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diff --git a/41678-8.txt b/41678-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index db1bdf0..0000000 --- a/41678-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10059 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Belford's Magazine, Vol. II, No. 3, -February 1889, by Various - -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: Belford's Magazine, Vol. II, No. 3, February 1889 - Dec 1888-May 1889 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: December 21, 2012 [EBook #41678] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BELFORD'S MAGAZINE, FEBRUARY 1889 *** - - - - -Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, JoAnn Greenwood -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - BELFORD'S MAGAZINE. - - VOL. II. FEBRUARY, 1889. NO. 3. - - - - -_A FEW PRACTICAL FACTS FOR SENATOR EDMUNDS._ - - -I am a physician practising in a small manufacturing town, and am -doing very well so far as getting business goes--might even be able to -save a little money if it were not for the bad debts. They make my -income pretty small, considering the amount of hard work I am -compelled to do; and the time spent in endeavoring to collect my bills -takes a great many hours which, in justice to my patients who pay, -ought to be used in brushing up my medical studies and trying to keep -abreast with the rest of the profession. - -It is hard to get out of a warm bed at night and tramp off a mile or -so to look after a patient when you are not certain of ever getting -your pay, and it seems to grow worse instead of better. The number of -people who, because of their poverty, need a doctor the most are on -the increase; and yet so long as they are not poor because of vicious -habits, one really hasn't the heart to refuse when called upon. I hear -a great deal said about the prosperity of the workingman and the high -wages he receives, but observe as a matter of experience that only a -few are able to save enough to carry them through a few weeks' -illness, let alone paying the doctor, who is forced to wait months and -sometimes even years for his pay, getting it then a dollar or two at a -time. - -To be sure, some of my patients own homes of their own, but the most -of them are in debt, a mortgage being about as regular an attachment -to a workingman's house as a chimney. - -Wages, too, are not quite so high as they were when I began practice: -they fell pretty low at one time, and then, when human nature could -endure it no longer, came a strike. The employers were horrified; -there never had been a strike in this town before: the working men, -women, and children all received high wages. "There is John Smith, for -instance--earns eighty dollars a month. There is Miss Jones, who makes -two dollars a day. There are some who earn even more." True enough! -But one day I was called to see John Smith lying dead on his kitchen -floor; fell dead on coming home from work, died in the harness, worked -to death; a young man at that, and ought to have been good for twenty -years more. His employers wouldn't have allowed one of their horses to -work that way. - -I remember the first time I ever saw Miss Jones--a bright, pretty, -red-cheeked girl, fresh from the country and proud to think that she -could earn her own living; to-day you would not recognize her, bent, -haggard, and worn; the rosy cheeks all gone; and the sunken chest and -hollow cough too plainly prophesy the end is not far off. High wages? -Yes! for flesh and blood are cheap. - -Well, the strikers compromised, got a raise in wages of five per -cent., with pay once a month instead of half at the end of the month, -and the balance at the end of the year, as had been the custom. Most -of the employers gave up the "pluck-me store" system, and we had -better times. - -Every year there comes family after family, all skilled working men -and women, from over the ocean, and I begin to see men standing on the -street corners looking for work, while every now and then one of the -employers will cut down wages a little in some department of his -factory. - -I see the men and boys who were born here crowded out of their places -by the imported labor, leaving town, and later hear of them beginning -life over again in some western village, or taking up government lands -on the prairies. If it were not for the emigration out of the town, -wages would scarce be enough to support life, so fast does immigration -to the town keep up with the demand for labor. - -The place used to be full of little shops, and the business was -conducted by hundreds of small manufacturers who were but one remove -from their men; in fact, it was no uncommon thing for a man to begin -manufacturing for himself on the savings from two or three years' -labor. - -But now these small shops are used as tenements, and a dozen large -firms do nearly all the business, crowding the few small manufacturers -that are left closer and closer to the wall every year. This is -because much of our raw stock has to be imported: we can make only a -few kinds of our class of goods in this country. The large -manufacturer, who is generally an importer also, is thus able to offer -a full line of goods to the jobber, which the smaller fry can't do. - -The business is a highly protected industry, the people being taxed by -a tariff of fifty per cent to support it. - -In this connection a few figures may prove instructive: - - The total value of gloves manufactured during the - census year was $5,718,539 - For making which, labor received as wages 1,245,013 or 22% - And the raw material cost 3,404,937 - Leaving a surplus to the manufacturers of 1,068,589 or 23% - Yet their capital invested was only 2,690,048 - -The tariff of fifty per cent is sufficient therefore to enable the -manufacturer to pay, not the difference in wages between European -labor and American, but _all_ the wages and twenty-eight cents on the -dollar's worth of finished product besides; while--there being no -tariff on labor--foreign labor comes to compete with home labor just -so fast as the difference in wages will warrant the making of the -journey from the old country to the new. - -The tariff on gloves in an unfinished state is, however, but twenty -per cent, and at that rate many gloves are imported so nearly finished -as to require but little labor to fit them for the market: and here -the large dealer who imports is able to obtain another serious -advantage over the small dealer, and at the same time, while -pretending to protect labor, defraud it. - -The closing of the small shops, and the consequent driving of our -people into large factories, hurts the best skilled workman in that it -lessens the number of employers competing for his services. I have -been a protectionist in the past, for I was taught to believe that -protection raised wages; but the results of a careful inquiry as to -cause and effect have shown me pretty conclusively that it does not -and can not. - -I have talked with many workingmen who are beginning to perceive that -the tendency of wages to fall a little from time to time is due to the -competition of the "pauper labor of Europe," which coming to this -country, underbids them at the shop door, takes away their work, and -turns them out to shift for themselves; while the employer, who is -protected by a duty of fifty per cent, gets his labor in the lowest -market and sells his goods in the highest. - -Said a glove-cutter to me the other day: "Doctor, if all the -workingmen born and brought up here and all that have come from the -old country had remained here, wages would not be fifty cents a day. I -understand very well what keeps wages up in America: it's the great -West, with its free land acting as a safety valve; and the worst is -that so much of it has been given to railroads or sold to cattle -syndicates for a mere song. When the remaining free land is -appropriated, God help the workingman! - -"Yes, we're protected in all that we have to buy: food, clothing, and -shelter, in a way that increases the cost to us; but in what we have -to sell, our labor, we have no protection at all. They give us good -wages, for if they did not we would emigrate to the West and leave -them, and by reason of this confounded tariff they put up the price of -all we need so high that wages, measured by their purchasing power, -are not so large after all. If the difference in real wages was so -great as the protectionists claim, there would be more immigrants -coming from Europe in one day than do now in a year." - -The workingmen have been educating themselves in the last four years, -and are no longer to be deceived by superficial comparisons of the -differences in wages between countries; they will also examine into -the differences in conditions, productive power, and the like, which -the protectionist statistician omits to do. - - WILLIAM C. WOOD, M. D. - - - - -_IRAR'S PEARL._ - - -"One hundred golden pieces for this slave! Who bids?--who bids?" - -"One hundred golden pieces? Surely the man has some special talent to -be valued so highly." - -The speaker stopped, and drew near to the crowd that had gathered -about the group of captives crouched in the center of the -market-place. As he approached, one among the gathering said: - -"Room for the vizier; room, room!" - -And the assembled people drew back on either hand, leaving a pathway -clear. - -The man went forward, followed by his attendants, and faced the inner -group of the crowd, a picturesque gathering of armed Bedouins, swarthy -and turbaned, clustered about a number of captives whose lighter -complexion and free-flowing hair told of a more northern nativity, and -which the most ready-tongued of the warriors was now loudly offering -for sale. - -"One hundred golden pieces buys this slave," he cried again, his eye -quickly noticing the interest evinced by the glance of the new-comer; -an interest that his ready wit told him might be utilized to -advantage. - -"And why one hundred golden pieces for this man? Methinks I have seen -much stronger knaves sold for an hundred silver pieces; and, lo! you -ask for gold. Why?" - -"Your servant is a dog if he does not answer the question to the -satisfaction of the most exacting. This man comes from the sea that -lies beyond our northern mountains, and can live in the water. There -is no better diver than he; why, he has brought up pebbles that were -ten fathoms down, and surely each fathom's depth is worth ten golden -pieces." - -The speaker turned to the crowd for approval, and the affirmative nods -that greeted his appeal brought a smile of satisfaction to his dark -face. - -"If you speak truth, you are right," answered the vizier. "But where -is your proof?" - -"Ask the man; he will not lie." - -"Can you do what he claims for you?" questioned the vizier, turning to -the captive. - -A smile of mingled scorn and contempt passed like a flash across the -man's face, and then he said: - -"What will it matter to me whether I can or no?" - -"This," answered the vizier: "if you can, I shall purchase you for the -sultan's pearl fisheries. One pearl each day makes you free for the -remaining hours, and the sultan is not a hard master. I have known him -give slaves their freedom." - -"I need no freedom, for my people are here. Shall I have food and -shelter?" - -As he spoke his glance swept along the faces of the captives and -turned away, a bitter disappointment in it, as though it could not -find those for whom it sought. - -"You will have food and shelter; yea, and garments for all needs." - -"I can do more than he says," said the man. - -"Then I will give the golden pieces for him. Bring him to my palace -before the sun sets." - -And as the man bowed low in answer, the vizier turned and went slowly -down the street that led to the sultan's palace. - -That evening his new slave lay asleep on a rug in the rose-scented -corridor of the palace, and dreamt of freedom and love all through the -long hours of the night. - -The next day the vizier carried the man to the sultan's divan, and -having told of his accomplishments, presented him to his royal master, -whose great delight was the vast hoard of pearls that burned like -smothered sunbeams in his treasury. - -That same day the man was sent to the pearl fisheries on the gulf, and -it was ordered that should he prove successful he was to have a house -for his special accommodation, and, on his parole of honor, be allowed -the freedom of the city and ten leagues of the adjacent country. - -Taken to the fisheries, he soon proved himself the master of all -engaged in that dangerous work, and was quickly made the favorite of -the sultan by the brilliancy and largeness of the pearls that he -found. He was given a small house seated in the center of a garden -where fruits and flowers commingled in fragrant profusion, and his -food and clothing were such as he himself chose, for the orders of his -royal master made his wishes in these things law. - -His labor for the day was soon over, one pearl, often the result of a -five minutes' bath, made him free for the remainder of the twenty-four -hours. This time he employed in reading or in taking solitary walks -along the shore of the bay opposite to that where the fisheries were -located. Here a mass of frowning cliffs rose in dark grandeur against -the sky, and over and among these he would clamber for hours, their -steep acclivities and the wind-notes that echoed among them seeming to -have a strange fascination for him. - -At last there came a rumor to the court that the sovereign of a -distant Indian realm had become possessed of a pearl whose size and -brilliancy of hue were unequalled in the world; and the sultan, -hearing of this, sent an envoy to ascertain the truth of the report. -The return of this messenger confirmed the statement, and filled the -sultan's soul with envy. He knew that he could not purchase the gem, -but he determined to stimulate the efforts of his fishers, and for -this purpose he caused it to be announced that any slave who should -find a pearl more brilliant and larger than that possessed by the -Indian monarch should be given his freedom and one hundred thousand -pieces of gold. - -To Irar, for such was the name by which the northern diver had elected -to be known, this proclamation brought no joy. Others of the fishers -made desperate exertions to obtain the prize. He brought his daily -pearl and went away, basking in the sunlight of his garden, or -climbing some rough cliff that he had not scaled before. - -When questioned concerning this indifference, he smiled, a scornful -and bitter light burning for an instant in his eyes, as he answered: - -"Why should I desire to change my life? I have food, a home, clothing; -and life can give nothing beyond these. I have no country, no friends. -The foray that brought me here swept my people from the face of the -earth. My labor is light, my holidays are many. What benefits can -freedom give me?" - -If the philosophy of his questioner could find no adequate reply to -this argument, the passion that slumbered within the slave was not to -be so dumb. - -He had finished his daily task, and was loitering through a shaded -lane just outside of the walls of the city, when he saw approaching -the veiled form of a woman. As she came near him, the wind, that -kindly agent of man, came blustering down the lane, and before the -little brown hands could grasp the filmy white gauze that told of -maidenhood, blew it back from the face, and gave Irar a vision that no -time nor distance could efface. - -He was a strongly-built and handsome fellow, young and brave, just -such a man as would please the eyes and heart of a maiden whose love -was waiting the call it would so gladly obey; and though a heightened -color was hidden by the quickly captured veil, a pleased smile made -answer to Irar's look of respectful admiration. - -To his salutation, a voice sweet as the nightingale's responded, and -then the little form went tripping on, and disappeared through a -gateway a short distance from where he stood. - -The sunshine of his garden, the conquering of mighty cliffs, ceased to -have an attraction for Irar, and his feet seemed drawn to the secluded -lane in which this vision had come to him. It was strange how many -errands there were calling the little maid along that shaded way; and -the wind was ever at hand to give one or more glimpses of the face -that was growing sweeter and brighter every day. But while joy was -always a portion of these meetings, now and then a dark thought would -give its stab; for was he not a slave? And how could he dare to look -forward to a time when one so beautiful should be his own?--aye, all -and all his own? - -He had discovered that were he free he could claim this jewel, for she -was a peasant's daughter: and yet how far above him, for she was -free. - -He had but just left her, having felt the warmth of her breath so near -his cheek that it thrilled him like wine, and the clinging clasp of -her hand was still tingling in his blood. - -"Oh that I could own this pearl!" he cried: and then he shouted aloud -in great joyfulness, for the sultan's proclamation flashed up in his -mind, recalled by the word he had used. - -He would find the sultan a pearl; he would be free--yes, and rich. But -his northern blood was cool, and he made sure that his dear one should -not suffer should he not succeed at first. - -When he met her the next day he said: - -"I have come to bid you good-bye for a time." - -Her little hand trembled, and her bosom heaved as though a sob were -welling up for utterance. - -"Only for a time, remember," he went on. "And when I come again it -will be to claim a bride." - -There was a supreme confidence in his tone, a foreshadowed success -that inspired even himself, as he asked: - -"Will she be ready for me?" - -For answer she nestled in his arms, and no wind was needed to tear the -veil aside that his lips might claim love's pledge from hers. - -"Shall I have to wait long?" she said. - -"No, perhaps a month; but I hope it will be less even than that." - -"Oh that Allah would make it less!" she answered. - -A long time they lingered in the rose-scented shadows, and then Irar, -with her kiss of hope and prayer warm on his lips, strode rapidly back -to his home. - -Arrived there, he rubbed his body thoroughly with oil to make it -mobile and supple, and then sought the slumber that would give him -strength for his search. - -With the first glinting of dawn he arose, and having partaken of a -plain repast, sat down to consider how he should act did he find the -pearl. - -Should he give the gem to the inspector of the fisheries? - -No, for the man was not friendly to him, and might prove false. - -The better way would be for himself to carry it to the sultan, and as -he laid it at the feet of his royal master, claim the reward that had -been offered. - -This plan satisfied him, and then another thought arose: How should he -hide it from the keen eyes of the watchful guards, whose duty it was -to see that no gem was carried away, and who stood ready to search -each diver as he appeared above the water? - -This was a more difficult problem to settle than was that concerning -the way in which the gem should be conveyed to the sultan; and the sun -had risen far above the mountains lying eastward from the city before -he could devise a plan that seemed to meet his needs. - -At last a smile of satisfaction took the place of the perplexed look -that had pervaded his face, and rising, he hastened to the bay. - -The divers were already at work, and one or two had finished their -labor and were going away, when Irar sprang into his skiff and was -rowed out to the deeper water, where the pearls lay hidden. He was not -so easy to please as he had previously been, but scanned the water -curiously, directing the boatmen to pull in many different directions, -while he stood in the bow, watching. - -Suddenly some mysterious prompting whispered, "Now!"--and without a -moment's hesitation he sprang from the skiff and sank swiftly down to -the indistinct depths below. - -Merciful Allah--did he see aright? - -Yes, there lay the pearl he sought, perfect, brilliant, a gem that -royalty itself could not outshine. - -To grasp it and thrust it into his mouth, yes, and to swallow it, was -but an instant's work; and then he quickly found another gem, and with -it sped upward to the surface. - -A half-hour had not passed, and now he was hastening back to the city, -buoyant, elate, his heart beating with swift throbs of joy. - -He did not seek his home, but turning down a narrow and unfrequented -street sought a dark, closely-curtained house, and knocking, was -silently admitted by a sallow-hued man, whose broad brow and gleaming -eyes, set deep under shaggy brows, told of a strange and subtle power -that only he could wield. - -"Well, friend Irar," he said, when he had led the young man to a dim -room at the back of the house, "can I do aught for you to-day?" - -"You can. Listen." And Irar told, as briefly as he could, of his love, -the sultan's promise, and his success. - -This done, he went on. - -"That you are skilled in the arts of surgery is well known. If the -pearl stays in my stomach it will be ruined. For an act that saved -your life, which I was glad to do, help me now." - -The man thought for a moment, and then said: - -"I will, but you will be sick for a week, and perhaps for a longer -time. What must be done in this case?" - -"Your word will be enough to excuse me from work. Will you not go to -the vizier and make the excuse I need?" - -"Yes; and now, was the gem hard to swallow?" - -"It was." - -"Sit quiet here, I shall soon be ready." - -Swiftly the man prepared two mixtures and brought out some thin knives -and other curious instruments. These and some bandages he placed on a -small table that he drew near to a slab standing in the middle of the -apartment. - -"Lie down here," he said, and Irar obeyed. - -"If you feel the pearl forced up into your throat, do not struggle, -but grasp the sides of the slab, and keep as quiet as you can: I will -see that no harm comes to you." - -"I will do as you say." - -"Now drink this;" and he handed Irar one of the potions he had -prepared. - -No sooner had Irar swallowed this than he grew faint and chill; and -then a horrible sickness filled him, and with violent retchings he -sought to relieve the oppression in his stomach. The man stood by, a -knife in his grasp, and just as Irar felt a lump stick in his throat a -hand was clasped tightly below it, and it was forced upward. Then a -swift movement of gleaming steel followed; and just as the pressure on -his lungs grew to a suffocating intensity, the lump causing this was -ejected from his throat, and stinging pain told of rapid punctures, -through which a thread was quickly drawn. - -Then a burning liquid was applied to his throat, and a bandage wound -about it, after which he was carried to a couch and told to remain -quiet. - -Then the man picked up the pearl and, washing it, held it up to the -light. - -"A right royal gem," he cried, his eyes gleaming. "Here, take it, or I -shall begin to envy you your prize;" and he thrust the pearl fiercely -into Irar's hand, going immediately from the apartment. - -In an hour he returned, holding a paper that bore the seal of the -vizier. - -"You are excused for a month," he said, "and before that time you will -be well: in fact, you will be able to move to your own house in two -weeks. The one thing needful is that you keep your neck quiet." - -It was not hard for Irar to do this, for did he not know that love and -freedom were both waiting for him? The days passed swiftly, for dreams -of a happy future filled both waking and sleeping hours, and the -contentment that pervaded his existence made his recovery rapid. - -At the end of a week the bandages were removed, and the surgeon looked -in surprise at the nearly healed cut. - -"This is better--much better than I hoped for," he said. "A week more -of quiet, and you will be all right." - -He bathed the wound with a lotion, replaced the bandages, and then -wandered restlessly about the room. This was but a repetition of his -course ever since Irar had come to him, and caused his guest no -uneasiness. - -After a time he grew quiet, and going to the window, seemed to be -pondering some plan. Then his face lightened, and coming back to -Irar's couch he said: - -"I will make a cooling drink for you, and then go out." And he left -the room, soon returning with the draught, which he held out to his -patient, who took it and drained the liquor to the dregs. - -Again the surgeon wandered about the room in a restless way, furtively -watching Irar, who soon felt a delicious languor stealing over his -senses. - -"Let me see your pearl once more," said the surgeon, and Irar -languidly handed it to him. - -Did he dream it?--or did he see the surgeon clutch it fiercely, then -thrust it hurriedly into his mouth and with a gleam of savage triumph -hastily swallow it? - -There was no certainty of this when he awoke, but a strange sensation -of indistinctness in his mind, which gradually cleared as his eyes -grew accustomed to the light. But he could not rid himself of the -thought, and he thrust his hand under the covering of the couch where -he had kept the pearl, and started up with a cry of horror. - -The pearl was gone! - -A man came running in, alarmed by his cry; and of him Irar demanded, -in a voice choked and hoarse with emotion: - -"Your master, quick!--where is he?" - -"I have not seen him for a week." - -"A week? And I?" - -"You have been asleep. My master said you would not wake before a week -had passed, and that he would return ere your slumber was broken." - -It was true, then, this horror that he had thought a dream; and he -buried his face in his hands that the servant might not see his -emotion. In a little time he grew calm, and raising his head, he said: - -"Has your master returned?" - -"No." - -He put up his hand, and felt his throat--the bandage was gone. To his -questioning look, the man said: - -"The master ordered it. It was taken off the third day after he went -away, and you can eat if you desire to." - -"I will. Bring me a light repast." - -In a little time he was eating the food brought, and calling for his -clothes he put them on and tried to walk. At first his steps were -unsteady, but they quickly grew firm. Finding that the pouch -containing his knife and purse was in its place, he went forth. But -instead of seeking his own home, or the lane that had so often been -the goal of his wanderings, he turned southward, and leaving the city -was soon pacing the sands leading towards the rocks that he had so -frequently explored. - -Soon he reached them, and began his usual clambering among them, going -on and on, but keeping near the sea. At times his hand would explore -the pouch where his knife was, and once he drew it forth, and his eyes -gleamed with satisfaction as his finger tested the keenness of its -blade. - -His glance sought every shadowy hollow, and twice he turned into -fissures that seemed to lead to a deeper gloom. But he returned and -kept on, reaching at last a bold crag, beneath which a gully of the -sea ran in--so narrow that he could almost step across it. - -The garrulous call of a gull drew his attention to a dark object that -rose and fell with the swelling and sinking of the tide, close to a -little square of sand at the head of this opening. It had a strangely -human look, and he made his way down to it. Taking off his sandals, he -gathered his garments up above the wash of the waves, and soon had -grasped the floating clothes that streamed out from the central mass. - -The strain caused this to turn over, and showed him the white and -livid face of the very man who had played him false. - -For a moment a savage joy filled his soul, and then his manhood -exerted its sway, and pity came; and as the softer feeling caused a -mist to gather in his eyes, he noticed that there was a large, -unnatural lump protruding from the dead man's throat. - -Hastily drawing the body on the sands, he drew forth his knife, and -carefully cut the flesh about this. - -A cry of joy came, as his pearl dropped from the slit and lay, clear -and shining, on the sand. - -Hastily secreting it, his better thought prompted him to bury the man -whose avarice had come so near wrecking his life, and finding an oar -blade on the sand, he dug a grave close to the rock, and dragged the -body to this. - -A small tablet fell from the clothing as he was doing this, and he -picked it up and put it in his pouch. Then he covered the body, and -heaped the sand high above it. - -Resting for a little time, he clambered back to the top of the cliff -and quickly returned to the city, hastening to the vizier's palace. - -His request to have audience with the sultan was immediately granted, -and the vizier being about to report to his royal master, Irar was -told to accompany him. - -Arrived at the palace, the vizier quickly made Irar's wish known. - -"The slave I gave your highness for a pearl-fisher desires to speak -with you." - -"Let him speak, for he has ever done his work well," said the sultan. - -Bowing his head low, Irar held out his hand, closed over the pearl. - -"Your highness promised freedom and gold to the slave who should bring -you the finest pearl on earth; will this one win the gift?" And he -unclasped his hand and showed the peerless gem it had hidden. - -With a cry of delight, the sultan said: - -"Yes, you are free, and the golden pieces shall be paid you when you -wish them--now, if it is your choice. More, I appoint you the -inspector of my pearl fisheries. Hand me the gem, and do you see our -wishes fulfilled." - -The last commands were addressed to the vizier, who took the pearl and -laid it in the sultan's hand. Irar bowed low, and withdrew to the -outer court by the palace gate. Here he was soon joined by the vizier, -who gave him the certificate of his freedom, and the royal decree -announcing his appointment to the inspectorship. - -He also gave Irar some costly jewels, saying: - -"You have done well. The sultan is overjoyed at this rare good -fortune, for the pearl is much larger than that of the Sultan of -Coromandel. He has remembered that I gave you to him, and so I share -my gain with you." - -Irar thanked him, and taking the papers, asked permission to be absent -from duty for a time. - -"You are free, and can do what you please, and you need not assume -your new duties for a week." - -Thanking him, Irar hastened away. It was growing late, but the sun -still shone in the lane when he turned down its shadowy way. The gate -was quickly reached; but before he came to it, it was flung open, and -the light and gladness of his life shone on him. - -As he clasped her in his arms, she murmured: - -"I have watched for you every day; but now I shall have no more -watching or waiting." - -"No, my darling, you will not. Lead me to your father: I would speak -with him." - -It took but a short time for Irar to secure the consent that he -sought. His royal appointment was a powerful factor in the argument, -and he returned to his home a happy man. - -As he was removing his garments before retiring, the tablet that he -had found on the surgeon's body fell to the floor. Picking it up, he -opened it, and saw some partly obliterated writing. Closely scanning -this, he read the following: - -"I have the pearl: it is mine. But since I have swallowed it I have -become possessed with the thought that there is another like it--yes, -larger and more brilliant--waiting my seeking; and to-night I shall go -out to the fisheries and find it. I shall go alone, in a skiff that I -have hired; and to-morrow I shall have two pearls, like which the -world has no more." - -"The fool!--he could not swim," said Irar, "for I rescued him from the -sea when he tried to. Well, he wrought his own punishment, and may -Allah forgive him as I do." And he sought his couch. - -One week after this occurred Irar carried to the larger home that was -allowed him as inspector of the pearl fisheries the sweetest and -fairest bride in all the wide Persian realms, a bride more pure and -lovely than the pearl that had given him his freedom and crowned his -love with triumph. - - THOS. S. COLLIER. - - - - -_THE FIRST REGIMENTS OF U. S. COLORED TROOPS_ - -AND HOW THEY WERE RAISED. - - -May 22, 1863, a general order, No. 143, establishing a bureau "for the -organization of colored troops," and providing for the detail of three -field officers as Inspectors of these troops and for the creation of a -board to examine applicants was issued from the War Department. - -Although some colored men had been enlisted in Louisville and, under -the authority of General Hunter, in South Carolina, the above order -was the first formal recognition of this class of troops by the -Government. - -The Inspectors were to supervise at such points as might be indicated -by the War Department "in the Northern and Western States," but -recruiting stations and depots were to be established by the -Adjutant-general as circumstances should require: the first clause -expressing the conservatism of President Lincoln, and the second -affording a wider range for the energies of Secretary Stanton. - -The first Inspector detailed was Colonel William Birney, of the 4th -New Jersey Volunteers. He was an Alabamian by birth, the son of James -G. Birney, who had been the Presidential candidate of the Liberty -party in 1840 and 1844. He had enlisted as a private and been elected -Captain in the 1st New Jersey, had served through the different -regimental grades, and had just been nominated to the Senate as -Brigadier-general. At the beginning of the war he predicted to his -friends, Secretary Chase and Henry Wilson (chairman of the Senate -Committee on military affairs), the exigency for calling colored -troops into the service, and had offered, in that event, to aid in -organizing them without regard to his grade in the white troops. Hence -his detail after more than two years' waiting. - -Reporting at Washington in the first days of June for his new duty, -Colonel Birney was kindly received by the Secretary of War, but found -that neither he nor Mr. Lincoln had marked out any definite line of -action or had any orders ready to give him. Day after day his anxious -inquiries were met by the same answer: - -"Wait a little longer; we are not ready yet." - -Finally, about the 10th of June, weary with oscillating between the -Ebbitt House and the War Department, the Colonel asked leave of Mr. -Stanton to organize a colored regiment at Washington. Written orders -were refused, but oral permission to do what he could was granted him. -He went to work at once, and before the 18th of June he had enlisted, -uniformed, armed, and equipped four hundred men, gathered from -Washington, Georgetown, Alexandria, and the country beyond. They were -of course very raw material, but their habits of obedience and -temperance were equivalent to the usual quickness and independence of -the white troops. They were proud of their new position and -enthusiastic in learning the manual of arms, even rising at four -o'clock in the morning to begin their drill, which they practised -incessantly through the day. The brightest among them were made -sergeants and corporals, while young officers from the white regiments -around Washington were detailed to serve as captains and lieutenants. - -By the end of the month the 1st U. S. Colored Regiment was full, and -Colonel Birney marched it down the avenue, past the White House to the -Capitol, and back; affording a rare spectacle to the crowds that -followed it, and one which the old inhabitants of the city certainly -had never expected to see. But there they were, ten companies of -black, brown, and yellow men, ex-slaves, dressed in the uniform of the -United States, armed and equipped like white soldiers, and pledged to -stand by the Government in its struggle with their former masters. -They made a fine appearance, marching quite as well as white soldiers, -and calling forth many compliments for themselves and their officers. - -Still no orders came from the War Department, and it was some time -before Colonel Birney understood the cause of the delay. Recruiting -for colored troops had been begun in Philadelphia and Boston, but -progressed slowly; and at Washington men were not obtained in any -great numbers from the resident free people of color, but were mostly -fugitive slaves from Maryland and Virginia. Colonel Birney represented -to Mr. Stanton the advantages of recruiting, in the States named, and -the superiority as soldiers of the men raised on farms to those -gathered in the alleys and slums of northern cities. - -The Secretary listened attentively, and after reflecting a few -moments, said: - -"Go over to the White House and have a talk with the President. Don't -say that I sent you. We will talk the matter over afterwards." - -The Colonel was promptly admitted to Mr. Lincoln's presence, and a -complimentary remark of the President on the excellent appearance made -by the colored regiment opened the way for his visitor to give his -views about recruiting from the Maryland farms. - -"What!" exclaimed Mr. Lincoln; "you surely do not mean that we should -take the slaves?" - -"Mr. President," replied the Colonel, "a man's allegiance to his -Government is not subordinate to claims of private parties upon him. -If he is willing to fight for his country he should be allowed to do -it." - -"But my pledge!" said Mr. Lincoln. "You forget my pledge to the loyal -slave States, in my proclamation of emancipation." - -Here, then, was the point of difference between Mr. Stanton and the -President. The former was willing to recruit colored troops in the -loyal slave States, and the latter was opposed to it. - -Of course the subject was dropped. - -On the 28th of June Col. Birney was ordered to Norfolk to recruit -slaves of rebels, but he had scarcely begun when another order brought -him back to Washington. - -Arriving about the 4th of July, Mr. Stanton showed him a letter from -General Schenck, commanding the district of Maryland, stating that -large numbers of free men of color had been gathered at Baltimore to -work on the fortifications, and that a competent officer, if sent at -once, might get a great many recruits among them. In answer to the -Secretary's question of what he thought of this, Colonel Birney -answered: - -"I can organize several regiments in Baltimore, but probably not from -the class mentioned by General Schenck. Free colored men will not -fight to help the Government maintain slavery in Maryland; and that is -the President's pledge. But the slaves will enlist, for they will get -their freedom by it. If you send me to Maryland it must be with the -knowledge that I will never recognize one man's right of property in -another. I believe, with the Vermont justice, that the only proof of -such a right is a deed signed and sealed by the Creator." - -Mr. Stanton laughed. "Well," he said, "whatever you do, remember you -do it on your own responsibility." This was repeated and emphasized. - -The Colonel accepted the terms, asking the favor, however, that Mr. -Stanton would do what he could for him in the event of the President's -displeasure. This was cheerfully promised, and the necessary orders -were then made out. A letter also was written to General Schenck -directing him to recognize Colonel Birney as in charge of the -recruiting of colored troops in Maryland, and to have his requisitions -honored by the ordinance, commissary, and quartermaster officers. -That is, the Colonel was to have _carte blanche_ for his special -business. - -The large barracks near Druid Hill Park having been assigned for his -use by General Schenck, who named them "Birney Barracks," the Colonel -telegraphed for the 1st Regiment. As the "Plug Uglies" before the war, -and the attacks made on the first northern volunteers by the Baltimore -populace, had given that city the reputation of being peopled chiefly -by roughs and rebels, it was thought best to have a sufficient force -there to overawe the violent. - -The regiment, under command of Colonel Holman, arrived at night -without accident. It was put into good condition, and a few days -later, with Colonel Birney riding at its head, was marched, with -music, flying colors, and fixed bayonets, through the principal -streets of the city, causing immense excitement and some apprehension -among all classes. Doors and blinds were hastily closed, and the -police gathered in force to be ready to repress disorders. But none -occurred. One man was arrested for hurrahing for Jeff Davis; but this, -scarcely worth noticing, was the only incident that indicated rebel -sentiment. - -From that date the populace accepted the situation, and it was quite -safe for recruiting squads of colored soldiers to march through every -quarter of the city. - -It was worth going some distance to see the sergeant selected to -command these squads march his men out. Black as a coal, his grand, -martial air and proud assumption of authority were most impressive, -while his stern, ringing voice made itself heard all over the drill -ground. No doubt his pompous manner, aided by his uniform, had much to -do in bringing in recruits. - -The business of recruiting was, however, one of peculiar danger in -other places. About this time a Lieutenant who had been left at -Norfolk by Colonel Birney was foully murdered. A little later another -was shot down near Benedict, and a recruiting agent was mobbed and -killed in Frederick County. On two occasions armed men lay in ambush -for the purpose of shooting Colonel Birney, but he was forewarned. - -It very soon became evident that more energetic means must be adopted -for filling up regiments. Accordingly, a requisition was made for a -small steamboat for the purpose of recruiting along the eastern shore -of Maryland. Before, however, completing his arrangements to do this, -Colonel Birney's attention was called to another matter, the result -of which did not tend to make him more popular with Maryland -slave-owners. - -Calling at General Schenck's office, one morning, a letter was handed -him to read by Adjutant-general Piatt, which I here copy _verbatim et -literatim_. It was addressed to President Lincoln and dated: - - - "BALTIMORE, June 15, 1863. - - "HON. PRESIDENT ABRAHAM LICCLN. _Sir_: i would like to inquire - from you sir that we slaves are entitle to Be confine In - prison By our masters or not sir. We have bin In Prison for - two years and a half and some are Bin in here for seventeen - months and so our masters are Rible General A. B. Steward and - are now in the Rible Army sir and put us slaves here Before He - went into the Rible Army and we are Bin here Ever sence and we - are waitin to Be inlisted in the army or navy sir to fite for - the stars and stripes there is about 20 of slaves in the Balto - city jail our masters says that they are going to keep we - slaves in Prison untill the war is over or soon as he can get - a chance to send us slaves Down South to the Rebilious and we - all would like to have our Liberty sir and i sir i wish you - would do something For we Poor Slaves we have no shoes or - clothing to put Put on only what we Beg from the soldiers and - citizens that comes to the Prison i would like to have my - liberty. Direct your letter to Captain James warden in the - city jail then he will give the Slaves their Libberty from - your humble Servant." - -No name was signed to this document, probably from prudential reasons. -The name of the warden was, however, repeated, as though to emphasize -the address. - -Such an appeal could not but make a profound impression on Colonel -Birney. He caused some inquiries to be made among the colored people, -and learned that there were in the city at least three slave-pens in -which men, women, and children had been confined for safekeeping since -the beginning of the war. Thirty cents a head per day was the charge -for keeping them, and they were to remain in confinement until the -close of hostilities. - -Col. Birney decided that no time should be lost in attending to this -business. He called to see General Schenck about it, but the General -had gone to Washington. Colonel Piatt was in the office, however, and -unhesitatingly gave the required permit to open the jails. - -Taking with him a few soldiers, Colonel Birney visited, one after the -other, the dreadful pens where nearly one hundred human beings were -found in a condition of misery almost incredible to the present -generation. Nearly all the men and many of the women were chained in -some manner or other. One aged man wore an iron collar to which a -chain was fastened attached to an iron band around one ankle, and so -short that it was with difficulty a step could be taken. Another, -almost as old, was chained in a similar way from an iron belt to both -ankles. Some were handcuffed and some had only their ankles chained -together. The only place for fresh air or exercise was a small -court-yard inclosed by high brick walls which, being whitewashed, had -seriously affected the eyes of all the prisoners. Only a few of them -could see well at night, and some were almost totally blind. A few -afterwards recovered, but several lost their sight completely. In this -condition they had been kept for two years or more. - -A blacksmith was sent for, and in a few minutes every chain was broken -and the captives were told that they were free. The younger ones -received the announcement with shouts and laughter, and ran eagerly to -gather up all their little belongings and make themselves as tidy as -possible before leaving the prisons. Others were incredulous and timid -about accepting the boon offered to them, while the older ones, more -deeply imbued with the religious spirit, raised streaming eyes to -heaven and thanked the Lord that their deliverance had come at last. - -They were all marched to the barracks and examined by the surgeons. A -few only were found available as soldiers. The others were sent to the -Quartermaster's Department in Washington and disposed of there. The -expressions of gratitude from those who remained with us were most -fervent, but often a little amusing. Colonel Birney was spoken of -among them as a man sent by the Lord, a second Moses come to deliver -and lead His oppressed people. He was prayed for in their evening -prayer-meetings, and the Lord implored to be with him and "purtect him -always, on de right hand and on de left, in de front and in de rar;" -and one earnest old man was heard to pray: "Eben as he hab done it -unto de least ob dese, my chillun, say de Lord, he hab done it unto -me, and we prays dat de Lord will recognize dat fact and bless him -accordin'." - -The opening of the slave pens, and the revelations concerning the -treatment of the prisoners confined there, caused, as may well be -supposed, a great sensation. Owners of slaves began to discuss -measures to protect themselves from Colonel Birney's operations. -Reverdy Johnson was appealed to and secured as their representative, -and complaints were forwarded to Washington. That these were not -noticed at that time was due, in a great measure, to the influence of -the Hon. Winter Davis, then member of Congress, and of Judge Hugh L. -Bond, between whom and Colonel Birney a warm friendship existed as -well as entire unanimity of opinion on the colored soldier question. - -The Colonel now felt free to carry out the plans he had matured, of -the success of which he had not the slightest doubt. Taking with him a -few of his most reliable officers, he embarked on the steamer that had -been furnished him and started on his first voyage of discovery. He -was absent a little over a week, and was so much encouraged by what he -heard and saw that no delay was made in despatching the boat again, -this time in command of one of the lieutenant-colonels. - -And now all along the eastern and western shores the news flew that -able-bodied men would be received as soldiers, transported to a place -of safety, and no questions asked. On it went like the unseen blaze -beneath the pine brush, darting out now here, now there, still -travelling swiftly and silently until it reached the remotest -districts of the State, and the black population knew that its -emancipation was in its own hands. Soon one boat was not enough to -bring away all who were willing to serve in the Union army. A second -boat and then a third were added to the service, and recruiting -stations were opened in various parts of the State. To these flocked -the slaves, fugitives from both rebel and loyal masters, many of them -at the risk of their lives bringing their families with them, walking -often forty and fifty miles to reach the station. Here they were -protected until the boats came along which carried them to Baltimore. -A crowd always gathered to see them land, and followed as--often two -and three hundred together--they were marched in double file through -the streets to the barracks. - -It was certainly a grotesque but pathetic spectacle, that of these -people just escaped from bondage, all ragged, many of them with scarce -tatters enough for decency, barefooted and bareheaded, or with -handkerchiefs around their heads, dirty and forlorn, each one carrying -a little bundle containing his entire earthly possessions. - -Immediately upon their arrival at the barracks the men were examined, -the able-bodied ones enlisted, the rest otherwise disposed of. - -Before the 1st of August the 2d and 4th regiments were complete, the -7th and 8th more than half full, and the 9th was begun.[1] - -It was surprising how many men had to be rejected. Sometimes out of -a hundred recruits fifty would be found physically unfit for service. -But those accepted were, as a rule, fine, hearty fellows. - -The preliminary process to becoming a soldier was not always relished. -The carbolic soap bath in the river, with the after clipping and -shaving and shampooing, being in many cases a first experience, was -not submitted to in every instance without grumbling. A few even -rebelled, positively refusing to go into the water. A facetious -sergeant, detailed to supervise the scrubbing, originated an argument -which proved most effective. - -"Look at you now," he was heard to say, "you ignorant nigger! You -don't know nothin'. Don't you see your ole close a burnin' up on de -sho', and don't you know when you gits inter dat ribber and scrubs wid -de guvment soap you washes all de slavery out ob you? Go 'long wid -you!" - -And the subject, aided by a touch of the sergeant's foot, would make -no further resistance. - -But when, the bath and barbering over, comfortable under-clothing was -given them and they were then arrayed in bright new uniforms and a -glittering musket was put into their hands, surely Solomon in all his -glory never experienced the glow of satisfaction that warmed the -hearts of these ex-slaves as they viewed each other, and each man knew -that he looked just like his fellows. For the first time in their -lives they were men, not "boys,"--not chattels to be disposed of at -the will of a master, but owning themselves, treated with respect, and -considered worthy to take part with white men in defending the Union. -In many of them the almost immediate change in look and bearing from -cringing humility or unmeaning levity to earnest willingness and -self-confidence was strikingly apparent; in others the change came -gradually, as though time were needed to make them realize the -revolution that had taken place. But it was surprising how quickly the -vast majority learned well what was required of them, and how few -rascals there were. Intemperance and profanity were exceedingly rare -among them, and the guard-house opened its doors to a much less number -than was usual in white regiments. - -Of course there was general dissatisfaction among the abandoned -masters and mistresses, many of whom were left without a single -field-hand or house-servant. Scarcely a day passed without bringing -one or two of these owners or their agents to inquire for some Sam or -Tom or Dick. They were always invited up to headquarters to present -their claims, and the records were examined for their satisfaction. -If the names of their slaves were among the enlisted men, the -ex-owners were required to produce a certificate of loyalty from the -provost marshal of their district; and, if this was satisfactory, they -were referred to the Board of Claims, to be organized in Baltimore for -the purpose of deciding upon such cases. If they could show no proper -certificate, they were summarily dismissed. Very often a man would -change his name when he enlisted, thus making it very difficult for -his master to trace him, besides causing confusion and a good deal of -merriment among the young officers, as those who took new names -invariably forgot them. - -"Andy Smith!" the sergeant would cry at roll-call; but no Andy Smith -would answer until, the name having been repeated several times, some -comrade would nudge the fellow who had assumed it, saying: - -"You is Andy Smith; don't you 'member you is?" - -And then there would be a start and an exclamation of: - -"So I is--I done forgot!" followed by a loud "Here!" - -Amusing and sometimes pathetic scenes between masters and servants -were of frequent occurrence. It was surprising in how short a time a -poor, crying, slovenly slave became a bright, neat, self-asserting -man. - -One morning a tall, ungainly fellow, who had tramped several days to -get to us, was brought to headquarters. He looked as though he had -been driven and hunted all his life; but he was strongly built, and -his ebony countenance, though showing a good deal of anxiety, -expressed fearlessness and resolution. The officer who accompanied him -reported him sound in every way except that he stuttered badly. Before -the Colonel could speak to him, the fellow managed, with much -difficulty, to get out an earnest request that he should not be -"'jected." - -"But you could not give the countersign if challenged," said the -colonel. - -"Jes try me, please, mars Colonel," the poor man stuttered. He was -tried with the regular drill orders, and the proof of the man's pluck -was that, though surrounded by a crowd that laughed at his ridiculous -efforts, he made an heroic stagger at every order, and with a certain -air of dignity that had its effect. At any rate, the Colonel, pleased -with his manly bearing, told him that if he would come up the next -morning and give those orders without stuttering he should be mustered -into the service. Whether what his comrades asserted, that he spent -the night practising in the grove back of the barracks, was true or -not, it is a fact that the next morning he appeared bright and cheery, -and in a voice that resounded over the campus he repeated every order -promptly and intelligibly. He was accepted and a few days afterwards -put on guard at the foot of the hill. As he was quietly pacing up and -down his beat, a man rode up, sprang to the ground, and saying, "Look -after my horse, fellow," started to walk up the hill. He failed to -recognize in the neat, fine-looking soldier whom he had addressed his -runaway slave. But the slave knew his late master, and with the sense -of security inspired by his uniform and his loaded musket, he stepped -forward. He could now say "Halt!" without stuttering, and he said it -in a very decided tone. And then the master, looking sharply at him, -exclaimed with an oath: - -"Sam, you stuttering idiot! what are you doing here?" - -"Defendin' de country, mas--sa," Sam stuttered. - -His master burst out laughing, and with another oath ordered Sam to -stand aside and let him pass, as he had come to take his man back -home, and intended to do it. But Sam was not alarmed. He lowered his -musket significantly, and managed to say: - -"I aint nobody's slave no more, massa. I'se under the orders of de -United States Guvement, and dem orders is to let nobody parss here -what can't gib de countersign. Ef you kin do dat, you kin parss: ef -not--not!" - -The master raved and stormed in vain. Sam stood firm, until the -officer of the day who, unobserved, had witnessed the scene from a -clump of trees, thought best to interfere. He escorted the irate -Marylander to the Colonel's office, but it is hardly necessary to say -he was obliged to return home alone, as he came.