writ from his hand, and, tearing it to pieces,
+flung the fragments into the face of the sheriff.
+
+"Take him away," said she, "and leave us alone with the sexton of St.
+Hubert's. Guard him well, for we wish to show him how we administer
+justice among us. We will be judge and jury, and our _upright man_
+shall be the executioner."
+
+She waved her tawny hand with the air of a princess dismissing her
+courtiers, and her mandate was obeyed. She was left alone with the
+sexton of St. Hubert's. Looking him steadily in the face, she said,--
+
+"John Pembroke, I give you joy of your marriage."
+
+"Wretched woman!" said the sexton, "you poisoned her. By your hand she
+died."
+
+"You are mistaken," answered the old woman, with a bitter smile. "She
+is not dead, but sleepeth. You see the devil can quote Scripture. It
+was my first intention to have poisoned her; but my second thoughts
+were better. So, instead of the medicine you sought, I gave you a
+powerful narcotic, which has thrown her into a deep sleep. She lies,
+at this moment, you know, in the chapel of St. Hubert's. There are
+flowers on her coffin, and there is a shroud around her. If I am not
+very much mistaken, about this hour she awakes."
+
+"And perishes! Fiend in human shape, how you have deceived me! At this
+hour, remote from help, my Margaret is dying."
+
+"She is not your Margaret, neither is she dying," said the crone.
+"Listen to me. I sent a trusty messenger to him that Margaret
+loves--to him who loves her fondly and faithfully--and if all things
+have gone as well as I anticipate, by this time she is in his arms.
+The draught she drank is harmless."
+
+"Cursed deceiver!" cried the sexton, struggling frantically to free
+himself from the ligatures which bound him. "You have done an accursed
+deed. You have deprived me of my betrothed bride."
+
+"Your betrothed bride!" said the queen of the gypsies. "Behold her!"
+She waved her hand, and Myra stood before the sexton of St. Hubert's.
+"There she stands," said the gypsy. "Have you forgotten that your
+troth is plighted to her? The bride and the priest are ready. Man of
+guilt and passion, wed her you may, wed her you must!"
+
+"Never!" cried the sexton. "When I sought your lawless crew to indulge
+my love of revelling and pleasure, the person of Myra lighted a fire
+in my breast. But it was an unholy flame. I will never marry her. Let
+her live--live to be branded with infamy and disgrace!"
+
+"Ha!" cried the crone, rising from her seat. "Is it so? Speak, Myra!
+child of my heart, is it so?"
+
+The gypsy girl clasped her hands together, and hung her head in shame.
+Her cheeks were suffused with crimson; then they became deadly pale,
+and she sank lifeless on the ground.
+
+"You have killed her!" shrieked the gypsy queen, "and dearly shall you
+rue it."
+
+She placed a whistle to her lips, and blew a shrill blast. But she
+received a far different answer than she had anticipated; for one of
+the sheriff's men had succeeded in escaping from the hands of the
+gypsy crew, and galloped to the neighboring town, where a troop of
+horse was quartered. The commanding officer instantly repaired to the
+gypsy camp, where he arrived in time to apprehend the crew before
+they had committed any act of violence. The sexton of St. Hubert's did
+not long survive this night, and Myra became a maniac. The fate of the
+lovers we shall next describe.
+
+When the lover of Margaret received the message of the queen of the
+gypsies, he repaired to the spot where his mistress lay, to all
+appearance, in the arms of death. But life had not departed; and even
+as he hung gazing over her, a faint color mounted to her cheek, and
+her bosom began to heave beneath her white garment. He raised her in
+his arms, bore her to the air, and she revived. When her senses were
+fully restored, she consented to guard against another separation by
+marrying her lover and savior. William had provided a humble
+post-chaise to convey his bride far from the scene of her past perils
+and temptations. They journeyed by slow stages to the north, and at
+the close of a few days entered a romantic village. The lover
+bridegroom pointed out a gray and noble old pile, the turrets of which
+rose lofty above the waving trees of an ancient park. He asked if she
+should like to visit it. She replied in the affirmative, and they
+drove, unchallenged, through the gateway and along a noble avenue
+shaded by huge oaks. When they reached the portals of the building,
+the post-boy stopped the horses, dismounted, threw open the door of
+the chaise, and let down the steps. William lifted his companion from
+her seat in his arms.
+
+"Margaret," said he, "look up. This is Woodley Castle, and you are
+Lady Armitage."
+
+
+
+
+JACK WITHERS.
+
+
+Every body liked Jack Withers. He was a handsome, active young fellow
+of five-and-twenty, of a good family, an orphan, who came into
+possession of thirty thousand dollars when he came of age. In this age
+of California gold, when fortunes are made by shovelling dust, and the
+wonders of Aladdin's treasure house are realized by men of no capital
+but pickaxes and muscles, thirty thousand dollars does not seem a
+prodigious sum. Yet our great-grandfathers retired from business on
+that amount, and were thought, at least, comfortably well off; and
+even nowadays, thirty thousand dollars, judiciously managed, will keep
+a man out of the poorhouse, and give him a clean shirt and a leg of
+mutton for his lifetime. But poor Jack was not a judicious manager,
+and a tandem team and champagne suppers, with a shooting-box and turf
+speculations, soon made ducks and drakes of a little fortune. Thus at
+twenty-five, our friend Jack was _minus_; or, in the elegant
+phraseology of the day, "a gentleman at large with pockets to let."
+
+When a man's riches have taken wings and _vamosed_, when all his old
+uncles are used up, and he has no prospective legacy to fall back
+upon, he is generally cut by the acquaintances of his prosperous days.
+The memory of "what he used to was" is seldom cherished, and the
+unhappy victim of prodigality discovers to his sorrow, that
+
+    "'Tis a very good world that we live in,
+    To lend, or to spend, or to give in;
+    But to beg, or to borrow, or get a man's own,
+    'Tis the very worst world, sir, that ever was known."
+
+Jack, however, was not destined to drink the cup of this bitter
+experience. He was just as popular and just as much courted without a
+penny in his pocket, as he was when he possessed the means to be
+extravagant, when he
+
+    "Spread to the liberal air his silken sails,
+    And lavished guineas like a Prince of Wales."
+
+The secret of his prodigious popularity was his obliging disposition.
+His time and talents--and he had plenty of the former, and no lack of
+the latter--were always at the service of his friends; and though the
+idlest dog in the world when his own affairs were in question, in the
+cause of his friends he was the busiest man alive. Thus he fairly won
+his dinners, his rides, his drives, and his opera tickets--they were
+trifling commissions on his benevolent transactions.
+
+"Jack," one fellow would say, "my horse is too confoundedly high
+strung, and only half broke. He threw me yesterday."
+
+"I'll ride him for you, Bill," would be the ready reply; "give me your
+spurs, and I'll give him a lesson."
+
+And away he would go, without a thought of his neck, to mount a
+restive rascal that had half killed the rough rider of a cavalry
+regiment.
+
+"Jack," another would say, "I've got an awkward affair on hand with
+Lieutenant ----; he fancies I've insulted him, and has thrown out dark
+hints about coffee and pistols."
+
+"Make yourself perfectly easy, my boy; I'll bring him to reason or
+fight him myself."
+
+So Jack had his hands full of business. Well, one dreary, desolate
+afternoon in March, when the barbs of all the vanes in the city were
+looking pertinaciously eastward, and people were shivering over
+anthracite grates, Jack Withers "might have been seen," as James would
+say, seated in the little back parlor of the coffee room in School
+Street, sipping Mocha with his particular friend Bill Bliffins, who
+had an especial claim upon his kindness, from the fact that he had
+already extricated Bill from scrapes innumerable.
+
+Mocha is a great prompter of social and kindly feelings, and prompts,
+in _tete-a-tetes_, to that unreserved confidence on one part, and that
+obliging interest on the other, which unite two congenial and kindred
+spirits in adamantine bonds.
+
+"Jack," said Bill, smiting the marble table emphatically, "you are my
+best friend."
+
+"Pooh, pooh! you flatter me," said Jack, blushing like a peony; "I've
+never done any thing for you."
+
+"Yes, you have, and you know it," persisted Bliffins. "Didn't you
+fight Lieutenant Jenkins, of the Salamander, when I ought to have
+fought him myself? Haven't you endorsed my notes when nobody else
+would back my paper?"
+
+"I'll do it again, my boy," said Jack, with a gush of enthusiastic
+feeling.
+
+"Ahem! your name on short or long paper isn't exactly what it used to
+be," said Bill, rather unfeelingly, perhaps.
+
+"True, true," returned Jack, in a more subdued tone; "I haven't got
+many friends left in the synagogues."
+
+"But what you have done, Jack," continued Bliffins, with enthusiasm,
+"emboldens me to trespass yet further on your patience."
+
+"With all my heart," said Jack; and there was no reservation implied
+in the hearty tone in which the words were uttered.
+
+"Then listen to my story, as the postilion of Longjumeau sings. Hear
+me for my cause, and be silent that you may hear."
+
+"I'll be mute as the codfish in the House of Representatives."
+
+"Well, then," said Bill, in a solemn tone, "I'm dead broke."
+
+"Dead broke?"
+
+"Yes; I'm running on my last hundred."
+
+"Impossible!"
+
+"True, though, for all that. Yet my circumstances are not so
+desperate, either. There's a vacant clerkship in the secretary of
+state's office; and the governor has been sounded, and I think he
+might be disposed to give it to me."
+
+"Go to him at once, then, my dear boy. If he wants any reference, send
+him to me. I'll endorse your character, as I used to your paper when
+my name was worth something on 'change. Go to him at once."
+
+"It's easy to say it, Jack; but the fact is, that I have such a
+confounded hesitating address that I fear I should make an unfavorable
+impression, and ruin my cause; whereas, if a plausible, voluble fellow
+like yourself could get his ear and plead for me, my appointment would
+be certain. Now will you----"
+
+"Call on the governor? With all my heart--consider the thing settled."
+
+"That's not all; you must be my advocate in another quarter. I'm over
+head and ears in love with Juliet Trevor--Trapp & Trevor--W. I. Goods,
+wholesale. You know the firm?"
+
+"Like a book."
+
+"I want you to see the girl and the old people; I haven't confidence
+to propose in person. You can do it for me?"
+
+"With all my heart. I give you joy of the clerkship and the
+girl--they're yours."
+
+"I'm eternally obliged, Jack."
+
+"Not the least, my boy--always ready to serve my friends. By the way,
+have you got any money about your clothes? I invited you to take
+coffee, but I forgot my purse in my other trousers--no change, you
+know."
+
+"There, get this V changed," said Bliffins, handing him a bank note.
+
+Jack took the note and walked up to the counter.
+
+"Coffee and pie for two, my dear" said he to the attendant. "It's all
+right--you know me--pay next time--Withers and friend. Come, Bill,
+I've fixed it."
+
+"But the change!" said Bill.
+
+"Never mind the change--morrow do as well. By, by,--_au revoir_."
+
+"Remember the governor!"
+
+"All right, my boy."
+
+"And Juliet!"
+
+"Make yourself easy."
+
+So they parted. The next day, Jack sent in his card to the governor at
+the Adams House, and followed the pasteboard before the message could
+be returned. The governor received his visitor with his usual
+urbanity.
+
+"Good quarters, governor!" said Jack, looking round him as he dropped
+into a rocking chair, and tapped his boot with his walking stick.
+"Chief magistrate of the commonwealth--well lodged--people pay--all
+right."
+
+The governor was much amused at the coolness of his guest, and waited
+patiently to learn his business. He was not kept long in suspense.
+
+"Governor," said Jack, "I come to solicit your favor not on my behalf,
+but in the cause of friendship--sacred friendship--holy bond of two
+congenial hearts, &c.--but you know all that. My friend, sir, William
+Bliffins--unfortunate young man--reduced in circumstances--good
+family--good blood--grandfather in the revolution--soil of Bunker Hill
+irrigated with the blood of Bliffins--but you know all that--run
+through his fortune--on the town--not a penny--hard case."
+
+"Do you solicit charity, sir, for your friend?"
+
+"Not exactly--official favor--vacant clerkship--secretary's
+office--make him comfortable--but you know all that."
+
+"Really, sir, you run on at such a rate----"
+
+"Way I've got--few leading points all you want--time precious--money
+(old saw)--Bliffins--clerkship--don't you take?"
+
+"I think I recollect the name, now. But I must inquire into the
+character of the applicant. How did he lose his fortune?"
+
+"Unbounded benevolence--heart like an ox--bigger--endorsing notes for
+friends--founding hospitals for indigent Africans--temperance
+movement--philanthropy expensive--but you know all that."
+
+"The office in question requires a good penman. Can your friend write
+well?"
+
+"Splendid hand--copperplate--_currente calamo_--shine in your eyes."
+
+"Have you a specimen of his penmanship?"
+
+"Cords at home--some in pocket. Here you have it! no, that's my
+washerwoman's bill. Ah, here it is!" and Jack pulled out a crumpled
+note, and placed it before the governor.
+
+The governor scanned the document curiously, and with great difficulty
+deciphered the following words, which he read silently:--
+
+"Dear Jack,--Fashion has been beaten, and I lost on the mare. I shall
+back Tom Hyer to the extent of my pile. He is training finely. Bricks
+has a couple of Santa Anna's game cocks for me, on board the Raritan,
+at Lewis's wharf. Can you run down and get 'em from the steward? Yrs,
+&c."
+
+The governor smiled as he handed back the note, but made no remark.
+
+"Where can I communicate with you, sir?" he asked.
+
+"Dog and Thistle, Blackstone Street. I'll write my address."
+
+So Jack wrote his address card, (by the way, he wrote a splendid
+hand,) and took his leave of the governor.
+
+From the Adams House he posted to Louisburg Square, where the Trevors
+were living in great style. Slightly acquainted with Miss Trevor, he
+found no difficulty in being admitted to her presence. After rattling
+over a few commonplace topics, he came to the object of his mission.
+
+"Have you seen Bliffins lately?"
+
+"Not very," replied the fair one, languidly.
+
+"Dying, ma'am, dying."
+
+"Is it possible? What's the matter, sir?"
+
+"Love--desperation--patience on a monument couldn't sit there
+forever--heart ache--only one thing to save him."
+
+"Indeed! and what is that?"
+
+"He loves you, madam, passionately, devotedly, enormously--Petrarch,
+Abelard, lukewarm lovers in comparison. Throws himself at your
+feet--save him!--marry him quick! or you'll lose him!--say yes."
+
+"Sir, my father will communicate with you," said the lady, rising to
+terminate the interview.
+
+"Dog and Thistle, Blackstone Street," said Jack, and bowed himself
+away.
+
+The next day Jack and Bill were again seated together in a small room
+at the Dog and Thistle, waiting the result of the obliging operations
+of the former. In a few moments a waiter brought in a note,
+superscribed John Withers, Esq. Jack tore it open, and read as
+follows:--
+
+     "Sir,--In answer to your application yesterday, I am sorry
+     to return you an unfavorable reply; but the chirography of
+     the person you recommended, to say nothing of other
+     considerations, unfits him for the vacancy in question.
+     Having made inquiries with regard to yourself, and finding
+     that you are in circumstances which might render employment
+     acceptable, while your conduct proves that you have
+     sincerely repented of the follies of your early years, I
+     have concluded to request your acceptance of the office
+     yourself. If you accept the offer, please report yourself
+     to-morrow.
+
+"Yours, respectfully,
+---- ----,
+"Governor of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."
+
+"You're an impostor!" shouted Bliffins. "Is this your friendship?"
+
+"I can't help it," said Jack, ruefully. "I'm innocent--I did the best
+I could for you."
+
+"How did he know any thing about my penmanship?"
+
+"I showed him this note," said the unhappy Jack, producing the
+document.
+
+"That note? You've ruined me! Do you know what it was about?"
+
+"I'd forgotten."
+
+"Why, it was all about horseracing, pugilism, and cock fighting, you
+jackass!"
+
+"Letter for Mr. Bliffins!" said the waiter, entering with another
+epistle. Bliffins read it aloud.
+
+     "Mr. William Bliffins.
+
+     "Sir: In answer to application of your friend, yesterday,
+     for daughter's hand, have to reply for daughter, and say
+     that the honor is respectfully declined. Had you obtained
+     the office you applied for, might have treated with you.
+     Daughter requests me to say that she could not have done so
+     in any case.
+
+"Your ob't servant,
+J. TREVOR."
+
+     "P.S. Please hand the enclosed to Mr. Withers."
+
+The "enclosed" was an invitation to a grand ball given by the Trevors
+on the ensuing night.
+
+After overwhelming his friend with anathemas, Bliffins rushed wildly
+from the Dog and Thistle, and enlisted in the second dragoons.
+
+Jack Withers, who had never before looked out for number one, now
+became so "obliging" as to take care of that neglected personage. He
+became a praiseworthy clerk, and a steady man of business. He went to
+the ball and polked himself into the good graces of Miss Juliet
+Trevor. The old gentleman and lady smiled upon their loves, and in
+due time he was united to the object of his affections, securing
+thereby a handsome and amiable wife, and an independent fortune, which
+she insisted on settling upon her husband on the wedding day. There is
+no fear of Jack's relapsing into his old habits of extravagance; and
+while he is still as popular as ever, he never neglects his own
+affairs for those of other people.
+
+
+
+
+THE SILVER HAMMER.
+
+
+The sun was sinking in the west, and gilding with its slant beams a
+pastoral landscape, as a young soldier, weary and footsore, slowly
+toiled along a lonely road that ran parallel with the course of the
+bright and winding Seine. A dusty foraging cap rested on his dark
+locks, and his youthful form bent beneath the weight of a well-filled
+knapsack. Pierre Lacour had served with honor in that glorious little
+band of heroes, which, under the leadership of the youthful Bonaparte,
+had crossed the snow-clad Alps, and fallen like an avalanche upon the
+plains of Lombardy, sweeping before it the veteran troops of Austria,
+and astonishing all Europe by unparalleled audacity and unexampled
+success. Pierre had marched farther on that day than he had ever done
+while following the colors of his regiment--but he was on his way
+home, and he longed to see his mother, his fair young sister Maria,
+and a lovely maiden, named Estelle, dearer to his heart than all
+beside. They had news of his coming,--at least, Maria and his mother
+had,--and he had sent them in advance, by a sure hand, a large amount
+of money, his share of the spoils of battle honorably won--enough, in
+short, to give a dowry to his sister, and enable him to demand the
+reward of all his toils and dangers--the hand of his betrothed.
+
+His heart beat quick as he climbed the last vine-clad hill which
+separated him from his native valley. A few steps more would bring him
+to the summit, whence his eye would rest on the neat whitewashed
+cottage, with its surrounding palings, and trim garden; and there,
+perhaps, at the rustic gate, he should see the well-known figures of
+his mother and sister. Far as he had travelled, he sprang up the
+ascent with a buoyant step, and soon gained the eminence. The cottage
+lay full in view, but though it was the usual hour for preparing the
+evening meal, no blue smoke wreath curled upward from the chimney. A
+vague presentiment of evil weighed upon his heart. Hastening to dispel
+the dark and chilling fears that came thick upon him, he hurried down
+the slope, and soon passed through the garden and stood within the
+cottage. He called aloud--no voice responded to his cry. He rushed
+into the little room, which served at once for kitchen and parlor. It
+was empty--no fire burned upon the hearth. The humble furniture was in
+strange disarray. The casement, which looked out upon the garden was
+shattered. The walls and floor were charred and blackened with smoke,
+as if the house had taken fire and been saved with difficulty. Pierre
+sprang up stairs. In neither of the chambers could he find the loved
+ones whom he sought--only the same scene of confusion and desolation.
+Turning in dismay from the spectacle, he rushed out of the cottage to
+make his way to the nearest neighbors, and inquire into this appalling
+mystery. As he hurried along--his brain whirling, his footsteps
+uncertain and unsteady--he stumbled against an aged man of venerable
+appearance, who was coming in the opposite direction. The young
+soldier halted, and touching his cap, begged pardon for his
+involuntary rudeness.
+
+"My poor Pierre," said the old man, "I know too well the cause of your
+forgetfulness."
+
+The soldier looked up and recognized the familiar and benevolent
+features of the good priest of the village, his old tutor and pastor.
+
+"Father," he said, pointing to the cottage, "you have been there--you
+know all--tell me--where are they?"
+
+The old man's eyes filled with tears, as he shook his head, and laid
+his hand kindly on the young man's shoulder.
+
+"Pierre," said he, "you have read 'whom the Lord loveth he
+chasteneth?'"
+
+The soldier bowed his head.
+
+"Pierre," exclaimed the good priest, "let us sit down on this bank.
+You are a good and brave boy. You can face danger, and I have sought
+to furnish you weapons to wage war against sorrow and trial."
+
+"You have been a father to me, sir," replied the young soldier,
+complying with the invitation of his pastor, and taking a seat beside
+him. "I will endeavor to listen calmly to all you have to communicate.
+Where are my mother and sister?"
+
+"Pierre," said the old man, "arm yourself with all your fortitude. You
+will never see your mother more till you meet her in that happier
+world, where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at
+rest."