[2] - -A very similar incident occurred shortly afterwards, which I believe -found its way into the papers: but it will bear repetition. - -A new recruit, feeling to an exaggerated extent the dignity and the -importance with which his uniform invested him, and realizing also, -perhaps, the solemn obligations of his oath, was approached while on -guard by his former master, and, with the usual oaths, ordered to get -out of the way. This the sentinel declined to do, and the master began -to abuse him for "a coward," "a black scoundrel," "a sneaking thief," -etc., etc., all of which the soldier bore unmoved. But when the white -man, still more infuriated by this indifference, damned the Union -Army and even the uniform the black man wore, the latter became -excited, and facing his angry master, said, in a very forcible manner: - -"Massa, you kin 'buse dis nigger as a nigger as much as you please: -dat don't hurt nobody. But when you damn dese buttons, you damns de -goviment, sar, and dat am treason, and I'se pledged to stop it. Now -scoot!" - -And he charged on the astonished master, driving him down the slope -and into the road, and kept his musket levelled at him until he saw -him get on a street-car and ride away. - -After a time, curiosity brought many people from the city every -afternoon to see the troops drill, and before the end of the summer it -became the fashionable thing for ladies and gentlemen driving out to -stop below the hill on which the barracks stood and remain during the -whole parade. Many even descended from their carriages and came up the -slope to get a better view. As to the colored population, the -barracks, and all that took place there, were full of interest for -them. It seemed as though each one felt that he or she gained -something in importance by belonging to a class that was attracting so -much attention. Those especially who had sons or brothers among the -troops rose at once in their own estimation and in their social scale. -I could cite a number of amusing illustrations of this vainglorious -sentiment, but one will suffice. - -The respectable matron who did my washing came to me one morning to -say that she would be obliged to give up my patronage, as her son had -just enlisted and she could not think of disgracing him by continuing -her business. Remonstrance was in vain; she retired from the suds, and -lived on her importance and, presumably, on her son's pay. - -One afternoon in the early fall two ladies came to headquarters. They -were dressed in fashionable mourning, were gentle of speech and -manner, and evidently belonged to the best society. They stated that -they owned a large farm in Calvert County, had been visiting in -Philadelphia, and had just learned that two "valuable boys" belonging -to them had run away and enlisted in Baltimore. The "boys" had been -brought up in the family, had always been kindly treated, were -perfectly contented, and must have been worked upon in some subtle -manner to have been induced to leave. They felt sure that if they -could see them they could persuade them to return, as they could not -bear the thought of the hardships the "boys" must undergo in army -life. - -The Colonel looked over the roll and found the names of the "boys," -who had enlisted two weeks before. He informed the ladies that, even -if willing, these soldiers could not be remanded to slavery; but if -they would like to see them, he would send for them. The ladies -requested that this should be done, and an orderly was dispatched to -bring the fugitives. - -Few worse specimens, as regarded raggedness and general evidences of -hard usage, than these two men had come up from the western shore. -When they now made their appearance in the office, tall, good-looking -fellows, in their clean uniforms and new shoes, and their countenances -beaming with satisfaction, it was no wonder that their mistresses did -not at first recognize them, and were embarrassed in addressing them. -A short conversation ensued, during which the men, though perfectly -respectful, let the ladies understand that they were neither ashamed -nor sorry for having left the old home. As the visitors, evidently -much chagrined, at last arose to go, one of them, extending her hand -to the younger one, said: - -"Well, John, good-bye; I am going home to-morrow. What shall I tell -the people for you?" - -"Give 'em my love, marm," said John, "an' tell em I's mighty glad I's -here, an' I wish dey was all here, too." - -The other lady had taken out her pocket-book, and now said to the -other: - -"And you, Will, what shall I say for you?" - -"Tell 'em all, marm," he earnestly replied, "dat de Lord hab broke my -yoke an' made me free. Tell em I'se happier dan I eber 'spected to be -in dis world--an' I blesses 'em all." - -"Very well," she said coldly, and dropped something into his hand. -Both ladies bowed and departed. - -The man Will stood looking reflectively at what his mistress had given -him. As the door closed on her, he turned to the Colonel and, showing -a silver quarter, said: - -"I'se worked fur dat woman mor'n twenty years, an' dis is de fust bit -ob money she eber gib me!" - -Towards the last of September Secretary Chase, being in Baltimore, was -invited by Judge Bond to drive out to the barracks and witness the -parade of the colored troops. His appearance was a pleasant surprise -to Colonel Birney, who, up to that time, had failed to elicit from him -any expression of interest in his work; though, on account of old -friendship and political sympathies, the Secretary was the first -person from whom the Colonel had expected support. But Mr. Chase had -not as yet gone beyond the President in his views concerning the -enlistment of slaves. He, however, expressed himself greatly pleased -as well as surprised at the fine display the troops made, and the next -week he repeated his visit, accompanied by Secretary Stanton. - -As it happened, one of the recruiting boats arrived that very day, -bringing over two hundred of the usual miserable crowd. Instead of -having the men among them inspected at once, the Colonel saved them -for his afternoon programme. - -The expected visit of the distinguished men became known in the city, -and long before the time for parade the road in front of the barracks -was blocked with open carriages filled with ladies and gentlemen. The -two secretaries, in a landau, were so placed that they had an -uninterrupted view of everything. - -The bugle sounded and the different companies, with bayonets and every -accoutrement glistening, marched in splendid order to their respective -positions. As the last company wheeled into line, and while the -spectators were enthusiastically expressing their admiration of its -soldierly bearing, the raw recruits who had arrived in the morning -filed up and, each one grasping his little bundle, were placed in line -with the others. Their tattered garments, shoeless feet, and -disreputable appearance generally, afforded a striking and painful -contrast to their uniformed brethren. The suggestiveness of the -spectacle could not but strike every beholder. Mr. Chase declared it -was the most impressive sight he had ever witnessed. Mr. Stanton -warmly congratulated Colonel Birney, and expressed his satisfaction -and his thanks that so much had been accomplished without embarrassing -him. - -The vigor with which recruiting had been pushed had taken the Maryland -slave-holders by surprise. For some weeks they made no appeal to the -government. Then, recovering their self-possession, they set to work -to procure a revocation of Colonel Birney's authority. - -Their first applications were made singly or by delegations to General -Schenck or, in his absence, to his Adjutant-general, Donn Piatt, both -of whom had steadily and cordially given their official aid and -support to Colonel Birney's operations, though, from the nature of his -orders, he was not subject to their command. The General, with quiet -dignity, referred the envoys to Secretary Stanton, but held out no -hope of change; but the adjutant gave them deep offence by his sturdy -patriotism, expressed with the wit and humor for which he has always -been celebrated. - -Secretary Stanton was deaf to remonstrances. But it was not long -before Reverdy Johnson and Governor Swann discovered that the -President was not aware of the enlistment of slaves. Petitions, -letters of complaint, and charges against Colonel Birney were now -poured in on Mr. Lincoln. Finally, Reverdy Johnson and the Governor, -at the head of a Maryland delegation of slave-holders, called on him -and presented the grievance with all the eloquence they could command. - -The President was much disturbed, and supposing General Schenck to be -the responsible party, wrote to him intimating a purpose to disavow -his acts. Thereupon the General went to Washington and, explaining his -position in the matter, protested against censure or disavowal, and -tendered his resignation as commandant in Maryland if such a step -against him was intended. Mr. Lincoln listened patiently. Then, after -a short pause, he said: - -"Schenck, do you know what a _galled prairie_ is?" - -The general knew every kind of prairie except that. - -"The galled prairie," resumed Mr. Lincoln, "lies on the slope back -from the narrow river bottoms, and is so called because the waters -from higher levels cut gulches in it. But it is rich land. On it grow -oak trees of a peculiar species. Their wood is almost as hard as iron, -and their roots grow deep down. You can't cut them or dig them up. -Now, general, how do you suppose the farmers treat them?" - -This was a poser. - -"Well," said Mr. Lincoln, "they just let them alone and plough around -them." - -With this the President arose and shook hands, and General Schenck -returned to Baltimore, pondering over the parable of the "galled -prairies." - -Nothing further was said about censure, but Mr. Lincoln was troubled -on the score of his "pledge," and did not let the matter drop. - -Colonel Birney was very busy one day issuing the final orders for -despatching three boats to a point where, from information received, -several hundred good recruits were waiting. He was interrupted by a -telegram direct from the White House, as follows: - - "How many slaves have you enlisted?" - - (Signed) "ABRAHAM LINCOLN." - -The answer reached the President while Governor Swann and his friends -were making another call on him. - -"About three thousand," it said.[3] - -A short and, according to the report of the committee, a pretty sharp -discussion followed the reading of this answer, ending in the despatch -of another telegram to the colonel: - - "Hold on and care for what you have; enlist no more until - further orders. - - (Signed) ABRAHAM LINCOLN." - -Colonel Birney's disappointment can be imagined. In another hour his -boats would have been off and out of reach of telegrams. Now, all -orders had to be countermanded and the boats tied up. - -The next day the colonel went to Washington and had an interview with -Mr. Stanton, always his friend, and ready to do for him all that his -position towards the President permitted him to do. - -The latter Colonel Birney did not see, but the encouragement, -protection, and aid he received from the great war secretary, with -whose patriotism mingled no selfish ambition, enabled him, after a few -weeks, to reorganize his plans and continue the work which led to -emancipation in the State of Maryland. - -A new order was issued, by consent of the President, authorizing the -enlistment of slaves of rebels and of consenting loyal masters. - -The final details of this novel recruiting business will be given in -another chapter. - - CATHERINE H. BIRNEY. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] The intermediate regiments were raised in Boston, Philadelphia, -and in Ohio. - -[2] Sam was a member of the 7th regiment, and in battle was -distinguished for his bravery. He was killed Oct. 27, 1864, in the -battle near "Kill House," Va. - -[3] A much larger number of slaves had been received at the barracks, -but the great majority, being non-combatants, had been transferred to -other points. - - - - -_THE OLD TUNE._ - - - With sad face turned aside, lest sudden comers see her weep, - She sits, her fingers softly trying, on the ivory keys, - To find a half-forgotten way--that memories - May soothe her yearning spirit into dreamful sleep. - - And now the old tune rises,--trembles,--slowly stealing round - That empty room, where often in the other years - It sang its love and tenderness, and gathered tears - To eyes that weep no more,--ah, sweetest, hallowed sound! - - IRENE PUTNAM. - - - - -_BOTH SIDES OF THE COUNTER._ - -ALMOST A TRAGEDY. - - - CHARACTERS. - - Mrs. ETHEL NEVERBY, _A Shopper_. - Mrs. MAUD SAMPELLE, _A Shopper_. - Mr. NEWCOME, _A Salesman_. - _A Chorus of Seven other Salesmen._ - - SCENE:--_The principal aisle of a fashionable shop. Mrs. - Neverby and Mrs. Sampelle discovered sauntering along near a - prominent counter strewn with rich woollen dress-goods. Mr. - Newcome, as they pause for an instant, makes a dash forward - toward the ladies: the seven other salesmen for a moment seek - to restrain his ardor; but he refuses to be restrained, and - instantly holds up to the gaze of the shoppers a piece of - cloth with a most alluring air. They pause--halt--whilst the - chorus, withdrawing, sing, in a low, melancholy voice--_ - -_Chorus._ - - Poor Newcome! - Nay, we must not seek to prevent it; - If we should, he would only resent it: - Let us then be all silent anent it. - Let him say of his breath, "I have spent it;" - Of his patience, "Behold! I have lent it;" - Of his will, "Woe is me! they have bent it;" - Of his garment, "Aye, lo! I have rent it; - Because I believed that they meant it: - Meant to buy-- - Heigh-o-heigh! - O--O--" - - [_Chorus retire and busy themselves with other remote - customers and goods, keeping, however, a wary and - observing eye fixed upon Newcome._ - -NEWCOME (_gushingly_). What can I show you this morning, ladies? - -ETHEL (_sweetly_). Oh, thank you, we are merely looking as we pass by. - -MAUDE. Oh yes, that is all. - -NEWCOME. It will do no harm to show you these goods, I am sure, -ladies. These double-width, all-wool, imported French suitings, in all -the latest shades, reduced, marked down only half an hour ago from two -dollars and a half a yard to--one-fifty! - -ETHEL (_takes a step nearer to the counter_). That blue is lovely, -isn't it, Maud? - -MAUD (_also taking a step counterward_). Yes, it is lovely. - -NEWCOME. Is blue the color that you are looking for, madam? - -ETHEL. Oh, not specially. - -NEWCOME. Now just allow me to show you these blues: ten different -tones,--the navy, Marie-Louise, slate, Russian, Princess of Wales, -robin's-egg, army, cobalt, indigo, steel,--all of them exquisite, and -very fashionable! - - [_Brings down pieces of goods and displays them._ - -MAUD. They are lovely. - -NEWCOME. All at the same price, one dollar and fifty cents, reduced -from two and a half only this morning. - -ETHEL. Why are they so low? (_Fingers goods_). Is there any -imperfection? - -NEWCOME (_ecstatically_). None in the world, madam--none in the world. -They are just an importer's surplus stock that our buyer got at a -tremendous reduction, and we are selling them at this absurd price -merely to get rid of them before taking stock. - -MAUD (_eying the goods behind the counter on shelves_). Ethel, that -gray is too sweet for anything; it would just match your chinchilla -furs perfectly! - -ETHEL. So it would! - -NEWCOME (_tossing aside the blues with a jubilant air_). Gray, did you -say, madam? We have a line of grays not to be found anywhere else in -the city; every possible tint and tone. Is it for yourself, madam? - - [_Gazing at Ethel as he moves heavy pile of grays from - shelf to counter._ - -ETHEL. Oh no; we are, as I told you, merely looking (_glances at -Maud_) for a friend. - - [_Chorus of clerics, softly and with a semi-sarcastic, - semi-melancholic demeanor, advance and sing_: - - They are looking for a friend, - Who is ill, and cannot spend - Any strength, but must depend - On their offices, and send - For some samples that may tend - To assist her health to mend. - So their time they gladly lend - To so laudable an end - As is "looking for a friend." - - [_Chorus retire and again busy themselves with other - customers._ - -MAUD. Yes, an invalid lady who is unable to go out at all; we thought -if we could take her some samples. - - [_Chorus groan weakly._ - -NEWCOME. Certainly, madam. - - [_Opens drawer and hands forth any number of packets of - samples._ - -ETHEL. Oh, how good you are! Thank you. Say, Maud, isn't that green, -up there, the top of that left-hand pile, isn't it too lovely and chic -for anything? - -MAUD. Perfect. - -NEWCOME (_abandoning the search for more samples_). Green--did you say -green, ladies? - -ETHEL. Oh, never mind! - -NEWCOME (_struggling with the greens, which threaten to topple over on -him_). No trouble at all, madam--none (_lands the greens successfully -on the counter_). We have, as you see, a complete line of the -greens--the most fashionable and stylish color of the season. Do be -seated, madam, and just let me show you these unparalleled goods, -one-fifty only a yard, reduced from two and a half, all-wool, -warranted imported French dress material. We sell no domestic goods in -this establishment. - -MAUD. We might look at them, dear. - - [_Approaches seat._ - -ETHEL. Well (_approaches seat_)--I suppose we might; we promised her -we would look at everything, you know, and report this afternoon. - -NEWCOME (_displaying goods_). There, ladies! I am sure there is not to -be found anywhere in the city, or indeed out of it, such a selection -of greens; all tones and shades to suit every taste and complexion. Is -it for yourself, may I ask, madam? - -MAUD. Oh no, no, no--for a friend. - -NEWCOME. And what complexion is the lady, light or dark? We have tints -to suit all. - -MAUD (_to Ethel_). Would you call her fair or dark, dear? - -ETHEL. Oh, dark, of course. - -MAUD. You would! Why, I thought she was just about my complexion. - -ETHEL. So she is, love, exactly. - -MAUD. Why, darling! I am not dark, surely; I am considered to be very, -very fair for a person with such dark hair and eyes. - -ETHEL. Now, I would call you a perfect brunette, dear. - -MAUD. How funny! Why, I'm just exactly your complexion. - -ETHEL. Oh, my love, only reflect--my hair is yellow and my eyes are -blue! - -MAUD. I know, dearest, but you have an olive skin. - -NEWCOME (_who has been patiently holding up the greens at the risk of -breaking his arms_). There, ladies! I am sure we have a selection of -shades in these greens that must suit the most fastidious. - -ETHEL. They are beautiful! - - [_Sits._ - -MAUD. Lovely! - - [_Sits._ - -NEWCOME (_warmly, and much encouraged by the ladies having taken -seats_). Oh, I can always tell at a glance what will suit a customer. -Now, what you desire is not the common grade of colorings, but -something elegant and yet not conspicuous--like this new reed-green, -for example. - - [_Holds up the goods._ - -ETHEL. How sweet! - -MAUD. Isn't it? - -ETHEL. Do you really think she would like green? - -MAUD. I don't know; she is so particular, you know. - -ETHEL. Yes, I know. Didn't she-- It seems to me she said something or -other about brown--didn't she? - -MAUD. Why, yes, to be sure, I believe she did. - -NEWCOME (_casting the greens into a reckless oblivion_). Brown? We -have a selection in all the browns that is not to be found elsewhere, -I am confident. (_Struggles with great pile of browns; grows warm -with effort; pauses to mop his brow with handkerchief; finally -brings down huge number of browns and lands them on counter._) -Our--assortment--of--browns--is (_heaves a deep sigh_), I may say, -unequalled. - -ETHEL. What a sweet shade that is! - -MAUD. Isn't it? - -ETHEL. Are these the same price as the others? - - [_Fingers the browns._ - -NEWCOME. Exactly the same, madam; one dollar and fifty cents a yard, -reduced from two and a half; all-wool. - -MAUD. Are you sure they are all-wool? This piece feels rather harsh to -me. - -NEWCOME. Every thread, madam; that I will guarantee. We are not -allowed to misrepresent anything in this establishment. You can see -for yourself. - - [_Recklessly frays out a few inches of the brown._ - -ETHEL (_also fingering goods_). Yes, they are all-wool; French, did -you say? - -NEWCOME. Every piece imported. We keep no domestic woollen goods -whatever. We have no call for anything but the foreign goods. - -MAUD. How wide did you say? - -NEWCOME. Double width, madam--forty-four inches. - -ETHEL. Five, seven--let me see, it would take about--how much do you -usually sell for a costume? - -NEWCOME (_with hilarity, holding up the browns_). From eight to ten -yards, madam, according to the size of the lady. For your size I -should say eight yards was an abundance--a great abundance. - -ETHEL. She is just about my size, isn't she, Maud? - -MAUD. Just about. It wouldn't take eight yards, I shouldn't think, of -such wide goods made in Empire style. - -ETHEL. No, I suppose not; but then it's always nice to have a piece -left over for new sleeves, you know. - -MAUD. Yes, that's so. - -NEWCOME. An elegant shade, ladies, becoming to anyone, fair or dark. I -am sure any lady must be pleased with a dress off of one of -these--serviceable, stylish, the height of fashion. - -ETHEL. Is brown really so fashionable this season? - -NEWCOME. I am sure we have sold a thousand yards of these browns to -ten of any other color. - -MAUD. Is that so? - -ETHEL. I do wonder if she really would prefer brown. What do you -think, dear? - -MAUD. Well, it depends somewhat, I think, on how she is going to have -it made. - -ETHEL. True. Well, I think she said in _directoire_. - -MAUD. Plain full skirt? - -ETHEL. Yes, smocked all around--no drapery at all. - -MAUD. Candidly, love, do you like a skirt without any drapery at all? - -ETHEL. Well, no, I can't say I do. Do you? - -MAUD. No. I like a little right in the back, you know--not too much. -But I think a little takes off that dreadfully plain look. Don't you? - -ETHEL. Yes. - -MAUD. How are y-- I mean how is she going to have the waist? - -ETHEL. I don't know. I heard her say that she was going to have a puff -on the sleeve. - -MAUD. At the elbow? - -ETHEL. No, at the shoulder. - -MAUD. And revers, I suppose. - -ETHEL. Yes, those stylish broad ones. - -MAUD. Of velvet? - -ETHEL. Velvet or plush. - -NEWCOME (_who has been manfully holding the browns up above his head, -permits them to gently descend_). We have a full line in plushes and -velvets, ladies, to match all these shades. - -MAUD. How nice! - -ETHEL. So convenient! - -NEWCOME (_mildly_). Do you think you'll decide on the brown, madam? - -ETHEL. Oh, dear! I don't know. It is so hard to shop for some one -else! - -MAUD. It is horrid. - -ETHEL. I vow every time I do it that it shall be the last. I am always -so afraid of getting something that the person won't like. - - [_Sighs._ - -NEWCOME. Any lady must like this brown, madam. Just feel the texture -of this piece of goods, and take the trouble to examine the quality. -Why, I have never in all my experience sold a piece of goods of such a -class at a cent less than two dollars a yard--never. - -MAUD. It is very fine. - -ETHEL (_vaguely eying the goods behind the counter on the shelves_). -Is that a piece of claret-colored that I see up there? - -NEWCOME (_lays down the browns with a faint sigh of reluctance_). Yes, -oh, yes. - -ETHEL. Never mind to get it down. - -NEWCOME. No trouble in the world to show anything; that's what I am -here for. (_Sighs as he attains the clarets and fetches them to the -counter._) Rich shades; ten tints in these also, calculated to suit -any taste. - -MAUD. I always did like claret. - -ETHEL. Yes, it is so becoming. - -MAUD. It has such a warm look, too! - -ETHEL. Now, that--no, this one--no, please, that darker piece--yes. -Maud, dear, that made up with plush and garnet buttons and -buckles--Oh, did I tell you I saw some such lovely garnet trimmings at -Blank's last week, only seventy-five cents a yard, just a perfect -match for this. Wouldn't it be too lovely for anything? - -MAUD. Indeed it would. I am almost tempted myself. Claret is my color, -you know. - -NEWCOME. A splendid shade, madam, and only just two dress lengths -left. - -ETHEL. Is this the same goods as the others? - -NEWCOME. The very same; all-wool imported suitings, forty-four inches -wide, reduced from two-fifty a yard to only one dollar and a half. - -MAUD. Wouldn't that be just perfect with that white muff and boa of -mine, dearest? - -ETHEL. Too startling, love. Do you know, I think you made a mistake in -getting that white set. - -MAUD. Why? - -ETHEL. Too striking. - -MAUD. Do you think so? - -ETHEL. Yes. Of course it's lovely for the theatre and opera. - -MAUD. It's awfully becoming. - -ETHEL (_to Newcome_). Now, do you really sell as much claret color as -you do green or brown this season? - -NEWCOME. Oh yes, madam; if anything, more. You see claret is one of -the standards, becoming alike to young and old. Why, a child might -wear this shade. Claret will always hold its own; there is a change in -the blues and the greens and the browns, but the claret is always -elegant, and very stylish. - -MAUD. I think so too. - -ETHEL (_meditatively_). I do wonder if she would like claret better -than brown. - -NEWCOME. I can show you the browns again, ladies. - -ETHEL. Oh, never mind. - -NEWCOME. No trouble in the world. (_Holds up browns and clarets -both._) Now you can judge of the two by contrast. - -MAUD. Both lovely. - -ETHEL. Which do you like best, love? - -MAUD. My dear, I don't know. - -NEWCOME. You can't go amiss, madam, with either of those, I am sure. -Any lady must like either of them. - -ETHEL. Oh, dear! I wish people would get well and do their own -shopping; it is so trying! - -MAUD. Horrid! - -NEWCOME. An elegant piece of goods, madam; will wear like iron. - -ETHEL. What would you do, dear? - -MAUD. I really don't know what to say. When does she want to wear it? - -ETHEL. Dinner and theatre. - -MAUD. By gaslight, then? - -ETHEL. Yes, of course. - -MAUD. Does the gaslight change the shade much? - -NEWCOME. Just a trifle, madam; it makes it richer. - -MAUD. Darker? - -NEWCOME. Just a half a tone. - -ETHEL. Then that must be considered. Oh, dear! - - [_Sighs plaintively._ - -MAUD. Why not look at it by gaslight, love? - -ETHEL. Oh, I hate to give so much trouble! - -NEWCOME. No trouble in the world, madam--a pleasure. I will gladly -show you these goods by gaslight, for I am confident you will only -admire them the more. Here, boy (_calls boy, and hands him a pile of -goods_), take these to the gaslight-room. This way ladies, please. -(_They cross the aisle and enter the gaslight-room, preceded by the -boy, who sets down the goods and retires._) There! look at that! Isn't -that a rich, warm, beautiful color! - - [_Displays clarets._ - -MAUD. Lovely! - -ETHEL. Yes, lovely--but (_dubiously_) I am so afraid she won't like -it. - -MAUD. It is very perplexing. - -ETHEL. Yes. Oh, how sweet those browns do look in this light! Don't -they? - -NEWCOME. Ah, I just brought over the browns, madam, for I thought you -might care to see them too. - - [_Displays browns._ - -MAUD. How they do light up! Don't they? - -NEWCOME. Newest tints, every one of them. Not been in stock over a few -weeks, and those browns have sold like wildfire. - -ETHEL. For my own part I always did like brown. - -MAUD. Yes, so do I. - -ETHEL. It's so ladylike. - -MAUD. Yes, and it's a color that is suitable to almost any occasion. - -ETHEL. Yes. Now that lightest piece would be just too sweet, wouldn't -it, made up with that new Persian trimming? - -MAUD. Exquisite! Say, do you know I priced some of that trimming the -other day. - -ETHEL. Did you? how much? - -MAUD. Awfully expensive! Five dollars a yard. - -ETHEL. How wide? - -MAUD. Oh, not more than four inches. - -ETHEL. It wouldn't take much, would it? - -MAUD. That depends on where you put it. - -ETHEL. Well, just on the bodice and sleeves and collar. - -MAUD. About two yards and a half. - -ETHEL. Fifteen dollars? - -MAUD. Yes. - -NEWCOME. This brown trimmed in the manner you mention, ladies, would -be very elegant. - -MAUD. Yes, so it would. I wish now that I had looked more particularly -at the browns out by the daylight. - -NEWCOME. It is easy to look at them again, madam, I am sure. Here, -boy, carry these goods back to the counter where you got them. (_Boy -crosses, laden with goods; Newcome and ladies follow._) That's it. -(_Boy retires._) Now, madam, just look at that shade by this light. -Isn't that perfect? - -ETHEL. Yes, it's lovely, but-- - -MAUD. Did she say she wished a brown especially, dear? - -ETHEL. No, she left it to me entirely. - -MAUD. How trying! - -ETHEL. Yes. I--I really, you know. I don't dare to take the -responsibility; would you? - - [_Newcome's arms falter slightly in upholding the goods._ - -MAUD. Frankly, my love, I think shopping for anyone else is something -dreadful. - -ETHEL. It is so trying and so embarrassing. I don't dare really to get -either (_Newcome's arms fall helpless; he sighs_) one of them. - -MAUD. They are lovely, though; aren't they? - -ETHEL. Yes, if (_Newcome revives a little_) I thought she would really -be satisfied. - - [_He essays once again to hold up the browns._ - -MAUD. But, dear, they never are. [_His arms again droop._ - -ETHEL. No, never. No matter how much trouble you take, or what pains -you are (_he sighs feebly_) at (_he totters_), they are so ungrateful. - -MAUD. Yes, always. - -ETHEL. Well, I believe we can't venture to decide this morning (_he -staggers_) about the shade. We will very likely return to-morrow. - - [_He raises a weakly deprecating hand._ - -MAUD (_aside, as the two ladies are going_). Well, we got off quite -nicely. - -ETHEL. Yes, didn't we! I wouldn't be seen in either of those horrid -things; would you? - -MAUD. No. - - [_Newcome falls to the earth with a groan of despair; the - Chorus rush forward and gently raise him in their arms. - As they bear him off, they sing, in a doleful and yet - half-malicious fashion_: - -_Chorus._ - - Poor Newcome! - You are not the first man they have ended, - And left on the cold ground extended; - Or to whom they have sweetly pretended, - On whose taste they have weakly depended;-- - Whom they've left on the cold ground extended, - Minus money they never expended, - On goods that they never intended - To buy, - Heigh-o, heigh, - O--O--! - - [_They retreat_, C., _as the ladies exeunt_, R., L. _Music - pianissimo as curtain falls._ - - FANNIE AYMAR MATHEWS. - - - - -_IRISH NORAH TO ENGLISH JOHN._ - -(Her theory of Home Rule under the Union.) - - - "It manes, and shure and where's the harm?" - Said Nora to her spouse; - "It manes: if you must mind yer farm, - That I shall mind me house." - - - - -_BELLA'S BUREAU._[4] - -A STORY IN THREE SCARES. - - -SCARE THE FIRST. - -I almost flung myself into Dick Vandeleur's arms when he entered my -library that evening. - -"Can you imagine why I sent for you in such a deuce of a hurry?" I -blurted out, embracing him effusively in my pleasure at seeing him. - -"Well, I did think there might have been a woman in the case," he -drawled, in his deliberate way, stopping to adjust his neck-tie, which -had worked its way over his ear during the struggle. "But then, as I -happened to have acted as your best man only two months ago, when you -married the most charming of women, why, b'Jove, I--" - -"Well, it is a woman," I groaned, cutting his speech short. - -"The devil!" - -"Yes, and the very worst kind, I fancy, if thoroughly aroused." - -"But, my deah boy, with such a wife it's--it's--it's--" - -"Yes, it's all that and a good deal more," I growled, gloomily. "Don't -add to my misery with your ill-timed reproaches. Richard, a back -number of my unsavory career has turned up to deprive me of my -appetite and blight my being. You remember Bella Bracebridge, of the -nimble toes, at whose shrine I worshipped so long and so idiotically? -Well, I received a letter from her only yesterday." - -"No!"--incredulously. - -"Yes." - -"What!--little Bella who used to caper around in such airy garments at -the Alhambra?" - -"The very same. I only wish I could be mistaken," with a despairing -groan. "It seems she married money and retired from the stage. By some -means she disposed of her husband, and is now a rich and probably -good-looking widow. She has purchased an estate within half a mile of -here, and is going in heavy for style. She wants to make me the -stepping-stone to social success; she sighs for the purple penetralia -of the plutocracy. See what a predicament I am in! To introduce her in -this house would plant the most unjust suspicions in Ethel's -Vassarian mind, while her mother, Mrs. McGoozle, might institute -awkward inquiries into the dear, dead past"--with a shiver of -anticipation. "Now, my dear Vandeleur, that woman means mischief. She -has got about a hundred of my letters breathing the most devoted love: -if dear Ethel got a glimpse of a line she would go into hysterics. -Bella has hinted, even politely threatened, that unless I show her -some attention, which means introducing her to my wife's circle of -friends, she will publish those letters to the world or send them to -the dramatic papers. Now you must help me out of this scrape." - -"Delighted to be of any service, I'm sure," tapping his boots -impatiently with a jaunty little cane. "But, really, you know, I don't -see--" - -"Why, it's easy enough. Don't you remember we were once the pride of -the school because we robbed watermelon patches so skilfully? What a -narrow shave that was in the apple orchard the night before -commencement, when you--" - -"Yes, yes, I remember, deah boy; but what have those childish pranks -got to do with the present case? We don't want to rob an apple -orchard"--by way of mild protest. - -"It is another kind of fruit that we are after--the fruit of youthful -follies. Here," opening a cupboard and throwing out two pairs of -overalls somewhat the worse for paint, two jumpers ditto, and several -muddy overshoes, "Vandeleur, if you love me put these things on." - -I fancy I can see him now adjust his glass and survey me with bulging -eyes. I certainly did have nerve to ask that famous clubman, so -irreproachable in his dress, to assume such inartistic and plebeian -garments. - -It took a great deal of palavering before I could persuade him that I -was lost unless he consented. How he grunted as he reluctantly laid -aside his silk-lined white kersey coat and evening dress, and tried to -put on the overalls with one hand while he held his aristocratic -aquiline nose with the other. - -"Really, I hope I shan't be found dead in these togs," he remarked -ruefully, as he surveyed himself in the glass. "What would Flossy say? -and how the chaps at the Argentine would wonder what I'd been up to!" - -I cut short his speculations by thrusting a soft slouched hat on his -head and dragging it down over his eyes. - -"There now!" I said, standing off and contemplating him critically -and admiringly; "you have no idea, my boy, how becoming this costume -is. One might imagine you had been born a stevedore." - -He looked rather sour at this doubtful compliment, and hitching up his -baggy trousers, asked, "Well, what is the next misery?" - -"It is twelve o'clock," I said, referring to my watch. "My wife has -gone to bed. Like Claude Duval, we will take to the road." - -After a stiff libation of brandy and soda we stole softly downstairs -and found ourselves in front of the house. Only one light glimmered in -the black pile, where Ethel was going to bed. - -"Where away?" asked Vandeleur, as I turned the path. - -"To storm Bella's bureau," I cried, leading the way through the dark. - - -SCARE THE SECOND. - -With much difficulty we found ourselves at last in the spacious -grounds of Bella's estate. I had laid my plans carefully the day -before, and there seemed no possibility that they would miscarry. By -liberal fees I had learned from her butler that she was to spend that -night in New York with a friend, and for a further consideration he -offered to leave one of the drawing-room windows open so that we -should have a clear field. - -Everything seemed to be working beautifully, and I already felt the -coveted letters in my grasp. We found the French window ajar, and with -tremulous hearts stepped over the sill and into the room. After -several collisions with the furniture, of which there seemed to be -what we thought an unnecessary amount, we finally scraped our way into -the hall. - -Here was a quandary. We were in a hall, but what hall? Whether the -stairs led in the right direction there was no one present to consult. -We walked or rather crawled up them, nevertheless. I tried the first -door on the landing, and was rewarded with "Is that you?" by a female -voice that sent us scuttling along the passage in undignified haste. - -Well, at last, after many narrow escapes from breaking our necks, we -reached Bella's room. I knew it the moment I saw the closet full of -shoes. Bella was always proud of her feet, and had, I believe, a pair -of boots for every hour of the day. - -To make things even more sure that I had arrived at the chaste temple -of my former flame, there was the famous bureau of ebony inlaid with -ivory--that bureau which contained enough of my inflammatory letters -to reduce it to cinders. - -"Can you regard that bureau with equanimity?" I exclaimed, -unconsciously assuming a dramatic attitude. "Does it not recall your -vanished youth--the red horizon of your adolescence? Ah," I cried, -overcome by the sight of that familiar bit of furniture, "how often -have I slid a piece of jewelry into that top drawer as a surprise for -Bella! Her delighted shriek which followed the discovery rings in my -ears even now. Oh, halcyon days of happy holiday, mine no more, can a -lifetime with a funded houri wholly fill your place?" - -"That's all very well," cried Vandeleur, who can assume a disgustingly -practical tone when he wants to. "While you are rhapsodizing here over -your poetical past, some stalwart menial may arrive with a -blunderbuss, and fill our several and symmetrical persons with No. 2 -buckshot. Perhaps Bella may have missed her train or her friend. She -might return here at any moment and surprise us"--looking around him -uneasily. - -"Anybody would think that you had never been in a boudoir at this time -of night," I retort savagely. - -I begin to pull out the drawers of the bureau, breaking locks in the -most reckless way, and tossing the contents of these dainty -receptacles about in the most utter confusion. Vandeleur, with his -eyeglass adjusted, is poking into everything in the closet as if he -were looking for a mouse, only pausing now and then to glare around -with an apprehensive shiver. - -"Dear me," I soliloquize, while the contents of those bureau drawers -are tossed here and there in the fever of my search. "How everything -here reminds me of the past! She has even preserved the menu card of -that memorable dinner at Torloni's; and here--here is a lock of brown -hair tied with a pink ribbon! I really believe it must be mine!" - -"My deah boy," howls Vandeleur, shaking me by the arm vigorously, -"will you cut short your soliloquy? Is this a time for poetry, when we -might get ten years if we were found burglarizing this house?" - -I pay no attention. - -"And here is the steel buckle from her shoe that fell off the night we -danced together at the French ball. Poor dear Bella! that was not the -only dance we led where folly played the fiddle!"--with a thrill of -reminiscence. - -"If you don't find those letters in just two minutes," interrupts the -dreadful Vandeleur, "I shall post for home." - -"In one second, my boy--one second." - -Now I examine the bureau carefully for a concealed drawer. I seem to -have ransacked every corner of that precious article in vain. Visions -of Bella's vengeance flash before my eyes. I can see the demoniac -smile on her face as she gloats over my downfall. The white wraith -conjured up by the thought of those fateful letters fills me with a -mad fury, and I long to dash that hateful bureau into a thousand -pieces and flee the house. - -But the demolition could not be executed noiselessly, and the -situation is perilous enough already for a man of my delicately -organized constitution, with a heart that runs down with a rumble like -a Waterbury movement; so I think I won't break the bureau. - -I renew my mad search for the missing drawer, that seems to be of a -most retiring disposition, as drawers go. I bethink me of stories of -missing treasure: how the hero counted off twenty paces across the -floor, and then dropped his dagger so that its blade would be imbedded -in the wood, and then dug through several tons of masonry, until he -found a casket, sometimes of steel, sometimes of iron, and sometimes -of both. - -And then he did a lot more mathematical calculating, and pressed a -knob, and there you are! Ah! a thought--I had forgotten to apply -myself to the moulding of the bureau, as a hero of the middle ages -would have done under the circumstances. - -I begin from side to side, up, down, and around. Ha! ha! at last! A -little drawer shoots out almost in my face, startling me like a -jack-in-the-box. - -A faint perfume of crushed violets salutes my nostrils. The -letters--they are there in the bottom of the drawer! I know them too -well by the shape of the square large envelopes. They cost me many a -dollar to send through the stage-door by the gouty Cerberus at the -gate when Bella trod the boards. - -I reach out my hand to seize them, when an awful scream causes me to -stagger back in dismay. - -Bella Bracebridge, in a jaunty travelling dress, stands in the doorway -in the attitude of a tragic queen--her eyes flashing, her bosom -heaving, just as she looked the day she asked for a raise in salary -and didn't get it. - -She steps towards me: I retreat, transfixed by her defiant attitude. -She fear a common burglar? Never! - -I know she intends to seize me and scream for help, and I am afraid, -too, that she may recognize my face. So I step back--back, edging -towards the window. - -She reaches out her hand to seize me, then totters and falls in a dead -faint. - -I look around for Vandeleur. He has lost all presence of mind; is -staring at the figure on the floor, with wild, dilated eyes, and an -expression of hopeless idiocy on his face. I can hear people moving -below stairs. Her scream must have aroused the house. "Vandeleur," -shaking him by the arm, "we must run for it. Do you understand? Ten -years! Hard labor!"--the last words hissed excitedly in his ear. - -"What? where? who?" he mumbles, with a face as expressive as that of -codfish. - -I rush to the balcony to see if we can make the jump below. It is -dark, but the leap must be made. Better a broken leg than a ball and -chain on a healthy limb for years and years. - -I drag Vandeleur in a helpless condition out on the balcony, boost him -up on the railing, and push him off. Then I leap after him. - -Fortunate fate! We fall into a clump of blackberry bushes, and not a -moment too soon. Lights flash out from above. I hear the hum of -excited voices, Bella's calm and distinct above the rest, as she gives -the ominous order, "Let those bloodhounds loose!" - -Ugh! We scramble out of the bushes in the most undignified haste, -leaving most of our outward resemblance to human beings on the thorny -twigs. Then helter-skelter over the fields and hedges, stumbling, -staggering, and traversing what I suppose to be miles of country. - -Vandeleur is snorting like a steam calliope in bad repair, and I am -breathing with the jerky movement of an overworked accordion. "I can -go no farther," he exclaims, dropping down in a huddled heap at the -foot of a scrubby pine-tree like a bag of old clothes. - -I don't feel much in a hurry either, but I try to infuse some life -into him by hustling him and shaking him in a brutal and unsympathetic -manner. - -"Do you hear that?" I howl in despair as the baying of the bloodhounds -rolls towards us over the meadow like muttered thunder. "There is -nothing to do but climb this tree, unless you want to furnish a free -lunch for those brutes." - -"Free lunch? get me some," he mumbles, relapsing into his old idiotic -state again. Then I fall upon that unfortunate man in a fury of rage, -and pound him into a consciousness of his danger. - -He consents at last to be pushed or rather dragged up in a tree, whose -lowest limb I straddle with a feeling of wild joy and ecstasy just as -the hounds rush past below, their flashing eyes looking to me just -then as large as the headlights of a host of engines. - -"Let's go home now," again murmurs the helpless creature at my side, -shaking so on the limb that I am compelled to strap him there by his -suspenders. - -"Ain't we going home?" he chatters. "I want a good supper, and then a -bed--_bed_," lingering on the last word with soothing emphasis. - -"Oh, you'd like a nice supper, would you?" I growl. "Well, those -bloodhounds are after the same thing. Perhaps you had better slide -down the tree and interview them on the chances. Then one or the other -of you would be satisfied." - -"But they've gone away." - -"Well, you needn't think you have been forgotten, just the same. Don't -you see, wretched man, that the morning is breaking," pointing to the -east, where the sun had begun "paintin' 'er red." "Once in the high -road we should be discovered at once; here at least we are -safe--uncomfortably safe," as I moved across the limb and impaled -myself on a long two-inch splinter with spurs on it. - -He fell into a doze after that, only rousing himself now and then to -utter strange croaking sounds that frightened me almost as much as the -baying of the bloodhounds. I think I fell asleep too for a few -moments, for when I was roused by an awful yell proceeding from my -companion I found that he had burst his bonds and fallen out of the -tree, while the bright sun was shining in my eyes. - -Visions of Ethel's face over our charming breakfast-table rose before -me, and I seemed to scent afar off the steam of fragrant mocha in a -dainty Sčvres cup as she held it towards me. The thought of that -morning libation settled the business. - -I would march stalwartly home--yea, though a thousand bloodhounds with -dangerous appetites barred my way! - -I slid down the tree and found Vandeleur still asleep. I don't believe -that even the fall had waked the poor fellow up. - -I had only to whisper the word "Breakfast" in his ears to have him -start as if he had received a galvanic shock. - -"Where?" he asked, with tears in his eyes. - -"Home." - -We crawled along through the bushes in the wildest haste our poor -disjointed and almost dismembered bodies would carry us; like a pair -of mud-turtles who had seen better days did we take to all-fours. - -Fortunately, my place was not far away, and we had just strength -enough to crawl up on the porch and fall against the door heavily. - -"Breakfast," I gasped, as Ethel's lovely face appeared suddenly at my -side like a benignant angel's. - -"What--what can I get you?" murmured the dear girl, in an agony of -mind, hurrying here and there, her eyes suffused with tears. - -"Bloodhounds!" murmured Vandeleur, relapsing into idiocy. - - -SCARE THE THIRD. - -If you have ever had the fortune to be married to a Vassar graduate of -the gushing and kittenish order, between nineteen and twenty, you will -understand how difficult it was to explain my dilapidated appearance -that memorable morning. - -The ingenuity of my fabrications would have stocked a popular romance -writer with all the modern conveniences; and I am sure the recording -angel must have had difficulty in keeping pace with my transgressions -unless he or she understood short-hand. - -Vandeleur took an early opportunity to escape to the city, knowing -very well that he would be held accountable for my degraded and -dilapidated condition. The friends of a married man always are held -responsible by his wife for any of his moral lapses, no matter when or -where they may occur. - -If I had only succeeded in my undertaking I might have viewed even my -wounds--of which there were many--with some equanimity. But to have -suffered in vain was enough to try the strongest soul; and I am afraid -I was unnecessarily brusque to Ethel when she insisted on soaking me -hourly in the most horrible liniments of her mother's decoction. I was -pickled for about a week by her fair hands, and had become so -impregnated with camphor and aromatic compounds that I exhaled spices -like an Eastern mummy or a shopworn sachet-bag, and longed to get away -from myself and the drugstore smell that clung to me closer than I -ever want my brother to cling. I consented to the embalming process, -because I wanted to look respectable when Ethel's mother, Mrs. -McGoozle, put in an appearance. I knew I could not so easily satisfy -her mind regarding that night of folly without the sworn affidavits of -half-a-dozen reputable citizens. She said I wrote so much fiction -that it had become a habit with me never to tell the truth. - -My eyes had just begun to lay aside mourning when I received at the -dinner-table one stormy night the local paper. I took it for my wife, -who had a penchant for reading the patent-medicine advertisements; but -on the present occasion I displayed an unholy eagerness to get at its -contents. More misery! More horrible complications! - -Almost the entire sheet was given up to a description of the burglary. -There was a picture of Bella's house and of Bella herself; of the -cook, of the coachman--yes, and even of the bloodhounds. - -I had puzzled my brain since that night in trying to imagine why the -hounds had sped past our tree, our noble tree, instead of gathering in -convention at its base and talking the matter over among themselves -while we starved to death upstairs. The paper gave the solution of the -problem. They were pursuing the trail that led to our milkman's -farm--the poor creature of whom I had basely borrowed our suits and -overshoes. - -The worthy man had been arrested and haled before the nearest justice -of the peace, and had he not been able to prove an _alibi_ to the -effect that he was watering his cows at the time, he would have been -summarily dealt with. - -But he had held his peace about my share in the transaction--bless -him! and being a thrifty man, had brought a suit against Bella for -threatening his life with her dogs. - -Yet I had no cause for congratulation, for now I was in the milkman's -power as well as Bella's; and the very next day the honest fellow put -in an appearance, very humble and yet very decided, and insisted that -I should present him with Ethel's prize Frisian cow as a premium on -his silence. - -And I had to consent, though my wife had hysterics in parting with the -animal, and sobbed out her determination to tell Mrs. McGoozle -everything when that lady arrived in a few days. - -This may not sound very terrible to you, but I knew the dreadful -import of her words. - -There was a flash of light through the gloom of my suicidal thoughts -the next morning that made my heart beat high with hope. - -I read in the morning paper that Bella, the cause of all my trouble, -was dead, and that there was to be a sale of her effects at a New York -auction-room the next day. - -Of course that dreadful bureau was in the lot, and I knew that if it -fell into unscrupulous hands there was enough material in that little -drawer to stock a blackmailing establishment for years and years. - -I took the first train for the city on the day of the sale. The -bureau--Bella's bureau--was just being put up as I entered the place. - -I had a thousand dollars in my pocket, so I felt rather contented in -mind. The bidding on the bureau began in a discouraging way. The -hunger of the crowd had been appeased before I came, and they -displayed a lukewarm interest in the bureau. I bid two hundred dollars -finally to settle the argument. I was tired of the delay. I wanted to -settle forever the incubus that preyed upon my spirits. "Two hundred," -I cried exultantly. - -"Three hundred dollars," came in quiet tones from the corner of the -room. The words seem to ripple in an icy stream down the back of my -neck. Could it have been the echo of my voice that I heard? - -"Four hundred," I cried uneasily. The terrible thought flashed over -me, that perhaps another lover had turned up, who believed that his -letters were in the bureau, and was just as anxious to get it as I. -Horrible! - -"Four hundred is bid for this beautiful Louis Fourteenth bureau," -howled the auctioneer, repeating my bid. "Why, gents, this is a shame: -it's--" - -"Five hundred," said the voice from the corner, in calm, cold tones. - -Ah, if I could slip through the crowd and throttle his utterance -forever. - -"Six hundred," I screamed, in desperation. - -Then my unseen foe woke up and we began to bid in earnest. Six, seven, -eight hundred, ran the bids. - -In one of the lulls of the storm, when the auctioneer began to wax -loquacious regarding the beauties of that bureau, I slipped secretly -around to the cashier's desk. - -Would he take a check? I implored. No, he would not; and I thought he -wore a triumphant glitter in his fishy eyes. The terms of the sale -were cash: it was to conclude that day. I turned away, sick at heart. - -"A thousand!" I cried, in desperation, staking my last dollar. There -was a moment's ominous silence. I began to feel encouraged. I watched -the fateful gavel poised in the air, with my heart in my teeth. It -wavered a moment, then began to slowly descend. Never had I seen such -a graceful gesture defined by man as the freckled fist of the -auctioneer described at that moment of hope. - -"Twelve hundred," croaked the demon in the corner. - -The crowd blended into a pulp of color. I fainted. - -I lingered about the city all that night, searching in vain for a -lethean draught at the haunts where consolation is retailed at two -hundred per cent profit. I did not find the nepenthe I sought for -anywhere on draught, so I went home in disgust. - -Ethel received me in her usually effusive manner. She knows I object -to being hugged at all hours of the day, yet I have never been able to -cure her of that affection-garroting process so much in vogue with -young wives of the gushing order. - -"What do you think?" she chirped, when I had staggered to a chair in a -half-strangled condition. "Dear mother has just sent us the most -beautiful present--" - -"Oh, I suppose so," I sneer savagely. "She generally does present us -with something beautifully useless. Perhaps this time it's a -dancing-bear, or a tame codfish"--with a wild laugh. - -"Oh, how can you talk so!" lifting a dab of cambric to her nose with a -preliminary sniff that is generally the signal of tears, according to -our matrimonial barometer. "You know dear mother is so fond of you." - -"Well, it's a case of misplaced affection," I growl, lounging out of -the room just in time to avoid the rising storm. - -I dash upstairs and smoke a cigar in my own room. Then I feel better, -and stroll into Ethel's boudoir, resolved to pitch her mother's -present in the fire if it doesn't suit me. She ought to be suppressed -in this particular. "Wha--what! No--yes, it is!" The bureau, Bella's -bureau, stands in the chaste confines of Ethel's satin-lined nest. I -fling myself upon it, tear the little drawer open--hurl the bundle of -letters into the grate with a cackling laugh. - -Ethel enters timidly just then, and looks first at me and then at the -burning papers with doubt and wonderment in her blue eyes. - -"I have been paying some old debts," I say, with an uneasy laugh. -"These are some of the I.O.U.'s you see burning." - -She lays a soft little arm around my neck and a curly head on my -immaculate shirt-front. Oh, spotless mask for such a darksome heart! -I wonder she cannot catch the sound of its wicked beating. - -"I have been worried about you lately, dear," she whispers, with a -tender tremor in her voice. "I thought perhaps you might--you -might--have become entangled with some other--other--" Then she burst -into tears. - -"How often must I tell you, darling," patting her cheek softly, "that -you are the only woman I ever loved?" - -"Oh, Jack!" - - ERNEST DE LANCEY PIERSON. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[4] The rights of dramatization of this story are reserved by the -author. - - - - -_A SHOT ON THE MOUNTAIN._ - - - An eagle drifting to the skies - To gild her wing in sunset dies, - To float into the golden, - To swing and sway in broad-winged might, - To toss and heel in free-born right, - High o'er the gray crags olden. - - A dark bird reaching on aloft, - Till far adown her rugged croft - Lies limned in misty tracing-- - Till, riding on in easy pride, - Her cloud-wet wings are ruby pied, - Are meshed in amber lacing. - - An eagle dropping to her cave - On dizzy wing through riven air, - A bolt from heaven slanted; - A startled mother, arrow-winged, - A mountain copestone, vapor-ringed, - An eyry danger-haunted. - - An eagle slanting from the skies - To stain her breast in crimson dyes - Beneath the gilt and golden; - A shred of smoke--the gray lead's might-- - A folded wing--the dead bird's right-- - Abreast the gray crags olden. - - The blush light fades along the west, - The night mist rolls to crag, to crest, - To cowl the ghostly mountain; - Black shadows hush the eyry's calls; - Below, a broad brown pinion falls-- - The last light from the fountain. - - J. W. RUMPLE. - - - - -_EDITORIAL DEPARTMENT._ - - -PURIFYING THE POLLS BY LAW. - -The edifying efforts made by Congress to throw guards about the ballot -would be encouraging were they based on a little knowledge of the -fact, and the reason for it. As it is, the _be-it-enacted_ agreed on -is little better than a solemn protest. Our learned law-makers would -enjoy greater progress if they would remember that we have had for a -century all the law necessary to punish such corruption, and that the -trouble lies in our inability to enforce its provisions. - -What is really wanted is a tribunal to try and enforce the stringent -enactments already in existence. This does not now exist. When a -candidate for Congress corruptly purchases enough votes to secure his -return to either House, he knows that such Chamber, being the judge of -such applicant's qualifications, forms a court without a judge to give -the law or an impartial jury to render a verdict. The Committee on -Elections in either House is made up of the Democratic or Republican -party, and so the jury is packed in advance. - -This is not, however, the only evil feature in the business. There is -probably no organized body so ill-fitted for adjudication upon any -subject as Congress. Returned to place by parties, the members are -necessarily partisans. Their tenure of office is so brief that they -have no time in which to learn their legitimate duties through -experience, and these duties are so numerous, to say nothing of being -encroached upon by services entirely foreign to their positions, that -they have no opportunities for study. The consideration then of any -subject from a judicial point of view is simply impossible. It is -"touch and go" with them, and the _touch_ is feeble, and the go -hurried. It seems that a case of purely judicial sort has no place in -Congress; and yet we have seen an instance--for example, in the New -Idria contention--where the courts had been exhausted, from an Alcalde -to the Supreme Court of the United States, and yet the complainant, -worsted in every one of these tribunals, came through the lobby into -Congress, and for over ten years kept that body in a tumult. Of course -this was kept alive by the corrupt use of stock to the extent of ten -millions, based on the credit of a company that would be such when -Congress gave its illegal approval. This fact alone proves the -dangerous and uncertain character of a legislative body that takes on -judicial functions. - -When a contested election goes before the standing committee called -into existence as a court, it passes into a secret committee-room, -where the so-called evidence, put on paper, is supposed to be -considered. What would be said of a jury impanelled avowedly from the -party of one side, and then made into a court to sit and deliberate -with closed doors against the public? - -It is true that the finding is shaped into a report and goes before -the House. But no member of that body, especially of the House of -Representatives, has either time or opportunity to read the evidence, -or even to listen to the arguments made by contestants upon the floor. -That tribunal has lost all power in its loss of public confidence. It -not only brings the law into contempt, but itself into such disrepute -that its findings are worthless. This is the condition of Congress in -public opinion. So far as contested elections are concerned, it is -regarded with contempt. To make matters worse, and pay a premium on -vice, the losing party is allowed the same mileage and pay given his -successful competitors. - -If all contests were turned over to the United States courts, to be -tried in the locality where the wrong complained of was done and the -witnesses live, there would be few contested elections, and some -chance given to punish bribery and other corruption. - -Again, the prohibition against the subscription or payment of money -has exceptions that open wide the doors to corruption. To say that -money may be used for any purpose is to leave the evil precisely where -the law-makers found it. It were better to have the government furnish -the tickets, as the government supplies the ballot-boxes, rents the -polling-places, and pays the officials for their services. The ballot -is as much a necessity to the machinery of election as the boxes; and -because it would be difficult and troublesome to supply them is far -from saying that it is impossible. - -Then, to punish both bribe-giver and bribe-taker in the same way is to -throw a guard about the iniquitous transaction. The bribe-taker should -go acquit. Of course this would be in a measure opening a door to -blackmailers, and make the candidacy extremely dangerous. Such it -ought to be. The sooner we put a check on the shameless solicitations -for office the better it will be for the Republic. Let the offices, as -of old, in the purer days of the fathers, seek the man--and not the -man, as now, the offices. If the effect of this would be to drive -timid, decent men from office, it would not be worse than the present -system. A candidate for the House of Representatives must not only pay -his two years' salary in advance to "heelers," as they are called, but -must get drunk in every saloon in his district. We cannot make matters -worse, and there is a chance in a change for an improvement. - -True reform to be effectual must be radical. A compromise with evil is -a surrender to hell. To cut a poisoned shrub even to the ground -relieves the eye for a time, but the root is made more vigorous by the -trimming. The constitutional governments of Europe have rid themselves -of bribery and other corruption by digging out the roots. This is the -only course open to us. When members of the House can bribe their way -to place, when Senate chairs are sold in open court, when it calls for -only two millions to purchase the Presidency, and all done by men of -high social position, we have reached the lowest level, and our great -Republic is a mere sham and a delusion. We are not menaced with the -loss of liberty and guaranteed rights. They are gone. - - -THE MUGWUMP ELEMENT. - -The purchase of the Presidency in open market, now generally -recognized, is less disheartening than the apathetic indifference in -which such corruption is regarded by the people. In all communities -men may be found to buy, and men to sell, the sacred privilege upon -which our great Republic rests; but it is rare--so rare that this -experience is almost without precedent--that good citizens, knowing -the nature of their free institutions, are willing to have them -destroyed without an effort in behalf of their preservation. - -To get at not only the fact but the reason of it we must remember that -politics to the average citizen has all the fanaticism of religion, -and all the fascination of gambling. We have the country divided in -two hostile camps, and in these organizations themselves we have lost -the objects for which they were organized. This is the tendency of -poor human nature the world over. It is probably more pronounced in -religion than in any other form. A man will not only fight to the -bitter end, but die as a martyr, for a sect whose dogmas he has never -read, or, if read, fails to comprehend. Politics is our popular -religion. Taking the great mass of our citizens, we are pained to -write that it is about our only religion. - -We say that we have two hostile camps, in both of which the objects -for which they were organized have been entirely lost. The ordinary -Republican can give no reason for being such save that he is not a -Democrat, and the Democrat has the same reason, if it may be called -such. Each will avow, without hesitation, that the other camp is made -up of knaves and fools. The folly of thus designating over half our -entire voting population does not strike the partisan. - -Parties, however, are not called into existence and held together -through intellectual processes. They are founded on feeling. For years -and years the brightest minds and purest characters preached, with -burning eloquence, upon the wrongs of negro slavery, and got ugly -epithets and foul missiles in return, if indeed they were listened to -at all. At a moment of wild frenzy an armed mob at Charleston shot -down our flag. In an instant the entire people of the North rose to -arms, and a frightful war was inaugurated. The flag sentiment -outweighed the Abolition arguments. - -It is not our purpose to give the philosophical view of that contest. -We use it only, so far, in illustration. The sectional feeling that -brought on that armed contest continues in another direction, and -divides the two great parties. It is so intense that each is willing -to see the republic under which we live utterly destroyed, so that one -may be conquered or the other defeated. - -We are all agreed that the ballot is the foundation-stone of our -entire political structure. On this was built the form of government -given us by the fathers, and was the grand result of all the blood and -treasure, of life and property, so patriotically poured out in the -Revolution that made us independent. Yet this ballot is openly -assailed, its processes corrupted with money, and its usefulness -entirely destroyed, without arousing the indignation of an outraged -public. Men of wealth, of high social position, members of churches, -and leaders in what are called the better classes, subscribe and pay -the money knowingly that is to be used in the purchase of "floaters in -blocks of five" or more, while voters, well-to-do farmers, and -so-called honest laborers are organized willingly into blocks and -shamelessly sell that upon which they and their children depend for -life, liberty, and a right to a recompense for toil. When the result -is announced bonfires are burned, and loud shouts go up amid the roar -of artillery, expressive of the joy felt in such a triumph. - -These men of means--it makes no odds how the means are -accumulated--are not aware that in this they are cutting away the -foundations under their feet, and that, too, with ropes about their -necks. Their only security, not only to the enjoyment of their -property but to their lives, lies in the very government they are so -eager to destroy. We have called attention to the fact that humanity -suffers more from an inequality of property than from an inequality of -political rights. These last are rapidly getting to be recognized and -secured in constitutions throughout the civilized world. Kings and -emperors have come to be mere figure-heads above constitutions, and -the political dignity of the poor man is generally acknowledged. But -the poor man remains, and the castle yet rears its lofty front above -the hovels of the suffering laborers. Humanity is yet divided between -the many who produce all and enjoy nothing, and the few who produce -nothing and enjoy all. This is the inequality of property, and -governments yet hold the sufferers to their hard condition. It is -called "law and order," as sacred in the eyes of the Church as it is -potent in courts of justice. - -There is no government so poorly fitted to the execution of the hard -task of holding labor down as this of the United States. In Europe -through the dreary ages the masses have been born and bred to their -wretched condition. With us, on the contrary, there has been a great -expenditure of toil and treasure to teach labor its rights. In Europe -great armies are organized and kept upon a war footing for police -duty. We have no such conservative force upon which to rely in our -hour of peril, and yet so far our government has held sway through our -habitual respect for that which we created. These wealthy corruptors -are rapidly destroying this respect. They are teaching the people that -their ballots are merchantable products, and their ballot-box a rotten -affair. - -Violence follows fraud as surely as night follows day, or a -thunderstorm a poisoned atmosphere. The day is not distant when these -millionaires will be hunting holes in which to hide from the very mobs -they are now so assiduously calling into existence. God in his divine -mercy forgives us our sins when we are repentant, but the law that -governs our being--called nature--knows no forgiveness. The wound -given the sapling by the woodman's axe is barked over, but that cut, -slight as it seems, remains, and may hasten decay a hundred years -after. The wrong done the body politic may fester unseen, but it -festers on all the same. - -Fortunately for the people there is yet a feature in the situation -that gives us hope. We are blessed with no inconsiderable body of men -of sufficient sense and conscience to rise above party control and -vote in support of good measures and honest, capable men. These are -not men dominated by one idea, and devoted to some one measure that is -to remedy all our political ills. These are "cranks," so called, -because they believe that human nature is constructed like -machinery--something like a coffee-mill that has a crank that, if -turned and turned vigorously, will put the entire machine in good -running order. To some this is temperance, to others the tariff, to a -third our common-school system: and so they give their lives to a -vociferous demand for help to turn the one peculiar crank. - -We refer, not to such as these, but the thoughtful, patriotic few who -rise above party obligations to a consideration of their country's -good. These men are not organized into a party,--unless the fact of -two men thinking and feeling alike make a party,--and, as compared to -the Republican and Democratic camp-followers, are few in number. But, -in the evenly divided condition of the two organizations, these men -hold the balance of power, and are dreaded in consequence. Had it not -been for the money used by Republicans, and the treachery practised by -a few leading Democrats, these independents would have given New York -to the Democracy, and Grover Cleveland would be President for the next -four years. - -These men are derided, scoffed at, and held in high disdain by the -partisans of both parties. They are called Mugwumps; and when this -strange epithet is hurled at them the assailant seems to feel -relieved. This is no new thing. Among the traditions of the Church is -one to the effect that as the devil talks he spits fire. All reformers -are treated to this. It is well remembered that in the troublous times -of '61 the Mugwumps, then denounced as Abolitionists, came to the -front and carried the government through its dark hour of peril to a -triumphant close. They were brave, brainy, patriotic men, not -disturbed by the abuse heaped upon them. - -We are comforted to observe the power of these few men as proved in -the debate on the civil-service law of the House when an appropriation -was called for to sustain the Commission. The debate proved what we -all know--that probably not a member of the House but regards the -reform in utter loathing and wrath. And yet, when the vote was taken, -but a small minority were willing to put themselves on record in -opposition. The same clear appreciation of the evil consequences -attending this corruption of the ballot, and the conscience that makes -itself felt as that of the people, are forcing a reform in that -direction. The time is not distant when the now much-reviled Mugwumps -will be regarded, as are the Abolitionists, as the true patriots of -the day. God would have forgiven Sodom and Gomorrah could five -righteous men have been found in either city: this not out of regard -for the five, but from the evidence afforded that if that number -existed, these wicked places could not be altogether lost. - - -OUR HOUSE OF LORDS. - -The dignity of this unnecessary and disagreeable body was somewhat -disturbed by a Senator in a wild state of intoxication, who from his -place in the Chamber assailed in unseemly language the presiding -officer. - -Great consternation fell upon the British House of Commons when the -discovery was made that an entire session had been gone through -without "that bauble," as Oliver Cromwell called it, being upon the -table. When Doctor Kenealy, friend and attorney of the Tichborne -Claimant, was about being sworn in as a member of Parliament, it was -observed that he had a cotton umbrella under his arm. A horror too -profound for utterance fell upon the House, and all proceedings were -arrested until the obnoxious compound of cotton and whalebone was -removed. - -We refer to these events for the purpose of impressing upon our -delegated sovereigns from sovereign States, that unless the -proprieties are preserved their dignity cannot be maintained. What -would be thought of the British House of Lords if Lord Tomnoddy, for -example, were to roll in very drunk, and make personal remarks -touching the integrity of the presiding officer? The thought of such -an event threatens insanity. The British Empire would totter, the -throne shake, and the House of Lords disappear forever. - -The inebriated Senator was not arrested, or even rebuked. We all know -why. On his one vote depends the Republican control of the Senate. To -seize upon, arrest, and cart away, under charge of drunken and -disorderly conduct, the Republican majority of the Senate was so -preposterous as not to be entertained. - -As force could not be used, strategy was resorted to, and the -inebriate Solon was invited out to take more drinks, in the hope that -a little more liquid insanity would render him _hors de combat_. - -This is not the first instance of embarrassment of like sort. When the -men who organized the Star Route dishonesty of the Post-office -Department were indicted, it was found that the head and front of this -offending was a United States Senator. He held the one vote that gave -his party its supremacy in the Senate. To send the Republican majority -vote to the penitentiary was not to be thought of--and so the court -was packed to acquit. - -A body that subordinates its dignity to the supremacy of a party -cannot long retain that awe-inspiring respect so necessary to its -existence. Our House of Lords should bear in mind that the only -reason--if such it may be called--for its existence, is in this -dignity. If the Senate is not the holy, embalmed mummy of a dead king -once known as State sovereignty, it is naught; therefore, when a -Senator endangers this title to existence by unseemly conduct, either -as an inebriate or as a bribe-taker, he should be incontinently -expelled. The expulsion should be conducted with great ceremony. He -should be divested of his robes in the presence of the august -body--robes being procured for the occasion. One might be borrowed -from the Supreme Court. Then the culprit should be conducted by two -assistant Sergeants-at-Arms, one having hold of each arm. The -Sergeant-at-Arms should march behind, bearing the mace. We believe the -Senate has that utensil; if not, that of the House of Representatives -could be procured. At the main entrance the Sergeant-at-Arms should -fetch the mace into a charge, and planting the eagle in the small of -the culprit's back, thrust him out. All the while the chaplain, in a -solemn but distinct voice, should read the Service for the Dead. -After, the presiding officer should give three distinct raps of his -ivory gavel, and say in joyous but decorous voice, indicative of -triumphant yet seemly satisfaction: "The expurgated Senate will now -proceed with the business of legislating for the House of -Representatives." - -So necessary is dignity to the existence of this august body, that the -presiding officer should have an eye continually to it; and when a -Senator, in debate, makes himself ridiculous, he should at once be -called to order. When, for example, the Hon. Senator from Vermont (Mr. -Edmunds) gave his grotesque picture of a common American laborer being -possessed of a piano, and a wife in silk attire, in his own cottage -home, he should have been promptly called to order. The presiding -officer should have remarked that the picture, being imperfect, was in -a measure untrue, and as such could not be entertained by the Senate. -The Senator, however, has the privilege of amending his sketch by -saying that the laborer has not only the luxury found in a piano and -silk-clad wife, but a mortgage on the premises. This, although -improbable, is not impossible for a common laborer; and if the Hon. -Senator will vouch for the fact that he knows one such, his statement -may go on record for what it is worth. - -This would serve to abridge the liberty of speech guaranteed to us by -the Constitution. But we must remember that the same larger freedom -exercised in a bar-room, or upon the streets, or on the floor of the -House of Representatives, is a menace to the dignity of the Senate; -and in view of this, freedom of speech is somewhat circumscribed. -When, therefore, the Hon. Senator from Indiana (Mr. Voorhees) shakes -his senatorial fist at the Hon. Senator from Kansas (Mr. Ingalls), and -calls him an anathematized offspring of a female canine, or words to -that effect, he fractures the dignity of the Senate, and further -adjudication does not turn on the truth of the utterances as in a -court, for we are forced to remember that it is one-half of the -sovereign State of Indiana shaking its fist at one half of the -sovereign State of Kansas. This is very like the old story of the -sheriff of Posey County, Kentucky, who being agitated in a robust -manner by an angry citizen, called on his assailant to desist, as he -was "shaking all Posey County." - -How long the practical common-sense citizens of the United States -will submit to this worn-out superstition of a Senate is a question -that strikes every thoughtful mind. The body was born of a narrow -sectional feeling, long before steam navigation and railroads made the -continent more of one body than was a single colony before the -Revolution; and was a concession to State sovereignty, with the new -and accepted principle of home rule found in State rights. It further -confuses and demoralizes the civil rule of the majority under the -Constitution, as it gives to Rhode Island or Delaware the same power -held by New York or Pennsylvania. - -It was believed by the framers of our government that it would be a -conservative body, and serve as a restraint upon the popular impulses -to be expected from the House. This has not proved to be the fact. The -tenure of office given a Senator is of such length that it weakens the -only control found in public opinion, and this august body is more -extravagant, corrupt, and impulsive than the more popular body at the -other end of the Capitol. If any one doubts this, let such doubter -follow any appropriation bill, say that highway robbery called the -River and Harbor Appropriation, or pensions, from the House to the -Senate. - -The Senate has long since survived its usefulness, if it ever had any; -is to-day an object of contempt; and the sooner we have done with it -the better off we shall be. - - -OUR DIPLOMATIC ABSURDITY. - -There is a deep-felt apprehension indulged in by a class of our -citizens over the grave diplomatic complication found in the dismissal -of Lord Sackville West, and the refusal on the part of Her Gracious -Majesty of England to refill the vacant post at Washington with -another lord. Our national dignity is menaced so long as Mr. Phelps, -envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary residing at or near -St. James's, is permitted to remain. As soon as Sackville "got the -sack," to use a vulgar but expressive phrase, a reasonable time should -have been given Her Gracious Majesty to fill the place; and failing, -the Hon. Phelps should have been promptly recalled. This would have -been hard on the Hon. Phelps, but with our flag insulted and our eagle -scoffed at by an empty legation at the national capital, the Hon. -Phelps should have been prepared to wrap the star-spangled banner -about his diplomatic body and die--if need be--to the fierce screams -of the eagle. He might, after such a glorious demise, have been -consigned to that corner of Westminster Abbey that Dean Stanley -reserved for a distinguished American. It is true that we, in common -with the American people, have designated Senator Ingalls as the one -selected for that honor, and we are prepared to kill him any time, and -forward his remains to the spot, provided the Westminster people are -willing to receive them. But this is carrying us from our diplomatic -mutton. - -Under the circumstances, it is a comfort to know that all this -apprehension of these sensitive citizens is quite uncalled for. This -because we have no diplomatic service, no diplomatic agents, and -therefore no complications to speak of. - -The framers of our government, through some oversight, neglected to -supply us with a diplomatic service. They saw, it is true, no use for -such; nor was it possible to have a government as a trust, and give it -such powers. - -The diplomatic service pertains exclusively to a personal government. -It originated in a sovereign delegating certain powers, attributes of -the crown, to official agents whose duty was to reside near the courts -of other sovereigns, keep a watchful eye upon their movements, report -the same to their masters, and, from time to time, negotiate treaties -of advantage to their own sovereigns. To give these diplomatic agents -dignity and influence they were clothed with sufficient power to -commit their sovereigns to their official acts. This is not possible -with us. The sovereignty in our great republic is in the people; and -it finds expression, in this direction, through the Executive and -Senate. It cannot be delegated. When, therefore, a treaty is -negotiated between us and any foreign power, it is necessary to send a -special envoy to Washington to deal with the Executive. This has to be -sanctioned by the Senate: and our absurd House of Lords has served -notice on the world that the President himself cannot commit our -government to any treaty. - -Why, then, are our diplomatic agents, so called, sent abroad as -ministers? Ministers resident and _chargés d'affaires_ are merely -clerks of the State Department--no more, no less--who are sent abroad -to play at being diplomatists and get laughed at by the courts they -approach. - -The diplomatic corps of Europe, being an important part of their -several governments, is made up of men possessed of fine intellect and -great culture. To meet and associate with such, we send prominent -politicians who, being such, are ignorant of their own government, its -history and character, let alone those of Europe; and they are -tolerated from a good-natured wish to be agreeable, where there is no -profit in being otherwise. We do not suffer in this so much from our -lack of good breeding--for it is difficult for a prominent American to -be other than a gentleman--as we do from the ignorance of our official -agents. Ex-President Grant, for example, in his famous trip round the -world, posed at every court he approached as a royal personage. -General Badeau ("Adjutant-in-waiting"), acting as grand master of -ceremonies, arranged the household, and exacted from all comers the -etiquette due a sovereign. If our good citizens could have known the -ripple of laughter and ridicule that followed the result, in which our -great man was spoken of as "the King of the Yankee Doodles," they -would be more ashamed than proud of the performance. - -It is this ignorance of ourselves and our political fabric that places -us in a false position before the world. The clerk of the State -Department sent abroad by our government as a diplomatic agent, -instead of putting up at a hotel and opening an office in a common -business way, sets up an establishment and "takes on airs." As most -of the diplomatic business is done in a social way, he attempts to -entertain on a salary entirely inadequate to such work. As a court -costume is necessary--which means the sort of livery the diplomatic -agent affects in the presence of his own sovereign--and as we, having -no king, have no livery, our department clerk borrows one, either from -some European court or the theatre, and dances attendance in that. - -No man ever stood higher in the estimation of the world, on account of -his genius, than James Russell Lowell. That esteem was considerably -shaken, in the eyes of an admirer, when, calling on his minister at -London, he found the poet's slender legs encased in tights, and his -little body clad in a gorgeous coat covered with gold buttons. Of -course, Mr. Lowell could masquerade in any dress and remain the -brilliant poet and patriot; but the significance of this livery, its -shallow pretence and humble admission, made the admirer sick. - -The clerk of our State Department sent abroad under this state of -facts finds nothing to do. He is not interested in the business of the -foreign diplomatic corps; and if he were, his government has no hand -in the game, nor is the agent sufficiently instructed to take part -even were he interested. He is tolerated by those with whom he comes -in contact, and his strange associates repay their good-nature by the -amusement they get out of the poor fellow. - -There is no provision in our government for such an absurdity. The -framers of our Constitution provided none; and if our recollection -serves us right, it was not until 1856 that Congress recognized its -existence by a law fixing the rank and compensation. - -The thing ought to be abolished. When Andrew Jackson was first elected -President, he went to Washington fully resolved to put an end to the -absurd business. The politicians were too much for Old Hickory--and so -they are to-day too much for common-sense, the letter and spirit of -our government, and the dignity of our people. With a House of Lords -at home and a so-called diplomatic corps abroad, we are an object of -contempt from the rising of the sun till the setting thereof. - - - - -_THE PASSING SHOW._ - - -Sensationalism in art, as in literature, no doubt has its uses. It -serves to present old truths in a new light, and by a startling -grouping of ascertained facts helps to overcome the inertia of the -average man and make him think. There is a value in novelty, provided -it is rightly used, which is an important aid to the playwright or -scenic artist. But where sensationalism is manifested by a distortion -of facts, a falsification of history, or a violation of the principles -of human nature, its effect is demoralizing both to the artist and the -spectator, the author and the reader. Such an innovation has been -attempted by Mr. Henry Irving and Miss Ellen Terry in their -presentation of "Macbeth" at the Lyceum Theatre, London. It is -excellent acting, faithful reproduction of historic costumes, -exquisite scenery, but--it is not Shakspere. Nor is it human nature. - -Had it been only occasional alterations of the dramatist's lines, or -even the unnecessary division of the play into six acts instead of -five, or the cutting out of some of the characters, the genius of -Irving and Terry might have been pardoned the perversion. But when -they attempt to represent the ambitious, plotting, fiendish murderess -whom Shakspere has depicted, as a loving, devoted wife, who only seeks -to further a little job of killing for the purpose of promoting her -husband's interests, they meet with an infallible critic in the heart -of every intelligent spectator. It is against human nature, and no -amount of wonderful declamation or scenic magnificence can gloss it -over. The purpose of art is to portray nature, to refine it if you -will, but never to contradict. Lovers of the drama will be bitterly -disappointed that Mr. Irving, after having devoted the best years of -his life to the former, should at this late day, for the mere sake of -innovation, resort to the latter. - -Shakspere, the great philosopher of human nature as well as the -greatest dramatist of the centuries, knew full well that unlawful -ambition which includes crime excludes the tender, womanly devotion of -the true wife, and, far from picturing Lady Macbeth as an admirer of -her husband, shows her as sneering at him for his want of courage: - - "Yet do I fear thy nature; - Is too full o' the milk of human kindness." - - "Hie thee hither, - That I may pour _my_ spirits in thine ear." - -And this: - - "We fail. - But screw your courage to the sticking-place." - -Irving and Terry's play is not human nature and is not Shakspere; but, -overlooking these points, their conception is well carried out. It is -a wonderful spectacle. The resources of stage machinery have been -taxed to their utmost, and the English press is one chorus of -admiration at the marvellous landscapes, and at the quaint -ornamentation and the low, groined arches of the old Saxon castle. It -is a pity that these valuable adjuncts were not called unto the aid of -a more correct interpretation of the great ideal. - -And now we are likely to have an epidemic of Macbeths. Margaret Mather -has tried it at Niblo's, and Mrs. Langtry has been incubating a new -presentation, like Terry's, with a "few innovations." Irving's -reputation as a stage manager is such that when his "Macbeth" comes to -America everyone will want to see it. - -But will it ever come to America? For now, forsooth, there are some -members of the dramatic profession in this country who avow their -intention of appealing to Congress to regulate American taste by law, -and to exclude foreign actors under the contract-labor statute. This -brilliant idea originated in the fertile brain of Mr. Louis Aldrich, -and was nursed by the Actors' Order of Friendship. Into this Order -Messrs. Booth and Barrett were initiated with darkened windows and -mysterious rites, for the express purpose of fixing the stamp of their -approval upon the scheme. A delegation appeared before Congressman -Ford's Immigration Committee and begged that the proposed undemocratic -exclusion law shall contain a provision against the landing of foreign -pauper actors. - -But these gentlemen lacked in logic what they possessed in assurance. -They were willing to except "stars" from the operation of the law. -Well, why not exclude "stars"? Do they not compete quite as much with -American talent as the humbler aspirants of the stage? Even a "star" -of the magnitude of Louis Aldrich himself would probably find his rays -outshone in the presence of the brighter effulgence of an Irving or a -Coquelin. It is the "stars" who compete most with native talent, and -on this principle they should be the first excluded. Besides that, if -they are excepted, who is to define a "star"? It would be amusing to -see the Supreme Court of the United States gravely sitting in judgment -on such a question. By all means, Mr. Aldrich, return at once to -Washington and amend your petition. Let Mr. Ford include "stars" also -in his bill. And then let every protectionist crank in the country -have absolute exclusion of every possible competitor and of all kinds -of goods that he wants to sell, and pay a bounty to the farmers for -their crops, and then we shall all be able to raise ourselves by our -boot-straps into a region of perfect happiness. - -Of course there are two sides to every question, and, not wishing to -do an injustice, we will give the one maintained by the petitioners. -We have a law prohibiting the importation of labor contracted for -abroad. This law the courts hold is applicable to cooks, coachmen, and -ministers of the Gospel. Now why should an exception be made in behalf -of a theatrical manager who contracts for a lot of actors, more or -less cheap, in London, to play for him in the United States? Mr. -Aldrich does not ask that the man, be he star or stock, who comes of -his own motives shall be prohibited; but he does protest against the -importation of the cheap histrionic labor which is brought here, -precisely as other skilled or unskilled labor is got over, to compete -with the same labor in the United States. In other words, it is not a -question of taste, but one of bread. - -Another fact is overlooked that has a decided bearing on the question. -In all matters of art we are such a set of snobs that we cannot -recognize any merit in our artists until after they have been indorsed -by English critics and English audiences. If any law can be enacted to -correct this miserable condition, let us have it at an early day. We -know that the greatest actress known to the English-speaking -world--our Clara Morris--has failed to secure the fame and fortune to -which her genius entitled her simply because she neglected to secure -English approbation--which would have been heartily given her had she -ever appeared in London. - -Nor is it true that English stock is preferred to the American -product because of its superior excellence. Mr. Daly has shown the -absurdity of this claim by taking his admirable company to London and -carrying off the honors. In the face of this and every other fact, we -are told that the English comedian doing the society drama is superior -to ours because of his superior social position. That is something to -be relegated to the things which amuse. There is an adaptability about -the American that makes him at home in all conditions. It is possible -for an American actor to wear a dress suit with an ease that is -rivalled only by the French. What is the good of calling on an -Englishman to do on the stage what no Englishman can accomplish in -private life? If there is a John Bull on earth who can wear a dress -suit with ease and elegance, he has not yet been discovered. - -There now, we have given both sides. - -Mr. Edwin Booth offered his brother-actors a much better kind of -protection when, on New Year's Eve, he presented to them "The -Players'" club-house, with its fine library and its treasures of -dramatic art. After all, education and self-development are the only -legitimate means of attaining success; and he who offers his -fellow-beings facilities for improvement and self-help is a far -greater benefactor to them than he who endeavors to apply restrictive -methods. Such an institution has been Mr. Booth's dream for years. It -is a spacious house at No. 16 Gramercy Place, adjoining the residence -of the late Samuel J. Tilden. Mr. Booth purchased it for $75,000, and -spent $125,000 in alterations. The library is probably the finest -collection of dramatic literature in the world. Twelve hundred volumes -were presented by Mr. Booth, and two thousand by Lawrence Barrett, -besides a large number of rare works given by Augustin Daly, T. B. -Aldrich, Laurence Hutton, and others. It was a touching scene when, a -few moments before the old year died, Mr. Booth placed in the hands of -Augustin Daly for the Players' Club the title-deeds to this -magnificent property, and blushing like a girl before the assembled -actors, listened awkwardly to the simple words which Mr. Daly spoke in -reply. Then just after the midnight bells had rung he turned and lit -the Yule log, and the players began the enjoyment of their new home. - -A few days afterwards Mr. Booth closed his very successful -metropolitan engagement at the Fifth Avenue Theatre with "The Fool's -Revenge," Lawrence Barrett appearing in "Yorick's Love," and both the -tragedians started on a Southern tour. - -Miss Mary Anderson appears in a late issue of a sensational -publication as a severe censor of society ladies addicted to attempts -upon the stage. We say Mary Anderson; for her name appears at the end -of the article, and as she is a woman, we will not venture to say that -the property claimed is not her own. Some rude critics have charged -that Mary did not make this up out of her own fair head; and -throughout the profession a state of mind exists that is not -complimentary to the would-be authoress. - -The queerest part of the business, however, is, that such strictures -should come from Miss Anderson. She raided the stage as a society -woman, and struck at once for the honors. There was, if we remember -rightly, no long, weary preparation and laborious training for the -footlights. She went from the parlor to the greenroom, and she went in -with a flourish. She was of Kentucky birth, and Henry Watterson, whose -bright intellect is only surpassed by his good heart, not only -indorsed the ambitious society girl, but made up his mind to put Mary -down the American throat whether the people would or not. Mary was not -unpalatable to the American taste, but Watterson is her father--that -is, dramatically speaking. - -Then Stepfather Griffin came in. Stepfather Griffin was born a -theatrical advance and advertising agent. He did not know this. If we -were to dwell on what Stepfather Griffin does not know, we should fill -all the space of this magazine for the year. - -P. Griffin "caught on" to the provincial condition of our artistic, -literary, and dramatic life, which makes the approval of England -necessary to American success. So Poppy G. transported his American -star to London. He found the Prince of Wales necessary; and -Labouchere, M. P. and proprietor of _Truth_, taught the paternal agent -how to work the oracle. The Prince of Wales is a corpulent, -good-natured son of Her Gracious Majesty who rules all the earth save -Ireland. He is ever open to the advances and blandishments of an -American woman, or African woman, or any sort of woman, provided she -is lovely; and being approached, he expressed his desire to know the -star of Columbia. "Now," said Labouchere, "having got that far, the -thing to startle England and capture Americans is for Mary to decline -an introduction on high moral and republican grounds." This was done, -and Great Britain was startled and the Yankee Doodles were captured. -She returned to her native land with an English troupe, and made -Yankee Doodle go wild. - -Now Mary is absolutely the worst actress ever sent sweeping from the -drawing-room to the footlights. Possessed of a tall, angular figure, -and blessed with a sonorous and in some respects pliable voice, she -has the fatal gift of imitation. No actor can win the highest honors -of his exalted profession who is a mimic. The actor capable of giving -expression to the thought of his author really assists that author in -the creation of a character. He or she is the creator. Now the mimic -is one who reproduces second-hand the work of others. We are cursed -with a traditionary assortment of characters that have come down to us -from the Kembles; and any one capable of filling what Shakspere or -Bacon or somebody called the rôle of "a poor player who struts and -frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more" can win -applause through mimicry, but never be great. We first saw Mary as Meg -Merrilies, and the reproduction of Cushman was something marvellous. -And so we have had it ever since. As Fechter said of Booth's Hamlet, -that "he played everybody's Hamlet but his own," so it may be said of -Miss Anderson, that she reproduces in an acceptable way the wearisome -line of old characters that have come to be stage properties. - -Mrs. James Brown Potter, who has been playing to New York and Brooklyn -audiences in Tom Taylor's heavy drama, "'Twixt Axe and Crown," shows -considerable improvement over her acting of one year ago, but she -chose a very inappropriate piece for her reappearance. Mrs. Potter -reads her lines very well, is a very beautiful woman, and possesses -that indispensable adjunct of the modern actress, a very handsome -wardrobe. But she is not fitted for the part of Lady Elizabeth, who in -her youthful prison exhibits the same wilful capriciousness and -headstrong pride that she afterwards showed on England's throne. Mr. -Kyrle Bellew as Edward Courtenay, the romantic lover of Elizabeth, -played his rôle quite well. Mrs. Potter is naturally better suited to -fragile, feminine, girlish parts than she is to the heroic, and there -is plenty of room for improvement; but she is painstaking, persistent, -and has time before her. - -Edward Harrigan's drama of "The Lorgaire," the only new play of the -month, is a passable sketch of Irish life. It is much more ingeniously -devised than any of his previous efforts in this line, and since it -was first put upon the stage has been much improved, many offensive -lines being eliminated. - -Adolph Müller's new comic opera, "The King's Fool," was first -witnessed by an American audience in Chicago at the Columbia Theatre -on Christmas Eve. Its scene is laid at the court of Pampeluna, and the -plot is the development of a conspiracy to secure the succession to -the throne, the rightful heir being brought up as a girl, the Salic -law forbidding the accession of females. The king's fool discovers the -imposition, the young prince regains his throne, and the conspirators -are punished. - -A very enjoyable selection of pieces has been put on the boards at -Daly's Theatre, including "The Lottery of Love," "Needles and Pins," -"She Would and She Wouldn't," and "Rehearsing a Tragedy." Ada Rehan -scored her usual successes. Daly's Theatre is one where the spectator -is always sure of a pleasant evening's entertainment. At the Standard -"Miss Esmeralda" replaced "Monte Cristo, Jr." The new play was in -every way brighter and wittier, and offered more opportunities to the -talents of Nellie Farren and the admirable Gaiety Company. Margaret -Mather in her repertoire produced at Niblo's Garden shows steady -improvement. She makes a lovely Juliet, but in the difficult part of -Peg Woffington she is a failure. The "Yeomen of the Guard" is -withdrawn from the Casino, not from any lack of popular favor, but -because Manager Aronson has been obliged by a contract to restore -"Nadjy" to the stage. Herr Junkermann has been giving several very -creditable presentations at the new Amberg Theatre, to the delight of -our German citizens. - -Most admirable, yet most difficult and incomplete, was the first -production in America of Wagner's "Rheingold" at the Metropolitan -Opera House early in January. The stage machinery was very -complicated, and the illusions were perfect. As the curtain rose the -depths of the Rhine waters appeared to fill the scene, the sun's -struggling rays caused the precious gold to gleam; and the three Rhine -maidens appointed by Wotan to watch it were seen gracefully swimming -about the treasure. From this novel opening to the close, when the -gods cross the rainbow bridge that leads to Walhalla, the scenery was -a marvel of spectacular effect, but it did not rise to the excellence -of the displays at the Bayreuth festivals. The orchestra was in best -form, and the singing was the best that has been presented this -season--much better, for instance, than in the previous performance of -"Siegfried," where Herr Alvary's voice showed signs of wear, and Emil -Fischer actually became hoarse before the close. - -"Faust," "The Huguenots," "L'Africaine," and "Fidelio" were among the -musical triumphs of the Metropolitan. Handel's "Messiah" was -beautifully given at the same theatre by the Oratorio Society, with -the Symphony Society's orchestra, under the direction of Walter -Damrosch; while concerts by the Boston Symphony orchestra, by Theodore -Thomas, and by Anton Seidl complete the list of delightful musical -entertainments of the season. - - - - -_REVIEWS._ - - -THE CLOVEN HOOF UNDER PETTICOATS: _The Quick or the Dead_; _Eros_; -_Miss Middleton's Lovers_.--The characteristic American novel of the -day might be described as an episode clothed in epigram. It is -commonly little more than an incident, slight as to plot, startling in -contrasts of light and shade, and too often avowedly immoral in -tone--a fragment of canvas, with ragged edges, cut at random from a -picture by Gérôme, with figures questionably suggestive, and volcanic -in color. It affects a myopic realism in details, not seldom of the -sort which, with non-committal suavity, we have agreed to call -"improper." It is nothing if not erotic. It deals with humanity from -the anatomist's standpoint, and describes, with insistence and -reiteration, the physical attributes of its characters, leaving the -spiritual to be inferred from their somewhat indefinite actions, and -that sort of mental sauntering which is termed analysis, for want of a -better name. It sets its women before you in the language of the -slave-market. It leaves no doubt in your mind that they are -female--female to a fault. "You could not help feeling in her presence -that she was a woman; the atmosphere was redolent with her. You never -so much as thought of her as a human being, a sentient, reasoning -personage like yourself. She was born to be a _woman_ solely, and she -fulfilled her destiny." "She was sensuous and voluptuous. You received -from her a powerful impression of sex." "She was a naked goddess--a -pagan goddess, and there was no help for it." Realistic this may -indeed be, but it is hardly chivalrous, or consistent with that -respect which well-bred and sound-hearted men feel, or, for the -convenience of social intercourse, affect to feel toward that half of -human nature to which the mothers, sisters, and wives of the race -belong. A woman must be philosophical indeed who can accept as a -flattering testimony to her personal graces such a phrase as "She is -the most appetizing thing I have seen." To be regarded in the light of -a veal cutlet may possess the charm of gastronomic reminiscence, but -as a metaphor it is scarcely poetic. - -In reading this class of fiction one is constrained to wonder what -these ingenious weavers of verbal tapestries would have done for plot -and incident--such as they are--had the Seventh Commandment been -eliminated from the Tables of the Law. It is a never-failing -well-spring, a Fortunatus' pocket, a theme more rich in variations -than the Carnival of Venice; and it is amazing as well as instructive -to the uninitiated to discover in how many original and striking ways -a wife may be unfaithful to her husband, and what startling and -dramatic situations may be evolved out of the indiscretions of a too -confiding society-girl. But even the unmentionable has limits: the -glacial smile of the nimblest ballet-dancer may lose somewhat of its -fascination in the course of time; and in the overheated atmosphere of -the "passionate" novel may lurk the faintest intimations of a yawn. - -The fact is, this multiform, many-worded element in current fiction is -not true passion at all. It is a theatrical presentation, often well -set and brilliantly costumed; but too frequently you see the paint and -hear the prompter calling forgotten cues from the wings. It is keen, -witty, cynical; but it is not real. It is daring, flippantly defiant, -paroxysmal, and redundant in explosive adjectives; but it is not true -to nature. It is as different from the genuine, living human emotion -as the impetuous, fervid, and unpremeditated love-making of a youth is -from the cold-blooded, carefully-rounded, and artificial gallantries -of an aged suitor. Real passion is always poetic; there is a delicacy -in its very vehemence, and if reprehensible from the moralist's point -of view, it is never contemptible. Simulated passion, on the other -hand, is always coarse and undignified--even when, as in the case with -many of these novels, expressed in graceful and smoothly-flowing -sentences; often absurd and flavored with covert cynicism, as if it -despised itself and its object. Actual passion is almost entirely -wanting in American fiction. The purer school of James and Howells -makes no pretence of it,--ignoring its existence in human nature, as -if men and women were sentient shapes of ice,--and wisely, too; for -though the lack of it in romance is a fatal defect, it is better than -a poor imitation. Nathaniel Hawthorne, that isolated giant, drew from -the mysterious depths of his own great soul almost the only example of -true passion in the literature of this country. "The Scarlet Letter" -towers aloft like the Olympian Jove among terra-cotta statuettes, -perhaps the noblest work of fiction ever written. Here is passion, -almost awful in its intensity; suppressed, confined; struggling like a -chained Titan, and at length breaking loose and overwhelming itself -beneath its own agony and despair--passion, beautiful with youth and -hope, star-eyed, crowned with amaranth and clad in blood-red garments; -led onward by his dark brothers, Sin and Death, in swift tumultuous -flight, toward his unknown goal in the land of eternal shadows. - -Compared with this lordly poem, the erotic novel of the day, with its -prurient platitudes, is as a satyr to Hyperion. Putting aside all -question of the moral law in the relation of the sexes, is there not -something foolishly undignified in these gasping, gurgling adjectives? -"Soul-scorching, flesh-melting flame of his eyes." "Flammeous breath, -sweeping her cheek, stirred her nature with a fierce, hungerous -yearning." "Ignescent passion." "Gloating upon her hungerly." "Gives -her whole body a comprehensive voluptuous twist." "All entangled in -her sweet sinuous embrace." "Languorously inviting."--But we pause -upon the verge of the unquotable, daunted, stifled, in this mephitic -atmosphere. - -This is called Realism!--this affected posturing, at which good-taste -veils the face to hide the smile of contempt or the blush of common -decency--these ale-house stories transplanted to the drawing-room! Is -there--_is_ there nothing in that love, whose very name lingers upon -the lips like a song--that love which has inspired all poetry, all -romance from the beginning of time; which has thrown down embattled -walls, taken strong cities, changed the boundaries of empires, -marshalled armed thousands upon memorable fields of blood; which in -every age has nerved men to great deeds and rewarded them for great -sacrifices; the sunrise hope of youth, the evening meditation of the -old, the spirit of home, the tender light which gleams about the -hearth-stone, the glory of the world;--is there nothing, then, in this -but the blind impulse which draws animal to animal--which attracts the -groping inhabitants of the mire and the shapeless swimming lumps of -the sea? If it be so, then thrice sacred is that art which has power -to throw a mist of glamour about this hideous reality, and make it -seem beautiful to our eyes! Far better the divine lie than such truth! -But it is _not_ true: for real love, even though it pass the pale of -the law, and real passion, though it tempt to sin, have about them -always an inexpugnable dignity; and if condemned, it is not with -laughter or disgust. - -The erotic in American fiction is a recent and exotic growth, not -native to the soil. It is therefore unhealthy and unwholesome. It is -out of place in this cold northern air. In its own climate it is a -gaudy flower; in this temperate zone it is a poisonous, spotted lily, -rank of smell and blistering to the touch. The licentiousness of -Théophile Gautier is elevated by the power of his transcendent genius -to the plane of true art. In America it sinks into a denizen of the -gutter. - -A remarkable feature of this noxious development is the prominent part -taken in it by women. It is somewhat startling to find upon the -title-page of a work whose cold, deliberate immorality and cynical -disregard of all social decency have set the teeth on edge, the name -of a woman as the author. We are so accustomed to associate modesty -of demeanor, delicacy of thought and word, and purity of life with -woman, that a certain set of adjectives, expressive of virtue and -morality, have come to include the idea of femininity in their -signification. It is certainly surprising, if not repellent, to find -women the most industrious laborers in the work of tearing down the -structure of honor and respect for their sex, which has so long been -regarded as the basis of social existence. If this breaking of the -holy images be but another manifestation of the revolt of women -against the too narrow limits of ancient prejudice, it is only -additional proof that misguided revolution easily becomes mere -anarchy. While the dispensation which would confine women to the -nursery and kitchen, and exclude them from broader fields of action, -is happily a dead letter, it is quite certain that no condition of -civilization, however liberal, will ever justify loose principles or -lax manners, or what is almost as reprehensible and much more -despicable, the cynicism which sneers at virtue while it prudently -keeps its own skirts unsoiled. But it is probable that the women who -write this kind of fiction are misled by vanity, rather than actuated -by evil impulses. They imagine that in thus throwing off all restraint -they are giving evidence of originality of thought and force of -character; whereas they are, in fact, courting unworthy suspicion and -winning only that sort of applause which is thinly veiled contempt. - -In America social licentiousness is not inherent as a national -characteristic, nor inherited from a profligate ancestry. Whatever his -practice may be, the ordinary American is theoretically moral. He -recognizes moral turpitude, at least to the extent of dreading -exposure of his own backslidings. If he break the law, he nevertheless -insists upon the sanctity of the law. In a word, the social atmosphere -is pure and wholesome, though perhaps a little chilly; and if anyone -happens to be the proprietor of a nuisance, he is very careful to keep -it well concealed from his neighbors, and neutralize the evil odor -with lavish sprinklings of perfumery. - -With us Licentiousness is not a gayly-clad reveller, a familiar figure -at feasts and pleasure parties, taking his share in the festivities, -dancing, laughing, and frisking as bravely as any. He is not a jovial -Bohemian, of too free life perhaps, but not half a bad fellow--a -careless, reckless, roaring blade. On the contrary, he is a dark, -shadowy, saturnine personage: a loiterer in lonely places, a lover of -the night, skulking around corners and hiding his face in a ready -mask. He dreads the law, for he knows that if detected his companions -of yesterday will bear witness against him to-day, and lend their aid -to set him in the stocks, to be jeered at by all the world. He is -thin-blooded and pale; he shudders at the sound of his own footsteps, -and shrinks from his own shadow. He knows no songs in praise of -Gillian and the wine-cup, and if he did he would never dare sing them. -He dresses in the seedy remains of a once respectable suit; he is an -outcast, a beggar, a vagabond, down at the heels and owned by nobody. -Altogether, he is as miserable and forlorn a wretch as one would care -to see, and his _alter ego_ is hypocrisy. - -For this reason the licentious in American literature is and must be -cold, artificial, and repugnant. The erotic becomes mere bald -immorality, without grace, gayety, color, or warmth to lend it dignity -or render it tolerable. In the opulent, fervid period of the -Renaissance, art was born of passion and inspired by it to greatness. -The erotic was a legitimate element of all works of the imagination, -because it was a part of the social life of the day, and because, -being genuine, it could be made beautiful. When, after the Revolution -in England and the spread of Calvinism on the Continent, the minds and -manners of men were brought under closer restraint, licentiousness in -art began to be no longer natural and spontaneous, and therefore no -longer legitimate, until in the last century it degenerated into -simple indecency. When the erotic ceased to be quite as much a matter -of course, in fiction or poetry, as hatred, jealousy, or revenge, and -the reader learned to pass it over with a frown or pick it out with a -relish, according to his natural disgust of or morbid craving for the -impure, it became a blemish. It was no longer real, but an indecent -imitation. Compare "Romeo and Juliet," that divine poem of passion, -with the abominations of Waters and Rochester, popular in their day, -but now happily forgotten, or even Wycherly, not yet quite forgotten, -and mark how wide the difference between the true and the false, the -natural and the unnatural. - -To-day, in America at least, the physical is subordinate to the -spiritual. The mind is master, and the body in its bondage, if not -enfeebled, has at least become trained to passive obedience. All -impulses are submitted to the severe scrutiny of reason. Categories of -right and wrong, or perhaps the politic and the impolitic, are -strictly adhered to. Caution is largely in the ascendant. The world's -opinion is an ever-present restraining element. All these are results, -or at any rate concomitants of a loftier civilization. A society -guided by moral and intellectual forces is unquestionably upon higher -ground than one dominated by the physical. The world is, moreover, a -more comfortable place to live in than it used to be when, on account -of the color of the feather in one's hat, one must unsheathe and go at -it, hammer and tongs, to save one's skin. - -Passion does still exist in the human heart, but it is restrained and -modified by the necessities and conditions of the social life of the -day. To be a fit element of fiction it must be depicted in its -nineteenth-century guise--in other words, decently. To be a truthful -picture it can be depicted in no other way. To exhibit it posturing, -writhing, and gasping in mere hysteria is to lower it beneath the -standard of wholesome and worthy art. License without love, and -immorality without passion, are as unpardonable in a novel as they are -in human nature. - - -_Political Oratory of Emery A. Storrs_, by Isaac E. Adams (Belford, -Clarke & Co.).