+
+Pierre groaned deeply, and covering his face with his hands, rocked
+his body to and fro as he burst into an agony of tears. The priest
+sought not to interrupt him, but turned away his own weeping
+countenance, for the anguish of the youth was too painful to
+contemplate.
+
+At last the poor soldier looked up and spoke again: "What of my poor
+sister?"
+
+"I know nothing," replied the priest; "she is gone whither, none can
+tell. A great crime has been committed. By whom, none knows, save God
+and the perpetrator thereof. You sent home a large sum of money to
+your mother. She was so overjoyed at your good fortune, that she made
+no secret of its reception, though I cautioned her against speaking of
+it. A fortnight ago, the village was alarmed by the cry of fire. Your
+cottage was seen to be in flames. The neighbors hastened thither and
+extinguished the blaze. In the smoke and confusion it was not
+perceived at first that murder, as well as incendiarism, had done its
+foul work." The priest paused, overcome with agitation.
+
+"On! on!" shouted Pierre, "I can bear it all now!"
+
+"Your poor mother was the victim," continued the priest; "she lay on
+the hearthstone dead and bleeding. Her bureau had been broken open and
+rifled of its contents."
+
+"My sister! my sister!" cried the soldier.
+
+"She was gone. The whole surrounding country was searched, but nothing
+was discovered."
+
+"Maria! Maria! could gold have tempted _you_? No! no!--dog that I am,
+to suspect you! Misery has driven me mad!" cried the soldier, dashing
+his hand against his forehead.
+
+"The whole dreadful crime," said the old priest, "is shrouded in a
+mystery as appalling as death itself. But God does not permit such
+deeds to slumber undetected or unavenged. Sooner or later they are
+brought to light."
+
+"May I prove the instrument of detection!" said the soldier. "Some of
+the coins that I sent my poor murdered mother were marked--I could
+recognize them again. Father, you shall take me to my mother's grave.
+One prayer there--one word with Estelle--and then I will go to Paris;
+it is the resort of every criminal, and thence it sends forth its
+crime-blackened ruffians to desecrate this fair earth with horror.
+Come, father, come--my mother's grave--lead me there at once!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Years passed away. Save by two or three persons, the crime which had
+desecrated the hearthstone of a humble village home was forgotten in
+those great historical events, of which Europe and France were then
+the theatres. In those days of bloodshed and battle, of victory and
+triumph, Pierre Lacour, who had commenced his military career as a
+brave young soldier, might have risen to the highest honors, had he
+followed the victorious eagles of his emperor. Why might not he rise
+as well as Murat, Ney, Lannes, or a hundred others? The epaulets of a
+colonel, nay, the baton of a marshal of France, were prizes within the
+reach of the lowliest, provided he had the head to plan and the heart
+to execute daring and chivalric deeds. But his heart no longer bounded
+like a war horse to the charge of the trumpet and the roll of the
+drum. He lived for one purpose--to discover the assassin of his mother
+and the sister, of whom nothing had been heard since the dreadful
+night of murder and conflagration. To facilitate his purposes, he had
+procured himself to be enrolled in the unrivalled police force of
+Fouche. That wily minister had no more able assistant under his
+command, and none in that fraternity (of which many were miscreants,
+who had purchased impunity for crime by selling the lives and
+liberties of former accomplices and comrades) who could compare with
+him for purity of life and elevation of motive. To punish evil for the
+sake of society, was the aim of the young police officer. None more
+untiring or intelligent than he in ferreting out the perpetrators of
+deeds of violence. In the criminals whose arrest he effected, and
+whose conviction he secured, he expected, constantly, to find some
+cognizant of the offence which had thrown so black a shadow over his
+life. He read with eager avidity the dying confessions of the
+condemned. He caught eagerly every syllable that fell from the lips of
+men, who, standing on the brink of eternity, seemed to be impressed
+with the necessity of revealing truth. But for years his expectations
+were baffled.
+
+At last, all Paris was thrown into commotion by the murder of a
+Colonel Belleville, an officer who had served with distinction in the
+grand army, and who was found dead, one morning, in a room at house
+number 96 Rue La Harpe. The only mark of violence discovered by the
+surgeons was a dark, purple spot, about the size of a five-franc
+piece, on the left temple. The police were apprised that, on the
+morning of the day before, a slight young man, with fair hair and
+polished address, giving his name as Adolph Belmont, had hired the
+room at number 96 Rue La Harpe, and paid a week's rent in advance. It
+further appeared that, in the evening, just after the close of the
+performances at the opera, this young man had come home in company
+with an officer of the army. After the lapse of about an hour, the
+young man, Belmont, left the house, telling the porter he should
+return in a few minutes. But he never reappeared. About ten o'clock in
+the morning, the porter went up to his room, and found the door
+locked. He knocked and called, without receiving any answer. Looking
+through the keyhole, he saw the feet and legs of a man, in military
+boots and pantaloons, lying on the floor. Much alarmed and disturbed,
+he sought out a commissary of police, and that functionary, breaking
+open the door, discovered the body of Colonel Belleville. This tragedy
+excited an unusual sensation. Even the emperor heard of it, and, from
+his private purse provided a large sum of money to be paid as a reward
+to the discoverer of the perpetrator of this fearful crime.
+
+Not many days after this occurrence, and while it yet remained
+shrouded in mystery, another murder roused the excitable population of
+Paris to a frenzy of anxiety and horror. An army commissary, named
+Captain Eugene Descartes, was found dead in his lodgings, in the Rue
+Richelieu, with the same fatal purple mark on the left temple.
+
+Yet a third murder was perpetrated in the Boulevard des Italiens. A
+banker, named Monval, was, in this instance, the victim. His left
+temple bore the fatal discoloration of the size of a five-franc piece;
+but, although he had a large sum of money on his person, and wore a
+costly watch and many valuable trinkets, and though articles of high
+price abounded in his sumptuously-furnished apartment, not an article,
+as his steward testified, was missing.
+
+On the morning of the announcement of this last crime in the Moniteur,
+the minister of police received a summons from the emperor to attend
+him. He found him in his private cabinet, pacing to and fro in high
+excitement. His face was more colorless than ever, except that an
+angry hectic spot burned upon each cheek. As the minister entered, the
+emperor turned upon him, and exclaimed,--
+
+"Fouche, what is the meaning of all this? Is this Paris, and are we
+living in the nineteenth century? It appears that there is no security
+for life in our capital. Mr. Fouche, if such crimes can be committed
+with impunity, there is an end of all things; and if you cannot ferret
+out the perpetrators of such atrocities as these, it is time for you
+to vacate your position. I must appoint a new minister of police."
+
+"Sire," replied the minister, "how much time will you give me to
+discover the assassin?"
+
+"One week," replied the emperor.
+
+"I thank your majesty," replied the minister, bowing. "In one week,
+you shall have the assassin's head, or my resignation."
+
+"Good," said the emperor; "and to stimulate the activity of your
+people, I hereby authorize you to offer a reward of twenty thousand
+francs, for the detection of the assassin of the Rue La Harpe, the Rue
+Richelieu, and the Boulevard, if it prove, as I imagine, that one
+individual perpetrated these crimes, or five thousand francs each, if
+there were three criminals. Good day, Mr. Fouche; let me have a report
+of your doings without delay."
+
+The secret of Mr. Fouche's confident promise to detect the assassin
+was the reliance he placed in the activity, daring, and intelligence
+of Pierre Lacour. He sent for him, and related his conversation with
+the emperor, enlarging on the munificent reward promised by Napoleon.
+
+"I am poor," said Lacour, "but higher motives than hopes of reward
+stimulate me to perform this duty. Yet, should I be successful, a sum
+of money like this would enable me to wed one, who, though I
+voluntarily offered to release her from her engagement has loved me as
+well in my misfortunes as in happier times. In one week, therefore,
+Mr. Fouche, I will enable you to redeem your pledge to the emperor."
+
+Four days passed away, and yet the minister of police heard nothing
+from Lacour. But the young man had not been inactive; and once or
+twice he had obtained, what he considered, traces of the person
+calling himself Belmont, the supposed assassin of the Rue la Harpe,
+and, by presumption, of the other murders; but these traces led to no
+result.
+
+Whether in search of diversion, or that a vague hope whispered to him
+that he might obtain some intelligence by so doing, Lacour, on the
+fifth night after his interview with the minister, went to a masked
+ball at the grand opera house, in the costume of an officer of the
+Fusilier Guard, which chance led him to select. Weary of the noise and
+confusion, sad and discouraged, he had withdrawn from the crowded
+circle of dancers, when some one touched him on the shoulder.
+
+"Captain Lassalle," said a sweet musical voice, "you are known, though
+the uniform you wear is not that of your own corps."
+
+Lacour turned with the intention of correcting the mistake, when a
+secret impulse restrained the disavowal. The person who addressed him
+was a slight young man, fashionably dressed, with no other disguise
+than a half-mask of black velvet, which did not conceal his light
+hair.
+
+"I perceive you know me," said Lacour, favoring the mistake; "though
+you have the advantage of me. I cannot possibly conjecture whom I am
+addressing."
+
+The masked laughed lightly.
+
+"Perhaps it would be of no use for me to unmask," was the reply; "but
+if I tell you I have something of importance to communicate to
+you--something in reference to your application to the emperor for
+preferment, you may be disposed to listen to me."
+
+"With all my heart."
+
+"I see you are tired of this noisy scene," said the mask, "and so in
+faith am I. Besides, this is no place to talk of business. What say
+you to a moonlight walk to my lodgings, in the Rue Montmartre? There
+we can discuss our affairs over a glass of champagne."
+
+"I will willingly accompany you," said Lacour, "if you will give me a
+few minutes to speak to a friend, with whom I had a previous
+appointment."
+
+"Make haste, then," said the mask; "you will find me here for fifteen
+minutes."
+
+Lacour hastened to the nearest post, and made himself known to the
+commandant.
+
+"Quick!" said he, "I want a sergeant and a dozen _gens d'armes_. In
+fifteen minutes I shall leave the opera house, in company with a young
+man, for the Rue Montmartre. Let the squad follow us without appearing
+to do so. Keep in the shadow of the houses. We shall enter a house. As
+soon as the door has closed, demand instant admittance of the porter.
+Let the sergeant follow hard upon my heels, and wait outside the door
+of whatever room I enter. At a call from me, let him be ready to burst
+in and secure the person with whom I am in company."
+
+As soon as he had given these directions, the police officer hastened
+back to the opera house, where the mask was still awaiting him. Arm in
+arm they left the hall, and chatting familiarly, entered the Rue
+Montmartre, and soon arrived at an old house of seven stories, to
+which they were admitted by the porter. Lacour's heart beat as he
+accompanied his guide, in the dark, up three pairs of stairs--but
+before he had reached the head of the third flight, he heard the
+street door open and shut below, and knew that the sergeant had obeyed
+his directions, and that help was at hand in case his suspicions
+proved true.
+
+The mask opened the door of a room, and ushered in his guest. It was a
+small, boudoir-like apartment, and exquisitely furnished. Silken
+hangings fell over gold arrows, from the ceiling to the floor.
+Tapestry carpets, soft as velvet, covered the floor. Rich ottomans,
+superb mirrors, marble tables, and pictures, were crowded together. A
+soft light was diffused through the apartment by an alabaster
+shade-lamp. An intoxicating perfume loaded the atmosphere, and even
+oppressed the senses. Lacour, as he sank upon the sofa, felt overcome
+by a strange languor. The mask sat close beside him.
+
+"Captain," said the mask, in a musical, insinuating voice, "have you
+ever loved?"
+
+"Before I answer this question," replied Lacour, "I must first know
+what prompts you thus to catechize me."
+
+"Because," replied the unknown, "I have deceived you--because I am a
+woman--one who has long known and loved you, till an uncontrollable
+desire to make this confession has compelled her to a step that you
+will blame, and, perhaps, despise her for."
+
+Lacour was puzzled, and remained silent for a few moments.
+
+"I see," said the mask, with a sigh, "you despise me for my very
+boldness. Yet, I am a lady of rank and reputation, and my affection
+for you is as pure as that of maiden can be."
+
+"Fair lady," said Lacour, "if such you be indeed, you must permit me
+to request you to remove that envious mask."
+
+"It may not be," replied the stranger, with a laugh. "Ask that, or
+presume to remove this shield, and I vanish like a fairy or a phantom.
+But if you promise to be very obedient, I may give you hopes of
+disclosing my face--perhaps my name--at our next interview. But in
+reward for your submission to my behest, I will allow you, like a
+benignant sovereign, to do homage to my ungloved hand."
+
+She withdrew her kid glove, and presented, playfully, a hand so white,
+so delicately veined, and small, that Lacour could no longer doubt
+that he was addressing a lady. He raised the hand respectfully to his
+lips. But he felt now that his suspicions were groundless, and that he
+did wrong in deceiving a person, who, however romantic and
+unjustifiable her behavior might seem, was still one entitled to
+respect and honor. But as he was framing an apology for taking
+advantage of her mistaking him, the stranger suddenly sprang upon him
+like a tigress. The delicate hand he had just kissed now compressed
+his throat like an iron vice; the other suddenly brandished in the air
+a small _silver hammer_, while a fierce voice hissed in his ear,
+"Lassalle! your hour has come! Belleville, Descartes, and Monval, have
+gone before you to answer for their crimes. You are the fourth, and
+last. Die, villain!"
+
+But Lacour struggled free, and shouted for help. The door fell with a
+crash; the soldiers poured in, and the female assassin was secured and
+disarmed. Eager to unravel the mystery, the police officer tore the
+mask from the face of the unknown, and recognized in the wild and
+inflamed features of the assassin of the Rue La Harpe, the Rue
+Richelieu, and the Boulevard des Italiens, his sister, Maria Lacour!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+But Maria Lacour died not on the scaffold. She was saved from that
+doom by unquestionable proofs of insanity. Her sad story was learned
+afterwards from various sources, and corroborated, in the most
+important particulars, by Captain Lassalle, who was arrested for a
+criminal offence shortly after the above incident, and made a full
+confession of his guilt. It appeared, then, that the house of the
+widow Lacour, a short time before the opening of our story, had been
+broken into by four villains, named Belleville, Descartes, Monval, and
+Lassalle. They were all men of bad habits, and urgently necessitous,
+but yet of decent education and family. Hearing a noise in the
+kitchen, Maria descended only in time to witness the death pangs of
+the mother. The three first-named ruffians, demons who had murdered to
+rob, wished to destroy this witness of their guilt, but the fourth
+interceded, and her life was spared. But the horror of the deed
+overthrew her reason. She fled from the house that night a maniac;
+whither she wandered, how she was cared for, for a long time was and
+must ever remain a mystery. She finally, it seems, became in a degree
+tranquillized, found her way to Paris, and there she supported herself
+by her extraordinary skill as an embroideress.
+
+But it was conjectured that her memory of early events had gone. The
+casual sight of one of the assassins, all of whom had prospered and
+risen in the world, revived the recollection of that one fearful night
+of horror, and with it came to her disordered brain the thirst of
+vengeance. It did not appear that for a moment she had dreamed of
+appealing to the interposition of the law. To execute a summary
+vengeance, personally, was her terrible resolve. With a cunning that
+often supplies the loss of reason with the insane, she contrived
+snares, into which three of the assassins fell, and, with the singular
+implement her fancy had suggested, was the means of their death.
+Chance led to the failure of her plan for punishing the last of the
+assassins, Lassalle, and to her discovery by her brother.
+
+Immediately after her arrest and examination, on proof of the
+condition of her mind, she was conveyed to a private asylum, and
+carefully attended to. Fortunately, her madness here assumed a happier
+phase. She took great pleasure in seeing her brother, and appeared to
+have forgotten that her mother was no more, asking him every day how
+soon their mother would come and take her back to the country. But the
+trials she had undergone had undermined her health. She sank very
+rapidly, and soon breathed her last.
+
+Lacour only remained long enough in the service of the police to
+effect the arrest, and witness the condemnation of Lassalle, the last
+of the four assassins, who escaped the silver hammer of the maniac
+girl, to die by the hand of the executioner.
+
+The sorrows he had experienced would have blighted the heart and
+sapped the life of Pierre Lacour, but for the love of one who had
+proved true to him through all his trials. Some months after the death
+of his sister, he married his faithful Estelle, and retired to a small
+and well-stocked farm, for which he was indebted to the generosity of
+the emperor; and he lived long enough, if not to forget his sorrows,
+at least to find consolation in the bosom of his family.
+
+
+
+
+THE CHRIST CHURCH CHIMES.
+
+
+It was a cold winter evening. The chill blast came sweeping from the
+chain of hills that guard our city on the north, laden with the cold
+breath of a thousand leagues of ice and snow. There was a sharp, polar
+glitter in the myriad stars that wheeled on their appointed course
+through the dark blue heaven, in whose expanse no single cloud was
+visible. Howling through the icy streets came the strong, wild north
+wind, tearing in its fierce frenzy the sailcloth awnings into tatters,
+swinging the public-house signs, and shaking the window shutters, like
+a bold burglar bent on the perpetration of crime. Then onward, onward
+it sped over the dark steel-colored bay, and out to the wild, wide,
+open sea, to do battle with the sails of the stanch barks that were
+struggling towards a haven.
+
+But within, the good people of Boston were stoutly waging battle
+against the common enemy on this bitter Christmas eve. In some of the
+old-fashioned houses at the North End, inhabited by old-fashioned
+people, the ruddy light that streamed through the parlor windows on
+the street announced that huge fires of oak and hickory were blazing
+on the ample hearths. But in far the greater number of dwellings, the
+less genial, but more powerful anthracite was contending with the
+wintry elements.
+
+In an upper room of an old, crazy, wooden house, a poor woman, thinly
+clad, sat sewing beside a rusty, sheet-iron stove, poorly supplied
+with chips. She had been once eminently handsome, and but for the
+wanness and hollowness of her face, would have appeared so still.
+
+Two little boys, of eight and nine years of age, were warming
+themselves, or seeking to warm themselves, at the stove, before
+retiring to their little bed in a small room adjoining.
+
+"Isn't this nice, mother?" said the younger, a bright, black-eyed boy.
+"Didn't I get a nice lot of chips to-day?"
+
+"Yes, dearest, you are always a good and industrious boy," said the
+mother, snatching a moment from her work to imprint a kiss upon his
+forehead.
+
+"Poor pa' will have a nice fire to warm him when he comes home," said
+the elder boy.
+
+At this allusion to the child's father, the mother burst into tears.
+The countenances of both the children fell. They knew too well the
+cause of their mother's bitter sorrow--the same cause had blighted
+their own young hearts and clouded their innocent lives--their father
+was a drunkard! Hence it was that, bright and intelligent as they
+were, they could not go to school--they were too ragged for that--and
+their time was required on the wharves to pick up fuel and such scraps
+of provision as are scattered from the sheaves of the prosperous and
+prodigal. For this reason, too, the mother had carefully forborne to
+remind the children that this was Christmas eve. But they knew it too
+well, and they contrasted its gloominess and sorrow with the
+well-remembered anniversaries when this was a season of delight--the
+eve of promised pleasures, of feasts, of dances, and of presents. With
+this thought in their hearts they silently kissed their mother, and
+retired to their little bed, committing themselves to "Our Father who
+art in heaven," while the poor mother toiled on, listening with dread
+for the returning footsteps of her husband.
+
+The husband and father, whose return was thus dreaded, had worked late
+at night in the shop of the carpenter who had given him temporary
+employment, and who was to pay him this evening. Five or six dollars
+were coming to him, more than he had earned honestly for a long while,
+and his hand shook with eagerness as his employer counted out his
+wages. As he put on his hat to leave the shop, he observed his
+fellow-workmen, who were all sober and steady men, eying him with sad,
+inquiring looks; he almost ran out of the shop.
+
+"I know what they mean," he said to himself. "But what is it to them
+how I spend my money--the prying busy-bodies! I'm not a slave--I have
+a right to do what I please with my own. Whew! how cutting the wind
+is! A glass or two of hot whiskey toddy will be just the thing!"
+
+Without one thought of his toiling wife and neglected children, the
+poor, infatuated man hastened towards a grocery with the intention of
+slaking his morbid thirst. At the moment his foot was on the
+threshold, out from the belfry of Christ Church, ringing clear in the
+frosty air, streamed a tide of sweet and solemn music. Simple, yet
+touching, was the melody of those sacred bells, chiming forth the
+advent of the blessed Christmas time. And as the song of the bells
+fell upon his ear, it awakened in the drunkard a thousand memories of
+happier, because better days. The comfortable dwelling, the quiet,
+neat parlor, with its Christmas dressings, the sweet face of his wife,
+the merry laugh of his bright-eyed children--all flashed back vividly
+upon his mind. He recked not of the bitter blast--he forgot his late
+purpose--he could wish those sweet bells to play on forever. But they
+ceased.
+
+"It was a voice from heaven!" said the man, as the tears rolled down
+his cheeks. "Surely God has blessed those Christ Church chimes. I'll
+never more drink one drop. This money shall go to my family, every
+cent of it. It is not too late yet to buy provision for to-morrow, and
+some comfortable things for the children."
+
+It was late that night when the watching wife heard the step of her
+husband on the staircase. It was as slow and heavy as usual; but how
+relieved, how astonished, how grateful she felt, when the door opened,
+and he came in, happy, sober, bearing a huge basket filled with
+provisions, and threw down a parcel containing stockings, comforters,
+and mittens for the children, not forgetting some simple Christmas
+wreaths, and some of those condiments which children love.
+
+The next day was a happy one indeed for the mother and the little
+boys--a merry Christmas that reminded them of old times, and gave them
+assurance of a happy future. May we not hope that the effect we have
+attributed to the Christ Church chimes is not a solitary instance of
+the power of music?
+
+
+
+
+THE POLISH SLAVE.
+
+
+Gayly opened the bright summer morning on the gray feudal turrets of
+Castle Tekeli, the residence of the old Count Alexis Tekeli, that
+crowned a rocky eminence, and was embosomed in the deep secular
+forests of Lithuania. The court yard was a scene of joyous noise and
+gay confusion; for the whole household was mustering for the chase.
+Half a dozen horses, gaily caparisoned, were neighing, snorting, and
+pawing the ground with hot impatience; a pack of stanch hounds, with
+difficulty restrained by the huntsmen, mingled their voices with the
+neighing of the steeds, while the slaves and relatives of the family
+were all busy in preparation for the day's sport.
+
+Count Alexis was the first in the saddle; aged, but hale and vigorous,
+he was alert and active as a young man of five-and-twenty.
+
+"Where are my daughters?" he exclaimed, impatiently, as he drew on his
+buff gantlets. "The sun is mounting apace, and we should not lose the
+best portion of the day."
+
+As if in reply to his question, a tall, dark-haired girl, of elegant
+figure and stately bearing, appeared by his side, and with the
+assistance of a groom, mounted her prancing gray palfrey.
+
+"This is well, Anna," said the count. "But where is Eudocia? She must
+not keep us waiting."
+
+"Eudocia declines to be of our party, father," replied the girl.
+
+"Pshaw!" said the old man; "she will never have your color in her
+cheeks, if she persist in moping in her chamber, reading old legends
+and missals, and the rhymes of worthless minnesingers. But let her go;
+I have one daughter who can live with the hunt, and see the boar at
+bay without flinching. Sound, bugle, and forward!"
+
+Amid the ringing of silver curb chains, the baying of hounds, and the
+enlivening notes of the bugle, the cavalcade and the train of footmen
+swept out of the court yard, and descending the winding path, plunged
+into the heart of the primeval forest. The dogs and the beaters darted
+into the thick copsewood, and soon the shouts of the huntsmen and the
+fierce bay of the dogs announced that a wild boar had been found and
+started. On dashed the merry company, Count Alexis leading on the
+spur. The lady Anna soon found herself alone, but she pressed her
+palfrey in the direction of the sounds of the chase as they receded in
+the distance. Suddenly she found herself in a small clearing, and drew
+her rein to rest her panting steed. She had not remained long in her
+position, when she heard, opposite to her, a crashing among the
+branches, and the next moment a huge wild boar, maddened with pursuit,
+and foaming with rage, broke into the opening and sprang directly
+towards her. Her horse, terrified at the apparition, reared so
+suddenly that he fell backwards, throwing his rider heavily, and
+narrowly missing crushing her. Springing to his feet, he dashed wildly
+away with flying mane and rein, while the lady lay at the mercy of the
+infuriated animal, faint and incapable of exertion.
+
+At that critical moment, a young man, in the livery of the count,
+dashed before the prostrate form of the lady, and dropping on one
+knee, levelled his short spear, and sternly received the charge of the
+boar. Though the weapon was well directed, it shivered in the grasp of
+the young huntsman; and though he drew his short sword with the
+rapidity of thought, the boar was upon him. The struggle was short and
+fierce, and the young huntsman succeeded in slaying the monster, but
+not until he had received a severe wound in the arm from the tusks of
+the boar. Heedless of his sufferings, however, he ran to a neighboring
+rivulet, and filling his cap with water, returned and sprinkled the
+face of the fainting girl. In a few moments she revived.
+
+Her first words, uttered with a trembling voice, were,--
+
+"Where--where is the wild boar?"
+
+"There, lady," said the huntsman, pointing to the grizzly monster.
+"His career is ended."
+
+"And it is you who have saved my life," exclaimed Anna, with a
+grateful smile.
+
+"I did my duty, lady," answered the huntsman.
+
+"But who are you, sir? Let me, at least, know your name that I may
+remember you in my prayers."
+
+"My name is Michael Erlitz; though your eyes, lady, may never have
+dwelt on one so lowly as myself, I am ever in your father's train when
+he goes to the chase. I am Count Tekeli's _slave_," he added, casting
+his eyes on the ground.
+
+"A slave? and so brave--so handsome!" thought the lady Anna; but she
+gave no utterance to the thought.
+
+At this moment the count rode up, followed by two or three of his
+retainers, and throwing himself from his horse, clasped his daughter
+in his arms.
+
+"My child, my child!" he exclaimed; "thank God, you are alive! I saw
+your horse dash past me riderless, and flew to your assistance. But
+there is blood upon your dress."
+
+"It is my blood!" said the slave, calmly.
+
+"Yours, Michael?" cried the count, looking round him. "Now I see it
+all--the dead boar, the broken spear, your bleeding arm. You saved my
+daughter's life at the risk of your own!"
+
+"The life of a slave belongs to his master and his master's family,"
+answered Michael, calmly. "Of what value is the existence of a serf?
+He belongs not to himself. He is of no more account than a horse or a
+hound."
+
+"Say not so," said Count Alexis, warmly. "Michael, you are a slave no
+longer. I will directly make out your manumission papers. In the mean
+time you shall do no menial service; you shall sit at my board, if you
+will; and be my friend, if you will accept my friendship."
+
+The eagle eye of the young huntsman kindled with rapture. He essayed
+to speak, but the words died upon his tongue. Falling on his knees, he
+seized the count's hand, and pressed it to his lips and heart. Tekeli
+raised him from his humble posture.
+
+"Michael," said he, "henceforth kneel only to your Maker. And now to
+the castle; your hurt needs care."
+
+"Willingly," said the young man, "would I shed the best blood in my
+body to obtain my freedom."
+
+"Ho, there!" said the count to his squire; "dismount, and let Michael
+have your horse; and bring after us Michael's dearly-earned hunting
+trophy. He has eclipsed us all to-day."
+
+Michael was soon in the saddle, riding next to the lady Anna, who,
+from time to time, turned her countenance, beaming with gratitude,
+upon him, and addressed him words of encouragement and kindness; for
+her proud and imperious nature was entirely subdued and changed, for
+the time, by the service he had rendered her.
+
+When the cavalcade reached the castle, they found the lady Eudocia,
+the count's eldest daughter, waiting to receive them. She heard the
+recital of the morning's adventure with deep interest; but a keen
+observer would have noticed that she seemed less moved by the
+recollection of her sister's danger, than by the present condition of
+the wounded huntsman. It was to her care that he was committed, as she
+was skilled in the healing art, having inherited the knowledge from
+her mother. She compelled Michael to give up all active employment,
+and, in the course of a few weeks, succeeded in effecting a complete
+restoration of the wounded arm.
+
+Count Tekeli treated the young man with the kindness of a father,
+losing all his aristocratic prejudices in a generous sense of
+gratitude. Splendidly attired, promised an honorable career in arms,
+if he chose to adopt the military profession, his whole future changed
+by a fortunate accident, Michael was happy in the intimacy of the two
+sisters. He now dared to aspire to the hand of her whom he had saved,
+and whom he loved with all the intensity of a passionate nature. Thus
+weeks and months rolled on like minutes, and he only awaited the
+delivery of his manumission papers to join the banner of his
+sovereign.
+
+One day--an eventful day, indeed, for him--he received from Eudocia,
+the elder sister, a message, inviting him to meet her in a summer
+house that stood in a small garden connected with the castle. Punctual
+to the hour named, he presented himself before her.
+
+"Michael," said she, extending her hand to him, "I sent for you to
+tell you a secret."
+
+Her voice was so tremulous and broken, that the young man gazed
+earnestly into her face, and saw that she had been weeping, and now
+with difficulty suppressed her tears.
+
+"Nay," said she, smiling feebly; "it will not be a secret long, for I
+must tell it to my father as soon as he returns from court with the
+royal endorsement to your manumission. I am going to leave you all."
+
+"To leave us, lady?"
+
+"Yes; I am going to take the veil."
+
+"You, so beautiful, so young! It cannot be."
+
+"Alas! youth, beauty, are insufficient to secure happiness. The world
+may be a lonely place, even to the young and beautiful; the cloister
+is a still and sacred haven on the road to a better world."
+
+"And what has induced you to take this step? I have not noticed
+hitherto any trace of sorrow or weariness in your countenance."
+
+"You were studying a brighter page--the fair face of my sister. Start
+not, Michael; I have divined your secret. She loves you, Michael; she
+loves you with her whole soul. You will wed her and be happy; while
+I----" She turned away her face to conceal her tears.
+
+The young man heard only the blissful prediction that concerned
+himself; he noted not the pangs of her who uttered it.
+
+"Dearest lady!" he exclaimed, "you have rendered me the happiest of
+men;" and dropping on his knees, he seized her hand and covered it
+with kisses.
+
+"Hark!" said Eudocia, in alarm; "footsteps! We are surprised; I must
+not be seen here!" and with these words she fled.
+
+Michael sprang to his feet. Before him stood the younger daughter of
+Count Alexis, her eyes flashing fire, her whole frame quivering with
+passion. He advanced and took her hand, but she flung it from him
+fiercely.
+
+"Slave!" she exclaimed, "dare you pollute with your vile touch the
+hand of a high-born dame--the daughter of your master?"
+
+"Anna, what means this passion?" cried Michael, in astonishment.
+
+"Silence, slave!" cried the imperious woman. "What ho, there!" she
+added, stamping her foot; "who waits?"
+
+Half a dozen menials sprang to her call.
+
+"Take me this slave to the court yard!" she cried vehemently; "he has
+been guilty of misbehavior. Let him taste the knout; and woe be to you
+if you spare him. Away with him! Rid me of his hateful presence!"
+
+While Michael was subjected to this hateful punishment, the vindictive
+girl, still burning with passion, sought her sister. What passed
+between them may be conjectured from what follows.
+
+Michael, released from the hands of the menials, stood, with swelling
+heart and burning brow, in one of the lofty apartments of the castle.
+He had felt no pain from the lash, but the ignominy of the punishment
+burned in his very soul, consuming the image that had been in his
+inner heart for years. The scales had fallen from his eyes, and he now
+beheld the younger daughter of the count in all the deformity of her
+moral nature--proud, imperious, passionate, and cruel.
+
+A door opened--a female, with dishevelled hair, and a countenance of
+agony, rushed forward and threw herself at his feet, embracing his
+knees convulsively. It was Anna!
+
+"O Michael!" she cried, "forgive me, forgive me! I shall never forgive
+myself for the pain I inflicted upon you."
+
+"I have suffered no pain," replied Michael, coldly. "Or if I did, it
+is the duty of a slave to suffer pain. You reminded me this morning
+that I was still a slave."
+
+"No, no! It is _I_ that am _your_ slave!" cried the lady. "Your
+slave--body and soul. Behold! I kiss your feet in token of submission,
+my lord and master! Michael, I love you--I adore you! I would follow
+you barefoot to the end of the world. Let me kiss your burning wounds;
+and O, forgive--forgive me!"
+
+Michael raised her to her feet, and gazed steadily in her countenance.
+
+"Lady," said he, "I loved you years ago, when, as a boy, I was only
+permitted to gaze on you, as we gaze upon the stars, that we may
+worship, but never possess. It was this high adoration that refined
+and ennobled my nature; that, in the mire of thraldom, taught me to
+aspire--taught me that, though a slave, I was yet a man. Through your
+silent influence, I was enabled to refine my manners, to cultivate my
+mind, and to fit myself for the freedom which bounteous Heaven had in
+store for me."
+
+"Yes, yes!" replied Anna. "You have made yourself all that can render
+a woman happy. There is not a noble in the land who can boast of
+accomplishments like yours; and you are beautiful as a virgin's dream
+of angels."
+
+"These are flattering _words_, lady."
+
+"They come from the heart, Michael."
+
+"You have told me what I am, lady. Now hear what I require in the
+woman I would wed. She must be beautiful, for beauty should ever mate
+with beauty; high born, for the lowly of birth are aspiring, and never
+wed their equals; yet above all, gentle, womanly, kind, forgiving,
+affectionate. No unsexed Semiramis or Zenobia for me."
+
+"I will make myself all that you desire, Michael."
+
+"We cannot change our natures," replied Michael, coldly.
+
+"But you will forgive me?"
+
+"I am not now in a condition to answer you. Smarting with indignation
+I can ill suppress, I cannot command the calmness requisite to reply
+in fit terms to the generous confidence of a high-born lady. Retire to
+your apartment, lady, for your father is expected momently, and I must
+see him first alone."
+
+Anna kissed the hand of the slave, and retired slowly. A few moments
+afterwards the gallop of a horse was heard entering the court yard,
+and this sound was followed by the appearance of Count Alexis, who
+threw himself into the arms of Michael, and pressed him to his heart.
+
+"Joy, joy, Michael!" he exclaimed. "You are now free--as free as air!
+Here are the documents; my slave no longer--my friend always. And as
+soon as you choose to join the service, you can lead a troop of the
+royal cavaliers."
+
+Michael poured out his thanks to his generous master.
+
+"And now," said the count, "to touch upon a matter nearer still to my
+heart. Since the adventure in the forest, I have loved you as a son.
+To make you such in reality would be to crown my old age with
+happiness. My daughters are acknowledged to be beautiful, fitting
+mates for the proudest of the land. I offer you the hand of her you
+can love the best; make your election, and I doubt not her heart will
+second my wishes and yours."
+
+"My noble friend," said Michael, "I accept your offer gratefully. You
+have made me the happiest of men. You will pardon me, I know, when I
+confess that I have dared to raise my eyes to one of your daughters.
+Without your consent the secret should have been hidden forever in my
+own heart, even had it consumed it."
+
+Count Tekeli shook the hand of the young man warmly, and then summoned
+his two daughters. They obeyed promptly. Both were agitated, and bent
+their eyes upon the floor.
+
+"Count Tekeli," said Michael, speaking in a calm, clear voice, "I have
+a word to say to this your younger daughter, the lady Anna."
+
+As her name was uttered, the young girl raised her eyes, inquiringly,
+to the face of the speaker.
+
+"Lady, but now," said Michael, "you solicited my forgiveness on your
+knees."
+
+"What!" cried the count, the blood mounting to his temples; "a
+daughter of mine solicit on her knees forgiveness of one so late my
+more than vassal--my slave! What is the meaning of this?"
+
+"It means," cried Michael, kindling as he spoke, "that this morning,
+during your absence, count,--nay, a half hour before your return,
+this, your younger daughter, in a moment of ill-founded jealousy and
+rage, usurping your virtual rights,--rights you had yourself
+annulled,--doomed me to the knout!--yea, had me scourged by menials in
+the court yard of your castle!"
+
+"How," cried the count, addressing his daughter, "dared you commit
+this infamy on the person of my friend--the savior of your life?"
+
+"I did, I did!" cried Anna, wringing her hands.
+
+"And you asked me to forgive you," said Michael. "You offered me your
+hand, and begged me to accept it. My answer is, Never, never, never!
+The moment you laid the bloody scourge upon my back, you lost your
+hold upon my heart forever! I were less than a man could I forgive
+this outrage on my manhood. I saved your life--you repaid it with the
+lash. It is not the lash that wounds, it is the shame. The one eats
+into the living flesh, the other into the living heart. Were you ten
+times more lovely than you are, you would ever be a monster in my
+eyes."
+
+The tears that coursed freely down the cheeks of the lady Anna ceased
+to fall as Michael ceased to speak. A deep red flush mounted to her
+temples, and her eyes, so lately humid, shot forth glances like those
+of an angry tigress. She turned to the count.
+
+"Father," said she, "will you permit a base-born slave to use such
+language to your daughter?"
+
+"Silence!" said the old man. "His heart is nobler than yours. More
+measured terms could not have passed his lips. I should have despised
+him had he felt and said less. Get thee to thy chamber, and in
+penitence and prayer relieve thy conscience of the sin thou hast
+committed."
+
+The lady Anna retired from the apartment with a haughty air and
+measured step.
+
+"Lady," said Michael, approaching Eudocia, "between your sister and
+myself there is a gulf impassable. If ever I can forgive her, it must
+be when those sweet and tender eyes, that speak a heart all steeped in
+gentleness and love, have smiled upon my hopes, and made me at peace
+with all the world. Dearest Eudocia, will you accept the devotion of
+my heart and life?"
+
+He took her hand; it trembled in his grasp, but was not withdrawn. She
+struggled for composure a moment, and then, resting her head upon his
+shoulder, wept for joy.
+
+The nuptials of Michael and Eudocia were soon celebrated. A brilliant
+assemblage graced the old castle on the occasion; but long before the
+solemnization, the count's younger daughter had fled to a convent to
+conceal her anger and despair.
+
+
+
+
+OBEYING ORDERS.
+
+
+The "oldest inhabitant" perfectly remembers the Widow Trotter, who
+used, many years ago, to inhabit a small wooden house away down in
+Hanover Street, in somewhat close proximity to Salutation Alley. Well,
+this widow was blessed with a son, who, like Goldsmith, and many other
+men distinguished in after life, was the dunce of his class. Numerous
+were the floggings which his stupidity brought upon him, and the road
+to knowledge was with him truly a "wale of tears."
+
+One day he came home, as usual, with red eyes and hands.
+
+"O, you blockhead!" screamed his mother,--she was a bit of a virago,
+Mrs. Trotter was,--"you've ben gettin' another lickin', I know."
+
+"O, yes," replied young Mr. Trotter; "that's one uv the reg'lar
+exercises--lickin' me. 'Arter I've licked Trotter,' sez the master,
+'I'll hear the 'rithmetic class.' But, mother, to change the subject,
+as the criminal said, when he found the judge was getting personal, is
+there enny arrand I can do for you?"
+
+"Yes," grumbled the widow; "only you're so eternal slow about every
+thing you undertake--go get a pitcher of water, and be four years
+about it, will ye?"
+
+Bob Trotter took the pitcher, and wended his way in the direction of
+the street pump; but he hadn't got far when he encountered his
+friend, Joe Buffer, the mate of a vessel, issuing from his house,
+dragging a heavy sea chest after him.
+
+"Come Bob," said Joe, "bear a hand, and help us down to Long Wharf
+with this."
+
+"Well, so I would," answered Bob, "only you see mother sent me arter a
+pitcher o' water."
+
+"What do you care about your mother--she don't care for you? Come
+along."
+
+"Well," said Bob, "first let me hide the pitcher where I can find it
+again."
+
+With these words he stowed away his earthenware under a flight of
+stone steps, and accompanied his friend aboard his ship. The pilot was
+urging the captain to cast off, and take advantage of the tide and
+wind, but the latter was awaiting the arrival of a boy who had shipped
+the day before, wishing no good to his eyes for the delay he had
+occasioned.
+
+At last he turned to Bob, and said,--
+
+"What do you say, youngster, to shipping with me? I'll treat you well,
+and give you ten dollars a month."
+
+"I should like to go," said Bob, hesitatingly. "But my mother----"
+
+"Hang your mother!" interrupted the captain. "She'll be glad to get
+rid of you. Come--will you go?"
+
+"I hain't got no clothes."
+
+"Here's a chestfull. That other chap was just your size; they'll fit
+you to a T."
+
+"I'll go."
+
+"Cast off that line there!" shouted the captain; and the ship fell off
+with the tide, and was soon standing down the bay with a fair wind,
+and every stitch of canvas set. She was bound for the northwest coast,
+_via_ Canton, and back again, which was then called the "double
+voyage," and usually occupied about four years.
+
+In the mean while, the non-appearance of Bob seriously alarmed his
+mother. A night passed, and the town crier was called into requisition
+a week, when she gave him up, had a note read for her in meeting, and
+went into mourning.
+
+Just four years after these occurrences the ship returned to port, and
+Bob and his friend were paid off. The wages of the widow's son
+amounted to just four hundred and eighty dollars, and he found, on
+squaring his accounts with the captain, that his advances had amounted
+to the odd tens, and four hundred dollars clear were the fruits of his
+long cruise.
+
+As he walked in the direction of his mother's house, in company with
+Joe, he scanned with a curious eye the houses, the shops, and the
+people that he passed. Nothing appeared changed; the same signs
+indicated an unchanging hospitality on the part of the same landlords,
+the same lumpers were standing at the same corners--it seemed as if he
+had been gone only a day. With the old sights and sounds, Bob's old
+feelings revived, and he almost dreaded to see, debouching from some
+alley, a detachment of boys sent by his ancient enemy, the
+schoolmaster, to know why he had been playing truant, and to carry him
+back to receive the customary walloping.
+
+When he was quite near home, he said,--
+
+"Joe, I wonder if any body's found that old pitcher."