--The compiler of Mr. Storrs's political speeches begins -his introductory chapter with some questionable generalizations which -are belittling and somewhat unjust to the large class of true orators -to which his hero belongs. He says: "Few examples of political oratory -have been embalmed in literature. Men, too, remembered for oratorical -power are easily reckoned, and tower conspicuously along the shores of -time. There was once a Demosthenes, once a Cicero, once a Burke. The -time will come when, looking back upon the centuries of American -history, it will be said there was, also, once a Webster and once a -Lincoln." - -We must be permitted to observe that the line cannot be clearly drawn -between political and other oratory. In a broad sense, all the great -orators known to history have been political orators, because they -gained their fame chiefly in discussing the great and absorbing public -questions of their day. - -To these belongs Emery A. Storrs. Let a few extracts from this volume -of speeches suffice to show the style of his oratory. At Chicago, in -the darkest hours of our civil war, he said: "I have no doubt but that -this, the most wicked rebellion that ever blackened the annals of -history, will be ground to powder. I have no doubt but that our -national integrity will be preserved. I have no doubt but that the -union of these States will be restored, and that the nation will -emerge from the fiery trial through which it has passed, brighter and -better and stronger than it has ever been before. It would be -impossible, however, that a conflict mighty as that from which we are -now, I trust, emerging should not leave its deep and permanent impress -upon our future national character. It will give tone to our politics, -our literature, and our feelings as a people, for ages to come." - -At Cleveland, in the campaign of 1880, he said: "Have you seen any -trouble with the pillars of the government? The trouble was not with -the pillars--they did not rock; the trouble was with the gentlemen who -were looking at the pillars of the government. They were like the -gentleman who had been attending a lecture on astronomy. Going home -loaded with a great deal of Democratic logic, with a step weary and -uncertain, with the earth revolving a great many times upon its axis, -he affectionately clasped a lamp-post and said, 'Old Galileo was right -about it: the world does move.'" - -The logic of Mr. Storrs's speeches on war topics, which were immensely -popular, is embraced in the single sentence: "I think there can be -nothing more suicidal than to intrust into the hands of these men, who -sought the destruction of our national life, the direction of our -national interests." - -Hence the convenient 300-page volume under review will be valuable to -political speakers and writers who want their party zeal warmed up by -the earnest appeals of an impassioned, conscientious, and clear-minded -orator. The diction of Mr. Storrs is admirable, his language is almost -always felicitous, and in his logic there is a happy blending of grace -and force. If his range was not wide, he was always able to -concentrate learning and ability enough on any given occasion to show -a masterful oratorical power over immense masses of men. - - - - -A STORM ASHORE.[5] BY JAMES H. CONNELLY. - - -I. - -WHERE THE DEED WAS DONE. - -Three quarters of a century ago, when Sag Harbor was an important -whaling port, and before railroads were even dreamed of on that remote -part of Long Island, there were dotted along the eastern shore only a -few quaint little villages, already old, with a small population -scattered in their vicinity, consisting almost entirely of a hardy -race, who, though professedly cultivators of the soil, in reality drew -most of their subsistence from arduous and often perilous toil upon -the sea. Among the curiously inscribed tombstones in the graveyards, -where even then six generations were lying, were not at all unfrequent -those that bore the legend "killed by a whale." Of the younger men in -the community, there were few who did not aspire to go abroad as -whalers, and their elders, though settled agriculturists nominally, or -even petty tradesmen, had generally "been a-whaling," loved to spin -yarns about their cruises, and were still more than semi-nautical in -speech, manners, and industries. They naturally spoke of "the bow" of -a horse, or his "port-quarter," as occasion might require; belonged to -shore whaling companies; fished for the New York market to a limited -extent, and perhaps did some smuggling; as shore-living people, in -those days, generally seemed to think they had an inherent right to. -In their little "sitting-rooms" were many curious and interesting -things, brought from far distant lands, such as broad branches of fan -coral, stuffed birds of brilliant plumage, strange shells and sperm -whales' teeth adorned with queer rude pictures scratched upon them by -sailors whose thoughts of loved ones at home had prompted them to such -artistic endeavor. - -Between the villages were long reaches of woodland, or perhaps it -would be more correct to say thicket--broken here and there, where the -sandy soil seemed to give most promise, by tilled fields. Fierce -gales, through the long hard winter months, dealt cruelly with the -scrubby cedars and knotty little oaks in those woods, gnarling their -boughs, twisting their trunks, and stunting their growth, so that not -all the genial breath of spring, nor the ardent summer's sun could -quite repair the damage wrought them in the season of ice and storm. -But the hardy trees stood close together, as if seeking support and -consolation from each other in their hours of trial, when they creaked -and ground complaint to one another; so close that their interlaced -foliage kept always damp the leaf-strewn ground beneath, where the -fragrant trailing arbutus bloomed in earliest spring, and the tangled -whortleberry bushes later bore their clusters of bluish-purple fruit. -Here and there the dwarfed forest sloped gently down to broad expanses -of salt meadow, where snipe and plover found their favorite feeding -grounds among the rank rushes and long grass, or the soft marshy -slime, except when the full moon tides came rushing through the little -inlets between the white round sand dunes on the beach and, whelming -the lowland, snatched brown-leaf trophies from the very edges of the -wood. On the knolls between these meadows were favorite places for the -location of the homes of the earlier settlers, among whom were the Van -Deusts. - -The Van Deust homestead was one of the oldest dwellings on that -portion of the island, and those who at this time inhabited it were -the direct descendants of other Van Deusts, whose remote existence and -remarkable longevity were alike attested by the quaintly graven -tombstones in the ancient graveyard of the village, a mile away. - -It was a rambling one-story house, built of small logs covered with -boards now warped and rusty from age, but both roomy and comfortable -as well as picturesque. Those by whom it was erected loved better the -sea than the land, for they had not only sought out this, the most -commanding site they could obtain for its location, but had turned its -back upon the forest and the lane, and reared its broad porch upon the -side facing the ocean. Here, in the ample shade, the two old bachelor -brothers, its present occupants, inheriting as well the feeling as the -property of their ancestors, loved to linger. The ceaseless roar of -the waves was in their ears a wild tumultuous music, and their eyes -were never weary of the ever-changing beauty and glory of the world of -billows, blushing with the dawn, laughing with the noon, and frowning -beneath storm and night. Three broad and rugged elm trees shaded the -porch, and one gable of the house was rasped by the boughs of the -nearest tree of a thickly grown and badly cared for little orchard. -Bats and swallows flitted undisturbed in the summer evenings to and -from the low loft of the old homestead, through its various chinks and -refts; native song-birds build their nests and reared their young -under the eaves, and in the swinging branches of the venerable elms; -bees buzzed among the thick honeysuckle, and clematis vines that -twined about the pillar of the porch, and threw their long sprays in -flowery festoons between; and when the busy hum of those industrious -little toilers ceased at nightfall, the crickets' cheery chirp, from -among the rough stones of the old-fashioned fireplace within, took up -the refrain of insect melody. Neither insect, bird, nor beast feared -the two kindly old men who inhabited that home. One of the brothers -loved all living things, and was at peace with all, and the other was -like unto him, with the sole exception that he liked not women, nor -was willing to be at peace with them. Yet he had never been married! - -Peter, the elder by a couple of years, was the woman hater, and to -such an extent did he carry his antipathy toward the sex, that he -would tolerate no other female servant about the house than old black -Betsy, who was the daughter of a couple of slaves his grandfather had -owned, and who thoroughly considered herself one of the family, as -indeed her indulgent masters regarded her. The three old people -occupied the house alone. Brother Jacob once hinted to Peter that -perhaps it might be as well to get a young woman to assist old Betsy -in her work, and his so doing brought on what was more like a quarrel -between him and Peter than anything that had disturbed the monotony of -their uneventful lives up to that time. A compromise was finally -effected, by virtue of which a neighbor was engaged to come over for a -couple of hours daily to do such chores about the house as the -brothers felt beyond their strength, and to bring his wife along on -Tuesdays to do the week's washing and scrubbing. But on Tuesdays Peter -always went a-fishing, regardless of the weather, and was gone all -day, so avoiding sight of the neighbor's wife. Whatever the secret -cause for his bitter and contemptuous aversion to women may have been, -he kept it to himself. That they were fair to look upon, he denied -not. "But," said he, "they are wrecker lights, and the truer and -better a man is, the brighter they shine to lure him to the breakers. -And look at yourself, Jacob," he would add, when his brother ventured -to mildly expostulate against the vigor of his denunciations of the -sex; whereupon Jacob would turn away with a sigh, and the discussion -would be at an end. - -Back of the house a narrow lane, bordered by a neglected garden and a -cornfield beyond, led out to the distant highway. The Van Deust -brothers were not poor, as the humble style of their home might seem -to indicate; indeed they had the reputation, in all the country -around, of being wealthy, and were, at least, well off. The neglect -and indifference of age in its owners was the sole cause that the -surroundings of the old homestead, which might easily have been made -charming, presented such a picture of disorder and decay. - -Up the little lane, at a very early hour one bright summer morning, -two men might have been seen, driving in a light gig, approaching the -Van Deust mansion. One of them was a stout, ruddy-faced gentleman, of -fifty, or thereabouts, known to everybody in the county as Squire -Bodley. His companion, who held the reins, was a handsome young fellow -of twenty-four or twenty-five years, rustic in personal appearance and -garb, with a good frank open countenance that bore a pleasing -expression of intelligence and good nature. - -"Of course it's only a form, my going to be your security," said the -older man, as they jogged along, "for the Van Deusts know you as well -as I do, and knew your father, Dave Pawlett, before you, and a good -man he was. But still, Lem, I don't know any young fellow in all the -country round about that I'd take more pleasure in serving, even in a -matter of form, than you." - -"Thank you, sir," replied the young man warmly, with a grateful flush -upon his sun-burnt cheeks. "It's very kind of you, I'm sure, and I -can't tell you how much I feel it so. You know I want the lease of -that lower farm, but you don't know how almightily much I want it; and -nobody does but me and--one other person, perhaps." - -"Aha!" responded the Squire, with a chuckle, "I can make a guess about -who the other person is. And some day you and that other person will -be coming to me for a little business in my line, I reckon,--a sort of -mutual life lease, eh?" - -"Well, maybe so, Squire. I hope so," answered Lem, confusedly, and -with a little deeper flush, "But here we are at the gate. Wait a -moment, while I jibe the bow wheels and make the horse fast." - -As he spoke, he jumped lightly out of the vehicle, turned the horse a -little to one side, so as to make the descent of his companion more -convenient, and, after hitching the reins to a fence-post, accompanied -the Squire to the door of the house. There was no sound, or sign, as -yet, of any of the inmates of the old homestead being astir. - -"Well, they must be late risers here," soliloquized the Squire, as Lem -rapped and called at the door. - -At the end of a few minutes, a voice answered indistinctly from -within: "Who's there? What d'ye want?" And almost immediately after, -the shutters on the window of a little extension of the house, at the -end farthest from the orchard, were pushed open, and the head of an -aged black woman appeared with the echoing query, "Who dah? Wha' dy'e -wan'?" - -"It's me--Squire Bodley," responded that gentleman, answering the -first inquirer. - -Presently the door opened and Peter Van Deust appeared in it; a -weazened, thin little man, with a fringe of gray hair surrounding a -big white bald place on the top of his head, with a well-formed nose -and eyes still bright enough to suggest that he had been a -good-looking young fellow in his day; with lips that quivered, and -long lean fingers that trembled with the weakness of old age; but, -withal, a pleasant smile and a cheery ring, even yet, in his cracked -old voice. - -"Why, Squire!" he exclaimed, as he threw open the door, "I'm real glad -to see you. And Lem! You, too? Well, this is a pleasant surprise-party -for us early in the morning!" - -"It's not so very early, Peter," answered the Squire. "It is almost -seven o'clock." - -"Is that so? Well, I declare! I wonder why Jacob isn't up. He's mostly -an early riser, and as he's the boy amongst us, why we old -folks--Betsy and me--rely on him to wake us up in the mornings. Old -people, you know, get back to being like babies again for wanting -their good sleep. But Jacob has overslept himself this morning, sure. -I'll soon roust him out, though." - -As he spoke he went to a closed door at one side of the central -sitting-room, which was flanked by the separate apartments of the -brothers, and pounding upon it with his bony knuckles, called: - -"Come, Jacob, bounce out, boy! You're late! It's breakfast time, and -we've got visitors. Get up!" - -There was no answering sound from within. He waited a moment, then -knocked again, shouting: "Hello, Jacob! Jake! I say, get up! What' the -matter with you?" - -Still there was no response. The three men waiting, held their breath -to listen, and a vague sense of uneasiness crept over them. The songs -of the blue-birds, and the chirp of the martens; the humming of the -bees; the stamping of the horse hitched to the gig, and the clatter -old Betsy made in opening her door, were all sharply distinct in the -quiet summer morning air; but from the closed room there was no sound -whatever. Peter tried the door, but it did not yield. - -"He's locked his door!" exclaimed the old man, with an intonation of -surprise in his voice. - -"Maybe something has happened to him," suggested Lem. - -"What could happen to him? He was all right last night; never better -in his life. And he's younger than me. But it's queer he should have -locked his door. He don't mostly." He continued rapping and shouting -"Jacob, wake up!" in a more and more anxious tone. - -"The key isn't in the keyhole, I guess," he muttered half to himself, -fumbling at the lock with a bit of stick he picked up from the floor, -"but," stooping down and trying to peer through, "I can't see -anything, because it's all dark inside." - -"Haven't you some other key about the house that will fit the lock?" -asked the Squire. - -"Yes. Mine does, I guess. But I didn't think of it at first. I'll try -it." - -It fitted: the bolt was thrown back, and the door pushed open. The -sunshine darted in and fell, broad and clear, upon a still and ghastly -thing that laid in the middle of the floor--the corpse of an old man, -surrounded by a pool of blood. - -Peter gave a wild cry of horror, and fell back senseless into the arms -of Lem Pawlett, who was close behind him. They laid him on the old -hair-cloth sofa in the sitting-room, called Betsy to attend to him, -and then passed into the chamber he had opened. - -Murder had been done. Jacob Van Deust's skull had been beaten in by -some heavy instrument. One terrible crushing blow had mashed in his -left temple, and let out his little weak old life; but, as if for very -lust of killing the assassin had struck again and again, and the skull -was fractured in several places. The old man, it appeared, had risen -from his bed to meet his murderer, and had been struck down before he -could utter a cry of alarm. The window curtains were down, so that the -room was as yet only lighted from the door; but when those in front -were opened, and a flood of sunlight poured in, there were no -evidences apparent that there had been any struggle between the slayer -and his victim, nor were there at once visible any indications that -robbery, the only cause readily conceivable for the brutal murder of -such an inoffensive old man, had been the purpose instigating the -crime. The contents of the bureau drawers were much tumbled and -disordered, but it was presumable that they were so usually, through -the careless habits of the occupant of the apartment. There were no -marks of blood upon anything they contained, but it was evident that -the murderer had made some attempt at least to wipe his crimsoned -hands upon the old man's shirt after killing him, and that was -probably before he searched the bureau, if indeed he had troubled -himself to ransack it at all. On one pillow of the bed they found the -mark of a bloody hand. Perhaps the assassin was in such haste for -plunder that he groped where the old man's head had lain before -thinking of his bloody hand. Beyond that nothing appeared to them to -show that robbery had been done. - -But when Peter Van Deust had sufficiently recovered to be able to -speak coherently, he said that his brother habitually kept, somewhere -in his room, a wallet containing something over three thousand -dollars, and a bag of coin; how much he did not know. These were -nowhere to be found. - -Lem Pawlett was hastily dispatched by the Squire, soon after the -discovery of the crime, to summon some near neighbors; and as he drove -rapidly along the road, shouting to every person he saw--"Jacob Van -Deust has been murdered!"--it was but a very little while before a -dozen or more men were assembled at the scene of the crime. They were -all innocent, simple-minded folks, who had never seen a murdered man -before, had even been a little skeptical that such an awful thing as -murder was ever really done, except in the big cities where extreme -wickedness was naturally to be expected, and were actually stunned by -the shock of finding themselves in the presence of the evidences of -the perpetration of such a deed. From them, of course, no aid in -finding a clue to the perpetrator of the crime, or divining its real -motive, could have been expected. Yet every man of them was wise in -his own conceit, and among them were furtively exchanged whispers of -such hideous significance that the Squire, when they reached his ears, -felt himself compelled to take notice of and reply to them. - -"The old men have been all the time quarrelling for two months past," -said one to another. - -"Yes," replied he who was addressed. "I've heard 'em myself, cussing -each other over the fortune that was left them." - -"Sam Folsom," added a third, "told me that he'd heard that Peter had -threatened to knock Jake's head off more than once." - -"Oh! I've heard that myself," chimed in another. "And I did hear that -they'd had a regular fight and Jake got the best of it." - -"It's awful that two old men like them, on the edge of the grave, as -you may say, and brothers at that, should quarrel about money." - -"And one for to go and kill the other." - -At this point the Squire, who had overheard much of the preceding -conversation, interposed: "How do you know," he demanded abruptly, -turning on the last speaker, "who killed him?" - -"Well, I dunno exactly, of course," whined the fellow, hesitatingly, -"but it looks mighty like it." - -"Ah! And that pimpled nose of yours, Rufe Stevens, looks mightily like -you were a hard drinker; but you are ready to take your Bible oath -it's nothing but bad humors in your blood." - -There were a few suppressed chuckles at the Squire's retort from those -in the vicinity--for men will laugh even at the smallest things, and -in the very presence of the King of Terrors--and Rufe moved away, -muttering indistinctly. But the Squire's interference and -well-intended reproof had only a momentary effect in diverting the -attention of the neighbors from the evil bent of suspicion their minds -had taken; and they continued exchanging, and possibly augmenting, the -rumors they had heard of differences between the Van Deust brothers, -until the sentiment was general among them that Peter Van Deust should -be at once arrested for the murder of his brother. - - -II. - -ON INFORMATION AND BELIEF. - -That the reader may be properly informed of certain antecedent events -which, as will hereafter be seen, were intimately connected with, and -indeed leading directly to the murder of Jacob Van Deust, it will be -necessary for us to make a brief retrogression in our narrative and to -introduce various other members of that little seaside community who -bore their several important parts in the eventful drama of real life -here in progress of recital. - -Near the close of a day in earliest spring, when the sun, that had not -yet sufficient power to melt the lingering patches of snow that still -laid here and there among the thickets and on northern slopes, was -throwing its last red rays upon the lowering, leaden-tinted masses of -the western sky, two young girls wandered, with their arms about each -other's waists, in the shadows of the woods not far distant from the -village of Easthampton. One of them, somewhat above the medium height -of women, possessed a slender and graceful figure, and a face that, -seen under the large, crimson-lined hood of the cloak with which her -head was covered, appeared almost pure Grecian in its regularity of -feature and delicacy of outline. Her complexion was pale, but the -clear roseate flush of her cheeks, and the brilliancy of youth and -health sparkling in her eyes, demonstrated sufficiently that that -pallidity was simply the added charm with which kindly nature at times -enhances the loveliness of the most beautiful brunettes. The sentiment -expressed by her countenance was serious and earnest, but not sad, for -a faint smile, like the blossoming of some sweet hope, rested upon her -small red lips. Her companion, who seemed to be of about the same -age--not more than eighteen or nineteen years--was of a different -mould; possibly less beautiful, but hardly less bewitching. She was -somewhat shorter of stature and rounder of form, with a face in which -vivacity and determination were happily blended. Her laughing lips -were red and full, a merry mischievous light danced in her blue eyes, -and her hood thrown back upon her neck, left bare a round head covered -with a wavy wealth of brown hair. - -"Now, Mary," said the brown-haired maid, bending forward and looking -up archly in the face of her friend, "let us drop this nonsense of -pretending to look for trailing arbutus, when you know, just as well -as I do, that it will be a week, if not two, before there will be a -sprig of it in bloom; and I know, just as well as you do, that you -called me out for this walk to tell me something about Dorn Hackett, -and for nothing else. Isn't that so, now?" - -"Yes, you sharp little thing. You have guessed rightly, as usual. I -have received another letter from Dorn." - -"A letter from Dorn? The first for over a year, isn't it?" - -"Yes." - -"Well, dear, it must seem almost like getting one from a stranger." - -"Whalers have so few chances to write home." - -"He has been gone a great while, hasn't he?" - -"It seems so to me, I confess. And three years really is a long time, -isn't it?" - -"Dear me, yes. I wouldn't let Lem go away from me that way. Who knows -but what he might marry somebody else while he was gone? Have you -never been afraid that Dorn would?" - -"Oh, no, Ruth. Never. He loves me too well for that, I know." - -"And you felt just as sure of that when you did not hear from him for -nearly two years?" - -"Yes," replied Mary, with a little hesitation, however: "for I know -the girl whose lover goes a-whaling must have patience; and I have -heard Uncle Thatcher tell a good deal about the countries to which the -whalers go, and I hardly think--" - -"That he would be likely to meet anybody there who would be able to -cut you out. Well, there's some comfort in that reflection, anyway. -But the letter! What does he say for himself?" - -"That he is coming home, Ruth; coming home at last. He is on the way -now. A fast sailing packet-ship brought the letter on ahead, and he -supposed that he would arrive a couple of weeks after I received it." - -"And when he comes you'll get married?" - -"I--hope so," replied Mary, in a little lower tone and with tears -gathering in her eyes. "But you know we are poor; and besides, Uncle -Thatcher--" - -"That, for Uncle Thatcher," exclaimed little Ruth, snapping her -fingers defiantly. "What has he to say about whom you shall marry? -That is a matter which concerns nobody but you and Dorn." - -"My mother, when she was dying in the big city, leaving me all alone, -put me in his charge, you know." - -"Well, what of it? It would be as much as I'd do to let my father and -mother interfere with my marrying any nice young man I liked, and I -don't believe parents can transfer that right--if it is a right--to -anybody. Uncle Thatcher, indeed!" she ejaculated scornfully, with a -toss of her little resolute round head. "What does he want you to do, -anyway? To live and die an old maid, to please him?" - -"No, I have been ashamed to tell anybody heretofore--even you, -Ruth--but he wants me to marry Cousin Silas." - -"That ugly, good-for-nothing cub of his?" - -"Yes; Silas asked me to once, and when I refused him, said that I was -only a pauper living on his father's charity, and threatened to tell -such stories about me that nobody else would have me. He hurt and -frightened me terribly, and Dorn found me in the woods crying about -it. In the fullness of my heart I told him all. I couldn't keep it to -myself when he asked me why I cried. And do you know what he did? He -went right off and gave Silas such an awful pounding that he was laid -up for two weeks." - -"Good! I like Dorn Hackett better than I ever did before. That's just -what I should expect of Lem in such a case." - -"That was the time Silas was reported to be so sick, just before Dorn -went away. He never dared to talk about me as he said he would, I -guess, but as soon as he got well went right off to New York. Uncle -Thatcher blamed Dorn for hurting Silas, and has hated the thought of -him ever since. And oh, Ruth! you don't know what I've had to suffer -from Aunt Thatcher!" - -"Now you just take my advice and put your back right up at her; and as -soon as Dorn comes home, you two go right off and get married, and if -Uncle Thatcher tries to interfere, have Dorn pound him, too--worse -than he did Silas." - -Mary smiled through her tears and replied: "Dorn says he has done well -and talks about buying a share in a coasting schooner--and a -house--and--furniture--and I think he said something about getting -married right away." - -In sympathetic exuberance of joy the two girls embraced and kissed -each other, Ruth exclaiming: - -"And we'll get married on the same day, won't we? And in spite of -Uncle Thatcher, or anybody else, Mary Wallace will be Mrs. Dorman -Hackett, and Ruth Lenox will be Mrs. Lemuel Pawlett. But I wish Lem's -name didn't rhyme with 'pullet' and 'gullet.'" - -The two charming young friends were so busy with their theme that not -until they were close before him, in the little bridle path through -which they wandered, did they notice the presence of a third person: a -smoothly-shaven, little, elderly gentleman, primly dressed in black -and wearing a band of crape upon his tall silk hat. He was upon -horseback, sitting silent and motionless. He had seen the girls slowly -strolling toward him, waited until they almost collided with his -horse's nose and had executed a little concerted scream of surprise, -and then addressed them in a slow, measured and precise manner, -saying: - -"I am endeavoring to find the residence, or residences, of two persons -known as Peter and Jacob Van Deust, supposed to be brothers, who, -according to my present information and belief, reside somewhere in -this vicinity. Can either of you young ladies direct me definitely -upon my way, and if able, will you be so kind as to do so?" - -"Follow the path you are on," answered Ruth, "until you enter the main -road; turn to your right about a quarter of a mile, then go up a lane -that you will see on your left--the first that has an elm tree on each -side of its entrance--and it will lead you straight up to the Van -Deust homestead." - -"I am very much obliged to you for your apparent courtesy and the -seeming accuracy of the details of your information," responded the -little gentleman, with grave deliberation, bending almost to the -horse's mane as he spoke. Then straightening himself, and shaking the -reins, he urged his steed into a gentle trot and soon disappeared in -the gathering evening shades at a bend of the path. - -"'Supposed to be brothers'--indeed!" exclaimed Ruth, when he was out -of sight. "I'm sure their faces will afford him sufficient -'information and belief' on that score when he sees them." - - -III. - -A GOLDEN RAIN. - -The Van Deust brothers sat smoking their pipes in the twilight on the -wide porch of the old homestead overlooking the sea. - -"I met Thatcher to-day when I was over at the village," said the -younger brother, Jacob, "and he wanted to put the ten acre lot in corn -on shares." - -"Well," responded Peter, "I suppose he might as well have it as -anybody. Somebody will have to work it. We are getting too old, Jacob, -for ploughing and such-like hard toil ourselves, and a third will be -all we'll want. What did you tell him?" - -"I didn't give him any definite answer. I wish somebody else would -offer to take the lot. I don't like that Thatcher." - -"Why?" - -"He is a hard, severe-looking old fellow, and I'm sure he treats that -pretty niece of his badly." - -"Oh! He does, eh? And now, Jacob, what the mischief is that to you? -And what has it to do with his putting the ten-acre lot in corn on -shares?" - -"I've seen her crying." - -"Bah! Girls are always crying. They like it. They do it for practice." - -"Peter, you'd kick a boy for throwing stones at a wild bird, wouldn't -you?" - -"That's another matter. Birds are birds, and they're God's creatures; -but women are the devil's creatures, and you'll never see Peter Van -Deust trouble himself to lift his foot to a boy that throws stones at -them. If the girl don't like the treatment her uncle gives her, I -suppose she can find some fellow fool enough to marry her. 'Most any -of 'em can do that." - -"Peter, you shouldn't talk that way. A poor girl has her feelings -about marrying where her liking goes, just as much as a man has." - -"Yah!" snarled Peter, contemptuously, vigorously puffing his pipe, and -for some minutes both men were silent. The younger of the two sank -into a reverie, and awoke from it with a start, when his brother -resumed the conversation, saying: - -"I tell you what it is, Jacob. You were spooney on Mary Wallace's -mother forty years ago, and I'm blessed if I think you have got over -it yet. She threw you overboard then, not for a better looking -man--for you were a fine, trim, sailor-built young fellow in those -days--but for a richer one. She thought--" - -"No, no, Peter! No, no! Don't say that! Don't say that! She didn't -want to marry Wallace. I know she didn't. But her father and mother -compelled her to it. She loved me best, I know she did. But you are -right in saying I haven't got over it, Peter. I never shall. I'll love -her just the same still, if I meet her in heaven. And when I see -Mary's sweet young face, the love that is in my heart for her mother's -memory cries out like a voice from the grave of all my hopes and joys, -and I can hardly keep from taking poor Lottie's child in my arms and -weeping over her." - -"Which, if you were to do, she would think you were crazy, and right -she would be," commented Peter, snarlingly. - -"Hello!" sounded shortly, in a sharp wiry voice, from the little lane -at the back of the house. - -Peter, rising from his bench and going to the end of the porch, -replied with a sailor-like "Aye, aye, sir," to the hail of the -stranger, who was none other than the little elderly gentleman already -encountered by Ruth and Mary in the woods. Without dismounting, the -visitor asked, in a slow and cautious manner, - -"Am I justified in presuming that I am upon the premises of the -parties known as Peter and Jacob Van Deust?" - -"This is where we live," replied Peter, a little puzzled by the -stranger's manner. - -"Pardon me, sir, but your reply is not an answer to my question. Am I -to understand that you are one of the said parties?" - -"I'm Peter, and this is Jacob," responded the elder brother, pointing -with the stem of his pipe at the younger. "But come alongside before -you get off any more of that lingo." - -Methodically and carefully the rider dismounted, fastened his nag to -the fence, and pushing open the little gate, stepped upon the low -porch-floor, where, after an elaborate bow to each of the brothers -separately, he continued: - -"Assuming your affirmation to be correct and capable of substantiation -by documentary evidence, and believing that you are, as you represent -yourselves--or, rather, as one of you has represented--Peter and Jacob -Van Deust, permit me, gentlemen, to have the pleasure of offering you -my congratulations." - -So saying, he raised his tall hat with old-time courtesy, repeated his -bows to the brothers severally, and replaced his beaver with such -exactitude that not a hair of his nicely-brushed wig was disarranged. - -"Congratulations upon what? Upon being Peter and Jacob Van Deust?" -demanded Peter, who began to look upon his visitor as a probably -harmless lunatic. - -"Naturally, sir. For reasons which you shall presently apprehend. Have -you, or have you had, sir, to your knowledge, an uncle named Dietrich -Van Deust?" - -"Yes. It was Uncle Dietrich who went away to the Indies when we were -boys, wasn't it, Peter?" said the younger brother. - -"Yes, and settled somewhere there; I forget where. Batavia, I think, -was the name of the place; but I ain't sure, for it is an age since I -heard from him." - -"Your remembrance is correct, nevertheless, sir," responded the -stranger. "It was in Batavia that he took up his residence, and in -Batavia that he died, at an advanced age, an old bachelor, possessed -of large wealth, as I have been given to understand; and I offer my -congratulations to you, gentlemen, for the reason that you are his -fortunate heirs to the extent of one hundred thousand dollars." - -The mere mention of that stupendous sum, as it seemed to them, fairly, -stunned the two simple-minded old men who received this intelligence. - -"Oh, Peter! It can't be there's so much money," gasped Jacob. - -"Let me turn it over in my mind. Take a seat, sir," said Peter, -pushing forward a stool for the visitor, reseating himself on his -bench and slowly rubbing his forehead. Jacob went out to put away the -little gentleman's horse, and while he was gone Peter relighted his -pipe and smoked in silence. When the younger brother returned, the -visitor resumed the conversation. - -"My name," said he, "is Pelatiah Holden, and my profession that of -counsellor-at-law. Here is my card," presenting one to each of the Van -Deusts, and then continuing: "Four months and fourteen days since, I -received from the firm of Van Gulden & Dropp, of Amsterdam, Holland, -information to the effect that a client of theirs named William Van -Deust was joint heir in the estate of Dietrich Van Deust, deceased, of -Batavia; and they desired me, in order to facilitate the partition of -the estate, to discover two other heirs, nephews of the deceased -Dietrich Van Deust, named respectively Peter and Jacob Van Deust, sons -of Jan Van Deust. - -"That was father's name," interpolated Jacob in an undertone. - -"As I have been already informed, sir, and do not doubt your ability -to establish by legal proof," replied Mr. Holden, bowing gravely to -him and going on with his narration. "Since that time, until three -weeks ago, I have been seeking you, and it has only been during four -days past that I have been satisfied that your claim to be the sons of -Jan Van Deust, and nephews of Dietrich--and consequently inheritors -under the will of the latter--could be legally established. Hence the -apparent delay. But you will perceive, gentlemen, from my explanation, -that I have notified you of the gratifying fact of the bequest, at the -earliest practicable and proper moment." - -Peter nodded silently, not having yet completed, seemingly, the -serious task of "turning it over in his mind." But Jacob effusively -stammered: - -"Oh, we were not in any hurry, sir." - -The lawyer resumed, speaking with the deliberate precision of one who -reads an indictment: "Under the terms of the will, you are to enjoy -this inheritance jointly while you both live, and expend it all, if -you please, but by mutual consent. And should any of it remain at the -time of the demise of either of you, it must descend to the survivor, -untrammelled by any right of bequest on the part of the first -decedent. And no contract, bargain, agreement, stipulation, or -understanding whatever between you, concerning its disposal shall be -made, by which the one surviving may be bound, or influenced in its -administration; and to the fact that he is in no wise so bound, the -survivor must make oath when entering into sole possession, else the -sum so remaining must lapse to residuary legatees belonging to a -remote branch of your family in Holland. What your uncle's intentions -may have been in framing his will in this unusual manner, I do not -pretend to say; nor is it, indeed, my province to inquire; but the -facts are--as I know from an attested copy of the will in my -possession--as I have had the honor of presenting them to you. And -now, gentlemen, permit me to renew my congratulations and express the -hope that you may long be joint possessors of this handsome -inheritance." - - -IV. - -TRUE LOVE. - - "The winds are fair, the sky is bright, - The sails are drawing free, - And loud I sing, my heart is light, - My loves returns to me. - - To the no'nothe east and the sou'sou' west, - And every other way, - He's sailed from the girl that loved him best, - But he comes back to-day. - - "Land ho!" "Land ho!" - "Land on the starboard bow!" - "Land ho!" "Land ho!" - He's in the offing now. - - The nights were dark, the days were drear, - When he was on the deep, - Now night is gone, the day is clear, - And I no more shall weep. - - To the no'nothe east and the sou'sou' west, - And every other way, - He's sailed from the girl that loves him best, - But he comes back to-day. - - "Land ho!" "Land ho!" - "Land on the starboard bow!" - "Land ho!" "Land ho!" - He's in the offing now." - -So sung pretty Mary Wallace, as, sitting at the foot of a little tree, -her favorite haunt and old time trysting-place in the woods, she -abandoned herself to happy anticipations of her lover's return. Each -hour might bring him now. Her bonnet was thrown aside and her black -curls rippled down loosely over her shoulders. Her head was thrown -back into the palms of her hands interlocked behind it, and her -beautiful face, thus upraised, beamed with innocent gladness. And she -sang, as the birds sing, from sheer happiness. - -"He's in the offing now," sang a full, rich, manly voice, joining hers -in the last line of her song, and with a little inarticulate cry of -surprise and joy she sprang to her feet, to be the next moment -enfolded in the strong arms of her sailor lover, back from the sea. - -Dorn Hackett was a fine-looking young fellow, of a size worthy of a -woman's liking, with a handsome, expressive face, hazel eyes, brown -hair, broad and well-balanced head, square shoulders, deep chest, and -such powerful arms as might have served for the model of a Hercules. - -"Why, darling, you are crying!" he exclaimed, as with gentle force he -raised her face from his breast and looked into her eyes. - -"Ah, Dorn, they are happy tears. Do you not know that a woman weeps -when her heart is full, just because it _is_ full, whether it be -filled with joy or sorrow?" - -"Well, you shall never cry for sorrow again, if I can prevent it." - -"Then you will never again leave me for so long a time. Oh, Dorn, it -seemed as if you never would come back; and my heart ached so with -longing for you. You don't know how unhappy I have been sometimes, -while you were away." - -"Why? Has that rascal Silas been making you any more trouble?" -demanded the young man, his eyes blazing, and his hands involuntarily -clenching in sudden anger. - -"No, no, Dorn. He went away very soon after you did, and has not -returned since." - -"Then that uncle of yours, I suppose--" - -"He has been no worse than before; rather better, perhaps as Silas was -not here to be urged upon me and you were gone--none but I knew -where--and, as he no doubt hoped, never to come back. But I begin to -think, sir, that you didn't love me at all as much as you professed, -or you would have felt something of the loneliness that I suffered and -understand better why I was unhappy." - -"Darling, I--" - -"What a foolish girl I have been! Crying my eyes out for one who was -no doubt very merry without me and well contented." - -"Ah! You only say that to make me tell you again how much I love you, -little Mollie. I've felt lonely enough, sometimes, it is true; but -never enough to cry about it, I must confess; and I rather think the -fellow is soft-headed as well as soft-hearted who pipes his eye and -gets down in the mouth when he can say to himself that every day that -passes, and every new exertion he makes, brings him nearer to the girl -he loves. Why, instead of getting blue with thoughts of my far-away -little Mollie, they gave me courage, and strength, and happiness. They -warmed me as I lay along the yard furling sail in the icy gale; they -made short the long hours of the night when I took my trick at the -wheel; they nerved my arm when I struck for the life of a whale." - -"I find myself beginning to believe again that you really did love -me." - -"Love you? Why, I couldn't live without loving you." - -"And you never thought that while you were so long away I might learn -to love somebody else?" - -"No. Never even dreamed of such a thing," he replied simply. - -"Ah! Now I know you loved me, for only perfect love, knowing but its -own fullness and truth, is so trustful. And you were right, dear Dorn. -I could love no one but you." - -"Well, my pet," continued Dorn, after the natural ceremonial of due -recognition of such a sweet avowal--the form and manner of which -youthful readers may readily figure to themselves, and older ones -perhaps find suggested by memory--"we'll not have much longer to wait -now. Our cruise was a good one, and when the shares are figured up and -paid off, I'll have a handsome little sum coming to me. Then an owner -in New Haven, Mr. Merriwether, wants me to take immediate command of a -schooner trading between that port and the West Indies, and has -offered me such a pretty share of the profits that I have agreed to -make a few trips for him. Then I shall have enough to build a cage for -my bird, and to buy, not simply a share in a schooner, but a whole -schooner--all by myself, I hope, and we will be made folks for life." - -"Oh! You're going away again, Dorn?" - -"Yes, but only for short voyages of a month or so at a time, and I'll -be over to see my little Mollie every time I'm in home port; and in -the fall, if not before, we'll be married. No more long voyages for -me." - -"I'm so glad to hear you say that, dear; and I can wait patiently, -even happily, when I may see you sometimes." And, possibly for -happiness still, the girl began crying softly again. - -"Come, come, little Mollie," said her sailor lover, consoling her with -a kiss, "there's no occasion to rig the pumps in such fair weather as -this." - -Mary smiled through her tears, and dried her eyes. - -"Now," he continued, "let me hear your voice, darling. Tell me -something." - -"What shall I tell you?" - -"Tell me again if you still love me." - -For answer she put her arm around his neck, drew his face down to -hers, and kissed him. What words could have been so complete and -eloquent an assurance as that chaste and tender caress? - -"My own dear little wife," he exclaimed, embracing her passionately. - -"Don't call me 'wife' until I am one," she said, with assumed -earnestness, "for I'm told it's unlucky." - -"Well, maybe it may be," he answered slowly and doubtingly. "There's -no denying that there is something in luck. Every sailorman knows -there are unlucky things, such as sailing on a Friday, and drowning a -cat, and lots more, and that may be so. Well, I won't take any chances -on it. But I've thought of you for eleven hundred days and nights as -my little wife, and the words sprang naturally to my lips. Still I'll -try not to call you so any more until we are married." - -"And to prevent any harm from your indiscretion I suppose I must use -the counter-charm." - -"And that is--?" - -"To call you," and winding her arms again about his neck she whispered -in his ear, "my big husband." - -And then, of course, there were more suitable ceremonials, endearments -and caresses, and mutual protestations of undying affection, such as -young people so circumstanced have always made, make yet, and -doubtless will make to the end of time. - -How very short the time seemed to the lovers from the moment of their -meeting until by a glance at the stars, the true sailor's clock, Dorn -saw that it was near the hour for him to leave Elysium and hasten to -join a shipmate, who was waiting for him in a light sail-boat off -Napeague Inlet, to take him back to New London and the stern realities -of life. And so, after a final settlement as to the probable time of -his return from his first West Indian voyage; and a little more -previsionary talk about the happiness of which they were so well -assured the enjoyment in the coming autumn; and consequently more -love-making and caressing, all of which could have no interest for -anybody but themselves, the lovers parted. - - -V. - -THE POISON OF GOLD. - -There was no difficulty whatever in establishing the identity of the -Van Deust brothers, and no obstacles were interposed to prevent their -entering into possession of their fortune as speedily as the forms of -law and the time requisite for communication with Holland would -permit; for in those days it had not yet become a branch of the legal -business to stir up vexatious will contests, based upon the fictitious -claims of presumptive heirs, in order that lawyers might fleece the -real inheritors. Even before the money arrived from Holland Peter -wanted a few thousand dollars of it in the house as a tangible -evidence of the reality of their wealth; and Mr. Holden very -cheerfully humored his whim by making him an advance of the required -amount. The old man had no idea of investing the money, or buying -anything with it; but he loved to run his fingers through the -glittering coins from time to time and listen to the mellifluous music -of their chinking; to count, and recount, and pile the yellow discs, -and think what he could do with them if he had a mind to. The unhappy -fact was that this sudden acquisition of wealth had developed a really -miserly disposition in the elder brother. As is very common, -especially among those who only acquire large fortunes late in life, -possession begat in him a longing to possess. He even felt it an -injury that he had been all those years without that money, the -existence even of which he had not known, and for which, now that he -clutched it, he really had not the slightest use. He had never been -one at whom the tongue of scandal might have wagged the reproach of -prodigality, even in his youth; but his jealously careful economy was -greater now than it had ever before been. - -Jacob proposed one day that they should purchase two black broadcloth -suits and crape-bound hats, to be worn as mourning for Uncle Dietrich; -but was completely discomfited by the look of pained surprise with -which Peter regarded him, and the tone in which he replied: - -"Now, Jacob, would you go to making ducks and drakes of our little -money in that way, and at your time of life?" - -No, Jacob resigned his idea of a tribute to Uncle Dietrich's memory, -and penitently declared he really had no notion of becoming a -spendthrift; and thereafter he uncomplainingly and unquestioningly -left his elder brother to the sole administration of their joint -wealth. - -When the bulk of their inheritance arrived and was placed in the hands -of Mr. Holden for investment on bond and mortgage in New York, that it -might yield more dollars to covetous Peter's longings, then the old -man's troubles indeed began. When he heard of a fire, he trembled to -think that perhaps it was property mortgaged to the Van Deust Fund -that was burned. When he read of a bankruptcy he shuddered for fear -that the delinquent might have been indebted to the Van Deust Fund. -When he had no bad news, then his anxiety was even greater, for at -times he was capable of thinking it possible that worthy little Mr. -Holden might have run away with the Van Deust Fund bodily. All this -made him a very uneasy and unhappy old man. Jacob's kinder and more -trustful nature gave place to none of those anxieties, and Peter -resented his seeming indifference to the Van Deust Fund. - -"Jacob," said he, one day, "we might live to see the Fund doubled." - -"Well, Peter, if it were, what more good would it do us?" - -The elder brother felt almost sick with disgust at that unambitious -reply, and said that he felt so. - -Thus it was that Peter's temper, never a remarkably sweet one, became -so sour that meek old Jacob grew to look upon him with actual dread -and would shun him, or sit looking askance and timidly at him, when -they smoked together on the porch in the evenings, in the habit but -not the content of former days. And, seeing this, a new suspicion -entered Peter's soul to plague him. - -"I suppose," said he, one day, with a grim smile, "that you think -because I'm the oldest, I'll die first." - -"Now, now, Peter, my dear Peter! I assure you I never had such a -thought," protested horrified Jacob. - -"Oh, it's only natural you should. I don't blame you. But I'm good for -a good many years yet, Jacob; a good many years yet." - -"I trust and fervently hope and pray, brother Peter, that you may be -good for very many years to come." And the tender-hearted old man's -voice trembled, and his eyes were moist as he spoke. "Why," said he, -"to think of your dying, Peter, gives me a--a--a--" - -"An idea, eh?" - -"No, no, Peter, not at all that. No. A cold shudder, I meant; but you -startled me so I couldn't think of the word. After all the many years -we have lived together, all by ourselves, with no other companions and -hardly any other friends than each other! Why, Peter, if I were to -lose you, I'd want to die myself, right off." - -"Humph. Not you. I know what you'd want to do a heap more. And I don't -blame you. Oh, no. It's natural for you. But I know." - -"Know what?" - -"I know what you'd do with the Fund if I was out of the way." - -"Then you know much more, Peter, than I should know, even if I had it -in my hands, to do what I pleased with this blessed minute." - -"Why, you'd be a special Providence for the women. That's what you'd -be, you soft old noodle. You'd give it away to the young ones that -wanted to marry, like Mary Wallace; to the middle-aged ones who were -sorry they had married, like Mrs. Richards. Oh, you don't think I've -noticed and understood your hinting 'how poor she was,' and 'how hard -she must find it to get along with her five small children and -deserted by her worthless husband;' and I've no doubt, if the truth -were known, he had some good reasons for leaving her. And you'd give -it to the old ones, just because they were old women. You'd give a lot -of it to Mary Wallace, for her mother's sake, I've no doubt. Oh, yes. -Beautiful ideas you'd have, and fine things you'd do with the Fund if -I was out of the road." - -"If I should do all that you have said, brother, I think the Fund -would be doing a great deal more good than it does now." - -"Aha! There! You admit it! I knew it! But you needn't think you'll -ever get the chance. I'll live to bury you yet." - -By this time he had worked himself up into a veritable passion; his -lean old fingers trembled with the agitation of his wrath, and his -perverted senses were deaf and blind to the loving kindness of Jacob's -meek and gentle response, "And I hope, Peter, that you may." - -"You don't. You're a hypocrite," he retorted, furiously. Jacob looked -at him sadly, shook his head, and after lighting his pipe in silence, -strolled away for his evening smoke to the woods, where he was wont to -retire when Peter made the house too warm for him. - -But the crushed worm, proverbially at least, eventually turns; and one -day the younger brother, badgered beyond endurance by those -oft-repeated taunts and reproaches, which were always accompanied by -cruel raspings of the old wound in his heart, faced his tormentor and -replied: - -"Well," he said, "take it by and large, and I think if I should do all -that you have said with the money I'd make a better use of it than -you'd be likely to." - -"What do you know about what I'd do with it?" - -"No more than you know what I would; but I've got just as good a right -to guess as you have." - -"Well, what do you 'guess'?" retorted Peter, with a sneering wicked -grin. - -"Why, I imagine that as long as you lived you would hang on to every -penny of it, like an old miser as you are, and when Death loosed the -greedy clutch of your avaricious fingers from it, it would be -discovered that you had left it all to found a home for worn-out, -dried-up, useless, ill-natured old animals such as we are, creatures -who have outlived all love but that of self, and deserve no other; men -who, like you, have no without a blush for what they are, and a sigh -for what they might have been." - -"Jacob, you're a chuckle-headed ass." - -"Peter, you're a soulless old curmudgeon, and a brute." - -"Don't you talk to me like that. For two cents I'd knock your head -off." - -"For a money consideration I've no doubt you'd try it; but I'll bet -you a thousand dollars you can't knock one side of it off." - -"You'll bet a thousand dollars! I'd like to know where you'd get 'em." - -"Right in the house. Half the money that's there belongs to me. It all -belongs to me just as much as to you." - -"Oh, indeed! And you'd like to knock me in the head and get possession -of it, wouldn't you?" - -"No. But I'd like to jam some sense into your thick skull, and bleed -out some of the meanness and selfishness that fills your heart." - -"Faw de Lo'd's sake. Is you boys a qwa'lin'?" demanded old black -Betsy, coming up on the porch; and they slunk away ashamed before her. - -But when Jacob had once "read the Declaration of Independence," as he -styled his self-assertion against Peter's domineering disposition, he -soon fell into the habit of repeating the precedent, and as Peter did -not willingly or easily relinquish his sovereignty--the prerogative of -seniority in his opinion--they had many a wordy wrangle, and not -infrequently uttered to each other such threats as might well have -seemed ominous if overheard by strangers. And they were overheard, and -their quarrels were repeated and magnified in circulation from mouth -to mouth; so that it was not long before it became matter of common -notoriety in the community that the two old men had actually had -knock-down fights; and once, when Peter was laid up with the -rheumatism, and Jacob was nursing him most tenderly and -assiduously--notwithstanding the invalid's temper was just then even -worse than usual--it was popularly believed that the elder brother had -been almost killed by the younger in a bloody combat, and there were -those who even talked of "speaking to the squire about it." But the -brothers never did come to blows, and the only immediate result of -their quarrels was a formal division between them of the money on hand -in the house, after which it was allowed to lie in two parts, as -useless as it before was in one. Jacob indeed had some idea of giving -his share to Mary Wallace, but could not exactly make up his mind upon -what pretence or with what excuse to offer it, and feared to offend -her. - -One day he sat on a little mossy bank by the roadside when she passed -him, coming from the woods with a bunch of wild flowers in her hands -and going toward her uncle's house. She was close to him, but did not -see him. Her thoughts were upon her absent lover, and in the -exaltation of her happiness she was oblivious to all about her but her -own joy. The old man's eyes were upon her, however, reading her secret -in her countenance transfigured by love and hope. Ah! how her look -brought back her mother's face to his remembrance. - -"Little she would care," he said softly to himself, "for the money -now. She has love; and that is better than gold." - - -VI. - -WHAT WOULD STEADY SILAS. - -But when approaching her home, Mary controlled her countenance and was -quite demure. The happy ones do well to hide their felicity, lest the -envy it would beget should make the world intolerable. And about Uncle -Thatcher's house there was an atmosphere that made very easy the -repression of joyous emotion. It was a square frame dwelling, two -stories high, in a bare sandy yard surrounded on three sides by a -rickety fence of rails and on the forth--the front--by palings, with a -gate in the middle of them. There were no shutters on the windows, -that looked like great staring dead eyes, sometimes with a blaze of -fury in them when the sun, low in the west, glared upon them; and -there was no porch, but only a big stone for a step at the door. There -were no vines trailing against the walls; no flowers in the yard, but -only weeds in the fence corners; and no trees. Everything that might -have adorned or softened the expression of the place was lacking. The -birds always flew swiftly by it and never stopped there to sing. - -At one end of this cheerless home was a crumbling well-curb, to which -came often, to draw water, a tall, gaunt, sallow and slatternly woman, -who continually wore a sun-bonnet and had her sleeves rolled up on her -lean sinewy arms. A tangled wisp of unkempt sandy hair never failed to -dangle