+
+He stooped down, thrust his arm under the stone steps, and withdrew
+the identical piece of earthenware he had deposited there just four
+years ago.
+
+Having rinsed and filled it at the pump, he walked into his mother's
+house, and found her seated in her accustomed arm chair. She looked
+at him for a minute, recognized him, screamed, and exclaimed,--
+
+"Why, Bob! where _have_ you been? What have you been doing?"
+
+"Gettin' that pitcher o' water," answered Bob, setting it upon the
+table. "I always obey orders--you told me to be four years about it,
+and I was."
+
+
+
+
+THE DEACON'S HORSE.
+
+
+As you turn a corner of the road, passing the base of a huge hill of
+granite all overgrown with ivy and scrub oak, the deacon's house comes
+full in sight. It is a quaint old edifice of wood, whose architecture
+proclaims it as belonging to the ante-revolutionary period. Innocent
+of paint, its dingy shingles and moss-grown roof assimilated with the
+gray tint of the old stone fences and the granite boulders that rise
+from the surrounding pasture land. The upper story projects over the
+lower one, and in the huge double door that gives entrance to the hall
+there are traces of Indian bullets and tomahawks, reminiscences of
+that period when it was used as a blockhouse and served as a fortalice
+to protect the inhabitants of the surrounding district, who fled
+hither for protection from the vengeful steel and lead of the
+aborigines. On one side of the mansion is an extensive apple orchard
+of great antiquity, through which runs a living stream, whose babble
+in the summer solstice, mingled with the hum of insects, is the most
+refreshing sound to which the ear can listen. On the other side is one
+of those old-fashioned wells, whose "old oaken bucket" rises to the
+action of a "sweep." Two immemorial elm trees, in a green old age,
+shadow the trim shaven lawn in front. Opposite the house, on the other
+side of the road, is a vast barn, whose open doors, in the latter part
+of July, afford a glimpse of a compact mass of English hay, destined
+for the sustenance of the cattle in the dreary months of winter. We
+must not forget the huge wood pile, suggestive of a cheerful fireside
+in the long winter evenings.
+
+But where is the deacon's horse? Last year, and for the past twenty
+years preceding, you could hardly pass of a summer evening, without
+noticing an old gray quietly feeding by the roadside, lazily brushing
+off, with his long switch tail, the hungry flies that fastened on his
+flanks. The landscape is nothing without the old horse. The deacon
+reared him on the homestead. When a yearling he used to come regularly
+to the back door and there receive crusts of bread, crumbs of cake,
+and other delicacies, the free gifts of the children to their pet. He
+was the most wonderful colt that ever was--as docile as the house dog.
+When stray poultry trespassed on the grounds, he would lay his little
+ears back, and putting his nose close to the ground, curling up his
+lips and showing his white teeth, drive the marauders from the
+premises with such a "scare," that they would refrain from their
+incursions for a week to come. But he was incapable of injuring a
+living thing.
+
+When old enough for use, he submitted to the discipline of bit and
+bridle without a single opposing effort. And what a fine figure he
+made in harness! How smartly he trotted off to church carrying the
+whole family behind him in a Dearborn wagon! How proud was his
+carriage when he bore the deacon on his back!
+
+The old man once made a long journey on horseback, to visit a brother
+who lived in the northern part of New England. A great portion of the
+way there was only a bridle path to follow through the woods, and this
+was frequently obstructed by fallen trees. When the impediment was
+merely a bare trunk, the gallant gray cleared it gayly at a flying
+leap; when the tree was encumbered with branches, he clambered over
+it like a wild cat. Once the deacon was obliged to dismount, and crawl
+on his hands and knees through the dense branches; the sagacious horse
+imitated his example, and worked his way through like a panther.
+
+But age came upon the good gray. His sight began to fail--his knees to
+falter. His teeth were entirely worn away.
+
+After a bitter struggle the deacon concluded to replace him by a
+younger horse. Life had become a burden to the old family servant, of
+which it was a mercy to relieve him. Yet, even then, the deacon was
+reluctant to give a positive order for his execution.
+
+One day he called his eldest son to him.
+
+"Abijah," said he, "I'm going over to W., to get that colt I was
+speaking about. While I am gone I want you to _dispose_ of the poor
+old gray. I shouldn't like to sell him to any body that would abuse
+him."
+
+He could say no more--but Abijah understood him. When his father had
+gone, he went into the meadow, and dug a deep pit, beside which he
+placed the sods at first removed by the spade. He then carefully
+loaded his rifle and called to the old gray. The poor animal, who was
+accustomed to obey the voice of every member of the family, feebly
+neighed and tottered to the brink of the pit. The young man threw a
+handkerchief over the horse's eyes, and placing the muzzle of the
+rifle to his ear, fired. The poor old horse fell, without a groan,
+into the grave which had been prepared for him. With streaming eyes,
+Abijah threw the earth over the remains of his playmate, and then
+carefully replaced the sod.
+
+When the deacon returned with his fine new horse, he manifested no
+elation at his purchase, nor, though he perceived that the stall was
+empty, did he trust himself to make any inquiries respecting the old
+gray. Only the family noticed, that in the course of the afternoon, in
+wandering through the meadow, he came upon the new-made grave, and
+though the sods had been carefully replaced, he evidently noticed
+traces of the spade, and suspected the cause, for he tried the soil
+with his foot, and was also observed to pass the back of his hand
+across his eyes. But he never alluded to his old servant.
+
+If there be men who can smile at the grief of a family for the loss of
+an animal who has been long endeared to them by service and
+association, be assured that their hearts are not in the right place;
+and that they are individuals who would exhibit a like callousness to
+the loss of human friends.
+
+
+
+
+THE CONTRABANDISTA.
+
+A TALE OF THE PACIFIC COAST.
+
+
+Night was setting in--a clear, starlight night--as a small armed brig
+was working her way into a little bay upon the western coast of
+Mexico. She was a trim-built craft, and not too deeply laden to
+conceal the symmetry of her dark and exquisitely-modelled hull. The
+cleanness of her run, the elegance of her lines, the rake of her
+slender masts, and the cut of her sails, showed her, at a glance, to
+be a Baltimore-built clipper--at the time of which we speak--some
+years ago--the fastest thing upon the ocean. She was working to
+windward against a light breeze, and hence was unable to exhibit any
+thing of her qualities, though a seaman's eye would have decided at a
+glance that she could sail like a witch. The Zanthe, for that was the
+name inscribed in gilt letters on her stern and sideboards, might have
+been a dangerous customer in a brush, for her armament consisted of
+ten brass eighteens, and her crew of sixty picked seamen--an abundance
+of men to work the brig, and serve her batteries with satisfaction and
+credit.
+
+Not to keep the reader any longer in suspense with regard to her
+character and purpose, we will inform him that the Zanthe was a
+smuggler, and for some years had been engaged in the illegal game of
+defrauding the revenue of the Mexican republic. She was commanded by a
+Scotchman named Morris, and her first mate was a Yankee, answering to
+the hail of Pardon G. Simpkins, as gallant a fellow and as good a
+seaman as ever trod a plank. It was her custom to land contraband
+goods at different points upon the coast where lighters were kept
+concealed, and where the merchandise was taken charge of by the
+shore-gang, a numerous and well-appointed body of picked men, mounted
+and armed to the teeth, and provided with a large number of mules for
+transporting the goods into the interior. The merchandise, lightered
+off from the brig, was hidden in the _chaparral_, if it came on shore
+before the mule trains were ready, and it was piled up with
+combustibles, in such a manner that, should the _vigilantes_ surprise
+them in sufficient numbers to effect a seizure, and overcome
+resistance, a match thrown among the booty secured its destruction in
+a few moments. A smoke by day and a fire by night, upon the shore, was
+the signal for the brig to approach and come to anchor.
+
+The Zanthe, as we before said, slowly worked her way to her anchorage.
+One by one, her white sails, on which the last flush of the sunset
+fires had just faded, were all furled, and, her anchors dropped, she
+swung round with the tide, and rode in safety. A Bengola light was
+displayed for a moment from the foretop, and answered by another from
+the shore.
+
+"All right, cap'n," said the mate, walking aft to where Morris was
+standing, near the wheel. "The critters have seen us, and that are
+firework means that there aint no vigilantes round abeout. I spose we
+shall hev the lighters along side airly in the mornin'."
+
+"Yes," said the captain. "I wonder whether Don Martinez is with the
+shore gang."
+
+"Not knowin', can't say," replied the mate. "Most likely he is,
+howsomdever--'cause our cargo is vallable, and he'd be likely to look
+after it."
+
+"You know, Pardon," said the captain, "this is to be our last voyage."
+
+"Edxactly," answered the mate.
+
+"And I hope it will turn out well for the owners. For my part, I'm
+tired of this life. Circumstances induced me to adopt it; but I can't
+say that in my conscience I have ever approved it."
+
+"Why, cap'n, you astonish me!" exclaimed the mate. "You don't mean to
+say that you think it's any harm to cheat the greasers."
+
+"Yes I do," replied the captain, shaking his head. "And I think the
+aggravation of the offence is, that I am an adopted citizen of the
+republic of the stars and stripes. I am engaged in defrauding the
+government of a sister republic."
+
+"A pretty sort er sister republic," replied the mate, disdainfully. "A
+poor, miserable set of thievin', throat-cuttin', monte-playin',
+cattle-stealin', bean-eatin' griffins. If our government had had any
+spunk, we'd have pitched into 'em long ago. And it was only because
+they're weaker than we be, that we haven't licked 'em into spun yarn."
+
+"But suppose, Pardon, we should be (a chance that, thank Heaven, has
+never yet occurred) overhauled by one of their revenue cutters."
+
+"The little Zanthe could walk away from her like a racer from a plough
+horse."
+
+"But, supposing we were surprised, and lay where we couldn't run."
+
+"Cap'n," said Pardon, glancing along the grim batteries of the Zanthe,
+"do you see them are lovely bull dogs? And them are sturdy Jacks
+what's a sittin' on the breeches of the guns? What on airth was they
+made for? A couple of broadsides, starboard and larboard, would settle
+the hash of the smartest revenue cutter that ever dipped her fore foot
+in the water."
+
+"And the after thought would never trouble you, Pardon?"
+
+"Never! 'shelp me, Bob," replied the mate, energetically. "Greasers
+isn't human bein's. Besides, it's all fair play, life for life, and
+the gentleman with the single fluke tail take the loser. Haint they
+set a price on our heads? Eight thousand dollars on your'n, and five
+thousand on mine? I never was worth five thousand down at Portland;
+but if they've marked me up too high, it's their own look out. They'll
+never be called upon to pay it. But this sellin' a fellur's head
+standin', like a lot of firewood, is excessively aggravatin', and gets
+a fellur's mad up. But, hallo, cap'n, here comes a shore boat. I'll
+bet it's Don Martinez."
+
+A row boat, manned by eight Mexicans, with a muffled figure in the
+stern sheets, now pulled out for the brig, and soon lay alongside. On
+being challenged, a preconcerted watchword was given in reply, and the
+oars being shipped, a couple of boat hooks held the boat fast at the
+foot of the starboard side-ladder. This done, the person in the stern
+sheets arose and prepared to ascend the brig's side.
+
+"Petticoats, by thunder!" muttered the mate. "What does this mean,
+cap'n?"
+
+Captain Morris was evidently surprised at the sex of his visitor, but
+he assisted and welcomed her on board with the frank courtesy of a
+seaman. The light of a battle lantern that stood upon the harness
+cask, displayed the dark but handsome features of a young Mexican
+senorita, whose small and graceful hand, sparkling with rings,
+gathered her silken _rebosa_ around her symmetrical figure, in folds
+that would have enchanted an artist.
+
+"Senor captain," said she, "I bear you a message from Martinez. He
+bade me tell you to land half your cargo here to-morrow, as before
+agreed upon. The remainder goes to Santa Rosara, fifty miles to the
+northward, where he awaits you with a chosen band."
+
+"Senorita," replied the captain, with hesitation, "it were ungallant
+to express a doubt. But ours is a perilous business, and on the mere
+word of a stranger--though that stranger be an accomplished lady----"
+
+"O, I come furnished with credentials, senor," interrupted the lady,
+with a smile; "there is a letter from Martinez."
+
+Captain Morris hastily perused the letter which the lady handed him.
+Its contents vouched for her fidelity, and, intimating that the lady
+was a dear friend of his, and likely to be soon intimately connected
+with him, committed her to the charge of the captain, and requested
+him to bring her on to Santa Rosara on board the brig.
+
+Morris immediately expressed his sense of the honor done him, and
+escorted the senorita below, where he abandoned his state room and
+cabin to her use. Pardon G. Simpkins walked his watch in great ill
+humor, muttering to himself incessantly.
+
+"What in the blazes keeps these here women folks continually emergin'
+from their aliment and mixin' into other spheres? They're well enough
+ashore, but on soundin's and blue water they beat old Nick. And aboard
+a _contrabandista_, too! It's enough to make a Quaker kick his
+grandmother. Howsomdever, Morris is just soft-headed fool enough to
+like it, and think it all fine fun. I shouldn't wonder if he was ass
+enough to get spliced one of these days, and take his wife to sea. I
+think I see a doggarytype of myself took as mate of a vessel that
+sails with a cap'n's wife aboard."
+
+And, chuckling at this idea, he put an extra quid in his mouth, and
+ruminated in a better frame of mind.
+
+In the morning, Mr. Simpkins turned out betimes to prepare for the
+landing of a portion of the cargo; and he was busied in this duty,
+when an incident occurred that might well have startled a less ready
+and self-possessed man than the mate of the Zanthe.
+
+Suddenly rounding the headland on the north, a cutter, with the
+Mexican flag flying at her mizzen peak, and the muzzles of her guns
+gleaming through the port holes, came in view of the astonished mate.
+She stood into the bay, till within rifle shot of the bow of the
+Zanthe, when she dropped her sails and came to anchor.
+
+As she accomplished this manoeuvre, the mate mustered the crew, run
+out his guns, which were all shotted, and then quietly roused the
+captain and brought him on deck.
+
+"That looks a little wicked, cap'n," said the mate, pointing at the
+revenue cutter.
+
+The captain shook his head.
+
+"Now, cap'n," said the mate, briskly, "just speak the word, and I'll
+give him my starboard battery before the slow-motioned critter fires a
+gun."
+
+"No, no," said the captain; "wait!"
+
+Mr. Simpkins looked fixedly at the captain, thrust his hands deep into
+the pockets of his pea jacket, and sitting down on the breech of a
+gun, whistled Yankee Doodle in such slow time that it sounded like a
+dead march.
+
+In another minute, a barge was lowered from the side of the Mexican
+cutter, and manned with armed sailors, while an officer in uniform
+took his seat in the stern sheets.
+
+The barge pulled alongside, Captain Morris neither hailing nor
+offering to take any action in the premises. Leaving only a boatkeeper
+in the barge, the Mexican officer, followed by his crew, sprang up the
+ladder, and bounding on deck, struck his drawn sword on the capstan,
+and announced the Zanthe as his prize.
+
+"To whom shall I have the honor of surrendering?" asked Captain
+Morris, touching his hat.
+
+"My name," said the officer, glancing from a paper he held in his
+hand, as he spoke, "is Captain Ramon Morena, of the Vengador cutter.
+You, I presume, are Captain Morris, of the Zanthe."
+
+Morris bowed.
+
+"And you are Pardon G. Simpkins, I suppose," said the Mexican,
+addressing the mate.
+
+"Pardon G. Simpkins--five thousand dollars," replied that gentleman.
+
+"Captain Morena," said Morris, "before we proceed to business, do me
+the favor to walk into my cabin. While we are below," he added, "I
+trust your men will be ordered not to maltreat my poor fellows."
+
+The Mexican captain glanced, with some surprise, at the formidable
+array of men upon the deck of the Zanthe, and then, after a few words
+in Spanish to his boat's crew, followed the captain and mate into the
+cabin.
+
+Captain Morena was a very fine looking man of thirty, with magnificent
+hair and mustaches, and wore a very showy uniform. He threw himself
+carelessly upon the transom, and laid his sword upon the cabin table,
+while Morris and the mate seated themselves on camp stools.
+
+"Senor capitan," said Morris, "I trust, though it be early in the day,
+that you have no objection to take a glass of wine with me."
+
+The Mexican assented to the proposition, and the steward produced a
+bottle, glasses, and cigars.
+
+"Your health, capitan," said Morris, with a courteous smile; "and may
+you ever be as successful as on the present occasion."
+
+"Muchas gracias senor," replied the Mexican; "you bear the loss of
+your brig very good humoredly. What may she be worth?"
+
+"She cost thirty thousand dollars in Baltimore," replied Morris.
+
+"You must regret to lose her."
+
+"That admits no question, senor."
+
+"But that is of minor importance, compared with your other loss."
+
+"What loss?"
+
+"The loss of your life. I fear nothing can save you or your friend
+here. Yet, perhaps, intercession may do something. I suppose you would
+prefer being shot to hanging from the yard-arm."
+
+"Decidedly," answered Morris.
+
+"Or working for life on the highway, with a ball and chain, you would
+think preferable to both."
+
+"Cap'n Morris," said the mate, speaking in English, "it strikes me
+that our friend in the hairy face is a leetle grain out in his
+reckoning; 'pears to me, that instead of our bein' in his power, he's
+in ourn. Just say the word, and I'll gin the Vengador a broadside
+that'll sink her in the shiver of a main topsail."
+
+"You are right, Pardon," said the captain, smiling; "the gentleman has
+missed a figure, certainly. Captain Morena," he added, speaking in
+Spanish, "you have made a small mistake; you are _my_ prisoner, sir.
+Nay, start not; you are completely in my power. Dare but to breathe
+another word of menace, or offer to resist me, and the Vengador shall
+go to Davy Jones. Pass me that sword."
+
+Morena, taken by surprise, obeyed.
+
+"Gi' me his toastin' fork, cap'n," said the mate, "and I'll lock it up
+in my state room;" which was done almost as soon as said.
+
+"And now, Captain Morena," said Morris, "just walk on deck and explain
+matters to your people, and then I'll show you how fast a Yankee crew
+and Mexican lightermen can unload a contrabandista."
+
+They adjourned to the deck, and the Mexican captain was compelled to
+remain an inactive witness, while boat load after boat load of
+contraband goods was landed under his own eyes, and the very guns of
+his cutter. When the work was finished, Captain Morris approached
+Morena, and said,--
+
+"Captain, I have a word to say to you. I am going up the coast fifty
+miles, to land the remainder of my cargo at Santa Rosara. Give me your
+word that you will not follow and molest me, that you will not breathe
+a word of what you have seen and heard, and I will restore your sword
+and release you on _parole_."
+
+The revenue captain gave the required pledge, and his sword was
+restored; after which his men were permitted to man the barge.
+
+"And now, captain, one bumper at parting," said the hospitable Morris.
+"The steward has just opened a fresh bottle, and besides I have a
+pleasant surprise for you."
+
+As they entered the cabin, Morena started back and uttered an
+exclamation as his eyes fell on the beautiful face and graceful figure
+of the Mexican senorita, who had taken her seat at the table.
+
+"Maria!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Yes," replied the lady, with sparkling eyes and heightened color. "I
+have escaped your power. The man who basely sought to coerce my
+inclinations has been baffled, and ere another sun has set, I shall be
+the bride of the smuggler Martinez."
+
+"Malediction!" cried the Mexican.
+
+"Come, come, cap'n," said the mate, "take a horn, and settle your
+proud stomach."
+
+"Never," said the Mexican. "A curse on all of ye!" and he sprang to
+the deck, threw himself into his barge, and was soon aboard of the
+cutter.
+
+As the clipper brig, with all her canvas set, and her larboard tacks
+aboard, bowed gracefully to the freshening breeze, and bowled away
+under the stern of the Mexican cutter, the mate said to the captain,--
+
+"Cap'n, I wish you'd just let me give that fellur a broadside, if it
+was only just to clean the guns, afore I run 'em in."
+
+"No, no," replied the captain, smiling, "honor bright, my boy. We'll
+keep our word to him."
+
+"That's more than he'll do to us," answered the mate, "or I don't know
+the natur of a greaser. One broadside from our starboard battery would
+settle him, and save all future trouble, and make every thing pleasant
+and comfortable on all sides."
+
+But Captain Morris would not listen to reason, and so the guns were
+secured, and the ports closed, and the little Zanthe went bounding on
+her course to Santa Rosara.
+
+She came to anchor in a deep bay which she entered at nightfall, and
+almost immediately a shore boat, under the command of Martinez,
+boarded the brig. The meeting between the smuggler and his bride was
+so affectionate, as to call a tear even into the eye of Mr. Pardon G.
+Simpkins. The smuggler laughed loudly when he heard of the
+discomfiture of Captain Morena, the discarded suitor of the senorita
+Maria.
+
+The next day all hands were employed in landing the remainder of the
+cargo, and at night a very worthy and accommodating priest came off
+from the shore, and united Martinez and Maria in the bonds of holy
+matrimony. The nuptials were celebrated with great rejoicings and
+revelry, and the fun was kept up till a late hour of the night, when
+the happy couple retired to the cabin.
+
+The first faint streaks of dawn were beginning to appear in the east,
+when the ever vigilant ear of the mate, who never took a wink of sleep
+while the brig was lying on shore, detected the cautious plunge of
+oars, and soon he descried a barge pulling towards the brig.
+
+"Catch a weazle asleep," said the Yankee to himself; "these greasers
+don't know as much as a farrer hen." And without arousing the captain,
+he quietly mustered the crew, and with as little noise as possible,
+the guns were run out upon the starboard side, which the boat was fast
+approaching.
+
+A moment after he hailed. No answer was given, but the light of the
+lanterns flashed on the arms of a large body of men, and the mate
+recognized the figure of the captain of the Vengador in the stern
+sheets.
+
+"Sheer off," shouted the mate, "or by the shade of Gin'ral Jackson,
+I'll blow you all to Davy Jones."
+
+"Pull for your lives," shouted the voice of Morena; and the boat
+bounded towards the brig.
+
+"Fire!" cried the mate.
+
+Crash went the guns! The iron hurtled through the air, and the
+splintering of wood, as the metal struck the barge, was distinctly
+heard amid the groans and shrieks of the vigilantes.
+
+In one moment it was all over. Morris and Martinez rushed to the deck.
+
+"What's the matter, Pardon?" asked the former.
+
+"Nothin', cap'n--cap'n, nothin'," answered the mate. "Only there aint
+quite so many greasers in the world at present, as there was five
+minutes since. Morena broke his parole, and tried to board us by
+surprise, and I gin' him my starboard battery--that's all."
+
+"Then I'm off for blue water!" cried the captain.
+
+"And I for the mountains!" said Martinez. "The mules are all packed
+and the horses saddled. The vigilantes must wear sharp spurs if they
+catch us."
+
+It was a hurried parting--that of the smuggler and his bride with the
+captain and mate of the Zanthe. But they got safely on shore, and the
+whole band effected their escape.
+
+The Zanthe spread her wings, and some days afterwards was crossing the
+equator. She was never known again as a free trader. The captain and
+mate had both "made their piles," and after arriving at the Atlantic
+states retired from sea. Pardon G. Simpkins took up his residence in
+Boston, and during the late war with Mexico, was very prominent in his
+denunciations of that republic, and very liberal in his donations to
+the Massachusetts regiment, to the members of which his parting
+admonition was, to "give them greasers fits."
+
+
+
+
+THE STAGE-STRUCK GENTLEMAN.
+
+
+Few amateurs of the drama have passed through their town lives,
+without having been, at some one period of their career, what is
+called stage struck, afflicted with a maniacal desire to make a "first
+appearance," to be designated in posters as a "YOUNG GENTLEMAN OF
+THIS CITY," in connection with one Mr. Shakspeare, the "author of
+certain plays." The stage-struck youth is easily recognized by certain
+symptoms which manifest themselves at an early stage of the disorder.
+He is apt to pass his hand frequently through his "horrent locks," to
+frown darkly without any possible reason, and to look daggers at his
+landlady when invited to help himself to brown-bread toast. His voice,
+in imitation of the "Boy," the "Great American tragedian," alternates
+between the deep bass of a veteran porker and the mellifluous tenor of
+a "pig's whisper." He is apt to roll his eyes quickly from side to
+side, to gasp and heave his chest most unaccountably. He reads nothing
+of the papers but the theatrical advertisements and critiques. He has
+an acquaintance with two or three fourth-rate stock actors and a scene
+shifter, and is consequently "up" in any amount of professional
+information and slang, which he retails to every one he meets, without
+regard to the taste or time of his auditors. Have you seen the new
+drama of the Parricidal Oysterman? If you have, you must agree with
+him it is the greatest affair old Pel. has ever brought out; if you
+have not, you must submit to his contemptuous pity for your ignorance.
+For a person who passes his evenings in the society of books and
+friends, or in the country, the stage-struck gentleman has the most
+profound contempt. How one can live without nightly inhaling the odor
+of gas and orange peel, is to him a mystery inexplicable. He is aided
+and abetted in his practices by the sympathy and example of other
+stage-struck youths, all "foredoomed their fathers' soul to cross,"
+all loathing their daily avocations for the time being, all spending
+their earnings, or borrowings, or stealings, on bits of pasteboard
+that admit them to their nightly banquet. The stage struck always copy
+the traits of the leading actor of the hour, whoever he may be, and
+grunt and bluster in imitation of "Ned"--meaning Forrest--or quack and
+stutter _a la_ "Bill"--that is, Macready--as the wind of popular favor
+veers and changes. It is curious, at a representation of the
+"Gladiator," to winnow these young gentlemen from the mass by the lens
+of an opera glass. There you may see the knit brows, the high shirt
+collars, the folded arms, the pursed-up lips, the hats drawn down over
+the eyes, that are the certain indications of the stage-struck
+Forrestians.
+
+If, after the performance, fate and a designing oysterman place you in
+the next box to three or four of these geniuses, you will, unless very
+much of a philosopher, be disgusted, for the time being, with human
+nature. Their paltry imitations, their miserable brayings, their
+misquotations from Shakspeare, their mendacious accounts of interviews
+with the "Boy," will be enough to drive you mad. Some such thing as
+the following will occur:--
+
+_Waiter._ Here are your oysters, _gentlemen_; ("a slight shade of
+irony in the emphasis.")
+
+_Stage-struck Youth, No. 1_, (in a deep guttural tone.) "Let em come
+in--we're armed!"
+
+_Stage-struck Youth, No. 2_, (to waiter.) "Red ruffian, retire!"
+
+_Stage-struck Youth, No. 3_, (to Stage-struck Youth, No. 4.) "How are
+you _now_, Dick?"
+
+_Stage-struck Youth, No. 4._ "Richard's himself again!"
+
+_O, Dii immortales!_ can these things be? In other words, _can_ such
+_animals_ exist?
+
+It has been calculated by a celebrated mathematician, that out of
+every fourteen dozen of these stage-struck young gentlemen, one
+actually makes a first appearance. This event causes an enormous
+flutter in the circle of aspirants from which the promotion takes
+place. As the eventful night approaches, the most active and
+enterprising among them besiege the newspapers with elaborate puffs of
+their _confrere_, a column long, and are astonished and enraged that
+editors exclude them entirely, or exscissorize them to a dozen lines.
+Of what importance is the foreign news, in comparison with the first
+appearance of Bill Smithy in the arduous character of Hamlet? Has
+Colonel Greene no sympathy with struggling genius? Or is it the result
+of an infernal plot of the actors to put down competition, and sustain
+a professional monopoly?
+
+The stage-struck young gentleman has passed through the fiery ordeal
+of "rehearsals," has been duly pushed and shaken into his "suit of
+sables," glittering with steel bugles, his hands have been adorned
+with black kids, his plumed hat rests upon his brow, his rapier
+dangles at his side. The curtain goes up and he is pushed upon the
+stage. His first appearance is the signal for a thundering round of
+generous applause, in which his faithful fellow-Forrestians are
+leading _claquers_. But the audience soon discover that he is a "guy"
+escaped from the _surveillance_ an anxious mother. The stage-struck
+young gentleman is "goosed." Storms of hisses or bursts of ironical
+applause greet every sentence that he utters, and the curtain finally
+falls on his disgrace. This generally cures the disease of which we
+have been speaking. A night of agony, a week of pain, and the young
+gentleman, disenchanted and disenthralled, looks back upon his
+temporary mania with feelings of humiliation and surprise, cuts his
+aiders and abettors, and betakes himself seriously to the rational
+business of life.
+
+But there are some stage-struck gentlemen whom nothing can convince of
+their total unfitness for the stage. You may hiss them night after
+night, you may present them with bouquets of carrots, and wreaths of
+cabbage leaves and onions, and leather medals, and services of tin
+plate; and if you find them "insensible to kindness," you may try
+brickbats--but in vain. They will cling to the stage for life--living,
+or rather starving, as _attaches_ to some theatre, the signal for
+disturbance whenever they present themselves; detected by the lynx
+eyes of the public, whether disguised as Roman citizens or Neapolitan
+brigands, and severely punished for incompetency by heaped-up insult
+and abuse. These men live and die miserably; yet, doubtless, their
+lives are checkered with rays of hope; they regard themselves as
+martyrs, and die with the secret consciousness that they have "acted
+well their parts."
+
+
+
+
+THE DIAMOND STAR;
+
+OR,
+
+THE ENGLISHMAN'S ADVENTURE.
+
+A STORY OF VALENCIA.
+
+
+In a fine summer night in the latter half of the seventeenth century,
+(the day and year are immaterial,) Clarence Landon, a handsome and
+high-spirited young Englishman, who had been passing some time in the
+south of Spain, was standing on the banks of the Guadalquiver, in the
+environs of the ancient city of Valencia, watching with anxious eyes
+the fading sails of a small felucca, just visible in the golden rays
+of the rising moon, as, catching a breath of the freshening western
+breeze, they bore the light craft out upon the blue bosom of the
+Mediterranean. Though the scene was one of surpassing beauty, though
+the air was balmy, and came to his brow laden with the fragrance of
+the orange, the myrtle, and the rose, the expression of the young
+man's face was melancholy in the extreme.
+
+"Too late!" he muttered to himself; "too late! It is hard, after
+having ventured so much for them, that I should have been baffled in
+my attempt to escape with them. However, they are safe and happy. If
+this breeze holds, they will soon pass Cape St. Martin. Dear Estella,
+how I value this pledge of your friendship and gratitude."
+
+And the young man, after raising to his lips a small diamond star,
+attached to a golden chain, deposited the trinket in his bosom, and
+then, with a parting glance at the distant vessel, turned homewards in
+the direction of the city gates.
+
+Absorbed in his own reflections, he did not notice that his footsteps
+were dogged by a tall figure, muffled in a black cloak, which pursued
+him in the moonlight, like his shadow, and left him only when he
+entered his _posada_.
+
+Landon spent some time in his room in reading and arranging letters
+and papers; and when the clock of a neighboring cathedral sounded the
+hour of eleven, threw himself upon his bed without undressing, and was
+soon asleep. From a disturbed and unrefreshing slumber, crowded with
+vexatious visions, he was suddenly and rudely roused by a rough hand
+laid upon his shoulder. He started upright in bed, and gazed around
+him with astonishment. His chamber was filled by half a dozen
+sinister-looking men, robed entirely in black, in whom he recognized,
+not without a shudder, the dreaded familiars of the Holy Office, the
+officials of the Inquisitorial Tribune. His first impulse was to grope
+for his arms; but his sword and pistols had been removed. A rough
+voice bade him arise and follow, and he had no choice but to obey the
+mandate. Preceded and followed by the familiars, who were all armed,
+as he judged by the clash of steel that attended each footstep, though
+no weapons were apparent, he descended the staircase, came out upon
+the street, and was conducted through many a winding lane and passage
+to a low-browed arch, which opened into the basement story of a huge
+embattled building, that rose like a fortress before him. The
+conductor of the band halted here, and knocking thrice upon an oaken
+door, studded with huge iron nails, it was opened silently, and the
+party entered a dark, subterranean passage of stone, lighted only by
+a smoky cresset lamp swinging in a recess.
+
+After passing through this corridor, Landon was conducted into a huge
+vaulted hall, dimly illuminated by the branches of an iron chandelier,
+by whose light he discovered in front of him a raised platform, on
+which were seated three men, robed in black, while before them, at a
+table, sat two others, similarly attired, with writing implements
+before them. On the platform was planted a huge banner, the blazon on
+the folds of which was a wooden cross, flanked by a branch of olive
+and a naked sword, the motto being, "_Exurge, Domine, et judica causam
+tuam._" _Rise, Lord, and judge thy cause._ It wanted neither this
+formidable standard, nor the implements of torture scattered around,
+to convince the young Englishman that he stood in the halls of the
+Inquisition.
+
+After being permitted to stand some time before the judges, that his
+mind might be impressed with the terrors of the place, the principal
+Inquisitor addressed him, demanding his name.
+
+"Clarence Landon," was the reply.
+
+"Your birthplace?"
+
+"London, England."
+
+"Your age?"
+
+"Twenty-five years."
+
+"Occupation?"
+
+"I am a gentleman of fortune, with no pursuit but that of knowledge
+and pleasure."
+
+"You are accused," said the judge, "of having aided and abetted a
+countryman of yours, named Walter Hamilton, in seducing and carrying
+off Estella Martinez, a lady of a noble house, and a sister of St.
+Ursula. How say you, guilty or not guilty?"
+
+"I am not guilty--I am not capable of the infamy with which you charge
+me."
+
+"He refuses to confess," said the judge, turning to a familiar, the
+sworn tormentor. "We must try the question. Sanchez, is the rack
+prepared?"
+
+The man addressed was a brawny, muscular ruffian, with a livid and
+forbidding countenance, whose dark eyes sparkled with pleasure as he
+bowed assent to the interrogation.
+
+"Hold!" cried Landon. "The truth can no longer harm any but myself;
+and though you may inflict death upon me, you shall not enjoy the
+fiendish satisfaction of mutilating my limbs with your horrid
+enginery. I did aid Hamilton, not indeed in ruining an injured maiden,
+but in rescuing from the thraldom she abhorred a lovely lady whom
+Providence formed to make the happiness of an honorable man. By this
+time Estella is a happy bride."
+
+"Her joys will be shortened," said the inquisitor, frowning. "They
+cannot long elude the power of Rodrigo d'Almonte, at once judge of the
+Holy Office and governor of Valencia."
+
+"Moderate your transports, governor," replied the Englishman, boldly;
+"the fugitives are beyond your reach. This very night a swift-winged
+felucca bore them away from these accursed shores, to a land of
+liberty and happiness."
+
+The brow of Rodrigo grew black as night.
+
+"Insolent!" he answered; "you have outraged and set at naught the
+authority of church and state; your life shall pay the forfeit."
+
+"Be it so," replied Landon, folding his arms; "but let me tell you,
+that for every drop of blood shed, my country will demand a life. The
+cross of St. George protects the meanest subject of the English
+crown."
+
+Rodrigo d'Almonte made no reply, but waving his hand, Landon was
+removed from the tribunal and thrown into a dungeon on the same floor
+with the hall of torture.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Towards the close of a sultry summer day, the narrow streets of
+Valencia wore an aspect of unusual activity and life, filled, as they
+were, with representatives of every class of citizens. The tide of
+human beings seemed to be setting in one direction, towards a plaza,
+or square, in the centre. The Alameda was deserted by its fashionable
+promenaders; and young and old--all, indeed, who were not
+bedridden--were at length congregated in the square. The attraction
+was soon explained; for in the centre of the plaza was seen a lofty
+platform of wood, on which was erected a stout stake or pillar, to
+which was affixed an iron chain and ring. Around this were heaped, to
+the height of several feet, huge fagots of dry wood, ready for the
+torch. A large body of men-at-arms kept the crowd back from a large
+open space around the platform. These preparations were made, so the
+popular rumor ran, for the punishment of a young Englishman, who had
+aided a Spanish nun in the violation of her vows.
+
+The numerous bells of the city were tolling heavily; and at length,
+after the patience of the populace had been nearly exhausted, the head
+of a column of men, marching in slow time, was seen to enter upon the
+plaza. First came the governor's guard, their steel caps and cuirasses
+and halberds polished like silver. After these, walked the officials
+of the Inquisition, and some friars of the order of St. Dominic,
+surrounding the unfortunate Landon, who wore the _corazo_, or pointed
+cap, upon his head, and the _san benito_, a robe painted all over
+with flames and devils, typifying the awful fate which awaited him. He
+ascended the scaffold with a firm step, while the _cortege_ ranged
+themselves around it; and the governor of Valencia, mounted on a
+splendid barbed charger, and wearing his inquisitorial robes over his
+military uniform, rode into the square, amid the _vivas_ of the crowd
+and the presented arms of the troops, and made a sign for the ceremony
+to proceed.
+
+As an officer, appointed for the purpose, was about to read the
+sentence, a great tumult arose in the square, and attracted the
+attention of all the spectators.
+
+"What is the meaning of this, Alvarez?" asked the governor, addressing
+one of his lieutenants.
+
+"The people, please your excellency, have got hold of Isaac, the rich
+Jew, and insist on his beholding the august spectacle of the _auto da
+fe_."
+
+"The unbelieving dog has never liked these brave shows," answered the
+governor, with a grim smile, "since his well-beloved brother,
+Issachar, expiated his heresy on this spot in the great auto, when we
+burned twenty of his tribe before the king. Beshrew my heart! he
+abuses my clemency in permitting him to hold house and gold here in
+Valencia. He shall behold the execution! Make room there, and drag him
+into the heart of the hollow square."
+
+The cruel order was obeyed; and the old Jew, who was a mild and
+venerable-looking man, was forced into the centre of the plaza, whence
+he could have a full view of the horrid scene about to be enacted.
+
+But the indignities to which he had been subjected aroused a latent
+spark of fire even in the soul of the aged Hebrew. He lifted up his
+voice and cried aloud:--
+
+"Spaniards! Christians! are ye men, or are ye brutes? Fear ye not the
+vengeance of Heaven, when ye enact deeds that would make the savage
+blush? Think ye that Heaven will long withhold its vengeance from
+atrocities that cry aloud to it night and day--that the innocent blood
+ye have spilt will sink, unavenged, into the earth? Fear and tremble,
+for the hour of wrath and woe is at hand!"
+
+The energy and eloquence with which he spoke sent a strange thrill of
+terror through the crowd. The governor, alone insensible to fear,
+shouted from his saddle:--
+
+"Tremble for yourself, Isaac! for, by the rood! if you dare question
+the justice of the Holy Office, you shall share the fate of yonder
+prisoner."
+
+"I fear not the wrath of man," replied the Jew; "fear you the wrath of
+Heaven!"
+
+And at this moment, as if in vindication of his words, a heavy clap of
+thunder, that shook the city like the discharge of a park of
+artillery, broke upon the ear; and one of those sudden storms, so
+common in southerly latitudes, rolled up its dark masses of clouds,
+and the light of day was suddenly quenched, as in an eclipse. Vivid
+flashes of lightning lit the upturned and terror-stricken faces of the
+cowering multitude. At the same time, the wind howled fiercely through
+the streets that debouched upon the plaza, and tore the plumage that
+waved and tossed upon the helmets of the soldiery.
+
+"Executioner!" roared the governor, whose high, stern tones of
+military command were heard above the roar of the sudden tornado, "do
+your duty! Set fire to the fagots!"
+
+The order was obeyed; the torch was applied, and already a quivering,
+lurid flame shot up at the feet of the luckless Landon, when the storm
+burst forth with ungovernable fury. The scaffolding was blown down,
+the fragments scattered, and the rain, descending in torrents,
+instantly quenched both torch and fagot. The vast crowd was thrown
+into utter confusion; the terrified horses of the cavalry plunged
+madly among the footmen; hundreds fell and were trampled under foot;
+and prayers, shrieks, and imprecations filled the darkened air.
+
+Landon was unhurt amid the wreck of the sacrificial pyre. A ray of
+hope shot up in his heart. Scrambling out of the ruins, unobserved and
+unpursued, he fled down the nearest lane with the utmost speed.
+Anxious to obtain shelter, he, without even a thought, climbed a
+garden wall; once within which he was safe, for a moment, from
+pursuit. Rushing through a shaded alley of the garden, he found
+himself at the door of a large and splendid house. Almost without a
+hope of finding it yield, he tried the handle, and the door opened.
+Silently and swiftly he ascended a large, stone staircase, and took
+refuge in the first apartment which he found before him. A beautiful
+young girl, the only occupant of the room, starting at the fearful
+apparition of a stranger flying for his life, in the robe of the _san
+benito_, fell upon her knees and crossed herself repeatedly, as her
+dark eyes were fixed in terror on the intruder.
+
+"Lady!" cried Landon, "for the love of that Being whom we both
+worship, though in a different form, take pity on a wretched
+fellow-being. Save me! save me!"
+
+"You are accursed and condemned," she answered, rising and recoiling.
+
+"I am! I am!--but you know my offence. If you ever loved yourself, you
+know how to pardon it. Think of the horrid fate which awaits me, if
+you are pitiless."
+
+The lady paused and reflected, Landon watching the expression of her
+countenance with the most intense anxiety. At length her brow cleared
+up; there was an expression of sweetness about her rosy lips that
+revived hope in the heart of the fugitive.
+
+"I will save you if I can," she answered.
+
+"Heaven's best blessing on you for the word!" exclaimed the
+Englishman.
+
+"But you have come to a dangerous place for shelter and safety," she
+continued, sadly. "Do you know whose house this is? It is the dwelling
+of my father, Don Rodrigo d'Almonte, the governor of Valencia."
+
+Landon started back in terror, but he instantly recovered from that
+feeling.
+
+"You, then," he said, "are Donna Florinda, in praise of whose beauty
+and goodness all Valencia is eloquent. I feel that I am safe in your
+hands."
+
+"I will never betray you," said the lady. "You are safe here. It is my
+bed chamber," she continued, blushing; "but I resign it to you--sure,
+from your countenance, that you are a cavalier of honor, who will
+never give me cause to repent of the step."
+
+"Be sure of that."