below the curtain of the sun-bonnet on the back of her neck. -That woman was Aunt Thatcher. - -Behind the house, and separated from it by a stable-yard, knee-deep in -time of rain, with muck and foul green water, stood an old barn, from -which was diffused a dull but quite perceptible odor of animal -decomposition, arising out of a great pile of crude whalebone, or -"ballein", and some barrels of whale oil. Uncle Thatcher was captain -of a shore whaling company, and in his barn those articles were -generally stored until they could be sent to market. The "ballein" -needed to be kept some time, for cleaning, scraping, and splitting -before it could be sold. - -As Mary reached the gate, she stood still for a few minutes, -contemplating the scene of thriftlessness and apparent poverty before -her; a picture for which, as she well knew, no good reason existed in -fact, for Uncle Thatcher was by no means a poor man. As captain of the -whaling crew, his annual gains were considerable. Then he owned a -fishing smack and a large share in a big coasting schooner that plied -from Sag Harbor, both of which paid him well. But better than either -of those to him was an industry, the nature and importance of which -Mary little understood, although she suspected something of its -mysteries. At certain times each month Uncle Thatcher and one -particular neighbor used to go fishing in a stout whaleboat rigged -with a sail, on moonlit nights, and upon those occasions they were -almost always lucky enough to find one or two casks of rum--doubtless -washed overboard from some vessel homeward-bound to New Haven from the -West Indies. (It was wonderful how many casks of rum were thus lost -overboard in those days, just off Napeague Inlet.) Or, by the -accidental use of a grapnel, they would chance to fish up some bottles -of valuable "bay-oil" from the bottom. Uncle Thatcher used to bury -that treasure-trove in the sand, back of his barn, and it always -mysteriously disappeared at night, when nobody was watching it. Yet he -never seemed to take those losses to heart, but would find and bury -more rum and bay oil, in the same place, to be lost in just the same -way. "Smuggling, eh?" Well, yes. But they didn't call it that. They -spoke of it as "finding and saving things." - -While Mary stood at the gate, Uncle Thatcher himself sat upon the -stone door-step, sharpening with a whetstone the edge of a -"blubber-spade"--a sort of huge long-handled chisel, used to cut a -whale's blubber from his carcass and into strips. He was a tall man, -wirily and powerfully built, past middle-age, but still bearing well -his years. His gray eyes were overhung by exceedingly bushy iron-gray -brows; his nose was large and beak-shaped; his lips, thin and -straight; his ears wide and thick; and his hands big and bony, with -thick fingers, flat at the ends and having great joints. - -Looking up from his work, he demanded of the young girl, in a tone of -querulous surprise, "Where on earth have you been? I've been looking -everywhere for you to turn the grindstone." - -"I'm ready to do it now, uncle," responded Mary, evading a reply to -his question by the prompt proffer of her services. - -"Oh, I don't need you now. Your aunt turned it." - -He gave a few rubs of the whetstone on the shining blade, in an -absent-minded way, and then laying the long spade across his knees, -and looking sharply at Mary, said slowly, as if carefully choosing his -words: - -"You don't get used to our way of living out here on the beach, do -you, Mary? You'd rather be back in the city, where you lived when you -were a little girl, wouldn't you?" - -"Oh, no, uncle. My memories of the city do not make me wish to return -to it. Papa and mamma died there, and after we lost papa we had to -live in a very poor part of the city, where the tall houses hid the -sunshine, and the air was always bad, and there was so much misery, -and dirt, and sickness all about us. Oh, I loathed it as a child, and -it makes me almost sick to think of it now. No, I do not wish to go -back to the city. I like best the bright sunlight and the pure ocean -breezes. I love even the storms." - -"But if you could live in a nice place in the city?" - -"No. I think I would be afraid to go back there now." While talking -she had advanced from the gate, and now stood near her uncle. - -"Sit down here beside me, Mary. I want to talk to you a little," said -he. - -She obeyed, trembling slightly, for she felt a vague presentiment that -he proposed pressing a subject that she dreaded. But he was slow to -begin, seemed to hesitate, and relapsed into thought while he pared -his already stubby nails upon the sharp edge of the blubber-spade. At -length, he "made out his bearings" and opened the attack. - -"You know," he said, "that Silas has been a little wild, perhaps, in -days gone by, as a young man of spirit is most likely to be; but I -hope you have no hard feelings against him on account of his -foolishness that time. You know he was only a boy, then; and he was, -as you may say, carried away with you, and all struck of a heap when -you gave him the mitten so plainly. Maybe he deserved all he got that -time, and I guess it done him good; so we'll call that square and let -by-gones be by-gones. Is that your idea?" - -"Yes, uncle," answered Mary timidly, in a low voice. - -"Give us your hand on it." - -With a little smile the girl extended her hand, which Uncle Thatcher -took very seriously, and treated to a solemn pump-handle-like shake. - -"And now here's the point," he went on, still holding her fingers; -"Silas is going to settle down and be steady. He wrote to me about -three months ago, from Boston, and said he'd got work there as a -ship-carpenter, and had quit his wild ways, and wasn't going to call -on me for any more money. Well, he has kept his own word about the -money, and by that I judge he's all right, earning an honest living, -and doing as he said. But he likes living in the city better than down -here on the beach. And now do you know what would do more than -anything else to keep him steady?" - -Mary shook her head. She had an idea of what he meant, but did not -wish to encourage him in the direction he was tending. - -"A good wife would," said Uncle Thatcher very decidedly. - -"Then I hope he will succeed in finding one in Boston," replied the -girl, with purposeful evasion of the direct attack. - -"That's not my idea. I don't want him to marry a Boston girl. I've got -my eye on a girl who I know is all that a good wife should be, the -very one that Silas ought to have. You know who I mean. It's you, -Mary." - -"A girl should never marry a man she doesn't love, uncle, and I don't -love Silas." - -He bit his lips, was silent for a moment, and then resumed: "You're -only a girl, yet, and can't rightly be expected to know your own mind; -and besides, it's three years since you have seen Silas. You don't -know how you might feel towards him if you were to see him again now." - -She shook her head, for she thought she did know very well, as she -mentally put Silas and Dorn in contrast, but did not answer. - -"I hope," he continued, viewing her with a little growing suspicion, -"that you've got over that childish notion you had once about that -young Hackett chap. He's gone, the Lord knows where, and I'll be -bound, never thinks of you any more. Now, if you marry Silas, I can -give you a good start in life. I'm not poor, and if you and Silas -prefer to live in the city, why I'll furnish a house for you there -nicely, and start him in some business, and--" - -"Oh, no, no, uncle! Please do not talk any more about it. I can't -marry Silas. Indeed, I can't." - -Uncle Thatcher's face crimsoned with anger, but he restrained himself, -and said: "Ah, I suppose you still think that young Hackett will come -back of the same mind that he went away. Aha! Not he! Those young -sailor chaps have a wife in every port. And he'd better not come -snooping around here, if he does come back, or I'll--" - -Suddenly breaking off his speech, he sprang to his feet, clutched his -hat from the ground, and started off for the beach, running at the top -of his speed. His quick eye had seen, afar off upon the bluff -overlooking the sea, a man on horseback, who waved, with excited -gestures, a small red flag. - - -VII. - -PURSUIT AND CAPTURE. - -As Uncle Thatcher ran, so ran his neighbors. Bounding across fields, -leaping fences, rolling down the sandy face of the bluff, they arrived -breathlessly before a small wooden hut at the foot of a sand dune, a -little distance up from the edge of the beach--the boat-house of the -whaling company. Their captain, having good legs and wind, timely -notice and the shortest distance to travel, was, as usual, first to -reach the goal, and by the time the crew arrived, had already thrown -open the large double doors which constituted the entire front of the -hut, revealing within a completely fitted whale-boat that stood -chocked upon ways that ran down into the surf. There was too much -excitement, and too little breath among the eager men who joined him, -for waste of words. Each knew his place and busied himself with the -duties pertaining to it. One looked to the harpoons. Another saw that -the lance was in its place, and the lashing of its wooden cap thrown -off. A third was careful to see that the long line, nicely coiled in -its tub, was free from loops or kinks in the coil. By this time all -the crew were assembled, and grasping the thwarts of the boat, from -beneath which the chocks were kicked out, ran her swiftly down to the -water's edge and launched her, springing in over her sides as she rode -out upon a receding wave. Uncle Thatcher sat in the stern. The bow oar -was held by Lem Pawlett, a sturdy young fellow who had earned by his -strength, skill, and courage the envied post of harpooner. - -Once launched, the men rested on their oars a few moments, and looked -up inquiringly to the man on horseback, as if awaiting a signal from -him. During this brief period of inaction, a little good-natured -chaffing passed between the younger men in the boat and their -disappointed neighbors who came too late to take places at the oars. -All belonged to the same company, but only the first comers were, by -their rules, allowed to man the boat. The crew would have fatigue, -peril, possibly death to encounter, but they would also have the -excitement of the chase and a somewhat greater share of the profits, -in the event of success, than those who remained behind; so there was -always a great effort made by every man to be first to catch the -signal of the mounted lookout, who was on the bluffs all day long--and -first, if possible, to reach the boat-house. - -"Aha! There's Dan!" exclaimed one in the boat. "This is the third -time, hand-running, that he has missed going out. It looks as if he -was afraid since we tackled that finback." - -"If you couldn't run any better than you can row, I'd beat you here -every time," retorted Dan. - -"I dreamed last night of rolling a bar'l of oil," remarked a -middle-aged man in the crew, "and I'd a swore this morning that I'd be -after a whale before the day was over. I never knowed it to fail." - -"And then," answered one on shore, "you came down and sat on the beach -all day, waiting for the signal. It isn't fair to play dreams on the -rest of us that way, is it boys?" - -"No. We've got to pull him out of bed at daylight hereafter, and swear -him on what he dreamed the night before." - -"You'd better not try it. I keep a gun." - -"But you don't know how to load it. You want to come right out of that -boat now, and start fair, Billy." - -"I'll run you fifty yards on the beach for your place, Billy." - -"That wasn't what the dream meant, Billy." - -"What did it mean then?" - -"Why, that you were going to find a bar'l of rum in the Napeague sedge -next light of the moon." - -There was a general laugh, for Billy's operations against the peace -and dignity of the customs authorities were, like those of Uncle -Thatcher, an open secret among his neighbors. - -Suddenly Uncle Thatcher raised his hand, and all were silent, turning -their eyes to the man on the bluff, who was looking through a glass -out upon the sea, while holding his little red flag extended at arm's -length and still. After a few moments he raised the bit of bunting -twice above his head, held it motionless for an instant, pointing -toward the east, then waved it once. - -"She blows and breaches two points south of east, and a mile away," -exclaimed Uncle Thatcher, translating the language of the flag. "Pull, -boys! Pull away!" - -With arrow-like swiftness the boat darted from the shore; but hardly a -sound, as the oars plied rapidly in the rowlocks and the ashen blades -bent in the heaving billows, could have been heard a half-dozen yards -away. Nearer and nearer they drew to the whale, and by this time the -rowers were panting with their exertions; but not a man lost his -stroke, and not a word was uttered save the captain's low and earnest -caution: "Harder a port." Although so close to the monster that they -could hear it blow, not one of the crew turned his head. - -"Up bow!" commanded the captain. - -In an instant Lem Pawlett, throwing his oar into the boat, was upon -his feet, with a harpoon poised in both hands above his head, his face -toward the bow. He was within four or five fathoms of the whale. -Another stroke of the oars reduced the distance to two; and then, with -a mighty effort, he launched the keen-pointed iron into the huge, -black, shining mass that lay before him. Quick as thought the -harpooner was in his seat, oar in hand, ready to respond to the -instantaneously given order, "Back all!" And the boat seemed to spring -away from its dangerous proximity to the whale, almost as if its -motion was a recoil from Lem's powerful stroke. The huge creature, -thus rudely startled, leaped clear of the water, in sudden fright and -pain; then darted straight downward toward the bottom. And now ensued -the most anxious moments of the chase. The line attached to the -harpoon ran out from its coil in the tub abaft of 'midships, around -the logger-head astern, and thence forward, between the men as they -sat at their oars, and over a roller in the bow, following the fleeing -whale so fast that it fairly hissed. Lem sat ready with a hatchet in -his hand to cut it, if necessary, as it might at any moment be, to -save a man's life. For, should a kink or loop occur in that swift -speeding rope, and catch one of the crew by arm, or leg, or neck, it -would either kill him at once or hurl him, like a stone from a sling, -into the sea, were it not quickly severed. - -Fortunately for his hunters, nature has placed the whale under two -serious disadvantages. His field of vision is so limited, owing to the -position of his eyes, that it is not difficult to approach him closely -if his pursuers are cautious to keep back of his flukes; and he must, -from time to time, come to the surface to breathe. However deep and -far he may plough his way beneath the waves, his enemies know that it -is only a question of time when he will have to come up and subject -himself to another attack; and however mighty his energies, he must -eventually succumb, if the harpoon holds and the line is not cut. - -Down, down went the tortured animal, until the men began to cast -anxious glances at the supply of line remaining in the tub. But -presently the speed slackened. The whale was coming up again. Having -once more taken breath, and made a violent but vain effort to shake -himself free by beating the waves with his huge flukes and tail, the -leviathan started off at his highest speed, swimming near the surface. -The boat, following in his wake, dragged along with such velocity that -great sheets of water and crests of foam leaped from her bows, and the -crew were drenched with spray. Suddenly he again "sounded," as his -diving toward the bottom is technically termed by whalers. But this -time his stay beneath the surface was less prolonged. He was becoming -exhausted. Still he continued to make prodigious struggles to escape. - -At length he lay quivering upon the surface, resting. Swiftly, once -more, the boat approached him, and Uncle Thatcher, jumping from his -place at the stern, stepped lightly forward upon the seats, carrying -the lance, a long, keen-edged and pointed blade of steel. It is the -post of honor, which belongs of right to the officer in command of a -whale-boat, to give the _coup-de-grace_ to the whale, to launch this -steel "into his life." With strong and practiced arms Uncle Thatcher -drove the weapon deep into the monster's vitals, and so quick was he -that he was enabled to strike with effect a second time before the -"flurry," or death-struggle, began, and the boat again backed away. As -if mad with agony and despair, the dying mountain of flesh beat the -water about him into foam; rushed frantically to and fro, seeming to -seek his enemies; rolled over and over; all the while, whenever he -spouted, throwing crimson torrents of his life-blood into the air. -Gradually he became weaker and weaker; at last was still. The victory -was won. - -Slowly and laboriously the crew towed the enormous carcass to the -beach, followed closely by the back fins of several large sharks, -attracted to the place by the scent of the whale's blood. - - -VIII. - -SILAS'S FRIEND FROM BOSTON. - -A novel and animated scene was presented at the beach the night after -the capture of the whale. On a grassy little plateau that sloped -gently down between two low sand-dunes toward the sea, was erected a -rude shed, beneath which, set in brick-work furnaces over bright wood -fires, were two huge kettles for the "trying out" of the oil from the -whale's blubber. Aboard whaling ships it is customary to leave the -blubber to "ripen" for several days, in close rooms, before it is put -into the kettles, as this, it has been ascertained, increases the -yield of oil; but the shore whalemen rarely do this. They simply begin -at once with the tenderest and most easily treated portions, and by -the time they get through, unaccustomed olfactories in the vicinity -generally attest that the "ripening" process has been perfected. - -Half-a-dozen boys fed the furnaces--first with wood, and later with -blubber "scraps," or "cracklings." When not doing that, they scuffled -with each other, wrestled on the grass, shouted with gleeful -excitement, and unceasingly munched corn and doughnuts cooked in the -boiling oil. By the ruddy light of a bonfire before the shed, men cut -in strips, with blubber-spades, the enormous masses and slabs of fat, -stripped off the whale's carcass down in the surf, and dragged up here -on a low, broad-wheeled wagon, drawn by two scraggy horses. Other men -carried those strips inside the shed, where one who sat at a raised -bench, with a two-handled knife, "minced" them for the kettles. Still -others tended the kettles; skimming out, from time to time, the crisp, -brown "cracklings," and adding other masses of fat in their stead; -sometimes ladling the oil into barrels. When not otherwise busy, they -chewed cracklings. Several women came with panfuls of sweet dough, -twisted in curious shapes, which, when thrown into the seething oil, -were quickly converted into the toothsome doughnuts in which the boys -so much delighted. - -At one side laid a great pile of black, fibrous, ragged-looking -material, dug from the mouth of the whale, the "ballein," which, when -carefully cleaned, dried, split, and otherwise prepared, is known as -the whalebone of commerce and corsets. - -The work went on with unabated vigor all that night, and all the next -day, and gave promise of continuing even three or four days longer, -for the "trying out" of the oil from a big whale, as this one was, is -no light task. - -On the evening of the second day a well-dressed stranger appeared at -the scene of operations, inquiring for Mr. Thatcher; and upon finding -the grim old veteran--who had as yet taken no rest since starting in -pursuit of the whale--introduced himself as a friend of Silas's, from -Boston, and expressed an earnest desire to meet the young man. - -"Why, he is in Boston," said Uncle Thatcher. - -"He was, but has left there, and I expected to meet him here," replied -the stranger. - -"Here?" - -"Yes. I was out of town when he went away, rather suddenly, and so did -not see him, unfortunately. But he left word for me that he was going -to New York to look for a better job, and would pay a visit to his -father's on the way." - -"So you knew him well in Boston, did you?" - -"Yes; oh, yes; knew him very well. He was quite a friend of mine." - -"He was doing well, I suppose? Working and keeping steady?" - -The father's voice faltered slightly; he hesitated a little, and -picked up a bit of crackling, which he munched as a cover to his -anxiety, while he looked wistfully at the stranger. - -The man from Boston seemed just a little embarrassed, but only for an -instant, when he answered very reassuringly: "Steady? Oh, yes. Steady -as a deacon." Muttering to himself, "some deacons, at least." - -"Working at ship-carpentering, I believe?" - -"Oh, yes. Certainly. A fine ship-carpenter he is, too." - -"When did you see him last?" - -"H'm. Well, let me see. It must have been--yes, it was two weeks ago -yesterday. I'm quite disappointed not to find him here." - -"He may have stopped over somewhere on the road a day or two; and if -you're in no hurry, and will wait for him, you are welcome to stop -with me. I'll give you Silas's own room." - -"Thank you. Thank you very much, Mr. Thatcher; but I have already made -other arrangements. I have promised to go over and stop with a friend -in the village, and after I have looked on a little while at your very -interesting industry here, I think I'll go back there, and return -to-morrow. Silas may have come by that time." - -"Very well. Suit yourself, sir, Mr. ----; I didn't rightly catch your -name--Mr. ----?" - -"Ketchum, Mr. Thatcher, Ketchum." - -"Mr. Ketchum. Glad to know you, Mr. Ketchum. Glad to know any friend -of my son Silas's." - -"Thank you, sir." - -"Make yourself as comfortable as you can, and will you have a little -something to take, to keep the cold out?" - -Mr. Ketchum said he would not object to having "a little of something -to take," and Uncle Thatcher brought it out of a fence corner, from -among the weeds, in a stone jug, with a corn-cob stopper. But Silas's -friend from Boston was surprised to find that the jug contained -delicious "double-canned" St. Croix rum, old and of magnificent -flavor, and very accurately and shrewdly thought to himself, "These -beach-combers never paid the duty on liquor like that; smugglers here, -I'd bet my life." - -He went over and stood near the kettles. - -"Was this considered a very large whale?" he asked the man who was -stirring the oil. - -"Well, pretty fair-sized." - -"What do you call pretty fair-sized?" - -"Well, a whale eighty feet long is a pretty fair size." - -"Was this one eighty feet long?" - -"No." - -"How long was he, then?" - -"About sixty-five feet." - -"Do you ever really get them eighty feet long?" - -"Oh, yes. I've killed whales ninety feet long." - -"I've seen 'em a hundred feet long," volunteered the man who was -mincing the blubber. - -"I've know'd 'em to be a hundred and twenty feet long in the Indian -Ocean," put in another, lifting a pile of minced blubber on a -four-tined fork, and tossing it into a kettle. - -"Whales is ketched a hundred and fifty feet long," said a -solemn-looking man, who stood leaning on the handle of his -blubber-spade just outside the shed. - -A little silence fell upon the group, which Mr. Ketchum was the first -to break, again addressing the man at the kettle, asking him: - -"How much oil will you get out of this one?" - -"About eighty bar'ls, I guess." - -"He must have been pretty fat." - -"Well, so-so." - -"How much have you obtained from one whale?" - -"I've seen a hundred bar'ls took." - -"I've helped to 'try out' one hundred and fifty bar'ls from one -whale," said the mincer. - -"Right whales, full-grown, not uncommon gives one hundred and -seventy-five bar'ls, and sperms has been known to give as high as two -hundred and twenty," spoke up the man with the fork. - -The solemn blubber cutter once more came to the front, leaning on his -spade, and said oracularly: "I've know'd 'em yield two hundred and -fifty bar'ls." - -The relators of solid facts inside the shed perceived that they had no -chance as long as that untrammelled person with the blubber-spade had -the advantage of the last call every time, and so relapsed into -taciturnity. - -Uncle Thatcher did not somehow like the look of Silas's Boston friend, -though he could not tell why, and felt relieved when Mr. Ketchum at -length took his departure for the village. But when he went home at -midnight to take a little much-needed rest, he was almost convinced -that he saw the figure of the stranger near a clump of bushes a little -distance from the doorway. - -The next morning Mr. Ketchum came, again, with seemingly unabated -interest in the process of trying out whale's blubber, and remained -about the shed all day, waiting with inexhaustible patience for his -friend Silas. - - -IX. - -THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN. - -That third evening, at an early hour, Uncle Thatcher said that he felt -worn out and believed he would go home to bed, as the little sleep he -had caught the night before had not done him any good. Thereupon Mr. -Ketchum said that he, too, felt tired, and would go back to the -village at once. Yet two hours afterward Mary Wallace saw, near her -uncle's house, a man who, from his description, seemed to be Silas's -Boston friend. Uncle Thatcher became very uneasy. A feeling like a -presentiment of some impending calamity oppressed him and kept him -awake. - -While he lay thus, silent and watchful, by the side of his snoring -spouse, he heard a slight rasping noise, as of a window being -cautiously raised, in an adjoining room at the back of the house. -Rising noiselessly, and passing to the apartment whence the sound -proceeded, he reached it just in time to encounter a man who had that -moment entered by the window and, clutching the intruder, was about to -deal him a blow, when his hand was stayed by the man saying in a -hoarsely suppressed, yet familiar voice: - -"Look out, dad, it's me!" - -Silas had come home. The unhappy father sank down upon a chair and was -silent for a few moments, mastering his agitation before he could -control his voice to demand: - -"Why do you come in this way, like a thief in the night?" - -"I didn't want to wake the family up," answered Silas, in a sulky -tone. - -"Where do you come from?" - -"Boston." - -"Why did you leave there?" - -"I heard of a chance for a better job in New York, and am going down -there." - -"Have you been working steadily in Boston, and behaving yourself as -you promised me you would?" - -"Of course." - -There was a ring of insincerity in the young man's voice that did not -escape his father's notice. - -"Did you expect to meet a friend here?" - -"Why of course, dad; I always expect to meet you as a friend." - -"I mean a friend of yours from Boston." - -"From Boston? No. Why?" - -"There is a man here looking for you; has been here two days; says he -is a friend of yours." - -Silas dropped into a chair and in a low voice muttered an oath. - -"Sit still there until I get a light. I want to have a look at you," -said Uncle Thatcher, rising. - -"No, no, dad. Don't get a light, or--wait a bit. I'll fix it." - -Silas quickly stripped of its blankets a spare bed that stood in the -room and carefully hung them up over the window upon the shade-roller, -so as to prevent any ray of light straggling through to the outside. -His father waited patiently until this preparation was complete and -then went to the kitchen, whence he returned in a few moments with a -lighted candle. - -"Silas, you've been lying to me," was his first exclamation at sight -of his son. - -"Well, what do you want to ask a feller so many questions for?" was -the scapegrace's dogged reply. - -"You have, you young scoundrel. Your face isn't that of an honest -working-man, and your hands--let me see them! Yes, as I expected. -Honest toil makes hands hard, and rough, and big, as mine are. Yours -are not so. Now tell me the truth about what you've been doing, and -what you are up to now--if you can tell the truth--or I'll break your -back, you scamp." - -"Well. There's no use a-makin' a fuss about it. I was at work. Not at -ship-carpentering, but at tending bar. I couldn't get anything else to -do. And I got into a little bit of trouble. That's all." - -"'That's all,' eh? What sort of trouble?" - -Silas hesitated; the old man, as he well knew by experience, was -almost certain to look through his most adroitly constructed lies, and -he did not dare to tell the truth. - -"I didn't do nothin'," said he at length, sullenly. "It was some of -the rest of the boys, and I was mixed up with them, as they were -friends of mine--and--I was afraid of being arrested--by mistake. -That's all." - -"Ah! And 'that's all,' eh? And what did your friends, 'the boys,' do?" - -"I dunno." - -Uncle Thatcher gripped his son by the shoulder and stood silently -regarding him for a few moments, as if debating with himself whether -to carry out his threat or not. Then his hand dropped, and he said: - -"Something tells me not to ask you. You'll either lie to me, or you'll -tell me some truth that, coming from your lips, would sicken my heart -with shame that you are my son." - -"I didn't do nothin', I tell you." - -"No more uncalled-for falsehoods, Silas. You have come here for money, -haven't you?" - -"If you have a few dollars to spare, I'd like to have some. I'm -broke." - -"I don't know why I should waste any more money on you." - -"I've always acted like a friend to you, dad. I could have made a good -stake turnin' up your smugglin' business here, but I never did," -replied Silas in a suggestive tone. - -His father looked at him with a countenance full of disgust, and -answered grimly: "Oh, it's hush-money you're after, is it?" - -"Well, no; I didn't exactly mean that, dad. But I want to borrow a few -dollars." - -"And when you get them, you'll leave?" - -"Yes." - -Uncle Thatcher left the room. As soon as he was alone Silas proceeded -to make a strange toilette. Drawing a bottle of some fluid from his -pocket, he poured its contents sparingly upon a comb that he found on -the bureau and vigorously combed his hair with it. From sandy brown -his head quickly became an intense black. Then hunting up his father's -razor, which he knew was kept in that room, he speedily removed his -red moustache and goatee. While doing this before the mirror, he -noticed his eyebrows and carefully blackened them. Last of all, he put -a false black beard, which he drew from one of his pockets, upon his -chin. - -His father, returning with a roll of bank-notes in his hand, started -with surprise at sight of Silas's transformation, and the look of -disgust deepened on his face; but he made no remark upon it and Silas -wasted no time in offering any explanation. Greedily the young man -clutched the pile of money that was silently extended to him, saying -as he did so: - -"If that friend of mine from Boston turns up again, try to keep him -hanging around here for a few days, if you can, and don't tell anybody -that I've been here. And now I'll be off." - -"Do you wish to see your mother?" - -"No. It's no use. She needn't know I've been here. She'd be sure to -chatter about it. Women are never to be trusted." - -"How are you going?" - -"The way I came." - -"Through the window?" - -"Yes." - -"Why?" - -"Well, it's the most direct road to the boat I've left lying in the -cove, and I don't care about going out at the front door, which my -dear friend from Boston, if he's the man I think he is, will probably -be watching at this moment." - -He made a movement towards the candle to extinguish it. - -"Stop!" said the old man. "Before you go I have a few words to say to -you. This may be the last time I shall ever see you. I am almost -tempted to say that I hope it may be, for fear I may next have to see -you in a felon's cell, or perhaps on the gallows, as I can only expect -a dark and terrible fate for you. I have done all that lay in my power -to make a decent man of you, and what are you? A hunted fugitive, -disguised to evade an officer who seeks to arrest you for some crime, -for such I understand now to be the mission of the man who has been -here inquiring for you. Now, I never want you to come back here, or -remind me of your existence until you can do so in open day, with a -clear conscience and without fear of any man. I have given you there -two hundred dollars, and it's all you'll ever get from me, alive or -dead, if your life does not entirely change. Nor will you ever be able -to squeeze any hush-money from me again. I smuggled, because I was -eager to amass money to leave to my son. I will never do so any more. -That source of income gone will still leave me enough for my lifetime, -which will be sufficient, since I have no hope of you; but I will have -none to waste on a criminal profligate--not another dollar. I'm not a -poor man, it is true, but neither am I rich one, with thousands that I -don't know what to do with, like the Van Deusts. All I have--" - -"Like the Van Deusts?" interrupted Silas. "Have they got so much -money?" - -"All I have," continued the old man without noticing the interruption, -"has been gained by hard work and risk, and you have squandered -viciously enough of my earnings." - -"Where did the Van Deusts get their money?" - -"A distant relative left them a fortune of I don't know how many -thousands. But that is nothing to you. Pay attention to what I am -telling you. Hereafter you will have to provide for yourself. Choose -your own way to do it, but I warn you that you will find an honest way -the best. I did hope to see you marry Mary Wallace. She has a little -money coming to her, that I managed to get saved for her out of the -wreck of her father's estate, of which she knows nothing. I thought it -might as well be kept in the family. But she is a good girl and I can -never again have the face to urge her to take the hand of my son until -he proves to me that he is worthy of a decent man's, or woman's -regard. And now, there's your way. Take it, and go." - -"No hard feelin's I hope, dad," growled the young man sullenly, -offering his hand. - -"'Hard feelings,' no. Grief and shame, yes. Go! And the best blessing -I can give you is, may God save you from the gallows." - -Silas shuddered, dropped the extended hand which his father had not -taken, turned to the light and blew it out. Then he took down the -blankets from the window, carefully and noiselessly raised the sash, -jumped out into the darkness and disappeared. - -Uncle Thatcher stood for a long time at the window listening, waiting, -fearing; but no unusual sound reached his ears. - -The next morning he found Silas's friend from Boston already at the -trying-out shed when he arrived there, although it was yet only dawn; -and leading him a little to one side, put to him the direct question: - -"What did you wish to arrest my son for?" - -Mr. Ketchum started slightly, looked sharply at his questioner, and -then as if comprehending that, however the old man's knowledge of his -errand was obtained, further attempts at concealment would be useless, -replied: "Burglary." - - -X. - -THE NIGHT BEFORE---- - -The days grew long and hot; bees came humming in at open windows; wild -roses bloomed along the roadsides; the blackberries were turning from -red to their riper hue; and the smell of new-mown hay was in the air. -But still, though weeks had passed since Silas's disappearance in the -darkness, no one but Uncle Thatcher knew aught of his son's visit, not -even his lean, hard-visaged wife, who sometimes wondered "why the boy -didn't write," but to whom, on that subject, he made no reply. He -seemed to grow older and more careworn, day by day, but locked his -pain and grief in his own breast closely. Not only did he cease from -all attempts to influence Mary in his son's behalf, but even, one day, -when he overheard her aunt chiding her sharply for her repulsion of -Silas's suit, he said roughly: - -"Let the girl alone. She is old enough to choose for herself." - -Mary could not understand the change that had come over him, but was -very glad of it, from whatever cause it sprang. - -Dorn had been back twice from West Indian voyages and was again away. -After probably two more voyages they were to be married. It was all -arranged. He had picked out the schooner he intended to buy and knew -her price. He had selected the place he proposed purchasing to build -their home, and already--through Lem Pawlett, who acted under Ruth's -directions, at Mary's instigation--knew what it would cost him; a -modest sum sufficiently within his means. And he even confessed that -he had already bought a lot of furniture and stored it in New Haven, -in one of Mr. Merriwether's lofts. Yet in all these negotiations and -preparations, Dorn had not once been seen in the vicinity of -Easthampton by anybody but his betrothed. Her years of struggle with -Uncle and Aunt Thatcher on the subject of Silas had inspired her with -an overpowering dread of what they might say or do, if they knew that -she actually contemplated the definitely conclusive step of marrying -somebody else than their boy; and yielding to her earnest petitions, -Dorn had consented to keep himself carefully out of sight, until such -time as he was ready to come for her with a pair of fleet horses and -carry her off to Sag Harbor, to make her his wife. - -"But I'm sure I don't know what to make of Uncle Thatcher," said Mary -to her friend Ruth, in the course of one of their little confidential -evening chats in the woods, "for he is kinder to me than he ever was -before, and never once speaks to me about Silas. Sometimes I even -think he might not make much fuss about it if I were to marry Dorn -right under his nose." - -"Don't you trust him for that, Mary. There's no telling how these men -will act, especially the old ones. As a rule, the quieter a man is the -slyer he is, and the more he means mischief. Oh, I tell you, I've -studied Lem, and--But I haven't told you what Lem is going to do. You -know, I suppose, that poor Mrs. Richards has heard at last from her -brother in Philadelphia, and he has sent for her to come to him and -bring her children, and she's going away." - -"Yes. I heard Uncle Thatcher talking about it to-day." - -"Well, that will leave the Van Deust's lower farm without a tenant; -though it hasn't had one, as you may say, since Richards ran away; but -then the Van Deusts let her live along on it and do the best she -could; and I guess that must have been Jacob's doings that she was -allowed to, for I believe that old curmudgeon Peter would have turned -her out when she couldn't pay the rent, if he'd had his own way about -it; and I never did like his looks, anyway, for I never heard of his -having a good word or a pleasant face for any woman yet; and I think -when a man always looks savage when he sees a woman he--" - -"Oh, Ruth! Do go a little slower! You are the wildest talker. And you -do get a person so mixed up." - -"And I get mixed myself sometimes, too. Where was I? Oh, I was saying -that Mrs. Richards was going away, and the Van Deust's lower farm -would be to let. Well, Lem is going up to the Van Deust's to-morrow -morning to get the lease of it, if he can, and Squire Bodley is going -to be his security; and as soon as he gets it, you must try to be -ready, dear, so that we can all get married at the same time, for Lem -is in an awful hurry--and maybe I don't care about waiting a great -while longer myself, either." - -"And neither do we," exclaimed a cheery, hearty voice at her elbow, as -Dorn stepped forward and put his arm around Mary's waist. - -"Oh, you, Dorn Hackett!" cried Ruth, with a little scream. "How you do -frighten a person!" - -"So you've been eaves-dropping, have you, sir?" said Mary, looking up -archly at her lover. - -"No. I was just standing here waiting, in hope of seeing you, and you -girls were so busy talking that you walked right up to me." - -"And how do you come to be at my elbow when I thought you were far -away at sea?" - -"We sailed three days ahead of time, and made a much quicker trip than -usual, so that I am over a week ahead of the time Mr. Merriwether -looked for me. As I was in port, of course I embraced the first -opportunity, when I could leave the schooner in charge of the mate, -and came to see my Mary." - -"How good you are, Dorn," whispered the happy girl, pressing his -hands, and with the love-light in her eyes. - -"And how much I love you!" he whispered in reply. - -"I guess I'd better be getting along home," suggested Ruth, stopping -in the path, in readiness to turn back. - -"Don't let me drive you away," replied Dorn, gallantly. "It has been a -long time since we have met, and I have not yet even asked how you -are." - -"Oh, you see I'm quite well, and you haven't really appeared to me to -be gone away at all, so far as I was concerned, for I've heard so much -about you all the time." - -"Now, Ruth, are you going to tell tales?" protested Mary. - -"Oh, no. I'm no chatterer. Not the least bit. But I know when I'm in -the road, and I know it now. Two are company and three are not. And I -see signs of its getting too warm here for me. So good night, good -folks. I'll leave you to make your arrangements." - -"So as not to keep you waiting a great while," retorted Dorn, -mischievously. - -The merry little maiden blushed and laughed as she turned and ran away -down the path. - -"What a lucky chance that I have found you, darling!" said the young -man low and tenderly, drawing his beloved closely to his side and -walking slowly with her. "And it was only a chance; for of course you -didn't expect me. But if I had not met you here I think I should have -stormed Castle Thatcher to get sight of you. I do not believe I could -have waited until another evening." - -"I wonder if you were so impatient all the three long years you were -away?" - -"No, of course I was not, for I knew just how long a time I had to -look forward to of separation from you, and made my mind up to it. A -man should always be able to make his mind up to bear philosophically -what he knows is inevitable. It is only when he is disappointed in -what he has every reason to expect, that he has any right to growl. -I've always had a great deal of sympathy with the old prophet who got -so mad about the worm. He had made up his mind, no doubt, to stand -like a philosopher the heat of the sun when he hadn't any shelter, -though he did feel the heat mighty bad. But when he got a good shade -over him, and was comfortable, it was enough to make a saint mad to -have a malicious grub come along and cut down his vine." - -"Yes, dear; I think you've got the story fixed up your own way, and -are, maybe, not altogether sound upon its moral. But no matter now. -When do you go away again?" - -"We will not sail for a week or ten days, probably, so that I'll have -a chance to come over and see you again, once at least, before we go. -The owner wants me to wait for the completion of a cargo, and they -can't be got together before about the time he expected me back, -which, as I have already told you, I have forestalled by a week." - -"What is the cargo that you speak of as 'they'?" - -"Mules. And I hate 'em," he replied savagely. - -"You hate them? Why?" - -"Well, of all the satanic brutes, the mule is the worst. He has the -cunning and the malice of an imp. Every minute he is awake he is -either planning or executing some mischief, and he's always awake. My -crew will need a barrel of arnica and an acre of sticking-plaster to -cure them of the bites and kicks they'll get from those mules before -they are landed in the West Indies. And I suppose we'll have to wear -out a wagon-load of hoop-poles on the brutes to keep them from -rolling the schooner upside down." - -"Why, Dorn! How could they do that?" - -"Easily enough. When we are loading them we have to run lines from the -mast-heads to the wharf, to keep them from rolling her over there. -When they are shipped, they have to be tied, head to head, along a -beam running fore and aft, as close as they can well stand. By a -concerted arrangement among themselves, those on one side will sway -their bodies as far back as they can, and those on the opposite will -sway forward. Then they will reverse the motion; and so they'll go -alternately--singing with their sweet voices while they are at -it--backward and forward, giving their motion to the vessel, and -rolling her more and more every moment; and they would very soon have -her on her beam ends if we didn't wade in among them with hoop-poles -to divert them from their fun. And they are liable to play that game -any minute, day or night. Oh, I've taken out one load of mules and -know what to expect of them." - -"Dorn, 'a man should always be able to make his mind up to bear -philosophically what he knows is inevitable.'" - -"Come, I give up. Let's don't talk about mules any more, little -Mollie. I get mad when I think about them--even if they do pay well. -But I have a pleasanter topic. Something to tell you." - -"And that is?" - -"That immediately upon my next return home, which will be in about six -weeks, or seven, at the farthest, we will be married." - -When at length Mary's lover left her that evening and she returned -home, she was surprised to find Aunt Thatcher sitting on the front -door step. - -"Mary Wallace, I want to know where you've been all this night?" -demanded the shrewish woman in a shrill key. - -"I--met Ruth Lenox--and--we talked and walked," answered Mary -hesitatingly, and with very natural evasion of the searching inquiry. - -"And you've got the face to stand there and tell me that? Well, I -expected it of you, and made an errand over to Mrs. Lenox's myself, -and Ruth was at home, where a decent young girl should be at night, -with Lem Pawlett sitting beside her on the porch. So I've caught you -in one story, have I? Now I ask you again where you've been, and I -want to hear what you've got to say for yourself. Not that I expect to -believe a word you say, but I want to hear what kind of a story a -young woman can make up for herself after being out all night, nobody -knows where, or who with." - -"Oh, aunt! I have not been out all night. It is only nine o'clock." - -"It's ten minutes past nine," retorted the shrew, craning her long -neck around over her shoulder to see the face of the tall clock that -stood against the wall near the bureau, upon which a solitary tallow -candle gave a smoky yellow light. - -"Where have you been? I want to know," she demanded again. -"Gallivanting around with some young man, I suppose. I shouldn't -wonder if that Dorn Hackett that you were so much took up with three -years ago, had come snooping around again. Has he? Eh? Why don't you -answer me?" - -"I--I--have nothing to say, aunt." - -"Oho! you've 'nothing to say,'" sneered Aunt Thatcher, mimicking the -girl. "Well, I shouldn't think you would have, after such goings on. I -believe in my soul you've been with that fellow to-night. Can you look -me in the face and tell me you haven't?" - -No, Mary could not look her in the face, or anywhere else, and lie -about it, for she was not accustomed to falsehood, so she held her -peace. - -"Yes, I thought so," continued the termagent, with a snarl of -malicious triumph. "I thought so. And I know what will come of it. Oh, -yes. But you needn't think to stay in my house when everybody comes to -know of your disgrace. You can trapse after your lover, who'll be gone -far enough by that time, no doubt. And what would Silas think of you -if he knew of your conduct? Do you suppose my boy would ever look at a -girl that get's herself talked about as you will? You shameless--" - -"Shut up! There's been enough of this jaw and too much," suddenly -interrupted Uncle Thatcher's rough voice, as he himself appeared in -the door, looking in his night-dress of close-fitting shirt and -drawers even bonier, longer, and more angular than ordinarily; like -the silhouette of a skeleton almost. - -"I don't care! I will speak!" snapped his vixenish wife, turning to -face him. - -"And ef you do I'll choke you." - -"You would? You'd raise your hand to the mother of Silas?" - -"Yes, and wring your blasted neck if you don't mind me when I tell you -to shut up." - -Whether Uncle Thatcher had ever found force necessary to maintain his -authority in the household or not, was best known to him and his wife; -but at all events she did not seem to regard his threat as an idle -one, for with a snort of baffled rage she sprang up and rushed into -the house, without uttering another word. - -Mary was standing with her back toward the door, with her hands -covering her face, and crying. Uncle Thatcher laid one of his big -hands on her shoulder and patting it gently, as he would have soothed -a horse, said to her: - -"Come, little girl. Don't cry any more. I ain't a going to have you -plagued out of your life about that cuss. Go to bed now. And just tell -me if she tries to worry you any more." - -He disappeared inside the door, and Mary, wiping her eyes, followed -him, passing to her little room, but sleep was slow in coming to her -hot eyes and her last waking thought was: - -"Who did uncle mean by 'that cuss'? Was it Dorn or Silas?" - -But at length the weary lids closed and in happy dreamland, far away -from care, and fear, and strife, she wandered with her lover. - -The night wore slowly on. Incoming billows of the rising tide moaned -sullenly upon the sandy beach and sent a rustling hiss through the -shivering reeds and rushes in marshy inlets; whippoorwills piped from -the cover of the leafy wood and drowsy cocks, awaking at the midnight -hour, called to each other from their barn-yard roosts. All other -sounds of motion and of life were hushed, save that an owl darted in -sudden fright from one of the Van Deust elms, at sight of a pale-faced -man who sprang out of a back window of the old homestead and ran down -the lane, looking back over his shoulder and wiping blood from his -hands, as he ran. - - -XI. - -WHAT LEM PAWLETT DISCOVERED. - -It was on the morning succeeding that night, that Lem Pawlett and -Squire Bodley made the discovery of the murder of Jacob Van Deust, as -has already been described. As the reader will remember, the neighbors -assembled about the corpse of the murdered man, believed that they had -grounds for suspecting Peter Van Deust of the assassination of his -brother, and even discussed the advisability of his arrest. He, -unconscious of the ugly rumors afloat about him, and regardless of the -dark looks of those by whom he was surrounded, lay upon his face in -his room, weeping as one without hope for the lifelong companion so -cruelly reft from his side. He had never known, until death parted -them, how dear to him was his gentle-hearted brother and how very -lonely the world would be without him. And every unkind passionate -word he had uttered, and every selfish thought to which the evil -promptings of avarice had given birth in his heart, since that unlucky -fortune came them, seemed now to rise up before him like an accusing -ghost, so that the old man, burying his face in his hands, sobbed -aloud: - -"Oh, Jacob, Jacob! I am so sorry for it all." - -Perhaps the spirit freed from that weak lump of clay in the crimson -pool, might have heard the cry and, knowing the true meaning and the -penitence of the sorrowing heart, have well forgiven; but a neighbor, -leaning against the door-post and peering curiously in at the -grief-stricken old man, turned quickly to his comrade without the -threshold and exclaimed in a low excited whisper: - -"Gosh! Joe. He's just as good as owned up that he did it, and says -he's 'sorry for it' now, 'cause he's scared of being found out." - -And then by the time this had been repeated to a half-dozen--as it was -in little more than as many minutes--those who heard the story last, -learned that Peter had just made to somebody a full confession of -having murdered his brother. But in the very height of the excitement -to which this gave rise, Lem Pawlett, who was still prying about the -room, with something of an instinctive detective genius guiding his -movements, made an important discovery. - -Drawing aside the figured chintz curtains that hung close over the -back window of the dead man's room, he noticed that a mud-wasp's nest -of clay had fallen to the sill, from the place where the insect had -stuck it in the angle of the sash and frame of the window, two or -three feet above. Knowing how firmly the ingenious little builders of -those houses are accustomed to place them, he recognized that some -unusual violence must have been employed to break it loose. That it -had not been intentionally knocked down was probable, else the clay -would not have been left littering the window sill. That the mischief -had been freshly done, was manifest. He tried the sash, and found that -it could easily be lifted. Its only fastening had been a nail, thrust -into a hole in the frame above the sash; but rust had corroded the -nail to merely a thin rotten wire. The head of it came off in his -fingers, when he felt it, and he observed that it had been broken, -with what seemed a fresh fracture, just where it entered the frame. It -must, he thought, have been broken by some one lifting the sash from -without, as a person opening the window from the inside would have -been likely to pull it out first, as a matter of convenience. He -raised the sash fully, and uttered an exclamation of surprise, the -first sound that had called anybody's attention to his investigations. - -There, plain to be seen in the soft black wood of the old sill, were -two deep dents that appeared to have been made by some flat, -square-edged metal instrument, an inch wide. The one beneath that side -of the sash upon which the nail was broken off, was a little the -deepest. Upon the bottom of the sash, on the outer side, were two deep -impressions corresponding with the dents in the sill, and seemingly -made by the same instrument, which, as Lem judged, was some sort of a -stout chisel, used as a lever. All the marks were fresh. - -The loose earth of the little garden just beneath the window, where -the drip of the eaves had kept it soft and damp, showed the treading -there of feet shod in high-heeled and square-toed shoes, or boots, -such as might have been made for city wear, and not at all like those -worn in the country. Following those tracks, they led Lem, and the -crowd now at his elbow, to a point where the weight of a person -crossing the rickety old "worm" fence had broken a rotten rail; and, -near by, one of the high-heeled shoes had trodden down the stem of a -lily that was in its path. The fracture of the rail was fresh, and the -lily, broken from its stem and lying on the humid earth, was not yet -withered. But the high heel had crushed one of its snowy petals. - -In the lane, outside the fence, the tracks were lost. - -The importance of these discoveries was at once apparent, even to the -dullest of comprehension; and there was no longer a question in the -minds of any but that the murder had been committed by some burglar -who had entered through the window, and that old Peter was innocent. -The reflection that there was in the community some one capable of -such an awful deed, or that somebody from the wicked world outside had -come among them to strike so terrible a blow, sent a thrill of mingled -horror and fear through all present. - -"Gracious alive!" exclaimed a very old man, whose hollow cheeks, -sunken and bleary eyes, white hair, and tottering limbs suggested that -the least possible thing of which he could be robbed was his remnant -of life, "we are none of us safe in our beds with such goings on!" - -"No. But the man who did this must be found and punished," responded -Lem Pawlett, excitedly. - -"Sake's a mercy! Who can ever find out such things? The man that did -it isn't going to tell on hisself!" - -"God's finger will point him out," said Squire Bodley, solemnly. - -"Well, maybe so. But--I dunno," murmured the old man, whose faith in -Providence seemed somewhat shaky. - -Squire Bodley picked out a jury, and announced to all assembled that -he would hold the inquest at his office in the village one week from -that date, at six o'clock in the afternoon, at which time he hoped any -person who might meanwhile become cognizant of any new facts that -might have even the smallest possible bearing upon the subject to be -investigated, would come before him and make them known. And--as it is -always the theory among country people that a crime among them must -have been perpetrated by some one from the nearest city--he exhorted -all to use their utmost diligence to learn whether any suspicious -strangers had lately been seen in the neighborhood. - -That afternoon he despatched a message to New York, requesting the -assistance of an experienced professional detective, to aid in -dissipating the mystery that seemed to overhang the murder of poor -old Jacob Van Deust, who, on the second day after his death, was laid -away among the dust of many other Van Deusts in the village graveyard. - - -XII. - -THE INQUEST. - -During the week preceding the inquest, the Van Deust murder was the -constant theme of conversation through all the country-side; and when -the important day arrived upon which Squire Bodley proposed to begin -the official investigation into the affair, people came thronging into -Easthampton from all directions; on horseback, afoot, in old-fashioned -carryalls, and upon rough farm-wagons; as if every homestead within -ten or fifteen miles around had been emptied for the occasion. It was -not mere curiosity by which they were actuated, but an earnest and -widely-spread desire to aid in the discovery and procure the -punishment of the assassin; for in those days there was no community -on Long Island, as there has since appeared to be, in which murder -would be popularly winked at and condoned, and its perpetrators, -though known, permitted to go unscathed of justice. - -Squire Bodley's office was a small, one-story building, without any -other partitions than a railing that shut in about one-third of it, -where his table customarily stood. The sign "Lumber" over its one -door, indicated that the worthy magistrate did not confine his -energies to his judicial duties. There were three windows--one -opposite the door and one in each end--of such a good convenient -height from the ground that a man standing outside could rest his -elbows on either of the sills, and witness comfortably all that -transpired within. Long before the hour for the commencement of the -proceedings, the space outside the railing was densely packed; the -lower halves of the windows were filled with elbows and heads; and as -many people as could find standing room within sight or hearing, upon -wagons drawn up near the windows and door, were already perched and -waiting, while many late comers wandered uneasily about, watching for -some one in the front racks to give out through sheer exhaustion, and -resign his advantageous place. - -As a preliminary proceeding, the Squire had his sashes removed -entirely from their frames, and carried away to a place of safety; but -even yet the little room was oppressively hot and close. Then candles -had to be brought and lighted, for although it was midsummer, when the -days are long, this evening was cloudy, and but little of the dull -light could penetrate through the crowded windows. So it was that it -was almost seven o'clock when the Squire finally got himself seated at -his table, with three candles, pen, ink and paper before him, that he -might write down the evidence, and called the first witness. - -That first witness was Lemuel Pawlett, who was somewhat abashed by his -position, and had a little difficulty, at first, in understanding that -he was required to give a circumstantial account of the finding of the -body of the murdered man, and what followed thereupon. - -"Why, you know all about it, Squire, as well as I do. You were with -me. What's the use of telling you?" - -"But I have to write down your statement, as your evidence, Lem, not -simply for my own knowledge, but for others, to promote the ends of -justice. Go ahead and tell your story as if you were telling it to -these people here, and never mind what I know about it." - -"All right, Squire;" and Lem, turning his back upon the Squire, began -reciting the affair to the audience. "Him and I went up to Van Deust's -a week ago to-day--" - -"Who do you mean by 'him?' Who accompanied you?" - -"Why, you! You yourself, Squire, you know you did!" - -But at length the little difficulty of starting him aright was -overcome, and then Lem went ahead, telling his story in a plain, -straightforward way, and the Squire duly wrote it all down. - -Two neighbors corroborated Lem's narration of the finding of the -traces of the burglarious entry and the flight of the assassin. - -Deacon Harkins volunteered testimony as to having overheard quarrels -and interchange of threats of violence between the Van Deust brothers -more than once. At this old Peter, who sat near the Squire, became -greatly excited. Springing to his feet, trembling with emotion, and -with his voice pitched to a high, unnatural key, he cried: - -"Yes, it is true. I did threaten my brother--God forgive me!