+
+"Swear it," she said, "upon this trinket, which my father took from
+your person in the hall of the Inquisition."
+
+Landon took from Florinda's hand the diamond star given him by
+Estella, and thus mysteriously restored, and pressed it to his lips.
+
+"By this talisman," he said, "by this token, which I prize so highly,
+I pledge myself not to abuse your confidence, but to repay the
+priceless service you render me by a life of gratitude."
+
+"You may remain here, then, for the present," said Florinda, "till I
+can think what can be done for you."
+
+"If I can only make my way to the house of the English ambassador,"
+replied Landon, "I think I can count upon my safety."
+
+Donna Florinda, after lighting a lamp, (for it was now nightfall,)
+and setting upon a table some wine and fruit, left the chamber,
+locking the door behind her.
+
+Descending to the garden, she went directly to a secluded arbor,
+embowered in foliage, at no great distance from the house.
+
+"Cesareo!" she whispered.
+
+A young cavalier, who was concealed in the arbor, instantly advanced,
+and clasped her in his arms.
+
+"Dear Florinda," he cried, "I feared that you would disappoint me. But
+we have yet some happy moments to pass together."
+
+"Not a moment, Cesareo," replied the lady; "my father will soon
+return. I come to beg you to retire instantly, and await another
+opportunity of meeting."
+
+"You are anxious to get rid of me!" replied the cavalier.
+
+"Not so; my father will soon return, and he will be sure to inquire
+for me directly."
+
+"Well, then," said the lover, "if it must be so, go you to the house,
+and leave me the solitary pleasure of watching the window of the room
+gladdened by your presence."
+
+"No, no, Cesareo," cried Florinda, in terror, "that must not be."
+
+As she said this, her eyes were instinctively turned to the window of
+her room, and Cesareo's followed the same direction. The shadow of
+Landon's figure, as it passed between the lamp and the window, was
+seen defined distinctly on the curtain.
+
+"By Heaven!" cried Cesareo, "there is a man in your bed chamber!"
+
+"My father!" said Florinda.
+
+"You told me in your last breath that he had not returned. You are
+playing me false, Florinda. You have a lover, and a favored one."
+
+"No, no!" cried the agonized girl. "It is nothing, believe me--trust
+not appearances. I will explain all."
+
+But at this moment the distant clang of trumpets and kettledrums was
+heard, announcing the governor's return.
+
+"I must begone!" cried Florinda; "believe me, I am faithful;" and with
+these words she fled into the house.
+
+"The dream is over!" said Cesareo. "But I will have vengeance on my
+rival;" and he left the garden, muttering curses, and grasping the
+cross hilt of his sword.
+
+Florinda flew to her chamber.
+
+"Fly!" she cried to Landon. "I have sheltered you at the risk of my
+reputation--my father is returning, and you must leave this house. A
+jealous lover may denounce me, and both of us be ruined forever.
+Farewell; climb the wall at the back of the garden, and take refuge in
+the next house. I will still watch over you."
+
+Landon obeyed, and made his escape from the governor's garden just as
+Don Rodrigo was entering his court yard. He crossed another small
+garden, and entered a small house at the extremity, the door of which
+was unbarred, and again found refuge in a room on the first floor,
+where he concealed himself behind a screen.
+
+He had not been here long before he heard footsteps entering the room,
+and the voices of two persons in conversation, one of whom was
+evidently a female, and the other an old man.
+
+"Dear father!" said the female, "I am rejoiced to see that you are
+returned. You never go forth in this city that you do not leave me
+trembling for your safety."
+
+"I have passed through much peril, Miriam," replied the man. "Snares
+and violence have beset my path. I went to carry the gold and the
+silver I had promised to Jacob, the goldsmith, when, lo! I was beset
+by the ungodly rabble."
+
+"Dear father!"
+
+"Yea! and they dragged me to their place of skulls--even to their
+accursed Golgotha, where the blood of mine only brother was drunken by
+the ravening flames, and where thirty of our brethren perished because
+they believed in the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob."
+
+"And did they force you to witness the _auto da fe_?"
+
+"They brought me to the place, Miriam--but there the spirit of
+prophecy descended upon me, and I lifted up my voice and denounced
+their abominations, even as the prophet of old did the iniquities of
+the Egyptian king. And lo! Miriam, there was a miracle wrought. The
+voice of Heaven spake in thunder to rebuke their impious
+bloodthirstiness. The floodgates of heaven were opened, and the rain
+descended in mighty torrents, and quenched the Moloch fires kindled by
+the Christians. And a great wind arose, and the scaffold was
+destroyed, and the goodly youth that stood thereupon was saved from
+the death of fire as the multitude were scattered."
+
+"And lives he, father?"
+
+"I fear not," answered the old man, sadly. "For if he were not crushed
+by the falling scaffold, yet verily the cruel swords of the troopers
+and the men-at-arms must have sought out his young life."
+
+At this moment, Landon stepped from his concealment.
+
+"No, my friends," said he, "I yet live to thank Heaven for its
+providential care. I have even found a friend in the household of my
+bitter enemy, for Donna Florinda d'Almonte sheltered me, and commended
+me to your roof."
+
+He now had time to scan the persons of his hosts. The elder, Isaac,
+the Jew, was, as we described him on his appearance in the plaza, a
+man of venerable appearance, with a mild and noble countenance,
+wearing the long beard and flowing robes of his race. His daughter,
+Miriam, had the commanding beauty, the dark eyes, the flowing hair,
+and the bold features of the daughters of Israel. She was richly clad
+in robes of silk, and many a jewel of price gleamed in the raven
+tresses of her hair.
+
+"Thou art safe beneath this roof," said the Hebrew, "for Donna
+Florinda, though the daughter of the man of tiger blood, hath yet
+befriended us and ours, and for her sake as well as for thine, thou
+art welcome."
+
+Landon thanked his new friends for their hospitable pledges.
+
+"I would fain," said the old Hebrew, "give thee garments more fitting
+than the accursed robe that wraps thy youthful limbs. But of a truth I
+have none of Spanish fashion, and the Jewish gabardine is almost as
+fatal to the wearer as the robe of the _san benito_."
+
+"Here comes Reuben," said Miriam. "Welcome home, dear brother."
+
+A handsome youth of sixteen entered at this moment, and saluted his
+father, his sister, and the stranger. He bore a bundle in his arms.
+
+"I was charged," he said, "by the lady Florinda, to bear this packet
+to the stranger I should find here. It contains a Spanish dress. She
+bid me say," he continued, addressing Landon, "that when you have put
+on these habiliments, you can repair with me to the governor's garden
+at midnight. The waiting maid and confidant will conduct you through
+the house to the street, and once there you can make your way to the
+English ambassador's."
+
+After thanking the youthful messenger, Landon was shown to an
+apartment, where he was left alone to change his dress. Donna Florinda
+had supplied him with a plain but handsome cavalier's suit, including
+mantle, hat, and plume, and in addition to these, a good sword. Landon
+hailed this latter gift with joy, and buckled the belt with trembling
+eagerness. He drew the weapon, and found it to be a Toledo blade of
+the best temper. He kissed the sword with ecstasy.
+
+"Welcome!" he cried, "old friend! With you I can cut through odds, and
+at least sell my life dearly, if I fall again into the hands of the
+Philistines."
+
+Returning to his new friends, he sat down to a hearty meal which they
+had prepared for him, and to which he did an Englishman's justice. At
+the hour of twelve, his young friend Reuben signified his readiness to
+accompany him on his adventure.
+
+"Farewell!" he cried; "I owe you a debt that nothing can repay. But
+believe me that your kindness will always dwell in the heart of
+Clarence Landon."
+
+Reuben and the Englishman were soon in the governor's garden. It was
+pitch dark, and they advanced cautiously, groping their way. All at
+once Landon stumbled against some person.
+
+"Is it you, Reuben?" said he, in a low tone.
+
+But he was instantly grasped by the throat. Dealing his unknown
+assailant a blow with his clinched hand, which made him release his
+hold, the Englishman instantly drew his sword and threw himself on
+guard. His steel was crossed by another blade, and a fierce encounter
+ensued, the combatants being practised swordsmen, and guided, in the
+dark, by what swordsmen term the "perception of the blade." Reuben had
+made his escape, and gone to inform his father of this new disaster.
+The struggle was brief, for the antagonist of Landon, closing at the
+peril of his life, and being a man of herculean strength, wrested the
+sword from the Englishman's grasp, and held him at his mercy.
+
+"Now, dog!" whispered the victor, "have you any thing to offer why I
+should not take your life as a minion of the tyrant Rodrigo?"
+
+"I scorn to ask my life of an unknown assassin," replied Landon; "but
+I am no minion of Rodrigo's, and I was even now seeking to escape his
+clutches."
+
+"If there was light here," said the stranger, "I could see whether you
+lied, friend, by your looks. You may be palming off a tale upon me.
+How did you propose to escape Rodrigo?"
+
+"By making my way through his house," answered Landon.
+
+"A likely tale. How are you to gain access to his house?"
+
+"A waiting maid was to let me in."
+
+"Well, I'll test your veracity. I have your life in my hands. You are
+unarmed; I have rapier and dagger. The experiment costs me nothing."
+
+"It would be idle in me to interrogate you," said Landon; "it would be
+idle to ask who you are."
+
+"I will answer you frankly," replied the stranger; "I am one of those
+freebooters whose fortunes are their swords. If I were in Rodrigo's
+power, my life would not be worth five minutes' purchase; and yet I am
+seeking him to-night."
+
+"You speak in riddles."
+
+"Perhaps; but be silent now, if you value your life, and follow me."
+
+The stranger, still retaining a firm grasp upon the luckless Landon,
+approached a door which led into the governor's house, showing, in
+their progress, a perfect acquaintance with the labyrinthian alleys of
+the garden. They halted, and a female voice spoke in a whisper,
+saying, "Here's the key."
+
+The stranger grasped it, and dragging Landon into the house, instantly
+locked the door behind him. A dark lantern was placed on the floor of
+the corridor; the stranger told Landon to take this up, and precede
+him up stairs. Landon obeyed, the stranger following close behind, and
+giving him whispered directions as to his course.
+
+Having reached a certain door, the stranger took the light and entered
+a chamber, followed by the wondering Englishman. The walls of the room
+were heavily draped, and upon a huge bed the governor of Valencia was
+reclining, buried in a deep slumber.
+
+"He sleeps!" whispered the stranger in the ear of Landon; "he sleeps,
+as if he had never shed blood--as if the head of my brother had never
+fallen on the block by the hand of his bloody executioner. He will
+soon sleep sounder."
+
+"What mean you?" asked Landon.
+
+"Wait and see," was the reply.
+
+The stranger cautiously lifted the light in his left hand, bending
+over the sleeper, while with his right he drew a broad, sharp poniard
+from his belt, and raised it in the act to strike. But just as it was
+descending, Landon caught the assassin's arm, and shouted in his
+loudest tones,--
+
+"Don Rodrigo, wake!"
+
+"Baffled!" cried the ruffian, with an oath. "You shall pay with your
+life for interfering."
+
+The governor sprang from his bed in time to witness the deadly
+struggle between Landon and the midnight assassin. It was short and
+decisive, for as the robber was aiming a blow at his antagonist, the
+latter changed the direction, and it was buried to the hilt in his
+own heart. He fell, and died without a groan. The noise of the
+struggle had aroused the household, and the servants came pouring into
+the room with lights, accompanied by Donna Florinda, who was agonized
+with terror.
+
+"Dear father!" she cried, rushing into the governor's arms, "what does
+this mean?"
+
+"It means," replied Don Rodrigo, "that this ruffian, who had sworn to
+take my life because I had condemned his brother to death for manifold
+misdeeds, has been slain in the attempt by this young man."
+
+"And do you recognize your generous savior?" exclaimed the daughter.
+"Behold! it is the young Englishman you condemned to perish at the
+stake. O father!" And she explained the manner in which Landon had
+been enabled to save the governor's life.
+
+"Young man," said the governor, addressing Landon with deep emotion,
+"a mightier Power than the hand of man is visible in this. For the
+life you have saved I will repay you in the same manner. I insure you
+a full and free pardon, and you shall not have it to say that Don
+Rodrigo d'Almonte, bad as he has been represented, was a monster of
+ingratitude."
+
+And he kept his word. Landon soon after set sail for England, in
+company with the Hebrew family who had sheltered him, and there, in
+due time, was united to the lovely Miriam, with whose beauty he had
+been impressed on first sight. In England, he rejoined Hamilton and
+his Spanish bride, to secure whose happiness he had perilled his own
+life; and he always preserved Estella's diamond star as a memorial of
+his adventures in Valencia. Soon after his arrival he received a
+letter from Donna Florinda, announcing her marriage to Cesareo, whose
+jealousy had been so signally excited by Landon's shadow on the
+window curtain. When Don Rodrigo died, he was buried with all the
+honors due to a soldier, a governor, and an eminent member of that
+mild and benevolent institution, the Spanish Inquisition.
+
+
+
+
+THE GAME OF CHANCE.
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+At nightfall, on an autumnal evening, when the stars were just
+beginning to twinkle overhead like diamonds on a canopy of azure, two
+young men were standing together, engaged in conversation on the steps
+of the Black Eagle, a fashionable hotel in one of the principal
+streets of the gay and celebrated city of Vienna. One of them wore the
+rich uniform of an Austrian hussar; the other was clad in the civic
+costume of a gentleman.
+
+"So, all is completed at the ministry of war, except the signature of
+the commission, and the payment of the purchase money?" said the
+soldier.
+
+"Exactly so."
+
+"And to-morrow, then," continued the hussar, "I am to congratulate you
+on the command of a company, and salute you as Captain Ernest
+Walstein."
+
+The last speaker was Captain Christian Steinfort, an officer who had
+seen some two years' service.
+
+"Ah! my boy!" continued he, twirling his jet black mustache, "your
+uniform will be a passport to the smiles of the fair. But you already
+seem to have made your way to the good graces of Madame Von Berlingen,
+the rich widow who resides at this hotel."
+
+"Bah! she is forty," answered Ernest, carelessly.
+
+"But in fine preservation, and a beauty for all that," said Captain
+Steinfort. "The Baron Von Dangerfeld was desperately in love with her;
+but within a few days, the widow seems rather to have cut him. You are
+the happy man, after all."
+
+"Undeceive yourself, my dear Christian," said Ernest, blushing; "I
+have only flirted with the handsome widow. My hand is already engaged
+to a charming girl, Meena Altenburg, the playmate of my infancy,
+adopted and brought up by my good father. I am to marry her as soon as
+I get my company."
+
+"And what is to support you, Captain Ernest?"
+
+"My pay, of course, and the income of the moderate dowry my father,
+who is well enough off for a farmer, proposes to give his favorite.
+So, you see my lot in life is settled."
+
+"Precisely so," replied the captain. "But since you are free this
+evening, I engage you to pass it with me. Have you got any money about
+you?"
+
+"A good deal. Besides the price of my company, which is safely stowed
+away in bank notes in this breast pocket, I have a handful of ducats
+about me, with which I propose purchasing some trinkets for my bride.
+But I have a gold piece or two that I can spare, if----"
+
+"Poh! poh! I'm well enough provided," answered the captain. "You know
+this is pay day. Come along."
+
+"But whither?"
+
+"You shall see."
+
+With these words, the captain thrust his arm within that of his
+companion, and the pair walked off at a rapid rate. After passing
+through several streets, Steinfort halted, and rang at the door of a
+stately mansion. It was opened by a servant in handsome livery, and
+the young gentlemen entered and went up stairs.
+
+Walstein soon found himself in a scene very different from any of
+which he had ever dreamed of in his rustic and simple life upon his
+father's farm. Around a large table, covered with cloth, were seated
+more than a dozen persons of different ages, all so intent upon what
+was going forward, that the captain and his friend took their seats
+unnoticed. At the head of the table sat a man in a gray wig, with a
+pair of green spectacles upon his nose, before whom lay a pile of
+gold, and who was busily engaged in paying and receiving money, and in
+giving an impetus to a small ivory ball, which spun at intervals its
+appointed course. Walstein soon learned that this was a
+_rouge-et-noir_ table. The gentleman in the gray wig was the banker.
+
+"Make your game, gentlemen," said this individual, "while the ball
+spins. Your luck's as good as mine. It's all luck, gentlemen, at
+rouge-et-noir. Rouge-et-noir, gentlemen, the finest in all the world.
+Black wins; it's yours, sir--twenty ducats, and you've doubled it.
+Make your game--black or red."
+
+"Try your fortune, Ernest," said the captain. Ernest mechanically put
+down a few ducats on the red.
+
+"Red wins," said the banker, in the same monotonous tone. "Make your
+game, gentlemen, while the ball rolls."
+
+Why need we follow the fortunes of Ernest on this fatal evening, as he
+yielded, step by step, to the seduction to which he was now exposed
+for the first time in his life? Long after Steinfort left the gambling
+house, he continued to play. His luck turned. He had soon lost all his
+winnings, and the money set apart for his bridal presents. Still the
+ball rolled, and he continued to stake. He had broken the package of
+bank notes, the money he had received from his father for the
+purchase of his commission; and though he saw bill after bill swept
+away before his eyes, he continued to play, in the desperate hope of
+winning back his losses. At length his last ducat was gone. He rose
+and left the room, the last words ringing in his ears being,--
+
+"Make your game, gentlemen, while the ball rolls."
+
+Despairing and heart-stricken, the young man sought his hotel and his
+chamber. On the staircase he encountered Madame Von Berlingen, but he
+saw her not. His eyes were glazed. He did not notice or return her
+salutation. He threw himself upon his bed without undressing, and
+towards morning fell into an unrefreshing and dream-peopled slumber.
+
+When he arose, late the next day, he looked at himself in the glass,
+but scarcely recognized his own face, so changed was he by the mental
+agonies he had undergone. When he had paid some little attention to
+his toilet, he received a message from Madame Von Berlingen,
+requesting the favor of an interview in her apartments. He
+mechanically obeyed the summons, though ill fitted to sustain a
+conversation with a lady.
+
+The widow requested him to be seated.
+
+"Mr. Walstein," said she, with a smile, "you are growing very
+ungallant. I met you last night upon the staircase; but though I spoke
+to you, you had not a word or a nod for me."
+
+"Last night, madam," answered the unfortunate young man, "I was beside
+myself. O madam, if you knew all!"
+
+"I do know all," replied the lady.
+
+"What! that I had been gambling--that I had thrown away--yes, those
+are the words--every ducat of the money my poor father furnished me
+with to purchase my commission?"
+
+"Yes, I know all that. But the loss is not irreparable."
+
+"Pardon me, madam. My father, though reputed wealthy, is unable to
+furnish me with a similar sum, even if I were base enough to accept it
+at his hands."
+
+"But if some friend were to step forward."
+
+"Alas! I know none."
+
+"Mr. Walstein," said the lady, "I am rich. A loan of the requisite
+amount would not affect me in the least."
+
+"O madam!" cried the young man, "if you would indeed save me by such
+generosity, you would be an angel of mercy."
+
+"What is the amount of your loss?" inquired the lady, calmly, as she
+unlocked her desk.
+
+"Three thousand ducats," answered Ernest. "But I can give you no
+security for the payment."
+
+"Your note of hand is sufficient," said the lady, handing the young
+man a package of notes. "Please to count those, and see if the sum is
+correct. Here are writing materials."
+
+Ernest did as he was bid--counted the money, and then sat down at the
+desk.
+
+"Write at my dictation," said the lady.
+
+Ernest took up a pen and commenced.
+
+"The date," said the lady.
+
+Ernest wrote it.
+
+"Received of Anna Von Berlingen the sum of three thousand ducats."
+
+Ernest wrote and repeated, "three thousand ducats."
+
+"In consideration whereof, I promise to marry the aforesaid Anna Von
+Berlingen."
+
+"To marry you?" exclaimed Ernest.
+
+"Ay--to marry me!" said the lady. "Am I deformed--am I ugly--am I
+poor?"
+
+"I cannot do it--you know not the reason that induces me to refuse."
+
+"Then go home to your father and confess your guilt."
+
+Ernest reflected a few moments. He could not go home to his father
+with the frightful tale. It was a question between suicide and
+marriage--he signed the paper.
+
+"Now then, baron," said the widow to herself, as she carefully secured
+the promise, "you cannot say that you broke the heart of Anna by your
+cruelty. Take the money, Ernest," she added aloud; "go and purchase
+your commission."
+
+Ernest obeyed. His dreams of yesterday morning had all been dissipated
+by his own act; he felt a degraded and broken-spirited criminal. He
+had sold himself for gold.
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+"Here comes Captain Ernest!" cried a youthful voice. And a beautiful,
+blue-eyed girl of nineteen stood at the garden gate of a pretty farm
+house, watching the approach of a horseman, who, gayly attired in a
+hussar uniform, was galloping up the road. At her shout of delight, a
+sturdy old gray-haired man came forth and stood beside her.
+
+"Captain Ernest!" he repeated. "That sounds well. When I was of his
+age, I only carried a musket in the ranks. I never dreamed then that a
+son of mine could ever aspire to the epaulet."