--more -than once. I was mean enough, cruel enough, wicked enough to say -harsh, spiteful things to wound that gentle soul; but I never meant -him harm. No. The One above, who reads all hearts, knows well that I -would rather my right hand withered, rather put it into the fire and -burn it off than raise it against Jacob's life. We wrangled sometimes, -as old men will--no, _he_ didn't, the fault was all mine. And oh, to -think that he is gone, without my being able to ask him to forgive -me!" - -His voice broke, and he dropped exhausted upon a chair, letting his -face fall forward upon his arms, on the end of the Squire's table, -where he wept bitterly. - -"Arthur Wiltsey!" called the Squire. - -A stout, plainly dressed, and honest looking countryman took the -stand, and, having been sworn, testified: - -"Last Thursday afternoon--" - -"The day succeeding the discovery of the murder of Jacob Van Deust?" -interrupted Squire Bodley. - -"Yes, sir. The day after the murder. I was passing through the neck of -woods on the lower end of my place--" - -"How far is your place from the Van Deusts'?" asked the Squire. - -"Why, you know, Squire, as well as I do! I bought the place off you." - -"Never mind about what I know. Tell us what you know. How far is your -place from the Van Deusts'?" - -"About a mile and a half." - -"Very well. About a mile and a half. Go on." - -"When near a path that makes a short cut to the Babylon road, I found -these things. They were lying among some huckleberry bushes, and the -white bag was the first thing that caught my eye. Afterwards I saw the -other." - -As he spoke he drew from his pocket and deposited upon the Squire's -table, two objects: an old worn-out sheepskin wallet, and an empty -canvas bag about nine inches long by three in width, and tied around -with a bit of fishing line. - -"The bit of string," continued the witness, "was a few feet away from -the other things; but I judged it might belong to them, and fetched it -along." - -"Have you ever seen these things before, Mr. Van Deust?" asked Squire -Bodley. - -The old man who, buried in his freshly-awakened grief and remorse, had -paid no attention to what was going on until he was called by name, -looked up dazedly. The Squire pushed before him the objects found by -the witness. He looked at them for a few moments, silently and without -moving, as if fascinated by them; then slowly reached out his -trembling hands, and took them up. - -"Yes," he said, with an effort, after having carefully examined them, -"I recognize them. They belonged to my brother Jacob--his wallet and -coin bag. And I know that the wallet, at least, was in his possession -the day before he was found dead." - -Absolute stillness reigned in the dense crowd from the commencement of -Farmer Wiltsey's testimony until the conclusion of Peter Van Deust's -identification of his brother's property; and then such a buzz of -exclamations, and remarks, and conjectures broke out that the Squire -was compelled to rap vigorously on his table, and call "Order!" and -"Silence!" more than once before he could proceed with the business. -But there was little more to be offered. - -One man thought he had heard a horse galloping down the Babylon road -about one o'clock on the morning of the discovery of the murder, but -he did not know if anybody was on the horse, and was not even positive -that it was a horse he heard; it might have been a cow. So his -evidence went for nothing. - -Peter Van Deust testified, very briefly, that the last time he saw his -brother alive was about half-past nine o'clock on the night of his -death. An old gentleman, a friend from New York--their lawyer in -fact--had visited them in the afternoon on business, and had gone away -a little while after supper. Then they sat up somewhat later than -usual, talking over what they would do with their lower farm, which -would be left without a tenant when the Richards family moved away. He -had looked at the clock when he went to bed, and knew it was half-past -nine. Jacob was then in his usual health and spirits, except that he -complained a little of a slight cough, and it was the witness's -impression that his brother, after going to bed, had called old Betsy -to prepare him something to alleviate that. But he was not very sure -about that, as he was almost asleep at the time, and had not thought -to speak to Betsy about it since. - -Squire Bodley hesitated as to whether he should press any inquiry -about the friend from New York, and cast an inquiring look at a -stranger who sat near him. But the stranger, who seemed to understand -perfectly what he would have asked, made a slight negative sign. Still -the Squire was not satisfied and, leaning over to him, whispered: - -"That New Yorker must have been there nearer the time of the murder -than anybody else outside the family; most likely knew the old man had -money in the house, and just where it was kept; may have laid around -until all was quiet, and then gone back to--" - -"It's quite possible he did," interrupted the stranger, in a tone -audible only to the Squire, "and I'm not losing sight of it; but it -won't do to bring out too much on the inquest. He might get wind of -the suspicion against him and skip. Never show your hand if you want -to win." - -"All right," assented the Squire, doubtfully, "if you say so." - -"Oh, yes, it's all right. Keep it shady, and I promise you the man -from New York will be turned up in good time." - -Peter Van Deust's evidence was closed. - -Black Betsy was the last witness. She said that on the night of the -murder, at about half-past ten o'clock, Jacob called her up to prepare -him something for his cough. She was lying down at the time, but not -asleep, as rheumatism mostly troubled her a good deal in the early -part of the night, and went to him as soon as he called. Having made -for him a cough mixture of honey, vinegar, and rum, she gave it to -him; he bade her good-night, and she went back to bed. Being asked how -she knew it was half-past ten when he called her, she said that she -knew it by the line of the full moonshine on her floor, and was -positive that she could not have been more than ten minutes wrong at -farthest. After returning to her bed the rheumatism kept her awake -about an hour, she supposed, or maybe an hour and a half. Then she -dropped asleep, and did not awake until called up by Squire Bodley and -Mr. Pawlett. Her hearing, she affirmed, was very good, and she was -sure that from the time she gave Jacob his medicine until she went to -sleep there were no unusual noises about the house. - - -XIII. - -A STAB IN THE DARK. - -Squire Bodley adjourned the inquest for another week, in the hope that -there might be discovered in the interim some further evidence, and -his sweltering office was quickly cleared of jury, witnesses, and -auditors, all save one man, the stranger to whom he had whispered -while Peter Van Deust was on the stand. That person, a ruddy, -smooth-faced man of medium height, and probably forty or forty-five -years of age, with nothing distinctive about his appearance except, -perhaps, a pair of very keen gray eyes, was the detective who had been -sent from New York to apply his sagacity to ferreting out, if -possible, the robber and assassin of Jacob Van Deust. - -"Well, Mr. Turner," said the Squire, lighting his one remaining candle -by the flickering flame of the last surviving of the three that had -melted and guttered down to the sockets of the candlesticks, "I guess -this will be light enough for us to see to talk a little by. What do -you think of the case?" - -"It isn't so blind as some I've had hold of, and cleared up, too; but -it is dark enough, nevertheless. All I can see that we may say we -think we know is, that the old man was killed, probably after 11:30 or -12 o'clock at night, by a burglar who got into his window by means of -a jimmy and who, after killing him and robbing the premises, escaped -by the Babylon road, most likely." - -"I neglected to bring it out when he was on the stand, but Peter has -told me that some other articles besides the money are missing; a set -of garnet jewellery belonging to his mother that Jacob always kept in -his room; an old silver watch and a heavy square onyx seal, with a -foul anchor cut on one side of it. None of them of any great value." - -"It's just as well you didn't mention them; just as well or better. -Such things, if looked for quietly, and nothing said about them, are -sometimes valuable clues. And it is well you didn't ask about the -lawyer from New York. All these are things we will have to look into -quietly. There's nothing like doing things quietly. The great trouble -about inquests, generally is, that they bring out the very things -which put criminals on their guard, and so make the detective's work -all the harder--sometimes even baffle him altogether." - -"Squire, are you busy?" demanded a sharp nasal voice. - -The two men looking up, and shading the candlelight from their eyes -with their hands, saw standing in the door a tall, thin, -scraggy-looking woman, wearing a sun-bonnet. - -"No, not particularly. Walk in, Mrs. Thatcher, walk in. What can I do -for you?" replied the Squire. - -The woman came forward with shuffling, hesitating steps; paused, made -a furtive attempt to poke up out of sight the wisp of unkempt sandy -hair, dangling in its accustomed place on the back of her neck; and -finally answered, with a doubtful look at the stranger: - -"Well, I had something to tell you, private-like, about that murder." - -"Indeed! Well, you can speak right out before this gentleman. He is -helping me to inquire into it. But why, if you have anything to tell, -did you not come up to the inquest?" - -"I didn't care to speak before so many folks; and I thought it would -be better to tell you quietly." - -"And what is it you have to tell me?" - -"I expect, Squire, I know who killed Jake Van Deust." - -"The deuce you do!" exclaimed the detective, bouncing in his seat. - -"Yes, sir; I was told what the Squire said a week ago to-day about -suspicious strangers in the neighborhood, and I thought to myself, I -know of one, and I ought to tell him." - -"Well?" - -"Well, it's a young man who used to live in this neighborhood, but who -disappeared--ran away, I guess, for some reason best known to -himself--about three years ago or a little better. He's been back -lately, hiding around in the woods and meeting a foolish girl--" - -"Aha!" interrupted the detective, with a chuckle, and rubbing his -hands; "if there's a girl in the case, we'll have him, sure." - -"Yes, sir, a foolish girl, who don't know the sin and the shame of -what she's a-doing. And as far as I can find out, he has kept himself -out of sight of everybody but her. But he was about the neighborhood -late on the night that Jake Van Deust was killed--that I'm sure of; -and met the girl that night--I know he did." - -"And who is the girl?" - -"My niece, Mary Wallace, sir. The more's the pity!" - -"And the young man?" - -"His name is Dorman Hackett." - -Squire Bodley gave a gasp of surprise. He remembered Dorn Hackett as a -strong, handsome orphan lad who had grown up almost to manhood in the -neighborhood; a young fellow with a fine, frank, courageous face, and -of whom he had never before heard an evil word; but he remembered, -too, now that he came to think of it, that he had not seen the young -fellow for a long time; and sighed to think that even the best boys -sometimes grow up to be very wicked men when exposed to the -temptations of vicious life in the great cities, and it was possible -that Dorn Hackett, like many others, "had gone to the bad." - -"You say that this young man has been away for three years?" asked the -detective. - -"He hasn't dared to let anybody here, except that girl, see his face -for that long." - -"And of course you know nothing of where he has been, and what he has -been doing all that time?" - -"No; how should I? Loafing around New York, I dare say. Such -characters mostly goes there." - -"Around New York, eh? If he's a New York thief, I'll be sure to know -him. If we only knew what he's been doing." - -"What would a fellow be likely to be doing who has no trade, and no -money, and no home, and no respectable friends, and nobody to see to -him?" snapped Aunt Thatcher. - -"He might have told your niece." - -"If he did, she wouldn't be likely to tell me. It's as much as I could -do to find out that he was sneaking around here in the woods, late on -the night Jake Van Deust was killed." - -"She met him that night, did she?" - -"Yes, she did." - -"What kind of a looking person in this Hackett?" - -"A big, ugly, red-headed fellow, with a face like a bull-dog." - -Squire Bodley smiled gently to himself, thinking how such a -description would be apt to assist the detective. He had penetration -enough to discern that there was some animus in the woman's mind -stronger than a mere desire to aid the ends of justice; but said -nothing about it at the time, feeling a little timid about seeming to -interfere in the work of the professional detective. - -When Mr. Turner and the squire had both thanked Mrs. Thatcher for her -"valuable information," she took her departure, and the two men were -left alone to discuss the course to be pursued. Squire Bodley had a -very good opinion of Mary Wallace; and if he had had his own way would -have directly questioned her about her lover; but against that course -the detective strenuously protested. Direct ways are never the chosen -methods of the professional fishers of men. - -"By no means," said he. "Let the girl know that her lover is suspected -and she will be sure to get word to him somehow and he'll be off. Not -a word about it to anybody. Leave me to work it out my own way, and my -name isn't Richard Turner if I don't soon lay my hand on the shoulder -of Dorman Hackett." - - -XIV. - -A JOLLY, JOLLY SHIPMATE. - -"The Whaler's Haven" was in those days a place of no small pretensions -and of no mean fame among the sailormen of New London, which was then -quite an important shipping town, especially for the whaling interest. - -Railroad tracks now cover the ground it then occupied, and the cutting -away of the bluff in that vicinity, to give place for some heavy -industries that require to be near the water and the iron road, has -completely changed the appearance of all the surroundings, even, of -that once favorite resort of the marine element of the population of -the town, so that not one trace of it remains, save in memory. But it -is not of the present we have to treat, or the many changes--some of -them very sad ones--that have been wrought in the maritime interests -of our coast. Our story dates back to a time when a big American flag -floated above a long and wide two-story frame building where those -railroad tracks now lie; a building that was further adorned, as to -its peak, by a carved and painted wooden statue of the goddess of -liberty, that seemed to have been the figurehead of some vessel; and -as to its front, by a very widely-spread and gayly-gilded American -eagle, holding in its beak, over the door, a huge and brilliantly red -scroll, upon the flaming convolutions of which, in brightest blue, one -might read the legend "The Whaler's Haven." - -By day, there was little, except its size, to distinguish the Haven, -to the eye of the casual observer, from several other establishments -of kindred character in the vicinity; but at night, in the figurative -language of Jonathan Schoolcraft, its proprietor, "the eagle -screamed." Then, until hours that were at once late and early--late -for revel and early for labor--the fiddle squeaked out jigs and reels; -the thumps and shuffles of dancing feet made the walls vibrate and the -windows jingle; glasses clinked merrily; noisy laughter, cheers, and -sometimes--but not often--sounds of quarrel, broke upon the night. It -was Schoolcraft's boast "that a sailor never was robbed in this -house;" and, truth to tell, he made the claim good, farther than most -men do who keep such establishments and make like affirmations. Over -the little bar, near the front door was a sign in letters so prominent -that they might have been regarded as a sort of painted shout, -commanding patrons of the house: "Have your fun in a decent way;" and -Jonathan was never weary of repeating that counsel to his guests. He -would not let a sailor in his house get too drunk--that is, too drunk -to be able to find his money, when the liquor was to be paid for--and -he was sternly opposed to fights in the Haven; for, as he said, "they -break the peace, and break heads, and sometimes break glasses, which -is worst of all." - -One sultry evening in July, when it was too hot to dance and almost -too warm to drink rum, a cloud of dullness seemed to settle down upon -the Whaler's Haven. Jonathan himself went out for a walk, to get cool; -the barkeeper languidly leaned over the bar and yawned; only four or -five sailors--boarders in the Haven when on shore--lounged between the -door and the bar, "swapping yarns" concerning their seagoing -experiences, and all feeling so depressed and spiritless, through the -heat, that they almost stuck to the truth in their narrations; and two -or three of them were talking of going to bed, when a stranger, who -was evidently not a sailor, entered, called for a drink, and invited -all present to join him. A stranger who was not a sailor was always -the object of a little suspicion in the Haven; still none present -cared about offending one who introduced himself so courteously, and -the waiting sailors took their rum just as naturally as if liking, and -not simply complaisance, gave it its relish. Then one of them returned -the stranger's treat and soon another; and another, so that in a -little while the heat was forgotten, tongues began to wag freely, the -yarns became much more spirited, and the impression gained ground that -the stranger was a right good fellow. - -And so it was that, without his ever being able to tell exactly how it -came about, Billy Prangle, a stout old sailor, found himself in almost -confidential conversation with the pleasant stranger--a smooth-shaven, -gray-eyed, ruddy man of forty or forty-five years--upon the subject of -his friend and ex-shipmate, Dorn Hackett. - -"A nobler, braver lad never signed articles," said he, "nor a better -sailorman. We messed together for three years; and take him by and -large, alow and aloft, I make bold to say that of the sixteen men in -the fo'cas'le,--and all good men, too, mind you--he was the best." - -"I'm delighted to hear you speak so highly of him," replied the -stranger, with apparent heartiness, "How long is it since you sailed -with him?" - -"Only a little better than four months ago. We came off the cruise -together, fishing in the North Pacific." - -"Fishing? I thought you said he was in a whaling vessel?" - -"Well, so I did, my hearty. We calls whales fishes. When we speak of -taking a whale we always says taking a fish." - -"Ah, excuse me. I didn't understand. And where is your friend now?" - -At this moment one of the old sailors called him aside and said to him -in an undertone: - -"Mind your eye, Billy. I've been a listenin' to you and that lubber -that doesn't know a whale's a fish, and it looks squally to me. As I -make him out, he's been a leadin' you on to talk about Dorn Hackett, -and maybe it ain't for Dorn's good he means it." - -"If I thought he meant the boy any harm he'd get his nose rove foul in -the shake of a fluke." - -"Well, just keep your weather eye skinned on him." - -"But, shipmate, it's as good as saying that Dorn may be in some sort -of a scrape to be afraid to talk about him." - -"And so he may; and small blame to him, either, bein' a likely young -fellow as he is. Shore is a mighty dangersome place for a good-looking -young fellow like him." - -"Right you are, shipmate," assented Billy, solemnly shaking hands -before returning to his conversation with the stranger. From that time -he did watch carefully; and having a little natural cunning of his -own, managed to evade the numerous and artfully-put inquiries with -which he was plied, and still to draw the stranger on, with hope of -information, until he satisfied himself that his comrade's warning was -not uncalled for. - -While this was going on the drinks were call on freely, and the -stranger unconsciously was falling a victim to the fiery potency of -the rum--a beverage to which he was not accustomed. He had tried to -evade anything more than a mere show of drinking it, but believed that -this was looked upon with such suspicion by all about him, that it was -better for him to drink and trust to the hardness of his head to carry -the liquor off safely. Little he knew how much he lacked of being a -match for that tough old tar, Billy Prangle, in the consumption of -that seductive but treacherous fluid. Gradually he lost his customary -caution; and finding himself baffled in all his attempts to "pump" the -old sailor, conceived that it would be a good idea to offer Billy a -hundred dollars if he would conduct him to and point out Dorn Hackett. -"That sum," he thought to himself, "would tempt a man like him to do -almost anything to gain it." So he made the proffer. Billy heard the -proposition gravely, and even feigned to view it favorably; but -manifested a great deal of curiosity as to why his ex-shipmate was in -such demand. - -The stranger felt that he had gone too far for any reticence to be of -service, now, and that perhaps a confidence might make him more secure -of this valuable ally; so he replied: "I'll tell you; but mind you're -not to say a word about it to any living soul until we have captured -him." - -"Would I be likely to throw away a chance to make a hundred dollars?" -exclaimed Billy. - -That answer, critically considered, could hardly have been deemed a -promise; but the stranger took it for one, and continued in a -confidential tone: - -"He's wanted for murder and robbery." - -"Murder and robbery! Dorn Hackett?" - -"Yes, the murder and robbery of an old man near Easthampton, Long -Island, where he has been going to see his sweetheart, a girl named -Mary Wallace." - -"And you tell me that Dorn Hackett is suspected of a thing like that?" - -"Yes, indeed, he is. He was in the neighborhood on the night of the -murder, and everything points to him; and I bet my head--" - -"That you are a lying, landlubberly--" broke out Billy Prangle, in a -torrent of quite unreportable expletives, the unregenerate lingo of -the fo'cas'le; and before the stranger recovered from his -astonishment, the indignant tar had commenced to make good that threat -with reference to his nose. - -Mr. Turner--for the stranger, now rolling on the floor with Billy, was -no other than that experienced professional detective--was a sturdy -fellow, well able, ordinarily, to take care of himself, and made as -good a fight as he could; but even had he been entirely sober he would -hardly have been able to cope with this sinewy son of the sea who -smote him so suddenly. While they struggled on the floor, Billy's -friends looked on with placid interest; interfering not, nor -questioning, and seemingly cheerfully confident of the result. The -barkeeper--Schoolcraft being away--seemed to enjoy the excitement, and -leaned over the bar to get a better view, while he shouted -encouragingly: "Go in, Billy! Wade in, old man!" - -And Billy followed the advice so well that it was not long until the -detective cried "enough," and was allowed to get up; when Billy led -him to the door and dismissed him with a parting kick. - -Self-reproachfully, and much humbled in spirit by his defeat, Richard -Turner left the Haven. But it was not in his nature to give up a chase -for one defeat. If he had not genius, he at least had that which is -sometimes almost as good--persistence. He did not even waste time in -thinking about the whipping and the kicking he had received, but he -did reflect that it was something singular that a poor old chap like -that sailor should have thrown a chance away whereby he might have -gained one hundred dollars so easily--merely by selling a friend, -perhaps to the gallows. Would he, Richard Turner, have been so stupid? -"Hardly," he said to himself. But he had to accept facts as he found -them, however strange they might seem, and the two most prominent ones -claiming his attention were: first, that he had made a blunder; -second, that he must work all the more rapidly to forestall the -possible chances of his indiscretion leading to the escape of the man -he hunted. Fortunately, the whipping had sobered him completely; and -having repaired as well as he could the damages he had sustained in -person and raiment, he continued until late at night, in other -sailor's haunts, his pursuit of information, but took care to give a -wide berth to the "Whaler's Haven." Before daylight he left the place -in a fast sloop and with a fair wind, bound for New Haven. There -fickle fortune made him amends for her unkind humor at New London, and -facts that seemed to go far toward establishing Dorn Hackett's guilt -came readily to his knowledge. The most important were these: - -On the afternoon preceding the murder of Jacob Van Deust the young man -went over to Long Island on Mr. Hollis's sloop. Nobody but himself -knew why he went. The men on the sloop expected him to return to New -Haven with them that night, but he did not do so. They left the Long -Island shore about the hour that it was supposed the murder was -perpetrated and, presumably, before he could have run from Van Deusts' -to the cove where the sloop laid. When he re-appeared in New Haven the -next morning his clothing was dabbled with blood; and his hands, -though he had evidently tried to wash them, still showed sanguinary -stains. He said that the blood was his own; that he had a severe fall -while running through the woods on Long Island. That he had fallen -seemed probable, since he had a bad cut on his head and one ankle was -lame; but that the blood was all his own, at least admitted of -question. Why he had been running through the woods he did not say; -but it was natural to suppose that he had been trying to reach the -sloop and get to New Haven as quickly as possible, to make ground for -claiming an alibi in case he should be suspected of the murder. - -The other significant discoveries that the detective made, and what he -did in New Haven, will be noted in their proper place. Suffice it here -to say, that the agent of justice felt that he had reason to -congratulate himself upon a triumph. - -Billy Prangle, when he had kicked out the tempter, lost no time in -fully imparting to his comrades the excellent cause he had for his -suddenly violent conduct, and was heartily censured by all for not -hammering the stranger twice as much. - -"What?--Dorn Hackett guilty of murder and robbery?" - -They who had known him for years; sailed with him; messed with him; -faced death by his side in the tempest and the perilous chase of the -monsters of the deep, knew how absurd such a charge must be. Every man -of them had belonged to the same crew with Dorn for three years, and -there was not one of them who did not groan to think that he had not -had Billy's chance at the stranger. In consultation among them, it was -unanimously resolved that it was plainly their duty to take the matter -in hand. - -"Jerry Slate has got a fast little sloop," said Billy Prangle, "that I -can borrow to take me over to Napeague. I'll go there and see that -girl of Dorn's that he spoke of--Mary Wallace, he called her. Here, -you barkeep', log that on a bit of paper for me, so that I won't let -it go adrift. You, Sam, go down by Wainright's packet in the morning -to New Haven, which it was the last place I heard of Dorn hailing -from, and see that you find him and tell him all about it." - -Thus the jolly tars arranged it among themselves to serve their friend -as best they could. And so it was that, on the afternoon of the -succeeding day, a weather-beaten old sailor--Billy Prangle -himself--after various inquiries in the neighborhood, "ranged -alongside" of Uncle Thatcher's house, asking for "a gal by the name of -Mary Wallace." - -"What do you want?" demanded Aunt Thatcher, who happened to "answer -his hail." - -"Be you Mary Wallace?" asked Billy, with an affectation of profound -astonishment. - -"No, I ain't. But I'm her aunt, and you can tell me your business." - -"Right you are, old gal, I can; but I'll see you furder, first," -replied the unabashed veteran, who had already been told by some -neighbor that she was a "snorter." - -"What do you mean, you impudent fellow?" - -"I always does my business with the principals, mum." - -Mrs. Thatcher slammed the door in his face and retired. But half an -hour afterward, when she happened to be out in the yard, she saw that -the sailor had lighted his pipe, seated himself on the stone step at -the door, and literally laid siege to the house. She reflected that -Uncle Thatcher would soon be home to his supper; and in view of the -strange way he had acted of late, did not know how he might take it -into his head to look upon her treatment of the visitor. Tartar as she -was, she had a wholesome respect for him when he chose to assert -himself, and deemed it most prudent to avoid an encounter. - -With an ill-grace she went to Mary, who was sewing in her room, and -said snarlingly: - -"There's an old vagabond at the door who wants to see you." - -Mary went out and found Billy calmly puffing his pipe and waiting. He -looked up at the sound of the opening of the door, and seeing the tall -handsome girl who stood there, sprang to his feet, with a beaming -smile and outstretched hand, saying: - -"Ah! You're the right one. I thought I'd fetch you." - -Mary gave him her hand, smilingly asking: - -"Did you wish to see me, sir?" - -"Yes; the mate has been out here trying to rig the pump on me, but it -wouldn't draw. What I'm here for concerns nobody but you and Dorn. -Come out to the gate, for she's a listening beside that window. I just -see the curtain shake." - -Mary started at mention of her lover's name by this stranger, and -unhesitatingly accompanied him as he requested; while Aunt Thatcher, -who was indeed listening by the window, could almost have torn her -sun-bonnet strings with vexation and rage when they passed beyond -range of her hearing. - -Billy, like many other maladroits, flattered himself that he had no -little skill in conducting a delicate mission, and thought it was -rather a neat way of sparing the girl's feelings to affect to be very -busy refilling his pipe, without looking at her, as he put the blunt -question: - -"Be you Dorn Hackett's sweetheart?" - -Mary blushed and stammered, not knowing what to reply. - -"'Cause," continued Billy, "he's maybe in some trouble." - -Trouble! Trouble for Dorn! That thought swept away in an instant her -timidity and maiden bashfulness, and anxiously she replied: - -"Yes, yes; he is very dear to me. What is it? What has happened to -him? Tell me quickly!" - -"Don't get excited. It ain't no great matter. But they are looking for -him to arrest him." - -"Arrest Dorn? For what?" - -"Murder and robbery." - -Mary gave a little cry and would have fallen, had not Billy caught -her; and holding her against the fence, awkwardly enough, but firmly, -adjured her: - -"Steady, steady! Brace up! Hold hard!" - -In a few moments she regained sufficient control over herself to -listen while the old sailor related to her, with characteristic -circumstantiality of detail, all the events of the preceding evening -leading up to his visit to her. She did not for an instant imagine -that Dorn could possibly have been guilty of such crimes, but the mere -idea of his being suspected of them so horrified her as almost to -deprive her of the power of reasoning. How could he have fallen under -suspicion? How could it come to be known that he was in the -neighborhood on that fatal night? There was but one person, she -believed, besides herself who knew of his visit, and that was Ruth -Lenox. Ah, yes! There was her aunt, who suspected it at least, and who -had questioned her so sharply about him. Ruth Lenox would never have -breathed such a foul calumny against Dorn. But her aunt? "Yes, it -would be just like her," thought Mary. - -Billy had no further information to impart, no advice to give, and no -consolations to offer. The latter would have been especially out of -his line. It seemed to him enough to give a person warning to look out -for him or herself, as the case might be; which, he reasoned, would be -all he would require under any circumstances; and so, having -discharged his errand to the best of his ability in the manner we have -seen, he relighted his pipe and "got under way," with a clear -conscience as to having done his duty by a shipmate. - - -XV. - -AND THE TROUBLE BEGINS. - -Ruth Lenox was, just at this time, on a brief visit to the house of a -married brother, who lived near Babylon; so that Mary was not able to -consult with her only confidante until the second day after Billy -Prangle's visit. Who could tell the agony of mind she felt during that -time as the leaden hours dragged slowly by? It seemed to her fearful -and excited imagination as if at any moment she was liable to hear of -her lover's capture and imprisonment, and she was powerless to do -aught to save him. One hope only suggested itself to her mind: that he -might have sailed away from New Haven before his pursuers could reach -him, and that by the time of his return from the West Indies the real -murderer might be discovered, and the foul suspicion against Dorn -entirely dissipated. But she was not left to cherish in peace even -that small germ of comfort, for Aunt Thatcher, with the astuteness and -malice of a feminine fiend--and if there is a distinction of sex among -the devils, the female ones must surely be far the worst--divined that -the sailor who visited Mary had come from Dorn, or in his interest, -and embittered every hour of the poor girl's life by the wagging of -her venomous tongue. As soon as Billy had gone away she demanded to -know what his business was; and receiving no reply--for Mary felt that -she would rather have died than give her aunt the satisfaction of -knowing the hideous intelligence he brought--proceeded to treat the -subject in her own lively fashion. - -"Oho! So you don't want to tell! Well, I don't wonder at it. I'd be -ashamed, too, if I was in your place. But I can guess without your -telling me. It's some word from Dorn Hackett, I'll be bound. Wants you -to go and take up with him while he's in port, maybe. If you do, you -needn't think to come back here with your disgrace. I s'pose he thinks -he's got a heap of money now. Did he let you know how much he got by -killing old Jake Van Deust?" - -"Oh, aunt!" exclaimed Mary. "You know that is a wicked falsehood! You -know Dorn never would have done such a thing!" - -"Don't tell me I lie, you impudent, deceitful, good-for-nothing hussy! -Don't you dare to talk back to me! I know what I know! Oh, I'll have -the satisfaction of seeing him hanged yet!" - -Mary burst into tears and left the house. That bit of dialogue was a -sample of what the heart-sick miserable girl had to endure constantly -when Uncle Thatcher was not present. When he was by, the vixen did -not dare to torment her victim, and Mary might have had a stop put to -the woman's malignant attacks had she appealed to him; but from that -extreme measure she revolted. - -When Ruth returned home Mary hastened to her with her load of -troubles, and was not disappointed in her expectation of sympathy and -consolation. - -"Don't you be afraid, dear," said little Ruth, in a very confident and -protecting tone. "It will be all right. You'll see that it will. I'll -make Lem fix it." - -"Lem?" - -"Yes. He shall go and find out who did kill Mr. Van Deust, and then -I'm sure there can't be any more talk about Dorn. And I know, just as -well as anything, that it was all started by that spiteful, wicked old -aunt of yours. Lem told me, the night before I went away, that he saw -her go into the Squire's office the evening of the inquest, after -everybody else was gone but a strange man, and she stayed a long time; -and I'd just risk my neck on it that that was the time she put him up -to the notion of Dorn doing it. And I think he might have had more -sense--a man like him, who has known him from he was a boy, and no -stranger to what she is. But don't be afraid, dear. I'll start Lem -right out to catch the real murderer, and I'll tell him I won't marry -him until he finds him; and that'll bring him to his senses, I guess, -for he's getting in an awful hurry about it." - -Ruth was very earnest and emphatic, and her friend understood and was -comforted by her, although it was not always easy to comprehend the -breathless torrent of words that the energetic little maid poured -forth, with reckless disregard alike of punctuation and of pronouns, -when she became excited, as she now was. - -Lem was very reluctant to undertake the task that Ruth sought to -impose upon him. - -"It ain't my business," he protested, "and I don't know anything about -it. I wouldn't even know how to begin. How would I look going around -the country asking people, 'who killed Jake Van Deust?' And I swon I -don't know any other way to tackle the job. Squire Bodley told me he's -got a real sharp fellow from New York at work--a chap that makes a -business of catching thieves and murderers, and knows all about it. -And I might do no end of mischief if I went to meddling." - -"Now don't talk to me that way, Lem Pawlett. I won't have it. You've -got a heap more sense than you give yourself credit for, and more than -most people would think, to look at you, I must say. Wasn't it you -that found the marks on the window, and tracked the murderer out to -the lane? Of course it was. None of them gawks standing around saw -anything until you showed it to them. And as for that smart chap from -New York--why, he's the very one that went and bleated out his -business to a lot of sailors in New London,--Dorn's friends all of -them,--and they thrashed him, and served him right, too. And that's -how we come to know about his being after Dorn, which, if he had any -sense, he wouldn't be. And you've got to find some way to clear Dorn -for Mary's sake, or I'll never forgive you, and I won't marry you -until Dorn and Mary can stand up with us, and--so there, now." - -Lem started home that evening, after his interview with Ruth, in a -very despondent mood, and at a much earlier hour than usual, almost -inclined to rebel against her authority, yet feeling that he must -eventually succumb to her will. As he strolled moodily down the -village street, wondering "what on earth" he should do, and thinking, -as he subsequently confessed, that perhaps it might be as well to -amuse Ruth by letting her imagine him very busy in Dorn's affairs, -while he simply left matters to take their own course, confiding in -Dorn coming out all right somehow, at last, his attention was -attracted to the presence of an unwonted number of persons in the -principal store, and the prevalence among them of some unusual -excitement. Entering to learn what was going on he was just in time -to hear the mail-rider, who had arrived but a little before, conclude -a sentence with the words "and so he's in Sag Harbor jail already." - -"Who's in jail?" Lem demanded, with a sinking at the heart, for he -well knew that no idle putting off would do for Ruth if her friend's -lover were really locked up. - -"Dorn Hackett," replied the mail-rider, proud of his news, and glad to -have the opportunity of repetition to a new auditor,--"for the murder -and robbery of Jacob Van Deust." - -"Nonsense!" exclaimed Lem. - -"It's so, I tell you. They caught him in New Haven last night. If -they'd missed him until to-day, he'd have been off for the West -Indies; but a New York officer, who got on his track in New London, -caught him. And they say he fought like a tiger. Both the officer's -eyes are blacked; but one of 'em is a little staler color than the -other, and I guess he must have been in two musses lately. Anyhow, he -had two New Haven constables to help him to put handcuffs on Dorn, and -then they brought him over in a sloop; and so he's in Sag Harbor jail -already." - -"Him that sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed. The -Lord wouldn't let him escape," snuffled Deacon Harkins from his perch -on the sugar barrel. - -"That's what comes of young men leaving their homes where they were -brought up, and going off to the big cities to make their fortunes and -get into evil ways," sagely observed the store-keeper, reflectively, -chipping off a bit of cheese for himself. - -"Yes." "That's so." "Just what a body might have expected," murmured -several voices. - -"How do they know he did it?" asked Lem, in an aggressive tone, -resenting the willing acceptance of Dorn's probable guilt, which was -manifestly the disposition of the group about him. - -"Ain't he arrested? What more d'ye want?" retorted Deacon Harkins. - -"Oh! That's reason enough for you, is it? That's the sort of a -Christian you are! Condemn a man before he's tried! Hang him on -suspicion! As if the law never got hold of the wrong person! Well, I -don't believe Dorn Hackett was the chap that ever would have done such -a deed, and I don't care if he was arrested a hundred times, I'd bet -my life no jury but a jury of Deacon Harkins's would ever find him -guilty." - -"There goes another young man I don't never expect any good of," -remarked Deacon Harkins, in a self-satisfied tone, as though his -condemnation quite settled the here and the hereafter of Lem Pawlett, -as that young man, having "said his say," strode out angrily, and went -on his way. - -But Lem heard him not, and would have cared little if he had, for just -then his mind was busy with a new and firm resolve. - -"I'll do it," he muttered to himself, "to spite that consarned old -deacon, who never was known to have a good word for anybody, as much -as to please Ruth! I'll save Dorn Hackett; by the great horn spoon, I -will!" - - -XVI. - -LEM OPENS THE CAMPAIGN. - -Dorn Hackett sat moodily upon his low bed in a little cell of Sag -Harbor jail. His elbows rested upon his knees, and his aching brow was -supported by his palms pressed against his temples. He might, had he -wished to do so, have caught a glimpse of sunshine through the narrow -window high up in the wall; might have seen the green branches of the -venerable elm that, swayed by the wind, swept its foliage from time to -time across that little space of sky; might have heard the blithe -carols of the song-birds that flitted among the old tree's boughs, and -even perched and sang upon the stone window ledge; but he had no heart -to look anywhere but on the ground; no thought for aught but his own -misery and shame. It seemed to him a terrible thing that he should be -locked in a jail. What would Mary say when she learned of it, as she -inevitably must? Ah! She would not believe that he could be guilty, -certainly not; but the shame of him would break her heart. - -His life had hitherto been one singularly free from reproach, and of -the many things to which even passably good men become accustomed and -hardened, by contact with the world, he was almost as innocent as his -sweetheart herself. He had not gone off to a big city to make his -fortune and fall into evil ways, as the Easthampton storekeeper had -said. Out of the three years and some months since he quitted the -village, he had spent, altogether, but a few weeks on shore. He had -been out at sea, doing bravely and well the manly work to which he had -dedicated himself, and from even the ruder and, to some natures, -demoralizing influences by which he was there surrounded, he had been -protected by the purifying charm of his ever-faithful love. A -retrospective view of his whole life brought to his memory no thought -of regret or shame for aught that he had done, no remembrance of -anything he would have wished to hide from the knowledge of her he -loved best, and in whose regard he had most desire to stand well. - -But there was one thing that, were it to do over again, he would not -have repeated. He would not have knocked down the officer who came to -arrest him, as he did in his first natural heat of indignation at -hearing himself charged with being an assassin and a thief. No, he -would not do that over again, for after he was ironed he had heard men -say that he did it in a desperate hope of escape, and that he would -not have done it if he had not been guilty. And yet it seemed to him -the most natural thing for an innocent man to do under the -circumstances. Could he have imagined that such a construction would -be put upon it? And now what had he to look forward to? He knew -nothing, absolutely, of the murder, of the inquest, or of the grounds -upon which he was suspected, save that he had a vague remembrance of -hearing it said, amid the excitement attendant upon his arrest, that -he had been in the vicinity of where Mr. Van Deust was murdered, on -the night that the old man was killed. Yes, that was probably true; -and how could he prove, or even state, the innocent purpose of his -presence there. Could he ask Mary to come into court and testify to -their love-meeting in the woods? No. Not even to save his life. - -His reflections were broken by the sound of footsteps in the corridor -without, and the sound of the jailor's voice saying: - -"This is his cell." - -The prisoner looked up and met the frank, kindly face and outstretched -hand of Lem Pawlett. - -"Well, Dorn, old fellow, I'm mightily sorry to see you here," he said -cordially, as the jailor walked away, leaving him standing in front of -the grated iron door of the cell, through which his hand was thrust to -grasp that of Mary's lover. - -"Does--do they know of it?" stammered Dorn. - -"Does Mary, you mean. Well, yes, I guess she does. Uncle Thatcher was -at the store last night when the mail-rider brought the news, and he -has most probably mentioned it at home. But, Lord bless you man! she -don't think anything of it. Cheer up. Don't get down in the mouth. She -won't believe a word against you, you may be sure. And it don't come -on her like a shock, as it were, because she has been expecting it." - -"She expected it?" - -"Yes. She has known for two or three days that they were after you, -but had no way of getting any word to you." - -"But how did they come to be after me?" - -"That was Aunt Thatcher's doings, I believe; but I'll tell you all -about it, as far as I know." - -Thereupon the good fellow proceeded to give as full and correct an -account, as his information enabled, of the facts already better known -to the reader, beginning his narrative with the discovery of the -murder and concluding it with an expression of his determination of -the night before, to "try to straighten out the tangle." - -"God bless you, old fellow," responded Dorn, with tears of gratitude -in his eyes. "I can't tell you how it warms my heart to have one -friend stand by me in a time like this. But little did I ever think, -when we were boys playing together, that you would ever have to do -such a thing for me." - -"That's all right, Dorn. Don't say any more about it. I'll be glad if -I can do anything, and so will Ruth and Mary. And now, let's see what -is to be done. The first thing is for you to tell me, as clearly and -exactly as you can, every incident you can remember of where you were -and what you did that night." - -"Everything is as clear in my mind as the occurrences of yesterday. -Let me begin at the beginning. I reached New Haven in the forenoon of -that day, and, having made a much quicker voyage than was expected, -found that I would have several days at my disposal. Of course my -first thought was of going to see Mary. I left the schooner in charge -of the mate, to see to the taking out of her cargo while I was gone, -and got a man named Hollis to bring me over to Napeague in a little -fishing smack. He had to come, any way, to get a couple of pipes of -rum that had rolled off a trader's deck one night. I left him at the -beach, telling him that if I did not meet him there at half past nine -o'clock that evening he need not wait for me, as I might have to -remain over a day, or even two; for you know, as Mary would not be -expecting me, I did not know whether I should meet her at the usual -place that evening or not, and I couldn't go to her uncle's to see -her." - -"No. I know all about that." - -"Well, I was fortunate enough to meet her, walking with Ruth, and -naturally remained with her as long as I could. It was nine o'clock, -as near as I could judge by the rise of the moon, when we parted, and -I set out for the beach to meet Hollis. I was a little afraid of being -late, and took a short cut through the woods that I thought I knew -just as well as when we used to go huckleberrying in them when we were -boys. But there had been at least one change that I knew nothing of--a -new road." - -"Ah, yes. The new one across from Amagansett." - -"I suppose so. Whatever it is, I found it very suddenly. I was running -at the time, along a little path that I knew well, and all at once -went plunging down, head foremost, nine or ten feet into a cut. It's a -wonder--and, as I then thought, a mercy--that I didn't break my neck. -Lately I've had my doubts as to whether it wouldn't have been better -for me if I had." - -"Stow that, and pay out your yarn." - -"When I could collect my scattered senses, I found that I had cut two -ugly gashes in my head, upon sharp pointed roots or stubs of some -sort, and had sprained my left ankle so that it was exceedingly -painful for me to attempt to walk. While I sat there, thinking what I -should do, a little elderly gentleman, on horseback, came along upon -the new road into which I had fallen. I told him I was hurt, and he -very kindly assisted me, first to fix up my head--giving me his -handkerchief to use with my own for the purpose,--and then to get over -to the beach. Hollis was gone. The accident had delayed me far beyond -my time, and he, of course, supposed that I was not coming. When I got -my ankle in the cool sea-water it felt better, but still I could not -walk any distance on it. Just then a small smack came along, with an -old man and a boy in it--strangers to me--probably out on some -smuggling errand, and I offered the old man ten dollars to take me -over to New Haven, which he accepted gladly. The kind little gentleman -helped me into the boat and bade me good-night, saying that he had yet -to ride to Sag Harbor. We had very little wind, and it was daylight -when the old man landed me in New Haven. I had lost a good deal of -blood from the cuts on my head, and felt half sick and drowsy from it, -so that I slept nearly all the time I was in the boat. And that's all -I can tell you about that night." - -"Well, man alive, that's enough. All we've got to do is to find the -little gentleman and the old man to prove that you left the island -before eleven o'clock, for it was after that hour that Jacob Van Deust -was murdered. That will show clearly enough that whoever did kill him, -at all events, you didn't; and that's all we care about just at -present." - -"Ah! If I had the slightest idea of who they were. But I never thought -to ask their names, and indeed didn't take much notice of anything; -for, as I said, I was dizzy, and half-sick, and drowsy, with the loss -of blood; so that even if they had told me who they were, I don't know -that I should have been able to remember. If the old man was, as I -suppose, a smuggler, he would hardly be likely to willingly expose -himself to inconvenient questioning in court. Old men are cautious -about taking such chances, especially for people who are nothing to -them." - -"Can you give me a description of the little gentleman on horseback? -or tell me anything about him that might lead to his identification?" - -"No. Only I remember he said he was a stranger, and knew nobody in the -neighborhood except the Van Deusts. The way he came to mention that -was in talking of taking me somewhere." - -"Well, as he mentioned the Van Deusts, old Peter doubtless knows who -he is. Ah! Come to think about it, he said at the inquest that his -lawyer from New York had called on him that evening. Why, it's all -plain sailing now. I'll go to the old man right away and ask him, and -he'll tell me who his lawyer is, and I'll go and see him, and we'll -have you out in a jiffy." - -"Lem, I can't tell you how I appreciate your kindness and the trouble -you are taking in my behalf." - -"Don't try to. It's all right, I tell you. You'd do the same for me; I -know you would. And I rather think I begin to like the job, knowing -how it will spite that old cuss, Deacon Harkins." - -The remainder of the young men's chat at the cell door had no especial -significance or bearing upon the progress of the events of our story, -and may as well, therefore, be omitted. Suffice it to say, that when -they separated, Dorn felt infinitely more hopeful and cheerful than -he had before since his arrest, and Lem had far greater confidence in -the result of his novel undertaking of detective work. Of course Lem -carried away with him many loving messages to Mary, which were, in due -time, faithfully delivered through Ruth. - -It was too late that evening when the young man reached his home for -him to call upon Peter Van Deust, but he went up to the homestead -under the elms the next morning, at as early an hour as he dared hoped -to find anybody astir. He found the lonely old man, already seated -upon the long bench on the porch, in his accustomed place, with his -pipe in his mouth, and his gaze turned toward the sea; but the pipe -had gone out unnoticed, and the eyes saw nothing of the glory of the -dawn upon the ocean, for they were blinded by tears that unconsciously -filled them. Lem stood silently looking at him for some moments, -hesitating to speak, and hoping to be noticed; but the old man did not -seem to know that he was not alone, until Lem's voice, bidding him -"Good-morning," awoke him with a start from his reverie. Then the -start, with which he had been recalled, extended itself in a long fit -of nervous trembling, and it was with a weak and quavering voice that -he responded to his visitor's salutation. It was painful to see how -the unhappy man had broken down in the little time that had passed -since the death of his brother. It seemed to have added at least ten -years to his age. - -"I suppose, Mr. Van Deust, that you have heard of Dorn Hackett's -arrest," began the young man, after a failure to find any other way -than a direct plunge to arrive at his subject. - -"Yes, yes, I was told of it yesterday. Dorn Hackett? Dorn Hackett? -They say he used to live around here, but I don't remember him. I -suppose I used to know him, though. And he was raised in the -neighborhood? It seems strange that any one who was raised near him, -and knew him, could ever have had the heart to kill Jacob, don't it?" - -"But, Mr. Van Deust, maybe he didn't do it at all." - -"Somebody did it; somebody climbed into his window and murdered him -for the sake of a little money. Beat in his skull and cut short his -little remnant of life, just to get a few dollars. Oh! it was a cruel -thing to do, to kill that poor, harmless, gentle, good old man. I wish -we had never heard of that cursed fortune. Jacob would be alive -to-day, if we hadn't." - -His agitation while he spoke was extreme. He trembled like a leaf in -the wind; tears ran down his withered cheeks; his voice was broken by -sobs, and at length his emotion so obstructed his utterance that Lem -could not understand him as he went rambling on about his brother's -untimely end. After a little time, during which Lem silently waited -for him to regain a little calm, his mood seemed to change to one of -suspicion and fear for himself. - -"I suppose they'll come to kill me next," he exclaimed. "They'll think -there's more money; but there isn't--there isn't a dollar in the -house. I'll never have a dollar in the house again; and I'll get a -dog, a savage big dog, and I'll load the gun. Oh, I've got a gun, -though it hasn't been loaded in forty years." - -"Mr. Van Deust, a little elderly gentleman on horseback was in this -neighborhood the night your brother was murdered, and he said he knew -you. Who was he?" - -"Why, he's my lawyer, the man who brought us the intelligence of--But -what do you want to know for? What right have you to come here asking -me questions about my private affairs--about my lawyer? Do you think -he brings money here? No, he don't! he don't! there isn't a dollar in -the house. It's none of your business! Go away from here. I won't -answer any more of your questions. I was a fool to tell you so much! -Begone! begone! Betsy! Betsy! Help! help!" - -The old man's excitement seemed to have crazed him, temporarily, at -least. He continued raving, and Lem, finding it impossible to get in a -word of explanation, went away, no little disgusted with the rebuff he -had encountered at the very commencement of his task of hunting up an -_alibi_ for Dorn. Returning to Sag Harbor, he succeeded in finding the -man who had hired a horse to the little elderly gentleman on several -occasions, but could learn nothing from him beyond that fact. The -gentleman, according to the man's statement, always arrived by boat -from New York, got the horse, rode away, came back, paid, and -disappeared, probably by boat again. And that was all that the owner -of the horse knew about him. - -Then Lem went to New York, saying to himself that he "would ask every -little elderly lawyer in New York if he was the man," before he would -give up the pursuit. Little did the unsophisticated young fellow, who -had never before been away from home, imagine the magnitude of the job -he had cut out for himself. - - -XVII. - -LOVE THAT IS NOT ASHAMED. - -The closing of the inquest upon the body of Jacob Van Deust was a mere -formality. It was generally understood that there was within reach, if -not in actual possession, some evidence that would go far to connect -Dorn Hackett with the crime, and Squire Bodley even hinted as much in -a few remarks that he made to the jury; but it was deemed injudicious -to make it known at this juncture, and the jury, by the Squire's -direction, returned a verdict of "death by violence at the hands of -some person unknown." - -Mary Wallace, ignorant of the slow, serpentine, and deadly ways of the -thing men amuse themselves by calling "justice," when the finding of -the jury was told to her that night found it difficult to understand -why Dorn should be kept in jail, when there seemed to be no evidence -which the coroner's jury has found sufficient to connect him with the -crime. - -"Uncle," said she, timidly approaching grim Mr. Thatcher, as he sat on -the stone door-step, surrounded by a litter of fine shavings that he -had scraped from a whale-lance handle that he was finishing by the -last light of day, "why is it that, if the jury gave their verdict -that the murder was done by some unknown person, they don't let Mr. -Hackett out of jail?" - -"Did you ever see a cat playing with a live mouse that she had -caught?" - -"Yes, uncle." - -"How she lets it go a little way off, making it think it is going to -escape, and then pounces on it again? How she pretends she isn't -paying any attention to it, and has no notion of hurting it, and then -suddenly tears it to pieces?" - -"Yes, uncle," repeated Mary with a shudder. - -"Well, that's the way the law does with a man." - -Mary covered her face with her hands, and wept softly, while he went -on: - -"If they still hold on to Dorn Hackett, it is because they hope to get -proof enough against him to make him out guilty. I have heard lawyers -say that the law presumes every man to be innocent until he is proved -guilty; and when I was a younger man, I actually believed that; but as -I have got older, I have learned that practically, in the -administration of the law, when a crime is committed somebody has got -to suffer for it, for the sake of the moral effect on the community; -and it don't really make much difference who it is, so long as the -poor devil who is caught cannot prove himself innocent, which is -sometimes a mighty hard thing to do. He may not be guilty, but they -will try to make him out so. Better hang him than admit having made a -blunder in his arrest." - -"Oh, but uncle! you don't believe Dorn could be guilty, do you?" - -He looked at her pale anxious face with a feeling of deep pity,--for -his eyes were keen enough to see that it was of her lover she -spoke,--and replied with unwonted tenderness: - -"No, my poor child. No, I don't; and I wouldn't if I knew nothing more -about him than your trust in him." - -Two low sounds mingled softly, and were doubtless duly noted by the -recording angel on duty: a sigh from Uncle Thatcher, and a sniff of -disgust from his lean and rancorous wife in the dark room behind him. -He sighed to think, as he looked at Mary, and appreciated the worth of -her full and perfect love, what a treasure his profligate son had lost -in her, among all the good he had recklessly cast from him. Aunt -Thatcher sniffed because she did not dare to express openly her -contempt for his weakness in manifesting sympathy for the poor orphan -who had won her hearty and unextinguishable hatred by rejection of -Silas's advances. - -"And if Dorn cannot, as you say it is difficult to do, prove himself -innocent, what will they do with him?" - -"They'll hang him," exclaimed Aunt Thatcher, in a tone of malicious -triumph, unable longer to contain herself, and now appearing in the -door to enjoy Mary's horror. - -Uncle Thatcher turned upon her with a look of disgust and retorted: - -"Sallie Thatcher, if the devil himself ain't ashamed of you, he's -meaner than I take him for." - -"Oh, indeed! I'm so bad, am I? Thank you, Mr. Thatcher. Just because I -don't choose to take up for a murderer and a thief. I'm sure any body -might have known what he'd come to when he commenced by nearly killing -my poor boy." - -"Your 'poor boy' deserved all he got, and more, too; and I've good -reasons of my own for thinking that we'll both see the day we'll have -to regret that Dorn Hackett didn't finish him then." - -Aunt Thatcher's surprise and rage at hearing those words deprived her -for a moment of the power of articulation, and she could only give -vent to her feelings by a sort of wild beast howl of fury. But very -soon her ready tongue loosened itself again, and she poured forth a -torrent of reproach, vituperation, and malediction directed at random -against her husband, against Mary, against Dorn, against the world, -indeed, excepting only her "poor injured boy." - -When Uncle Thatcher had had enough of this, he straightened himself up -before her, and she, as if fearing the weight of his heavy hand, -retreated into the dark room. But he did not seem to have any -intention of personal violence. He simply pulled the door to, locked -it on the outside, and sat down again. A moment afterward the door was -tried and rattled from the inside. - -"Stay in there and keep quiet, if you know what's good for you," -growled Uncle Thatcher. - -The rattling ceased, and all was again quiet. - -"Uncle," said Mary, after a little pause, "I want to go and see Dorn." - -"In jail?" - -"Yes." - -"Well," he replied, a little doubtfully, "people might talk." - -"Let them, if they will. I don't care--or, at least, I don't care -enough to prevent my going to him when he is in trouble. What can they -say, but that we are lovers. Well, yes, we are, and it is no time for -me to seek to hide it when others look coldly and cruelly on him. He -loves me--I know he does; and I love him--with all my heart. And we -were going to be married very soon, uncle. I would have told you -before, but I was afraid. Now you are so kind to me that I'm not -afraid to tell you any more. And oh, Uncle, I _must_ go to him!" - -"Forgive me, little Mary--and may God forgive me for having made poor -Lottie's orphan child afraid to put confidence in me. You say you want -to go and see him. You shall. I'll hitch up early to-morrow morning -and take you over to Sag Harbor myself." - -Long before daylight the next morning Mary, who had not closed her -eyes during the seemingly interminable night, was up and had breakfast -prepared. Whether Aunt Thatcher was still under the influence of the -sullen fury that possessed her when the door was closed upon her the -night before, or had fresh fuel added to the fire of her temper by -overhearing the arrangement between her husband and niece, did not -appear. At all events she spoke no word of question or remark, and was -still abed when they took their departure. - -The sun was not risen above the sea when Uncle Thatcher's old carryall -creaked through the one long rambling street of the little village, -and entered upon the Sag Harbor road; but his upward glinting beams -already spread with gold and crimson the lower edges of the fleecy -clouds on the eastern horizon. Diamonds of dew still clung to the long -grass blades, and the points of the forest leaves and the morning -breeze, heavy with the salt smell of the sea, was fresh and bracing. -Robins flitted across the road with sharp notes, as of query why folks -should be abroad so early, and a belated rabbit, homeward bound to his -burrow in the brush, sat up-reared upon his haunches and seemed -paralyzed by astonishment until the horses were almost upon him, when -he bounded swiftly away. Higher and higher rose the sun, and as his -ardent rays licked up the dew, light clouds of yellow dust swirled and -spread behind the rapidly-moving wheels. Past orchards, where red -winter apples glowed in the sunshine like balls of blood amid the -foliage of the trees; past fields still golden with the stubble of the -early ripened grain; past fallow lands, where the blue-bird carolled -gayly on the hollow stump in which he and his mate had reared their -springtime brood; past leafy woods, where nuts were ripening, the -wheels rolled fast until they reached the quaint old town--their -journey's end--and halted beneath the old-time tavern's venerable -elms. - -Leaving the horses hitched, after having carefully watered them, Uncle -Thatcher accompanied his niece to the jail and asked permission for -her to see Dorn Hackett, which the jailor, having no orders to the -contrary, readily accorded. Mr. Thatcher did not enter. Though far -from being a nervous man, he felt as if the close clammy atmosphere of -that stone warehouse of sin and sorrow sent a chill to his heart. -Besides, he had no business with Dorn Hackett. With a great breath of -relief he turned his back upon the jail and wandered off down to the -wharf to look at the shipping--for Sag Harbor had shipping in those -days--to learn if there was any change in the oil and whalebone -markets, and perhaps to ascertain what was coming to his share of that -schooner in which he was part owner. - -Dorn was just bidding adieu to his lawyer, when Mary appeared in the -corridor. - -"By jove! Here's a pretty girl come to see some prisoner!" exclaimed -the lawyer at sight of her. - -Dorn paid no attention to the remark. There was but one pretty girl in -the world about whom he cared to think, and he did not expect her to -come there. What, then, was his surprise when, the lawyer having -stepped aside to give place to the visitor at his cell-door, he looked -out and beheld the beautiful face of his own true-love, Mary. With a -cry of surprise and joy he thrust his arms through between the bars, -catching her in an embrace, and their lips met in a long and ardent -kiss. The lawyer, who was a young man, and possessed of a very lively -appreciation of feminine beauty, lingered a few moments and then -quietly took his departure. - -"I hardly know whether I am most glad or ashamed to see you here, -darling," said Dorn, looking tenderly at his beloved. - -"Glad, I hope, dearest. Should you feel ashamed of being unfortunate? -It is only guilt of which one need be ashamed; and that, I well know, -my dear Dorn has not." - -"True. But it is very hard to wash the prison taint off, even from an -innocent man." - -"Do not think so, my love. Everybody will know yet how true and good -you are, and will be all the kinder to you for the mistake that has -given us so much pain and trouble." - -"Ah, my dear girl, it is your love and not your reason that tells me -so. Even people who have no other reason for hating the man who has -been the victim of such a mistake, will find sufficient the -consciousness that they have erred in supposing him guilty, and will -always profess to view him with suspicion, whether they feel it or -not. There is nothing that people generally abhor so much as a -confession of fallibility. But, no matter. I have your love and -confidence, dear Mary; I'm sure I have, or you would not be here; and -for all beyond that I'd ask small odds from the world if I were free -again." - -"And you will be, dearest, I am sure of it. It can never be possible -that a man should be punished by law for that of which he is not -guilty." - -"Ah, you think so? Then you have not read much about people who have -been convicted upon circumstantial evidence. I have read a whole book -about such cases, and I tell you it takes very little real proof to -hang a man sometimes." - -"Oh, Dorn! Don't talk so! You make me wild with horror and fear!" - -"Well, there,--there,--darling. I won't say any more about it. I -shouldn't have said so much, but somehow I have got into a bad way of -talking back since I have had to make the acquaintance of a lawyer." - -And kissing her tenderly, he sought to remove the terror that he had -unthinkingly given her, making light even of what he had just said, -and forcing himself to speak much more hopefully than he dared to -feel. - -"Lem, you know," he said, "has gone to New York to find a witness who -will certainly clear me if we can bring him into court." - -"Ruth told me that he had gone, and the object of his going, as far as -she knew, but he did not give her any particulars." - -"No? Then I'll tell you all about it." - -Thereupon he proceeded to inform her of all the untoward events that -had happened to him after his leaving her on the last night they were -together; his running through the woods and falling into the new road; -the aid given him by the little elderly gentleman; the missing of the -boat he had hoped to catch; the opportune arrival of the old man, -probably a smuggler, etc., etc., just as has already been narrated in -his interview with Lem, but much more slowly, as this time the story -was much broken by affectionate condolences and consequent digressions -to love-making. He told her also of Lem's unsuccessful attempt to -learn from Peter Van Deust who the little gentleman was. - -"What a pity it is," she said, "that you did not think to ask him his -name! Was there nothing about him that you can remember that might -help to his identification--no personal peculiarity of look, or dress, -or manner of speech?" - -He shook his head regretfully, saying, "I was not much in the humor to -notice peculiarities just then. But yes, come to think about it, there -was one little incident that rather amused me at the time, badly as I -felt; but I have not thought of it since until now. The little -gentleman had a very slow, cautious, and precise way of speaking. I -asked him what time it was, when we were down at the beach. He pulled -out his watch and replied very deliberately: 'Without desiring to be -understood as committing myself to an affirmation of the absolute -accuracy of my time-piece, I may say that, to the best of my -information and belief, it is now eleven minutes past ten o'clock.'" - -"Ah, I have seen him! I recognize his phrase, 'information and -belief'!" exclaimed Mary, "and know just how he said it. Ruth and I -met him the first time he came into the neighborhood, looking for the -Van Deusts, 'supposed to be brothers' as he then said. Ruth imitates -him, sometimes, and does it very well. When we come to match together -our remembrances of him, I am sure we will be able to give Lem some -information that will help him to find the man." - -"I certainly hope you may," answered Dorn, "for I can do nothing more. -I have got to resign myself to play the passive part of a football for -other people to bounce about, without being able to help myself, -whether I am going into the goal or the ditch. I have a lawyer, but he -seems to look rather blue over the prospect." - -"Then get another." - -"And have two of them looking blue? No, no. That would be more than I -could stand. One is enough. Sailors don't take very kindly to lawyers, -any way, you know." - -At the end of an hour--a very short time as it seemed to them, but the -limit set by the jailor, who now appeared, looking in at the corridor -door from time to time, with an air of expectation--Mary said she -would have to be going. - -"How did you come over?" asked Dorn. - -"Uncle Thatcher brought me." - -"The--mischief he did! And did he know you were coming to see me?" - -"Yes, he brought me for the purpose. Oh, Dorn, he has turned to be -ever so kind and good to me! I told him I loved you--" - -"God bless you, my darling!" exclaimed her lover, interrupting her -with a kiss. - -"--and that we were going to be married. And he did not say one word -against it. He even said that he did not believe you were guilty; and -when I told him I wanted to come and see you, he answered that he -would hitch up early this morning and bring me; and so he did." - -"Mary, if I've ever said a word against Uncle Thatcher I want to take -it all back. A man who does me as good a turn as he has this day, I -can never after hold any grudge against." - -Mary went home that night with a much lightened heart, and looked so -nearly happy that Aunt Thatcher would have liked to have bitten her, -for sheer vexation and spite. - - -XVIII. - -DORN'S TERRIBLE MISTAKE. - -Dorn Hackett's preliminary examination by a committing magistrate took -place before Squire Bodley, and was even a more important event, for -all the country around, than the inquest had been. As upon the former -occasion, the Squire's little office was crowded densely, and -apparently by exactly the same persons who filled it then,--with the -exception that the small space within the railing was somewhat more -jammed by the addition of five more persons than were there at the -time of the inquest; the prisoner, Dorn Hackett; his lawyer, Mr. Dunn; -the prosecuting attorney; the officer who brought Dorn from Sag Harbor -jail, and a reporter from New York. Peter Van Deust was seated where -he sat before, looking fearfully worn and old, as was remarked by all -who knew him and viewed with surprise the great change that had been -wrought in him within the few weeks since his brother's murder. He had -more command over himself now, however, than he showed on the first -day of the inquest; and instead of bowing his head and weeping, leaned -upon the end of the table and fixed his eyes with a hungrily keen gaze -upon the witnesses and the prisoner, as if he would fain have -penetrated their hearts to know the truth. - -Lem Pawlett was called, but did not respond, and in his absence -another witness formally testified as to the facts of the discovery of -the murder. Peter Van Deust repeated his former testimony. Then the -prosecuting attorney called the name of Mary Wallace. - -"Stop a moment," interposed the prisoner's counsel. "I desire to know -the object of the prosecution in calling this witness?" - -"It is neither customary nor requisite," responded the prosecutor, -"for the State to give such information. At the same time, I have no -objection, under the existing circumstances, to inform the counsel -that we intend to prove, by this witness, that the prisoner was in the -vicinity of where this murder was perpetrated upon the night of its -perpetration; keeping himself in the woods, evading the sight of -former friends and neighbors, though he had not re-visited them or -made himself known among them for three years or more, and that he -parted from the person we have just called as a witness a little while -before the hour at which the murder, as we have reason to believe, was -committed." - -"We are ready to admit," replied Mr. Dunn, "that the prisoner was in -the woods within a half, or possibly a quarter, of a mile of the Van -Deust homestead on the night of the murder; that for what seemed to -him good and sufficient reasons, yet very innocent ones--which the -younger portion of my hearers will possibly imagine and appreciate -more readily than the old ones--he _did_ seek to avoid meeting any -inquisitive and gossiping friends; and that he parted from the person -whom the State has just called before the hour at which the murder was -committed. I believe those admissions cover all the State desires to -show by this witness, and consequently, I do not see that there can be -any necessity, at this time, for placing her on the stand." - -"None at all. We are satisfied with the admissions," assented the -prosecutor cheerfully, not at all dissatisfied with expediting -business in the close and heated quarters in which he found himself. - -A look of relief, almost of pleasure, passed over Dorn's face. He had -his Mary spared the embarrassment and unhappiness of appearing as a -witness against him, for that time at least. - -A man named Schooly, from New Haven, testified that he saw Dorn in his -boarding-house in that city two days after the date of the murder, and -he was then suffering from some cuts, bruises, and sprains which he -claimed to have received while running through the Long Island woods -at night. - -Detective Turner bore witness to the finding in the prisoner's room in -New Haven of a pair of pantaloons and a jacket stained with blood, and -a shirt which, though it had been washed, still bore blood stains. He -further narrated that the prisoner had stoutly resisted arrest; had, -indeed, fought hard to effect an escape; and upon being overcome and -searched, had been found to have, in a belt about his body, some three -hundred dollars in gold coins--which the witness here produced for -inspection by the magistrate, and possible identification by Mr. Peter -Van Deust. - -The old man looked them over a little, and then pushed them away with -a weary sigh, saying simply: - -"Jacob had gold in his bag; I don't know how much. Minted coins are -all alike." - -The case looked very weak for the prosecution. There was really -nothing beyond mere suspicion to connect the prisoner with the crime. -The prosecuting attorney, with a discontented look, whispered to the -detective,--who was evidently uneasy,--and shuffled over again the -pages of the testimony taken at the inquest, with a faint hope that he -might find there some previously overlooked clue to be of service now. -But there was nothing. - -The prisoner's counsel leaned back to his client and whispered -exultantly: "I defy any jury, or magistrate, to find on that evidence -anything worse than the Scotch verdict of 'Not Proven.'" - -"'Not Proven'?" exclaimed Dorn, "I don't want such a verdict as that. -Cast a cloud of suspicion and doubt over my whole life! No, I'd rather -be hanged at once and done with it. What I demand is a verdict of 'Not -Guilty.'" - -"Better be satisfied with what you can get. 'Not Proven' would be just -as good." - -"Not for me. I want to tell the Squire, and everybody, just what -happened to me that night. I'm sure that they will see I am telling -the truth, and I'll clear away this suspicion." - -An older and shrewder practitioner than Mr. Dunn would have positively -refused to permit his client to imperil, by a word, the present -promising condition of his case; but he could not help entering into -the feeling of the brave, handsome and earnest young fellow who -pleaded so hard to be permitted to defend himself with the truth, and -yielded. - -"If your honor pleases," he said simply, "my client requests to be -permitted to make his own statement of the events of the night in -question affecting him, or in which he had a part." - -"I shall be happy to hear him," answered Squire Bodley, who was -conscious of feeling prepossessed in Dorn's favor, and desirous of -seeing him clear himself from suspicion. - -The prosecuting attorney looked up with a new light of hope in his -eyes. Well he knew how even innocent persons sometimes tangle -themselves up in trying to tell a straight story, and how their -unpractised and unguarded utterances can be garbled, warped, and -misconstrued. But Dorn's manner gave him very little encouragement. In -a plain, straight-forward way, that went home with the force of truth -to the hearts of all who heard him, the young man told his brief tale -of mal-adventure on that luckless night. - -Why he had come to Long Island that evening and tried to avoid being -seen by anybody but the person he came to see was, he said, his own -business--had no bearing on this affair--and he did not propose to -make any statement about that. He did not need to. Already it had in -some way become matter of public knowledge all over that end of Long -Island that he had come to see Mary Wallace, his sweetheart, who stuck -to him so well in his trouble that she had been to see him in jail. -And nobody thought the worse of him for that, certainly. - -Having disposed of that matter so simply, he retold his story, from -the time of his starting to run through the woods to catch Mr. -Hollis's sloop up to his final arrival at his home in New Haven the -next morning. "Deeply I regret," he said, in concluding the narrative, -"that I do not know the two persons who assisted me; the gentleman on -horseback and the old man in the smack; and beyond measure grateful I -would be to them if they, learning of the trouble into which I have -innocently fallen, would come forward to corroborate my statement of -what happened that night." - -"And you know of absolutely nothing," said the prosecuting attorney, -after a little whispering with old Peter Van Deust, who was seen to -violently shake his head, "which might lead to the discovery of the -real existence of either of those persons who, according to your very -romantic story, came so opportunely to give you their aid?" He spoke -with an affectation of incredulity, which in his heart he was very far -from feeling. - -"Nothing whatever, sir," replied Dorn. "The only trace I have left of -either of them, except the memory of their kindness to me, is the -handkerchief which the little gentleman bound around my head. It has -been washed, with the rest of my clothing over which the blood flowed -from my scalp wounds, and was sent to me yesterday in the valise which -was forwarded to me from my boarding house in New Haven. I have it -with me. Here it is." - -So saying he drew from one of his pockets a large white linen -handkerchief, clean and neatly folded, which he handed to the -prosecuting attorney. That official took it in an absent-minded way, -looked at it negligently, and--his mind busy with some trap he was -minded to set for the young man--then tossed the light fabric -carelessly from him upon the table. It fell before old Peter Van -Deust, who snatched it up and, after turning it from one corner to -another for close examination, suddenly startled everybody by a loud -cry and the exclamations: - -"It was his! It was Jacob's! I can swear to it!" - -The old man was immediately recalled to the witness-stand, and -testified with much demonstration of excitement: - -"I felt that it was his as soon as I saw it, and when I examined it I -was sure of it. Jacob had some harmless, womanish ways about him. He -could sew, and knit, and embroider a little. He marked all his -clothing himself--every article of it I believe--in a very modest way; -hardly discernible at a casual glance, but very plain when you come -to look for it, as you can see on that handkerchief. Look in that -corner and you'll see his initials '_J. V. D._' worked with a single -white thread. You can hardly see it without you hold it so that the -light will show the lines of the letters lying across the threads of -the fabric. There! That way it shows plainly." - -It was as he said. The letters "_J. V. D._" were unquestionably there. - -Dorn sank back in his seat aghast and terrified by this astonishing -discovery. Who now believed his story of the little gentleman and the -old man in the smack? Nobody. Everybody saw that it was an artfully -concocted lie, and was indignant with him for duping them, by his -apparently ingenuous and honest manner, into momentarily believing -him. An audible murmur about the "finger of Providence" ran through -the throng, and Mr. Dunn groaned, half to himself and half to his -client: - -"Oh, I was afraid you'd play the devil somehow! Why couldn't you have -let well enough alone?" - -Squire Bodley, having carefully examined for himself the marked -handkerchief, said solemnly to the accused: - -"Young man, you have, I fear, placed the noose about your own neck. -You will stand committed to await the action of the Grand Jury. -Without bail, of course," he added, seeing that the prisoner's counsel -had risen and seemed about to say something. - -Whatever it was that Mr. Dunn had an idea of saying or doing when he -got upon his feet, he changed his mind and sat down again. The fact -was that he was as completely stunned as was his client by the -revelation that had been made. Dorn had sworn to him that he was -innocent, and he had believed it. But now--? He, even, began to have -his doubts. - -At this moment a sharp-featured woman, wearing a sun-bonnet and with a -tangled lock of sandy hair hanging down her back, having literally -fought her way to the railing, leaned over it and asked the magistrate -in an acidulous whisper: - -"Squire, can't I swear to something against him?" - -"It would be useless, now, Mrs. Thatcher," replied the Squire, "as he -has already been committed. But your evidence might be desired by the -Grand Jury. What can you testify to?" - -"I can swear," answered the woman, with eager spite, "that he's a -hardened villain, and that I believe he killed Jake Van Deust, and -that he's been keeping that fool niece of mine out in the woods to the -latest and most indecent hours of the night." - -"Madam," said the Squire, with mingled dignity and contempt, "you will -excuse my saying that you are simply disgusting! Go away!" - - -XIX. - -THE MAD AVENGER. - -Nobody could devote himself with greater assiduity to an almost -hopeless task than Lem Pawlett did to his pursuit of the unknown -lawyer. The weather was exceedingly hot in the city, and he, -accustomed to breathing the pure fresh breezes of the sea-shore, felt -it terribly oppressive. The pavements were very hard to his feet, used -to the soft earth and sand of the country, and he was actually lame -most of the time. The interminable streets and the multitude of people -confused him and gave him a horrible sense of isolation among them -all. Then he very much missed little Ruth's affectionate despotism, -and her practical good sense and encouragement, for he had so many -disappointments and discouragements to encounter that he was fairly -heart-sick almost all the while. Still the good fellow did not give up -his chase. He had come to town for a purpose, he said to himself, and -he would succeed in it or die trying. Day after day he haunted the -courts and the streets where there were most lawyer's offices, and it -was not long before he became actually a terror to all the little -elderly gentlemen who practised law in New York--and there were a -great many of them, as there are even yet. Seeing one who, it seemed -to him, might come within the somewhat wide specifications he alone -had for his guidance, of being small and past middle age, it was his -habit to buttonhole the suspected person and put to him directly the -question: - -"Do you know the Van Deusts of Easthampton?" - -They all said "No." A very few of them, at first, had curiosity enough -to add "why?" But upon his commencing his story which from his manner -promised to be long, they would always exclaim, "Ah! One -moment--excuse me. I see a man--" and would dart away. Generally they -did not even ask "why?" but darted away about their own business all -the same. - -His frequent repetitions of the same question were overheard by other -members of the bar than those to whom it was addressed, and it was -observed that the interrogation was always directed to little, elderly -gentlemen. So very speedily it became a stock-joke among the -profession for waggish counsellors to ask of his selected class of -victims, at the most inopportune times and unexpected places, "_Do_ -you know the Van Deusts of Easthampton?" until they were almost -maddened by the iteration. - -One jocose attorney christened Lem "The Mad Avenger," and by that -title he was soon generally known. The poor fellow was much puzzled to -account for the hilarity that his appearance in court sometimes seemed -to occasion; for the general interest that appeared to be awakened -among the lawyers when he approached one of whom he thought he should -ask his question; and for the angry haste with which the person so -approached would reply, oft-times before he said more than "Do you--" -with an emphatic "No. Never heard of them in my life." Sometimes he -asked the same person, twice or thrice even, on different days, for he -could not be expected to remember them all. - -There are always haunting the courts a few poor, harmless mad -people,--wrecks whose hearts and minds have been at some time crushed -by the Juggernaut of the law. The mercy of forgetfulness has wiped -away the memory of ruinous defeat and made place for ever-springing -hope in their breasts. They imagine always that their cases are -"coming on very soon--to-morrow, perhaps;" for the bitter, -heart-sickening lesson of legal procrastination is deepest graven, and -survives all else in their blighted brains. Lem got to be regarded as -one of those unfortunate beings. And then, even if he had got an -opportunity to tell his story to anybody, the chances are that it -would have been taken for a fiction of his imagination. Still he -plodded on indefatigably, with his eyes always open for the wanted -witness, and his one question ever trembling on his lips. His manner -of operation was certainly not the best,--not the one that a skilful -detective would have adopted,--but it was the best he knew; and sooner -or later Providence is pretty certain to help those who endeavor for -themselves as earnestly and well as they know how. - -Once only he sought to make a divergence from the path upon which he -had set out. He went to the police, thinking to ask their aid. The -superintendent received him brusquely, demanding as soon as he put -his foot over the threshold of the office:-- - -"Well, my man, what do you want?" - -"I have come, sir, to ask some help here in finding out about the -murder of Jacob Van Deust, of Easthampton, Long Island." - -The superintendent referred to a book at his elbow, and replied -curtly, "Man on that case now." - -"Yes, I know there is," answered Lem, "but it seems to me that he's on -the wrong tack, and--" - -The superintendent did not trouble himself to hide his contempt for -the criticism of an unprofessional, and a countryman at that, upon one -of his force of detectives, and interrupted with the abrupt retort: - -"Very probably. But I guess you are not likely to teach him his -business. Martin!"--turning to his messenger--"Tell the captain I'll -see him now." - -Lem accepted this discourteous dismissal, and found his way into the -street without anybody seeming to have noticed that he said, -"Good-day, sir." - -Singularly enough as it might appear, in view of the notoriety that -Lem's question had obtained among the lawyers, but for a very -excellent reason, nevertheless, the one man of all of them who could -have responded "yes;" the one man of whom he was in search, had not in -all this time heard that anybody was hunting an acquaintance of the -Van Deusts and, though he was the only person in New York who had any -direct business interest in the Van Deusts, knew anything about them -or would have been likely to know of any important event happening to -them, he had not even heard that Jacob Van Deust had been murdered. -That one man was Mr. Pelatiah Holden. Of late years he had practiced -very little in the courts. He had amassed a considerable fortune--one -so regarded in those days, at least--by the exercise of his -profession; and as he grew older and attained a high and deserved -reputation by his ability, gradually drifted into the comparatively -quiet, easy, and lucrative life of an office lawyer--one who gives -counsel to other lawyers in difficult and important cases. His deep -learning in the law, his wide knowledge of rulings and precedents, and -his great caution in forming and framing opinions, gave weight and -value to his advice, and put him in the position of a general who -plans battles for others to fight, but seldom finds himself directly -engaged in combat. - -It was his custom to go to his office at an early hour every week-day -morning; lock himself in a little inner room, the walls of which were -covered with a magnificent legal library; receive there only persons -who came on such important business as could not be attended to by Mr. -Anderson, his old and able confidential clerk; have a lunch handed -into him at noon precisely; and, at four o'clock to leave for his home -somewhere in the upper part of the city. During his seclusion in that -inner room, he was constantly busy, poring over law books, reading -points submitted by counsel, and writing opinions. When a person was -admitted to see him, the very atmosphere by which he was surrounded, -was a warning against waste of time in idle conversation. Not one, of -even his most intimate friends, would have dreamed of taking up his -time with mention of a new lunatic haunting the courts. - -So it was that Lem met him and passed him by in the street, -unconsciously, over and over again, not even knowing that he was a -lawyer. The young man was so uneasy, restless and unhappy, as the days -flew rapidly by, and the time for Dorn's trial was drawing nearer--for -the grand jury had found an indictment against him within a week -after his commitment by the magistrate, and he was to be tried for his -life at the next session of the court--that he could no more sleep at -night than rest in the daytime, and was almost constantly strolling -aimlessly about the streets, growing thinner, more careworn and -despondent daily. - -One evening, as he was passing the front of the old Chatham Street -theatre, he was surprised to hear himself called by name, and turning, -found himself face to face with Silas Thatcher. He had not seen the -scapegrace for more than three years, had never been at all intimate -with him, and hardly recognized him now, so greatly had his appearance -changed. Silas was dressed in black cloth, wore a silk hat, flashing -breast-pin and shining boots, had a moustache and goatee, and was -smoking a long cigar. In all respects he was a good sample of the lot -of a dozen or more fellows lounging near the theatre door, every one -of whom was known to the police as a gambler or a thief, and most of -them as deserving official notice in both characters. The vulgar -affectation with which he sought to impress his rustic acquaintance, -did not lacquer over the coarse blackguardism of his customary -manners, and Lem, without well knowing why, felt an instinctive -dislike for, and distrust of, him. Still, he stood and talked a little -while, telling the last news he had from home; that Uncle and Aunt -Thatcher and Mary were all well; that Eben Stebbins had gone -a-whaling; that the schooner "Pretty Polly," with Captain Marsh and -three men, had been lost in a gale; that Dorn Hackett had come back -and been arrested on suspicion of having murdered Jacob Van Deust-- - -"Murdered old Jake Van Deust! You don't mean to say that you folks -down in that dead-alive little village, have had the sensation of a -real murder!" - -"Ah! yes. A terrible sensation, too, the killing and robbery of a -poor, weak, old man, and the arrest of an innocent person for the -crime." - -"Let's go and get a drink, while you tell me all about it." - -"No, thank you. I don't drink. But I can tell you all about it here, -all the same." And he told the whole story, at least, as far as it was -known to the public, instinctively suppressing, however, all mention -of the evidence he hoped to find in the city. - -"That handkerchief business will be likely to hang him, won't it?" -asked Silas. - -"It seems very serious to his friends." - -"Mighty queer that he should have had the thing!--if he isn't guilty." - -"And yet I am as sure as that I am alive this moment, that if they -hang Dorn Hackett for that murder, they will hang an innocent man for -the crime of another." - -"Come, let's go and take a drink, just one. Take something light if -you like. And then we'll go around and see some life. Come on. I want -a drink." - -"No, you'll have to excuse me, Silas. I never drink, and I feel pretty -tired; and, I think I'll go to bed." - -"Go to bed! now! Why, a man isn't a hen. Night is the only time to see -life in New York. I've only been up a couple of hours or so. Come -along, and I'll show you the elephant." - -"No, thank you. I have no desire to see him. I'd rather go to bed. -Good-night." - -"Well, good-night,--if you will go." - -Silas, when left alone, hastily entered the bar-room attached to the -theatre, and called for a glass of brandy. While he was pouring out -the fiery beverage, an acquaintance entered, and, looking at him with -surprise, exclaimed:-- - -"Why, Sile! What the deuce is the matter with you? You look as if -you'd seen a ghost!" - -"Maybe I have. What'll you take?" answered Silas, dryly. - -"Brandy," replied his friend, and the young man's looks were no more -commented on. - - -XX. - -RUTH'S LETTER. - -When Lem reached the humble hotel on Pearl Street, at which he put up, -he found a letter addressed to him in the clerk's rack. It had arrived -while he was out that afternoon. No need for him to open it to know -who it came from. One glance at the superscription was enough for him -to see that Ruth's chubby little hand had guided the pen. Retiring to -his little room he opened the missive, trimmed his solitary candle, -and with a countenance of happy anticipation sat himself down to read. - -"DEAR OLD LEM," she wrote, "I'm beginning to think that you are away -an awful long time, and I'm getting real anxious about you sometimes. -Perhaps you have found some handsome city lady that you think you like -ever so much better than me, and have no idea of coming back to the -village. If so, just mention the fact while I have some chance left. I -hear that Deacon Harkins is looking out for a fourth wife, and who -knows--But there, I won't plague you any more, you big, good-hearted, -stupid dear. I know you won't fall in love with anybody but your -little Ruth, any more than she will with somebody else than her big -Lem, and I can answer for her. But there! I haven't much time to write -about you and I, for I've got something real serious to tell you, -something that may be a great deal of help to you in what you are -trying to do; that is, supposing you are trying what you started for, -and not just to capture the handsome city lady. Mary has been to see -Dorn in jail, and had a talk with him about the little elderly -gentleman, and he has remembered something more than he told you that -makes us both sure we have seen him, and would know him again; and -it's a wonder to me that he didn't think of telling you, for he's a -man you couldn't mistake. But then you men are all so flighty and slow -to think about things, and you never get them right until a woman -takes them in hand." - -Lem scratched his head, looked perplexed, reread the long sentence, -and then muttered to himself: - -"Ah, yes! I see. Dorn has remembered something more--and it's the -little elderly gentleman she and Mary have seen--and it's a wonder -Dorn didn't think of telling me that something he has remembered--and -the little elderly gentleman is a man I couldn't mistake. Yes, it's -all clear now." And he read on: - -"I remember him just as well as if I saw him only yesterday, and I'll -tell you exactly how he looked. He wore a wig, very dark brown, nearly -black, and very neatly brushed; and he had a shirt bosom with a -frill--like those queer old heroes of the revolution in our pictorial -book of American History; and his tall silk hat had a very wide crape -around it; and he had a funny little breast-pin in his frill that -looked like a square of glass with gray hair under it, and little -pearls around it, like grandmother's brooch. He had on a stock, a -very wide, stiff stock, that kept his head up very straight; and when -he bowed he moved as if he was only hinged in the middle. He spoke -very deliberately, and seemed to be afraid somebody would snap him up -right off if he didn't say exactly the right word, and he appeared to -be too cautious ever to say anything positive. He spoke of the Van -Deusts as 'supposed to be brothers,' and when Dorn asked him what time -it was, he looked at his watch and replied that, 'according to his -information and belief it was eleven minutes past ten.'" - -"Now I'm sure, Lem, that such peculiarities as his must mark him out; -so that when you know them you will have little difficulty in finding -him. Do your best, darling, and make haste, for the time is getting -terribly short for poor Dorn and dear Mary,--and yet it seems awful -long to - - "Your own little - - "RUTH." - -"This is serious. This merits consideration and dissection," said Lem -to himself, spreading the letter on the table before him, and squaring -himself to go at it as a study. It was nearly morning when he felt -that he had fully mastered all its contents, and threw himself on his -bed for a short and troubled sleep. - -But the earliest lawyers on the street--those who snatch a subsistence -from the dregs and scum of humanity thrown up daily by the currents of -misfortune and vice, upon the strands of the police courts--saw "the -Mad Avenger" already prowling about the vicinity of their offices long -before the hour at which the civil and principal criminal courts would -be opened for business. When the judicial mills commenced their -grinding, he was within sound of their clatter, and from one to -another he wandered, anxiously and wearily, as was his custom. When -the day's grist was completed, and the grinders hurried away to their -respective offices to prepare more grain for the morrow's grinding, he -mechanically followed them. - -It was getting late in the afternoon; he had not yet seen anybody -approximating to the picture he had in his mind's eye--the portrait -drawn by Ruth--and he was just arrived at that period of the day when -he always felt most sick with disappointment, and most sorely tempted -to give up the seemingly useless pursuit and go home. He stopped -before the little hand-cart of a street fruit vender, which was drawn -up to the curbstone, to buy an apple. While he made the purchase he -heard the voice of a man, who halted just behind him, saying quickly: - -"Ah! I was just coming up to see you. Are you in Fordyce vs. Baxter?" - -"Not having been advised by my clerk," said a precise and deliberate -speaker in reply, "that any papers in an action so entitled had been -deposited in his hands, and having no other knowledge of such action -than your present mention of its title, I believe that I am justified -in saying, sir, that to the best of my information and belief--" - -"Aha!" shouted Lem, wheeling around and seeing before him the living -original of Ruth's very exact sketch--"You're the man I'm looking -for!" - -"What the--the--the--mischief do you mean, sir," exclaimed the little -gentleman, warding off the hand that Lem stretched out to clutch his -collar. - -"It's the Mad Avenger," said, laughingly, the gentleman interested in -Fordyce vs. Baxter. "He will ask you, in a moment, if you know the Van -Deusts of Easthampton." - -"Of course I will," retorted Lem, growing hot and angry, "I don't know -why you call me the Mad Avenger--my name is Lemuel Pawlett, and I do -want to know, for very serious reasons, if this gentleman is -acquainted with the Van Deusts of Easthampton." - -"And I reply that I am," answered Mr. Holden, sufficiently perturbed -by the immediate excitement to forget his customary caution and make a -positive statement without qualification. - -"Oh! The deuce you are! Then there really are Van Deusts of -Easthampton!" exclaimed the other lawyer, with genuine surprise and -beginning to feel an interest in the affair. - -"Thank God! I have found you, sir. Thank God!" ejaculated Lem, -fervently, "for I believe you can be the means of saving an innocent -man's life." - -"Bless my soul!" gasped Mr. Holden--"But, here! This is no place for a -consultation. Come up to my office;" and he began elbowing his way -through the crowd that had already gathered. - -"But _are_ you in Fordyce vs. Baxter?" called after him the gentleman -whose lucky inquiry had brought to Lem the good fortune of this -meeting. - -"No," Mr. Holden answered, still moving off. - -"Then remember that you are retained for the plaintiff!" - -"See Anderson about it," shouted back the little gentleman, -disappearing with Lem in the big doorway of the stairs leading to his -office. - -It was with profound astonishment and genuine sorrow that the worthy -lawyer heard of the murder of Jacob Van Deust, for he had achieved -quite a liking for the younger of the two brothers. - -"But," said he, "I am tempted to say that it seems to me somewhat -strange that I have not been notified of the fact by the surviving -brother." - -"Old Peter is greatly broken down, sir; more shaken by the loss of his -brother than any one would have believed he could be, seeing how hard -and selfish he always used to seem." - -"Ah!" replied Mr. Holden, meditatively, his eyes resting upon the -mourning band of his hat on the table before him. "The rupture of -life-long ties gives deep pain. We are such creatures of habit, if -nothing more. We miss a face to which we have long been accustomed; a -voice that we had thought was only in our ears, when it was in our -hearts all the while. When the grave covers that face and there is -only silence, or the sadness of its own echoes in the lonely heart, -the world is no longer the same--But, there!