+
+Ernest, waving his hand to Meena Altenburg and his father, rode past
+them to the stable, where he left his horse. He then rushed into the
+farm house where his father met him.
+
+"What is the meaning of this, boy?" he said. "How wild and haggard you
+look! And you have avoided Meena--and this, too, upon your wedding
+day."
+
+"My wedding day--O Heavens! I shall die," said the young man, sinking
+into a seat.
+
+As soon as he could collect himself, he told his father that he could
+not marry Meena, and the reason--he had pledged himself to another.
+The old man, who was the soul of honor, burst forth in violent
+imprecations, and drove him from his presence. As he left the house,
+the unfortunate young man encountered a person whom he at once
+recognized as the Baron Von Dangerfeld, the reputed suitor of Madame
+Von Berlingen.
+
+"I have been looking for you, Captain Walstein," said the baron,
+sternly.
+
+"And you have found me," answered the young man, shortly.
+
+"Yes--and I thank Heaven you wear that uniform. It entitles you to
+meet a German noble, and answer for your conduct."
+
+"I am answerable for my conduct to no living man," retorted Ernest.
+
+"You wear a sword."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Very well--if you refuse to give satisfaction for the injury you have
+done me, in robbing me of my mistress, I will proclaim you a coward in
+the presence of the regiment upon parade."
+
+"O, make yourself easy on that score, baron," answered Ernest. "Life
+is of too little worth for me to think of shielding it. If you will
+step with me into the shadow of yonder grove, we can soon regulate our
+accounts."
+
+The two men walked silently to the appointed spot, and without any
+preliminary, drew their swords and engaged in combat. The struggle was
+not of long duration, for Ernest wounded his adversary in the sword
+arm, and disarmed him.
+
+"Are you satisfied?" he asked.
+
+"I must be so for the present," replied the baron, sullenly. "When I
+recover, you shall hear from me again."
+
+"As you please," said Ernest, coldly. "In the mean time, suffer me to
+bind up your arm."
+
+The young man bandaged the wound of his adversary, and as he faltered
+from the loss of blood, led him towards the farm house. As they
+approached it, two ladies advanced to meet them--one of them was
+Meena, the other Madame Von Berlingen.
+
+"Dangerfeld wounded!" cried the latter, bursting into tears--"O, I
+have been the cause of this: forgive me--forgive me, Dangerfeld, or
+you will kill me."
+
+"You forget, madame, that you belong to another."
+
+"I am yours only--I can never love another. Nor does the person you
+allude to," added the lady, turning to Ernest, "cherish any attachment
+to me."
+
+"My only feeling for you, madame," said Ernest, with meaning, "would
+be gratitude, were a certain paper destroyed."
+
+"What is the meaning of all this?" asked the father of Ernest, coming
+forward.
+
+"It means," said Ernest, tearing to atoms the promissory note he
+received from the widow's hands, "that I had very ugly dreams last
+night--I dreamed that I played at rouge-et-noir, and lost all the
+money you gave me to purchase my commission with, and then that I made
+up the loss by promising----"
+
+"Hush!" said the widow, laying her finger on her lips.
+
+"Then it was all a dream," said the old man.
+
+"Look at my uniform," replied the captain.
+
+"And what did you mean in the story you told me just now?" asked the
+old man.
+
+"Forget it, father," said Ernest. "Dear Meena, look up, my love. It is
+our wedding day; and if you do but smile, I'm the happiest dog that
+wears a sabre and a doliman."
+
+That very day two weddings were celebrated in the farm house, those of
+Captain Ernest Walstein with the Fraulein Meena Altenburg, and Baron
+Von Dangerfeld with the yet beautiful and wealthy widow. The captain
+never tried his luck again at any GAME OF CHANCE.
+
+
+
+
+THE SOLDIER'S SON.
+
+
+Many, many years ago, at the close of a sultry summer's day, a man of
+middle age was slowly toiling up a hill in the environs of the
+pleasant village of Aumont, a small town in the south of France. The
+wayfarer was clad in the habiliments of a private of the infantry of
+the line; that is to say, he wore a long-skirted, blue coat, faced
+with red, much soiled and stained; kerseymere breeches that were once
+white, met at the knee by tattered gaiters of black cloth, an old
+battered chapeau, and a haversack, which he carried slung over his
+right shoulder, on a sheathed sabre. From time to time, he paused and
+wiped the heavy drops of perspiration that gathered constantly upon
+his forehead.
+
+"Courage, Francois, courage," said the soldier to himself; "a few
+paces more, and you will reach home. Ah, this is sufficiently
+fatiguing, but nothing to the sands of Egypt. May Heaven preserve my
+eyesight long enough to see my home--my wife--my brave boy Victor,
+once more! Grant me but that, kind Heaven, and I think I will repine
+at nothing that may happen further."
+
+It will be seen from the above, that Francois Bertrand belonged to the
+army which had recently covered itself with glory in the Egyptian
+campaign, under the command of General Bonaparte, a name already
+famous in military annals. He had fought like a hero in the battle of
+the Pyramids, when the squares of the French infantry repulsed the
+brilliant cavalry of Murad Bey, and destroyed the flower of the
+Mamelukes by the deadly fire of their musketry. Wounded in that
+memorable battle, he was afterwards attacked by the ophthalmia of the
+country; but his eyesight, though impaired, was not yet utterly
+destroyed. Honorably discharged, he had just arrived at Marseilles,
+from Egypt, and was now on his way home, eager to be folded in the
+arms of his beloved wife and his young son. So the soldier toiled
+bravely up the hill, for he knew that the white walls of his cottage
+and the foliage of his little vineyard would be visible in the valley
+commanded by the summit.
+
+At length he reached the brow of the hill, and gazed eagerly in the
+direction of his humble home; but O, agony, it was gone! In its place,
+a heap of blackened ruins lay smouldering in the sunlight that seemed
+to mock its desolation. Fatigue--weakness--were instantly forgotten,
+and the soldier rushed down the brow of the hill to the scene of the
+disaster. At the gate of his vineyard, he was met by little Victor, a
+boy of ten.
+
+"A soldier!" cried the boy, who did not recognize his father. "O sir,
+you come back from the wars, don't you? Perhaps you can tell me
+something about my poor papa?"
+
+"Victor, my boy, my dear boy! don't you know me?" cried the poor
+soldier; and he strained his son convulsively in his arms.
+
+"O, I know you now, my dear, dear papa," said the boy, sobbing. "I
+knew you by the voice--but how changed you are! Why, your mustaches
+are turned gray."
+
+"Victor, Victor, where is your mother?" gasped the soldier.
+
+"Poor mamma!" said the boy.
+
+"Speak--I charge you, boy."
+
+"She is dead."
+
+"Dead!" Francois fell to the ground as if a bullet had passed through
+his brain. When he recovered his senses, he saw Victor kneeling beside
+him, and bathing his head with cold water, which he had brought in his
+hat from a neighboring spring. In a few words, the child told him
+their cottage had taken fire in the night, and been burned to the
+ground, and his mother had perished in the flames.
+
+A kind cottager soon made his appearance, and conducted the
+unfortunate father and son to his humble cabin. Here they passed the
+night and one or two days following. During that time, Francois
+Bertrand neither ate nor slept, but wept over his misfortune with an
+agony that refused all consolation. On the third day only he regained
+his composure; but it was only to be conscious of a new and
+overwhelming misfortune. His eyesight was gone. The agony of mind he
+had suffered, and the tears he had shed, had completed the ravages of
+his disorder.
+
+"Where are you, Victor?" said the soldier.
+
+"Here, by your side, father; don't you see me?"
+
+"Alas! no, my boy. I can see nothing. Give me your little hand. Your
+poor father is blind."
+
+The agonizing sobs of the boy told him how keenly he appreciated his
+father's misfortune.
+
+"Dry your eyes, Victor;" said the soldier. "Remember the instructions
+of your poor mother, how she taught you to submit with resignation to
+all the sufferings that Providence sees fit to inflict upon us in this
+world of sorrow. Henceforth you must see for both of us; you will be
+my eyes, my boy."
+
+"Yes, father; and I will work for you and support you."
+
+"You are too young and delicate, Victor. We must beg our bread."
+
+"_Beg_, father?"
+
+"Yes, you shall guide my footsteps. There are good people in the world
+who will pity my infirmities and your youth. When they see my ragged
+uniform, they will say, 'There is one of the braves who upheld the
+honor of France upon the burning sands of Egypt,' and they will not
+fail to drop a few sous into the old soldier's hat. Come, Victor, we
+must march. We have been too long a burden on our poor neighbor.
+_Courage, mon enfant, le bon temps viendra._"
+
+And so the boy and his father set forth upon their wanderings. Neither
+asked alms; but when seated by the roadside, under the shadow of an
+overhanging tree, the passer-by would halt, and bestow a small sum
+upon the worn and blind soldier. Victor was devoted to his father, and
+Heaven smiled upon his filial affection. Though denied the society and
+sports so dear to his youth, he was always cheerful and happy in the
+accomplishment of his task. Often did his innocent gayety beguile his
+father into a temporary forgetfulness of his sufferings. Then he would
+place his hand upon the boy's head, and stroking his soft, curling
+locks, smile sweetly as his sightless eyes were turned towards him,
+and commence some stirring narrative of military adventure.
+
+In this way, days, weeks, months, and even years rolled by. They were
+every where well received and kindly treated; and all their physical
+wants were supplied. But the old soldier often sighed to think of the
+burden his misfortunes imposed upon his boy, and of his wearing out
+his young life without congenial companionship, without instruction,
+without a future beyond the life of a mendicant. He often prayed in
+secret that death might liberate, his little guide from his voluntary
+service.
+
+One day, Francois was seated alone on a stone by the roadside, Victor
+having gone to the neighboring village on an errand, when he suddenly
+heard a carriage stop beside him. The occupant, a man of middle age,
+alighted, and approached the soldier.
+
+"Your name," said the stranger, "is, I think, Francois Bertrand."
+
+"The same."
+
+"A soldier of the army of Egypt?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And that pretty boy who guides you is your son?"
+
+"He is--Heaven bless him!"
+
+"Amen! But has it never occurred to you, my friend, that you are doing
+him great injustice in keeping him by you at an age when he ought to
+be getting an education to enable him to push his way in the world?"
+
+"Alas! sir, I have often thought of it. But what could supply his
+place? and then, who would befriend and educate him?"
+
+"His place might be supplied by a dog--and for his protector, I,
+myself, who have no son, should be glad to adopt and educate him."
+
+His son's place supplied by a dog! The thought was agony. And to part
+with Victor! The idea was as cruel as death itself. The old soldier
+was silent.
+
+"You are silent, my friend. Has my offer offended you?"
+
+"No sir--no. But you will pardon a father's feelings."
+
+"I respect them--and I do not wish to hurry you. Take a day to think
+of my proposition, and to inform yourself respecting my character and
+position. I am a merchant. My name is Eugene Marmont, and I reside at
+No. 17 Rue St. Honore, Paris. I will meet you at this spot to-morrow
+at the same hour, and shall then expect an answer. _Au revoir._" He
+placed a golden louis in the hand of the soldier, and departed.
+
+A little reflection convinced Bertrand that it was his duty to accept
+the merchant's offer. But cruel as was the task of reconciling himself
+to parting with his son, that of inducing Victor to acquiesce in the
+arrangement was yet more difficult. It required the exercise of
+authority to sever the ties that bound the son to the father. But it
+was done--Victor resigned his task to a little dog that was procured
+by the merchant, and after an agonizing farewell was whirled away in
+Marmont's carriage.
+
+Years passed on. Victor outstripped all his companions at school, and
+stood at the head of the military academy; for he was striving to win
+a name and fortune for his father. The good Marmont, from time to
+time, endeavored to obtain tidings of the soldier; but the latter had
+purposely changed his usual route, and, satisfied that his son was in
+good hands, felt a sort of pride in not intruding his poverty and
+misfortunes on the notice of Victor's new companions. The boy,
+himself, was much distressed at not seeing or hearing from his father;
+but he kept struggling on, saying to himself, "_Courage, Victor--le
+bon temps viendra_--the good time will come."
+
+On the death of Marmont, he entered the army as a sub-lieutenant, and
+fought his way up to a captaincy under the eye of the emperor. At the
+close of a brilliant campaign he was invited to pass a few weeks at
+the chateau of a general officer named Duvivier, a few leagues from
+Paris. The company there was brilliant, composed of all that was most
+beautiful, talented, and distinguished in the circle in which the
+general moved. But the "star of that goodly company" was Julie
+Duvivier, the youthful and accomplished daughter of the general. Many
+distinguished suitors contended for the honor of her hand; but the
+moment Victor appeared, they felt they had a formidable rival. The
+belle of the chateau could not help showing her decided preference for
+him, though, with a modesty and delicacy natural to his position, he
+refrained from making any decided advances.
+
+One night, however, transported beyond himself by passion, he betrayed
+the secret of his heart to Julie, as he led her to her seat after an
+intoxicating waltz. The reception of his almost involuntary avowal was
+such as to convince him that his affection was returned. But he felt
+that he had done wrong--and a high sense of honor induced the young
+soldier immediately to seek the general, and make him a party to his
+wishes.
+
+He found him alone in the embrasure of a window that opened on the
+garden of the chateau.
+
+"General," said he, with military frankness, "I love your daughter."
+
+The general started, and cast a glance of displeasure on the young
+man.
+
+"I know you but slightly, Captain Bertrand," he answered, "but you are
+aware that the man who marries my daughter must be able to give her
+her true position in society. Show me the proofs of your nobility and
+wealth, and I will entertain your proposition."
+
+"Alas!" answered the young soldier in a faltering voice, "I feel that
+I have erred--pity me--forgive me--I was led astray by a passion too
+strong to be controlled. I have no name--and my fortune is my sword."
+
+The general bowed coldly, and the young soldier passed out into the
+garden. It was a brilliant moonlight evening. Every object was defined
+as clearly as if illuminated by the sun's rays. Removing his chapeau,
+that the night air might cool his fevered brow, he was about to take
+his favorite seat beside the fountain where he had passed many hours
+in weaving bright visions of the future, when he perceived that it was
+already occupied. An old man in a faded military uniform sat there,
+with a little dog lying at his feet. One glance was sufficient--the
+next instant Victor folded his father in his arms.
+
+"Father!" "My boy!" The words were interrupted by convulsive sobs.
+
+After the first passionate greeting was over, the old man passed his
+hand over his son's dress, and a smile of joy was revealed by the
+bright moonbeams.
+
+"A soldier! I thought I heard the clatter of your sabre," said the old
+man. "Where did you get these epaulets?"
+
+"At Austerlitz, father--they were given me by the emperor."
+
+"Long live the emperor!" said the old man. "He never forgets his
+children."
+
+"No, father. For when he gave me my commission, he said, thoughtfully,
+'Bertrand! your name is familiar.' 'Yes, sire--my father served under
+the tricolor.' 'I remember--he was one of my old Egyptians.' And
+then--father--then he gave me the cross of the legion--and told me,
+when I found you, to affix it to your breast in his name."
+
+"It is almost too much!" sighed the old soldier, as the young officer
+produced the cross and attached it to his father's breast.
+
+"And now," said the young man, "give me your hand as of old, dear
+father, and let me lead you."
+
+"Whither?"
+
+"Into the saloon of the chateau, to present you to General Duvivier
+and his guests."
+
+"What! in my rags! before all that grand company?"
+
+"Why not, father? The ragged uniform of a brave soldier who bears the
+cross of honor on his breast is the proudest decoration in the world.
+Come, father."
+
+Leading his blind father, young Bertrand reentered the saloon he had
+so lately left, and went directly to the general, who was standing,
+surrounded by his glittering staff.
+
+"General," said he, "_here_ is my title of nobility--my father is all
+the wealth I possess in the world."
+
+Tears started to the general's eyes, and he shook the old soldier
+warmly by the hand. Then beckoning to Julie, he led her to Victor, and
+placed her trembling hand in his.
+
+"Let this dear girl," said he, "make amends for my coldness a moment
+since. A son so noble hearted is worthy of all happiness."
+
+In a word, Captain, afterwards Colonel, Bertrand married the general's
+daughter, and the happiness of their fireside was completed by the
+constant presence of the good old soldier, to whose self-denial Victor
+owed his honors and domestic bliss.
+
+
+
+
+TAKING CHARGE OF A LADY.
+
+
+The steamer Ben Franklin--it was many years ago, reader--was just on
+the point of leaving her dock at Providence, when a slender, pale
+young man, with sandy whiskers and green eyes, who had just safely
+stowed away his valise, honorably paid his fare, and purchased a
+supper ticket, and now stood on the upper deck, leaning on his blue
+cotton umbrella in a mild attitude of contemplation, was accosted by a
+benevolent-looking old gentleman, in gold-bowed spectacles, upon whose
+left arm hung a feminine, in a bright mazarine blue broadcloth
+travelling habit, with a gold watch at her waist, and a green veil
+over her face, with the (to a timid young man) startling question
+of,--
+
+"Pray, sir, will you be so kind as to take charge of a lady?"
+
+The slender young man with the blue cotton umbrella blushed up to the
+roots of his sandy hair, but he bowed deeply and affirmatively.
+
+"We were disappointed in not meeting a friend, sir," continued the
+benevolent-looking old gentleman, "and so I had to trust to chance for
+finding an escort to Fanny. Only as far as New York, sir; my daughter
+will give you very little trouble. She's a strong-minded, independent
+woman, sir, and abundantly able to take care of herself; but I don't
+like the idea of ladies travelling alone. If the boat sinks, sir,
+she's abundantly able to swim ashore. Good by, Fanny."
+
+"Father," said the lady in the blue habit, in a deep and mellow
+baritone,--rather a queer voice for a woman, though,--"a parting
+salute!" She threw back her veil, displaying a pair of piercing black
+eyes, kissed the paternal cheek, veiled the black eyes a moment with a
+lace-bordered handkerchief, as her sire descended the gang plank,--his
+exit being deprived of dignity by the sudden withdrawal of the
+board,--and then placed her arm within that of the sandy-haired young
+gentleman, and began walking him up and down the promenade deck.
+
+"Isn't this delightful?" said she. "O, what can exceed the pleasure of
+travelling, when one has a sympathizing friend as a companion!" And
+she rather pressed the arm of her companion. She was strong-handed as
+well as strong-minded.
+
+Mr. Brown, for that was the name of the timid young gentleman with the
+sandy hair and the blue cotton umbrella, was not particularly
+susceptible, for he had already lost his heart to a sandy-haired young
+lady, who resided in New York; and, besides, he didn't like
+strong-minded women; so he asked, very unromantically, but sensibly,
+if the happy parent of the lady in the blue habit had purchased her a
+ticket.
+
+"I believe--I am certain that he did not," was the reply. "Father is
+so forgetful!"
+
+"I'll do it myself then, ma'am--if you'll excuse me a moment. What
+name?"
+
+"Brown," said the lady.
+
+"My own name!" cried the young man.
+
+"Is it possible?" cried the blue beauty. "What a coincidence! How
+striking! charming!"
+
+She made no offer of money, and Brown invested his own funds in a
+passage and supper ticket.
+
+"You dear creature!" cried the lady, when he handed them to her, "you
+are very attentive. But there was no necessity for this supper ticket.
+I am the least eater in the world."
+
+She said nothing about the cost of the tickets; and how could Brown
+broach the subject?
+
+"There's that bell, at last!" she cried, when the supper bell rang;
+"do let's hurry down, Brown, for people are so rude and eager on board
+steamboats, that unless you move quick you lose your chance."
+
+Brown was hurried along by his fair friend, and she struggled through
+the crowd till she headed the column and got an excellent seat at the
+table. Our sandy-haired friend had exalted opinions of the delicacy of
+female appetites; he had never helped ladies at a ball, or seen them
+in a pantry at luncheon time, and fancied they fed as lightly as
+canary birds. He was rather glad to hear Fanny make that remark about
+the supper ticket on the promenade deck. But now he found she could
+eat. The cold drops of perspiration stood upon his forehead as he
+watched the evidences of her voracity. She was helped four times, by
+the captain, to beefsteak--no miniature slices either, but huge, broad
+cubes of solid flesh. A dish of oysters attracted her eye, and she
+gobbled them up every one. Toast and hot bread disappeared before her
+ravenous appetite. Sponge and pound cake were despatched with fearful
+celerity. She took up the attention of one particular nigger, and he
+looked weary and collapsed when the supper was finished.
+
+Yet, after all this, Fanny paraded the deck, and had the heart to talk
+about the "orbs of heaven," and Shelley, and Byron, and Tennyson, and
+Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Fanny Ellsler, and Schiller. Brown was very
+glad when she retired to the lady's cabin.
+
+The morning he rose late, purposely to avoid her till the boat touched
+the wharf. He engaged a carriage and hunted up the lady's baggage;
+fortunately there was not much of it. This done, he escorted her on
+shore, and handed her into the coach.
+
+"Now, then," said the one-eyed driver,--he had recently lost his eye
+in a fight, on the first night of his return from Blackwell's
+Island,--"where away? Oyster House, Merrikin, or Globe?"
+
+"Where are you going, madam?" asked Brown.
+
+"Where are _you_ going?" asked the lady.