--Don't talk about it any -more. You have not yet told me how I can, as you said in the street, -save the life of an innocent man." - -"The man arrested for that murder, perpetrated at or about midnight, -as is supposed, is the one you found in the road suffering from the -consequences of a severe fall, and whom you helped to leave Long -Island, in a disabled condition, nearly two hours earlier that night -than Mr. Van Deust was killed." - -"Ah! If I did not know of what the police are capable, I should be -surprised at it." - -"You know he is innocent, sir; and I know it, and Ruth, and Mary, his -sweetheart; we all know it. But they would hang him if we couldn't -prove it." - -The reaction from his long sustained anxiety, the present excitement -and his joyful emotion over finding the man upon whom he looked as -Dorn's saviour, so affected the poor fellow that he cried like a -schoolboy. - -"Yes," assented Mr. Holden reflectively, "that is practically what the -law seems to require sometimes--and it is hardly ever an easy thing to -do. But, come, my good fellow! Leave that crying for the girls you -mentioned and give me all the facts you possess bearing on the case." - -"I--I--can't help it, sir. Don't mind me--I'll be over it directly. I -know it's weak, and foolish,--but I've been worked up so, fearing I -wouldn't find you in time." - -In a few minutes Lem recovered his self-control, and then it took but -a very short time for the skilful lawyer to elicit every detail of the -progress of Dorn's case. Lem was surprised at seeing him smile when -the discovery of the handkerchief, the strongest point against the -accused, as it was deemed, was mentioned, but did not dare to ask him -why he did so. When the narration was concluded, Mr. Holden asked: - -"When is his trial to come off?" - -"On Tuesday next, sir." - -"Tuesday next. H'm. Prosecution will take up first day; defence not be -reached before Wednesday--and this is Thursday--leaves me four days to -get through what I have on hand. Oh, Mr. Anderson!" - -The door opened noiselessly in response to his loud summons, and the -old clerk poked in his head. - -"If Mr. Sarcher comes to retain me in Fordyce _vs._ Baxter, you will -decline to take his papers unless he can wait for an opinion until -after next week." - -"Yes, sir." - -"That is all, Mr. Anderson." - -"Thank you." - -The clerk bowed and retired his head, again carefully closing the -door. Mr. Holden turned to Lem and said, cheerily: - -"With Heaven's help, young man, we will save your friend's neck." - -"Oh! I'm quite satisfied you will, sir, I'm easy in my mind about it, -now that I've seen you. Did you know there's a schooner goes to Sag -Harbor, Tuesdays and Fridays, starting at five o'clock in the evening -from Coenties Slip?" - -"Yes, I know. I have taken it before, and will again, God willing, -next Tuesday evening. Go home, see your friend and his sweetheart, and -cheer them up, especially the girl. Tell them I'll--well, no; on -second thoughts, you'd better say nothing about my evidence that you -can avoid;--he would tell his counsel who must be, metaphorically -speaking, an ass, or he would have kept his client quiet at the -preliminary examination--and it might get to the other side. That -might do harm. It is always unwise to let your antagonist in law know -your weapons." - - -XXI. - -THAT SWEET BOON--TRIAL BY JURY. - -On the day that Dorn Hackett's trial commenced, the little court-house -of Sag Harbor was by no means large enough to contain half the people -who came from all the country around to attend it. From the -neighborhood in which the murder had been committed, they seemed to -have come in a body. Old acquaintances, neighbors, friends of the -prisoner--who had known him since he was a child; who had heard as -fresh the news that his father, William Hackett, had been swept -overboard from a whaler's yard-arm and lost in a gale, and who had -seen the drowned man's little orphan boy grow up to young manhood -among them--were present by dozens; yet among them all one could -hardly hear a few faint expressions of sympathy for him, or hope for -the demonstration of his innocence. There is nothing for which -ignorant people, particularly rustics, are so ready as the acceptance -of the guilt of a person accused legally of a crime; nothing they -resent so deeply as what they believe to be an attempt to deceive them -by a false assumption of innocence. The discovery of the marked -handkerchief in his possession, had been, to their narrow minds, -conclusive evidence of Dorn's guilt and each man of them felt it an -insult to what he deemed his intelligence, that Dorn had, just before -that discovery, betrayed him into a temporary fear that they might not -have the right man after all. - -Deacon Harkins, who, by the way, had tried to have Dorn, as a child, -indentured to him by the county overseer of the poor, as soon as he -heard of the drowning of the lad's father--a slavery from which the -boy was saved by the kindness of a good old man, long since dead--was -prominent in the crowd about the court-house, quoting texts and -vaunting the foresight with which he had "always looked forward to -seeing that young man come to a bad end." Aunt Thatcher, was of -course, present, and--as might have been expected--vindictively -exultant. Mary Wallace, having been summoned as a witness by the -prosecution, was compelled to attend, and made her way through the -throng to the county clerk's office, beneath the court-room, where she -was given a seat to wait until she should be called. Happily there was -still humanity enough among the rough people who were eagerly awaiting -the conviction of her lover, to prompt some little sympathetic feeling -for her; and, as she went by, they at least refrained from saying, in -her hearing, that they hoped Dorn Hackett would be hanged. Aunt -Thatcher was incapable of such delicacy and reserve. She had been -saying that daily, and almost hourly, since she had heard of his -arrest, and she continued to say it now, loudly too, until the -disgusted county clerk ordered her to keep quiet or get out of his -office, to which she had forced her way with Mary. - -There was little difficulty in getting a jury, for in those days fewer -newspapers were read than now are; fewer people sought to escape jury -duty by deliberately "forming and expressing opinions relative to the -guilt or innocence of the accused" in advance of the trial; and, above -all, lawyers had not yet developed, as they since have, the science of -delay at that point of the proceedings. Twelve "good men and true" -were selected--perhaps a sample dozen as juries go. One of them heard -with great difficulty; two kept yawning and dropping asleep from time -to time; a fourth belied his looks, if he was not at least -semi-idiotic; three were manifestly weak, simple-minded persons, -devoid of moral force and easy to be influenced by a stronger will, -and the remaining five were evidently men who doubtless meant to do -right, but were obstinate to the verge of pig-headedness, and showed, -by the countenances with which they regarded the prisoner, that they -were already inimical to him. And before this "jury of his peers" Dorn -Hackett stood, to be tried for his life. - -It would be time and space lost to recite the thrilling opening speech -of the prosecuting attorney; to tell how vividly he depicted the -horrors of the crime that had been perpetrated; how artfully he -seemed, by word and gesture, to connect the prisoner with the crime at -every stage of its progress; how scornfully he dwelt upon "the absurd -story by which the murderer had sought to explain away the damning -proofs against him, and which his counsel might have the audacity to -ask this intelligent jury to believe," etc. It was more like a closing -than an opening speech, and when it was ended, five of the jury looked -as if they were satisfied that the proper thing to do would be to take -the prisoner right out and hang him to one of the big elms beside the -court-house. - -Mr. Dunn's heart sank within him. What had he to make headway with -against that speech, before those five men and with that fatal marked -handkerchief ever fluttering before his eyes? - -The hearing of the witnesses for the State continued slowly all the -first day. All that had been sworn to before the committing -magistrate, was repeated now, and there was really very little more, -but that little was adroitly handled, and the temper of the jury was -to make the most of it. Peter Van Deust produced a great effect when -he gave his testimony as to the identification of the handkerchief -belonging to his murdered brother, which was, in the language of the -prosecutor, cunningly woven into questions "voluntarily, confidently, -and impudently exhibited by the prisoner to sustain his preposterous -story." Poor Mary Wallace had to go on the stand and testify that Dorn -had been with her, walking and conversing, in the edge of the woods, -less than half a mile from the Van Deust homestead, on the night of -the murder, and that he left her about nine o'clock. Witnesses were -brought from New Haven to testify to Dorn's arrival in that city, the -morning after the murder, with his clothes bloody, head cut, and one -ankle sprained; and to his admissions that he had received those -injuries while running through the woods on Long Island the night -before. - -"Not," exclaimed the prosecuting-attorney, "as he would have it -believed, long before the murder, but when he was fleeing red-handed, -conscious that the brand of Cain was on his brow!" - -The prisoner's counsel protested against this sort of interpolation of -comments, as irregular and unfair, and the court sustained him in that -view, but the majority of the jury looked as if they would have -thanked the prosecutor for expressing their sentiments so forcibly. - -Then other witnesses were called to prove, as experts, that a man -would have time after the hour at which it was believed the murder was -committed,--say, at midnight--to run to the Napeague Inlet, take a -sail-boat and reach New Haven early the next morning. One, indeed, -testified that he had tried and accomplished the feat. - -And that was all the State had to offer. Still, the popular feeling -was that it was sufficient. - -"It would hardly amount to much before a city jury," said the -prosecuting-attorney, in confidential chat with some other lawyers at -the close of the day's proceedings, "but I guess it will be enough -down here." - -The jury, at the adjournment of the court for the day, gravely heard -the injunction of the judge, that they "should refrain from talking to -anybody about the case," and then went out and discussed the evidence -with their friends and neighbors. - -"The handkerchief must hang him; that's clear," said everybody. "How -could he have had it if he hadn't killed the old man?" - -Dorn was remanded back to the jail, where Mary had a little interview -with him, during which she wept almost constantly, and he spent all -his time in trying to console her with loving words and foolish hopes, -so that neither of them said or did anything particularly reasonable -or worthy of the telling here. And then Mary went back to the room -that had been assigned her in the tavern, and cried so all night, that -in the morning her eyes were red and swollen almost sufficiently to -justify in some measure the gratified assurance of Aunt Thatcher, that -she "looked like a fright." - -As for Lem Pawlett, it must be admitted that he acted in what seemed -to his friends a most reprehensible and unaccountable manner. -Following even too strictly the injunctions of Mr. Pelatiah Holden -about saying nothing to anybody, he would not even give them the -satisfaction of knowing positively that he had found his man, and -that the much needed evidence would be forthcoming in due time. He did -go so far, under Ruth's most severe pressure, as to assure her that it -would "be all right," but beyond that the little maiden found that for -once her power was set at naught. He felt resting upon him a -responsibility that temporarily out-weighted his love, and the gravity -of his stubborn silence awed the girl, and made her look upon him with -a new respect. But how he suffered! Bearing alone and in silence his -weighty secret, made him feel that virtually Dorn's salvation depended -upon him, and should anything happen by which that evidence would not -be forthcoming, and Dorn be hanged in consequence of its failure, he -would be neither more nor less than the executioner of his friend. The -next most unhappy man in the town that night, after the prisoner -himself, was Lem Pawlett. When, from sheer exhaustion, he fell asleep, -nearly at daylight, he had a horrid dream that he was tied hand and -foot, and powerless to speak, while his witness was fleeing swiftly -away from him on horseback, and that Dorn was standing before him, -under the gallows-tree, with a noose about his neck and a horrible -look of haunting reproach in his eyes. From that dream he awoke with a -howl of fright, and, fearing to go to sleep again, sprang up, dressed -himself and hurried out into the deserted main street of the still -slumbering town. - -He took his way toward the wharf. "Sometimes," he said to himself, -"the packet from New York gets in early; hardly so early as this, but -then she might have had an extraordinary good breeze last night." His -road led him by the jail. He shuddered as he passed the grim, gray -building, for never before had it seemed to him so big, so strong, so -terrible. Not one living thing did he meet in his lonely walk, and -when he reached the wharf the most profound silence surrounded him. -The tide was rising, but without the sound of its accustomed swash on -the piles. Its influx was indicated only by a slight ripple around the -obstacles it met. As far out as he could see the surface of the bay -was as smooth as a mirror. Going down some slimy green steps to a -boat-landing, he dipped one hand into the water, and held it above his -head. There was not even a breath of air moving. With sullen -resignation he seated himself upon a pile of lumber and waited. - -The dawn appeared, then suddenly the sun rose up behind the town, -casting upon the glassy surface of the water before him long shadows -of the tall warehouses, and of the people who now began to busy -themselves in the vicinity. Not the smallest ripple broke the outlines -of those shadows. He looked anxiously up at the sky. Ah! with what joy -he would have seen, in the direction of New York, a myriad of those -ragged fleecy clouds which sailors call "mare's tails," and believe to -be sure harbingers of wind. But there was not one to give him hope. -The sky looked like a monster dome of unflecked, burnished brass. It -was high tide, and a dead calm. - -With a groan he turned away and retraced his steps to the tavern. An -unwonted excitement began to be perceptible in the streets, the -continuation of that of the preceding day. Already people were -flocking in from the country, determined to be nearest the court-room -doors when they were thrown open. The tavern bar-room was crowded, -even before the sleepy bar-keeper had his eyes well rubbed open, and a -sort of general picnic scene was presented by the people breakfasting -on cold lunches in the shade of the elms. - - -XXII. - -IN THE NAME OF JUSTICE. - -When the court was opened that morning, at the usual hour, and the -expectant multitude rushed, scrambled, and tumbled in, to fight first -for front places and then for any place at all; the lawyers--who had -entered by the judge's private stairway--were already seated inside -the railing, chatting and laughing with cheerful indifference; the -prisoner, looking worn and haggard, was seated in his place, and the -two drowsy jurymen were already commencing to yawn. - -The defence began the presentation of its evidence immediately. Mary -Wallace was recalled to the stand to testify that when her lover was -leaving her on the evening of the night of the murder he told her that -he was going back to New Haven in Mr. Hollis's sloop. But the -prosecuting attorney objected, and the court ruled that the prisoner's -statements at that time were not admissible. Mr. Hollis, of New Haven, -bore witness that Dorn had come over from New Haven with him that -evening, had said that he might not return that night, and did not -return to the beach at the appointed hour to accompany him back. -Altogether, Mr. Hollis's evidence was rather injurious than otherwise, -and the prosecuting attorney looked pleased as he made a note of it. -Lem Pawlett was called to testify that the tracks left by the murderer -in the soft earth of Mr. Van Deust's garden were those of a man -wearing high-heeled, fashionable boots or shoes, and having much -smaller feet than Dorn Hackett; but as he had taken no measurements of -them, and only judged from memory, and didn't know the size of Dorn's -feet, and was, as he readily admitted, a friend of the prisoner, the -prosecuting attorney in cross-examination made it to be inferred from -his manner, that there was no doubt in his mind that the witness was -deliberately perjuring himself in the hope of helping the case of the -accused. And at least five of the jury responsively looked as if that -was the way they felt about it. - -Then witnesses were put forward as sea-faring experts to prove that on -the night of the murder there was almost a dead calm on the water, -such as would have made it impossible for a sail-boat to go from -Napeague Inlet to New Haven in the time that it was claimed by the -prosecution Dorn had gone. But when the prosecuting-attorney got to -bullying and confusing them in cross-examination, he made them say -that they could not really swear whether the calm was that night, or -the night before, or the night after, or two or three nights distant -either way; and one of them even admitted that perhaps it might have -blown a gale on that particular night, for all he was now prepared to -make oath to about it. Simple-minded people, who do not know how much -more lawyers bark than bite, when going through the ordeal of -cross-examination are apt to feel much as the toad proverbially does -when he finds himself under the harrow. - -Things were going swimmingly for the prosecution. The defence was forced -to fall back upon its last and always weakest intrenchment--proof of -previous good character and reputation. A few persons were found to -swear that they had known Dorn Hackett from his boyhood, and had -always considered him honest, industrious, truthful and kind-hearted, -and they were confident that such was his general reputation. Uncle -Thatcher was one of those witnesses, at his own request, and the -prosecuting attorney, who had, in some mysterious way, learned much -more than he should have been permitted to know about the witnesses -for the defence, asked him sneeringly: - -"Did not this excellent young man, about three years ago, perpetrate -an unprovoked and brutal assault on your son?" - -"No, sir," replied, the old man sternly. "He thrashed him, as he -deserved, for a contemptible action." - -But all those witnesses to good character had to admit that they had -known nothing of Dorn for three years past, during which time he had -been away from the village--whaling, it was said, but for all they -knew to the contrary he might have been living the most vicious and -ill-regulated life in some big city. Then a stronger witness in that -direction took the stand, Mr. Merriwether, of New Haven, owner of the -schooner of which Dorn was master, and he could, and did, swear -positively that he knew Dorn had been on a three years' whaling -voyage, had since been steadily in his employ, and was in all respects -moral, sober, and an entirely trustworthy young man of irreproachable -character. The prosecuting attorney seeing that this witness was one -who could not be easily bluffed or confused, contented himself with -asking: - -"You are his employer, are you not?" - -"Yes, sir." - -"And interested in getting him back to work for you, as you deem him a -good sailor?" - -"Yes, sir. But--" - -"Never mind. That will do, sir. I am through with this witness." And -the prosecutor sat down, looking with a scornful smile toward the -jury, as if he would have said to them confidentially: "You see this -man cares nothing whether the prisoner is guilty, or not, of all the -crimes forbidden by the Decalogue, if he only serves him well." - -In those days, a person accused was not permitted to go upon the stand -in his own behalf and give his testimony, under the sanctity of an -oath, as is now allowed him by the law. Then, he might be granted the -privilege of making his statement, but it would be merely a statement, -and the prosecution was very careful always, when a prisoner thus -spoke for himself, to impress upon the jury that his unsworn -affirmation of innocence was of no value whatever, when weighed in the -balance against other men's affidavits. Stress would be laid upon the -time and knowledge the accused had had to enable his preparation of -his own version of the affair, and undue prominence and importance -given to the fact that he could not be cross-examined. In this way an -artful prosecutor could generally neutralize all good effect the -accused might otherwise produce, if not, indeed, make the poor -wretch's asseverations of innocence absolutely harmful to him, by -stirring up the suspicion, antagonism, and secret consciousness of -infallibility in the minds of the jury, who resent attempts to deceive -them. - -Dorn was duly warned of this, yet he persisted in demanding to be -allowed to tell his own story, and the court granted him permission to -do so. He told it simply, clearly, and truthfully, as he had told it -before to Lem, to Mary, to his lawyer, and to the magistrate who -committed him, but he made no new converts to his innocence -now--unless it might have been the clear-sighted and experienced old -judge on the bench, who believed that he heard the ring of truth in -the young man's voice, and saw honesty in his frank, manly face. - -But at the conclusion of the statement, as Dorn left the stand and -returned to his seat by his counsel, the prosecuting attorney silently -held aloft before the jury the marked and identified handkerchief, -and that action was more conclusive in its effect upon their minds -than all that the prisoner had said. Looking upon their faces, the -lawyer for the defence murmured to himself, "We are lost!" - -As the day wore on Lem Pawlett was in agony, for his witness did not -appear. It made him dizzy and sick to see one witness after another -leaving the stand in such rapid succession, for he did not know how -soon the supply of them would run out, and the weak defence be -compelled to close before the one upon whom all depended should make -his appearance. "Why had he not come? The boat was due many hours ago, -and had not yet arrived! Becalmed, doubtless, on this one day of all -the days in the year. Perhaps he might not be aboard. He might be -sick. What if he should be a cunning villain, the real criminal, for -all his smooth exterior, who had purposely given that handkerchief to -Dorn to cast the guilt apparently on him? He smiled when it was -mentioned. And now he might be flying far away." These thoughts almost -maddened Lem. Bitterly he reproached himself that he had not staid in -New York and kept his witness under his eye until the last moment, and -brought him along by force, if necessary. Again and again he was -tempted to make his way to Mr. Dunn, and urge him to fight the day -through by all means; but each time he remembered what Mr. Holden had -said the prisoner's counsel must be, and refrained. Parched with -thirst, and blazing with fever, yet with a cold perspiration breaking -out all over him, poor Lem could hardly understand half that was going -on. But when Dorn's lawyer arose and said, "May it please the court, -the defence rests," the words came to his ears like a clap of thunder. -It seemed to him that that was the last moment of grace, and he -staggered to his feet, trying to say something; to cry a halt; to -appeal to the judge for time; to do, he did not know what. But his -tongue clave to the roof of his mouth, and a deputy sheriff, seeing -him standing there, waving his arms and looking as if he was about to -speak, shouted at him with such an awful voice, "Silence in the -court," that he sank down, stunned and speechless in his place, as -helpless as he had been in that awful dream of the night before. - -The prosecuting attorney began summing up to the jury. If he was -forcible in the opening, he was terrible now. Of course he assumed -that a clear case had been made out, as prosecutors always do; that -"there was no moral doubt of the guilt of the accused, any more than -if the jury had actually beheld him battering in the skull of his aged -victim, wiping the dripping blood from his hands upon the raiment of -the corpse, and clutching the gold, for lust of which he had done this -hideous deed." [Five of the jury looked as if they quite agreed with -him; three others glanced timidly and furtively at the faces of the -five, as if to read there what they too should think about it; the -sleepy men were very wide awake now, having had a good nap while the -evidence as to character was being introduced; and the deaf man had -both hands up to his ears to enable him to hear better, for if there -is anything that country people do love, it is a good strong speech.] - -In the midst of one of his most vigorous declamatory efforts the eye -of the prosecutor caught sight of the judge, who was sitting with -upraised gavel and a look as if he was only waiting for the end of a -sentence to arrest his progress. The speaker stopped, and the judge, -laying down his gavel, held up a note and said: - -"I am in receipt of a communication which is, if written in good -faith--that is, by the person whose name is signed to it--of so very -important a character, and has such a decided bearing upon the -interests of justice in this case, that I feel it would be in the -highest degree unwise to ignore it. I will therefore ask the -prosecuting attorney to have the kindness to at least postpone for a -short time the continuation of his address to the jury. The court will -now take a recess for half an hour." - -The densely packed and excited audience hardly waited the conclusion -of the sheriff's formal repetition of the formal order of the court, -to break out into a loud murmur of exclamations, conjecture, and -discussion as to what the important communication might be. The judge, -upon rising from his seat, made a sign to the prosecuting attorney and -the counsel for the defence to accompany him to his room, and the trio -went out by the private door, which they closed behind them. - -"What is it, Lem? What do you suppose they are going to do now?" Ruth -asked anxiously of the young man, who sat in a semi-inanimate -condition at her side, and who actually had not heard a word of what -the judge had said. He started from his dream, into which reality had -again plunged him, and replied miserably: - -"I don't know. Hang him, I suppose." - -"Don't talk nonsense, Lem. What's the matter with you? Wake up. Didn't -you hear what the judge said about his receiving an important -communication that had a decided bearing, and all that?" - -"Did he?" - -"Yes, 'a decided bearing upon the interests of justice in this case.' -Those were his very words; and he held up a letter." - -"Then it's all right now, Ruth! All right at last! He has come! He has -come!" - -"Who has come?" - -"The man who will save Dorn Hackett." - - -XXIII. - -TURNING OF THE TIDE. - -It seems a little strange to some people that a prosecuting attorney -should so hungrily devote himself to the conviction of an accused -person, even when, as is sometimes beyond question, he feels in his -heart that the individual against whom he is exerting all the force of -his trained legal ingenuity, eloquence, and mental power is, in fact, -guiltless of the crime alleged against him. If his gains depended upon -his success in obtaining a conviction, many who are accustomed to look -upon pecuniary interest as a sufficient excuse for almost anything not -absolutely prohibited by law, would understand him better. But such is -not the case. His salary is the same, whether he succeeds in hanging a -guiltless unfortunate or not. Success, in many cases, may help him to -re-election: but that is not always a serious consideration. Why, -then, when he cannot convict by clear proof of guilt, does he call to -his aid the technicalities of law, the power of precedent, and all -that may enable him to even prevent the prisoner accomplishing that -herculean task--the proving of his innocence? Simply because of the -development in him--and the conscious possession of the widest license -in its exercise--of the hunting instinct that is inherent in all -carnivorous animals, man included. He hunts the accused down to -death, with not even the cannibal's excuse of wishing to eat him, but -that he may have the joy of triumph in the achievement, and that his -reputation as a hunter may be enhanced,--as some men used to kill -buffaloes on the plains, as long as there were any, simply for the -sake of the killing. In other circumstances and relations of life he -may be gentle and kind-hearted; but put him in the chase, and he knows -no pity. Perhaps there are times when, after a conviction, he secretly -says to himself: - -"Thank God it was the jury's work, not mine! I did not convict him!" - -But he deceives himself. The average juryman, even one who is without -prejudice and means to do rightly, is but a tool of the most cunning -and able of the two lawyers pitted against each other before him. Some -drops of the innocent blood the jury sheds must cling to the hands of -the prosecutor. - -When the court resumed its session, after the brief recess, another -person sat within the railing among the lawyers, a little elderly -gentleman, at sight of whom Lem Pawlett almost wept for joy, and the -prisoner's heart felt a thrill of hope. - -Dorn's counsel formally announced to the court that since the closing -of the defence new and most important evidence, completely -demonstrating the innocence of the prisoner at the bar, had been put -in his possession, and he asked that the court grant permission for -the reopening of the defence and the admission of this testimony. - -The prosecuting attorney argued long and earnestly against the -introduction of any further evidence at the present stage of the -proceedings. In view of the high character and standing in the -profession of the proposed witness, who had been made known to him in -the judge's private room, and with whose reputation he was well -acquainted, he did not dare to cast a shadow of suspicion upon the -proposed evidence as manufactured and unworthy of belief or -consideration. Evading that issue, he confined himself to opposing as -informal, irregular, and liable to be viewed as a dangerous and evil -precedent, the reopening of the case. Even if improperly convicted for -lack of this evidence, the prisoner, he argued, would still have his -relief in a new trial, which the Court of Appeals would be sure to -grant if the new testimony was indeed material. - -Mr. Dunn made a strong plea for the accused against the injustice of -condemning an innocent man to await in prison, under the shadow of a -sentence of death, and in an agony of suspense, the slow action of the -Court of Appeals, rather than disturb the mere formality of a trial. - -Finally, the judge ruled--as he had intended to before either of the -lawyers said a word--that the new evidence should be admitted. - -The little elderly gentleman, responding promptly to the crier's call -for "Pelatiah Holden," took the stand, was sworn, and testified: - -"My name is Pelatiah Holden; I reside in New York, and am a lawyer by -profession. I have been the legal adviser of the brothers Peter and -Jacob Van Deust in certain money matters; and, upon business connected -with their affairs, visited their house on the evening of the 19th of -July, coming from New York by boat to Sag Harbor and thence riding -over on horseback." - -"That was the night upon which Jacob Van Deust was murdered, was it -not?" the prisoner's counsel interposed. - -"To the best of my present information and belief the murder was -perpetrated on the night of the 19th, or morning of the 20th." - -"Yes, sir. Proceed, sir." - -"I remained with the Van Deust brothers, taking supper with them, -receiving their signatures to some papers, and holding a consultation -with them in regard to the investment of certain monies belonging to -them jointly, until, as nearly as I can now remember, about fifteen -minutes before nine o'clock in the evening. They pressed me to remain -all night, which I declined to do, as I had business of importance to -attend to in New York, for other clients, and was desirous of -returning as speedily as possible to the city. When I took my -departure Jacob Van Deust accompanied me to where my horse was hitched -in the lane, and we stood there talking a few minutes. There was no -wind stirring, and the mosquitoes annoyed me very much. In switching -them from the back of my neck with my handkerchief I dropped it -accidentally, and the horse chanced to step upon it, trampling it into -the dirt of the lane. Seeing that it had been rendered unfit for -present use, Mr. Jacob Van Deust was kind enough to offer me the loan -of a clean one which he had in his pocket, and I thankfully accepted -it. I mounted my horse, said good-by, and set out upon a new road that -Mr. Van Deust--the younger brother, I mean--had recommended to me as -shortening considerably the distance I had to travel. - -"I had ridden, as nearly as I can judge, about a mile, or perhaps only -seven-eighths of a mile, when, in passing through a cutting that -depressed the roadway to a depth of nine or ten feet below the surface -of the ground on either side, I found, lying upon the ground and -groaning, a young man." - -"Do you recognize that man among those here present?" - -"I do, sir. It was the prisoner at the bar. He informed me that having -been unacquainted with the existence of that new road, he had just -sustained a severe fall into it. His injuries seemed to corroborate -his statement, at least so far as the severity of his fall was -concerned. His scalp was badly cut in at least two places, and he was -bleeding profusely. - -"When I assisted him to rise he found that one of his ankles--the -left, I believe--was so seriously sprained that he could not bear to -rest his weight upon it, and could not walk a step without assistance. -I used the clean handkerchief which was in my possession, together -with one he had, to bind up his head and stanch the flow of blood, -after which I supported him to the beach, where he hoped, he said, to -find a small vessel to take him to New Haven, where he resided. But he -was only able to move very slowly, and when we arrived at the water's -edge no vessel was in sight. While we were debating what was best to -be done with him, under the circumstances, a small fishing-boat came -within a short distance of the shore, and the person directing its -movements responded to his call. He offered the person in the -boat--who appeared to be an old man, accompanied by a boy--the sum of -ten dollars to take him over to New Haven, which offer was accepted. I -assisted him to enter the boat, and, when it had sailed away returned -to where I had left my horse tied to tree, remounted him, and -prosecuted my journey homeward." - -During the giving of this evidence, a stillness prevailed in the -court-room as if the speaker had been alone, and when his voice ceased -there was such an enormous sigh from the crowded audience as if all -were at once exhaling the pent-up breath they had not dared to free -before for fear of losing a word of what he said. Five jurymen and the -prosecuting attorney looked equally disgusted. - -"At what hour that night did you last see the prisoner?" asked Mr. -Dunn. - -"At twenty-seven minutes past ten o'clock." - -"In a small boat, sailing from the shore?" - -"Yes, sir. Very slowly, however, as there was very little wind." - -"From your knowledge of his condition at that time, do you believe it -would have been possible for him to have returned that night to Mr. -Van Deust's, entered that house, perpetrated the murder with which he -is charged and made his escape?" - -"No, sir. He was very weak from loss of blood, and I know, from -personal examination, that his ankle was so severely sprained that it -would have been a physical impossibility for him to have done what you -said." - -"Ah! you say that you examined his ankle. Did you notice at the time -what kind of shoes he wore?" - -"I did. He had on the low, broad, soft shoes, with hardly any heels, -which sailors customarily wear." - -"That is enough, sir. Thank you. Take the witness," said Mr. Dunn, -with an air of triumph, to the prosecuting attorney. - -That official did not seem to care about taking the witness. He knew -that it was a master in the art of cross-examination who was thus -lightly turned over to him, and had no hope of entrapping him or -shaking his testimony. Still, he had to make some show. - -Indifferently he asked: "Of course you have no idea of who the old man -in the boat was?" - -"To the best of my information and belief, his name was Jabez Sanborn. -I asked him and that was what he told me." - -Jabez Sanborn! Why, everybody around Sag Harbor knew about him; a shy -old man, reputed a miser, who lived with a lad, his grandson, in a hut -in the woods and was known to be addicted to wandering all along the -coast at night, in a little fishing-smack, on errands best known to -himself. Yes, the most likely man in the world to be met under just -such circumstances was old Jabez Sanborn. And the least likely man to -hear that a murder trial was going on in which he might be an -important witness--or perhaps to care if he had heard it--was also old -Jabez Sanborn. The prosecuting attorney felt that he had not drawn a -trump that time at least. While he cast about mentally for something -else that he might ask the witness, with at least the minimum of harm -to his side of the case, a startling diversion occurred to interrupt -the proceedings. - -Old Peter Van Deust, who had been sitting near the prosecuting -attorney and directly in front of the witness, suddenly sprang to his -feet, walked up to Mr. Holden, clutched with trembling fingers the -seal that dangled from his watchguard and, after examining it a -moment, cried shrilly: - -"It's all a lie! All a cunningly made up story! He is an accomplice of -the assassin! This was Jacob's seal. I'll swear to it!" - -Almost everybody had jumped up in the excitement of this interruption, -even the sedate judge was standing, leaning over his desk to get a -better view of what was going on before him but below his range of -vision, and there was a deafening chorus of exclamations from all -sides; but above all arose the sharp voice of Peter Van Deust, crying: - -"Arrest him! arrest him! I demand the arrest of this man as an -accomplice!" - -The only tranquil person in the assemblage was Mr. Pelatiah Holden. He -was surprised at his client's outbreak, but only for a moment. Then, -blandly saying to the almost mad old man who stood before him, shaking -a long, lean finger in his face, "Mr. Peter Van Deust, you seem to be -excited." - -He very calmly drew his watch from his fob-pocket and with the seal -attached to it, passed it up to the judge. The seal was a heavy, -square onyx, with a foul anchor engraved on one side. - -"I'd swear to it among a thousand," shrieked old Peter. "It belonged -to my father when he was in the navy. He left it to brother Jacob. It -was stolen by the thief who murdered him." - -The judge rapped his gavel until order was restored in the court-room, -and old Peter had been fairly dragged down into a seat by the -prosecuting attorney, who was nearest him--after which, addressing the -witness, he asked: - -"How did this seal come into your possession, Mr. Holden?" - -"Very simply, your Honor. But before I relate how, permit me to -request your Honor to issue strict injunctions to the officers at the -door to permit no exit from this court-room or communication by those -within to persons on the outside." - -The judge was evidently surprised, but his respect for the well-known -and honored Mr. Holden was sufficient to induce him to comply with the -request without asking its reasons. When the necessary instructions -had been issued to the court officers, Mr. Holden resumed: - -"About three weeks ago, while I was taking lunch one afternoon at -Windust's--a very popular and well conducted restaurant on Park Row, -New York--a young man came to the box in which I was seated and -offered this seal for sale. I am, as a rule, averse to the purchase of -personal property from unknown persons and in an irregular way, but -this young man told a melancholy story of his present need for money -for the sake of a widowed mother and sister, said that the seal had -belonged to his father who was a naval officer and asked for the -article a price that was at least its full value. That influenced me -to purchase it. I reflected that if it had been stolen it would have -been, in all probability, offered at a cheap price to effect ready -disposal of it, whereas if he really needed money, as he said, for his -mother and sister and the thing honestly belonged to him, he would -naturally try to get as much as he could. So I gave him seventeen -dollars for it and have since worn it." - -"What," asked the judge, "was your reason for requesting the careful -tyling of the doors before making that statement, Mr. Holden?" - -"Because I recognized to-day, in the court-yard without, as I was -entering this building, the young man from whom I purchased this -seal." - -"You believe so!" - -"I am certain of it. If your Honor will permit an officer to accompany -me, I believe that I will be able to bring him before you in a few -moments. When I saw him he was seated at the root of an elm tree near -the door, and alone." - -An officer was directed to accompany Mr. Holden and they went out -together by the private staircase. The curious throng in the -court-room, unwilling to lose a single incident of the eventful drama -unfolding itself before them, struggled hard to get out and follow the -officer and his guide, but were not allowed to do so, and returned to -their seats with a sense of injury. Everybody was intensely excited. -The prosecuting attorney leaning over the judge's bench held a long -and earnest conversation with him. The prisoner and his counsel -whispered together. The jury jabbered to each other so that even the -idiotic-looking one among them seemed to awake to an interest in the -proceedings. - -Suddenly the little door behind the judge was flung open, and Mr. -Holden entered, followed by the officer and a third person--a young -man, attired in a flashy sort of vulgar fashion, and wearing a dyed -mustache and goatee. Many audible exclamations of astonishment were -uttered among the audience, numbers of whom recognized this new actor -thus brought upon the scene. - -"That, your honor," said Mr. Holden, "is the young man who sold to me -the seal which you now have before you." - - -XXIV. - -THE HAND OF PROVIDENCE. - -"What is your name?" demanded the judge of the young man thus brought -before him. - -The fellow hesitated an instant, and a lie trembled on his lips; but -then looking around and seeing many who could identify him, he knew -that falsehood would be useless, and sullenly replied: - -"Silas Thatcher." - -"Where do you live?" - -"On Hester Street, near the Bowery, in New York." - -"What is your business?" - -"Haint got none." - -"What have you to say in reply to the statement which you have just -heard made by this gentleman, to the effect that you sold this seal to -him?" - -"Nothin'," answered Silas after a little hesitation. - -"Nothing? But do you not understand, young man, that this may be a -very serious matter? I do not ask you that you may criminate yourself -in any way, but with the hope that if you have any reasonable -explanation to offer you will not withhold it. How did this seal come -into your possession?" - -Silas paled, was visibly perturbed, and hesitated longer than before; -then responded doggedly: - -"I haint got nothin' to say. I want a lawyer, I do." The judge was -silent for a moment, then replied drily. - -"Of course you are entitled to counsel. You will stand committed for -further examination. Mr. Sheriff, adjourn court until the usual hour -to-morrow morning." - -It was a loving and a hopeful interview that Dorn and Mary had at his -cell door that evening, and Mr. Holden had the pleasure of being -present during at least a part of it, when he received the heartfelt -thanks of both for his opportune aid in their darkest hour. Peter Van -Deust, whose wits were manifestly failing, had not seemed to -comprehend what was done in the court-room after he had sustained the -violent mental shock of recognizing his murdered brother's seal, and -had clamored, at the adjournment of the court, for the arrest of the -New York lawyer. But the judge smilingly replied, that he would -himself be responsible for the attendance of Mr. Holden, whenever it -might be required, and had gone away down the main street to the -tavern, arm in arm with that gentleman; a sight that had fairly -stunned poor old Peter. After dinner Mr. Holden paid his visit to -Dorn's cell, and the judge said he, too, would like to go along "but -for the looks of it," as he "considered Dorn now virtually a free man, -and had all along suspected that he was an innocent one." - -The prosecuting attorney was alone in his office that evening, looking -over a _resumé_ of another case, that of a mere horse-thief, which -would succeed Dorn Hackett's in order of trial--for he had already -given up all hope of hanging Dorn--when the sheriff entered, with an -air of mingled eagerness and caution, to inform him, in a sort of -melodramatic whisper: - -"Silas Thatcher's father has asked permission to see his son in his -cell, and I have had him delayed until I could tell you. Do you wish -to overhear their interview?" - -"I--rather think--I'd like to," answered the prosecutor, meditatively. -"I shall have him in hand before long, no doubt, and might as well -know beforehand what he has to say for himself." - -The men passed together through the sheriff's office, and by a private -entrance therefrom into the rear part of the jail, first taking off -their boots that their steps might not be heard on the stone floor. - -When they entered the corridor, along one side of which the cells were -located, they moved with caution, and noiselessly entered a dark and -unoccupied cell adjoining that in which Silas was confined. After a -little quiet fumbling along the wall, the sheriff found the end of a -string, which he pulled, thus conveying to his assistant in the front -office of the jail, where Uncle Thatcher was waiting, a private signal -that all was ready. In a few minutes more the grim old man was shown -in by the jailor, and permitted to enter his son's cell, the door of -which was locked upon him. Every sound made there was clearly audible -where the prosecutor and sheriff were. - -Silas, to whom the interior of a prison was not altogether a novelty, -had laid down with a sort of philosophical content upon his little cot -bed, but sat up, somewhat surprised, when his father appeared. The -jailor put upon the stone floor the tin candlestick holding a tallow -candle which he had carried in, and went away. - -For some moments neither father nor son spoke a word. The old man was -the first to break the oppressive silence. - -"So," said he, "this is where I find you at last." - -"Yes, it is, and what of it?" retorted Silas sullenly. - -"My God! How I have dreaded this shame!--this horror! How the fear of -it has haunted me, day and night, for years!" - -"If you've come here for to preach to me, why, you might as well drop -it; that's all. I ain't no chicken. I'm a man, I am, and game for all -there is in the pot. I ain't afraid. I don't want no snivellins around -me!" - -"Silas, I haven't come here either to preach or snivel. I have come to -learn, if I can, whether the agony and blighting shame of seeing a son -hanged is likely to be mine or not." - -The young reprobate winced visibly at his father's plain speech, and -it was with a violent effort, belied by his pallid lips and quavering -voice, that he assumed sufficient bravado to reply: - -"What's the use of making a fuss about a feller's getting into a -little scrape? I'll get out of it all right. All I want is a good -lawyer. It might happen to any feller to get into a hole. Fellers get -into 'em all the time and get out of 'em again. This morning everybody -thought Dorn Hackett was in the worst kind of a hole, but to-night the -jailor tells me everybody says he's bound to get out of it." - -"Dorn Hackett was innocent. Are you?" - -Silas hesitated a moment before he replied: - -"Course I am! Every fellow's innocent until he's proved guilty." - -"Where did you get that seal?" - -"A--a--feller gave it to me." - -"Who was he?" - -"I dunno--never saw him before." - -"Silas, you are lying to me." - -"Well, what business have you got to come here pestering me with -questions, as if you was trying to catch me?" - -It was hard work for the old man, who was naturally of rather a -violent temper, to keep his hands off his rebellious son; -nevertheless, he restrained himself. - -"Silas," he exclaimed after a brief pause, "there is blood upon your -hands." - -"Where? No, there isn't! They're clean!" ejaculated the young man in a -tone of fright, starting to his feet and nervously examining his -hands. - -"Fool!" said the old man, with contempt, "did you think I meant red -drops that human eyes could see? No. But in the sight of God they are -dripping with the stains of a foul murder. I read your guilt in your -skulking eyes, your impudent assumption of brazen effrontery, your -falsehoods. Ah, you will not get out of this hole as easily as you -pretend to think. There is but one road open from here before you." - -"What is that, father?" asked Silas, tremblingly, for he had already -begun to lose the fictitious nerve that had hitherto sustained him. - -"The gallows!" responded the grim old man, sternly. - -"Oh, for the Lord's sake, don't talk like that!" pleaded the young -wretch, with a piteous howl. "It's all your fault, anyway. You -wouldn't let me have any more money, and I was hard up. You told me -the Van Deusts had a mint of money. I didn't mean to harm anybody, but -he jumped out of bed and clinched me; the jimmy was in my hand, and I -was afraid of being caught, and I--Oh! my God! what have I said? -You've got me all unnerved, with your cursed croaking. I didn't know -what I was saying. It wasn't true. I haven't been in a mile of Van -Deusts' for more'n three years. I don't know who killed Jake Van Deust -any more'n you do. Dorn Hackett did it. Why don't they hang him, curse -him! and be done with it!" - -He was crying, trembling. The unhappy father bowed his face in his -hands and was silent a long time, while Silas went rambling on: - -"I can prove I was in New York that night. There's lots of the fellers -will swear me out of it. What if I did have the seal? Didn't Dorn have -the handkerchief? I know where I got it. I buy'ed it one night from a -stranger that got broke in a faro bank. I can get fellers to swear -they see me buy it. All I want is a lawyer. You've got to get me -one--a good one. You will, won't you? I'm broke or I wouldn't ask you. -I've had awful bad luck lately. But I'll pay you back when I get out. -And you wouldn't see your son h--h--hanged, would you?" - -Uncle Thatcher raised his head and, looking fixedly at his son, asked -slowly: - -"Why did you come here to-day?" - -"I don't know," answered Silas, almost with desperation. "Because I am -a damned fool, I suppose. I met Lem Pawlett in the city, and he told -me about the trial, and--somehow--I had to come. I couldn't keep -away." - -"And you still think that a lawyer could get you out?" - -"Oh, yes. A good, sharp lawyer, from New York. I know of one that's up -to all the dodges. He gets lots of the fellers off. He'd clear me, I'm -sure of it." - -"And you do not see God's hand driving you here and giving you up to -man's justice? You think to contend against His will? To employ a -lawyer who shall shield you from the fate He has decreed? Foolish and -unhappy boy! you have sown and the day of harvest is nigh; the -harvest for both of us: for you the full sheaf of ripe dishonor and -death; for me the gleaning of bitter shame and grief. And to the Lord -of this harvest we may neither of us say 'nay.'" - -As he spoke he arose from the cot, where he had taken a seat early in -the interview, stood before his son, and continued: - -"It is not probable that I shall ever see you again. In due course of -time you will be tried, convicted, and hanged, and I shall hear of it -all: that will be enough for me. As far as other people will allow me -to, I shall endeavor to forget that I ever had a son. You have simply -to continue, as for years past, so far as affection or respect for his -counsels were concerned, in forgetting that you have a father. Send me -no gallows-tree messages of penitence and love. Carry your penitence, -if you have any, to your God; and may He, in his infinite knowledge -and justice, grant you such mercy and pardon as you deserve." - -With this farewell, the wretched father took his departure, preserving -his sternness of demeanor as long as he was in his son's sight; but in -the jail office without, he gave way to his natural grief, which he -could repress no longer, and much time elapsed ere he recovered -himself sufficiently to go home. Silas, left alone in his cell, threw -himself upon his bed, on his face, alternately weeping, cursing, and -praying, in a delirium of remorse and fear, and no sound of stealthy -footsteps leaving the adjoining dungeon reached his ears. - - -XXV. - -THE LESSON OF PETER VAN DEUST'S LIFE. - -Immediately upon the opening of the court, the morning after Silas -Thatcher's arrest, the prosecuting attorney arose and made a neat -little speech, in which he admitted his conviction that an error had -been made in the accusation of Dorn Hackett, expressed his -gratification at the discovery of the new and unimpeachable evidence -of the innocence of the accused afforded by his learned brother from -New York, and, in conclusion, desired to move the entry of a _nolle -prosequi_ in the case of the People _vs._ Dorman Hackett. In short, -never did hunter retire with better grace from a hopeless chase. The -motion was promptly granted by the court, and Dorn Hackett was a free -man once again. - -Lem Pawlett shouted and hurrahed at the top of his voice, defying two -sedate officers of the court who sought to hush him; and many others -joined in his cheers--almost all, indeed, for so fickle are the -multitude, so worshipful of success, and so easily influenced by -impulse, that their purposes and the currents of their feelings vary -like the shifting winds. How many there were who now said that they -"had always looked upon Dorn Hackett as a noble fellow, one who could -not be guilty of a crime!" How many who declared they had "thought his -arrest a great mistake from the first!" And they found it the easier -to forgive Dorn for escaping since they had another victim in -prospect, in his stead. Not even Deacon Harkins was altogether -unhappy, for he still had a horrid example at whom to aim his homilies -and texts. All that was necessary was to substitute the name of Silas -for that of Dorn, and his stream of malignant cant flowed steadily on. - -Dorn was conducted into the judge's private room, where he found Mary -awaiting him with open arms, glad smiles, and tears of joy in her -bright eyes. How happy and how beautiful she looked. He pressed her to -his breast, again and again, with rapture: but the lovers' hearts -were too full for speech. The greatest joys, like the deepest griefs, -are voiceless; mere words humble, even profane them. Could those two -loving ones have phrased the gratitude, to the Giver of all Good, that -thrilled their souls? Ah, no! They could only kiss and be happy. - -In the court-room without it was very evident that, for a time at -least, there need not be any hope of doing business. Even after Lem -had been silenced,--thanks not to the two sedate officers but to -little Ruth, who had by this time regained all her authority--there -was still kept up such a buzz of conversation, interchange of -ejaculations and comments, breaking out afresh in one place as soon as -quelled in another, lulling for an instant and then recommencing with -even greater vigor, that the judge and prosecuting attorney pantomimed -to each other that there might just as well be an adjournment until -the afternoon. And after the prosecutor had laid his little sacrifice -upon the altar of form, in a statement, audible only to those at his -elbows, that he would not be ready until afternoon to go on with the -next case upon the docket, the judge ordered an adjournment and -retired to his room. - -"Well, young folks," he said cheerily, finding the lovers in each -other's arms, of course, "you seem to be enjoying yourselves!" - -Mary blushed and hung her head, but Dorn looked up manfully and -replied, with a glad ring in his voice: - -"Ah, yes, sir! I cannot tell you how happy we feel! But you, sir, may -be able to know what is in the heart of a man who has been very close -to a shameful death, for a crime of which he was innocent, and who is -suddenly restored to life, and hope, and the love of the woman who is -dearer to him than all the world beside." - -"Yes, my boy," responded the good-hearted judge warmly, shaking his -hand. "Yes, I do appreciate your feelings; and while congratulating -you on the fortunate end of your trial, join you most heartily in -thanking God that another has not been added to the already too long -list of melancholy proofs of the fallibility of human wisdom in the -administration of justice. But it was a providential thing for you -that Mr. Holden arrived when he did, just in the nick of time." - -"Indeed it was, sir. I had ceased to hope for his coming. I would like -to see him before he goes away, to offer him my thanks." - -"So you shall. Right away, if you wish." And stepping to the door the -judge called in the little elderly gentleman, who came looking as -radiant with pleasure, almost, as if it had been himself who had just -escaped the gallows. - -After shaking hands with Dorn, congratulating him, and receiving his -thanks, Mr. Holden addressed himself to Mary and, with old-time -courtesy and gallantry, made her a pretty little speech of compliment. - -"You young folks intend to get married, don't you?" suddenly and -bluntly asked the judge. - -Mary flushed red as a peony, but smiled, and Dorn, too, felt the color -rising in his cheeks as he replied, half laughingly: - -"Yes, sir, if Mary doesn't change her mind." - -"How is that, Mary?" demanded the judge. "Have you any notion of -changing your mind?" - -"Oh, no, sir," answered the girl timidly, and with an affectionate -glance at Dorn. - -"I should think not, from the way I found you when I came in," added -the judge mischievously. "Well, you know what Franklin says, 'never -put off until to-morrow what can be done to-day.' Why not get the -business over right away, and complete the happiness of your day. -Stand right out there before me and I'll soon--" - -"Oh, no, sir," exclaimed Mary, in a half-frightened way, "Please, no, -sir. I promised Ruth that we would wait for her and Lem, and we are -all to stand up together." - -"Ah, indeed! Well where are your friends Ruth and her lover? They -ought to be here." - -"I think they are in the court-room outside," volunteered Mr. Holden. -"At least they were there a few moments ago, when I came in here. I -have the pleasure of knowing Mr. Pawlett, and can guess the relations -between him and a very pretty little girl sitting beside him." - -"You know Lem?" exclaimed Dorn. - -"Yes, he hunted me up in New York, and it was at his instance that I -came here to give my testimony." - -"And he didn't tell me a word about it when he came back; did not even -come to see me--left me to imagine that he had not succeeded in -finding you!" - -"Ah, he followed my instructions somewhat too literally. I advised him -not to tell anybody, but I did not exactly mean that he should not -mention it to you. Still, the fault, if any exists, is mine. And it's -all right now." - -"All right? Oh, sir, how can I ever sufficiently thank you and him for -what you have done?" - -"You need not mind thanking me any more; and as for him, I guess he -will consider the obligation squared if you facilitate his matrimonial -projects by calling in him and his sweetheart, and carrying out the -judge's suggestion for immediate action." - -"Yes, by all means," urged the judge, "call them in, and let us have a -wholesale hymenial tournament at once." - -Mr. Holden looked out into the court-room, which was by this time -almost emptied. Lem and Ruth were still there, however, and sturdy Mr. -Merriwether, of New Haven, who was talking to Mr. Dunn; and three or -four loiterers near the door; and a man who sat at the prosecutor's -table, and bent over it, his head resting upon his arms. - -"Come in here, Mr. Pawlett, and bring the young lady with you!" called -Mr. Holden. "And step this way, if you please, Mr. Dunn, and your -friend." - -While the persons thus indicated came forward, the loiterers at the -door, seeing no chance of their being included in the invitation, went -away. When Dorn had passed through another torrent of congratulations, -the judge genially resumed the direction of affairs. - -"Come!" said he. "When justice gets hold of a man, she cannot let him -go scot free, even if he is innocent. Something must be done to him. -If we can't hang him, we must at least marry him. And as you young -folks, Lemuel Pawlett and Ruth--I haven't yet been told the rest of -your name, Miss." - -"Ruth Lenox, sir." - -"Ruth Lenox, eh? A very pretty name--almost worthy of so pretty an -owner. Very well; as you, Lem Pawlett--and you, Ruth Lenox, have -confessedly aided and comforted Dorn Hackett in evading the fate that -a very blind justice had marked out for him, it is deemed right and -proper that you should suffer with him." - -Lem and Ruth, knowing nothing of what had transpired before they -entered the room, and not half understanding the judge's rapid and -somewhat figurative language, looked very much puzzled and even a -little alarmed. - -Mary led her friend to one side, and the two girls held a little -whispered consultation together, from which they returned blushing, -but apparently resigned, for each placed herself beside her lover. -Then the two couples ranged themselves in order before the judge, who, -dropping his jocose manner, and with the gravity befitting so solemn a -ceremonial as that of uniting two human lives "until death does them -part," proceeded to make the lovers husbands and wives. - -Then the judge resumed his jovial mood, and claimed as his fees the -first kiss from each of the brides, and Mr. Holden and Mr. Merriwether -followed suit, and Mr. Dunn was very certain not to let himself be -forgotten when any such fun as that was going on. There was a great -deal of hand-shaking, and expression of kind thoughts and good wishes -all around. And amid all this happiness nobody noticed for some little -time that the man, whom Mr. Holden had seen bowed over the -prosecutor's table, had arisen, come forward, and was standing in the -door. A weak, trembling old man he was, with thin, deeply furrowed -face, and a sad, weary look in his eyes. It was Peter Van Deust. - -"I suppose," said he, speaking in a slow, meditative way, and with a -weak, quavering voice, "that I have no right to come here as a -kill-joy among you. Love and youth were done with me long ago. The -first I drove from me, and the second left me. I can no more call back -one than the other, now. If Jacob were alive to-day, he'd be more at -home among you than I am." - -He paused a moment, sighed deeply, passed a tremulous hand over his -eyes, that were full of tears, and continued: - -"But I feel as if I ought to speak to you, to two of you at least, -and--beg your forgiveness. I erred, and I'm sorry. I ain't what I used -to be; my head's failing me, a little, sometimes, I guess. But they've -got the right man now, haven't they? They've got him at last! And -they'll hang him, won't they?" - -His voice was becoming momentarily more shrill, and his manner more -excited. Mr. Holden took his hand with a gentle, sympathetic pressure -that seemed to recall him to himself, and in a lower tone, half-choked -by a sob, the poor old man exclaimed: - -"Oh, you don't know how I miss Jacob! I didn't know how much he was to -me, how much we had grown together, until I lost him! He was so good, -so kind! Ah! If I had been more like him, people would feel for me now -more than they do. But it has taken me all my life to learn that love -is better than gold." - -Sadly and slowly he turned and moved away, through the deserted -court-room and the crowded street--lonely alike in both--to his -desolate home, from which, thereafter, he was seldom seen abroad. But -the lesson that it had taken him all his life to learn, he did not -forget; for, when they laid him down by Jacob's dust--ere again the -trailing arbutus put forth its fragrant blossoms beneath the dead -leaves of the forest--and read his will, they found that he had left -all he possessed to Mary Wallace, "for the sake of the kindly love my -dear brother Jacob bore for her in memory of her mother." - -What need can be to say the rest? how justice laid her heavy hand -upon profligate young Silas Thatcher, and his doom was that his -father had foretold; how Dorn entered into partnership with Mr. -Merriwether, who proved his staunch and life-long friend; how faithful -Lem Pawlett flourished, and how happy Ruth and Mary were. The interest -of our story is done. Even justice, good deeds, calm joys, and placid -lives are tame to tell. - -FOOTNOTE: - -[5] Copyright, 1888, BELFORD, CLARKE & CO. - - -THE END. - - - * * * * * - - -Transcriber's Notes: - -Obvious typographical errors have been repaired, but archaic spellings -and grammatical usages have been retained. - -Both "have'nt" and "haven't" were used in the text--standardized to -"haven't." - -Both "its" and "it's" were used for "it is" in the text--standardized -to "it's." - -P. 408-409, "who, like you, have no without a blush for what they -are"; the page break was after "no", with possible loss of content, -making this sentence difficult to interpret. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Belford's Magazine, Vol. II, No. 3, -February 1889, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BELFORD'S MAGAZINE, FEBRUARY 1889 *** - -***** This file should be named 41678-8.txt or 41678-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/1/6/7/41678/ - -Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, JoAnn Greenwood -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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