+
+"To the American, ma'am."
+
+"What a coincidence!" exclaimed the lady, rolling up her black eyes.
+
+"American House, driver."
+
+"All right--in with you!" cried the one-eyed man, as he pitched Brown
+headlong into the coach, slammed the rickety door on him, sprang to
+his box, and lashed his sorry steeds into a gallop. In due time they
+arrived, and a room was engaged for the lady, and one for her
+cavalier.
+
+Brown went up town as soon as he had dressed, to see his sweetheart,
+taking particular care to say nothing of his namesake, the fair Fanny.
+
+The next day he was promenading Broadway with Miss S., when he was
+confronted, opposite St. Paul's, by a furious man, with black
+whiskers, who halted directly in his path.
+
+"Do you call yourself Brown?" asked the furious man, furiously.
+
+"That's my name, sir," said the sandy-haired young gentleman, meekly.
+
+"It's _my_ name, sir," shouted the furious man. "John Brown. Now you
+know who I am. Do you know Mrs. Brown?"
+
+"I don't know," stammered the unfortunate young man with sandy hair.
+
+"Who did you come from Providence with? answer me that!" roared the
+furious man, getting as black as his whiskers with apoplectic rage.
+
+"I--I took charge of a lady, certainly," stammered the guiltless but
+confounded young man.
+
+"You took charge of Mrs. Brown, sir--Fanny Sophonisba Brown, sir, who
+has left my bed and board without provocation, sir,--_vide_ the
+Providence papers, sir,--left me, sir, because I didn't approve of her
+strong-minded goings on, sir, her woman's-rights meetings, sir, and
+her nigger colonizations, sir, and her--but that's enough, sir."
+
+Here Miss Sumker, who was a mild, freckled-faced girl, dropped the arm
+of her companion, and meekly sat down on a doorstep, and covered her
+face with a handkerchief.
+
+"Mr. Brown, sir!" cried our poor young friend, finally plucking up a
+spirit.
+
+"Go it, lemons!" shouted a listening drayman, as he hung over the
+scene from one of his cart stakes.
+
+"Captain Brown," suggested the furious man, with smothered rage.
+
+"Well then, _Captain_ Brown," said Brown, 2d., spitefully, "the lady
+you allude to is a total stranger to me. She was put under my care by
+a benevolent-looking old gentleman, with gold-bowed spectacles, and
+she has already cost me ten dollars, money advanced on her account."
+
+"All persons are forbidden to trust the same, as I will pay no debts
+of her contracting," said the furious man, with gleams of unmitigated
+ferocity and savage exultation.
+
+"Then I'm done brown, that's all," said the young man, gloomily. "As
+for Mrs. Fanny Sophonisba Brown, I never want to see her face again.
+She is at the American House, and you can recover her by proving
+property and paying charges. And, for my part, I hope I may be kicked
+to death by grasshoppers if ever I take charge of a lady again."
+
+This was the largest speech, probably, that the sandy-haired young man
+had ever made in his life. It was a regular "stunner," though. It
+convinced Miss Sumker, who had for a moment thought of withdrawing the
+light of her freckles from him forever, and who now hastened to
+replace her arm in his; and it convinced Captain Brown, who became
+suddenly as mild as moonbeams, shook his new acquaintance by the hand,
+and declared him a "fine young fellow."
+
+But the drayman was disgusted at the affair ending without a fight,
+and expressed his feelings, as he laid the lash across his horse, by
+the single exclamation, "Pickles!" thereby insinuating that the
+nauseous sweetness of the reconciliation required a strong dash of
+acidity to neutralize its flavor.
+
+The captain regained his strong-minded wife, and our sandy-haired
+friend went home with Miss Sumker, metamorphosed into Mrs. Brown,
+having "taken charge" of her for life.
+
+
+
+
+THE NEW YEAR'S BELLS.
+
+
+How the wind blew on the evening of the 31st December, in the
+year--but no matter for the date. It came roaring from the north,
+fraught with the icy chillness of those hyperborean regions that are
+lost to the sunlight for six months, the realm of ice-ribbed caverns,
+and snow mountains heaped up above the horizon in the cold and
+cheerless sky. On it came, that northern blast, howling and tearing,
+and menacing with destruction every obstacle that crossed its path. It
+dashed right through a gorge in the mountains, and twisted the arms of
+the rock-rooted hemlock and the giant oak, as if they were the twigs
+of saplings. Then it swept over the wild, waste meadows, rattling the
+frozen sedge, and whirling into eddies the few dry leaves that
+remained upon the surface of the earth. Next it invaded the principal
+street of the quaint old village, and played the mischief with the
+tall elms and the venerable buttonwoods that stood on either side like
+sentinels guarding the highway. How the old gilt lion that swung from
+the sign post of the tavern, hanging like a malefactor in irons, was
+shaken and disturbed! Backwards and forwards the animal was tossed,
+like a bark upon the ocean. Now he seemed as if about to turn a
+somerset and circumnavigate the beam from which he hung, creaking and
+groaning dismally all the while, like an unhappy soul in purgatory.
+The loose shutters of the upper story of the tavern chattered like
+the teeth of a witch-ridden old crone. But cheerful fires of hickory
+and maple were burning within doors; a merry group was gathered in the
+old oak parlor, and little recked the guests of the elemental war
+without. In fact, they knew nothing of it, till the driver of the
+village stage coach, making his appearance with a few flakes of snow
+on his snuff-colored surtout, announced, as he expanded his broad
+hands to the genial blaze, that it was a "wild night out of doors."
+
+But on--on sped the wild wind, driving the snow flakes before it as a
+victorious army sweeps away the routed skirmishers and outposts of the
+enemy. Away went the night wind on its wild errand, reaching at last a
+solitary cottage on the outskirts of the village. Here it revelled in
+unwonted fury, ripping up the loose shingles from the moss-grown
+rooftree, and forcing an entrance through many a yawning crevice.
+
+The scene within the cottage presented a strange and painful contrast
+to the interior of most of the comfortable houses in the flourishing
+village through which we have been hurrying on the wings of the cold
+north wind. The room was scantily furnished. There were two or three
+very old-fashioned, rickety, straw-bottomed chairs, an oaken stool or
+two, and a pine table. The hour hand of a wooden clock on the mantel
+piece pointed to eleven. A fire of chips and brushwood was smouldering
+on the hearth. In one corner of the room, near the fireplace, on a
+heap of straw, covered with a blanket, two little boys lay sleeping in
+each other's arms. Crouched near the table, her features dimly lighted
+by a tallow candle, sat a woman advanced in life, clad in faded but
+cleanly garments, whose hollow cheeks and sunken eye told a painful
+tale of sorrow and destitution. Those sad eyes were fixed anxiously
+and imploringly upon the stern, grim face of a hard-featured old man,
+who, with hat pulled over his shaggy gray eyebrows, was standing,
+resting on a stout staff, in the centre of the floor.
+
+"So, you haven't got any money for me," said the old man, in the
+harshest of all possible voices.
+
+"Alas! no, Mr. Wurm--if I had I should have brought it to you long
+ago," answered the poor woman. "I had raked and scraped a little
+together--but the sickness of these poor children--poor William's
+orphans--swept it all away--I haven't got a cent."
+
+"So much the worse for you, Mrs. Redman," answered the old man,
+harshly. "I've been easy with you--I've waited and waited--trusting
+your promises. I can't wait any longer. I want the money."
+
+"You want the money! Is it possible? Report speaks you rich."
+
+"It's false--false!" said the old man, bitterly. "I'm poor--I'm
+pinched. Ask the townspeople how I live. Do I look like a rich man?
+No, no! I tell you I want my dues--and I will have 'em."
+
+"I can't pay you," said the woman, sadly.
+
+"Then you must abide the consequences!"
+
+"What consequences?"
+
+"I've got an execution--that's all," said the hardhearted landlord.
+
+"An execution! what's that?"
+
+"A warrant to take all your goods."
+
+"My goods!" said the poor woman, looking round her with a melancholy
+smile. "Why I have nothing but what few things you see in this room.
+You surely wouldn't take those."
+
+"I'll take all I can get."
+
+"And leave me here with the bare walls."
+
+"No, no! you walk out of this to-morrow."
+
+"In the depth of winter! You cannot be so hardhearted."
+
+"We shall see that."
+
+"I care not for myself; but what is to become of these poor children?"
+
+"Send 'em to work in the factory."
+
+"But they are just recovering from sickness; they are too young to
+work. O, where, where can we go?"
+
+"To the poorhouse," said the landlord, fiercely.
+
+The poor woman rose, and approaching the landlord's feet, fell upon
+her knees, clasped her hands, and looked upward in his stern and
+unrelenting face.
+
+"Israel Wurm," she said, "has your heart grown as hard as the nether
+millstone? Have you forgotten the days of old lang syne? O, remember
+that we were once prosperous and happy; remember that misfortune and
+not sin has reduced me and mine to the deplorable state in which you
+find us. Remember that my husband was your early friend--your
+schoolfellow--your playmate. Remember that when he was rich and you
+poor, he gave you from his plenty--freely--bountifully--not gave with
+the expectation of a return; his gifts were bounties, not loans."
+
+"Therefore I owed him nothing," said the obdurate miser, turning away.
+
+"You shall hear me out," said the woman, starting to her feet. "I ask
+for a further delay; I ask you to stay the hard hand of the law. You
+profess to be a Christian; I demand justice and mercy in the name of
+those sleeping innocents, my poor grandchildren, whose father is in
+heaven. You _shall_ be merciful."
+
+"Heyday!" exclaimed the miser; "this is fine talk, upon my word. You
+_demand_ justice, do you? Well, you shall have it. The law is on my
+side, and I will carry it out to the letter."
+
+"Then," said the outraged woman, stretching forth her trembling hand,
+"the curse of the widow and the orphan shall be upon you. Sleeping or
+waking, it shall haunt you; and on your miserable death bed, when the
+ugly shapes that throng about the pillow of the dying sinner shall
+close around you, our malediction shall weigh like lead upon you, and
+your palsied lips shall fail to articulate the impotent prayer for
+that mercy to yourself which you denied to others. And now begone.
+This house is mine to-night, at least. Afflict it no longer with your
+presence. Go forth into the night; it is not darker than your
+benighted soul, nor is the north wind one half so pitiless as you."
+
+With a bitter curse upon his lips, but trembling and dismayed in spite
+of himself, Israel Wurm left the presence of the indignant victim of
+his cruelty, and turned his footsteps in the direction of his home.
+His _home_! It scarcely deserved the name. There was no fire there to
+thaw his chilled and trembling frame--no light to gleam athwart the
+darkness, and send forth its pilgrim rays to meet him and guide his
+footsteps to his threshold. No wife, no children, waited eagerly his
+return. It was the miser's home--dark, desolate, stern, and repulsive.
+Its deep cellars, its thick walls held hidden stores of gold, and
+notes, and bonds, but there were garnered up no treasures of the
+heart.
+
+The miser's path lay through the churchyard, a desolate place enough
+even in the gay noon of a midsummer day, now doubly repulsive in the
+wild midnight of midwinter. The wall was ruinous. The black iron
+gateway frowned, naked and ominous. The field of death was crowded
+with headstones of slate, and innumerable mounds marked the
+resting-place of many generations. The snow was now gathering fast
+over the dreary and desolate abode, as the miser stumbled along the
+beaten pathway, bending against the blast and drift. A strange
+numbness and drowsiness crept over him. He no longer felt the cold; an
+uncontrollable desire of slumber possessed him. He sat down upon a
+flat tombstone, and soon lost all consciousness of his actual
+situation.
+
+Suddenly he saw before him the well-known figure of the old sexton of
+the village, busily occupied in digging a grave. The winter had passed
+away; it was now midsummer. The birds were singing in the trees, and
+from the far green meadows sounded the low of cattle, and the tinkling
+of sheep bells. Even the graveyard looked no longer desolate, for on
+many of the little hillocks bright flowers were springing into bloom
+and verdure, attesting the affection that outlived death, and
+decorating with living bloom the precincts of decay.
+
+"My friend, for whom are you digging that grave?" asked Israel.
+
+The sexton looked up from his work, but did not seem to recognize the
+spokesman.
+
+"For a man that died last night; he is to be buried to-day."
+
+"Methinks this haste is somewhat indecorous," said Israel Wurm.
+
+"O, for the matter of that," said the sexton, "the sooner this
+fellow's out of the way the better. There's nobody to mourn for him."
+
+"Is he a pauper, then?"
+
+"O no! he was immensely rich."
+
+"And had he no relations--no friends?"
+
+"For relations, he had a nephew, who inherits all his property. The
+young dog will make the money fly, I tell you. As for friends, he had
+none. The poor dreaded him--the good despised him; for he was a
+hardhearted, selfish, griping man. In a word, he was a MISER," said the
+sexton.
+
+"A miser," faltered the trembling dreamer; "what was his name?"
+
+"Israel Wurm," replied the sexton.
+
+Graveyard and sexton faded away; in their place arose a splendid grove
+of trees--a clearing--a village school house. Two boys were sauntering
+along the roadside, engaged in serious, childish talk. One was fair,
+with golden locks; the other dark-haired and grave of aspect. Israel
+started, for in the latter he recognized himself--a boy of fifty years
+ago.
+
+"Israel," said the golden-haired boy, "it's 'lection day to-morrow;
+we'll hire Browning's horse and chaise, and go to Boston, and have a
+grand time on the Common, seeing all the shows."
+
+"You forget, Mark," said the dark-haired boy, sadly, "that I have no
+money."
+
+"What of that?" replied the other; "I have a pocket full; and what's
+mine is yours, you know. Come, cheer up, you'll one day he as rich as
+I am; and then it will be your turn to treat, you know. I can afford
+to be generous, and so would you be, if you had the means."
+
+Then the shadow passed from the face of the dark-haired boy, and a
+smile lighted up his countenance, and the two schoolfellows passed on
+their way together.
+
+Grove and school house passed away, melting into another scene like
+one of the dissolving views. Israel stood before a huge illuminated
+screen, in the midst of a gaping company of sight seers. He could see
+nothing but a confused mass of heads, vaguely lighted by the rays
+from that vast screen. It was some kind of an exhibition.
+
+"Now, ladies and gentlemen," said a strange voice issuing from the
+darkness, "we shall show you the wonders of the oxy-hydrogen
+microscope; natural objects magnified five thousand times. Look and
+behold the proboscis of the common house fly."
+
+Israel gazed with the rest, and soon a huge object, resembling the
+trunk of a monster elephant, appeared on the illuminated disk. It
+passed away.
+
+"Now, ladies and gentlemen," said the voice, "look well to the
+illuminated screen. What do you see now?"
+
+"Nothing!" was the universal and indignant answer.
+
+"I thought so," replied the voice. "Yet you have before you a miser's
+soul magnified five thousand times; a million such would not produce
+an image on the screen."
+
+The illuminated disk grew dark and disappeared; then a lurid light
+seemed to fill all space; and soon huge billows of flames rolled
+upward, and writhed and twisted together like a myriad of gigantic
+serpents. Shrieks and howls of anguish issued from the fiery mass, but
+above all was heard the startling clangor of a bell.
+
+"Halloo! who's this?" cried a voice that evidently issued from a set
+of powerful human lungs. The miser felt himself roughly shaken by the
+shoulder, and awoke.
+
+"What's the noise?--fire?" he asked; for the bell he had heard in his
+dream now jarred upon his waking senses.
+
+"Fire! no!" said the man who had awakened him--the butcher of the
+village. "It's the boys ringing in the new year. By the way, I wish
+you a happy new year, Mr. Wurm."
+
+"A happy new year, Mr. Wurm," said the schoolmaster for he, too, was
+present.
+
+"A happy new year," said Farmer Harrowby.
+
+"And a happy new year" chorused a dozen other voices. It was great fun
+wishing a miser a happy new year.
+
+"Thank you, neighbors; I wish you a thousand," replied Israel,
+cheerfully.
+
+"How came you asleep there?" asked Farmer Harrowby. "Why, you might
+have perished in the drift."
+
+"I was overcome by drowsiness," answered Israel. "I was very cold; I'd
+been to make a call on Widow Redman, and the poor soul was out of
+wood. By the way, farmer, the first thing after sunrise, I want you to
+be sure to gear up your ox team, and take a cord of your best hickory
+and pitch pine to the widow."
+
+"And who'll pay me?" asked the farmer, doubtfully.
+
+"I will, to be sure," answered Israel. "Have not I got money enough?
+Here--hold your hand;" and he put a handful of silver in the farmer's
+honest palm. "And you, Mr. Wilkins," he added, addressing the butcher,
+"take her the best turkey you've got, and half a pig, with my
+compliments, and a happy new year to her."
+
+"And how about that execution?" asked the constable, who was round
+with the rest, 'seeing the old year out and the new year in.'
+
+"Confound the execution! Don't let me hear another word about it,"
+said Israel, magnanimously. "And now, neighbors," he added, "I owe you
+something for your good wishes; come along with me to the Golden Lion,
+and I'll give you the best supper the tavern affords. Hurrah! New year
+don't come but once in a twelvemonth."
+
+We will be bound that a merrier party never left a churchyard, even
+after a funeral, nor a merrier set ever sat down to a festal board,
+than that which gathered to greet the hospitality of Israel Wurm. In
+the course of the evening, an old Scotch gardener gave it as his
+opinion that the "miser was _fey_." (When a man suddenly changes his
+character, as when a spendthrift becomes saving, or a niggard
+generous, the Scotch say that he is _fey_, and consider the change a
+forerunner of sudden death.)
+
+"No, my friends," said Israel, overhearing the remark, "I am not
+_fey_; and I mean to live a long while, Heaven willing, for I have
+just learned that the true secret of enjoying life is to do good to
+others. I had a dream to-night which has, I trust, made me a wiser and
+better man. The miser lies buried in yonder churchyard; Israel Wurm, a
+new man, has risen in his place; and as far as my means go, I intend
+that this shall be a happy new year to every one of my acquaintances."
+
+Israel was as good as his word, and never relapsed into his old
+habits. The widow and the orphan children were provided for by his
+bounty; he gave liberally to every object of charity. Hospitals,
+schools, and colleges were the recipients of his bounty; and when he
+died, in the fulness of years, the blessings of old and young followed
+him to his last resting-place in the old churchyard where he had
+dreamed the mysterious dream, and been awakened to a better life by
+the pealing of the NEW YEAR'S BELLS.
+
+
+
+
+THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW.
+
+
+"O, this is beautiful--beautiful indeed!" cried a young and silvery
+voice, musical as fairy bells heard at midnight. "How white this snowy
+drapery hangs upon the roofs of these bright palaces!" and the
+speaker, a gay boy, danced trippingly along, following in the
+footsteps of an old, gray-bearded man who was tottering before him.
+
+The old man turned. "You call that snowy drapery beautiful?" said he.
+
+"Yes--it is like the raiment of a bride," said the boy.
+
+"To me it seems a shroud thrown over the grave of buried hopes,"
+answered the old man.
+
+"But what are these joy bells ringing for?" said the boy.
+
+"For a death and for a birth!" replied the old man.
+
+"You speak riddles."
+
+"I speak truth. The same sounds have a different import to different
+ears. To mine there is a death knell in these tremulous vibrations of
+the air."
+
+"You are very old, father--and age has cankered you."
+
+"A twelvemonth since, young child of Time," replied the old man, "I
+was like you."
+
+"A twelvemonth! Your back is bent, your locks are silvery, your voice
+is tremulous. How is this?"
+
+"Wrinkles and gray hairs are the work of sorrows, not of years. Eyes
+that are weary of the sight of suffering grow dim apace."
+
+"But hark!" said the youth. "Hear you not that music--the peals of
+laughter that come from yonder illuminated house? It is a wedding
+festival."
+
+"Yes," replied the old man, sadly. "A twelvemonth since, I heard the
+same sounds in the same house. There was music and feasting--it was,
+as now, a wedding festival. Where is the bride? Go to yonder
+churchyard. You will find her name inscribed on a simple stone. If you
+pass out of the city to the north, you will see some huge buildings of
+brick, towering upon an eminence. If you linger by the garden wall you
+will hear shrieks and curses, the howls of despair, the ravings of
+hopeless lunacy. The husband is there--the victim of his own evil
+passions--a raving maniac."
+
+"Away with these croaking reminiscences!" cried the younger voice.
+"Let the music peal--let the dance go on. The wine is red within the
+cup."
+
+"Yes--and the deadly serpent lurks below."
+
+"Then the world is all desolate!" cried the New Year.
+
+"No! there are green spots in the desert!" said the Old Year; "but
+beware of deeming it all fairyland! But a little while and you will
+follow me. But the end is not here--after Time, Eternity! There
+suffering and sin are unknown. There each departed spirit, after
+making the circuit of its appointed sphere, shall rise to a higher and
+a higher, while boundless love and wisdom illuminate all, radiating
+from a centre whose brightness no human senses can conceive."
+
+The old man was gone. The joyous bells had rung his requiem. The young
+heir was enthroned--and with mingled hope and foreboding commenced the
+reign of 1853.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage,
+and Other Tales, by Francis A. Durivage
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THREE BRIDES, LOVE IN A ***
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